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mccarricks · 4 years

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( brittany o’grady / demi woman ) WESLEY McCARRICK is 23 years old and is a SENIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in FILM and is known for being THE MAVERICK as THEY can be HUMOROUS and OPEN-MINDED as well as DITZY and IMPULSIVE. every time i see HER/THEM, THEY remind me of PURPLE SKY IN THE DESERT, SKATING AS FAST AS YOU CAN TO FEEL THE WIND ON YOU, A JOKE TOLD WITH A TOOTHY GRIN.

hero’s back w character no. 2 and yet......

full name: wesley ‘wes’ elaine mccarrick

birthdate: february 2, 1997

age: 23

gender: demi woman

pronouns: she/her/they/them

zodiac: aquarius

nationality: american

ethnicity: black (louisiana creole) and white (irish)

hometown: santa fe, nm

languages: english, intermediate spanish

family:

theodore mccarrick, father

elaine barlow, mother

ruby mccarrick, older brother

delphine mccarrick, older sister

sherri barlow, maternal grandmother

many cousins

orientation: bisexual biromantic, pref. towards women/nb people but will date men

religion: agnostic

height: 5 ft 4 in

distinguishing features: eyebrows, hair, lips

character inspo: ilana wexler (broad city), harley quinn (dc comics), phoebe buffay (friends), prob more

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

TRIGGERS: divorce, mentions of crime, drug and alcohol use

the youngest child of ted and elaine mccarrick, wes was a kid who is full of life. she’s the kind of kid who did things to make you smile, and it usually worked. she was warm and inviting, a little naive, but she had a strong support system.

her parents divorce when she’s six, she doesn’t quite understand it but her dad moves out, and her grandma and multiple cousins move in. it’s a lively household, between her mom, who works as a nurse, and her siblings, and her cousins, it was never really quiet and there was never a lot of room.

despite the split, her parents maintain that their children have a relationship with both of them, and truthfully, wes is a daddy’s girl. she and her dad were cut from the same cloth, happy go lucky, fun loving, a bit silly, he’s the one who introduces her to movies. it’s their thing, watching and critiquing them together, and it’s not whatever is in theatres either. they went for all times of filmmaking, new wave, surrealist, and more.

it really stuck with wes, who herself had begun making movies, mostly horror/fantasy/scifi stuff with her friends-- she writes and directs and occasionally, she’ll don a costume and star in them. they’re silly little things, but her family always sat down for her “premieres.”

her formative years are marked with plenty of things, sports, deaths of distant family members, a cousin or two who gets caught in the wrong crowd and ends up in jail, and throughout this, wes remains a rock for her family.

she’s in high school, and she gets into the eclectic crowd, the outcasts, the weirdos, the ones who smoked under the bridge, and partied out in an abandoned trailer near the desert. these freaks were her freaks. they accepted her with open arms, as she them.

she chooses thales because she always wants to see the east coast, and frankly, as much as she loves her family, she wants to be free of them. and they have a fantastic film program. so!

she meets steven in their first film class together, and they’re fast friends, despite her usual weariness of YET another film bro, steven proves to be a good egg. so she thinks. she finds out through him talking that he might not be the most faithful to his girlfriend, and as much as she doesn’t like meddling, she thinks it’s only right to let clarissa, who she doesn’t really know well, know. however, before there’s a chance, everything happens-- now she’s stuck wondering if she should reveal the truth, or let sleeping dogs lie.

nana is different, nana and her dated her sophomore year, nana’s freshman year. it wasn’t serious. but they were fond of each other. they eventually break up, but they stay friendly, waving to each other in the halls, chatting at parties.

both the disappearance and the murder is weird for wes, who by all accounts, isn’t great at dealing with bad shit. she prefers to laugh about things. laugh about everything. because if she doesn’t laugh, she’ll cry.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

wes is a mess, a free-spirit, a walking contradiction. she’s very independent minded, the kind of person who does things without thinking so much about the consequences, this leads her into trouble sometimes. like nicking something from a convenience store, or stealing a stop sign as a prank. she’s definitely the kind to goof off and not exactly dedicate her full attention to something. and while she’s in genuinely good spirits on most occasions, she has a staunch ‘no asshole’ policy. the type to defend the underdogs, and go after bullies. she’ll punch you with a smile on her face, and yet it ends up being more unnerving than you realize. she’s a bit of a ditz, as well, never the best at school, but can talk your ear off about the going ons of the world. she’s a lovable dumbass, for sure, and loyal to a tee once you get her as a friend.

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

horror movie fan! her favorites are some of the oldies, like dracula and the bride of frankenstein! and some new ones! big fan of jordan peele’s work, as well as ari aster’s! but mostly really advocates for women directors and directors of color!

also does roller derby! she picked this up her first year at thales and fell in love with it, i can’t think of a name for her yet, but she’s a blocker, won’t hesitate to elbow some dick at the bar

kinda a tomboy? she’s always been! she’s rough and tumble and not afraid to get down and dirty with someone, i.e. will join those football games on the quad or crawl through the mud for a scene to shoot

doesn’t know if she wants to be a director/writer or a cinematographer honestly.... she loves the technical aspects of film as much as the making the stories

definition of a bruh girl, says it a whole lot, but also just if you tell her you love her, she’ll just roll her eyes and be like you’re an idiot (which means she loves you too) she’ll be affectionate if she’s close to you

kinda a wh*re oops....... texts multiple girls at a time and doesn’t want to hurt any of their feelings she doesn’t know how she keeps ending up in these situations... also a bisexual disaster

a stoner as well..... always has a massive jar of weed

unclear whether she lives on campus or off campus but if she does live off campus she has a pet turtle named elsa lanchester after the bride of frankenstein actress

a drummer! she’s in a band (name tbd) she started drumming at a young age and found it was a good way to manage her aggression

doesn’t really do well with emotions, so she’ll either be like there, there, or try to make jokes.... she really said kids can you lighten up

walking meme... such a walking meme... doesn’t know so many things she’s like a cute puppy with no thoughts head empty but she’s so fun to be around

life of the party.... nana she came fr ur spot and she took it and she’s not sorry but she does miss u a lot

doesn’t rly feel like she’s allowed to be upset anyways bc some people have it...... way worse.... can u say Imposter syndrome

kind of an enabler...... will be that person to push u to try things but not in a peer pressurey way, more like if u are unsure abt sending a text she says do it

wears fun earrings and socks! think lollipops or gummy bears or found objects like she collects that shit it’s her lifeline

boxes! she’s been boxing since she was abt 12, courtesy of her older brother (who is now a doctor thx ruby) and it’s a good way to exercise and release stress

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

best friend -- two of a feather, cut from the same cloth, or complete opposites it doesnt matter to her (the abbi to her ilana)

roller derby friends -- she’s p close to the team, margs on her

makeup artist pal -- i think it would be neat fr someone to try and teach her makeup whether its normal or sfx bc she wants to look like a monster or smthn

she’s gullible, u take advantage of that -- u just tell her lies p much and she’s like yeah ok that sounds right

party friends

classmates

fwbs (f/m/nb) -- tbh she might have one or two of these but they literally are the def of pals who bone sometimes... like v good abt being like you good? u dont want more? cool me too

exes (f/m/nb) -- mostly dated women or nb people but def cld have had a guy

she smokes you out -- p much the only reason u hang out w her is bc she has good weed

someone she’s fought -- like fully decked in the face, prob said something that rubbed her the wrong way and it just devolved from there

people who dislike her -- she could definitely be seen as annoying bc shes loud and dorky and funny so ??

breaks someone out of their shell -- p self explanatory, pushes them to have fun, w everything happening shes rly like lifes too short to not take the opportunities around u

cousins! probably on her dad’s side! i figure she has some east coast fam

anything? truly?

#pyrrhic.intro #intro.#divorce tw #crime mention #drug use tw #alcohol use tw #i pulled this out of my ass

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luninosity · 5 years

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For @thebestpersonherelovesbucky: here’s the full text of the fake film review I wrote yesterday, for Steadfast...

Steadfast Combines History and Heart Into Triumph

Jillian Poe’s latest directorial effort, Steadfast is at once familiar and unfamiliar: a Regency romance set against the Napoleonic War, full of ballroom scenes and lavish costumes, crackling with politics and passion. It’s (extremely) loosely based on the 1940s novel of the same name, which in turn was based on the historical Will Crawford’s surviving letters and notes, and the romance is real in more than one way—assuming you haven’t been living under a rock, you’ve seen the stories about on-set melodrama: Colby Kent and Jason Mirelli hooking up, being injured, falling in love, and from all reports being blissfully happy.

Leaving the behind-the-scenes drama aside, the question is: is it a good film?

The answer is unequivocally yes.

It’s more than good. It’s a brave film, in the best ways: not only in telling a historical gay love story—and it is very, very gay; Jillian Poe and her cast don’t shy away from sex scenes—but in the raw emotion and power of the storytelling and the relationship. It’s the kind of film that gets remembered as a landmark: what good filmmaking can do. And it’s worth seeing, not only for the attention to period detail or the reminder that gay people (and black people, Indian people, and others; we see an impressively diverse London, especially among Will’s Home Office fellow recruits) have always existed in history, but for the sheer emotional experience. Steadfast is a romance, unashamedly so, and it wants you to fall in love, and you will.

The casting and the script are spot-on, to start.

Jillian Poe has her favorite stable of actors, so some familiar faces won’t be a surprise. Colby Kent, also a producer, and given co-writing credit with Ben Rogers, stars as Will Crawford—Rogers and Jillian Poe have independently confirmed that Colby did on-set rewrites, which means most of what we see is likely his. We’ve discussed Colby and the industry and uncredited script work at length back when that news broke, so here I’ll just say that Colby is a better writer than any of us realized—good at knowing and utilizing the source material, but also paring down, choosing the exact right word for each moment, giving his fellow actors dialogue that sounds effortlessly natural. Odds on a Best Adapted Screenplay award or two? Pretty high, I’d say.

Speaking of Colby Kent, he’s always been quietly excellent on screen, often underrated (that Academy Award loss to Owen Heath should’ve gone the other way, no offense to Owen, who is also generally excellent), and equally capable of adorable clumsiness or aristocratic decadence. You could argue that playing young and wealthy and vulnerable and gay is exactly in his wheelhouse and hardly a stretch, and you might be right—but you would also be wrong.

It’s an award-winning performance. It’s a master class in complex character acting. It’s compelling and dramatic and the core of the film, at least half of it, more on which later.

Will Crawford—in ill health, a natural scientist, the Regency equivalent of a rich kid and only heir to a vast estate—might have come across as weak, or naïve and fragile, or in need of rescue. And Colby Kent’s good at fragile and lovely and desperate. But Will’s also a literal genius, determined to be useful, and willing to do anything—including spycraft and affecting the tide of battle and the fate of nations—to protect the man he loves. Colby Kent never lets us forget that, and the character and the story become richer for it. He’s almost at his best in moments without dialogue—I say almost because Colby, as ever, has flawless timing when delivering lines, both the heartbreaking and the wryly sarcastic. But his eyes and expressions say so much that every close-up could be a page’s worth of emotion-filled speeches, except not, because they’re not necessary. He’ll definitely get the Academy Award nomination; if there’s any justice, he’ll also win. Though, having said that, my personal vote might go to the biggest surprise of the film, just because I was so impressed and delighted. But we’ll get to that in a minute.

The supporting cast is also superb—Leo Whyte, as Jason’s second-in-command, embodies complicated and compassionate loyalty, someone who’d follow his captain into battle and also sympathize with his captain’s difficult love, given his own socially fraught marriage to a poor Irish girl (Kate Fisher, having a marvelous time and some of the funniest lines). John Leigh gives his performance as a conflicted would-be mutineer some delicate nuance—he still admires his captain and ultimately makes a painful personal choice. Jim Whitwell epitomizes workmanlike British gentlemanly acting—though we get a hint of the dirtiness of his profession, and of his sympathy for Stephen and Will, which adds layers to his performance. And young Timothy Hayes is worth watching as Stephen’s favorite optimistic midshipman, with deft comedic timing in the midst of storms and the stalking of a French ship.

The crown jewel of the supporting cast, of course—and the shoo-in for Best Supporting Actor—is Sir Laurence Taylor, notoriously picky about taking on new projects at this point, but here fully committed to his role as Will’s father, the aging Earl of Stonebrook.

It’s easy to say that Sir Laurence is a legend, but sometimes we forget what that means. In this role, we remember. He delivers words that cut right through his on-screen son, and by extension the audience; but his anguish and grief are equally genuine: he’s a man who loved and lost his wife, who doesn’t understand his only son and heir, who clings to the need to protect the family name and estate and future, while faced with the dual truths that his son prefers men to women and in any case might die young—of illness, if not from daring the world in Regency spycraft. The Earl is awful and vicious and cruel to Will—but watching Sir Laurence stand at his son’s bedside, or come to the window and silently watch his son depart for London…those moments will make you hurt for him despite yourself, and it’s a virtuoso piece of acting.

Speaking of brilliant pieces of acting, let’s talk about that biggest (and I don’t mean just the physique, though that can’t be missed) surprise of the film: Jason Mirelli.

First, a confession: I, like quite a few people, felt some skepticism about this casting choice. That’s not to insult action films as such, and Jason Mirelli’s been a consistently reliable action-hero lead. But it’s a very different genre, and Jason’s previous filmography hasn’t, let’s say, exactly indicated much dramatic range. (Having said that, I’ll admit to unironically loving Saint Nick Steel. Is it ridiculous? Yes. Is it hilarious absurd so-bad-it’s-amazing fun? Also yes. Does it have Jason Mirelli in an artistically torn shirt chasing terrorists through a shopping mall while protecting small children and wearing a hat that makes him the reincarnated spirit of Christmas? Hell yes it does. We watch it every year.)

If you, like me, were on the fence but willing to be convinced…

I’ll say it right now: Jason Mirelli should be on that Academy Award ballot alongside Colby Kent.

He’s the other half of the heart of this film, and the second he steps down from that carriage in the opening shot, he’s commanding the narrative. He’s captured the physicality of a wartime ship’s captain, but more than that, he’s captured the layers of character. Every motion of those shoulders, those eyes, that jawline, all means something—as do the moments when he chooses not to move and be still. Take the moment when he looks at Will in the morning-after scene, which is just a look and a few beats on camera, but Jason’s able to convey Stephen’s love, and wistful frustration over their different social classes, and genuine affection, and fear about Will’s illness, and surprised joy at having someone to wake up next to. It’s a hell of a role—romance, war, leadership on a ship’s deck, the shock when Will falls gravely ill, the emotion of the ending, which I won’t spoil here—and Jason’s a revelation. He’ll have his pick of roles after this, and he’ll deserve the Oscar nod, though it’s unlikely he’ll win—the Academy likes to reward previous nominees and is notoriously skeptical of popcorn-flick pedigrees, and Jason might need to prove himself once or twice more. But he shouldn’t have to. This is enough, and it’s fantastic to watch.

Part of that epic transformation should be credited to Jillian Poe’s direction. With Steadfast, Poe demonstrates her skill as a director and her ability to handle multiple genres—she started out, you might remember, with lighter romantic-comedy fare, often also with Colby Kent—and her ability to get quality performances from her actors, every single one, every single time. I also wouldn’t be surprised at her picking up a directorial award or two; it’s an ambitious project, and also a labor of love, which shines through in each frame.

The costuming and sets are as plush and attentive to detail as you would expect from an Oscar-bait period piece that’s a Jillian Poe production—that reputation for perfection’s deserved. The score is, if not anything out of the ordinary for a Regency setting, handled with delicacy and love—the music plays into the mood of each scene unobtrusively and expertly.

Fans of the novel might have some minor critiques involving the looseness of the adaptation, in particular the ending, which—let me offer a minor spoiler warning, no detail, but stop reading if you want to know nothing at all—adds a final sequence that provides a happy ending for Stephen and Will. Is it book-accurate? No. But I called Steadfast a brave film earlier in this review, and this ending is an act of courage: imagining a happy ending for gay men in history, demanding that their love story end well and with joy. (And Colby Kent personally met with the novel’s famously reclusive author, so for all you purists, this change was made with permission.)

Those stories matter. Steadfast as a film matters. Go see it. Fall in love.

#character bleed #i write fic for my fic #meta #headcanon #extras #thebestpersonherelovesbucky #esaael #turtletotem #nocturymiszczu #ahnjunae-blog #who am i forgetting to tag

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stereksecretsanta · 6 years

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Merry Christmas, @jeangvrey!

I hope you enjoy this Jeangvrey!!!

Read on AO3

*****

Batman Has Bunny Teeth

Chapter 1: Firescapes & Batman Capes

“I am the night!” Comes the booming voice behind him and Stiles turns, flailing a bit as he stares up at the towering shadow of a man, bathed in darkness, cape billowing despite the lack of wind. All Stiles can do is cover his mouth to hide his laughter once his mind, as usual, zeroes in on the exact wrong thing to focus on.

Batman gives him a quizzical stare, still looming over him like a storm cloud of glowering anger. “Usually the only laughing criminal I have to deal with is the Joker,” Batman quips, and that only makes Stiles erupt in more titters.

“I’m sorry it’s just… it’s just I never noticed Batman had bunny teeth,” Stiles chokes out, fully preparing for Batman to deck him. But he can’t, all that darkness and rage and Stiles instantly settled in on the most adorable part of the man, one of the only parts he could really see of his face.

“I’d say you should worry about your own teeth, the dentists at Blackgate aren’t very good at their job.” Batman continues to stare at him, like he’s looking through him to the rather poor graffiti littering the brick wall behind him in the dank alleyway.

Stiles rolls his eyes, hitting the window he was currently jimmying open softly. “Hey, listen Mr. Bats; this is my apartment I’m breaking into. Do I really look like the kind of idiot that would break into an apartment on the shittiest block in the city, during a thunderstorm?” Stiles asks blithely. “Seriously, I’d track rain and mud in everywhere, the police would have no trouble identifying me through shoeprints. And sure the crack of thunder might be all well and good to hide the shatter of glass, and yes the average person on this street is more likely to call their friend to gossip about what’s happening than call the police, but it’s still a terrible target for burglary or petty larceny.”

When the boy finishes rambling Batman isn’t sure what to say, it’s very rare for him to make a mistake when it comes to criminal activity, and while low level crooks aren’t always his M.O. he’d noticed this from the rooftop above and decided to investigate.

“So… are you going to arrest me for breaking into my own apartment or can I get in before I’m actually entirely drenched to the bone? I think my underwear might still be dry if I can get inside soon…” Stiles says, and there’s a smirk on his lips.

“Why exactly should I believe this is really your apartment? And don’t give me the intelligence excuse, because I’ve met some very idiotic criminals in this city,” Batman replies, voice less imposing now, but still skeptical.

Stiles stood for a minute to contemplate what he can say to placate the vigilante on his fire escape. “Ok… how about you let me get inside, then I can prove it’s my apartment? If I can’t then you can take me to the cops, I won’t resist. My dad used to be a sheriff so I have respect for the police. Well, not so much the Gotham PD, but you’re sorta police. I guess,” he laughs.

Batman stills, deciding before giving one short decisive nod.

“Cool, cool, just gimme a sec to work this out,” Stiles answers, holding up a finger as he tried to get the window open. After a few minutes of fumbling Batman pushed him aside and does it himself, almost effortlessly. Stiles turns with a frown, “I almost had it.”

“Sure you did,” Batman deadpans, then motions towards the window. “Now prove it’s your house.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going, don’t sick your pet bats at me man,” Stiles jokes as he ambles through the window, tripping and faceplanting on the rug he’d just bought last week. “You saw nothing!” He calls back behind him as he straightens up and grabs a picture frame on the nightstand.

“See? That’s me, and my dad and my best friend Scott.”

Batman takes the photo and holds it up next to Stiles’ face. “You look different.”

“Well duh! I was like, 18 in that photo. I’m an adult now, my hair grew out, I put on a bit of muscle, or at least I like to think so. I mean it’s nothing compared to all this bondage muscle god stuff you have going on here,” he gestured to Batman’s suit. “Unless are these fake? Did you have abs made into your suit?” He asks, reaching to touch and having his hand slapped away. Hard.

“Fine, I believe you. Why exactly did you break into your own apartment though?” Batman asks almost as an afterthought.

“Oh? Well you see I ordered a pizza because I just got back from night class and I was swamped with work and I just wanted to stuff something into my mouth greasy and cheesy and well, anyway, so I hear the delivery guy pull up so I race downstairs to get it and, well, I forgot my keys. So I end up eating the pizza on the stoop and giving the leftovers to a homeless guy on the corner, and then set about finding something to pry my window open. And then you show up and nearly give me a heart attack. And that’s what you missed on, Glee!” He jokes, cutting off his rambling explanation and staring back. It’s only now he begins to process the fact Batman is in his house, that he’s been talking to the caped crusader for the better part of ten minutes.

Batman huffs, not a laugh, but something akin to mild amusement. “Have a good night and try not to have to break into your apartment again,” he says in that gruff tone.

“Oh this is a weekly occurrence. Why do you think I’m so good at it?” Stiles laughs, pointing finger guns at Batman before thinking better of it.

“Then next time don’t let me catch you,” Batman says, turning and for a moment Stiles thinks he catches the barest hint of a smile before the man grapplehooks away from his fire escape. “Why am I suddenly turned on?” Stiles asks the night, shaking his head and laughing, one hand dragging down his face as he strips and heads for a well-deserved hot shower.`

Chapter 2: Nananananananana Batcave!

“Ah, Mister Hale, you’re home early,” Deaton says blithely, eyes tilting up to meet the gust of wind kicked up by the Batmobile’s entrance.

“Slow night. I think all the villains are either locked up, licking their wounds or out of town,” Derek scoffs, almost sounding offended at the lack of crime.

“Or maybe,” Deaton surmises, standing and crossing towards Derek, “one of your young wards has taken care of things so you can have the night off?”

Derek pulls the cowl off and glowers at Deaton. “Justice doesn’t take the night off. Besides, you know I don’t like them out on their own.” His voice is tinged with a hint of worry, a tone most unusual for Derek aside from speaking of the kids.

“Well you’ll be glad to know Isaac is still here, Vernon took Erica out on a training mission however.” Deaton announced it with the same dispassionate tone you’d use for reading a grocery list.

Derek sighs, rubbing at his eyes and staring back at Deaton. “At least Boyd will likely stay safe,” he says, albeit begrudgingly. “So Isaac is?”

“Asleep I believe. As should you be. Unless you plan on going out and playing the part for tonight?”

Something deep within Derek stings at that, how Deaton so casually lays bare that his public persona, Derek Hale philanthropist and billionaire playboy heir, is all an act. Most nights he thinks Batman is who he truly is and the putting on the mask isn’t hiding his identity, but completing it.

Shaking off the thought he heads towards the gear room, reassembling the costume on its mannequin before taking the proffered robe from Deaton.

“I better turn in actually. Tomorrow is that ribbon cutting ceremony for the new research facility, and the trip to the orphanage, barring no more interruptions.” Both were points of pride for Derek, working on both his persona’s goals at once to improve the city.

“And don’t forget the gala fundraiser tomorrow evening…” Deaton reminds.

“Again, provided there aren’t any nefarious plots afoot.” That makes Derek crack a smile, something Deaton is happy to see.

“Yes, we must be ever vigilant for those dastardly villains,” Deaton deadpans.

“Goodnight Deaton.”

“Goodnight Derek.” Deaton waves him off, going back to his studies.

Derek stops by Isaac’s room and a soft smile spreads on his face. The kid’s wiry, but he has heart. He’s going to need that if he plans on following in the family business of crime fighting.

Sometimes Derek wonders if bringing them into this life was for the best, if he’s not putting them all in more danger than they were before they’d met him, but when he sees how they’ve all grown, Boyd finally having friends, Erica coming out of her shell, and even Isaac no longer skittish and drawn in. That’s how he knows he’s doing something right.

Chapter 3: Disbelief & Deliberation

“You did not meet Batman!” Scott argues from his place on the couch.

“Uh, yeah, I totally did. He nearly arrested me for breaking into my apartment.” Stiles feels personally offended his best friend doesn’t believe him.

Scott gives him that same look of disbelief. “And why would you be breaking into your own apartment? Wait… Never mind, you forgot your keys again right?”

“Yes and since someone…” He looks at Scott, “who shall remain nameless wasn’t home. I had to Jimmy the lock and nearly get carted away by the Gotham knight.”

Scott rolls his eyes again and turns on the T.V. “Say I believe you. Does this mean you might have a new obsession and will stop drooling over Derek Hale? Including this scheme you’ve dragged Lydia into?”

“Please, I dragged her into nothing.” Scott raises an eyebrow. “There was no dragging! Maybe some slight hand tugging and a bit of pleading and volunteering to work at the greenhouse all next summer when I have time but there was definitely no dragging.”

Scott doesn't have time to reply to that because the news comes on and none other than Derek Hale shows up. “Oh no…” Scott sighs; putting his head in his hands before Stiles jumps over the couch and nearly knocks him out of the way

“God he’s so handsome! And generous! He’s such a great guy.” Stiles gushes about Derek as Scott pretends to vomit.

“I hope this ends once you meet him. I don’t want you actually going full stalker mode. I might have to, you know, be concerned for your mental health.” Stiles gives him a look of derision for that.

“Stopping trying to headshrink me Doctor McCall. I have a perfectly normal attraction to and interest in Derek Hale.” Scott snorts at that. “I do! And after this party where I hopefully meet him we’ll fall in love and get married and I’ll live in Hale manor while we have ridiculously hot sex and eat caviar off each other’s chiseled bodies in a bath of champagne.”

“I’m too sober for this… alright, well I have to go home and you know, actually sleep since I have work tomorrow.”

“Have fun at the asylum!” Stiles jokes.

“I told you not to call Arkham that. We’ve rebranded,” Scott rebuts, indignant.

“Look you know my distrust of places like that. Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I like it anymore.”

Scott doesn't argue, just heads out on his own leaving Stiles to his thoughts. Thankfully that means Stiles has time to plan his infiltration of the benefit gala. Of course, even he doesn’t suspect that he’ll actually get seated with Derek Hale and have to try not to make a mockery of himself.

Chapter 4: Revelling & Revelations

The night is going great; for once Derek is actually enjoying this benefit, if only because of the charming man seated next to him. It takes him until halfway through the second course for him to realize where he knows him from, the man he’d caught breaking into his own apartment last week.

He’d known the others manners weren’t befitting the Gotham elite, but ignored it since nouveau riche often immigrated to Gotham to show off to their friends back home. But now he was wondering how the seemingly uncoordinated man he’d stumbled upon had conned his way into one of the most elite functions of high society.

A wry smile split his lips as he watched Stiles regale anyone that would listen with a plethora of facts about history, culture, art, almost any topic he could manage to drag kicking and screaming into the discussion. It seemed the more obscure the better, with Derek even doubting a few of the stories before Stiles offered to Bring up proof on his phone.

“That’s quite alright; I think we all believe you Mr.…?” Derek said, putting a hand over Stiles to stop him getting his surely older phone that might have given him away.

“Stilinski. Mr. Stilinski, but you can call me Stiles,” he said, and the faintest blush seeped into his cheeks at the direct contact between him and Derek. He had to hold it together, because he’d been doing so well distracting himself with rambling.

“Well Stiles I think we’d all love to hear more of your anecdotes, but I hear the band starting up and, well,” Derek stood and offered his hand, “I thought you might care to join me?”

Stiles’ brain may have short circuited for a moment, and his heart not so much tripped as face planted right against his ribs, but he nodded, licking his lips as he took the offered hand and stood. He was smiling, not bidding a second glance back at the table they’d left before following Derek out to the dance floor. “You’ll have to lead, I’m not the best dancer, of course I’m sure that’ll be no problem for you and…” He quieted as Derek put a finger to his lips.

“I’ll lead, don’t worry,” Derek said, smiling what at first seemed to be the same vapid, guileless smile he always wore plastered on his face at these events, but slowly began to morph into something real.

They danced for a few songs, Stiles only stepping on Derek’s toes once after the first song. They’d both focused on the movement of their bodies, of keeping time and flowing with the other dancers that there was little room to talk until a slower number came on after the third song. “I know you’re not supposed to be here,” Derek said, a smirk crossing his lips as Stiles nearly stumbled, Derek quickly turning it into a dip to save face.

“Oh, really?” Stiles asked, laughing nervously. “And where should I be then?”

Derek thought of the dingy apartment, the rain soaked fire escape and smiled. “Well now I think you should be right… Here,” he said, leaning in as if to kiss him, whispering the words before yanking Stiles back up and into position. “But really, how did you get in here? One year my companies stock fell and I didn’t even get an invite.” Derek was smooth, waltzing them around the floor as he spoke, not even winded. Stiles struggled to keep up, but at least dropping the pretense he belonged would help. He hoped.

“Honest answer? My best friend Lydia, well one of my best friends. Her ex is Jackson Whittemore? She pretty much bribed him to let me in.”

That made Derek pause. “What could she possibly have that Whittemore wanted?”

Stiles grinned, flicking his eyes back and forth. “An introduction to her boyfriend’s twin brother.”

Derek’s eyebrows rose at that, he wasn’t the type for gossip since he rarely spoke to anyone outside of these events, but his family had dealt with the Whittemores in the past. “But isn’t he with that app designer? Mahealani?”

“Oh he is. I should have clarified; he AND Danny wanted an introduction to the twin.”

Derek smiles, not out of any real happiness, but because he should here, and they continue to dance. By the end of the night Derek is, despite a halfhearted attempt at the contrary, thoroughly charmed by Stiles.

The gala finished, Derek walks through the lobby with Stiles, shoulder to shoulder. “So this was… fun,” Derek confesses, not sure when the last time he said that and actually meant it was. Certainly with the kids he thinks, but even then that’s more fun for them than it is him most days.

“I had a great time. Totally worth the bribery,” Stiles replies, laughing not so politely. His eyes trail towards Derek’s lips almost imperceptibly.

“Let’s go out the other way,” Derek interjects, holding up his hand to shield his eyes from the flashing lights of the paparazzi outside. It’s at precisely that moment Stiles looks over and he’s hit by a wave of deja vu.

That jawline, those bunny teeth, the light flickering. It’s so eerily similar that he has to stop for a moment and remind himself it’s preposterous to even consider. It’s just a passing resemblance, that’s all. He’s silent on their way to the back, Derek asking him if he needs a ride home twice before he notices. “Oh, uh, no. No, thank you though,” Stiles says, and it’s only after it’s been vocalized he realizes that he just passed up one of his actual bucket list goals.

It surprises Derek that he’s a bit disappointed by Stiles declining, the offer but he reminds himself that it’s for the best. He’s already gotten entirely too friendly. And sure, keeping up the act as Derek Hale, playboy was a necessity. The problem was by the end of the night Derek wasn’t sure if he had been acting.

“This was… This was honestly one of the best nights of my life,” Stiles finally speaks, running the back of his neck, eye doing something between a twitch and a wink that Derek can’t help but find amusing. “But I’m sure you have plenty of rich people things to do like order a new yacht and build schools in Uganda or something so… I better get going. Thanks for the dancing, and for not ratting me out.”

Derek rolls his eyes at that, huffing a short laugh. “Of all the crime and corruption in this city, I think sneaking into a charity gala is far from the worst thing. Besides I saw you write a check to the charity. I doubt it even covers the price of the entree you had, but it’s the thought that counts.”

Stiles turns red at that, a mixture of embarrassment and something he can’t quite explain. He looks up from beneath his lashes at Derek one last time, smiling. “Well, we can’t all be as righteous as the caped crusader,” he says, and there’s something about the way Derek doesn’t react, almost as if he’s schooling himself not to that sets off alerts in Stiles overactive brain.

“Anyway… I better be going. I’ll see you later. Well, I’ll see you on like, television or a newspaper, you probably won’t see me,” he laughs, chewing on his bottom lip, trying to decide if going for a hug is too much. In the end he settles for an awkward wave before heading down the street and away from Derek.

Derek watches Stiles go, mentally mapping the freckles on his neck, the moles on his cheek, the color of his eyes and the timbre of his voice. He says it’s so he won’t be surprised again if he sees him like he was tonight, but even he isn’t that deluded.

“Goodnight Stiles,” he says, words taken by the brisk night air. He gets in his car and goes home, his last stop before taking his nightly duties.

Across town Stiles sits at his computer with a photo of Derek Hale and a sharpie, practicing drawing Batman’s cowl over it and analyzing how it looks. Beside it there’s written just one thing. “The bunny teeth match.”

Chapter 5: Investigations & Invitations

Stiles convinces himself it’s just a coincidence, that any two people could have similar looking teeth.

Or at least he honestly tries too.

When he can’t get it out of his head he decides he needs more research, and not just looking up photos online. No. He needs to see Derek again up close. And maybe Batman too. But definitely Derek.

And so what if, like Scott says, he’s using this as an excuse to indulge his crush even more. It’s not like Derek didn’t seem at least somewhat interested in him.

Besides, there were some gossip bloggers talking about the mystery man Derek danced with at the gala. He was pseudo famous already; he might as well keep it up.

Lydia wasn’t up for asking Jackson for anymore favors, especially considering him and Danny had absconded with Ethan to a private island somewhere. That meant it was all up to him this time.

When Derek noticed him a real smile split his lips and he moved towards him, abandoning the conversation he’d been feigning interest in without a second thought.

“We meet again,” Derek says, voice low and deep. Not the gravel of Batman, but a seductive timbre reserved for, well, seemingly just Stiles right now.

Stiles had spotted Derek from a ways off, had seen him wading through the crowd and didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t ecstatic.

“So we do Mr. Hale,” Stiles replies, trying to be as seductive in return but not quite managing it.

“So, who did you bribe to get in this time?” Derek asks, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

Stiles’ eyes look back and forth, shifty before leaning in. “I posed as a waiter to get in…”

The deviousness in Stiles should be a red flag, but he in fact finds it charming. Derek deals with so many criminals intent on harming innocents that someone simply sneaking into formal events seems almost wholesome in comparison.

“Why exactly are you sneaking into all these events?” Derek asks, bemused.

“To see you, duh,” Stiles answers immediately and for all Derek is used to telling lies, he genuinely can’t tell if it’s a joke or Stiles being flippantly honest.

After that they talk, they dance, they spend the night in each other’s pocket practically. Derek knows this is more than he’d intended when Stiles tells him he has to leave and he actually grabs his wrist, asking him to stay.

“Sorry, I gotta go. Glass slipper, carriage that’s a pumpkin and, well you know the drill,” Stiles laughs, smiling at Derek.

“I want to see you again…” Derek says before he thinks better of it. And that’s all Stiles needs to hear.

“You will,” he says, quickly pecking Derek on the cheek before slinking off towards one of the exits.

What followed was a series of ever more elaborate and ridiculous ways for Stiles to sneak into charity events to see Derek. He actually started to admire the criminals of Gotham as he noticed how much time and effort it took just to plan something like this, much less a bank robbery or similar crime.

Maybe not their evil deeds, but at least the time and energy it took to plan them out. As he felt more and more certain that Derek really was Batman it only seemed to make those ideas grow.

Derek for his part felt himself drawn more and more to Stiles. In a way he reminded him of some of his villains, not so much in demeanor, but in his intelligence, flamboyance and, increasingly, his ridiculous schemes to get into these parties.

That’s why one day he decides enough was enough, the kids had been badgering him, even Deaton had left cut outs of gossip pages mentioning Derek and his mystery suitor, and he did something he should have done a long time before.

The envelope arrived at his doorstep, or more importantly slipped beneath it late at night. Stiles almost slipped on it as he carried in some blueprints and other equipment he’d gathered for his next gala crash.

When he saw it his heart did a weird flip and he bent with shaky hands to pick it up.

Opening it he took out the glossy embossed card and read it aloud.

“You are cordially invited to attend the Gotham High Society Excellence in Charity awards fundraiser as the guest of Derek S. Hale!”

Stiles nearly passed out reading that, jumping up and down on his couch and whooping with joy. Especially since he was basically being asked out by Derek Hale. By Batman.

They’d spent a lot of time together, even if it was just at these dinners, but he'd gotten to know Derek. Gone were the days he marveled at his beauty, at his accomplishments and wealth, even just his philanthropy.

No, now Stiles couldn’t get the look of determination Derek had when talking about turning Gotham around, the way his lips quirked in a smile like they weren’t used to it but wanted to be, the scent of his cologne or the way his body felt pressed close during a dance out of his head.

He realized that he was falling for Derek and maybe, just maybe, Derek was, as impossible as that seemed, falling for him too.

Chapter 6: The Dark Night

The date is everything Stiles wished for and more. Derek arrived with a perfectly tailored suit for him to wear that complemented what the other man was wearing.

The paparazzi were a surprise, even if Stiles should have expected it, what with him arriving on the arm of the wealthiest man in town. Still it was hard to fathom anyone might want his photo. But then Derek would look back at him, smiling that gorgeous smile, those ever present bunny teeth on display, and he’d forget about anything else.

They danced, they talked, they ate expensive food and drank expensive wine. It was the perfect date. A night to remember for sure. He felt their bond growing, every ridiculous thing he did seemed to only charm Derek more.

Derek knew he was falling hard, knew that Stiles was more than just a date, than just a fling. Tonight wasn’t meant as a test, but Stiles was passing anyway. Yes, this wasn’t his life, not his real life, but with Stiles by his side sometimes, for a few moments, he felt like it was. Like it could be.

For those brief seconds Derek would forget the other part of himself, just a moment, and be this part of him. Live this life, with Stiles, and it was terrifying and wondrous all the same.

It would never be who he was, not fully, but maybe if he had Stiles; it would anchor him to this life. Keep it from slipping away until all he was, was the cowl and the cape. And the thing that scared him most was that he wanted it. For the first time since he’d adopted the kids, he saw a chance at normalcy, at love, at things he had denied himself so long, and his hands itched to grab it and hold on for dear life.

The night wound down, and Derek led Stiles to a secluded spot. “Thank you for being my date,” he said, all charm and class, holding Stiles hand the same way he’d done all night. Except now it felt different, charged.

“Thank you for inviting me. It was a nice change not having to concoct some elaborate plan to sneak in. But I would have, to see you,” he laughed, knuckles grazing Derek’s cheek, staring into his eyes.

Derek stared at him and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He kissed him, hands cupping his cheek and the side of Stiles neck, lips pressed against his. It was chaste at first, soft but passionate, but then Stiles pressed further, deepening it, letting their tongues dance. And Derek had to admit, Stiles tongue was a much better dancer than his feet.

“Let me take you home…” Derek breathed, eyes locked with Stiles as he held him close.

And this time when Derek offered him a ride he didn’t decline. They sped off in his luxury car, but they weren’t headed towards Stiles’ place. They pulled up at a high rise penthouse and Stiles had to crane his neck to look to the topmost floors.

“This is yours, isn’t it?” He breathes, staring up before glancing back at Derek.

“It is. You want to come up? The view of the city is… Amazing.” Derek smiles, and he knows Stiles is going to say yes, knows that this night is leading somewhere he never anticipated, but can’t stop.

“I’d like nothing more,” Stiles said, and he took Derek’s hand and ran off towards the building.

They wasted no time once they were in the elevator, bodies wound around each other, lips clashing. Derek’s suitcoat hit the floor first, followed closely by Stiles jacket and then his tie.

When they reached the top floor Stiles already had one leg wrapped around Derek’s back, shirt unbuttoned giving Derek easy access to lick and bite at the cluster of freckles at the juncture of shoulder and neck.

Derek hiked the other leg around him, effortlessly carrying Stiles through the penthouse and towards the bedroom, never breaking contact.

They fell over the side of the bed, kicking their shoes off as they made out, hips grinding together. There was no need to ask, the desire was clear in their gaze, in the heated touch.

Stiles hands went underneath Derek shirt, rucking it up to feel the warm muscle, the chiseled abs. When Derek pulled it all the way off he licked his lips as he stared at the shock of chest hair, his mouth darting up to lick and nibble at a nipple.

Derek groaned, the noise rough and uncontrollable as his hand carded Stiles’ hair. He rocked his hips, desire clearly evident before pulling back.

Standing up he quickly undid his belt as Stiles the same. His pants fell to the floor, leaving Derek in just his tight black briefs, a designer label of his own brand that left very little to the imagination. Even one as wild as Stiles’.

For his own part Stiles had flannel patterned trunks on beneath his suit, kicking his pants onto the floor for Derek to brush aside.

Derek toed off his socks before climbing into bed over Stiles. They kissed for what felt like hours, trading positions as Stiles rolled on top, slotting their hips perfectly to rut against each other’s thigh.

When Derek finally rolled Stiles onto his back again and began to kiss down his jaw, his neck, towards his chest and abs Stiles’ body shuddered in anticipation. Derek stilled, kissing a line along Stiles waistband before the other man nodded. A grin split Derek’s lips and he hooked his fingers in the fabric, slowly tugging it down, kissing his way all down Stiles thighs and legs before tossing the underwear away.

He planted kisses back up Stiles firm legs, across both his thighs before coming to rest between them. Derek smirked as best he could as he heard Stiles whimper and moan at his ministrations, looking up to catch the way the flush spread from his cheeks down to his pale chest, only covered by a smattering of hair there.

Stiles fingers curl into Derek’s hair at the same time his other hand clutches the sheets. “Fuck!” He groans, feeling on edge already. He’s almost relieved when Derek pulls away to slip that last piece of cloth off.

Now Stiles has never thought little of himself in the bedroom, but seeing Derek in all his glory he realizes it’s not just Derek’s endowment for the arts that is sizable. He bids Derek to straddle his chest, and once he does so reaches up to take him in his mouth. Stiles allows Derek to set the pace, his hands on the man’s well defined cheeks, keeping it steady.

“I wish… I wish we could…” Derek moans, trying desperately to embed the image of Stiles like this in his mind, even as his eyes try to clench shut in pleasure.

Pulling off, Stiles uses his hand for a moment as he looks up at Derek. “We can.”

“But… are you…? Because I’m not…” Derek trails off, tips of his ears pink.

“Yeah,” Stiles answers, “I mean I wasn’t expecting but… a man can dream right?”

Derek laughs at that, bending down to kiss Stiles, playful and overjoyed. He reaches to the nightstand, grabbing what they need as the lovers continue to kiss and caress, bodies pressed together in sensuous bliss.

He opens Stiles easy, pace languid and relaxed. When he’s ready, Derek kisses him, makes sure he’s comfortable before taking his place between his thighs. Stiles pulls Derek into a fiery kiss, gasping into his mouth as his body accepts Derek inside. They make love slowly, gently at first, like nothing either has ever experienced with another.

Derek caresses him, soft and gentle in a way neither of them expected. As he moved within Stiles, the younger man quiets for the first time in the night. Of course, Derek should have known it wouldn’t last for long.

“Shit, I can’t believe I’m in bed with Derek Hale,” Stiles sighs out on a moan, fingernails dragging down Derek’s back, miniscule red lines tracking behind them.

Derek just huffs out a laugh as he thrusts harder, his lips finding a spot in the hollow of Stiles neck, just above a cluster of freckles and sucking hard enough the bruise.

“Can’t… can’t believe I’m getting dicked down by Batman,” Stiles gasps. “You’re so fucking good, damn!”

It takes a moment to sink in, but once it does Derek stills entirely, bodies still locked together intimately. He stares down at Stiles in shock; face a mask of confusion in the dark of the night, only illuminated by pale moonlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains.

“I’m not Batman,” he says seriously, too seriously he realizes after a beat. “That’s ridiculous!” He laughs, but the sound is hollow, forced. It doesn’t do anything to sway Stiles, not that it would have even if it were believable.

“Yeah, you are…” Stiles finally replies, lying on his elbows to get a better look at Derek. “It’s pretty obvious up close, and makes a lot of sense.”

“I’m not Batman…” Derek repeats; he’d pull away, but Stiles legs are still locked tight around his waist, his hips kissing the man’s supple ass.

Stiles rolls his eyes, chuckling to himself. His hand runs up Derek’s chest, catching on a nipple for a moment before sliding to cup his cheek. “It’s ok; I’m not going to tell anyone. Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me Bats.”

Derek grits his teeth; he’s getting angry now because this is the closest anyone has gotten in a long time. He’s not sure if it’s the closeness to him or to finding out his identity that he takes most concern with. “I’m NOT Batman!” He says once again, more forceful now.

“See, right there. It’s when you get intense; your voice drops all emotion. Your eyes are analyzing me, like you see through me. I’d know these lips anywhere, your little bunny teeth. You remember? That was the first time I met you, the first thing I noticed up close. And then I met your other half, Derek Hale, and it was the first thing I noticed then too. Some five o’clock shadow, a fake smile and a tailored suit doesn’t change what I can see.”

Stiles’ smile is soft, knowing as he looks at Derek. “Besides whoever is Batman has all these gadgets and cars and shit. They’d have to have a lot of money. They’d need to be in insanely good shape. They’d have to be free to do whatever they want without people watching their movements. It all adds up, I was surprised it took me so long to put it together and actually believe it... And then when I did, well, I wanted you to know you could trust me Derek. That I wouldn’t rat you out. I care about you, what you’re doing for this city is something great. It’s a burden you didn’t need to put on yourself, not with all that you already do outside of the cape. But you do it anyway.”

Derek should leave. He should deny it again, get up and never look back, but all he can see is earnest concern and affection in Stiles’ eyes. All he can feel is the same pull that drew him here tonight growing stronger. For all that could go wrong, the little part of him that is Derek Hale the man and not Batman yearns for something normal. Something that’s all his, and not his counterpart’s, and maybe, just maybe, that’s Stiles.

Without saying another word Derek dives in for a kiss, passionate and deep. His tongue twists around Stiles, battling for dominance before Stiles gives as good as he gets and they find a sensuous balance. His hips pull back before snapping forward, the moan that rolls off Stiles’ tongue and down Derek’s throat a small victory.

He pushes Stiles to his limits, tests his own endurance and keeps him occupied as much out of genuine desire as to stymie the other man’s incessant chatter. For all his playboy status Derek doesn’t indulge in these carnal delights often, but even he can’t deny this is the best he’s ever had.

Stiles is the best he’s ever had.

When it’s over, when their bodies are stuck together from more than just sweat, he doesn’t leave like he usually would. Derek stays; he looks at Stiles and for once really sees him, for all his parts and not just as a potential threat, as another mark, as a citizen he has to protect, but as something else. Something hard to define for someone like him, but so important he can’t ignore it.

When he finally rolls off, Stiles is still riding the tail end of his high, sated and fucked out, a bit exhausted but in the best way possible. He turns to speak and Derek puts a finger to his lips. “Tomorrow, please… let me just sleep next to you. I don’t want to ruin this.”

Derek’s voice is softer than Stiles has ever heard it, cautious, optimistic he thinks. It makes him smile and nod, licking the man’s finger playfully before cuddling closer.

Stiles rests his head on Derek’s chest, fingers scratching at the hair there. His lips kiss one firm pectoral, soft and delicate. A smile crosses his lips as he looks up at Derek once more before settling down. It doesn’t take long for Stiles to drift off to sleep, one leg thrown over Derek casually. What’s most surprising is how fast Derek falls asleep with Stiles in his arms. How easy it is to let the rest of the world fall away, to quiet that nagging voice in his mind and for Derek to just relax into the bed, close his eyes, and sleep restfully for the first time in a long time.

Chapter 7: A Bright New Day

Stiles wakes up slowly, fingers clenching around empty air and bed sheets. A disgruntled noise bubbles up from his throat and his eyes flutter open, blinking against the first rays of light. When he finally can see he notices Derek is missing and his heart drops, only to turn his head to the window and notice Derek is still there.

He stands in all his glory in front of the full length window, gloriously toned ass on display as he looks out across the city.

Derek doesn’t move to turn around, but he says “good morning” all the same.

Stiles sits up in bed, still luxuriating in the downy blankets, relieved Derek isn’t gone after last night.

“Morning Derek,” he says, a soft smile spreading on his cheeks. He slips out of bed and walks up behind Derek, letting his arms encircle the slightly broader man, resting his head between those sculpted shoulder blades.

One hand comes to rest over Stiles’, holding it firm to his middle. Derek smiles, starting slow and cautious before relaxing into something deeper, something open and honest. He turns in Stiles arms, cupping his cheeks and kissing him.

It’s delicate, not like the steamy, impassioned kisses of last night, and not like the cautious and reserved kisses before sleep. No, this is something entirely different.

“I think I’m falling in love with you…” Derek whispers against Stiles lips, feels the other man smile as they kiss.

“I think I’ve been in love with you,” Stiles answers, his hand sliding up Derek’s toned back, feeling the expanse of smooth muscle as he pulls back just enough to look into his eyes. “I’m in love with all of you Derek. You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

It still catches Derek off guard how simply Stiles puts it, like him being Batman is just another night job. The absurdity of that make him laugh, a low chuckle that has him shaking his head.

“I know you are. And I… I don’t want to hide anymore, at least not from you. But there is so much about my life you don’t know, so much to learn, to deal with. There is danger, for me and my family, for those in love if who I really am ever got out. You will… you will worry about me when I’m gone, and I don’t know if you’re ready to deal with this Stiles.”

Stiles makes an offended noise at that, smacking Derek’s chest lightly. “Derek, my dad was a cop. You think I don’t know what it’s like to worry that someone you love might not make it home each night? Yes, I’ll be worried, and I’m sure there is a lot I don’t know. But one thing you should know is that when you love someone, you’re always afraid for them. That doesn’t mean you stop loving them, it means you love them more, love them harder, keep them close and enjoy every minute because you never know when it could be your last. And as for learning, well, I’m a quick study.”

Derek shakes his head, casting his eyes away before he’s pulled right back to those whiskey eyes. “How? How can you make me feel this way after all this time? Like maybe, like maybe Batman doesn’t have to be the only side of my life. Like maybe there can be more…”

“Because I’ve totally fallen for you Derek Hale. Batman. Whichever moniker you want to use, I’m here. I know what it’s like to lose family, to feel powerless. I know what it’s like to see the law fail, to wish for someone or something to bring justice where it’s deserved. I may not be able to understand everything about you, not yet anyway, but I know what’s inside here,” he rests a hand over Derek’s heart, “and I want to know more. I want to know everything. I will never try to change you or make you stop your mission. All I ask is to be allowed to come along for the ride Derek.”

And that’s all it takes. He thought it would be harder, impossible even for someone to break down his walls, to make him feel this way. But Stiles is a master of the impossible, and even if he knows it will take time, that there will be bumps along the way, he can’t imagine anyone else trying so hard for him. Can’t imagine feeling this way about another person.

“Come home with me. Meet my family, see the Hale mansion,” he says on a whim, surprising himself.

Stiles eyes light up and he's nodding before he can even speak. “I’d love to!” He says, kissing Derek excitedly. “Waiiiiiiiit, does this mean I get to see the Batcave?!”

Derek should have expected that. He just laughs and kissed Stiles, heading him towards the shower.

“No, seriously, I want to see the Batcave. I’ve heard stories…”

“Play things cool and I might even let you inside the Batcave,” Derek laughs.

“Well you’ve already been in my Batcave, I think it’s only fair I’m returned the favor,” Stiles teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

Derek raises his own in response, giving him a skeptical look before breaking into a grin. “I’d like for you to come in my Batcave. Both of them.” He smirks and winks at Stiles and it’s probably the dorkiest and hottest thing he’s ever heard.

As they get in the shower, hands exploring each other’s bodies as their mouths do the same, the water cascades over them.

“I love you Derek,” Stiles whispers.

“I love you too Stiles,” Derek answers, and he knows it’s true. And for the first time in a long time Derek feels something new, not just love, but hope. For the city, for the future, and most importantly, for himself.

#jeangvrey #stereksanta17 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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rosenwrites · 5 years

Text

Ace in the Hole

Characters: Phuong, Trieu

Suggested Music: A King of Apathy

“Oof!”

Trieu tripped over something on the sidewalk and stumbled forward, but Johann ran the other way and the leash Trieu hung on to pulled him back and helped him regain his footing.

“Whoa, thanks, boy.”

Johann gave a cheerful bark as he waved his tail.

“Trieu, are you okay?” Phuong asked. “What did you trip over, anyway?”

The twins looked down to where Johann was sniffing around. It looked like the head of some sort of mascot or cartoon character. Johann sneezed from sniffing the strange object and retreated back to his owners.

“What the hell is that?” Trieu asked.

Phuong looked around and noticed they were behind the Rogers Centre. “Well, if I had to guess, it might have something to do with today’s baseball game. Oh, and an ambulance just took off.”

Right on Phuong’s cue, an ambulance sped off with its sirens blaring. Standing on the curb were several people in Toronto Blue Jays uniform, watching as the ambulance disappeared from sight. Some of them were holding pieces of an extra uniform in their arms.

“So now what do we do?” One of the Blue Jays asked.

“We find someone else to play the role of Ace.” Another one answered.

“On such short notice? Where are you going to find someone who’s got strength, flexibility, and stamina to do what Ace does?”

The trio were too far away to make out exactly what the baseball team were discussing. Trieu shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s find another path.” Just as the three of them turned around and headed back to the main sidewalk, The Blue Jays turned around and saw them walking away.

“Hey, you two!” One of them shouted.

“Damn it.” Trieu muttered.

Phuong and Trieu stopped in their tracks and turned around to face the people calling to them. Johann sat down and kept his eyes on the approaching strangers.

“Say, young man, this may seem sudden, but how tall are you?” One of the older Blue Jays asked.

“175cm, why? And why are the rest of you staring at me like that? And what’s with those feathery arms and legs you’re holding.”

�� “You’ll have to excuse them. They don’t mean to put you on edge, but as athletes, they can usually tell at a glance when someone is in good shape. I’m Jacob Gibson, by the way. I’m the manager of the Toronto Blue Jays.”

“I’m Tom, and this is my sister Priscilla. Wait, why does it matter if I’m in good shape?”

“That leads us to your second question. You see, the person who plays the part of Ace the Blue Jay just had a freak accident. We had to get the mascot costume off of him in a hurry so the paramedics could take care of him. Now that leaves us without a mascot.”

“Don’t you have a backup in case of an emergency like this?” Phuong asked.

“Our backup actor is out with a broken leg, our second backup is out of the country for a birthday, and our third backup isn’t answering his phone.”

“That’s some incredibly bad luck…” Trieu remarked.

“So now we’re in desperate need of someone to play the role of Ace. Tom, you meet the height requirement, albeit barely. Now the question is whether or not you have the strength, flexibility, and stamina to handle being a mascot.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Mr. Gibson. Tom’s a trained martial artist, so I can assure you he’s in great physical condition.” Phuong chimed in.

“Hey! Don’t tell them unnecessary things!” Trieu glared at his sister while she tried to stifle her giggles.

“That’s great! That’s just what we needed from you! Of course, we’re not asking you to do it for free. We’ll pay you for your help. Double, even! Please, it’s Junior Jays Saturday and all the kids are eager to meet Ace. If not for us, then do it for the kids.”

“The kids…” Trieu hesitated when he heard those words. The Blue Jays all looked at him eagerly awaiting his answer. He tried to turn away from their gaze, but was only met with Phuong’s harsh glare that threatened to erase him on the spot should he refuse. Trieu let out a heavy sigh and resigned himself to his fate.

“Alright, fine, I’ll do it. For the kids. And the money, too! Don’t forget that!”

Everyone cheered when they heard the news. Without a moment to lose, the Blue Jays hurried Trieu to get changed. He passed off Johann’s leash to Phuong before he was spirited away, but soon she was also being escorted along with him, along with Ace’s head which they retrieved. As they hustled through the corridors, Mr. Gibson began to explain to Trieu how he’s supposed to act as Ace the Blue Jay.

“As you know, his name his Ace. He’s six feet tall and light as a feather. His hobbies include watching the Blue Jays on the road, strutting his stuff on the dugout, taking pictures with fellow Blue Jays fans, and helping out in the community. But he’s also got a mischievous side. He’s always hatching up a plan to foil the other team and playfully ruffle the feathers of the visiting team. His bird’s eye helps him catch fly balls and spot opportunities for mischief.”

“Wow, you picked the absolute right person for the role, Mr. Gibson.” Phuong giggled as the thought of her brother acting as himself amused her.

“Ah-ha! I always knew I had an eye for scouting new talent!” Mr. Gibson laughed.

“Don’t encourage him, Priscilla!” Trieu barked back.

“Alright, here’s the locker room.” Just as Mr. Gibson said, they stopped in front of a pair doors and he unlocked both of them. He took all the parts of Ace’s costume and threw them to Trieu. “Hurry up and get changed, Tom. It should be straightforward as to which parts you put on first. If you have any questions, ask the staff.” He shoved Trieu into one of the doors before he had a chance to argue. He then turned his attention to Phuong.

“You get changed, too.”

“Wait, what?” Phuong was taken aback by the sudden development.

“Ace doesn’t talk, so you’ll help him as a narrator of sorts. There’re plenty of new uniforms in there that we give out to kids and parents on Junior Jay Saturdays. Find one your size and get changed.”

Phuong handed Johann’s leash to Mr. Gibson and kneeled down to pet Johann.

“Stay here and be a good boy. I’ll be right back.”

Johann whimpered but did what he was told. Phuong stood back up and waved to her dog as she disappeared to change. A few minutes passed and one of the doors opened up. From out of the changing room stepped out Ace the Blue Jay. With his striking blue beak, soft grey feathers , and well-pressed jersey, he looked as ready to play ball as any of the players standing in front of him. The team all nodded with approval.

“Ugh, this costume is so hot, and it smells, and I can barely see.” Trieu complained.

“Mascots don’t talk, Tom.” Mr. Gibson retorted.

Trieu let out a sigh, but then the other door opened up. Phuong stepped out, fully decked out in a Blue Jays uniform. Her ponytail stuck out from the back of her baseball cap and she had applied eye black underneath her eyes. She looked like she was ready to play, too.

“Priscilla here is going to be doing all the talking for you.” Mr. Gibson said.

“Alright, so business as usual, then.” Trieu replied. The team laughed at Trieu’s joke as Phuong gave her brother a playful light punch in the arm.

“Now make your way to the field. The kids are waiting for you, Ace.” Mr. Gibson pushed the twins towards their destination. “Priscilla, lead him to the field. Just walk down this corridor and take the second left.”

Suggested Music: Sandlot Baseball

Phuong took Johann’s leash with one hand and Ace’s feathered hand with the other and marched down the corridor, hurrying along to greet the eager children waiting for them. They followed Mr. Gibson’s instructions and soon found themselves out in the field of the Rogers Centre, where several children and their parents crowded around the Blue Jays mascot. They all clamoured to shake Ace’s hand while the parents snapped photos. Ace did his best while being pulled in all different directions before Phuong stepped in to organize the kids.

“Okay kids; let’s get in a single line for your photo op! Ace needs some space to stretch his wings, after all.” The kids listened to Phuong without objection and formed a single line with their parents, with some of them even petting Johann as they waited their turn. Ace shot a thumbs-up in her direction to show his thanks, even though he was still being yanked and pulled in all directions like an oversized plushie. Despite that, Ace managed to pull off some stylish poses for the photos, which made the children laugh and cheer. Even some of the Blue Jays players who were practicing joined in on the photo op. Ace posed with the players along with the children and the cameras kept flashing. Even Phuong and Johann got in for some of the photos.

From the Kansas City Royals dugout strolled out a lion mascot whose mane was shaped like a royal crown. A light went off in Phuong’s head and she dashed to the Blue Jays dugout and grabbed the phone. She asked one of the Blue Jays something, but Ace could not hear it from so far away.

Suggested Music: Welcome to the Jungle

A few moments later, “Welcome to the Jungle” started playing throughout the stadium. The lion mascot stopped in his tracks on the pitcher’s mound. He looked around. Suddenly, he broke out into dancing. The kids turned around. They all pointed and got all excited as Phuong and Johann joined the group again.

“Sluggerrr’s here!” The children laughed and cheered as Sluggerrr put on a spectacle with his dancing. The kids dashed to him and formed a circle around him, enjoying the show. Sluggerrr stopped and pointed to Ace and waved him over. Ace raised his hands to his beak in surprise before pointing to himself. Sluggerrr nodded his head with great enthusiasm. With Phuong guiding him by the hand, Ace jogged to the pitcher’s mound and high-fived Sluggerrr with his free hand. As the music continued to play throughout the stadium, the two mascots began dancing in tandem. The circle of fans clapped in tune with the music as Ace and Sluggerrr has their dance-off. Many of the parents, along with Phuong, snapped photos of the blue jay and lion. The kids joined in on the action and the mascots took turns lifting them up in their arms, exchanging high fives and even bopping Sluggerrr on the nose and Ace on the beak, complete with exaggerated painful reactions.

The shenanigans continued until it was time for the opening pitch. Everyone returned to their seats in the stands, and Phuong and Johann got complementary seats behind the plate. Ace strolled through the stands, cheering on the Blue Jays alongside the fans and taking pictures with them. Ace even came down to where Phuong was sitting to take a picture with her. The baseball game concluded with a 7-5 victory for the Blue Jays. The trio made their way back to the changing rooms, where Mr. Gibson arrived after they finished changing back to their street clothes.

Suggested Music: Quiet Talk

“How’d you know that ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ is one of Sluggerrr’s favourite songs?” Mr. Gibson asked.

“He’s a lion. King of the jungle. Welcome to the Jungle. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.” Phuong answered.

“Well, that was exhausting.” Trieu sighed. “I lost count of how many times I’ve been punched by kids today.”

Mr. Gibson laughed as he handed Trieu an envelope. “Well, hopefully this will take the edge off. You two really helped us out. Thank you.”

“We had a lot of fun today.” Phuong bowed slightly as she said that. The twins and their dog made their way to the exit as Trieu pocketed the envelope he received. They left the Rogers Centre and continued with their walk and stopped and waited for the traffic light to change. There was a large outdoor television nearby, and it was tuned in to the local news station, where they were covering recent actions of the White Dragon. Phuong glanced at it before turning back to Trieu, looked at him for a moment, and giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Trieu asked.

“I was just thinking; no matter what persona you take on, you always go out of your way to help people, even if you complain about it along the way.” Phuong replied. The light changed and they were free to cross. Trieu scratched his head trying to figure out what Phuong meant as they passed by the outdoor television, with the headline “White Dragon foils potential shooting” at the bottom center of the screen.

#phuong tran #trieu tran #rosen writes

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