#steter moodboard

[omgtheywereawooomates]

favorite teen wolf ships: .....😳👉👈

[derangedfujoshi]

My desire to devour you

[exequien]

steter moodboard/collage thing i made, feel free to use as inspiration!!

[softranswolves]

Teen Wolf Moodboards:

Peter Hale x Stiles Stilinski

[nickcharleswife]

@beaconfeels our conversation today got my brain going so I cracked open Canva & my Pinterest boards and 4 variants and an hour later, I now have a lil mood board based on my recent fanfic - Stickiness: the Enemy and the Reward

I now have more ideas that will certainly distract me from writing, ha

(credit to all original owners & editors of photos pulled from Google & Pinterest)

[derpylittlenico]

Little Red & his Big Bad Wolf

favorite teen wolf otps & ot3s: Steter

[triskhellion]

magic at rest tends to stay at rest...unless

Story by @geekmom13 💖, moodboard by me.

Sterek Reverse Bang 2024.

Rated: Teen

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey, Alan Deaton

Tags: Getting Together, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Magical Accidents, Fox Stiles Stilinski, Full Shift Werewolf Derek Hale, Guilt, Survivor's Guilt, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Peter is a Little Shit, Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Memory Alteration, Time Fuckery, Steter brotp, References to canon character deaths

Summary: The pack wasn't sure what to expect when they got an emergency text from their Alpha. No one expected to find his teenage self, eyes still red. They also didn't expect the rest of the town to act like it was normal that he was suddenly younger.

AO3

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

Dear @teenwolfholidayfest ,

Another year is coming to an end soon and the hols vibes are already in full swing. It would amazing to receive either fic, art, gifs or moodboards for:

1) Hip hop/break (aka b-boy) dancer Stiles!!! I am really convinced Stiles can break some moves, so yaaaass.

2) More blogger Derek with snark and wit, because why the hell not? I bet his replies to folks are probably hilarious.

3) Sterek going on dates. Could be blind dates or actual dates that don't go quite as planned (but it's the thought that counts, right?)

4) More tea shop stuff, please! Tea is awesome! 5) BDSM culture, consent and overall sex positivity. I would 1000% like to see more of this for sure! 6) Stackson bromance or romance and these two being assholes who care about each other. 7) Anything Scira, tbh. Maybe delving more into heirlooms, culture or traditions? 8) Stilinski family feels (kudos if Claudia is included!) 9) All the Hale family feels (AU or pre-fire) 10) Whatever happens in the hot tub or the sauna stays there. 11) Food critic, chef, or cooking Steter works...do those exist? I could def use more of that in my life. 12) Anything Hanahaki or language of flower related, because that's one of my weaknesses.

Thanks so much! Cheers, sugareey-makes-stuff / sugareey

[steter-bang]

It's our final fic rec Friday featuring fics from last year's Steter Mini Bang! Show these authors and artists some love on these great works!

If you missed any of them, you can find the collection from last year here.

Criminal Author: KiraH69 Rating: G Words: 1,220 Summary: "Stiles has custom ringtones for every member of the pack. Some can be very telling."

Mama I'm in Love Artist: LivviBee Rating: G Summary: "Moodboard created for The Steter Mini Bang 2022."

Can't Fight This Feeling Author: Sophtly Rating: M Words: 23,812 Summary: "In which Stiles stumbles into friendship with Peter, and everything changes for the better...eventually."

The Rest of the Story Author: Goddess47 Rating: T Words: 3,233 Summary: Missing scenes from Sophtly's amazing Steter Mini Bang story "Can't Fight This Feeling"

It's All My Fault Author: Sivan325 Rating: T Words: 3,311 Summary: "Stiles went out with the alcohol he’d scored off some bum who wanted a bottle in exchange for buying it for him and drank his guilt away. He knew that he was at fault, and that if it wasn’t for him, Scott wouldn’t have gotten the bite, Allison wouldn’t have died, and the whole Nogitsune thing wouldn’t have happened."

It's Not Your Fault (I'll Annoint You) Author: Irukashi_Narukib Rating: T Words: 4,945 Summary: "When Stiles leaves Beacon Hills Peter takes note. He never stops hoping he'll return. When Stiles finally does, Peter's shocked at the state he's in and works quickly to remedy it."

Foxes and Wolves Author: LuckyBishop Rating: T Words: 5,289 Summary: "When the Stilinskis move to Beacon Hills with their young son, Stiles, they expect to be acknowledged by the local Alpha and left in peace. They don’t expect their families to become thick as thieves, or for their baby shifters to grow up and fall in love."

[Podfic] Foxes and Wolves Podficcer: bri Rating: T Length: 00:32:49 Summary: “When the Stilinskis move to Beacon Hills with their young son, Stiles, they expect to be acknowledged by the local Alpha and left in peace. They don’t expect their families to become thick as thieves, or for their baby shifters to grow up and fall in love. [Podfic version of "Foxes and Wolves" by LuckyBishop]"

[teenwolfminibang]

Welcome/FAQ

What is this?

What is says on the tin up there! An event to create a supportive environment for authors working on long fic featuring less popular pairings and genfic for Teen Wolf!

So what can I write?

For the purposes of this event: No pairings that have had fic-exclusive events in the past two years are allowed for this event for the purpose of elevating pairings/characters less explored. This excludes Sterek, Steter, Thiam, and Steo, for example, but not Scerek, Allydia, Stalia, or individual characters.

Any rarepairs, polyships, or genfic are allowed. If you aren't sure just ask.

What Can I sign up for?

You can sign up to write, create art or beta read!

How long does my fic have to be?

Minimum word count is 10k, no upward limit.

Can I work on wips?

Yes.

If the work hasn't been posted, carry on.

If the work has been posted you may request mod approval so long as fic will be complete by the event deadline and over 10k of new words will be added to the wip.

What qualifies as art?

Drawings, moodboards, gif sets. Do you have other ideas? I'm open to listening. Many things count as art.

How much art do I have to make?

One piece of art will be required per fic you choose.

How do I sign up?

Read the rules here. And then send me a dm or email with your summary and estimated word count. Writer sign ups will run Mar 1st-15th. Artist sign ups will begin May 15th.

I missed sign ups but I have a fic and would really like to play!

Send me an email or a dm and we can talk about it!

I missed a deadline and don't know what to do.

Send me an email or dm and we can talk about it!

What email address should I send questions to? scribeoffate@gmail.com

Rules

Timeline

[teenwerewoofs]

Peter has seen the drifter around town. He's heard about him bouncing around from farm to farm, lending a hand where he can for some under-the-table cash and a dry barn to sleep in for the night. Argent's been taking time out of his busy schedule of harassing Peter about selling his farm to ask probing questions about the drifter. From what Peter can piece together, Argent had a run-in with the kid and didn't seem to like the mouth on him. Peter decides to see if he can find the kid and convince him to come work for him on his farm. He can appreciate a well-timed wise-ass remark, especially when it's directed at Argent. And, well... the enemy of his enemy is his friend, right?

For day 4 of @steterweek!

[omgtheywereawooomates]

teen wolf au: stiles has secrets + steter

there's a lot that stiles keeps hidden from the pack. peter has always known that. though he doubts it's anything malicious, per se, peter is unquestionably curious.

after all, their very own red riding hoodie trips into trouble so often you'd think it was actively seeking him out.

so, peter snooped. he's not ashamed. that said, he was expecting clumsily hidden porn downloads, at best. or, maybe a bit of illicit magic research. the drag queens and the whole...illegally clubbing thing was a surprise

bonus point iF: instead of peter finding illicit porn hidden on stiles' laptop, he finds hundreds of pics of him in various states of dress--including drag once or twice--at the club with the queens. (maybe brett was there, even. idk. he seems like someone the queens would like, too.)

[wildriot]

Steter Week Day 1

[peterrparrkerr]

I've got some fics in the works for teen wolf if anyone wants to check them out!

Wolfsong

Derek lifted his nose, smelled the cold air around him, and only relaxed when the smell of pack warmed his lungs. He turned towards the sound, trotting through the snow. He pauses when he reaches the clearing further into the preserve. The man looking back at him isn’t familiar, though his scent screams that Derek knows him.

He lowers his head, shoulders hunched. He can feel his heckles rising at the confusing contradiction. The man is naked, pale skin lithe and littered with moles and freckles. He doesn’t seem to mind the cold -it doesn’t seem to affect him in the slightest.

Hale Ranch

Stiles is a drifter from the city who finds himself taking a job at an old family friend's ranch in the middle of nowhere. He gets a room and three meals a day, and a decent paycheck.

With no prior ranch hand experience, Stiles gets dumped on Peter, the senior ranch hand at Argent Ranch. It goes as smoothely as one would expect.

[softranswolves]

Top Teen Wolf Ships - Stiles

2. Peter/Stiles

[itsme-basil]

Hale Ranch

Part I - read on ao3

Tagging: @carelessannie, @vaguekiwi and @starkeristheendgame

*-*

It's a day like any other. The sun is high in the sky, heating the clothes on Peter’s back, and the ranch hands are busy taking care of the property. Peter can hear Chris hollering with laughter over the distressed squealing of the hog he and Jordan are in charge of corralling for the vet’s visit.

Peter manages a glance over from his own pen, smirking a little when he sees Jordan on his ass, glaring at Chris, who’s doubled over in laughter, pointing a finger while the pig tottles to the other end of the pen.

Peter turns his attention back to the quarter horse, clicking his tongue as he keeps a steady pinwheel to the whip in his hands. He easily switches hands, forcing the horse in the opposite direction. The horse whinnies, throwing his head before falling back into the easy canter. Peter continued the gentle clicking of his tongue, guiding the yearling around and around.

It’s mid-noon, almost quitting time for a quick meal before going back to work. Peter lets the whip drop to the dusty ground, stepping out of the middle of the circle as the young colt slows to a trot. He shakes his head and blows a raspberry as he makes his way to Peter.

It's still a bit of a challenge getting the halter on the yearling -he hasn't quite figured out how to keep his head still- but Peter manages, settling a praising pat to the long bridge of his nose as he walks to the gate.

The truck pulls in then. Red and about as old as Peter was, but still kicking. Argent is behind the wheel, his nearly white hair hard to miss even with the glare of the sun on the windshield. Peter pulls the yearling along, heading for the barn, but he glances back when two doors slam instead of one.

There’s a kid pulling a duffle bag from the bed of Argent’s truck bed, looking around the ranch with a look most city-folk get when visiting. Peter disappears into the barn, taking the horse to his stall and patting his flank as he walks himself in.

“See we got fresh meat?”

Peter locks the stall door and glances over at Theo, who’s coming in from the other side of the barn, the brim of his hat soaked with sweat. Peter pulls his own hat off, using his hand to slick back his damp hair before settling the brim back in place over his forehead.

“Jordan’s already taking bets on how long he’ll stay.”

“I’m sure he is,” Peter grunted with a roll of his eyes. “C’mon, I’m starving, and I think the missus made skillet rice.”

The two make their way towards the house, dusting themselves off as they go. They stomp their boots on the porch, going through the mud room on the side of the house so they won't track anything into the rest of the Argent home.

The table is already full, but Peter forces himself between Boyd and Chris. He was right. In the middle of the table are two large skillets full of yellow rice, pinto beans, corn, green peppers and tomatoes. Peter almost moans out loud when he notices the stringy meat of pulled chicken as he scoops some into the bowl in front of him.

“How’s that yearling, Hale?” Jackson asked on the other side of the table, already scooping a spoonful of the rice into his mouth, smirking as he chewed.

“Still giving you trouble?” Jordan asked, eyes bright with the jab. Peter rolled his eyes, shoving food into his mouth.

“How’s the hog?” Peter asked instead of answering, and Chris nearly spewed his rice across the table as he choked on a laugh. Jordan shot them both a glare, but the whole table erupted in laughter then, loud and carefree. Peter couldn’t help but chuckle along with them.

There’s not really much sticking around. The hands eat their fill, some going for seconds, and then they’re out the door with a shout of thanks to MaryAnn for the food. Peter’s one of the last to leave, taking care to stack the dishes as he finishes chewing. He gets a gentle pat on his stubbled cheek that has him smiling as he leaves the house.

*-*

He meets the new hand later that afternoon. Argent is with him -showing the boy the property and giving him the rundown. Peter remembers being in his shoes, listening to the long list of chores and rules Argent threw at him. The kid looked just as overwhelmed as Peter had been, all those years ago.

But unlike the kid, Peter had been raised on a farm his whole life. Sure, it wasn’t as big as the Argent ranch, but it wasn’t a house in the suburbs either. Peter was used to waking up before the sun and working long after the sun had set. Only difference is now, he’s working with ranch hands, and getting paid.

It’s a good life -one Peter can’t see ever leaving- but he does miss the familial comradery of doing chores with his brothers and sisters, with his nieces and nephew. Having a bed in the main house to call his own.

He watches out of the corner of his eye as the boy follows Argent along, long legs working fast in his haste to keep up with the old farmer.

“Little to the left.”

Peter turned his attention back to the post in his hands, widening his stance a bit before tilting the wood to the left. Below him, Isaac is dumping in the dry cement. The two kick dirt in around the post, filling the rest of the hole before packing it down with their boots. Once the rain hits, the cement will harden, keeping the post in place.

They move on to the next post. This time, it's Isaac holding the post while Peter gets on his knees. He forgets to keep an eye on Argent and the new hand until the two are walking over.

The new guy is thin, broad shoulders hunched forward, hands in the pockets of his dark wash jeans. They look about as flimsy as the kid does. Peter wouldn’t doubt the kid’s never stepped foot on a ranch a day in his life. Maybe a petting zoo.

“This is Hale and Lahey,” Argent greeted roughly, nodding to each hand. Peter stood up, clapping the dust and dirt from his gloves before nodding at the boy.

“How’s it goin’,” Isaac drawled, taking his own glove off and holding out his hand.

“This is Stiles,” Argent introduced as the kid shook Isaac’s hand. It was soft, and it had Isaac smirking as he took his hand back, slipping it back into his glove. “He’s gonna be helping out a while. I expect you two to get him introduced to the rest of ‘em and teach him the ropes.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Peter nodded, tipping his head a bit. Argent gave Stiles a pat on his shoulder that nearly had Stiles sprawling onto the ground before leaving. The boy coughed a bit, before looking at Peter and Isaac.

“You ever worked a ranch?” Isaac asked, knowing he hadn’t. It wasn’t hard to spot a first timer. The kid was dressed in skinny jeans and a graphic t-shirt, for crying out loud. He might as well be waving a neon flag.

“Not really,” Stiles shrugged with a wince. “I mean, I’ve helped out around my friend’s place, but that was mostly collecting eggs and feeding the goats.”

“Well, we don’t have goats,” Peter said, leaning his elbow on the top of the post he had Isaac had just finished implanting. “And we leave the chickens to Allison.”

Stiles nodded and Peter huffed in amusement. “You know how to ride?”

“Uh, no.”

Peter gets an elbow to the ribs when he can’t help but chuckle. He quickly turns it into a cough, but he knows the boy caught on.

“Listen, kid,” Peter settled on a sigh. He might as well be the bad guy here and hurt the boy’s feelings before someone like Theo or Jackson get their claws in. “This isn’t some fancy vacation or a summer job. This is long hours with no breaks and no special treatment. You're up before the rooster crows and you’re on your feet from five in the morning until nine at night.

“This is hard manual labor that never ends. You get done with one job and there’s ten more waitin’ for you. This isn’t some job you can leave at the door when you get home, it’s a way of life, and it's not for everybody,” he said, watching as Stiles frowned, shoulders tensing. “It’s best you realize that quick before you end up hurtin’ yourself, or gettin’ one of us hurt.”

It takes a second for Stiles to find his words, and Peter knows the kid’s gonna try to defend himself. They all usually do. It doesn't take more than a couple weeks before their bunk is empty though and they’re scurrying back to where they came.

“I can handle it,” Stiles says, sounding confident. Peter eyes him steadily, but doesn’t bother pressing the issue. He’s said his piece.

“Alright, then,” Peter nodded. Stiles blinked in surprise, gearing up for Peter to argue. “Hold this post still. You got gloves?”

Stiles explodes into movement, stepping closer as Peter made his way to the next post.

“No,” he says. Peter reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a spare pair and handing them over. Stiles quickly pulls them on. They’re a couple sizes too big, and Peter makes a mental note to take him to the barn to pick from the box of spares they’ve got from older hands who’ve come and gone to find a pair that wont fall off.

Stiles holds the top of the post, and Peter gets to work dumping in the dry cement. Isaac sticks around, carrying a post from the pile to where they’d already made holes. They make quick work with three of them, and by the time they hear the dinner bell from the house, all three have worked up a sweat.

Stiles uses his forearm to wipe at his forehead, panting a bit. “How far is this fence supposed to go?” He asks as they walk towards the house.

“Few more acres, I reckon,” Isaac grins. “Gotta make more room for the beef we’re ‘spectin’ come next summer.”

Stiles’ eyes widen comically.

There’s an extra chair at the table for dinner. Stiles sits down beside Isaac. Peter finds his own seat beside Jackson, elbowing the younger in the ribs when he makes a go for the roll on his plate.

“Wanna lose that hand, Whittemore?” Peter growled out, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s your name, new guy?” Theo calls from the other end of the table. Stiles looks up from his plate of brisket and greens, fork halfway to his mouth, looking embarrassed as everyone turns to look at him. He stood out like a sore thumb.

“Uh, Stiles?”

“How was your first day?” Chris asked. “Had to’ve been pretty hard, seein’ you had to put up with Peter.”

The table laughs. Stiles glances at Peter. Peter rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his dinner.

“Pretty easy, actually,” Stiles shrugged, returning to his food. Chris raises an eyebrow, glances at Peter with a humorous glint in his eye, and then ducks down to tear into his roll.

Chris is the only Argent who eats with the ranch hands. His wife and daughter eat with MaryAnn and Gerard in the actual dining room further into the house. He claims it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to go through the hassle of showering before every meal, but Peter knows that’s not the whole truth. Guy has more fun sitting around with a bunch of sweaty ranch hands and working his ass off all day than living the sweet life as a rancher.

Peter’s surprised when Stiles stays back to help him stack the dishes after the other hands leave, and even more so when he goes to stand by MaryAnn at the kitchen sink, shoving his sleeves up to his elbows before dunking two hands in sudsy water. He smiles over at MaryAnn, head tilted down.

Peter leaves through the back door, the gravel crunching under his boots as he makes his way towards their housing. Nestled behind the stables, attached to the barn, where a couple rooms and a common area had been built on.

It’s nothing fancy. Enough room in the common area for a couple couches and a ping pong table. The other hands use it more to play cards on, since the old net had broken during a roughhousing incident between Chris and Peter.

Most of the hands bunk together, which no one minds. The rooms are big enough, and most of them don’t have much belongings. Peter, being the senior hand, had his own room, though with Stiles moving in, he’s sure that’s changed.

Seven hands, four rooms.

He’s proven right when he walks into his room and spots the duffle bag on the bed across from Peter’s. Someone must’ve brought it in while Peter was out working. There’s a stack of folded sheets, a thin fleece blanket and pillow at the head of the bed. Beside Stiles’ bag is a pair of work boots -used, but clean- and a sherpa lined Carhart jacket that’s seen its fair share of weathering.

Peter takes the time he has alone to straighten up his things, careful to move the beat up tin box further under his bed. He hangs his hat on the bed post and strips out of his day clothes. The shirt will need to be washed tomorrow, but the jeans stand to last another day or two.

Peter usually waits to shower until the morning, when the water heater’s had a break from the other hands having their showers in the evening. No one wants to wake up earlier to shower, so he gets plenty of hot water.

He’s just flopping into bed when the door pushes open and Stiles shuffles in, looking dead on his feet. He glances at Peter, and blinks a bit, not realizing who he was bunking with.

“Sorry,” he managed, shutting the door behind him and making his way to his side of the small room.

“Breakfast is at five thirty,” Peter hummed. “I’m not gonna wake you up, so set an alarm.”

“Right,” Stiles nods. Peter rolls over to face the wall, shuffling under his blankets while he listens to Stiles make his bed. By the time sleep pulls him under, Stiles has turned off the light and shuffled into his own bed.