#im not getting over this. he WALKED INTO LAURS ROOM. KISSED HIM. AND WALKED OUT. followed by an angry Garroth 😭😭

[bread-squid-uwu]

Added Gene into our sims 4 mystreet save, and obviously the first thing he does with autonomy is kiss Laurance in front of Garroth, then get into a fist fight with Garroth over it.

He's fully despised by Garroth, with the "furious" and "grudge" sentiments.. he won the fight though. Somehow.

And he's classed as "enemies with benefits" with Laurance?? They've got a 100% pink romance bar, but a NEGATIVE 100% friendship bar... my god this is messy.

Honestly I think the ONLY sim that doesn't despise Gene in some way is Dante, even then it's classed as "disliked" 😭

[buckyskorpion]

tess brain go hnnnnnnngh

hello this is only thing ive written in like a week and its for a new fic im SORRY but i thought i would post it anyway bc i have nothing else to offer hehe. it’s the beginning of my fic for laur’s writing challenge and boy oh boy has this morphed into it’s own beast. under the cut for those who dont care

“You know she’s not going to be happy about this,” Sam says.

“She’s never happy about anything,” Bucky replies. He flicks at a photograph pinned to your corkboard, your arm around some guy kissing your temple while you grin at the camera. There’s a bunch of photos just like it with the same dude; receding hairline, squinty blue eyes, tall but skinny in a vaguely malnourished way. One photo from what looks like a Halloween party catches his interest. You have a cardboard sign hanging over your shoulders to look like a square from the periodic table, and it reads ‘AH! The element of surprise’. Nerds, Bucky thinks with a scowl, and turns away from the corkboard.

Your office is nothing like he thought it would be, and that aggravates him. It’s hardly surprising - most things about you aggravate him. You have statues of Star Wars characters on your desk, a dying pot plant in the corner, books on quantum mechanics and Deutsch propositions left open and scribbled in on the coffee table. There’s too much personality left carelessly lying around, and none of it is yours. Bucky can’t wait to get the hell out of here.

Sharon walks in first, closing the door softly behind her and shoots them both a grimace. “She’s coming, but, uh- she’s not happy about this.”

“See?” Sam says, gesturing to Sharon as if she’s proving his point when Bucky agreed with him. He turns to face Sam lounging in the armchair on the other end of the room and flicks him the finger.

“Let’s try and contain this situation, shall we?” Sharon says. She’s nervous, Bucky notes, moving to stand in the middle of the room and smoothing down non-existent creases in her slacks. She refuses to look at Bucky, and that gives him a bad feeling. “Just listen to her yell for a bit. Bucky - let us do the talking, ok?”

Sharon is still not looking at him. Bucky nods instead of replying, baiting her to glance over, which she does. She trains her eyes on his nose and gives him a frankly insulting smile of recognition, immediately turning back to the door as her face drops. Bucky’s bad feeling intensifies.

Before he can try and figure out why one of the best Agents of SHIELD and former CIA operative can’t seem to pretend everything is fine, the door to the office slams open. It bounces back, smacks you in the shoulder as you storm into the room, and you push it back again with an aggravated shout. Sam rolls his lips together to smother his laugh but Bucky doesn’t bother. You turn a murderous glare onto him, and the shouting begins.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You march up to Sharon and jab a finger in her chest, forcing her back a step. “You gave me this job, why the hell are you coming in here fucking it all up?”

“We have some new developments,” Sharon says, keeping her voice even like she’s trying to placate a feral dog. It does not have the desired effect.

“Ever thought of picking up the phone?” you shout, throwing your hands wide. “Sending a text? A letter? A carrier pigeon? Anything but showing up to my six month long deep cover mission with two of the most recognisable faces on the fucking planet! Really, Sharon? Captain America?”

“She’s right, y’know,” Sam says, smiling through Sharon’s warning glare. “My face is pretty unforgettable.”

“It’s good to see you, Sam” you say, gritting your teeth like it physically pains you to derail your tirade for some niceties. “You should’ve left Barnes at home.”

“I offered to stay in the car,” Bucky says. He smiles, all teeth, and you poke your tongue out at him.

“Do you know how difficult it has been to be stuck here playing dumb with this bunch of incels for six fucking months?” You say, spinning away from Sharon now to open the small fridge in the corner. You pull out one of those mini bottles of whiskey and down half of it, baring your teeth at the sting. “Please don’t make it all for nothing or I will kill you all, and then myself.”

“The timeline has moved up,” Sharon says. She shakes her head when you offer her the rest of your whiskey and you shrug, chugging the remaining half. Sam makes an offended noise and you grab another one, chucking it towards him as he makes grabby hands. Bucky doesn’t even bother asking.

“That’s funny, because as far as I remember it’s me who sets the timeline,” you say. “And I say it’s staying exactly the fucking same.”

“Look, I know this has been a rough mission-“

“Rough? I am watching a bunch of psychopathic virgins reinvent time travel at a snails pace whilst entertaining their neo-nazi purist ideals and I haven’t been able to physically hurt any of them? Rough is an understatement.” you say.

“Sounds terrible,” Bucky says with an eye roll. Everyone in the room turns to glare at him.

“I’d like to see you spend one day with these scumbags,” you seethe, stepping forward with your teeth bared.

“Something tells me it can’t be any worse than having my brain fried by Nazi’s, sweetheart,” Bucky says. You hate when he condescends you like that, and Bucky knows it. You make to throw the empty mini-whiskey bottle at him but Sharon steps in-between you two, holding her hands up with a disappointed frown.

“Bucky, you were supposed to leave the talking to us,” Sharon says. She turns to you and adds, “And you would do well to remember that I’m your boss, agent. I give the orders.”

“Aw, let them fight,” Sam says from the armchair. “It’ll be fun.”

“Enough,” Sharon says. She claps her hands together to regain control of the room, but it’s tenuous. To you, she says, “We need you to speed up __________’s research. Find a way, I don’t care how, but in a month they need to figure out Stark’s theory of time travel.”

“Excuse me?” You glance between Sharon, Sam, and Bucky like someone can offer an explanation but no one does. Incredulously, you say, “I’ve been here slowing them down so they don’t figure it out, and now you want me to- speed them along? Give them the answer?”

“Yes,” Sharon says. Her eyes are saying something else to only you and Bucky aches to know what it is. “Sam and Bucky have come across some new intel that requires the _____ to finish their machine. We need you to help them get there in one month’s time.”

“Am I allowed to know this new, game-changing intel?” you ask. There’s a muscle ticking in your jaw that looks set to explode any second.

“Only that there is someone who is very interested in buying into what the ________ come up with,” Sharon says. “When you’ve completed your mission, you will be fully briefed.”

“Oh, great,” you say with an eyeroll. “I love ambiguity.”

“You’re a spy,” Sam says, staring at you. “That’s literally your entire life.”

“Can we focus?” Sharon asks, shooting Sam a warning glare to which he holds his hands up in a Gesture of innocence. To you, she asks, “Do you understand your mission?”

“No,” you say simply, turning away from Sam to have a silent conversation with Sharon that involves a lot of eyebrow movements. Softly, as if no one else in the room can hear you, you say, “You know why I can’t let them figure it out.”

Sam and Bucky share a look while the two spies in the room have some kind of telepathic argument. It doesn’t seem to last long. Once again, the bad feeling in Bucky’s gut returns when you look to the floor and don’t make eye-contact with any of them again. As per usual in Bucky’s life there are things left unsaid, omitted by silence, and he itches to know what has your shoulders rounding and the fight you always fling around like confetti, dying out as quickly as it flared up.

“The goal remains the same,” Sharon says, “but as I said, the timeline has changed. We will see you in a month or so, agent.”

“I guess you will,” you say. Sam claps you on the shoulder as he walks out and Sharon hands you a dossier with your new mission parameters. Bucky always feels awkward with goodbyes, especially with people he doesn’t particularly like and who don’t like him in return. You glare at your toes and say, “Don’t even think about touching me, Barnes.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks past you and adds, “Don’t fuck it up.”

“You’ll know if I do,” you bite back, just as the door closes behind him. Your words follow him down the hall, past the laboratories blinking with dull red security lights and the fire exit door they left chocked open when they broke in. He doesn’t like the way that sits in his brain. It clunks around, tinkering with things he’d rather leave untouched.

Spies, Bucky thinks. They always find a way to get inside his head.

[screenwritingdyke]

‘I told my sibling that I had a crush on you and in hindsight I should have known that was a bad idea. Anyway I’m so sorry that they tied you up I swear I had nothing to do with it’ AU + Sterek, please?

okay i made this a high school au i hope thats okay! im imagining stiles and derek are 16, laura’s 18, and peter’s like 25. anyway i hope u like it!

Derek really hates the predatory grin Laura’s giving him right now. He had been sitting at the dining room table doing his homework, but now, apparently, he’s sitting at the table being interrogated about his crush. Technically, he could try to lie, but even if Laura wasn’t listening to his heartbeat, she’d make some comment about his ears turning red being a telltale sign that he’s lying.

He shuts his algebra book and slides it and his notebook to the side. Because Laura is Laura, he knows she won’t stop until she manages to squeeze out every last detail from him.

“It’s just a crush, Laur. It’s not a big deal,” he says.

Laura just raises an eyebrow and keeps giving him that sly grin of hers. Derek’s pretty sure that she wouldn’t need to show off her claws and fangs to convince someone that she’s a werewolf; just the way she looks at other people certainly could.

“Not a big deal, hm? That’s not what Peter said.”

Derek can hear Peter chuckle from the kitchen and he rolls his eyes. “Who even cares about what Peter says?”

“You, for one,” Laura points out. “Just tell me about her. Is she cute?”

Derek shifts in his chair and avoids eye contact with Laura. “It’s not a her,” he says after a few moments.

Laura’s grin softens and she reaches over to rest her hand on top of his. “Tell me about him, then.”

Peter pops out of the kitchen with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me? It’s not that cello girl?” he asks.

Derek shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “No. I’m fairly certain you’re more interested in her than I’ll ever be.”

Peter sneers. “Oh, please. Sixteen-year-old girls aren’t my type.”

“That’s because their frat boy older brothers are your type.” Laura gives him a knowing look and Derek whips his head around to look at him.

Peter’s actually blushing and it’s then that Derek decides he never wants to know anything about his uncle’s personal life. Ever.

“Keep your mouth shut,” he mutters. Peter gives her the middle fingers before traipsing off to his bedroom.

Derek looks back over at Laura and raises a brow. “Do I want to know?” he asks.

“Depends. Do you want to know about our uncle’s sexcapades?” she says, shrugging.

Derek shakes his head immediately. “No. Definitely not. And I don’t want to know how you know about his sexcapades, either.”

Laura chuckles and shrugs. “Stop thinking about that. Tell me about this boy you’re crushing on.”

He had been hoping she’d forget about that. Derek groans and slumps in his chair. “He’s just this guy in my grade. Like I said, it’s not a big deal.”

“If he was just some guy and if it’s not a big deal, then your heartbeat wouldn’t have risen like it just did.”

Derek leans forward onto the table to rest his head in his hands and groans. “His name is Stiles,” he grumbles after a few moments. “He’s Sheriff Stilinski’s son.”

Laura cocks her head to the side and Derek just knows what she’s about to ask next. “His name is Stiles Stilinski?” she asks. “What kind of name is that?” Bingo.

“Stiles is a nickname. His first name is Mieczyslaw,” he explains.

Laura laughs and shakes her head. “Question still stands. What kind of name is that?”

“It’s Polish!”

“Of course it is,” she says, still chuckling. “How do you even know how to say that?”

Derek feels all the blood rush to his face and ears and he’s quiet for a moment. “I looked it up online.”

Laura’s laughing again and Derek has the sudden urge to disappear. “Oh, you are too cute, Der. That’s dedication.”

He leans forward to rest his head in his arms on the table. “Shut up, Laura. It’s not even that hard to say.”

She reaches forward to take his hand and she squeezes. “Hey, he’d be lucky to have you as a boyfriend. It’s just my job as your older sister to tease you.”

He looks up to see her giving him one of her warm smiles, one that doesn’t give him nightmares. “I don’t even know if he likes guys,” he says after a few moments.

“I can think of a few ways to find out.”

Derek’s eyebrows twist in confusion and he’s fairly certain he doesn’t want to know what sorts of plans she has in mind. “Just let me handle it, alright? I can do it.”

Laura gets up from her chair and comes around to his side of the table to ruffle his hair. “Never be afraid of asking for help, Der. You have a big sister for a reason.” She steals a sip of his Coke before heading upstairs to her room.

Not for the first time that night, Derek presses his face into his arms and groans.

-----

It’s been a couple weeks since Laura’s visit home from college and there’s been no mention of Stiles from her. In fact, Derek’s feeling pretty confident, or maybe just a little too hopeful, that she’s forgotten about Stiles. But then he comes home from basketball practice one Friday to see her lounging on the couch reading Cosmo. She never comes home this often during the school year.

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he slings his backpack onto the floor. He joins her on the couch and sticks his feet in her lap because he knows she hates it.

Laura rolls her eyes and shoves his feet away. “You stink like sweaty, teenage boy.”

“I am a sweaty, teenage boy,” he says, smirking.

“I know. You disgust me.”

Derek laughs and scoots closer to her. “Love you too, Laur.”

She smiles and slings an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer and kiss the top of his head.

“Seriously, though, what are you doing home?” he asks. “We don’t have another pack thing for another couple weeks.”

“I have a surprise for you,” she says.

Derek’s fairly certain his apprehension is tangible. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?” he asks.

“You’ll see.” She stands from the couch and looks back at him once she gets to the front door. “Are you coming or not?”

Derek nods and springs up from the couch to follow her out the door. “Where exactly are we going?”

Laura just shrugs and continues walking through the preserve. “You’ll see.”

After about five minutes of walking, Derek can finally see a couple figures in the distance by a tree. He tilts his head up a bit to try to catch a scent. There’s the familiar scent of Peter -- cedar-scented soap, cotton, expensive cologne, and general wrongdoing -- and another scent he’s spent far too much time memorizing: Axe shampoo, the microwaved bacon he eats for breakfast, a little bit of sweat, and general homeyness. It’s the unmistakable scent of Stiles.

Derek bursts into a run and Laura’s on his heels. He gapes in horror when he reaches the tree; Peter’s tapping away on his phone with Stiles tied up to the tree and duct tape over his mouth next to him. Peter doesn’t even glance up when Derek and Laura approach.

“You kidnapped him?” he roars. Peter finally looks up and he and Laura share a look. Derek looks from one to the other for an explanation. “Is one of you going to explain?” He narrows his eyebrows and crosses his arms.

“You wanted to find out if he liked guys,” Laura says, shrugging. “And Peter said he had a plan.”

Derek turns to look at him and Peter just smirks. “Just helping out my favorite nephew. You should thank me.”

Derek lets out a low growl and Laura takes that as a sign to leave. She grabs Peter’s arm and nods toward the house. “Let’s just give them some time together.” Peter rolls his eyes, but, thankfully, lets himself be dragged away by her.

Derek immediately rips the duct tape off of Stiles’ mouth and begins untying him. He knows his face is probably as red as a tomato and he braces himself for the barrage of insults and threats he knows Stiles is about to unleash.

“Your weird siblings kidnapped me to find out if I liked guys?”

Derek raises an eyebrow and looks up at him. Stiles seems surprisingly calm for someone who had just been kidnapped and tied to a tree. He mostly just looks confused and Derek can’t really blame him for that. He shrugs and just keeps working on the rope.

“Peter’s my uncle, not my sibling,” he mumbles.

“So...your weird uncle and sister kidnapped me to find out if I like guys?”

Derek huffs and lets the rope fall to the ground once it’s all untied. “Yeah. I guess. Look, I didn’t ask them to do that, okay? I’m sorry. I had no idea they were even up to something.”

Stiles rubs at his wrists and then runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, if you wanted to know if I’m into dudes, there are easier ways you could’ve done it,” he says.

Derek shoves his hands into his back pockets and looks anywhere except at Stiles. “I didn’t ask them to do this.”

“Well, I do, for the record.”

He finally looks over at Stiles and cocks his head to the side. “You do?”

Stiles rubs at the back of his neck and nodes. “Yeah. And, uh, one guy in particular. And if I’m reading the situation right, I think he might be into me too? Otherwise, this is a lot of effort just to find out if some random guy is into guys you know?”

Derek’s eyebrows raise in shock. “You’re telling me that you like me even after my sister and uncle kidnapped you and tied you to a tree and you could very well press charges against them.”

Stiles just grins and shrugs. “Stranger things have happened.”

Derek just shakes his head. He tries to hide his grin, but fails. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“So? You seem to be into it,” Stiles says, waggling his eyebrows.

Derek shrugs and nods toward the house. “Do you want to come inside or something? I can make food or something,” he says. “Anything to make up for all this.”

Stiles falls into step alongside him as they make their way back to the house. “I’ll take you up on that. If you make food just as well as you play basketball, I’m definitely not turning down an offer like that.”

Derek smiles and laces his fingers with Stiles’. When Stiles gives his hand a squeeze, his heart skips a beat. Back home, he ignores all the smirks and knowing looks from Peter and Laura and the rest of his family. All that matters is Stiles and they way they feel for each other.

read on ao3

feel free to send me a prompt

thanks for reading!!!