sinyhale:

rememberyes:

swingsetindecember:

rrrowr:

the1001cranes:

drunktuesdaze:

the1001cranes:

rrrowr:

the1001cranes:

swingsetindecember:

rrrowr:

the1001cranes:

swingsetindecember:

the1001cranes:

swingsetindecember:

a fic where derek shovels grandma stilinski’s walk up stairs in NYC and she invites him in and gives him gingerbread and tells him about her grandson who lives in california.

meanwhile the sheriff worries about his mother living alone in NYC but she blithely says she’s fine. a nice young man named derek helps her out. 

and when the sheriff and stiles make the trek for the holidays up to see grandma, stiles is shocked that the nice young man isn’t a 5th grader but a hot datable guy

bonus points for Derek also being shocked that Stiles isn’t a little 5th grader. Mostly because A) the framed pictures of Stiles on his grandmother’s side table are from kindergarten and grades 3, 6, and 7, (his.growth spurt came late, what do you want from him? and grades 8 through 10 were a no-man’s land of acne and braces.), but also a little bit of B) because what kind of weird schoolyard nickname is Stiles and C) all of Grandma Stilinski’s stories involve Stiles eating weird things and puking, falling off things, or breaking things, if not all three nearly simultaneously. Derek should not be so attracted to this. It’s appalling.

YES especially true because whenever someone tells a story about a younger brother i always picture a 5 yr old. and when i meet them i am like WHY ARE YOU 24 AND DRINKING OMG especially when i help friends christmas shop for younger siblings. like i immediately suggest the toy store and my friends are like, i am getting them vodka and i am like SCANDALIZED but in reality the sibling is like 24 and drives and has a job

oh god and now I’m imagining Derek offering to take Stiles out for a day sometime when Grandma Stilinski mentions her family is coming up for the holiday, thinking that he’ll take the kid ice skating or to FAO Schwarz or whatever so Mabel can have some time with just her son or just give them a bit of a break because Derek has three younger siblings, he knows how annoying kids can get it in enclosed spaces after a while. And Mabel beams at him, all, “that would be so sweet of you, Derek, Stiles hasn’t been up to the city in years“ because there’s nothing grandparents like better than stealth matchmaking.

I’M INVESTED IN THIS RIDICULOUS ROMANTIC COMEDY FIC ALREADY. MAKE IT SO.

DEREK ALL READY DUG OUT HIS OLD PAIR OF HOCKEY SKATES. kids still like skating, right? Meanwhile Cora and Laura are like, Derek you’re a dork

THE DATE STILL HAS SKATING but ends with spiked mulled cider because Stiles is a hot 23 year old. 

“Derek offered to show Stiles around the city!” Mabel announces to the living room at large after Derek stops by to see if she needs anything, and she beams when Stiles and Derek do their best impressions of a pair of fish out of water, and the Sheriff raises an eyebrow.

“I was thinking… ice… skating?” Derek offers finally, because its impossible to course correct now, there is literally nothing else in his brain.

“I love ice skating!” Stiles declares, and his father doesn’t even even attempt to hide his snort. “I mean. It’s been a few years. But not that different from roller skating, right?”

Protip: it is totally different from roller skating.

“Is there ice on my butt?” Stiles asks. “It feels like there’s ice on my butt. If I could feel my butt.” He thinks he’s embarrassing himself, but that is totally not what’s happening.

“No, you’re – um. You’re fine.” Stop staring at his bu— ass, his ass, Derek, stop it. “Do you want to get some hot chocolate?”

Stiles snorts. “I’m not actually twelve, dude.”

“So you are…”

“Twenty-three.”

“Okay. Good. Great.” Bar it is.

TO BE FAIR, DEREK REALLY NEEDS THAT DRINK, what with his whole mental image of Stiles getting turned on its head — let alone sprawled out in the passenger seat of Derek’s car with his legs splayed so wide that Derek’s fingers brush his knee every time he shifts gears.

YOU KNOW I AM HERE FOR THIS.

It takes Derek an appallingly small amount of time to make the jump from ‘Stiles, Mabel’s little ball of West Coast sunshine’ to ‘Stiles, appropriately aged twink Derek would like to bend in half’.

In fact, it takes exactly two drinks — one of which came with a straw Stiles alternates between chewing and fellating. Stiles makes noises about ordering a third between telling him a hysterical story about how he and his BFF Scott accidentally kidnapped their lacrosse captain, could have happened to anyone, honest, when Derek interrupts.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, flat. Too honest. A little like a serial killer, if Cora is to be believed.

“Absolutely,” Stiles says, and leaves the mangled straw on the bar.

Ummmm yesssss but also like, can we please have some Derek waffling on how he REALLY needs to get his hands on Stiles and see how far that flush on his cheeks goes down but ALSO Grandma Stilinski is the only adult figure in his life who has ever approved of him and given him uncomplicated affection and worried about how much he’s eating?????????????????  CAN HE HAVE A MOMENT WHERE HE’S REALLY NOT SURE IF HE SHOULD BE RISKING THAT FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL ELF SPRITE WHO’S DEFINITELY GOING BACK ACROSS THE COUNTRY IN 3 DAYS?  DO THEY COMPROMISE BY DOIN IT ALL FURTIVE AND SECRET AND DETERMINEDLY NOT LOOKING AT EACH OTHER IN THE COMPANY OF SECRET MATCHMAKER GRANDMA STILINKSI WHO IS REVELING IN HER SUCCESS BUT NO ONE IS ACKNOWLEDGING THIS IN PUBLIC?? 

FEEL FREE TO ALSO TURN THIS INTO A FRIENDS EPISODE WHERE STILES CAN SAY “YES BUT DOES SHE KNOW WE KNOW SHE KNOWS WE KNOW SHE KNOWS?”  SHERIFF STILINSKI IS ROSS.  

“We can’t, uhm,” Derek says, once Stiles’s shirt is on the floor and his pants are unbuttoned and they’re not past the point of no return but they’re really close. “Your grandmother can’t know we —”

“Oh, agreed, definitely,” Stiles says, because he’d agree to just about anything coming out of Derek’s mouth right now, but also because SO AGREED, they are so in agreement, his grandmother cannot know about this. She’d have a wedding registry drawn up and a deposit at the rec center of her church for the reception done in two hours flat. “Grandma gets kind of -” Insane about marrying off her one grandkid, and considering she’d already made Derek a sweater and a scarf, he is on the approved shortlist.

“Yeah,” Derek says, thinking that Mabel is probably protective as hell about Stiles. She loves him way too much to just – she’d be horrified to know Derek slept with her grandson, when he promised to take him ice skating. He’s such a monster.

“Time to stop talking about my grandmother,” Stiles declares, and shoves his hand down the front of Derek’s pants to the tune of a very satisfying moan.

DEREK HALE TRYING TO FURTIVELY WALK OF SHAME IT OUT OF GRANDMA STILINSKI’S HOUSE. AND IT’S NOT LIKE HE MEANT TO END UP HERE LAST NIGHT, CAUSE IF HE’D BEEN CAPABLE OF THINKING AT ALL, HE WOULD’VE TAKEN STILES BACK TO HIS PLACE INSTEAD — EVEN IF IT MEANT LAURA’S ENDLESS, MERCILESS TEASING. BUT HE’D PARKED AT THE CURB TO DROP STILES OFF AND THEN HE FOUND HIMSELF TRAILING AFTER TO WALK STILES TO THE DOOR BECAUSE HE WAS SORT OF HELPLESS ON ICE AND WHAT IF HE FELL, AND SURE ENOUGH, STILES SLIPPED A LITTLE, SCRAMBLING SHAKILY TO GRAB DEREK’S ARM AND NEXT THING DEREK KNOWS, STILES IS SLAMMED UP AGAINST HIS FRONT AND HIS COLD NIMBLE FINGERS ARE TUCKING THEMSELVES INTO THE HEAT AT HIS WAIST AND — WELL.

ANYWAY, WALK OF SHAME. SNEAKING DOWNSTAIRS WITH HIS COAT CLUTCHED AGAINST HIS CHEST AND HE’S TIPTOEING DOWN THE STEPS ONLY TO FIND GRANDMA STILINSKI DOING NEEDLEPOINT ON THE SOFA AND SHERIFF STILINSKI CLEARING HIS THROAT AND DRINKING COFFEE IN THE KITCHEN DOORWAY.

“OH SWEETIE,” MABEL SAYS WITHOUT LOOKING UP. “YOU’RE NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HAVING BREAKFAST, SURELY?”

AND SHE BRAGS TO THE SHERIFF ABOUT DEREK’S WAFFLES

(this thread is hard to keep track of)

“Mom,” Sheriff Stilinski says, exasperated, as Derek slinks to the kitchen in mortification. “Are you encouraging this? Under your own roof?”

“Of course,” says Mabel, raising her eyebrows. “It’s December, John. There’ll be enough time for outdoor shenanigans when Derek visits you in June.”

“Jesus Christ,” says the Sheriff, dragging a hand over his face.

“Don’t get religious on me, John,” Mabel says placidly. “That’s not how I raised you. Besides, I have an excellent track record. I don’t perfectly recall how you tried to explain the dining room table situation that Easter, except that I never knew you wanted to try out for the national gymnastics team, but Claudia certainly stuck around after that.”

“Wolves would have been less embarrassing,” John mutters despairingly.

For some reason, Mabel snorts and cranes her neck to watch Derek pulling ingredients out in the usual order. “Back in my day, boy,” she says, rapping John’s knuckles lightly with her needlepoint, “We didn’t have time for all this hemming and hawing. When I met your father, there was a war on. We didn’t wait around.”

“No, you decamped to Canada and raised alpacas in a nudist colony for five years.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” she says smugly. “Derek!” she calls. “Stiles likes his eggs over-hard. And that is not a euphemism!” She smiles at John. “You boys are so good to me. Derek’s waffles are even better than your father’s, God rest his soul.”

“He’s not dead, Mom!”

“Well, it’s not my fault he’s wasting his time on a business trip to Dubai when there’s so much to do here.” She sizes him up. The sounds of breakfast sizzling in the kitchen permeate the silence. “Speaking of which, tell me more about this nurse friend of yours.”

ps this is mabel’s embroidery:

I want to marry this post dsjksjg, can I request 50k of this for xmas?