#disaster hales
More Teen Derek being a failwolf who does not know How to Person. He’s not so dumb as to flat out discuss pack matters or anything obviously supernatural, but he also has zero reference point as to what’s normal to discuss with humans. Meaning he’s casually mentioning things Not To Be Said To Outsiders. Like, he’s absolutely sitting with Stiles at lunch and talking about how Nana Hale is insisting the way the lunar calendar lines up with the solstices this year is supposed to be unlucky and predicts a change in telluric currents around the Nemeton, so they should all be on their toes as the natural energies shift. Peter, visiting for lunch, eavesdrops for 0.7 seconds and has to immediately leave and have a meltdown in private because what the entire fuck, Derek, no.
Cue the Hales collectively stressing TF out because oh God, oh fuck, not good, what if this kid figures out the family, he’s supposed to be smart, his dad’s the Sheriff, oh damn it.
But they forget that Stiles is a teenager living in 21st century California, in Beacon Hills. He’s used to weird. He likes weird. He is weird. Just embrace the strange, bro. He just thinks the Hales are just…very New Age. Hell, they already live way out in the middle of the woods and grow their own food, so what if Derek has the lunar calendar memorized and talks about a sacred grove and knows literally every form of wildlife living in the Preserve? Neo-paganism is a thing. It’s no crazier than any other religion, he ain’t gonna judge.
So Laura is sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, listening in on her dumbass brother and his pet, almost audibly sweating, thinking, oh fuck, Mom is gonna kill him, literally kill him, I’m about to be a sibling short.
Meanwhile:
Derek: *yammering about how Nana is definitely right about the solstice, the forest has felt very strange the past few days*
Stiles, internally, only half-listening: I am so gonna wife this hippie.
Derek: True warriors don’t faint. We take unintended, decisive naps.
Peter: Crazy how aside from being deeply, deeply flawed and utterly irredeemable I’m essentially perfect.
For my second date with Derek, we met in the city and went to a party and ended up at a restaurant at 3:00 AM where he reached across the table, grabbed my hands, looked at me adoringly, and said, “I hate this. I wanted to go to bed at 9:00. Do not expect this of me again.”
- Stiles
Stiles, lying on the floor drunk: I feel like a noodle.
Derek, sober but still a disaster: I like pasta.
Derek: I don’t ONLY care about myself. I care about like…5 other people. And animals.
Isaac: Scott doesn’t want to be in the pack. You shouldn’t force it.
Derek: I’m not forcing. I’m aggressively facilitating.
