Derek is chasing a squirrel. It’s maybe not his proudest ever moment, but it’s also one of the things he likes best about being what he is: indulging in pure, basic instinct. Everything is simple to a wolf, even one with a human capacity for reason. Scott and the others, the bitten pack that Derek has tried to make into a family, seem to think of the wolf as a separate entity, but Derek knows better. Derek knows that, most days, he’s more wolf than man.

The whole thing starts with Stiles’ naked body, which is, apparently, “perfect.”

Derek desperately needs to fire the newest volunteer at the kitten nursery. Mostly because the guy keeps saying things.

The child is dirty and huge-eyed and streaked with mysterious blood. It’s wearing something filthy that could be generously described as a dress but looks more like a sheet, and it’s all so Dickensian, it’s almost over the top. It’s obviously not even remotely human. Of course Stiles wants to take it home.

Monday was the actual best. Stiles had a good hour before he would be officially working, his hands were warm despite the weather because he had them wrapped around two wonderful-smelling hot coffee beverages, and he was leaning on the paddock fence, watching Derek Hale catch his horse for him. Mondays were made out of rainbows and magic, and nobody would ever convince Stiles otherwise.

Stiles is profoundly suspicious of the city that sits on the barren ice sheet at the North Pole. His friend Scott doesn’t seem to mind being an elf-slave, and liberating the captive reindeer was not Stiles’ best idea ever, but a little recon inside the city walls is too tempting to pass up.

The thing is, Stiles has no interest whatsoever in going on a TV dating show. Deep down, in his heart of hearts – and publicly, to anyone who is foolish enough to bring up the topic – Stiles thinks it’s kind of pathetic. Because it’s all fake, for starters, like all “reality” TV is fake, but also he thinks the people who go on those shows are more interested in attention than love, so what’s the point? It’s like narcissistic masturbation with some television exhibitionism thrown in for good measure. And letting the entire nation – nay, the world – mock your lack of pick-up prowess? Noooo thank you.

So he takes them on a trip to the zoo, because it’s a valuable learning opportunity, but also because he’s hoping maybe it will tire Stiles out and the kid will actually just go home at a reasonable hour and leave Derek alone. He’s hoping to get in some quality brooding time.

They don’t have a minivan, okay? It’s a sport utility crossover vehicle, Stiles. It’s utilitarian, and it makes sense, and considering Stiles once called the Camaro a “penis replacement,” it’s kind of hypocritical of him to knock the Toyota, too.

Stiles was willing to give anything at all to erase the careful distance that Derek always kept, even from him.

The thing was, as much as Derek believed in Stiles, with every fiber of his being, he didn’t honestly believe that things would turn out as well as Stiles seemed to think they would.

Stiles wanted Derek to be happy, and he wanted Derek to be safe, and these things were as obvious and visible as the tattoos on Stiles’ skin, the shapes that Derek could trace now with his fingers without even looking.

The tattoo parlor didn’t look like much. The apprentice who was supposed to be inking Derek’s new magical tattoo wasn’t immediately confidence-inspiring either.

There’s something seriously wrong with Mr. Hale’s kindergarten class. They’re adorable on an inhuman level and too well-behaved to be real children.

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and Stiles and his new dog totally have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this dog is his spirit animal, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

Derek’s expecting the new guy. He’s expecting another mostly-useless college kid who doesn’t know one end of a horse from the other, and Derek doesn’t have the time to babysit. What he’s not expecting is Stiles Stilinski, who carries on conversations with the livestock and gets maybe a little too chummy with Isaac and is really kind of stupidly perfect in every way. And it’s just distracting, that’s all.

Stiles doesn’t actually mean to become Beacon Hills High’s go-to guy for free condoms and sex advice. It just happens.

He looks down at the long curve of Stiles’ bare back and wants to paint it himself, to press a wet palm between Stiles’ shoulders, leave a crimson stain there to bind them together and give them a place to begin. He wants a common point of color that isn’t a shared spilling of blood.

Derek’s parents pick up a hitchhiker. Laura is completely horrible. Everything turns out better than expected.

Stiles’ kid has a tendency to get into fights and possibly has bad taste in friends. Or enemies. Stiles isn’t sure yet, but he’s pretty sure the other kid’s dad is too hot to be human.