“The Hales are dangerous, Lydia,” Jackson butted in, coming to Stiles’ rescue. “Haven’t you heard the rumors about how they eat newly turned weres on the night of the full moon?”
“Wha-” Stiles let out a strangled noise and Jackson patted him in fake sympathy, suppressing his usual cocky smile.
“Well, haven’t you heard the rumors about how they grow horns and a pointed tail and carry a pitchfork on other nights?” Allison countered, huffing out a soft laugh. “Those rumors are ridiculous,”
“Can we please stop talking about the Hales?” Stiles pleaded, shivering and tired, rubbing the towel over his flat dripping hair. “…especially Derek, who still scares me,” he swallowed hard.
[aka, even though Talia Hale’s first and foremost plan on moving to Beacon Hills was to “Clean up the Hale image”, Derek looked far too contented with his “Scaring the shit out of Stiles” plan. Just - he didn’t know Stiles was already of age and maybe transforming into something pretty badass any day]