Derek worked for everything he ever got, fourth kid down of seven kids, wore Wranglers from Goodwill that weren’t even cool when they were new and his Dad’s hand me down sweaters with patched elbows and his feet were always growing out of his sneakers for a month or two before they scraped together the money for a new pair and there was always enough for food, they were never hungry, but they ate a lot of meatloaf and bean soup and homemade applesauce from when someone his mom knew would give them a bushel of apples every once in a while, and ice cream on special occasions when it was on sale at the grocery and Derek hates rich kids, fucking hates Stiles on sight, sprawled out next to the pool barefoot, reading a brand new textbook that Derek knows for a fact cost $243.50, because he’s been going to the library after he finishes his workstudy shift to get the reading done with the reserve copy which some asshole already highlighted everywhere.
But he needs the money, and the money’s good, because Stiles’ Daddy wants someone to babysit his kid when he’s on campus, thinks it’s useful that Derek’s in a few of Stiles’ classes and said he’d clear it for Derek to be there for the others, like it was nothing, even though Derek’s petition to audit one of them had been turned down flat with no explanation. He’s someone important enough that he’s concerned about Stiles’ security, and the money is good because Stiles has run off every single other body guard he ever hired.
Stiles lifts his head and looks at him coolly, and then turns back to the book, no recognition in eyes at all, even though they’re in a couple classes together. Later, Stiles makes Derek sneak out to the marina and go with him when he takes the boat out, under the moonlit sky.
"Wouldn’t want me to fall in, right?" Stiles says. "You’d lose your meal ticket."
Derek frowns and says nothing, watching Stiles’ confident hands on the wheel, his hundred thousand dollar watch. What a fucking asshole, he thinks.
The boat is named TheClaudia Jean.
BUT WAIT: can we talk about the Sheriff in this situation? (Let’s agree that he’s called the Sheriff because it was the breakout role that led to his stardom and fortune, or, oh, oh, wait, maybe his nickname is the ‘Sheriff of the U.S.’ due to his big-town politics and his small-town charm.)
The Sheriff never meant for Stiles to grow up the way he did––isolated, too smart, all rough edges and gaunt, growth-pained cheekbones––but he’d been a wreck after Claudia died, ruthless, dangerous, not a good person for a kid to be around. He’d only looked away long enough to get control of the drinking and to secure his candidacy, but when he’d looked back, Stiles had suddenly shot up six inches and grown out his hair, developed a smirk cruel enough to cut.
"Don’t worry about me, Dad," he’d say, "I’m just growing up," and it was true, their baby, Claudia’s baby, was all grown up, and the Sheriff didn’t know how to tell him no anymore, how to smack the cigarette out of his hand or shake Stiles back into himself. The Sheriff has made a career out of his competence, but in the face of Stiles’s studied apathy, how poisonous and deep his self-hatred runs, he finds himself fumbling and hamstrung.
When Derek shows up in four of Stiles’s classes, the Sheriff recognizes the name; it’s not exactly unusual, but it only takes a little digging to figure out he’s Talia’s son, one of the Hale brood from the town back in California where the Sherriff’s grassroots career had started. Derek Hale is hungry for more than he’s got, and what’s more, he’s a good kid who’s kept his nose clean, a responsible older sibling. He probably won’t be able to reach Stiles––god knows what can, now that the Sheriff’s lost him for good––but he’ll keep him out of trouble.
ooooh, yes, this made me think of SOME MORE THINGS about it, like that Stiles’ mom was sick for a long, long time, and between flying her around the world to specialists and sanitariums and campaign stuff Stiles ended up spending most of his time with a series of extremely well-paid tutors and nannies, except they didn’t call them that, because Stiles was ten and definitely too old to have a nanny. Stiles got to spend time with his mom, precious weeks when she was doing better and he could eat dinner in her room or even go for a walk with her, but most of the time she was too weak or in too much pain or not even there, with Stiles’ father in Geneva or Cape Town or Seoul, consulting another specialist, and Stiles was in the big house at home, eating grilled cheese sandwiches the chef made for him. Everyone felt sorry for Stiles, and they spoiled him a little—it wasn’t malicious, but his mother was dying, what did it matter that he owned too many video games, that he went to too many movies, that no one ever made him eat vegetables. He worked hard on his homework, he always said please and thank you, he realized when he was twelve that almost everyone he knew was paid to spend time with him, paid to be kind.
Please spread this shit like wildfire. People go on and sit through the whole experience and they’re uncomfortable because they just want to please their partner and they don’t tell them that they want to stop because they are not ready. It’s okay not to be ready.
notice here that consent is revoked without ever saying no and consent goes so far beyond yes/no!!!!!!
Got the proofs for two of my new Doodlebooks today! There is a new Sherlock one and a new mixed fandom one. I wasn’t sure if I would print the second one because I wasn’t sure if people would be interested in it, but since people seemed sort of interested in the polling I did earlier, I decided to do a small run of it to see how it goes.
The Sherlock book has art in it posted after the last book up to a couple days ago~ There is a mix of platonic and Johnlock art, and a couple RPF bits and etc.
The mixed fandom book has all my Hobbit, Free!, and Hannibal art, as well as several artworks from random fandoms heh.
Both books are mostly sfw. They’ll only be for sale at cons (list of cons I’ll be attending will be posted in the next couple months, as well as pricelists).