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Posts tagged: THE NIGHT IS DARK AND FULL OF STEREK

foxedfire:

you two make a pretty good pair

mercuuu:

I’M CRYING THIS IS PERFECT

mercuuu:

I’M CRYING THIS IS PERFECT

alphahel:

Stiles newest plan after this. sorry Derek, i’m pretty sure he won’t stop ><
au credit goes to: statisticallymorelikely

alphahel:

Stiles newest plan after this. sorry Derek, i’m pretty sure he won’t stop ><

au credit goes to: statisticallymorelikely

Stiles?”

I'm afraid Stiles isn't home right now, Derek.”

and if I recover, will you be my comfort?

statisticallymorelikely:

Isaac: isn’t that your sheep bf?

Derek: pls shut up

Bonus:

image

Anonymous
asks:
Derek as the awkward snarky spinster employed by local Squire Stilinski to chaperone his reckless enthusiastic daughter Stiles and her best friend Scott through the Season. Derek vows to keep them away from the moody dangerous rake (Peter? Kate?) that Derek herself has history with. Away from anyone, really, especially Stiles, Scott and Lady Allison (or Kira?) are good but everyone else in London seems to be ugh, def. not good enough for Stiles. Lesbian regency ftw! y/n?

halfhardtorock:

omg, I’m CRYING.

It’s like lesbian!Teen Wolf!Northanger Abbey. 

And Stiles and Scott would whisper together after dinner, about beautiful, tragic Derek Hale and her mysterious spinsterhood. Why would such a raven haired, handsome (albeit cantankerous) woman like Derek be UNMARRIED? Stiles would stare at her with her mouth in a grim line, eyes narrowed, trying to figure it out. 

Maybe Derek would invite them to her father’s gothic abbey and they’d spend their visit snooping around, trying to discover if Derek had a lost love of some sort, or was she spurned by someone like that rakish Deucalion??

And they’d meet lively Peter Hale, who’d make Derek especially sullen. Stiles would giggle a lot at Peter’s antics but always wander away from the garden to look for Derek, who’d be somewhere with a book, frowning so hard she looks like she’s trying to set the pages on fire with her eyes.

And maybe Stiles doesn’t know about how she feels until one night, there’s a fire in the village nearby and the household is awoken and Stiles dashes out into the hall and sees Derek there in her dressing gown with her hair loose. With her hair. Loose. All long, draped over her breasts. Her breasts that looks loose and soft under her thin gown. 

Stiles’ mouth would just hang open, her eyes wide. Everyone would be frantic about the fire and she’d be staring at Derek’s hair, let down.

And Derek would notice and blush and say “You…you must stay here, Stiles. Your father would…everyone would be displeased if something happened to you.” 

And then she’d go into her room to change and come out again in a pair of MEN’S TROUSERS. Her hair loosely braided, impatient to go help put the fire out and attend to the victims.

Stiles would be frantic with worry. Not even Scott can soothe her. So she ends up stealing into Derek’s room and climbing into her bed, waiting. Sleeping lightly. 

And then she wakes to candle light and Derek just standing there at the bedside, staring down at her with this look on her face.

And Stiles would jolt and be like “I—I’m sorry, I was so worried. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

But a hand would stroke through her own loose hair and then Derek would be leaning down, eyes gone soft, and there would be a kiss, all golden candlelight and the warm, wet touch of lips. 

And then Derek would climb into her own bed, looking Stiles over like Stiles is the most beautiful thing she’s ever laid eyes on.

Stiles would sigh in contentment and rub her thumb over an ash mark on her minder’s cheek.