Thank you @viviena for this amazing animation!!! It is perfect :)) In celebration of such amazing work, I present a fic
Stiles was a very easily distracted five year old. Example A – he had managed to wander off seventeen times in the past hour, constantly caught up in his need to more closely examine every flower or bug that caught his fancy.
He had been taken on the hike to expend some energy, to relieve the restlessness that seemed ingrained into the kid’s bones. It was a common occurrence for Sheriff Stilinski to have to revert back to countless websites that he had bookmarked to look for a new babysitter willing to look after his little bundle of spaz.
It had been almost fate, meeting the Hales. A simple accident, one that the families had long since moved past seeing as a negative. The sheriff and Stiles had gone to the grocery store, his dad looking worn out and tired, staying up too late looking for a new sitter. It seemed like if a person hadn’t already babysat Stiles, they had heard rumors about the boy and his difficult to handle nature. So, for now, the sheriff took the boy everywhere, cashing in favours the receptionists at the precinct owed him when he was called out on duty. But even their patience was growing thin.
It was in the grocery store after John Stilinski and Talia Hale had exchanged pleasant smiles that all hell broke loose. Or well, Stiles broke loose. He had managed to climb out of the back of the cart and wandered the aisle before running head first into a pair of legs. A boy of about nine or ten years looked down at the stumbling mess of a kid by his knees. The boy looked up, saw the man talking pleasantly with his mother and smelled the familial scents.
Sterek AU: Never Trust A Skinny Baker 1/3 | Stiles just wanted to come home and run his bakery with Scott, but of course normalcy isn’t something he’ll ever find in Beacon Hills. The FBI thrust him into an undercover investigation of what they think is a serial killer, and Stiles already knows it’s something different. Worst of all, there’s a model that keeps coming in for cupcakes between shoots. He’s angry and beautiful and an alpha werewolf that happens to be Stiles’s best customer. What could go wrong? Oh yeah, he’s a main suspect in the fucking case. All Stiles has to do is not get murdered by whatever homicidal monster is out there, all the while trying desperately to not fall for ominous Derek Hale. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get compromised.
“You do understand the risks of this operation, yes?” Agent Raphael McCall turns to look at his lanky intern. “This thing is dangerous, primal, and will not hesitate to kill again. We shouldn’t even be letting you do this.” He sits back down in his chair and takes a deep breath as he slides the case file across his large, oak desk. The boy picks it up and wastes no time in flipping through photos and autopsy reports as Agent McCall leans forward on his forearms to speak in a hushed tone. “You absolutely cannot tell anyone while you’re investigating. Not Lydia, not the Argents, and definitely not my son. Comprende? I know his nose is probably stuck into this mess already, but under no circumstance do you compromise yourself.” Agent McCall reaches forward and snatches the file back and goes through the important details, skimming over the police reports and the crime scene photos right to the last couple pages in the folder. “Everything in this packet is what you need to learn. It’s your alias. Your reasons for coming home, what you’ve been up to here at the FBI headquarters, how your internship is going, everything. You say nothing that isn’t in this packet.” “What if the answers aren’t in this packet? Do I call you o-or like, shoot a text?” He makes finger guns and receives a glare from the agent in response. “You know what? I’m great at improvising, I’m sure I can just, uh, make something up based on this—” he wiggles the pages midair, “—incredibly thorough biography.” He rises from his seat in front of the desk and Agent McCall follows suit. “The only people you consult with are your father and the rest of the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department. They’ve already been briefed and await your arrival.” He reaches into his suit pocket and tosses a pair of keys at the boy. “We pulled some strings and got Scott to send your car up. It’s parked out front.” “Whoa, wait—” The agent stops from his departure and takes another deep breath as he turns around at the kid behind him. “What is it?” “Do I have a cool code name or anything?” He starts bobbing his head to music that isn’t playing. “I could be like, Batman or something.” McCall opens the office door and shakes his head. “You’re going home. You don’t need one.” He motions for the kid to leave. “Your alias is just yourself, Stiles Stilinski.” Stiles’s face falls into pursed lips. “Whatever. I’m going.” He jingles his keys as he walks out of the office and into an array of cubicles. “Hey one more th—” He turns and the door closes. And locks. Twice. “Just go do your job, Stiles,” Agent McCall says through the door. “This creature isn’t going to catch itself.”
theproblemwithstardust 