MoM IC Contact Post

[threeisapattern]

IC contact for Stiles Stilinski: texts, phone calls, voicemails, pigeons, etc.

Comments

[threeisapattern]

[Stiles sighs before pushing the door open even further in invitation. Not that he had any chance of shutting it once Derek realized there was (a) Bart and (b) pizza.] It's cool, dude. Sorry I've been flaking. I'm not avoiding you.

[kid_flash_found]

[Bart nods, and gives Derek a scratch to say hello.]

Top box is yours. But if I've learned anything about this century, I know everything is better with pizza.

[threeisapattern]

Pretty sure that's true any century with pizza.

[He grabs the indicated box off the top and puts it on his desk, though he doesn't get a slice yet.]

...So.

[kid_flash_found]

Want to talk, or should I just move on to the discussion of why the furmonster isn't supposed to share our dinner?

[threeisapattern]

He can have, like - a bite. [Derek whines, definitely complaining in dog about the tiny amount he's being allowed, and Stiles ruffles his ears affectionately.] It's not good for you, bud, I've told you that.

[kid_flash_found]

Yeah, I know. They lose the ability to process milk-fats and other things, like some people. Doesn't mean we aren't going to both have puppy-dog-eyes to deal with as long as there's anything that smells yummy.

[He's amused, though, and shifts to put his own boxes next to the one Stiles had taken so he can grab a piece, and pinches off a bit of crust to offer. No cheese, but a little bit of something so the poor guy won't feel totally left out.]

I think Gar said it's a predator thing. That if there's food, you eat until there's no room, because it might be a while before more is available. He was always careful when he was in those shapes, but then, he rarely ate in another form in general.