Veterization

Stiles has a certain image in his head of what English teachers are supposed to look like, an image nurtured by a propensity for all of his teachers to be old and wrinkly and have soft croaky voices whose lectures sound like endless excerpts from the textbook that Stiles has the tremendous skill of droning out. By the time they get through the first quarter, Stiles is doodling transformers and scribbling random llama factoids on his tests. He gets enough answers right to still average a B and his teachers say nothing other than idly tell his father that his son is hopelessly unfocused. It works, up until he gets Mr. Hale in sophomore year. T

Nobody tells Stiles that Peter fucking Hale is back. He doesn’t blame anybody—after all, it happens during a time so full of fear and stress that small talk and nightly news updates aren’t exactly abundant, but Stiles still would’ve appreciated the heads up. The last thing he remembers about Peter is his warm breath on his wrist, fangs growing and ready to bite into vulnerable flesh, and then finding Jackson in a blur of adrenaline and managing to prepare a replica of the Molotov cocktail Lydia made back during that night in the school to hurl at Peter’s arm. It was easy to set fire to a hairy creature with a sn

Scott’s pretty sure that the only time that he and his brother ever get along is when they’re forced to bathe together as little tots and, under a wordless agreement to not flick shampoo in each other’s eyes, cohabit the bathtub with little to no fussing or screeching. It is something of a miracle even back then and never lasts more than thirty minutes of lukewarm peace among the suds. They’re still young, Scott two years old and proudly counting the days to his fourth birthday and Derek six years old and never letting Scott forget it. He’s too good for playing in the mud, too good for squishing worms in his han

When Stiles is young, prepubescent and much too gangly for his own limbs, he goes to a birthday party with twelve other squeaky-voiced kids in his grade and they go ice skating, or more accurately, find over fifty ways to imaginatively fall on their asses. He sees Lydia Martin there, her head full of messy curls too big for her tiny body, and watches her skate much more gracefully than any of the others. She’s a natural on her skates and seems to become one entity with the ice, and Stiles thinks that now he has a surefire way of getting Lydia to notice him, fall in love with him, and eventually have his four children. He cooks the idea