seen from Japan
seen from Germany
seen from Singapore
seen from Singapore
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Philippines
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bosnia & Herzegovina
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Singapore
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Ireland
As promised, Treven was pulling up in his Firebird about ten minutes later. He had his windows rolled down and he poked his head out, offering his brother a grin. "Ready to go?"
Stiles jumped up and headed for the car. "No," he called. "I'm just hanging on the steps for fun." He climbed into the car. "Hey, brother."
[Text]: I'm well aware I'm the best. [Text]: is a taco salad out of the question for him?
[text] such humility. [text] I guess we could allow that.
[Text]: As helpful as always, little brother. [Text]: We can get burgers and fries for lunch, pick up some tacos for dinner.
[text] I'm the best little brother. [text] Sweet. And okay you're the best big brother too. Cause burgers and tacos. [text] We're not telling dad.
[Text]: I can pick you up. Where you wanna eat?
[text] I just want burgers, man. And fries. [text] No. Wait. Tacos? [text] Man, you pick.
Games (for your headcanons)
Maybe it was because of the age difference, Stiles thought, or their mom's illness, or the simple fact that Stiles was like his dad and Treven was more like their mom. Stiles wasn't sure. But the fact was, he didn't have many stories about his childhood with Treven.When Allison and Lydia asked about his big brother he realized all he really could tell them was stuff he knew in the present. The music store, how many guitars he owned, the new apartment he had. But not much from when they were younger. No fights. No pranks. No playing hide and seek, or tag, or baseball.It probably shouldn't bother him- for all the stated reasons those games probably didn't happen, which were perfectly reasonable. And after all he had Scott. But it does. Which, he decided, was something that should be fixed. "Once a week?" Treven asked, fingers still plucking lazily at the guitar in his lap.Stiles made a face. "Yes. Once a week.""Game night?" he asked.Stiles missed the the half smile on his brother's face, taking small joy in winding his little brother up."You're making it sound weird and nerdy," Stiles complained. Not that he wasn't weird and nerdy, and not that game night with your adult brother wasn't weird and nerdy."Like video games?" Treven asked, hitting a particularly off string."Oh my god, whatever games. Movies. Hanging out. You know, brother stuff? Baseball!" He was gesticulating wildly with his hands and the pretend swing at a pretend ball was such bad form Derek would have swatted at his ass and taken the bat from him. But still. "Get to know your brother time." He was feeling stupider by the moment."You don't play baseball.""Dude!" he practically shouted, about to walk away and forget he ever tried this."I mean you don't play baseball and neither do I. But maybe some hoops?"Stiles obviously didn't bother to say Derek was teaching him baseball. Maybe he could convince Derek to teach him basketball too? He didn't want to totally suck in front of his brother."Okay," Stiles agreed, and that knot in his stomach that had been there since Lydia and Allison had questioned him finally began to soften.
bigbrostilinski replied to your post “[[MOR]”
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Shhhhh!
