#but in french i will only have my sister who is in college and has forgotten most of french
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i don't know what cbse is like because in icse we only have english and a second language but avoid taking hindi if the marking scheme is rigid. maybe where u live u speak hindi as the regional language or in your home so it might be different for you but if my school offered french i would take it without a single doubt because a) icse hindi marking scheme is BRUTAL i know only 3 people who got above 57/80 in prelims and b) french is kind of an easy language to grasp because the text is in english and many of the basic words are similar to english words especially the larger action verbs and c) (specific to me only but lets see if it helps) i am gujarati and marathi i do not come from a remotely hindi family my parents moved to my city for job opportunities at a very young age and i have grown up speaking english or gujrati in my house so much that i literally did not learn hindi speaking till 3rd grade. even now i have barely a few friends i talk to hindi in, most stuff i watch is in english and i never got good marks inhindi because i lack practice which is KEY.
another thing i would tell you to take french is because you will realistically not come across naturally french speaking people in india so the bar for that will be much lower and easier to break. i know which area of the country you live in and starting off in 8th with hindi your language scoring WILL be at a higher bar for sure than french where you'll start from the basics, and in the event that you make mistakes the examiner will grade you more leniently because you will not speak it as a natural language which in my experience is not something that hindi examiners will do. its also up to what future you want for yourself bc government jobs and stuff will be easier with hindi but for westernish or progressive jobs it's better to take french
EXACTLY LIKE THEY ARE SO LENIENT IN FRENCH AND LIKE HINDI BEING THE MOTHER TONGUE HERE THE BAR IS SO MUCH HIGHER and our sir was literally telling us today how cbse is so lenient with marks in french cause its our third language but also like. i literally cannot understand/read french that well cause during covid i did not study french at all AND AGHHHHH WHY IS THIS SO CONFUSING
#HINDI MEIN PPL DONT GET GOOD MARKS IN HIGHER CLASSES IVE HEARD but i get pretty good marks rn and#my friend's sister got 97 in boards in 10th BUT HER SISTER IS ALSO KIND OF A LANGUAGE GENIUS SO#BAHHH#u cant get full in hindi ever also#so like that will drag my whole average down if it take hindi#BUT ALSOOO ALL MY FRIENDS R TAKING HINDI#and my best friend who is one yr above me says its really not that hard#and i will have her help#and all my friends help#but in french i will only have my sister who is in college and has forgotten most of french#and google ofc#ugh
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genuinely how does someone succeed in college when you’re so terrified of being incorrect or looking stupid that you can’t even say anything to begin with???? i was trying to go into this year brave and everything but i’ve already been laughed at multiple times by a class full of people older and scarier than me and i already feel like i’m being judged and underestimated for so many reasons that i don’t want to give anyone another reason to look at me that way. but it’s gotten to the point (in the less than one week that classes have been in session; maybe it’s always been at the point) where i’m failing to submit assignments because i know that my teacher is going to see it and think i’m stupid, and never listen to me again, and i’m going to lose all the credibility that i’m trying so desperately to hold onto. and i know from a logical standpoint that it’s the teacher’s job to meet people where they’re at and lift them up from there, but honestly is that much even true anymore?? isn’t college about figuring out who has what it takes and who is going to get left behind???? why did i enroll in fucking honors classes of course i can’t do this???? i’m really not feeling well and i stayed in tonight and missed dinner and i miss home and i miss being able to talk to my friends and not be actively ruining my future. i feel like i’m always good until i’m not, and i don’t realize i need help until i’m too far in and by the time i get it, i won’t need it anymore but i’ll have ruined everything back when things were worse. i’m isolating from my roommate (who hates me because he thinks i hate him) and losing every friend i’ve started to make at the same time as i’m losing all the real friendships that i already have. and my roommate is across the room right now as i’m quietly fucking crying. and i want to go home and i want to be safe. and why is everything so unfamiliar and simple and wretchedly complicated.
#im really not feeling well. i want to go home and im not used to that at all#i miss my little sister. i miss my teachers and i miss my friends. im not used to this#what prompted all of this: i was trying to do my linguistics homework and i made it about an hour in coming up with faulty hypotheses#and i realized that far of the way through. that the only dialects i’m fucking familiar with are all fucking variations of north central#‘whoa somebody talks similar in anchorage as they do in taylor’s falls?? it must signify a deep linguistic thread traceable over generations#they’re just both right next to fucking canada???? of course they fucking sound similar???? the fact that i don’t know anyone from the east#or the south and even the people i know in the west are still the same fucking thing we all talk the fucking same#i know village english that’s a little fucking interesting but it’s not like i have any INSIGHT i don’t KNOW anything!!!!#told my french teacher i’m learning latin he asked me if it’s fucking ecclesiastical because once you’re in college it’s just normal i guess#i just feel like. yes i’m here because some part of me stood out from my peers. but in this group of special people?? i’m nothing!!!!#so i’m really struggling. and i want a hug and i wish things were different. i want to be here but i don’t feel like i deserve it#and i’m not going to get anything done if i keep feeling like this#i dont know. i hope everyone is doing well. sorry for the extra stress it’s just really difficult and strange#i hope everyone has a good night - i’m heading to bed soon#me. my post. mine.#friends only#vent cw#delete later#and everyone here speaks fcuking MANDARIN or something and all of a sudden my five years of french feels fucking basic.#kids who have been in advanced programs since birth. the imposter syndrome is fucking PALPABLE!!!! i want to go home and i want to forget#okay i’m done. im done!!!! everything is fine. hope everyone is well
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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 10 Things I hate about you ´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Where the plan of 'taming the shrew' commenced. Leo and Charles go around finding you a perfect match for Charles to snoop in on Silena!!!
Warning(s): just swearing
Word Count: 1170
A/N: readers only mentioned in the beginning, just a quick roll over from how the plan started. and silena and Charles should've lived idgaf. anyways idk how to feel about this one but fuck it we ball???
╰➤ MASTERLIST pt1
An abrasive feminist who does nothing but hate on men, that's what you were known for. Silena, a beautiful and kind girl who was adored through out school, that's what she was known for.
No one would've guess you two were sisters.
As you walked out of class, music ripping through your headphones, you found your sister out by the parking lot talking with a guy. Luke Castellan to be exact. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you approached her.
"Yo Silena, time to head home," you crossed your arms as she turned. She knew of your opinion on the single brain-celled men of the town, but she seemed to think the opposite.
"Um, you can go home without me. I have-" she looked back at Luke, flashing a quick smile-, "a ride already."
You rolled your eyes once more, fake gagging as you headed down to your red car. "Whatever."
As you walked off, Charles Beckendorf couldn't keep his eyes off Silena. "She's beautiful."
"Not a chance," Leo said from behind him. "Her dad has a strict rule with no dating. Don't even bother."
"No I need to try. I know I have this."
"Yeah okay, I mean unless you know French your not getting anywhere near her."
"Im a fast learner," Leo couldn't help but laugh at the response.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
As you sat in your car, making your way toward the exit of the parking lot, you saw the most infuriating sight possible. It was your sister riding in that douches convertible. 'Oh what dad would say,' you laughed to yourself.
When you got home, you were sitting in your living room reading a book when your dad walked in with the mail. He saw one with your name on it as your sister walked in late.
"Sarah Lawrence? That's across the country, what happened to staying local?"
"Dad, that's what you decided, this is my dream," your dad turned around, noticing your sisters presence. "Would a certain someone like to announce who drove them home?"
You had a smug smile on your face, though Silena didn't find this so amusing. "Excuse me, what is your sister talking about?"
"Nothing," Silena exclaimed. Your dad gave her the look, the look saying I know you're lying so don't try it. "Luke drove me home."
She groaned and stomped around as your dad continued to drill into your brains how he refused to let you both date till college, absolutely wanting to avoid teen pregnancy.
"The boys here are massive incels who lack the knowledge of a shower, I like being single," you mused.
"God what planet are you even from?"
"Enough, both of you. Sit," your father instructed. "I know you hate the rule so fine, I'll change it. You can date."
Silena started squealing until your dad pointed at you. "When she does."
You snorted as Silena started yelling, "Oh my god, have you met her? She's probably gonna die alone!!"
"Then you'll never date," your dad smiled as he walked off toward his room.
"Can't you just take some tooth-gapped loser on a date so I can go out??"
"Nope," you sang out, popping the p as you walked off toward your room.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
Silena ran into the library where she and Charles met up for their French lesson. "Oh hey, um, Silena."
"Yeah hi. Any chance we can make this quick?"
"Uh yeah, we can just start with some pronunciations, or we can just get some French food and call it a day," Charles chucked, Silena stared narrowed eyed.
"Are you asking me out," Charles started stammering, "It's not like I could even go anyways."
"I thought maybe if you called it French tutoring then-"
"At least not til my sister finds a date, so yeah. Never. Going. Out," she rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"I'm sure it can't be that hard to find her a date."
Silena laughed, "Yeah right. Have you met her? She's impossible."
"I mean there's someone there for everyone, can't be impossible to find her one."
"Are you saying you would?"
"Would what? Find her a date," Silena shook her head aggressively. "I mean, if it means your let out of your prison... I'll do it.. for you."
As she squealed, Charles sat back wondering what the fuck he just agreed to do.
"Dude you're fucked," Leo said as he drank from his juice box. They were sitting in biology together as Charles was starting to freak out. "Why would you promise the impossible??"
"You don't understand. Silena is everything I've ever dreamed of."
"You spoken to her twice."
"Whats your point?"
"My point is we've asked nearly every guy in school, and they all wanna steer clear. You're cooked," Leo went on but Charles wasn't listening. Behind Leo, was a rugged raven-haired boy ripping the frog they were directing in half like it was a rotisserie chicken. He was laughing with his friends, two burly dudes. One looking like the perfect American boy, and the other with a cute baby face.
"I've found our guy," Charles pointed toward him. Leo just raised his brows.
"Dude, that kid literally went missing for like 8 months. Are you sure?"
"Whats his name?"
"Percy Jackson."
"I'm sure. I'm telling you. Got any ideas to convince him?"
"Your not gonna like where I'm going with this."
Leo wouldn't say the plan, so Charles knew it was ridiculous, but it's not like he had another plan. In the cafeteria, Charles watched from a distance as Luke Castellan drew a dick on Leo's face. When he came back, dick still on his face, he said the plans in motion.
"Okay, now will you please explain," Charles asked.
"We're gonna double agent. I convinced Luke to pay Percy into taking your crazy sister-in-law out on dates. While he's busy coughing up payments, you make your move."
"Lets just hope this doesn't backfire."
﹒º. ౨ৎ
The next day Leo made his way over toward Percy and his two other friends. "Hey guys!"
Leo greeted the three as 'baby face' patted his shoulder. "You guys know each other?"
"You know, I'm the one who got my boy here Frank with his girlfriend Hazel," Leo gloated.
"So you are a matchmaker?"
"A matchmaker, not a miracle worker," Leo rolled his eyes.
"Whats up bro?"
"I assumed Luke spoke to you," Percy nodded, clearly confused. "Perfect, we have an idea for you."
"Go on."
"You see my boy here," Leo pointed to Charles. "He'd be a much better option for the 'amazing' Silena. So we need you to make sure Luke can't get his hands on her."
"Dude, I'm getting paid one way or the other, no offense but I can only do so much."
"I'm telling you, stop stressing," the blonde one said. Leo whispered in Charles ear, saying 'thats Jason by the way.'
"Yeah, if you like her, then make it happen," Percy said as he walked off.
"God this is stressful," Charles groaned.
#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#percy jackson pjo#percy pjo#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x you#silena pjo#silena beauregard#Charles pjo#charles beckendorf#charlena
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Round 5 - Catholic Character Tournament
Propaganda below ⬇️
Sister Michael
She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.
joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?
she does love a good statue it has to be said
She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3
sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.
Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler Propaganda:
good lord where do i start. in the animated series he converts logan to catholisism and then fucks off basically thats the main thing he did there. i think one time they tried to make him a demon to explain how he looked but everyone hated that. he sold his soul one time to help his friends out after he died. he and logan have a weird little gay thing. he was a priest one time but he was made a priest by a fake bishop from a religion that hates mutants iirc so he just wasnt a priest. like 3 people have written him in a way i like and one of those is my friend just talking about how they view him.
wow marvel loves making catholic characters dress/look like demons
Kurt is a mutant who was born to mystique who looks a LOT like a devil (technically is half one but that cannon truth isn’t real go back to bed), his mother dropped him off a cliff when he was born and he was picked up by a Romani group/circus (fuck old comics man) however he then narrowly escaped being sold to a freak show and found himself in a small German town. There he met a kind priest, who showed him God, and he quickly grew attached to the idea- However, it wasn’t long before people began labeling him a demon and soon the whole town was against him with pitchforks and fire. Cornered and injured, Kurt thought this might be the end for him- maybe he would see heaven so long after finding it- but he was then saved by Charles Xavier who invited him to the X-Men. AND ITS BEEN SO MANY YEARS AND HE HAS BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH THERE. SO MUCH. SO GOD DAMN MUCH. BUT THE MOST AAAA THING TO ME CONCERNING HIS FAITH HE WHEN HE LITERALLY DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN BUT THEN BECAUSE OF DRAMA WITH HIS FATHER HAD TO BRING HIS FRIENDS IN WITH HIM FROM THE BEYOND. THEN WITH ALOT OF TROUBLE THEY FOUGHT HIS FATHER AND THE ONLY WAY KURT SAW TO STOP HIM WAS IN A MOVE THAT STRIPPED THEM BOTH OF THEIR SOULS AND PUT THEM BACK ON EARTH. SO KURT CANONICALLY HAS NOW LOST HIS ABILITY FOR ETERNAL PEACE, LOST HIS VERY SOUL, TO SAVE PEOPLE- AND ALSO TOLD NO ONE NOT EVEN HIS GAY LOVER WOLVERINE.
Nightcrawler is a mutant vigilante who looks like a classical demon. He can’t even go to church without people panicking and trying to exorcize him. Despite it all, he’s so full of faith and hope and compassion, and he wants to believe the best of everyone. Also, he’s bffs with an extremely angry Jewish sword lesbian. That has nothing to do with anything, but it’s important to me that you all know that.
What if you were a devout christian and literally looked like the devil? He nearly became the pope, which was a plot by some supervillains that also involved faking a rapture? There is nothing like comics I swear to god.
A catholic who is half demon I don’t think I can better explain a struggle than that. But his character is so relatable to people who feel unwelcome with their congregation because of something that is a part of them but still feeling a connection to the faith. Kurt actively engaged in his faith and shares how his faith helps him through all the things he has faced in life and how he found a home with those of the church who leave the judging to God.
so they made kurt a priest briefly before deciding to retcon it, resulting in nightcrawler actually being part of a plan by villains to promote him to pope then reveal to the world that the pope is a demon. wild.
I have a side blog and a tattoo about him and i really really want him to win
Wisecracking devil-appearing devout Catholic with the Best superpower (teleportation)? HECK YES
German Catholic circus acrobat who looks like a demon & can teleport through a hellish alternate dimension with a puff of sulfur. Character of all time.
hes catholic and his dad is the devil. what could be funnier than that. also hes my silly little guy.
Nightcrawler is the world’s most fun catholic priest. I first was introduced to this kindhearted teleporting acrobat while he saved a boat full of stowaway refugees from inter dimensional pirates with swashbuckling gusto!
#cct polls#tumblr tournament#tumblr bracket#tumblr polls#polls#kurt wagner#x men#nightcrawler#marvel#xmen#x men comics#marvel x men#r5#the derry girls#derry girls#sister michael
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connie's sister's got it goin' on
jean thought his friends were bluffing when they told him connie's sister was the shit.
warnings : slight suggestive, eren and armin are pervs, jean speaks a lil french, not proofread
part two
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driving in the rain sucked ass.
connie had conviced jean to go out with him to a few places that still made his head spin when he tried to think about it.
of course, connie was like this kid that was never allowed outside of his yard.
anything fun? yeah of course the homies gotta go with him.
sadly, eren was too busy catching up with college work, and armin had tutoring on saturdays.
sasha has a boyfriend, and mikasa is practically obsessed with her girlfriend.
the only person that was free was jean, who never minded going out with connie.
safe to say, it was never boring.
but of course, connie's unprepared ass never checked to see how the weather would be when planning to spend the day outside.
so they were driving back to connie's in the middle of what seemed to be the beginning of a thunderstorm.
"mother nature needa close her legs." connie grumbled, watching the road like the passenger princess he was.
jean rolled his eyes in return. before he could get his word out, lighting struck loudly.
ooo mother nature didn't like connie for that statement he made. it rained harder, if even possible.
jean was able to get them both to connie's house safely, parking outside due to connie and a few other family member's cars parked in the garage.
yeah.. connie had a big family.
in the home was connie, his parents, his younger sister, three younger brothers, and his older sister.
the older sister was rarely at the house though, having a job and her own place in another state.
but with their parents away on their anniversary, someone had to watch the kids.
and connie really isn't that reliable. the poor kids wouldn't even step foot out of the house for school or eat anything other than junk food.
so his older sister decided to come down and help out.
"i hope you don't plan on going home in this weather." connie said, turning to jean with a light frown.
once again, before jean could respond, something had interrupted him.
this time, it was connie, taking the keys of of the ignition and dashing onto the porch, hood over his head in a jiffy.
jean groaned in annoyance before following suit.
"you didn't have to do all of that." jean complained immediately when he made it to the porch.
connie mocked the boy beside him, unlocking the door and holding it open for jean in a cheesy smile.
"i'm home! what's that smell?!" connie yelled over the tv, his three younger brothers playing the game loudly.
jean heard loud footsteps, but didn't pick up his heaad while he balanced on connie to take his shoes off.
"it's actual cooked fuckin food- jesus connie i thought i told you to tell me if you were bringing guests!" jean heard an unfamiliar voice yell from the stairs.
jean looked up and goodness..
the sight before him was gorgeous.
there you stood, wearing a white t-shirt that barely even left your hips.
you were filled out in all of the best ways, a mean scowl on your face directed towards the man beside him.
all jean could think about was 'if you could see it from the front...'
what snapped him out of his thoughts was your eyes on him as you cleared your throat.
jean muttered a small sorry and turned around, giving some privacy at least.
"wouldn't have to if you'd wear some goddamn clothes." connie shot back, rolling his eyes with an exasperated groan.
"i'm sorry you still haven't fixed the fan in the kitchen so i sweat fucking bullets when i have to cook." you scoffed, walking back upstairs.
jean turned around when he heard you were halfway up the stairs.
and goodness was that ass fat-
"okay jean. you can use the bathroom near my room to shower and shit. i'm gonna use my sisters." connie said, gesturing to upstairs.
jean nodded, swallowing lightly and making his way upstairs.
he walked into the bathroom near connie's room like he was told to, and immediately called the boys group chat after he'd shut the door.
that definitely didn't include connie.
it was a conversation made when tey were planning a surprise party for connie, and never ended up deleting it.
it's only really used to play imessage games now though.
eren and armin immediately answered, confused as to why this chat was being called.
"bro y'all are fake." jean whispered harshly, glaring at the phone.
"what'd i do this time? the aloe vera was mika's idea." eren complained, rolling his eyes while propping his phone up.
jean disregarded what was said.
eren's hair was down and he was shirtless, some comic book in his hand.
armin looked like he had just gotten back from his tutoring session.
his bag was in hand and his phone wasn't showing his face like it always was.
"why didn't either of you tell me his sister was like that?!" jean exclaimed quietly, raising his eye brow.
eren bursted into laughter, making armin follow along and pause in his steps through his house.
jean cursed quietly, turning his volume down to hide their ill jokes and laughter.
"aye! tell mama if she done fuckin that lawyer she with, i got a big one waiting in my lap!" armin joked, grinning at the camera.
"let her know papi extraña ese lindo coño!" eren said, pressing his tongue between his index and middle fingers teasingly.
jean rolled his eyes, ignoring his friends whistles and moans.
a few knocks at the door got jean's attention, making him pale.
"please don't let anyone hear them." jean begged under his breath, before getting ready to hang up.
eren and armin noticed, and laughed at him and his predicament.
"remember! tell her it cures to the right! presses right on that g-spot!" "she could wear whatever she want, i can fight and my name is moanable! i'll fight that man for her too!"
jean hung up quickly, opening the door.
to his luck, you were standing at the door holding a fluffy pink towel and some clothes.
"hey. jean right? connie said to bring you some clothes. sadly, i could only find this towel." you explained, gesturing to what's in your hand.
jean swallowed before nodding, taking the pile of stuff from you.
"thanks." he said quickly, before taking the pile of stuff from you.
he decided on getting in the shower and trying to take his mind off you before he had a.. problem.
~
when jean came out of the shower, he made a beeline straight for connie's room.
he felt like he might die if he seen you immediately after his shower.
luckily, connie was in there with a blunt in his mouth and the video game already on.
"took you long enough." connie mumbled, still holding onto the spliff.
jean rolled his eyes and took a seat on the bed, kicking his legs up and getting comfortable.
connie took another look at jean and chuckled. "you look like you got a compression shirt on." connie teased.
jean flipped him off, swiping open his phone and opening a random game.
connie began playing music, the tunes blasting out of the sound system he and eren hooked up to his tv a year back.
before he could get any further into the song, his door was thrown open and in came his older sister.
"if you're gonna play music, play something good at least." you said, nearly shouting over the music.
jean quickly grabbed the remote and muted the speaker to clearly hear you speak.
you were wearing some pants now, though it didn't really do you any justice.
they were riding up your thighs, cupped right under your butt.
jean had to force himself to look away.
thankfully, connie had begun speaking to you to catch his attention.
"get out of my room! and put some proper fuckin' pants on. you look like a slut." connie complained immediately.
you rolled his eyes and flipped him off immediately.
"dinner will be ready in five, do not light that in here." you warned, picking up his nike slides and tossing them at him.
before he could throw them right back, you walked out and slammed the door hard.
so hard, the hoop behind it fell off.
connie groaned in annoyance, complaining about how he had just fixed the shit and now it's broken again.
the man stood up, stretched his limbs out, and looked towards jean.
"let's go smoke this before we eat." connie said, walking out to the balcony attached to his room.
jean followed him, happy for the roof his parents had built in for them.
by them he meant connie and, well, you.
they had the biggest rooms with a balcony attached to both.
connie sat on one of the chairs and jean sat across from him, leaning back as he watched his friend light the spliff.
"this is the first time you've hung out with me in a hot minute, jeanboy." connie stated, taking a pull.
jean chuckled, kicking his legs up on the extended couch. "yeah well, you know i'm always buried in work." jean replied.
connie nodded, handing the spliff over to jean after taking two more pulls.
jean ashed it a bit, but before he could pull it to his mouth, it was snatched out of his hand.
he looked up and seen you, spliff tucked between your plump lips.
"you're in my spot, jeanboy." you teased, taking a seat beside him.
connie rolled his eyes, though he half expected you to find your way out on the balcony for the spliff he rolled.
because if there was anything connie was good at, it was rolling.
never too thick, never too skinny. just right and good enough to get you high.
you took a pull, blowing the smoke out of your nose with a long sigh.
"haven't smoked in so long." you chuckled, leaning back and closing your eyes.
"what happened to that lawyer you were with? daddy let's you smoke now?" connie snorted, looking at you from the corner of your eye.
you put your middle finger up, choosing you ignore his comment and hand the spliff back over to jean.
he took a pull, face turning a bit red after a slight realization.
your gloss hand stained the brown paper a faded pink.
he tries to ignore it, blowing the smoke out of his mouth and handing it back to connie.
"you connie's new friend? never seen you before." you questioned, leaning back onto the seat.
jean shook his head, taking another pull. "m'actually one of his longest friends. just real busy." jean said in return.
you nodded, raising your eyebrows lightly and looking at connie.
"ya hear that? i actually have friends." connie teasing, shooting you a lazy grin.
"mhm. he's probably staying for the weed." you shot back, gratefully taking the blunt from him.
jean choked lightly, chuckling at the bewildered face connie had immediately made.
"i'll have you know i made him some mean friendship bracelets when we were in middle school." connie scoffed, sitting up from his seat.
you rolled your eyes and mocked connie under your breath, before handing the spliff to him.
"what's your major, jeanboy?" you asked, turning your attention back to the man next to you.
jean raised his eyes to look at you, before leaning back.
"i'm majoring in fine arts." jean replied, looking up at the dangling stars on the roof.
you must've hung them up there when you were younger.
jean heard you coo lightly, turning his attention right back over to you.
you were pretending to pose a bit, smiling. "draw me like one of your french girls." you joked.
jean has heard that line so many times from other girls that tried to hit on him, but for some reason?
when it came from your mouth, he seriously wanted to draw you.
he laughed lightly, rolling his eyes and looking back at the ceiling.
"alright. i gotta piss. don't fuck my sister, jeanboy." connie teased, handing you the roach he left behind to toss out.
no promises.
you flipped him off again, before placing the roach in the tray.
it grew silent between the two of you, not exactly knowing what to say to each other.
"you don't speak spanish, right?" you questioned, looking at jean.
jean shook his head. "french, actually." he informed, not taking his eyes off the ceiling.
you sat up with a start, a smile adorning your face.
"seriously?" you exclaimed, face lighting up like a kid on christmas.
he could feel you scanning his face, and confirming his statement on your own.
his jawline, his nose, his eyes. if he wasn't completely french, some part of him definitely was.
"then you'll seriously have to draw me." you chuckled, relaxing back into your seat.
"are you fluent?" you questioned once more, leaning your head onto the back of the seat.
jean nodded, sitting up to face you. he had a question in mind.
"say some thing." you demanded lightly, nudging him with your arm.
jean inhaled, thinking about what he wanted to say.
then, it was almost as if a lightbulb appeared atop his head.
"je voudrais dormir avec toi." jean said with a smirk, looking you in your eyes.
his accent was heavy, which just made you even more interested in what he just said.
"what does that mean?" you asked, shifting closer to him with a small smile on your face.
jean put his finger to his lips, deeming his words a secret.
he just knew connie would kill him if he found out what he said to his sister.
"since you've asked so much of me, how about i ask something in return?" jean suggested.
you nodded, agreeing to answer any question he had.
"what did happen with you and that lawyer guy?" he questioned, looking at you.
you sighed, leaning back into the seat.
it grew quiet once more. you were hesitating to answer his question.
maybe he should've kept his curiosity to himself.
before he could take it back though, you spoke. "ah. i dumped him. much too controlling. don't tell con?" you smiled.
he knew what you were talking about.
connie goes hard for his family. it was obvious when he told his little sister's bully to 'get yo bumass brother' and beat the shit out of him.
imagine what he and his friends would to do the guy if he found out what he did to his sister.
"but that's good. means you can really draw me like rose when connie's asleep." you whispered in his ear, running his hand over your waist.
jean swallowed thickly, feeling you lean into him. "you know where my room is." you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jawline.
he never responded, only watching as you walked into your room.
jean was so bragging about this to eren and armin.
but only after he comes out of your room later tonight. he'll need the proof.
je voudrais dormir avec toi -> i would like to sleep with you
#jean kirschstein#jean kirschtien#jean kirestein#jean kirstein#jean kirstein fanfiction#jean kirstein x reader#jean x reader#jean x y/n#connie aot#connie springer#jean aot#aot fanfiction#aot fluff#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan
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Hii hope everything is going well. I have a recent apetite for a fanfic where stiles is best friends with cora or a sister or brother of derek and derek is the best friends older brother and stiles has a crush and all maybe. Happy ending pretty please.
Sure!
Ecstasy by allfandoms93 | 11.3K | Explicit
Derek moves home after college in New York not expecting an instant connection to Cora's best friend, Stiles.
Crush by madsmeetsmisha | 16.3K | Explicit
What if Stiles had a little crush on Cora's brother Derek? What if he was always making a fool out of himself when the attractive werewolf was around? And what if Stiles tried his best to avoid him but Derek was suddenly everywhere...
^^^^ These were suggested additions. Thank you!! ❤️
Dude, Werewolves by mysecretashes | 29.6K
Stiles gets partnered with Cora for a history project, and they become bros. Also, he kind of falls in love with her older brother, Derek.
French Silk Pie, Baby | 2.6K
“See, your angel of a sister - ” Derek scoffs. Cora hasn’t been an angel since she was five months old. “ - agreed to date me, because my visa is about to expire and - ”
“I’d have to marry you for that, dumbass,” Cora butts in, rolling her eyes.
Dirty Little Secret by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 91K | Explicit
“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.
Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.
“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”
Flowerwolf & Beacon Roots by alisvolatpropiis | 5.2K | Explicit
Derek tries not to show his surprise, curiously hopeful, but still suspicious of Laura’s involvement. “Oh. How do you know my coffee order then?”
He grins. “The cute baristo knows your order, dude. All I had to do was ask for Grumpy Flower Guy’s usual.”
Derek huffs. “I’m not grumpy.”
“He says grumpily,” Stiles smirks, winking.
Putting the F-U-N in Funeral by apocryphal | 10.8K
In which Derek is a bored secretary, Stiles is a baker who may or may not have ulterior motives, and there are entirely too many macaroons.
hey asshole by everchanginginks | 15.6K | Mature
The Hales moved in next door more than a year ago and while Cora and Stiles became fast friends, Stiles has yet to meet his best friend’s big brother, Derek, who’s been attending college in New York. When Derek comes home for the summer he makes less than a stellar impression. And vice versa.
Date me or my brother by Hepzheba | 2.5K
Derek is straight and his usual grumpy self, Derek also has a twin who is Gay and a complete Player. Somehow, Derek finds himself filling in for his Twin because the Player has double booked himself on the dating seen. Enter Stiles… Maybe Derek’s not so straight.
The Wonderful Mess We Made by haleonwheels | 34.6K | Explicit
Derek is Scott's rude older brother. Scott is Stiles' new best friend. Stiles is in a really hard situation (in more ways than one).
Or the one where Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills from New York City and immediately befriends Scott McHale. Scott tells Stiles he's an only child--except he really, really isn't. So how was Stiles supposed to know Derek From The Jungle is actually Derek McHale, Scott's older brother that he kept secret for a reason?
Permanent Fixture by linksofmemories_archive | 80.7K | Explicit
Derek is Scott's older brother. Stiles is Scott's best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.
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Y'ALLL!!! when people say that self concept is key they mean: IT. IS. THE. KEY!
here's my success story from focusing on my self concept for a week! just a single week, i am in tears!!
so before, i used to brush off self concept and think that i'll work on it/get a got sc when i get my other desires, which is all wrong. i am so thankful that i let go of the old story, i used to limit myself and wasn't even aware. self concept can easily show you all your desires in the 3d, and then some!! the realisation made my life a 1000x easier.
then i read some posts and success stories that came about all thanks to self concept and i said to myself: that can be me, it is time to stop perceiving myself as a victim/bad manifestor, and i should just start focusing on my self concept! it is time to change the story.
so i started vaunting and ranting and affirming how my self concept is amazing, through the roof, wonderful, perfect, never fails me... you get the story. i didn't even visualize, didn't go into the void, didn't script. i was vaunting in front of the mirror, looking at myself and sometimes pretending i was talking to someone. i repeated that for a week, and almost every day i got some of my desires !!!
now, onto what i manifested:
1. An adorable kitten! my parents never would have gotten me a cat, no matter how much i asked them to, so i just relaxed myself and stepped into the mindset that no matter what anyone in my reality does or says, my desires are here and nothing can stop them. on the second day of the week, my parents asked me if i wanted a cat because my grandparents' cat just gave birth to three cutest kittens.
2. Perfect vision! i am someone who has been wearing glasses my entire life, my sight was deteriorated at birth due to some complications during labor, and my optician told me some years ago that there was no chance for me to be fully recovered (i had a couple of surgeries so far, and constant check-ups, it was so nagging and uncomfortable). she also told me a month ago that i should not use my phone, but nothing can stand between me and my screen time so i just decided to manifest my bad eyesight away! and i did it, but it's weird without my glasses lmao.
3. A new friend group! my old friends were closed-minded people, i am talking unsuportive, bashing on other people, but 'kind' only to others in the friend group, full of negativity and hate. i just needed a fresh friend group, so i manifested one! one of my friends now goes to the same uni as me, we start in october and it's so exciting heheh
4. Fluent in French language! i just wanted to be fluent in a language that wasn't my first language or english, and i had been studying french in elementary school so that seemed like the best option for me.
5. Money! i manifested the amount of my scholarship to double in my bank account and for no one to bat an eye at that, and for a certain amount of money to appear in my wallet daily (yes, spawning thing is so simple with the right mindset!!!), and for my parents to be rich because they deserve it.
6. A perfect dorm room! the dorm rooms my sister had been living in were just not it, so i needed to take thing in my own hands and manifest a two-bed bedroom with it's own bathroom (no communal bathrooms for me pls) in a dorm not far away from college which i share with another friend.
7. Desired body! my figure now is slim, i have 6-line abs odbwkdbajwhj i could only dream of that a month ago, everything on this list makes me so happy!! i went shopping with my mom yesterday and every pair of heans i tried actually fit me which is a big deal for me lol
8. Lenient parents! as i mentioned, my parents were not the ones to let me get a pet, and they also were very strict with my school grades in the past, and with my going out and hanging out with friends. but now, i have a great relationship with them, they are relaxed and they don't forbid me from doing anything (i literally am going on a staycation with a friend this weekend).
9. New clothes! yesterday during shopping, i found so many amazing sweatshirts, even one that is croptopped which i never used to wear, but got the courage to because who else would wear it if not a bad bitch?? i got a denim jacket, some jeans, sneakers... all i need at a discount!!
self concept makes life easy!! asf!! just stay focused on your new reality and there is nothing you can't get! have fun manifesting, and thank you cinefairy for opening my eyes <333
LETS GOOOOO THIS IS SO AMAZING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ SO PROUD OF YOU ANON WOOW. all these achievements just from affirming how amazing you are.
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I’d Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) CH4
AO3 Link / One / Prev / Next / Masterlist
summary:
Danny Fenton was adopted at age ten, with little to no memories about his former family. At age fourteen, he died yet lived and those memories began to return. He didn’t do anything about those memories – didn’t plan to, at least not yet – but then he got captured by the GIW, saved by his friends and someone who might be his sister who he only somewhat remembered, and taken to Gotham to, apparently, his biological father for safety until further notice.
Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.
a/n:
i am so sorry for such the long wait!! but here’s ch4 finally lmao hope you guys enjoy :)
warnings for entire fic:
canon-typical violence of the DC variety; angst; memory loss/repressed memories; do i need to say major character death(s) or is that just a given for this fandom; questionable parenting tho every parent is trying to do good & care for the kids; implied/referenced past child abuse bc of the child assassin backgrounds; pls tell me if i missed something
CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: Alfred tells Bruce of Danny’s injuries, but nothing in explicit detail
CHAPTER FOUR —
Tonight did not go the way Bruce thought it would.
The day started out peaceful enough. For his family, that was. Tim had stayed the night after patrol rather than heading back to his place in the city, so he and Damian, both half asleep still, had gotten into a snarky quarrel about cereal bowls, of all things. Apparently there was favorite bowl; it was the perfect size and depth. Damian woke up first, grabbed it, and Tim became grouchy when he discovered that.
Bruce had then taken the bowl away when they wouldn’t stop arguing about it, handed it to Duke who had entered the kitchen at that exact moment, and continued on to get a plate of French toast that Alfred had made and a large mug of coffee. He dutifully ignored his sons’ complaints while his other son just went along with what had just happened.
Then Alfred took Duke and Damian to school, Stephanie appeared out of nowhere to drag Tim into helping her study for college finals that were coming up, and Cass regularly sent him pictures of Hong Kong as a means to let him know every thing was going smoothly for the case that had lead her back over there. Bruce called Dick during his lunch hour at WE, tried to get out of an afternoon meeting only for Lucious and Tim (who was now only a partial shareholder instead of the majority shareholder, since that went back to Bruce) to drag him to it anyway, and told Jason that he might have found something to aid him in one of his cases through e-mail because, once again, Jason had blocked his number.
Bruce had no idea what warranted it this time, and he was hesitant to ask.
All in all, it was a normal day. He might even describe it as a good day. So, of course, he expected patrol to be hell. Maybe a breakout of some sort; an intense hostage situation; one of his children getting majorly injured again; a near death experience or two. Possibly more than one of those, or even all of them. That was what Bruce Wayne – Batman – expected.
Not this.
Not Damian having two secret, older, biological siblings.
Not a group of kids in their late teens obviously on the run, brave faced but scared.
Not a daughter finding him on a random roof on the verge of a panic attack, brave façade crumbling with the fear her brothers weren’t okay.
Not a son no older than eighteen having been vivisected by someone Bruce has yet to find out, and warranting Alfred to perform emergency surgery on him.
After Damian, Bruce swore he was done. No more kids for him; the children and pseudo-children he had were enough. The amount of love he had for them was immeasurable, and with them – because of them – Bruce had a mountain of happiness in his life among all the other shitty and dark valleys of depression and torment.
Now he’s learned Talia had lied yet again.
First, about having a miscarriage back when she had been pregnant with Damian. Second, about how before that, from their first meeting five years prior, she already had twins.
His twins.
Damian had also lied, yet he had been told to do so and promised to by his older sister herself. And he had no idea why.
It occurred to him, then, that Jason knew as well. He recognized Damian’s sister on the roof.
It hurt to know that they knew yet didn’t tell him. Everything about the current situation hurt, if he was to be honest.
“My name is Athanasia al Ghul,” Bruce’s daughter, introduced herself as he helped clean, re-bandage, and stitch her injuries. “My twin– our brother… He was born Dányál al Ghul, but he got adopted when he was ten. Legally, his name is now Daniel Fenton. He goes by Danny most of the time.”
It was surreal. Bruce had to keep himself from questioning her until he got answers – about her, Danny, why Talia never mentioned either of them, why Athanasia told Damian to keep them a secret, what and who they were running from and why, and tens of others. It wasn’t hard to do, but the urge was still there.
Making sure his daughter (he had another daughter) got some much needed medical attention took precedence over that.
For now, he would merely let her speak to him on her own terms.
“Do you have a preferred name you go by?” Bruce asked, because his eldest went by ‘Dick’ and Tim hated it when ‘Timothy’ was used and Steph only let ‘Stephanie’ slide if the person was a stranger and Cass didn’t care one way or another, but she did seem to like when the family used the shortened version of her name more. If Athanasia wanted a specific name or nickname used, he planned to use it.
“My brothers called me ‘Ana’ sometimes,” she said. “Hardly anyone else calls me that, but I won’t mind you do, too.”
Bruce nodded and smiled. He finished bandaging the newly stitched up cut on her thigh as he said, “I will be sure to remember that, then.”
“I still will if you want me to,” Damian spoke up immediately from the other cot he sat on. His foot was propped up and an ice pack laid on his ankle, curtesy of Duke who had brought it over a few minutes ago; he seemed to want to stay, but got dragged away by Jason almost immediately.
What his youngest said took Bruce by surprise. Damian wasn’t the type to use nicknames or shortened versions of names; the exceptions were probably Jon Kent and Maps Mizoguchi. And, now, apparently the twins.
And he offered to.
One corner of her mouth twitched up before she smothered it, going for a neutral expression. Bruce still saw something akin to happiness and relief in her eyes as she nodded. “I wouldn’t mind that at all,” she said, “As long as I can still call you ‘Dames’.”
Damian pressed his lips into a thin line to lessen the size of his smile that he then twisted in a faux frown of annoyance. “If you must.”
Bruce refrained from reacting to that. He knew that Tim tried to call Damian that once, and his youngest son had a very sudden, negative reaction to it. Tim went to Bruce later that day, guilty and frustrated, because he didn’t mean to upset Damian and now they were at odds again; Bruce only got the story out after a spar.
It certainly made some sense now, why he had reacted like that. And also why he was more tolerant of ‘Dami’ than everyone thought he would originally be, back when Dick first started using it.
…A lot of things about Damian made sense now.
Bruce wondered often about how Damian, an apparent only child, grew accustomed to older brothers and a sister rather seamlessly. Well, after he stopped attempting to murder Tim, of course; and after he stopped insisting that he didn’t have siblings, that he was the only blood son and therefore superior than the others.
(He still occasionally pulled the blood son card. More so now to annoy the others, than anything.)
He grew accustomed seamlessly to the others because of Athanasia and Danny. He had always been the youngest. He was used to nagging, protective, annoying older siblings already.
It made Bruce emotional in so many ways.
The next fifteen minutes or so were spent in silence as Bruce finished tending to Athanasia’s wounds. When he got done, he stepped back to give her space as he picked up everything he had used.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked her.
“No,” she said. Athanasia almost sounded confused on why he asked, and Bruce sincerely hoped he imagined it. No one of any age should be confused when asked that. “Thank you, Batman.”
“Of course.”
Footsteps, hesitant and soft, grew close, catching their attentions. The redhead, Wesley ‘Wes’ Weston as he introduced himself as earlier, stopped a few feet away. His posture and the way his hands sat in his pockets said casual, but his muscles were tense and his expression held exhaustion.
“Wesley,” Athanasia said as a greeting.
Wes half smiled. “Hey.”
Bruce frowned a little. “Is everything okay?”
The teenager nodded. “Oh, yeah. Um, the others just want to talk about something as a whole. I came to get Ana.”
Bruce saw Damian straighten just the tiniest bit in his peripheral.
Athanasia began to get out of the cot, but Bruce held out a hand. She froze, so he kept his hand in the air rather than placing it on her shoulder like he was about to. Then, lowered it.
“You need rest. I’m sure the conversation can wait,” Bruce said to them.
Wes shook his head. “It can’t. It’s important.”
“Talking does not require extensive body movement,” Athanasia said. “And I’m sure Wesley is right about the importance. I can rest later.”
“You need rest now.”
Athanasia stared him dead in the eye and got out. She stood in front him, back straight and no sign of discomfort or pain.
She was tall for a girl, he noticed for a second time that night. Maybe a bit taller than Tim, if not the same height, but still shorter than Dick. The way she stood reminded him a lot of Talia, but that defiant look was something Damian definitely learned from her at a young age.
“I’m eighteen – an adult,” she spoke in Arabic, and that fact made his heart hurt. “I know my own limits by now. I will rest later.”
She then pivoted on her feet and walked off. As she passed Wes, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to drag him along. Other than a slight noise of surprise at being forcibly turned around in the opposite direction, the boy didn’t seem that fazed.
Bruce’s eyes narrowed behind the cowl at him as Wesley casually grabbed Athanasia’s hand to remove her grip. Her fingers twitched, almost holding his hand instead, before she pulled away and quickened her pace.
‘Acquaintances’ she said.
Damian huffed. “I don’t like him.”
“Hn.”
Alfred stepped halfway out of the curtained off area and requested his presence. A surge of panic washed over him and he walked over, telling Damian to stay put. Whatever Alfred needed, he hoped it was better than all the negative thoughts now plaguing his mind.
+++
Athanasia ached – for multiple reasons.
The soreness and pain was finally, truly settling in post-fight. With the adrenaline gone, and now able to relax with Danny being taken care of, she was way more aware of what hurt and what didn’t, except for the number areas where Batman had to do stitches. She probably should have asked for Tylenol or Ibuprofen. She didn’t.
Then, there was Damian. Her baby brother. She said that he was still short earlier, and he was, but he had also grown so much. Watching him from afar when she visited Gotham kept that fact from settling in until now.
He wasn’t the tiny, baby faced nine year old anymore. His hair used to be medium brown and wavy, but over the past few years it’s gotten a few shades darker and now the strands curled like her own. His limbs were lanky as he began to enter his teenage years, the baby fat was disappearing, and he was much taller than a nine year old. He stood and had the mannerisms and forming attitude of any other 13 year old.
Dányál was whole entirely different type of ache from realizing Damian had grown and the pain of her injuries. It was tangled up in anger and fear. At the GIW and Ra’s, and what they did to him.
She almost felt ten again, following the servant in the shadows to the Lazarus Pits. Except this time, there were no pools of bright green liquid to heal him to assure survival. Just the talented Penny-One, Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of Wayne Manor and doctor of the Batcave and a pseudo grandfather to many.
And her father… He was kind and gentle in a way she hadn’t expected. Yes, Jason said he was a good man, but she honestly never was able to picture it. Batman? The man who took down criminals nightly? Gentle? It was jarring, but not completely unwelcome.
It hurt knowing he was like that, and Mother kept them at the League of Assassins. It hurt that she now knew Jason spoke the truth, and Mother knew too, and even after Ra’s ran a sword through her son’s chest, she still kept them there. That she didn’t have her servant take her and Damian, too, and rather acted as if Dányál had truly died.
It hurt because she still didn’t believe it. Obviously he trained with the other members of the family, but all Athanasia was able to picture were the training tactics and punishments of the League. Batman trained with them, years ago, after all. Who’s to say he didn’t use the same ones on his kids?
And then there was Wesley. No one knew about Wesley. Not even the rest of Team Phantom. She even kept herself from thinking about it until the mission of finding and saving her brother was done.
Manson and Foley were the first members of the team she’d met – technically. Wesley Weston wasn’t a member when she first visited Amity Park and met him. They grew close; then Athanasia panicked and ran away left town, only to come back when the GIW took over. She felt bad for leaving him, truly, and she didn’t understand why he didn’t seem to be as angry as she thought he’d be.
There were so many aching emotions within her. It was almost overwhelming. Athanasia wanted to rest; she knew her father was right that she needed to. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Gray and Wesley needed to get back to Amity Park to get Ellie, and then figure out a way to get to Jazz Fenton, or at least somehow inform her of everything that happened.
They needed to figure out what, exactly, they were going to tell Batman about Dányál and literally everything else.
Athanasia sat down where the others had gathered – far enough away so they wouldn’t be heard, but still seen – and made short eye contact with Wesley when he sat in the only free spot beside her. They both looked away at the same time.
Gray and Manson had their own share of fresh bandages, but hardly the amount Athanasia had. Foley had one. A lucky shuriken cut his bicep and an ectoblast singed the bottom hem of his shirt, but other than that he was fine yet exhausted. Wesley was the only one injury free.
A pack of water bottles sat on the edge of the table. Everyone already had one when she got to the table. Foley was the closest to the pack, and he took one out and rolled it over to her without a word. There was a bottle of migraine medicine by Manson’s elbow where she was laying her head down.
“So,” Gray began to start the conversation. “Batman. I thought you were taking us to your dad?”
“I was, but I knew he would bring us to Batman anyway, so when I spotted him I decided to cut out the middle man.”
“Are you sure we can trust him?” asked Foley.
Athanasia nodded. “As a member of the Justice League, I fully believe Batman is trustworthy.”
“Exactly,” he sighed. “He’s a JL member – a founding member. In hindsight, it’s a good thing they have never visited Amity because that would risk any of them getting possessed, but not one member has checked on our town.”
“Well, actually,” interrupted Gray, “there was that British dude in a trench coat, remember? He smoked a lot. I think he mentioned a…Justice League Dark, or something? It was two or so years ago, so I’m not really sure.”
“Oh him!” Foley started laughing. “Oh, Ancients, how did I forget? Danny scared the shit out of him!”
Manson didn’t move, but she did snort amusedly. “That was hilarious.”
“So… What are we telling Batman?” Wesley asked when the laughter died down.
“Not everything,” said Manson. She finally lifted her head, and placed her hands around her eyes to block out some of the light. “For one, we need to figure out if he knows of the Anti-Ecto Act. We need to explain what’s happening in Amity Park, too. As for everything else… Danny should be the one to explain his powers and everything. Not even Athanasia knows it all.”
It was true. It annoyed her. She knew he had to have gotten the powers somehow, but Danny’s friends were tight lipped about it. All she knew was that Danny had ghost-like abilities, could change his looks, and also had whatever an ‘ice core’ was. She shouldn’t know about that last one, but she overheard Foley and Manson talking one night.
By eavesdropping she had hoped things would begin to make sense regarding her twin’s powers. Rather, it did the exact opposite.
“Batman will dig for answers,” Athanasia warned them. “He’s a detective – a good one, possibly the best in the world.”
Manson frowned.
“Then we give him enough info to keep him happy until Danny wakes up,” Foley said. “Then, he can make the decision on telling Batman everything else.”
“What about the others?” asked Gray. She looked at Athanasia. “Batman, sure. But does that include Robin? I saw you with them both earlier.”
“Robin is as trustworthy as Batman. All of the Bats and Birds in Gotham are, including Nightwing in Blüdhaven.”
“You sound so sure for someone who doesn’t know them personally,” Manson said.
Athanasia raised an eyebrow. “I never said I didn’t.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You never said you did, either.”
“Sam has a point,” Foley said.
“About what?”
“You never said if you did or didn’t know these vigilantes personally. You said you were taking us to your dad, and we’re here instead.”
Athanasia’s brows knitted together. “I said my father would have brought us to him, anyway. Why does that matter?”
“Because you said nothing about him in the first place.”
“Why does that matter?” she repeated. “Where do you think we would end up taking Dányál? Certainly not Arkham.”
“I don’t know, but it would be nice if you told us things,” he said, tone turning frustrated. “Like, who was the old dude you wanted to avoid?”
“That isn’t important right now,” she forced out. She knew she had to tell them about Ra’s, but she planned to do that later.
Manson scoffed as Wesley hesitantly said, “Well, no. It kinda is.”
“You mood completely changed when Tucker mentioned him on comms,” Gray said.
Athanasia drew in a deep breath through her nose. “That is not,” she spoke slow and low, “important right now.”
“Like hell–” Gray began.
“Why does it matter right now?” she stressed. “Can we focus on what is happening right now?”
“Whoever the fuck the old man is who came out of the room where they kept our best friend is isn’t important?” Manson asked incredulously.
“For now, yes!”
“How?! That makes no sense!”
“It really doesn’t make sense,” Wesley agreed, with Gray nodding along in agreement.
“C’mon, Ana, just–”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped at the other boy.
Taken aback, Foley frowned. “But Wes calls you that?”
Athanasia shrugged. “I knew him before you guys,” she admitted after a beat of silence.
His eyes, along with Manson’s and Gray’s, went to Wesley.
“It’s true,” he said with a nod.
Gray leaned her forearms on the table. “So, did you know about the assassin thing?”
“No.” Wesley’s tone wasn’t exactly clipped, but it was clear that he wasn’t happy.
Athanasia held back a grimace.
Gray’s eyes flicked between them, and a spark of realization flashed in her eyes. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ and she nodded slowly. “Well,” she said, somewhat awkwardly, “have fun talking that out.”
She crossed her arms and shifted in her seat. “Can we get back on track? Please.”
“That old guy–”
“Say it one more fucking time, Manson, I swear,” she snapped.
“Or what?”
“I will make that splitting headache of yours literal.”
Someone cleared their throat behind her. Everyone looked in that direction, and Athanasia was mildly surprised to see her father’s most recent foster kid standing there with a silver tray of sandwiches. He wore a t-shirt and basketball shorts and shoes, and had on a the helmet from the Signal suit. She knew he wore a domino mask earlier, so he must have switched one for the other when everyone else was too busy to notice.
“Athanasia, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s me. You’re Signal.”
Signal – or rather, Duke Thomas – nodded as well. “Yep. Hood said you guys might be hungry so he snuck off and made these real quick.” He set the tray on the table.
“Oh,” she said, still a little surprised but pleased, because honestly Jason made some of the best food. “Thank you, Signal.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Wait, Hood?” Foley choked out. “As in, the Red Hood?”
When she and Signal both nodded, Manson sarcastically said, “Oh, so the one you do know personally is the Ancients-damned crime lord. Great.”
“Why is a crime lord working with Batman?” Gray questioned.
“He’s a Bat,” Signal told her. “And these days, he’s more an anti-hero.”
“Former crime lord, then,” she said. “That’s suspicious.”
“Not if they’re family,” Wesley said
Athanasia looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Signal just stared at him and didn’t make a sound. When he noticed, Wesley shifted in his seat, seeming a bit awkward and uncomfortable from Signal’s stare.
“How do you know that for sure?” she asked him.
Wesley shrugged. “I don’t, it’s one of my theories. I’m not sure if it’s an uncle-nephew thing, a father-son thing, or pseudo family thing, or a brother-brother thing, or what, but I believe it’s something along those lines. Otherwise, why isn’t Batman treating Red Hood like any other criminal, like Bane?”
“Hood is nothing like Bane,” Signal stated. The corners of his mouth had turned down into a frown, and Athanasia noticed the defensive and protective undertone.
Honestly, she almost said the same thing in the same way.
By the way Wesley’s eyes widened, he noticed Signal’s tone, too. He raised his hands. “Hey, man, I didn’t say he was. That’s just the first criminal who came to mind!”
Signal stared at him for another second, visibly unnerving Wesley even more, then finally looked away. “Anyway. Eat the sandwiches if you’re hungry.” Then, almost resigned, “If you need anything, please tell me. I’m stuck babysitting to make sure Robin doesn’t walk on his ankle, and that kid is borderline grumpy on good days.”
Athanasia smirked. “Good luck.”
“Ugh.”
When he walked away, Wesley spoke up again. “My family theory is growing.”
“Please don’t start trying to figure out their identities,” Foley practically begged. “I’d like to stay on their good sides.”
Silence.
Foley sighed.
“Seriously, Wes?” Gray complained.
“We can talk about Wes’ obsession with secret identities later–”
“It’s not an obse–”
Manson cut him off with a glare. “Later,” she emphasized. “Batman. GIW. The assassins. What and how much are we telling him?”
Much to Athanasia’s relief, she didn’t try to bring up Ra’s again to get her to explain. Her shoulders relaxed at that, and conversation finally got back on track.
+++
Much to Bruce’s short lived relief, all Alfred needed him for was to give him an extra set of hands to apply bandages to the teen. They were almost done. It took longer than Bruce liked, simply because he had so many injuries, old and new.
Alfred finished wrapping bandages around the boy’s torso. Gently and carefully, Bruce laid him back down, having been holding him up to make things easier.
He stared down at Danny. Even under anesthesia from surgery and with a safe amount of morphine to ease the pain, his face was still slightly pinched in a way that told them something still hurt. Bruce wished he knew what else he could do to help him. His kid.
Danny and Athanasia, he thought. Another son, another daughter. One who had one giant wound on his chest and other smaller ones littered about, one who had defensive and offensive injuries and bruises.
He almost lost another son tonight. He didn’t know Danny, didn’t even know he existed until a couple of hours ago. It still hurt. Still settled an ache in his heart – for him, Athanasia, Damian, and the other teenagers.
“Whoever did this…” Bruce began, anger seeping into his tone. “Who would vivisect a child?”
“I’m afraid, these days, that list is longer than any of us would like, Master Bruce,” Alfred said.
Bruce pushed back the cowl and rubbed his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb. “This is…” He had no words. With a sigh, he dropped his hand. “How bad is it, really?”
There weren’t many times Bruce could count on his hands where he saw Alfred look so devastated that he was near tears. To see it now, Bruce almost retracted his question.
“He had internal bleeding that I had to stop. Multiple broken ribs. Broken sternum.” Alfred hesitated. “Misplaced organs that I had to put back.”
Bruce shut his eyes, and backed up to fall into the chair behind him. He leaned back, hand over his eyes. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Anything else?”
“Master Bruce–”
“Anything else?” he repeated, firm.
Alfred sighed. “He has bruises and cuts on his wrists – signs of a struggle against cuffs of some sort. Burns from something I am unsure of. His right forearm is fractured; we will have to call Dr. Thompkins to get it properly taken care of. Until then I placed a splint on it. He has other injuries, but those are superficial and nothing to worry about. If he is anything like anyone else in this family, he will make a miraculously full recovery.”
Taking in the information, Bruce rubbed at his temple, then looked back at Danny. He was pale from blood loss, and from where Bruce sat he couldn’t see the splinted arm but he did earlier.
The heart monitor beeped slower than an average human. It set Bruce’s anxiety off, afraid that at any moment it will slow down to a complete stop.
“There is…another thing that has my concerns,” Alfred spoke as he began to clean the area.
“The Lichtenberg figures.”
“Yes.”
Bruce noticed them when he first began helping Alfred. It was hard not to see them. The ones on his back started at the base of his neck and went all the way down his spine. Most branched off into faint, small lines that followed the nervous system of the body, and quickly faded out; a few went up towards his hairline. But there was one figure that branched off, that stayed prominent like the one down his spine; it went across his shoulder blade and down his left arm, not stopping until it reached the palm.
“They are old, from what I can tell,” said Alfred. “A few or so years, perhaps.”
Bruce brows lowered. “Lichtenberg figures disappear after a few days.”
“Not these.”
Bruce sighed.
The Lichtenberg figures. The horror of what happened and who did it. The Lazarus green on both twins, and Danny’s bandages. The secrecy of the twins.
Bruce had so many questions. He needed answers.
“Might I suggest, Master Bruce, that you wait to interrogate the traumatized teenagers?”
He stilled from where he stood back up. “We need answers–”
“And we can get them once everyone is well rested,” said Alfred. “We have no idea how long any of them have been awake, or where they even came from. Ask questions now, and you will have five exhausted and frightened teenagers giving you the hardest time of your life.”
Bruce thought back to when they first got to the Batcave. Of the persistence and stubbornness, and blatant refusal to let the adults take over. He admired their loyalty and want to protect their friend, but he did not want a repeat of that tonight.
“You’re right,” he reluctantly admitted.
“I often am, Master Bruce.”
“Hey.” The curtain moved. Jason poked his head in. “It’s just me,” he announced. “Gave Duke a tray of sandwiches earlier to give the kids. They have water, too. Need me to do anything here?”
Alfred looked down at the bed Danny was on; Bruce did, too. The sheets and mattress were stained from the impromptu surgery.
“A little help cleaning up and moving Master Danny to a new bed will be much appreciated,” said Alfred.
Jason nodded, then backed out with a, “One clean medical cot. Got it.”
That left Bruce and Alfred to continue cleaning everything else. The former tossed away the old bandages, dirtied thread, and alcohol wipes; the latter picked up the medical equipment that had been used and placed them in a plastic tub to be washed and disinfected later. Jason quickly came back in rolling up a clean bed, and they carefully moved Danny from one to the other.
Silence fell as Bruce began to check that the IV was still secure after all of the moving.
“So,” Jason said, Alfred leaving to put everything away, stained bed included. “Danny, huh.”
Bruce hummed.
The quiet turned tense between them.
“Hell, old man, just go ahead and ask.”
With crossed arms, he looked at his second son. “You knew.”
“Not a question, but sure. Whatever.” Jason motioned to Danny. “I didn’t know about him. Hell, I didn’t even know about Damian until he came here.”
His eyes narrowed a little. “But you knew about Athanasia. You recognized her on the roof.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged, carelessly. Like it wasn’t a big deal.
“For how long?”
Jason didn’t immediately answer. “I don’t know, B. I guess I was sixteen?” He crossed his arms, too. “She looked, maybe, a little younger than Damian is now.”
“So you met at the League.”
“Eh, sure… It would be more accurate to say she found me, and randomly appeared like the fucking Ghost Christmas Past or some shit.”
“And you never told me.”
“Jesus. No.”
“Why?”
“No more dead Robins. No more child soldiers. No more kids dealing with your shit,” said Jason. “Take your fucking pick.”
“They aren’t Robins, Jason, and they definitely are not child soldiers because of me,” Bruce snapped. “They are my children, all of you are, and I didn’t force any of you to do what we do. I wouldn’t have forced Athanasia to become a vigilante if she didn’t want to, if she came here with Damian!”
Underneath his domino mask, Bruce knew Jason was glaring at him. “Are you going to hound Damian like this? He didn’t tell you either!”
“Because he made a promise that he wouldn’t! You didn’t! Six years, son–”
“And she’s been visiting Gotham for two!” Jason yelled.
“What do you mean?”
“She already knew you’re her dad; don’t ask me how because I don’t know. But don’t you think she would have come to you if she wanted you to know?”
Bruce faltered for only a second.
It was long enough for a small projectile to hit him in his temple before he could form an actual response to his son. He flinched from the impact but caught it – a rock from somewhere in cave – and heard Jason begin to chuckle before he also got hit in the side of the head with another rock.
Having slipped into the curtained off area while they argued, stood Athanasia. A few more rocks were in one hand and Bruce had no doubt she would throw another one if she felt like she needed (or wanted) to.
Her expression was a guarded.
Jason glared at her. “What the hell–”
“The others want to speak with Batman. In case you forgot because of your aging mind, I didn’t tell them your identity, so I suggest you put the cowl back on before you walk out.” With that, she ducked out, not waiting for either of them to speak.
There was a beat of silence.
“Insulted by a new kid in under two hours,” said Jason. “That has to be a new record.”
“No,” Bruce denied gruffly, “it still goes to you for calling me a ‘big boob’ and hitting me with a tire iron when stealing my tires.”
“I wasn’t your kid then.”
“Hn.”
Jason exasperatedly sighed. “You’re impossible.” He walked out without another word.
Bruce put on the cowl, but didn’t leave until Alfred came back, wary to leave Danny alone. When Alfred assured him that he would alert them if needed, he left and made his way to Athanasia and the other teenagers.
He wasn’t surprised to see Damian already there. Either Athanasia got him or he forced Duke to help him; whatever the case, he and Duke now sat at the table with the others, while Jason stood off to the side against a nearby cave wall. His helmet was back on, and he watched the group with crossed arms.
He pulled up a spare chair and held laced it between Athanasia and Damian. He had barely sat down for longer than a second when the girl who introduced herself as Valerie Gray spoke up.
“We need to leave.”
“No.”
She reeled back, shocked. The others stared at him with either incredulity or anger. Tucker Foley froze with a half eaten sandwich hovering in front of his mouth, and Sam Manson looked ready to argue.
“Um, yes,” Valerie corrected. “You can’t keep us here, we aren’t prisoners. We brought Danny here for medical attention, and now that that’s done, Wes and I need to head back to Amity Park ASAP.”
“I can’t in good conscience let any of you to take another trip somewhere,” Bruce told them. “I’m not keeping you as prisoners. You need rest. All of you.”
“We can rest later,” Sam argued. “We don’t have time to just- just sit around and do nothing!”
“Resting isn’t doing nothing,” he said. “It’s making sure you don’t push your body and mind too much so you can work more later.”
“We don’t have time for later.”
“With all due respect, um, Batman, sir,” Tucker began nervously, “Sam and Valerie are right. We have a lot to do. This has already gone on for long enough.”
Underneath the cowl, an eyebrow raised. “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”
The group hesitated.
“There is a secret government organization tormenting a subspecies of humans and metas,” Athanasia explained. “The organization call themselves the Ghost Investigation Ward.”
“Ghosts,” Bruce repeated.
The teens nodded.
Duke ‘huh’ed, as if he was piecing things together in his own head.
“Ghosts?” questioned Jason incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “There are literally aliens on this world, a dude with a magical ring, an Amazonian woman, a gene in human DNA that gives some of us powers, heroes apparently die and come back to life on the regular, a bunch of other shit, and you’re seriously questioning ghosts right now?”
“What do you mean by ‘tormenting’?” Bruce asked before Jason could properly respond. “And why?”
“Ghosts, or anything paranormal, aren’t seen as good or friendly beings by them,” Tucker said. His eyes became downcast. “They aren’t even considered beings. Or sentient.”
“The GIW are ghost hunters,” Valerie explained. “And over the past few years, they have taken an interest in our town, Amity Park, because of the extreme amount of paranormal activity and ambient ectoplasm we have. Usually our local ghost vigilante takes care of them, and it’s never been that big of a deal, even though they have always wanted to catch Phantom and do Ancients know what. He’s always been able to stop them before anything got too serious.
“Honestly, we didn’t take them that seriously when we probably should have. We call them the Guys in White, because they’re like a lame, evil, paranormal-obsessed version of the Men in Black. Even though they did have bad intentions, they’ve never been successful. But last October…”
“They aren’t so lame anymore,” Wes muttered.
As Bruce quietly took in and filed away the information he just got, Damian gave them a somewhat judgmental look. “You underestimated them. That can very well lead to a deadly mistake,” he said. He glared at them under the domino mask. “It almost did.”
“We know,” Sam responded, sounding equally frustrated and solemn. “They are a government organization that got bested by a group of fourteen year olds when they first came along. What were we supposed to think? They have been getting better over the years, but so have we. We have always taken necessary precautions and we had plans for potential bad outcomes because Danny was insistent on that. But they stopped coming around for some time. We stupidly believed they’d given up on us. Then the Guys in White finally showed their faces again, and we weren’t as prepared as we should have been.”
“It’s why we need to get back to Amity Park,” Wes said. “They put us under martial law and we need to get in touch with another friend of ours.”
Bruce took in what they said. He still had a bunch of questions alongside new ones that he wanted answers to ASAP. Alfred was right, though; questioning them right now – let alone letting any of them leave to continue on their mission – wasn’t a good idea.
This was a group of eager, stubborn teenagers whose town and best friend were in danger. He understood their urgency to keep going, and he told them as such. “But it will do no good for anyone to run yourselves to the ground. I’m even willing to help and hear the full story of what happened, but not until each of you get some much needed rest. That’s final.”
“But–”
“Batman, you don’t understand–”
“Running on fumes will get you no where,” he spoke firmly and loudly. It was the same tone he used on his kids, both in and out of suits, when they were misbehaving or did something they shouldn’t have. “It might even lead to another almost deadly mistake. You all need to rest. You can either stay in a safe house, or I can get in touch with Athanasia’s father and see if you can go there if that’s what you want.”
“What if we want a hotel?” Sam asked with a glare that hard to tell if it was from anger at him or the migraine she had.
“I won’t let you,” he bluntly admitted. “A government organization is after Danny and you guys by proxy, for reasons I don’t know. It’s either a safe house, or Athanasia’s father’s home that I have personally created a security system for.”
No one responded. A short silence fell over them.
Bruce decided to stand up. “I will let you guys choose. I need to check on my partners out in the field.”
#dc x dp fanfiction#dc x dp fic#dc x dp au#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp#dp x dc au#dp x dc fic#dpxdc#dp x dc#dcxdp#dp x dc fanfic#dp x dc crossover#batpham#stay with me my blood#my writing
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Puppy Love - Bella Ramsey
Summary: whilst you have been busy with college, your brother has been looking after your dog for you. Finally you return home and get to meet his new best friend, and owner.
(the puppy in question is a Cavalier King Charles spaniel because they are the cutest!)
💌
Returning to your family home you were eagerly awaiting to reunite with Milo, and of course your family.
Exams were finally over and you now had more time for yourself. Usually you would spend your days cramming extra study and locked in your apartment. Sometimes going days without any real social interactions.
That was part of the reason you left Milo in the care of your family.
Milo was just a puppy, only a year old, and required a lot of attention. With studying, you couldn't provide that.
Knowing your younger brother, Steven, desperately wanted a dog and had plenty of free time, you knew Milo was in good hands.
Parking your car in the driveway, hastily you made your way to the front door. As you opened the front door you followed the sound of chatter and laughter, leading towards the garden.
Like you had expected your family sat around together on garden chairs spending quality time together. Glasses of white wine were left on the outside tables beside their chairs along with opened packets of crisps.
Your mother and father sat with their backs towards the living room, your father's arm laying on the back of the joined seat as he told tales from work. Your eldest sister, Lily, sat on her own individual chair rolling her eyes but listening intently to her dad's exaggerated stories.
The twins, Steven and Emma sat on a joint seat opposite Lily, drinking cans of soda as they made witty comments every now and then. Milo lay curled up on Steven's lap as he rested.
Walking through the living room the french double doors were open allowing you to quietly sneak up on your family.
Lily was the first to notice you. Her eyes widened briefly, she stood immediately from her seat approaching you with open arms.
"OH MY GOSH! Y/n! It's been ages!" She squealed, hugging you tightly.
You reciprocated the hug. You had always been closest to Lily ever since you were kids.
"I know! I've missed you all."
By now your entire family was standing around you, greeting you and pulling you into hugs.
"we missed you"
"how have you been!"
"have you met anyone?"
"come sit down!"
As everyone crowded around you, you tried answering all their questions, getting confused about who asked you what. A small, high pitched park silenced everyone, one by one everyone's eyes landed on Milo who stared up at you. Your mother and Emma stood a part allowing Milo to walk past them towards you.
Milo did so ecstatically. Running up to you he circled your feet a few times, barking happily with his tail swinging back and forth.
Your heart melted as you looked down at him. Crouching down you picked the small pup up and hugged him, kissing his head and scratching behind his ear as he liked.
"hi baby" you cooed.
Everyone settled down in the living room, sitting cozy on the couches as they watched tv. You were able to catch up with everyone, answer all their questions and ask your own. Milo was happily sitting on your lap, playing with his toy until he began getting restless. You looked down at him confused.
Steven noticed, "I usually take him for a walk around the park at this time. He loves it. His friend Skipper is usually there too"
You frowned but Milo's attention was caught at the sound of skipper's name.
"Whose dog is Skipper?"
Steven shrugged, "i don't know them very well. Their names Bella. We just make small talk as the dogs play."
You looked back down at Milo.
"wanna go see Skipper then Milo?" You smiled.
Milo leaped off your lap as he ran to the front door.
"No! You have jobs to apply to mister!" Your mother warned once she saw Steven standing up.
"but mum-"
"no. You've put it off long enough."
Steven sighed but didn't argue further.
Getting Milo on his lead, you two walked peacefully down the quiet street. Small Worlds by Mac Miller was playing in your earpods. The sky was a lovely pink and orange colour.
Since the park wasn't far from your family's home you made it there quickly.
Walking down the path you reach an empty circular field that seemed to go on forever, with only you and Milo along with another stranger and their dog.
Crouching down you took Milo's lead of him once he started getting excited and eager to run off. The minute the lead was off Milo began sprinting faster than you have ever seen him before, towards the stranger.
You presumed this was the stranger your brother was telling you about, Bella and Skipper.
You walked over to them. Bella didn't notice you approaching. They crouched down and happily gave Milo a few pats, though Skipper demanded attention too.
"so this is who Milo was so excited to see?" You made yourself known. Bella quickly looked up at the sound of your voice. They blinked a few times registering your words before smiling up at you. They stood up to face you.
"you are correct." They smiled sheepishly, "I hope you don't mind. Skipper really loves Milo."
You shook your head, "of course not. I'm y/n." You introduced yourself.
"Bella."
Skipper and Milo began running off, though still in view of Bella and you. It was quiet for awhile as the two of you watched them play.
"Are you looking after Milo for Steven?" Bella began small talk.
"oh no, Milo is mine. I left him with my family to look after for a while whilst I was busy with college." You explained. You assumed that Steven had claimed Milo as his own, something you expected since he often claimed that he loved him more than you.
"Ah." Bella nodded along. "What are you studying."
"fashion design." You answered proudly.
Bella smiled in thought, "maybe you could design me an outfit sometime." They teased.
"I would absolutely love that."
Bella was wearing knee length red shorts, a yellow, blue and red flannel with a white shirt underneath and sunglasses pushed up on their head. You liked their style.
The two of you walked over to one of the park benches, sitting side by side as Milo and Skipper fought over a stick twice their size.
"What about you? Are you in college?" You began a conversation.
"I'm currently doing a course in environmental science."
You pretended to know what that entailed.
As you studied their face a spark of familiarity hit you. You tried and tried to search your mind as to where you might recognise them from. You failed.
"where do you study?" You asked thinking maybe you've seen them around college.
"it's an open University module. So I don't go to college, I do it online." They explained. By now Bella and you had turned your bodies so that you were facing each other.
"oh." You frowned.
"what? Is that not good enough?" They joked, raising their brows in challenge.
You realised your mistake and shook your head and scrambled out an apology, hoping you didn't offend their feelings.
"No-no that wasn't what I meant, I promise! I would never-"
Bella's laugh cut you off.
"relax, I was kidding." They had a gleam in their eyes as they laughed at your distressed state.
You sucked in a breath of relief.
"I just thought I recognised you and thought maybe I've seen you around college." You mumbled in embarrassment. You diverted your eyes to Milo and Skipper. Both dogs now had sticks of their own in their mouths, still twice their size.
Bella's face went blank for a moment, they continued staring at you, whilst you watched the dogs.
"Do you recognise me from somewhere?" They spoke up hesitantly.
You glanced back at Bella, looking at them suspiciously.
"Am I supposed to recognise you from somewhere?" You shot back.
"Do you think you're supposed to recognise me from somewhere?" Bella said again.
"Do you think I'm supposed to recognise you from somewhere?"
Your lips cracked into a smile as you continued speaking in riddles.
"I'm an actor." They said, watching your face for any reaction.
You thought back to every show and movie you had ever watched. Then you imagined Bella in those shows until you figured out what you had seen them in. You were sure you had seen them before.
You gasped, turned to Bella and recognised them immediately.
"I HAVE SEEN YOU BEFORE!" you cheered after finally figuring it out.
"the last of us?" They assumed confidently.
"The Worst Witch!"
How could you have been so blind? That show was your childhood.
"the worst Witch seriously?" Bella laughed in disbelief.
"obviously I've seen game of thrones and Catherine called Birdy, but your hair was way way longer." You shrugged.
"i can't believe the worst Witch is the first thing to come to mind." They say back on the bench, looking over at the pups. You knew they were only joking from the smile on their face.
You gave Bella a nudge of your shoulder.
"it was a pretty great show from what I remember."
Bella's head turned to face you, "oh was it?" They teased.
The sound of small paws running up towards you caught your attention. Skipper and Milo were racing up the field, occasionally their sticks hitting off each other as they ran with them in their mouths.
You covered your mouth with one hand to hide your laugh.
As Milo approached you he dropped his stick at your feet. Skipper doing the same for Bella.
"where did you even find that big of a stick?" You questioned examining the stick from the ground.
Milo wagged his tail proudly. You scratched behind his ear as Bella lifted Skipper up into their arms.
"I think that's enough fun for one day." Bella looked between Milo and their own dog.
You nodded your head in agreement.
"I'll see you around?" You asked hopefully.
"definitely." Bella said without missing a beat.
It was silent as you two stared at each other.
Aware of the time you reluctantly got ready to leave.
You knew your face was beginning to turn red, biting your lip you hoped it wasn't obvious.
"bye Bella" you waved shyly.
Bella giggled, "bye y/n, by Milo."
Mentally you thanked Steven for bringing Milo to the park and Milo for making friends with Skipper. You would definitely be going to the park more often.
#bella ramsey x y/n#bella ramsey#bella ramsey x you#bella ramsey x reader#bella ramsey fanfic#bella ramsey fluff#bella ramsey x fem!reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#bella x y/n#bella and pedro#bellaramsey#bella ramsey angst#bella ramsey blurb#bella ramsey drabble#bella ramsey fanfiction#bella ramsey fic#bella ramsey x female reader#bella ramsey imagines#bella ramsey x oc
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My Most Detailed Character Profile:
The Intern from New Jersey Rats!!
Name: Skyla Ghost Bear
She/They pronouns
Black hair, blue eyes
She’s Irish/Lakota Sioux
Stands at 5 foot, 9 inches
She never met her father, he was a foreign exchange student at a local college who met her mom at a party.
Her mother wasn’t a very constant presence, having multiple boyfriends and using drugs.
Has an older half-brother, who is three years older, plus two half-younger sisters.
Their neighborhood is riddled with crime and gang violence, so she knows how best to get away from danger.
Grew up in a trailer park in western South Dakota.
Skyla’s best memories are from when she would visit her grandpa, and they would watch movies like ‘The Godfather’, and that is what made her so enamored with the mob.
She loved how it was so centered around family, and wanted to feel something like that.
The only people who encouraged her were her older siblings and her grandpa.
Was very good school, and had good grades, not that it impressed her mom, or her mom’s various boyfriends.
She got a job at 15, working at a hotel as a housekeeper, but then, started helping with the books. She got more pay for doing that.
At 16, Skyla was kicked out of the house by her mom, so she went to live with her grandpa to finish high school, as her brother had left for basic Army training after he graduated.
“Don’t become what they tried to make you. Be better than them, and most importantly, don’t be afraid.”- last thing their brother said before he went to join the army
Grandfathered died shortly after she graduated high school, so took a gap year before going to New Jersey for college.
Can speak three languages: English (fluently), French (conversationally), and Lakota (fluently)
She sometimes mutters to herself in Lakota and the boys don’t really asked what language that is (full on Lakota Code Talker here)
Always wears outfits that range from business-casual to business-professional. Really likes nice outfits, nice shoes, their sister taught her to use makeup and do their hair.
Early on in the internship, after the Pokémon Cards incident, she started to call Jean ‘Unchi-Ka’ (Pronounced OON-shih-kah, I don’t think there’s a setting for Lakota on Tumblr so I’m spelling it phonetically)
It means ‘Pitiful.’
“Come on, Unchi-Ka, we’ve got another hour to get this done.”
As they grow closer with Jean, she shortens it to ‘Unch’ (Pronounced OON-sh) which still means ‘Pitiful’ but in a more affectionate manner.
“Hey, Unch, let’s go get a coffee.”
Likes to laugh at people who get dream-catcher tattoos.
Was still able to graduate school, just had to do it online.
Is mildly lactose intolerant but would die for chocolate.
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♜Pairing: Briles
♜Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Brett Talbot, Kira Yukimura, Lori Rohr
♜Tags/Warnings: getting together, explicit sexual content
♜Words: 8217
♜Kinktober 2023: Reluctant Sex
ao3
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this funny feeling
“And, here you go.” The hotel employee pushes the door to the dining room open.
Stiles smiles at her. “Thank you so much. I’m terrible with directions.” And he’s a bit too tired after having to catch a fight at 3 am to navigate a hotel he’s never been to.
“That’s absolutely no problem, darlin’.” The woman smiles before returning to the reception. Luckily, it’s early enough that not too many people are out and about yet.
So, Stiles isn’t surprised when the only people he spots in the dining room are Satomi, Morrell, Brett and Lori, as well as two couples with newborns. He’d have preferred for Kira to be up as well, but he also can’t expect her to crawl out of bed at 7 am during her vacation.
Stiles’ heart jumps when Brett turns to look at him — and a smile blossoms on his lips. Fuck. This is the worst. He thought he’d be over him, still, every time he sees Brett again, his crush on the guy all but punches him in the face. Going to the same university for two years brought them a lot closer together. They were friends, surely. In the beginning out of convenience, but that changed later. They hung out daily, and Stiles’ heart did what it did best — it got attached. He did date other people during and after college, but it didn’t fucking matter. Every time he sees Brett again, he’s right back where he started.
Stiles takes a deep breath and crosses the room. “Good morning.” With a little awkward wave, he drops his bags on a chair next to Brett. “And thank you so much for the invitation. I know this is a pack thing…” A two week long vacation is exactly what he needs after the year he’s had, but he’s still a bit unsure about the whole thing. Part of him feels like he’s intruding on something private.
“Kira and Brett insisted to have you join us.” Satomi smiles up at him.
Brett too?
Surprised, Stiles glances at the werewolf, who jumps to his feet. “Let’s get you some breakfast. You must be starving.” He ushers Stiles away from his snickering sister and towards the buffet without waiting for a reply.
Stiles doesn’t have it in him to tell Brett that he already had breakfast, that usually ended in a very long discussion of his terrible eating habits. During college, Brett had made it his mission to make sure Stiles eats three times a day — even when he was stuck in one of his terrible relationships. Plus, Stiles doesn’t mind to spend as less time as possible with Morrell, who told him she’d kill him the last time they spoke, and Satomi, who still kind of scares him. He doesn’t get a read on her, and he’s not a fan of that.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Stiles asks as Brett pushes an empty tray into his hands. “I don’t want to intrude.” He glances back towards the table and catches Satomi’s eye. Great. Grinning awkwardly, he turns back to Brett. They’ve been close during college, but never meet-the-parents close.
“She likes you,” Brett tells him as he puts a bowl of scrambled eggs and two slices of toast onto Stiles’ tray.
Does she? “I don’t think I’ve ever talked to her.”
Contemplating the options, Brett merely shrugs. “You saved my life. She’d marry me off to you if that were still acceptable in today’s society.”
Stiles squints at the French toasts that are added to his tray. “That’s been a thing?”
“Yup,” Brett says, reaching for a bagel before he continues, “provide and protect are the most important features of a future mate.” Deciding against the bagel, Brett adds a couple of waffles before Stiles even has the chance to move away — who the hell is supposed to eat all of that? “It’s a stupid tradition. Nobody cares about that any longer.”
“I’m good.” Stiles grabs Brett’s arm, stopping him from adding anything else to his plate. “You provided me with enough food. More than enough, actually.”
Brett stares at him.
Stiles tries not to laugh.
“Asshole,” the werewolf mutters eventually, flicking Stiles’ forehead. “Keep that up and you’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Sleep on the—" Stiles isn’t entirely sure if he heard that right. That’s a joke. It has to be. “Are we sharing a bed?” Hopefully, that’s not the case. Stiles hardly survived sleeping on a pull-out couch with Brett after a party, how the fuck is he supposed to get through two weeks of not only sharing a room but also a bed?
“Yup,” Brett confirms as if that’s the most normal thing in the whole wide world. “Don't hog the blanket.”
Oh god.
———
Sighing, Stiles sits up and rubs his eyes. He doesn’t exactly fall asleep on the beach often. To be honest, the last time he did that was when his mum was still alive. The fact that basically passed out in public says a lot about how desperately he needs sleep. This vacation has barely started, and Stiles already misses this freedom. But there won’t be a lot of time to sleep once work is starting again.
Stiles crosses his arms over his knees and scans the beach for Brett. He’s not too far away, entertaining a group of the youngest werewolves with a girl Stiles has never seen before. They look awfully… domestic. Like this is a thing that is happening all the time. It hurts watching them. It hurts in a way Stiles didn’t expect. Feeling like this is fucking stupid. He shouldn’t. After all, he threw himself in every relationship he could find. He stayed in every relationship that was convenient enough, no matter how terrible it ended up being, just to keep his heart occupied because he was too afraid to get his heart broken by losing Brett if he told him he loved him.
The girl brushes her hand over Brett’s arm, something Brett doesn’t react to — either because it’s a too common occurrence or because he doesn’t care.
Please, don’t care.
“That bitch.”
“Lori!” Kira is sitting up on her own towel, staring at her friend in shock.
But Lori doesn’t react. She crouches down next to Stiles, arms crossed over her thighs. “You know I’m right.”
Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. “Who is that?” He can’t deny the pang of jealousy, or the frustration gnawing at him — and he can’t help but wonder, however briefly, if he’s missed an opening, he’s never been aware of.
“It’s Finch’s daughter,” Kira informs him, propping her chin on her left knee.
Finch’s kid? So, she probably knows Brett well. They must be close with each other since Finch and Satomi have decided to go on vacation together. Maybe they’re close in a way that— Stiles shakes his head and curls his hands into his towel. Best not to think about that right now.
Lori looks as if she’s smelling something rotten. “Quinn thinks she and Brett will bring the packs together one day,” Lori drawls, her voice teetering somewhere between annoyance and disgust, “through marriage.” At that, Lori shoots him an exasperated look.
“Marriage?” Stiles laughs because if he didn’t do that, he might end up screaming. “Brett?” he keeps going, going, going, trying so hard not to let the fear creep in. “He’s never going to marry.” Every time they as much as scratched the topic of marriage, Brett instantly changed it.
Lori stands up. “Not her, at least. Come on.”
“What?” Stiles looks up at her, drawing his brows together.
“We’re going to go swimming.” Clearly not in the mood for discussions, Lori grabs him by the upper arm and quite unceremoniously yanks him to his feet. The Talbots’ bossy nature really is fucking exhausting. “Drop the shirt. Kira, let’s go.” Lori doesn’t wait for either of them to follow them.
Knowing a little too well that any discussion is pointless, Stiles yanks his shirt over his head and tosses it onto his towel. If Lori wants him to go swimming, he will go swimming with her. Kira seems to have come to the same conclusion since she’s joining him on his way to the sea.
That Quinn girl spots them first, her features darkening almost at once. Mrs. Finch disliked him ever since Stiles corrected her once during AP Biology. Clearly, she didn’t speak fondly about him in front of her daughter.
Fantastic.
“Lori, hold on.” To his surprise, she stops dead in her tracks — causing him to almost crash into her — and stares at him with the same intensity remembers very well from Brett. “I don’t want to cause trouble, okay?” For one, it’s the first day of his vacation, he doesn’t need thirteen tense days. His anxiety is going to kill him. For another, Stiles doesn’t need to make shit any more complicated between the two packs.
But Lori merely waves a hand. “You’re here to resolve some issues, trust me.” And with that, the discussion seems to be over for her. Instead, she turns around. “Quinn, the girls want to play mermaid, not sea witch. Feel free to leave.”
Kira covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. Clearly nobody like Quinn.
“Yukimura!” Brett bellows from somewhere to their right. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”
“Oh, shit.” Without warning, Kira grabs Stiles’ hand and yanks him around, hightailing it in the opposite direction. Her grip around his fingers is tight, unrelenting, almost as if she expected him to take a moment to tap into his fox again. He’s never been the biggest fan of the remains of the nogitsune still deeply anchored in his DNA.
But his body does remember its powers a lot quicker than he expected. “What’s going on?”
Kira lets go of his hand, probably realizing that Stiles can keep up with her, and scrunches up her face. “I may have made a bet with Brett,” she admits, glancing over her shoulder, “saying that there’s no way they could capture us.”
Us as in kitsunes, Stiles assumes, but before he can dwell on it too long, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. “A little warning would’ve been nice.” He grabs her around the waist and stops both of them in their tracks. Tierney and Jiang have cut off their path now that the beach has gotten a lot emptier. Both of them are brimming with excitement.
Stiles twists around, so he’s standing back to back with Kira.
And Brett is right there.
Fuck.
Stiles steps away from Kira, watching as Brett comes running at him fast. There’s an almost predatory grin on his lips. Heart hammering in his chest, Stiles chances a glance over his shoulder, hating that he can’t see Jiang and Tierney without looking away from Brett. The two of them, however, seem to be focused on Kira. Good. But going up against Brett isn’t exactly the outcome he would’ve preferred.
“Split up,” he says, and Kira doesn’t hesitate a second. She spins on around and dashes back the way she came from. Stiles does the same thing, rushing past Tierney in the opposite direction of Kira. They’re faster than wolves, for the most part, but running in sand is a fucking nightmare for Stiles. He’s more stumbling than running. Finding every fucking hole in the world is really on brand, meaning Stiles’ advantage is dwindling fast— because Brett is not a goddamn klutz while running.
Stiles glances over his shoulder, and instantly regrets his decision. He misses a quite deep hole and steps right into it. His shin smacks against the edge, and all he can do is trying not to eat sand. Cursing under his breath, Stiles pulls himself out. Before he has the chance to get his feet back under him, Brett’s arm is around his waist, and he spins him around, pushing him into the sand.
The grin on his lips is more than predatory. “You can’t run from me, little fox,” Brett whispers as he’s leaning down until their noses almost brush.
Stiles’ heart all but skyrockets. “Is that a threat or a promise,” he asks, and he hates how breathless he sounds, hates that his body wants to stay right here and not move whatsoever. He’s not exhausted, not in the slightest, and he’s here to win a bet.
“A bit of both,” Brett replies, sounding just as breathless. He doesn’t move either and remains kneeling over Stiles’ legs, fingers digging into the sand next to Stiles’ head.
Stiles licks his lips, breath catching in his throat when Brett’s gaze drops down to follow the movement. Despite himself, Stiles holds his breath for a moment, too scared to move a single muscle. What is going on? Why is he looking at his mouth like that? He sucks in a breath. “What’s going to happen now?”
Brett blinks and locks eyes with him again. “Ocean,” he mutters, brows slightly furrowed. It almost seems as if he’s not sure himself if that’s really what’s going to happen. He certainly doesn’t move to get Stiles any closer to the ocean. Instead, his gaze darts back to his mouth again. Brett swallows, licks his lips, and his gaze flicks up to meet Stiles’ again. “I—" Brett cuts off, and he cups his cheek.
Something clicks into place.
Oh god.
Brett is trying to kiss him. Brett wants to kiss him.
And for a second, Stiles considers letting it happen. Because why not? This is everything he wants. Kissing Brett has been on his mind since meeting him again in college. Stiles swallows, parts his lips. But he’s going to leave, and Brett is going to return to Beacon Hills — and he can’t do that to himself. He fucking can’t.
“Ocean,” Stiles repeats softly, but Brett doesn’t even react. His thumb is tracing his jaw, and Stiles’ heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest. Bad. Bad. “Shark!” Stiles yells, ripping his hand out of the sand.
Brett pulls away, staring at him as if he’s lost his mind. Which is fair. It’s not like sharks are usually hanging out in the sand, but it’s really the only thing he manages to come up with to distract the werewolf — and open up a chance to push him off.
Something he does instantly, forcing a grin on his face and pretending as if Brett didn’t hear his heartbeat or pick on his chemo signals. “I’m not going to be captured by a wolf.” Twisting away, he gets to his feet surprisingly quickly and doesn’t hesitate to dash back in the direction of the others — in the direction of safety.
———
“You’re up early.”
“Look who’s talking.” Stiles grins up at Kira and pets the blanket next to him.
She plops down, body warm and sweaty from what’s very clearly been a morning workout. Her dedication is admirable. He didn’t make it a week, and he’d especially not do it on vacation. Kira yawns and pulls her legs to her chest. “What got you out of bed? Insomnia?”
Stiles wishes insomnia was the issue for once.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.” Aside from spooning him and giving Stiles the worst and most awkward morning boner, he’s had since fucking high school.
Kira cocks her head. “But he drove you out of bed at 5am?”
Stiles falls back and crosses his arms over is stomach. Only a second later, Kira does the same. They haven’t been able to do this in years. He’s been so busy working on getting the FBI’s supernatural division up and running, he hardly had time to even miss his friends. But right now, he hates being so far away, hates how occupied he is with travelling everywhere, sitting in hour-long meetings, trying to make supernatural creatures understand that he’s with them instead of against them.
And then he goes home alone, or crashes into a strange hotel bed in a strange town with no one to keep him company.
If everything goes well, Stiles will have another 12 months of this.
Stiles lets out a breath. “I can’t do this.”
“You still love him.” It’s not a question. It never has been a question.
“I can’t sleep in a bed with him for two weeks and walk away with my heart in one piece.” At this point, Stiles can’t even tell if he’s not too far down the rabbit hole already. How the fuck is he supposed to be this close to Brett and then act like nothing at all happened?
Kira turns onto her side, brushing strands out of her face. Her eyes are heavy on him, searching. “What if you tell him?”
“That I’ve been in love with him since college?” Stiles barks out a laugh, cold and humorless, a sound that hurts in his throat.
Kira gently pokes his side. “You’re not unlovable.”
Huffing out a breath, Stiles rolls onto his side too, facing her, and instantly, he’s transported back to college. How many nights have they spent exactly like this? More than he can count, that’s for sure. He’s never felt more peaceful. “But it’s Brett. Do you remember him ever being even remotely interested in a relationship?”
“But what if he is interested in you?” Kira urges, raising her brows in question.
Stiles pinches his. “Do you know anything?” It’s not necessarily unlike her to be this pushy, but it’s still a little unusual.
“No.” She shakes her head a little before propping herself up onto her elbow. “But Brett wouldn’t give away his right to a single room for just anyone.” That’s phrased very kindly. They both know Kira means that he wouldn’t give up his chance to have sex with various hot people hanging out at the hotel. “When I talked to him about inviting you, he instantly offered.” It’s not hard to see where she’s coming from. Brett wasting two weeks of sex with strangers without a second of hesitation isn’t exactly like him.
Stiles lets out a breath. “Okay, but even if he just so happens to like me back romantically…” he scowls a bit, but he cannot bring himself to say love. Just thinking about it makes him feel nauseous. “What good is it going to do? I’ll leave in two weeks, and there’s nothing I have to offer in terms of a relationship. I can’t even say when I’ve got the time to see him again. Do you know how hard it was to get these two weeks off?” He knows he’s being unfair by making it sound like this is some type of hardship. He wants to be here, but he’s a one-man-team at the moment. It’s a fucking nightmare. “Please, don’t get me wrong—"
“Oh, I know.” Kira sits up, smiling down at him over her shoulder. “But maybe things are easier than you think. You know how a different perspective can help.”
“So what?” Stiles its up too, bumping against her shoulder. “I should just tell him?” There’s no way that’s going to lead anywhere, not when Brett is Satomi’s second in command, and Stiles is the leader of the supernatural division. Maybe things will be calmer when everything is established.
Stiles squints at the storm in the distance, watching it creep closer minute by minute.
That’s a big fucking maybe.
“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t knock it till you try it.” She bumps into him with a chuckle.
Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’ll think about it.” But he’ll doubt he’s ever going to admit to his feelings. He doesn’t want to allow himself the type of hope that will eat him alive.
“And if it gets too much for you, I’ve got room in my bed too.” Kira wraps an arm around him and scoots closer, so she can prop her head on his shoulder.
The first rumble of thunder is audible when Stiles leans his head against hers. It won’t take much longer until the storm is right above their heads. But neither of them moves.
———
Instead, they ran inside through the rain, laughing and cursing and probably being a menace for the hotel staff. Stiles does feel a little bad in retrospect. They did leave behind a few tracks, but Stiles only cared about getting into the shower, and now he desperately needs to get some food into him.
But the moment he reaches the dining hall, Quinn steps in his way. “So, you’re this year’s conquest.” She leans against the wall right next to the door. As she shifts in front of him, Stiles has the weird feeling that she’s been waiting for him.
Drawing his brows together, Stiles glances from her to the rest of the room and back again. “Sorry?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Quinn’s smirk is about as pleasant as nails on a chalk board. “Every year, Brett finds someone, makes them feel special, fucks them, and then doesn’t even look at them the next day. Didn’t peg you as one to fall for that.”
Stiles stares at her, trying his best not to let his feelings get to him. It’s not like there’s a relationship in the cards; they’re living at opposite ends of this country. Stiles’ schedule with the FBI is a nightmare, and Brett, well, he’s supposed to be Satomi’s successor. He can hardly leave the pack. Stiles doubts he’d— why is the even thinking about this again? Only an hour ago, he’s talked this through with Kira, and as much as he’s trying to find it in himself to look for something positive, he can only focus on the negative. Probably because there are so much more arguments for keeping quiet.
Stiles shakes his head, deciding that not deigning this with a response is probably the best idea, and moves to walk away.
Quinn steps in his way.
“What the fuck do you want from me?”
“An apology.”
Stiles blinks. “For what?” They haven’t spoken a single word since he’s arrived. All she did was glaring at him from a distance.
“You’re ruining this,” Quinn tells him, stepping closer. Her eyes burn yellow, reminding Stiles that he should bring a weapon the next time he joins this type of fun. She looks ready to jump him. “Brett and I are supposed to—.”
“Bring the packs together?” Despite everything, Stiles has never been afraid of most werewolves. He whacked the fucking twins with a baseball bat when they were morphed into one weird as hell abomination, and he very colorfully told one of them what he’d do with a branch of mistletoe. He’s not going to be intimidated by Quinn. Raising his brows, Stiles leans forward a little. “I don’t care about your future plans, so back off before I forget that I’m with the FBI.” Stiles is really good at picking fights with people he doesn’t know. But this time, it’s at least not his fault.
Not entirely at least.
Quinn steps closer again, but before she has the chance to do anything, Brett appears out of nowhere and fits easily into the space between them. “Hey.” His voice is light and charming, but his rigid body speaks a different language. “Is there a problem?”
Stiles lets out a breath. Part of him wants to push Brett out of the way and deal with Quinn himself. He doesn’t need protection.
“You should find a different bitch, that one bites.” Quinn spits, stepping away from Brett with a sneer.
Stiles lunges forward, but Brett is faster than him. Grabbing his waist, he pulls him flat against his side, holding him back with no effort whatsoever. “Call him a bitch again,” Brett says in a low voice that’s so much more threatening than any growl could ever be. “I dare you. See what happens.”
For a moment, Quinn stands stock-still, staring at Brett as if she’s trying to figure out what the right thing to do is. She flares his nostrils as she takes a breath then gives Stiles a nasty smile. “We’ll continue this conversation probably much sooner than later,” she drawls, shooting Brett a look before stepping away. “Have fun.” Turning his back on them, Quinn walks into the dining hall.
Does she think Stiles is afraid of facing her alone? Because if that’s the case, she’s dead wrong. If Brett weren’t having an iron grip on him, Stiles would show her exactly what he thinks of her.
Fucker.
Brett doesn’t let go of him, holding him flush against his side, fingers digging into his waist, probably sensing that Stiles is very much itching to jump the other werewolf. “Let’s go outside.” It’s not a request, and he’s not waiting for a response anyway. Instead, Brett grabs him by the back of his shirt and yanks him around so fast, he almost lost this footing. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he informs him in a hushed tone.
Once through the door, Brett lets go of him with a shake of his head.
It’s stormy outside. Rain is pounding on the canopy of glass. The conversations from inside barely reach them here, even less when Brett pulls the door shut behind them. Stiles nudges a chair with his foot, barely repressing the urge to kick it across the patio and into the pool or turn around and snap at Brett as well. Just for good measure. He can’t believe the guy had the nerve to drag him around like a rag doll. Instead, Stiles takes a deep breath and directs his gaze to the dark horizon. “There’s a beach ten feet from here,” he mutters, pushing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “why the fuck would they have a pool?” Stepping right up to its edge, Stiles contemplates throwing himself into the cool water. Maybe that would drown the anger.
Stiles gets the feeling this whole vacation was a terrible idea.
“Sharks.” Brett doesn’t hesitate to reply and comes to stand next to him, so close their arms are almost touching. “But I bet you don’t fear those either.”
Stiles shoots him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Humming softly, Brett shrugs. “Not many people would talk to a werewolf like that. You’d probably punch a shark in the nose before it got too close.”
“That’s how you lose a hand,” Stiles replies, fixing his gaze on the thunderstorm in the distance. “You want to hit the gills or eyes. Preferably the gills.”
“And threatening a werewolf is how you lose your head.”
Stiles rolls his eyes, but Brett is probably right. “Noted.”
“Can we go back inside without you trying to kill her?”
Pressing his lips into a thin line, Stiles keeps staring towards the horizon.
Brett huffs out a breath. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the dark clouds as if they’re to blame for this. “She came at me.” He doesn’t even understand why she’s so upset at him. After all, Quinn said herself that Brett is always hooking up with random people. Besides, if she knows him even a little, she’s fully aware that Brett isn’t at all interested in anything that’s even remotely like a relationship. The guy has serious commitment issues. If Quinn really believes Brett will settle down with her, she absolutely has to rethink her world view.
Sighing, Brett wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and pulls him close. “I know.”
Stiles hates how his body instantly melts against Brett’s. At this point, the guy doesn’t even have to be a werewolf to notice that something’s up. But waking up next to him, missing him since graduating from college — part of him is tired of hiding his feelings. Maybe Kira is right. Maybe he should say something. If Brett doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, he might be able to finally move on. “She believes you’ll settle down with her.” Stiles knows he sounds jealous, but perhaps this is another way to figure out what’s what without serving his heart on a silver platter.
“And?” Brett cups Stiles’ jaw, easily moving his head so Stiles has to look up at him. “What do you believe?”
That’s not the answer he hoped for.
Stiles swallows around a lump in his throat. “I can’t see you settling down,” he whispers, suddenly hit with an awful déjà vu.
“Not with her, at least,” Brett mutters, a smirk curling around his lips, and just like that, he leans down.
Slowly.
Giving Stiles time to react.
Panic floods his veins. The moment he kisses Brett, the moment he allows this to happen, there is no going back. There’s no way to stop his heart from free-falling. But he can’t be Brett’s hook-up for this vacation. He can’t do it. So, Stiles jerks backwards — and loses his footing completely. The pool, he realizes belatedly.
Fuck.
Stiles flails, knowing very well that there’s only Brett to hold onto, but Brett merely watches him, hand now pushes in the pockets of his jeans.
Asshole.
He crashes into the water, deciding that breakfast can very much be happening without him. There’s no way in hell he’s leaving his room today.
———
“Well,” Brett says, kicking the door shut behind him, “that day is going swimmingly, isn’t it?” With the most annoying grin this side of the universe, he sets down a box filled with various breakfast foods on the bet next to Stiles. The guy really makes it hard to be annoyed with him. Then again, it’s hard to blame Brett for letting him fall into the pool after pulling away from a kiss twice.
If not for his stupid heart, Stiles would jump at the chance to hook up with Brett fucking Talbot for two weeks straight. But he can’t do that to himself.
Shooting the werewolf a narrow-eyed look, Stiles pulls the box towards him. “Can’t wait for your full routine, Mulaney.”
“At least I’m not holing myself up in my hotel room to mope.” Brett toes off his shoes and collapses into bed next to him, his mood unbearably good.
“I’m not holing myself up,” Stiles shoots back, ignoring the pointed look towards the drawn curtains. Yes, he went straight to his room after falling into the pool. No, he did not come out to eat breakfast — and he will not leave it for lunch or dinner either. This day is very much over for him. “I hate thunderstorms, you know that.” He hates how accusatory he sounds. The storm is hardly Brett’s fault.
Quinn’s bratty behavior isn’t either.
For a moment, Brett doesn’t reply and instead watches him nibble on a waffle with near uncomfortable intensity. “You got up pretty early today,” he says then. It sounds like he’s been meaning to talk about this for a while now.
Stiles isn’t entirely sure what that has to do with anything, so he merely hums in agreement and hopes that’s the end of it. He’d love to watch IT since he, for one, paid money for it — ha — and for another, he really doesn’t want to go into any details of anything that may or may not have happened.
Not even in the slightest.
“Why? Nightmares?”
Stiles gestures towards the TV with his waffle. It’s not like he needs to watch it, he knows the movie inside out. He still very much prefers it over this conversation.
But Brett keeps pushing, “insomnia?”
Once again, Stiles doesn’t reply. Mostly because he has no idea what to say to get out of this. Because the truth is a terrible start.
“Or the fact that we cuddled, and you woke up horny?” Brett snatches the remote and turns the TV off without hesitation. “You know I noticed, right?”
Know would be a bit much, but Stiles somewhat suspected it. Shit like this is just his luck. “Listen,” he says as his cheeks grow uncomfortable warm, “I just…” what? What could he possibly say to get out of this? “Haven’t been close to anyone in a while.” Aside from sounding absolutely pathetic, it’s at least the truth. “Can I please get the remote back now?”
The gin curling around Brett’s lips is positively wolfish. “I’ll trade it.”
Stiles puts the waffle down and pushes the box of food towards Brett, raising his brows expectantly. Of course, that’s not what Brett meant at all. “I’m so not in the mood for this.” But Brett is a shithead, and there’s absolutely no way for Stiles to get out of this. He’s too drained to try and out-stubborn a Talbot. “What do you want?” For some awful reason, the question tasted bad in his mouth, as if part of him new he is making a huge mistake giving Brett’s stupid idea even a second of consideration.
“A kiss.”
His breath catches in his throat. “What?” Sure, Stiles probably should’ve expected it since Brett tried to kiss him twice already. Hearing it this bluntly, however, is a very different story. “The fuck is this coming from?” It’s also not technically a lie. Brett has never tried kissing him before.
A flash of surprise cuts through Brett’s expression of confidence. For all but a second, it seems as if he questions his calculations — no matter how quickly the grin returns. “You kissed Kira and Lydia.”
“That’s different.” Stiles regrets those words the second they leave his mouth. Why can’t he think before he speaks? Sure, technically, the situations have been a bit different; mostly because they haven’t been alone in a hotel room. He kissed them during a stupid game. It’s never been serious. Besides, he also didn’t have feelings for either of them when it happened.
Brett’s on his case like a fucking bloodhound. “Oh, is it? We’re friends too, aren’t we? Or is it because—"
Before Stiles can think any better of it, he leans over and presses their mouths together. The very second their lips touch, he pulls back again, not allowing himself to give this any thought at all because if he does, throwing himself out of the window might be the more painless option. “There,” he mutters, not daring to meet Brett’s eyes.
The laugh filling the room is surprisingly breathless. “You call that a kiss?”
“You didn’t specify—"
“A real kiss, Stiles. I thought that’s obvious.”
But it’s not. Nothing is obvious right now. Stiles is two seconds from running away; this time not into a relationship but into Kira’s room. Maybe he should’ve taken her up on the offer the second she made it. “This is fucking stupid.” Stiles sits back on his heels, still staring anywhere that’s not Brett. That, however, is stupid too. Setting his jaw, he locks eyes with the werewolf. “Are people falling for this shit?” He’s angry and defensive, and Stiles knows Brett is more than aware of it — of everything, even the feelings Stiles harbors for him. How could he not? “It’s so stupid.” And it’s certainly not funny.
Brett laughs, tapping the remote against his thigh. “You mentioned that.”
Stiles makes a grab for it. Unsurprisingly, he’s unsuccessful. “I’m really not in the mood.”
“You mentioned that too.”
Stiles wants to smother this asshole with a pillow. It certainly would solved absolutely all of his problems in one go. “Seriously, if you want to kiss me that bad—" stupid, stupid, stop talking “— just do it. Don’t act like a fucking middle schooler.” Stiles snaps his mouth shut entirely too late. With Brett, there’s always a risk that he might do it.
And, of course, Brett doesn’t hesitate.
He tosses the remote aside; because it’s never been about this fucking remote, because Stiles could tell things have been different since the moment he arrived, because Brett attempted to kiss him twice already. He would have, too, if Stiles hadn’t pulled away to protect what’s left of his heart.
But Brett doesn’t allow that this time. He pulls him in by the front of his shirt and crashes their mouths together.
The collar of his shirt digs into the nape of his neck, and Brett’s lips glide over his. He holds him there, doesn’t allow him to pull away again in any shape or form. He wants to, and he doesn’t want to. His body screams for Brett, begs for his hands and his mouth everywhere on him.
But he can’t do that to himself. He’ll have a night, if everything goes well, he has two weeks with Brett, two weeks of living his heart’s desire — and then reality comes crashing down on him.
Brett’s tongue traces Stiles’ lips, and his thoughts evaporate. Stiles cups the back of Brett’s head, holding him close. Brett wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him even closer. His eyes flutter shut, and his heart pounds in his chest.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Stiles sighs softly into the kiss, giving Brett the chance to deepen it. His tongue flicks Stiles’ teasingly. His whole body tingles, and Stiles shudders as the werewolf grabs his ass shamelessly. This fucking guy has a way to consume him entirely too easily. It’s not fair.
Before Stiles knows it, he’s on his back, Brett above him, his body warm and heavy. His kiss is desperate and bruising and eager for more.
So much more.
For something Stiles would rather not give.
Fuck.
Stiles let’s go of Brett and pulls away. “Wait,” he whispers breathlessly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Their relationship is meant to remain strictly platonic. There’s too much risk to ruin it, too much risk to ruin himself.
And he can’t.
Not this time.
But Brett clearly doesn’t get the memo. He kisses him again, and Stiles kisses him back because he really, really wants everything that’s happening so, so fucking bad; the way Brett tastes like orange juice, his nose bumps against Stiles’ and his hands are roaming his body, and the way he bites his bottom lip.
It makes him dizzy.
Stiles curls and uncurls his fingers then grabs Brett’s shoulders. “Stop,” he mutters into the kiss. Wait doesn’t set the right signals. “Stop.” And he finally manages to turn his head to the side. “Brett—" He really needs him to fucking stop.
Instead, Brett drags his lips down to his jaw, trails them further down to his throat.
Stiles leans his head back, gasping when Brett sucks on his sensitive skin. It’s so easy to just give in.
No.
No.
“I said, stop!” Stiles gives Brett’s shoulders a shove and finally, finally, the werewolf raises his head, but he’s not moving off him. “I don’t— I don’t want this.”
Brett quirks a brow, clearly not buying it — not when Stiles’ body sends a very different signal. “I beg to differ.”
The amusement rubs him the wrong way, and he gives Brett another push. “I’m not going to sleep with you just because you offered me to stay in your room.”
Brett sits up as if Stiles slapped him in the face. “Is that what you think?” His voice is icy, his muscles rigid, and suddenly, the way he towers over him now is terrifying. It’s easy to forget how dangerous Brett can be — and he’s got every right to be pissed. “Do you believe Quinn? Do you really think I’d treat you that way?” They both know the answer to that question — and that’s most likely why Brett hasn’t kicked him out of the room yet.
Shaking his head, Stiles props himself onto his elbows.
Brett collapses onto the bed next to him. “Are you going to tell me the real reason?”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t.”
Stiles drops onto his back and squints at the ceiling. “A bit of both, I guess.”
To his surprise, Brett laughs. It’s breathless and soft and everything but angry. “Can I tell you something then?” He rolls onto his side and props his head on his hand, studying Stiles’ face with sparkling blue eyes. He’s so pretty it hurts. “Something only Satomi knows?”
Stiles licks his lips and nods. Slowly. He’s not entirely sure what he might hear. “Sure.”
“I love you,” Brett tells him as bluntly as always. He chuckles when Stiles bolts upright — not entirely sure if his heart is going to stay inside his body in the foreseeable future. But Brett continues talking as he scoots behind him and wraps both arms around his waist, “and I can’t stand another year of being away from you.” His left hand slips under Stiles’ shirt.
A shudder runs down his spine, and Stiles grabs his wrist. He doesn’t stop him, not yet, merely holds on for dear life.
With ease, Brett pulls him closer, running his fingers over Stiles’ lower abs. “I wanted to take my time and try to figure out how you felt.” His lips are so close, every word is painted against the shell of his ear. All the while, his hand creeps lower at a snail’s pace. “But the bed is still drenched in your scent from this morning, and… I overheard you talking to Kira”
“Oh god,” Stiles breathes, not sure if it’s because of the admission or because Brett pushes two fingers past the waistband of his sweatpants.
The soft chuckle paves its way straight to Stiles’ dick. He wishes he could say it’s because he hasn’t been close to anyone in forever, but that’s not true — it’s Brett, all of this is fucking Brett.
“And I just can’t help myself,” the werewolf whispers, grabbing Stiles’ chin to turn his head just enough to brush their lips together. “I want your scent all over me.” He hooks a finger under the waistband of Stiles’ boxer briefs, tugging once, twice. A question. ‘Stop me’, it seems to offer.
Stiles lets go of Brett’s waist and curls his fingers into the sweatpants instead, blood rushing in his ears.
And Brett continues; he keeps talking, allows his hand to slip further into Stiles’ boxer briefs. “I hated seeing you with others. I hate how they treated you.” Just like that, Brett curls his long fingers around Stiles’ dick — the touch alone makes him almost jump out of his own body. “I knew I could treat you so much better. I will treat you better.”
Stiles groans and lets his head fall back.
Another chuckle.
Stiles tugs on Brett’s sweatpants.
“You smell so good,” Brett whispers, free and sliding from his chin to Stiles’ throat. His thumb rests right above his pule. He hums, sounding so smug, so fucking happy with himself.
It should be embarrassing that all it took were a few choice words to change Stiles’ mind, but it’s hard to feel bad with a hand wrapped around his dick. “Brett,” he breathes.
Brett hums again and kisses his temple. “Want me to make you feel good?”
“Please.”
Brett makes a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a grow. Everything after that is rushed. They’re moving, getting rid of clothes. Brett’s shoe refuses to cooperate. It’s fun to see Mr. Smooth getting frustrated enough over such a small thing. A moment later, the shoe is gone, and Brett is on top of him again, kissing him with a hunger that leaves Stiles lightheaded and painfully hard.
Biting his bottom lip, Stiles watches as Brett rummages through his backpack. He’s hard lines and muscle where Stiles is skin and bones, lack of training and time to eat carving their marks into his body. His dick is long and hard and, apparently, now exclusively for Stiles’ pleasure — well, and Brett’s, but that’s a given.
If Brett told him the truth, that is. Which he did, right? They’ve been friends for years. Brett wouldn’t lie to him just to get into his pants.
Right?
“I can hear you overthinking.” Brett drops the backpack next to the bed, flicking a bottle of lube at him.
Stiles catches it awkwardly. For a moment, he stares at it as if the weight of his future rests inside of it. “Are you sure about… this?” Stiles gestures vaguely around, not daring to look at him.
“You mean the sex thing, or the whole I-love-you speech?” Brett asks, and although he smirks at him, his blue eyes have gone unbelievably soft. “Because I fully intend to be your trophy boyfriend.”
Stiles rolls his eyes.
“I’m serious about us. If you let me, I will come with you after this vacation. I’ll travel the US with you. I’ll make sure you eat and sleep, and I fuck you as often as you want me to.”
“And here I thought romance is dead.” Stiles can’t help but grin at the idea. It’s easy to see Brett by his side, to come home to him. Still, “it’s going to be boring for you, though, isn’t it?”
Brett raises his brows, shuffling closer until they’re nose to nose again. “Relaxing by the pool? No way.”
“I’m not staying in hotels like this.” Not usually, at least.
“Stiles,” Brett sounds exasperated, yet he cups his cheeks ever so gently. “I can deal with a year of ratty motels in the middle of nowhere if that means I’m with you, okay?” The moment Stiles opens his mouth for a reply, Brett leans over and kisses him, very clearly done with the conversation, and pushes him back into the pillows. “You’re not going to talk me out of this,” he whispers against Stiles’ mouth. “Stop wasting your breath.” With a chuckle, Brett plucks the lube from his fingers. “And relax, my love.”
Fucking hell.
Stiles runs his fingers through Brett’s hair and pulls him down for another kiss. He’ll allow himself to dream, to imagine this future Brett is painting will have a happy ending. Perhaps it does. He’ll never know if he refuses to try. So, he tries — tries to be an optimist, tries to relax as Brett’s hands and mouth explore every inch of his body, and tries desperately to hold onto his sanity as Brett’s tongue and fingers do their very best to make him fall apart.
Something that gets significantly harder the moment Brett thrusts in to the hilt. He presses their foreheads together, breathing heavily as he stays still for way too long.
Stiles hooks a leg around Brett’s thighs and rolls his hips. The way Brett moans his name makes him almost cum on the spot. “Fuck,” he breathes, “warn a guy.”
Brett chuckles as he captures his lips for another kiss mere seconds before he pulls back out and thrusts back in, fast and hard, yet not quite hard enough. Brett does it again, harder this time — testing how far he can go, or how much he has to hold back.
Stiles moans into the kiss when he does it for a third time, unable to stay quiet any longer.
“Okay?” Brett asks, stilling again.
“Yeah,” Stiles gasps, “better than okay.”
Brett lets out a breath. “You’re perfect,” he mutters, and it almost sounds like a curse. But Stiles can’t be bothered. Now that they’re here, he’d like to feel it for as long as he can, even when Brett won’t be leaving his side anytime soon — or ever, hopefully. God, he wants his marks all over his body, wants to feel this with every step he takes.
Brett seems to be thinking along a similar vein because he keeps the pace, fucking Stiles as if he’s got every intention to leave his mark everywhere. His fingers curl around Stiles’ dicks again, adding more fuel to the fire burning absolutely everywhere inside of him.
Stiles digs his fingers into Brett’s back, feeling his muscles tighten as he rushes towards his orgasm.
They’re hardly kissing any longer, instead, they’re breathing, gasping, moaning against each other’s mouths — lips brushing against each other’s more an accident than purpose.
And then, it hits him. His orgasm cuts to his core, and Stiles throws his head back.
Brett holds him, fucks him, until he collapses on top of him, boneless, skin hot and sweaty, face hidden in the crook of Stiles’ neck.
His brain is still trying to catch up while his heart is already beating in sync with Brett’s. His body truly never fails to disappoint. Stiles lets out a soft breath and runs his fingers through the blond strands. “I could get used to this.”
Growling quietly, Brett nips at his skin.
Stiles flicks his ear. “What the hell was that for?”
Brett chuckles and props himself onto his elbows. His eyes are bright, his lips ever so kissable, and he ducks down and brushes their noses together. “I’m not going to get a quiet afterglow, do I?”
“Have you met me?” Stiles raises his brows, not exactly expecting an answer to a question that couldn’t be any more rhetorical if he tried. “I could offer you cuddles in exchange for the remote, though.” He’s going to finish that movie, even if he has to stay still in Brett’s arms for the rest of it.
Sighing dramatically, Brett kisses him again. “Fine.”
Stiles grins. “I love you.” Three words he’s been wanting to say for years.
“I love you too.” But hearing them feels so much better.
#briles#stiles stilinski#brett talbot#teen wolf#brett x stiles#stiles x brett#kinktober 2023#*tv:teen wolf#*w:kinktober2023#*w:complete#*s:briles
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Disventure Camp Headcanons Part 1
AIDEN
Half Argentinian Half French Canadian
Had a huge TOP phase in middle school
Only child
Super good singer but hates hearing his voice
ALEC
Afro-Turkish and Japanese
Diagnosed w Autism when he was a child
Smokes
Started drinking shortly after he got married; relapsed after his separation w his ex
Has an older sister by 7 years
ALLY
Transgirl; came out to her grandfather and he was the only supporter she had
Definitely had obsessive love disorder when meeting Hunter the first time
Super fucking bad at dancing
Likes K-pop (Fromis_9, Stray Kids, Billlie, P1harmony, Enhypen, Stayc, aespa, ITZY)
ASHLEY
Country music defender
will actually die on the Country Music hill
like she's from Texas but she's FROM TEXAS ykwim
Transgirl; realized she was a girl at a young age and transitioned w a supporting family
Would probably roll her eyes at u if u assume she loved AppleJack when she was younger
I mean, she did
but not as much as ppl assume
CONNOR
Jewish
Despite having a booming business, he still doesn't understand technology
but he WAS a boss at programming his MySpace page
"programming is my passion" college dude
Nickelback liker
I'm so sorry
DAN
He and his sister shared a bedroom until she moved out
Actually convinced her to come back home bc he missed her
like
crying on his knees
"PLEASE COME HOME IT'S SO MISERABLE WITHOUT U THERE I MISS U"
blasting a radio to her favorite songs
did i mention he loves his sister
Pokemon kid
Oh, he's also autistic
DEREK
Half Filipino and half Columbian
Transguy; was an unhappy "girl" growing up and would refuse to listen to anyone who didn't call "her" by Derek
Facebook user
only to troll, tho
He tried trolling on Twitter too but Trevor had to pry the phone out of his hands
Secretly likes Trevor
and by secretly I mean he angry-cried while writing drafted emails of his confession
Barely cries or anything like that, emotionally, but angry-crying is his #1 basically
Is not a registered gun owner
DREW
Other than the notebook, he has a communication device
Adopted
Video games hurt his eyes
so do mobile games
Honestly i think he just needs glasses
likes dogs :)
ELLIE
Half Irish and Half Singaporean
Transgirl; came out in her last year of junior high
Middle child w two sisters
While struggling w her identity, she was a Pick Me girl to fit in #sad!
she ended up giving up on fitting in #gogirl
Malay's her first language
Mom passed when she was little
tolerates cats
FIORE
3/4th Italian 1/4th Chinese
hates horror movies
not bc she's scared of them or anything
she just thinks they suck
forced into a ton of shit to become normal
girlscouts, ballet, soccer, etc
she hated everything
but she can make a good cookie deal
GABBY
Has an unhealthy obsession w watching drag shows
she doesn't understand any of the lingo
she just thinks the outfits r pretty
LPS kid
also watches too much animal documentaries
will actually sit down and say "im bored, time to watch a 6 hour doc on cheetahs"
she just cray cray like that #loveher
unhealthy addiction to stickers
GRETT
Transgirl #slay
was a Toddlers & Tiaras kid
passenger princess
forces Yul to drive her places
they have almost broken up 5 times bc of this
she also genuinely forgot to tell him she was #trans
u should've seen the look on his face
when
..
yeah
#hedidnotcare
that's ooc but idc
she's bi :3
HUNTER
Half Chinese Half White
Dad left after his youngest sister was born
Lived in China until he was 8
He has autism
Christian btw
like pslam bunch-of-numbers in his bio
can quickly change languages like that
will talk to u in english then will answer his phone in cantonese
texts like a millennial
:/ sorry
smokes
the killers, staind, blink-182, and r.e.m fan
plays the guitar
JAKE
Half Korean Half Japanese
cannot speak those languages fluently, tho
sorry
he and his brother wrestled a lot
his brother would always win
anyways he was a theater kid
but quit bc of some drama
haha. get it ?
one of those gays who cries to mitski & ricky montgomery
but only listens to them when he needs to cry
which is often
JAMES
has been in cringe compilations before
imagine if i just ended this w just that hc
would that be funny
anyways
one of those middle schoolers who was violently supportive of the lgbtq+
like everyone knew he liked boys
except him
loves his younger sister
like a lot
they r bffies
will call her in the middle of the night randomly
"i just posted a new tiktok, go like it."
JENSEN
genuinely have nothing for him
like
can i just say he's dreamed of men shirtless before and end it at that
um so yeah
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Could u tell/show us more of ur hcs for Abby? She's always been one of my favs
YAH!! I really have to sit and think about this, because sometimes I have headcanons that I forget are Headcanons, you know what I mean?
(haha this turned out to be extremely long so I'm putting in a read more)
Okay- so I think her dad is originally Canadian and is half Cree. Since Cree is named after her voice actress, and her voice actress is named Cree because she is Cree, it makes perfect sense to me. Her dad was living in France for some kind of medical residency situation when he met her mom and they started their family. We know that Abby moved to the United States when she was a couple years old, like Nigel did. The only reason I can think that cree doesn't have a French accent would be that she tries really hard to fit in. But with one north American parent, she probably spent a decent amount of time in the states growing up too.
I think her family is a comfortable upper middle class. I haven't decided what I think her mom does for work. I have a very specific headcanon about her family having a nice finished basement that has gym equipment in it, cuz that's where Abby and wally work out together. Sector V will often have movie nights in Abby's basement too.
This is clear in canon, but she has a great relationship with her parents. Cree does too. Their family situation is complicated since the sisters have so much animosity towards each other but so much respect for their parents and their family in general
Abby IS fluent in French, the whole family is. They visit France to see family about once a year. Abby isn't close friends with Angeline, but because Angeline knows Creole French and has a girlfriend who lives in France, the two have kind of taught each other how to speak the others native dialect of French.
As an adult, Abby is going to start wearing glasses full time. This is a headcanon I forget to implement when I'm drawing her though 😅
In middle school and high school, Abby is an expert at floating around different social circles. She's tight with the popular kids but still has no issues being best friends with the nerds and weirdos (sector v, basically)
Her and Rachel end up becoming close, but in a way that still feels vaguely like a professional relationship. This is because they were both soopreme leaders at certain points and they both deal with a lot of social pressure. As adults, they have a new kind of professional relationship because they both become the core of Nigel's support system when he's in prison. Rachel becomes his lawyer as soon as she's able to and she works closely with Abby, since she's his best friend and a social worker (not HIS social worker, but she still brings her knowledge to his case)
After turning 13, Abby and Nigel become teen operatives. When Abby is soopreme leader, she abolishes decommissioning. In my adult AU, the divergence point is the teen-kid treaty from operation TREATY. Basically, the treaty goes well instead of...going horribly. As a result, the GKND doesn't target earth in the same way, and decommissioning becomes unnecessary. The hard line between kid and adult was a huge reason that "adulthood" was such a problem on earth. Wally, hoagie and Kuki stop being field operatives as teenagers (they still do some stuff for the knd, but to a lesser extent), whereas Abby and Nigel become a hardcore undercover duo.
Abby is very busy during her teen years. Shes in the top of her class and does a few extra curriculars. She also tutors Wally and is the biggest support he has in terms of school. She gets into a good college and pursues social work. I don't think she stays in that career forever though, because she needs to chill out at some point.
There's eventually a huge scandal regarding Father's business practices which culminates in his arrest. When this happens, the DCFDTL enter the foster care system and Abby takes on their case personally, feeling a sense of obligation to help them. As I've said before, I headcanon that the DCFDTL cannot age. At this point however, I haven't worked out the kinks yet, but they're able to start aging again. For reasons.
Abby has a tumultuous relationship with Henrietta in middle and high school that ends with a very messy break up. While I'm grad school, Abby and Hoagie become each others biggest support and hang out all the time, which is how their romantic relationship develops. They get married and have two kids, Naomi and Hogarth (Garth) the Third.
I HAVE MORE TO SAY BUT Y'KNOW WHAT...this is getting out of hand so I'm going to stop. If anyone has more specific questions about Abby feel free to ask!
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A few of my headcanons for Shellington!
Based on his accent, I’d say he’s Scottish. (Also: a lot of the fan base seems to agree on this.)
Multi-lingual! The languages he knows include, but are not limited to:
English
Scottish Gaelic (his first language)
Spanish
Latin (he mostly uses it for science stuff)
Hawaiian (learned it from Dashi)
French
Chinese
Japanese
Greek
Russian
Various sign languages
Vegimalese
In true European fashion, he calls math “maths” and sports “sport.”
Never goes anywhere without his comfort items:
Special satchel that Dashi made for him
Magnifying glass
Field journal and pencils
Seashell
Favorite rock
Sometimes gets so caught up in his research that he forgets to eat at the proper time. Same goes for getting a good night’s sleep.
Pretty much an older brother figure to Peso. He’s very gentle and patient with him, as well as protective. A few headcanons for them:
Peso is constantly reminding Shellington to get more sleep, and “eat some food, for the sea gods’ sake!”
They love going sledding together! And in true sea otter/penguin fashion, they never use actual sleds. They just slide down the hill on their bellies.
They also love playing music together! Peso plays the xylophone, and Shellington either plays the electric keyboard or the bagpipes.
Whenever Peso gets nervous, Shellington will hold his flipper to comfort him. He also gives Peso lots of hugs!
Scared of heights. This is already canon, but I forget what episode established it. Whenever traveling long distances, he prefers to travel by sea.
Normally, he’s the reasonable member of the friend group, but if you put him and Kwazii in the same room with no supervision, the two of them share but one brain cell.
An actual conversation they had:
Kwazii: Do you know what time it is, matey?
Shellington: Hand me my bagpipes and I’ll find out.
Kwazii: Okay, here ya go.
Shellington: *plays bagpipes*
Captain Barnacles: Who in the seven seas is playing bagpipes at 2 AM?!
Shellington: It’s 2 in the morning.
Likes to pick up rocks, seashells, sea glass, and other small objects. Most of these he keeps for his collection, but occasionally he gives some to his friends. It doesn’t even have to be a special occasion. Whenever he feels like it, Shellington has a present for any of his friends.
Headcanons for him and Dashi:
They’ve known each other since college (or maybe high school.)
They’ve collaborated on research papers many times.
They both love watching movies!
Sometimes Dashi calls him “Shel” for short.
They often act like an old married couple, even though they aren’t.
Chaos duo, but more chill.
He/they and she/they solidarity!
Whenever they haven’t seen each other in a long time (this can be a few hours to a few months), they get SUPER excited. Dashi tackles Shellington in a hug, often catching him off guard. There’s a lot of hugs/cuddles and happy stimming.
Shellington is either an excellent cook or he almost burns down the kitchen. There is almost no middle ground. It’s canon that the Vegimals are good cooks, but someone had to teach them!
Tunip and the other Vegimals aren’t the only creatures who have imprinted on Shellington. He’s also become the (accidental) parent to several birds, including guillemots, plovers, and ducks. Not to mention several sea creatures. Kwazii is the only crew member who’s accidentally adopted a similar amount of critters.
Headcanons for him and his sister Pearl:
They try to keep in contact with each other, but it’s not easy! Shellington has lots of science research to attend to, and Pearl is preoccupied with her own research— and being a mom.
When he was little, Shellington caught a sea urchin and kept it as a pet. A few days later, Pearl ate it (not knowing it was her brother’s pet). Needless to say, he was very upset when he found out.
He’s definitely lied to the crew about some “fun facts” just to be funny. And unlike Kwazii, he knows how to make his tall tales believable.
To cheer his friends up, he will use his magnifying glass to make observations and compliments about them. For instance:
Complimenting Peso on his thick coat of feathers. “It must keep you very warm while you’re swimming! And what beautiful countershading!”
“Dashi, your hair clips perfectly coordinate with your outfit today! And I see you chose the sparkly ones! They remind me of these shiny rocks!”
Drinks lots of tea. Usually earl grey tea or seaweed tea. He and Inkling meet up a few times a week to drink tea and play board games. And discuss marine biology.
Sometimes he makes tea for the entire crew!
He has autism and OCD. The first one is pretty much canon (and @octoagentmiles explains it better than I could). The second one is just me self-projecting. Anyway— Shellington has to have things just so, or else he can’t relax.
He has befriended clams before, despite the fact that he frequently eats them. This causes a lot of moral dilemmas on his part. Every time he is about to eat raw clam, he prays to the sea gods for forgiveness before smashing the clam open.
He likes experimenting with different food combinations. Someone tell me the episode that confirms that he puts hot sauce on his kelp cakes!
He, Dashi, and Tweak send each other lots of memes.
He’s definitely posted several versions of “do you love the color of the sky,” much to his crewmates’ annoyance.
He chirps and purrs when he’s happy! Whenever he and Kwazii are excited about something, both their purr motors are going at full speed. He will also instinctively purr whenever he’s snuggling anyone.
He spends a lot of time in the sick bay with Peso, and helps him treat patients. If he wasn’t a marine biologist, he probably would have become a doctor.
On the rare occasion Peso is sick or injured, Shellington is the one who takes care of him.
Peso: I’m fine, really! *looks like he’s about to collapse*
Shellington: No you’re not. You’re going back to bed and I’m going to make you some hot tea. Get some rest, or so help me…
Sometimes switches from English to Scottish Gaelic when excited or angry or otherwise feeling strong emotions.
He seems like the kind of guy to enjoy Star Trek. His favorite characters are Data, Scotty, and Uhura.
Favorite video games:
Animal Crossing
Minecraft
Pokémon (mostly the older pixel style games)
Samorost 3
Signs all his letters with “best fishes.”
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Semi-Finals - Catholic Character Tournament
Propaganda below ⬇️
Sister Michael
She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.
joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?
she does love a good statue it has to be said
She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3
sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.
Shadow
In sonic destruction (the AI generated fan thing snapcube made a while ago) shadow was catholic or something which I think is reallyyyyyyy funny
Ok listen. I know this is a stretch but hear me out. He says “oh my God” in the Twitter takeovers so we know this is a possibility. I see him as a Christ-like figure because I saw his whole confrontation with Mephiles and was like “this is a thing that happened in the Bible??” and the pose Mephiles shows him in is literally like a crucifixion and Mephiles is meant to be a demon / false prophet reference. And also he’s called a demon in Shadow The Hedgehog 2005 then the guy who calls him that is like “I was wrong I’m sorry” and that also reminds me of a thing with Jesus in The Bible. But the biggest reason is his whole thing with Maria cause I think he’d come to earth and hear Ave Maria once and convert to Catholicism idk he’s like we’re comforted by a female familial figure named Mary sometimes called Maria?? And her color is blue????? Heck yeah I’m in because I Will Cry. Also feel free to share this as propaganda obv even if he doesn’t get in the bracket just. It’s funny.
I feel like he’d battle a lot with being seen or portrayed as a demon and how the aliens he’s related to very much look and act like demons idk lmao- and also I feel like confession would just be good for him I think he needs it for his mental health
There is a debate on the lovely website tunblr that Shadow T. Hedgehog is an allegory for Jesus Christ.
He is Jesus, idk what to tell you. He lived, he was sealed away, he was awakened again and deemed the ultimate lifeforms, he’s angry but not evil, does what he believes is best for people and the world at any given time. Total loser.
Vote for Shadow the Hedgehog
There seems to be some confusion in the notes. He is Catholic. It may not be explicit, but it can be inferred.
Shadow was created by Professor Gerald Robotnik, and for the early part of his life, lived with Gerald and his granddaughter, Maria Robotnik.
Robotnik is not a made-up name. Google Search results may only bring up pages related to the Robotniks of the Sonic the Hedgehog series, however, it is a rarely used Polish surname. Poland is a historically Catholic nation, and… come on. Maria is the most Catholic name ever. The Robotniks are Catholic. Shadow was created and raised by Catholics.
Now you may be wondering to yourself: Does Catholicism even exist in Sonic? The answer is yes, at least in the Archie comics, where Protestants are explicitly mentioned.
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Couple this with the fact that several characters, including Shadow, have canonically taken the Lord’s name in vain, it is reasonable to infer that Christianity, and therefore Catholicism, exists.
So… while Shadow’s own religious beliefs may not have been explicitly addressed… at minimum:
Catholic is a cultural designation that Shadow will always be allowed to claim based on the family that made him.
Whether he’d actually want to claim that designation is a different conversation, but the other propaganda does a fine job of explaining why it may be appropriate to headcanon him as a practicing Catholic.
Now that we’ve established that Shadow has as much of a right to be in this tournament as anyone else, there’s one very important reason you should vote for him:
It would be funny if he won.
Thank you.
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Essays are done!! Here’s some Shadow propaganda because the propaganda we currently have sucks and I need to fix that. While yes, Shadow being Catholic is a meme, there is more to outside of the simple “fandub said so” and its not quite stated its Catholicism but just how he behaves and his actions. There’s a lot of Sonic content so I will try to keep this brief. Gonna get headcanons out of the way.
Shadow is Chilean and so are Maria and Gerald Robotnik because I fucking say so and they’re Catholic. He definitely had un rosario next to his like. Bed or test tube whatever he slept in. So did Maria btw. Alright let’s move on because I am 100% correct.
Let’s start with some background for Shadow. Shadow was created as a cure for a girl called Maria and he grew to care for her as a sister and loved her deeply. He was artificially created but still holds a soul that is similar to Maria’s. Long story short, Maria is killed protecting Shadow who watches as she’s shot in front of him. He has his memories tampered by Maria’s grandfather, Gerald, who manipulates him into carrying out revenge on the Earth, even if Shadow ends up as collateral.
Shadow struggles with frequent identity crises, even before Maria’s death and always wondered what his purpose was, what he was made to do. Was he a weapon? Was he a cure? He’s the Ultimate Lifeform, but what does that truly mean? ? He’s Shadow, but what more is there to him? He doesn’t know what his purpose is other than what others have prescribed to him, and he guides himself through the will of others (something that he breaks through afterwards but not yet). Shadow at his core is self-sacrificing and constantly punishes himself. This is where you can see some of that good old guilt that everyone has been using as propaganda, but we also see someone who is giving and kind.
He is snarky in the game, especially when interacting with Sonic, but he’s having what is essentially an ongoing mental breakdown but keeps moving because it is his duty to his sister. He doesn’t believe himself important enough to continue on after her and sees it in himself to act out on “Maria’s wishes”. After the revelation that Maria’s final wish for Shadow was for him to make those on Earth happy and to protect them, he immediately sacrifices himself to do so.
Okay, that’s a lot and you’re probably asking “Okay, you mentioned he is a giving person and yeah he has guilt, but that’s not really Catholicism” and yes you would be right! So let’s go into the more important part of being Catholic. The charity, the community, the kindness, etc. Shadow is a very reserved person and has the habit of being a dumb teenager because well. Yeah. Anyways, he definitely has a soft spot for those he cares about and while his whole arc (in my opinion) is about finding the freedom of self-autonomy, it is also Shadow growing as a person and deciding not to save people because others have told him he needs to, but because he wants to. It is born from his soul and its his nature to care for people. It is who he is, and he knows it now. He’s not doing it because he’s a hero or because he is told to do so. Shadow is a very giving person and I think people tend to forget about that especially due to bad writing from the past decade or so. He is also stated to help out at food shelters and volunteers a lot. He is proud and a bit prickly, but he cares so deeply about those he loves. He is stronger with his loved ones and will always do his best to protect them. These are minor, yeah, but you don’t need sweeping and enormous acts to get attention for the good deeds you do. Most of what you apply of Catholicism is done at the personal level, between your friends, family, and community.He also goes to Mass whenever he can and if he can’t he goes to the capilla and also does the sign of the cross whenever he runs by a church. Cutting this off because this is already 740-ish words and I had to send these across multiple asks I am so sorry Catholic mod
#cct polls#tumblr tournament#tumblr bracket#tumblr polls#polls#r7#the derry girls#derry girls#sister michael#sonic the hedgehog#Sonic Destruction#shadow the hedgehog
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WIP introduction : Teacups and Ticking Clocks. (TW: mentions of schizophrenia, delusions, narcolepsy and ADHD)
This is my newest WIP (it's literally only a couple days old) but I treasure it with all my heart, honestly I don't know why I just do. Kinda similar to Aurabreak, it's very different to my other WIPs. This time it isn't because of the audience though, it's because of the genre.
Unlike most of my WIPs, Teacups and Ticking Clocks isn't really a fantasy novel, despite being inspired by fantasy. As the name might have suggested, it's a moderen day parody of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Caroll. Also, it isn't by any means a one for one parody, a lot of the stuff has been changed, such as relationships between characters amd the overall story. I also added some extra characters as well ;D
Since it isn't Fantasy, there isn't much world building to cover so I'm probably gonna dive into the characters cause well, I feel like it.
Alicia Lennings (Alice) - Alicia is an 18 year old girl with diagnosed schizophrenia. She lives with her older sister Lori, older brother Garrett and one of his boyfriends Derrick. Her parents work away from home (a different city) so she doesn't see them too often. Alicia currently attends Silver Creek Community College and studies Media Studies, History and Art there. Her, Bianca and Chester often visit Grey's tea shop together. Alicia also has appointments with Dr. Caroll twice a week.
Bianca Harely (White Rabbit) - Bianca is extremely shy, though fiercely protective of those she loves. Like her girlfriend Alicia, she is 18 years old and attends Silver Creek, where she is studying Psychology, English (Literature and Language) and French. She also loves to write poetry, though she would be sooo embarrassed if anyone actually read it. Which is kinda a problem since it's what she's planning on pursuing a career in.
Chester Kade (Cheshire Cat) - Chester may not be the most academically minded but they try their best. They're a little older than the other members of the main trio (19 years old) but are still at college due to having to redo a year. They are ultimate chaotic neutral energy but are always there for their friends. The courses they're studying at Silver Creek are drama, geography and law.
Rosalind Heartman (Queen of hearts) - Rosalind (or Rosa for short) is 18 and attends Silver Creek, like the main trio. She studies food and nutrition, art, film studies and drama. However, she finds them (and almost anyone else who is different ) as far lesser than herself and those few whom she holds in high regards. Rosa often expresses her distain to those around her, especially Alicia, who she often calls crazy and other ableist insults.
Grey Conwell ('Mad' Hatter) - Grey is older than most of the main characters, not by much though, he is 21. Throughout his teenage years, he apprenticed at a small tea house. When he graduated, he ended up buying the shop when it was up for sale. It is now known simply is "Grey's Hat and Tea Emporium" as he also sells hats he creates. Grey has ADHD and like Alicia has sessions with Dr. Caroll, though his are only once weekly. He's also in a polyamorous relationship with Garrett and Derrick.
Mars Harely (March Hare) - Mars is Bianca's younger cousin. He is best friends with Dorine and the two are pretty much inseparable. He doesn't attend Silver Creek College since he only just turned 16 (he goes to the local high school instead) but he does work a couple of weekend shifts at Grey's.
Dorine Abbot (Dormouse) - Dorine is a sixteen year old, who like her friend Mars works part time at Grey's when she is not in school. When Dorine is on shift, there always has to be someone extra working with her, just incase anything happens due to her narcolepsy.
Dr C. Caroll. - Dr Caroll is a psychiatrist originally from a small village in Cheshire. He has many clients, though out of the main cast he works with Alicia, Bianca and Grey (who was the one who first told Alicia of him). He is a kind and gentle man, who is always very patient with his clients.
I think that's pretty much all for now!
Also, now that this monster of a post is done, I can get back to answering asks and tags! :D
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