Merry Christmas to the other parts of my OT3: Torah and Aidi. My drawer and my dragon. I love you both so much my sweetums <3
Stiles sighed, leaning against the wall of the hospital lounge and letting his head rock backwards, hand tightening around the piece of paper in his hand. Scott had talked Stiles into volunteering at the hospital to give the kids a little something for Christmas, it didn’t take much convincing. It wasn’t as though Stiles had anything better to do the morning of Christmas Eve while his dad was finishing up work so he could spend Christmas Day with his son.
They had gotten up hilariously early and decorated the children’s wing and they were both decked out in holiday clothes - Stiles had antlers and a little nose that glowed and the kids loved it. The smaller ones would laugh and poke at his nose. Scott was an elf with ears that had Stiles calling him Spock all day.
Now it was noon, the kids were eating their lunch and Scott had gone to buy him, Stiles and Melissa something to eat. Just before they all split up for lunch, the kids had convinced Scott and Stiles to write letters to Santa with them. Letters telling Santa what they wanted most in the world for Christmas…
Stiles glanced down at his own letter, fingers curling around the paper and threatening to crumple it. It had been several months since Derek left Beacon Hills.
How do you deal with someone who added ‘dragon’ to the end of their url, used one of your previous icons, copy and pasted your summary on their page modifying it to fit them self, and draws art that looks reeeaally familiar?….. like maybe 'traced it and used your color pallet’- familiar….
I literally just typed “uh” in their inbox because i have no idea what is happening.
Derek brushes his eyebrows every morning. Pass it on.
“Stiles… what is this?” Derek asked in confusion, brows furrowed together after he opened the small box, wrapped in Christmas Spider-Man wrapping, with a little blue bow on top. It was his first Christmas present he was meant to open, because apparently it was a Stilinski family tradition to open one present on Christmas Eve. Inside the small box, was the tiniest black comb Derek had ever seen in his life.
When he looked up at Stiles, he knew immediately that this was really a gift for Stiles judging by the shit-eating grin he was wearing…
“It’s a comb.”
“I can see that.”
“For your bushy caveman brows,” Stiles’ grin spread wider, if that was possible, turning him into the most realistic Cheshire Cat Derek had ever seen in his life. Of course, this Cheshire Stiles couldn’t disappear like the real Cheshire Cat could, which meant he felt the contact of the floor against his back when Derek tackled him to the floor with a growl.
“Boys, boys, it’s Christmas. No breaking the gifts or knocking over the tree,” the Sheriff said absentmindedly, not bothering to lower the book he was reading from his position safe on the couch as his son and his boyfriend grappled each other, laughing loudly on the floor in the spirit of Christmas.
