#sam x scotty

[yaoicarus]

im sure this is what happened during the 8 hearts event

[ashyy-slashyy]

idk if ur taking requests anymore AND if ill be annoying for asking this buuut could u draw ash x scotty pleasee : 3

hi..... yes i can.......and ur not annoying at all they were absolutely boyfriends. thereferenceforthiswasthatonehomoerotickeanureevesphotoshootokbye

[skyguywrites]

scotty & sam | michael b jordan & courtney eaton.

m/f. gym buddies. friends to lovers. mutual crushes. oblivious. he's a flirt/she's shy. jealousy. reassurance. they're both afraid of being left behind/forgotten. abandonment issues. sexual tension.

[seungkwansphd]

bean me up, scotty

pairing: coffee roaster!seungcheol x cafe manager!YN word count: 2K synopsis: you see seungcheol often enough at work. helpful daytime seungcheol, you can handle. but nighttime, arms fully out seungcheol? that's a problem. themes: fluff, SFW, work crush/work acquaintances vibes. beefy seungcheol. SCOUPS RIZZ at the end, implied smut.

a/n: @wavelikewhat came up with this concept and we both had different ideas about how to approach it, so it was super fun to write and then read both versions! def check hers out here.

“Hey boss, Mr. Choi is here!” the voice of one of your baristas pulled your mind out of inventory suddenly.

“Hey I told you not to to call me mister, kid,” Seungcheol’s voice followed. You can practically hear the pout in his tone, which drew a smile to your lips.

“I’ll be right out,” you called back and tucked your pencil behind your ear.

You stepped out of the back room to greet Choi Seungcheol, head roaster at Brandywine Coffee Roasters.

“Hey Cheol,” you greeted him with a smile, “You can leave the delivery in the usual spot. I’ll put it up later.”

“You sure? I have time today, you’re my last delivery,” he raised an eyebrow at you, an offer to help.

“Well, I won’t say no, if you have the time. I’ll caffeinate you,” you shrugged. This was your typical offer and as usual he took you up on it.

“Okay,” he nodded and rolled his dolly into the back room.

Brandywine was the core coffee roaster that you used at your cafe. Seungcheol had been your point of contact for almost a year now, so he knew his way around without any direction. He set to work on replenishing your two pound bags of espresso blend and let you handle the retail, one pound single-origins.

“Oh? You found it?” your eyes widened as you read the label of the bag in your hands. “Restricted oxygen?”

You had mentioned this specific type of processing to Seungcheol a few months ago. The low oxygen processing conditions selected for a unique proportion of microorganisms, yielding an unusual flavor profile once roasted. It seemed quite niche, so you were surprised to be holding a bag in your own hands. You set one bag aside for your personal tasting needs before shelving the rest of the bags.

“Got time to try this with me?” you asked as you both left the back room. “I can set us up a French press.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol nodded. “Let me just put this back in the truck.”

“Sure,” you smiled at him, setting about prepping. You were giddy with excitement as you ground the beans. The aroma was already quite striking.

“Are we doing a tasting?” your youngest barista, Chan, asked curiously.

“Yes,” you nodded surely.

“Oh yay! Seungcheol whips up the coolest stuff. What is it today?”

“It’s a restricted oxygen process Ethiopia,” Seungcheol answered, appearing behind Dino. “Experimental processing, but cool. I’ll be interested to hear what you think, YN.”

“Whoa, that’s cool! Like leaning towards anaerobic, huh?”

“Yes, exactly that,” you grinned.

As the timer counted down, Chan helped a customer. Seungcheol stood with his arms crossed, watching you watch the timer.

“Missed you at the roaster showcase,” you commented as you depressed the French press plunger and poured the brew into cortado glasses.

“Eh, you know I don’t like that stuff. Sam is way better at those events. I heard it went well though, thanks again for letting us use the space.”

“Of course,” you chuckled, handing the glass to Seungcheol. It was hard to ignore the jolt you felt when his hands brushed over yours, but you liked to think you did your best. “Chan!” you beckoned during a lull in customers.

“Oh interesting!” Chan’s eyebrows raised with surprise, “It tastes almost like…peachy gummy rings? Fascinating!”

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully as you tasted the liquid in your mouth. “I don’t know that I get peach gummy, but I see what you’re saying. There’s like fruit and sweetness, but it’s not very high, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Seungcheol nodded before taking another aerated sip. “Really neat, thanks for the suggestion, YN,” he nudged you gently.

You smiled sheepishly at him and ignored Chan’s pointed look. You could already tell that once Seungcheol left, you were going to get yet another earful about how you and the roaster were dancing around each other and denying mutual chemistry. You were overcome by an unreasonable desire to keep Seungcheol here longer so that you could avoid that.

“Something for the road?” you asked instead, shaking that thought out of your mind. “I have a seasonal cherry syrup and we’re doing a cherry cola espresso tonic that’s kind of fun for the summer.”

“Huh. Caffeine and caffeine?” Seungcheol considered the drink with amusement. “Sure, I’ll try it.”

“I’m assuming you’ll want YN to make it, as usual?” Chan teased, stepping back from the bar.

The roaster placed his hands into his packers and shrugged with a soft smile, but didn’t deny it. You laughed and set about crafting his featured beverage.

“I really think you two like each other!” Chan started practically before the door had swung shut behind Seungcheol.

“I do like Seungcheol. And his coffee.”

“I mean in a non-professional way. Please note I didn’t say unprofessional, because I don’t think it would be unprofessional. I just think you think he’s hot and he thinks you’re hot. He’s always taking your coffee suggestions and he looks at you a lot when you’re not looking.”

“Chan,” you planted your hands on your hips.

You didn’t want to talk about this with him anymore. He didn’t need to know that the reason was fear of it pushing your delulu brain further than it already was with this workplace crush. You liked Seungcheol, but you also only saw him at work, so it didn’t need to go further than that.

Outside, Seungcheol was grateful that he worked alone. If he’d had a Chan, they most certainly would’ve called him on the inordinately pleased look that had crossed his face when he’d caught the start of your conversation as he left. While it was a guess on Chan’s part, it at least reassured Seungcheol that he wasn’t the only person who had picked up on a potential something between you. Not that he felt ready to do anything about it yet, but he could at least be comforted that it wasn’t totally fabricated on his end.

…

“Eee, staff outing, I’m so excited!” Naomi and Chan squealed excitedly as they skipped towards the bar.

You smiled, thoroughly entertained, as you watched them. You hadn’t had a chance to do much prying yet, but you had a sneaking suspicion that they had started dating recently.

“The answer is yes,” Seungkwan, one of your higher seniority staff, clicked his tongue judgmentally at the pair.

“Huh?” your head whipped around to look at him more directly.

“They are dating. Just last week.”

You had to burst out laughing. For someone who’s life occasionally got quite messy, he could be quite judgemental, but he was also incredibly reliable and responsible in ways that made you grateful he’d continued to work with you for so long.

“Thank you for the updates as usual,” you smiled before grabbing his arm to pull him into the bar.

You spotted Naomi and Chan whispering to each other at the end of the bar and you made your way towards them.

“Okay, let’s thank Father Chip for bankrolling our annual staff outing. Please drink wisely,” you smiled at him. It was a sorry excuse for a grand speech, but it would do well enough to kick the night off.

You looked over the menu as Chan and Naomi waited to catch the eye of a bartender. You heard some commentary about a ‘beefcake’ as you wondered just what exactly Cynar was made out of.

“Oh, he’s coming, he’s coming!” Naomi bounced on her heels excitedly, which meant you had to decide what you wanted and quickly.

“Hey folks, what can I get-,” the bartender greeted you. You were just in the middle of recognizing his voice when he recognized you first. “Oh hey Chan, Naomi, Seungkwan! Is YN out with you?”

“Seungcheol?” you lifted your head, slightly bewildered, to meet eyes with Brandywine’s own head roaster.

“Hey,” he nodded at you. It was a normal greeting, but something about the way his eyes flicked over you afterwards made you impossibly nervous.

“Do you work here?” Seungkwan asked on your behalf.

“Not usually,” Seungcheol brought his arm up to scratch the back of his neck, “Sammy owns this place too and occasionally he needs a hand.”

Sammy was Seungcheol’s business partner at Brandywine, so this made some sense, but your brain and eyes were busy processing Seungcheol’s arm. Daytime Seungcheol was typically clad in a flannel or a solid Carhartt t-shirt, effectively hiding his build. Nighttime Seungcheol, however, was wearing a cut off t-shirt which favored you with a gratuitous view of his muscles. This was a problem for you.

“So what are we drinking?” Seungcheol asked, “Happy to make recommendations too.”

He held your gaze for a moment.

“I’ll do the Coco Bop,” Seungkwan ordered. Dino and Naomi quickly followed suit and before you knew it, Seungcheol stood before you, arms fully out, waiting for your order.

“What does Cynar taste like?”

“Oh, I don’t know actually. You want to try?” he asked before turning to grab the bottle. He poured out a partial shot and took a sip before handing it to you. When you set down the glass, you were both making mirrored grimacing faces at each other.

“That is foul,” you inhaled sharply, face warm from the overwhelming taste of the liquor. “Thank you though. I will have a glass of white wine, please.”

“Oh we have a skin fermented wine, I think you’ll like that. It’s got a little bit of that funk, like the low oxygen process. How’s that sound?”

“I’m sure it’ll be good!” you nodded, self conscious at the crowd that had built up behind you, eagerly awaiting their turn to order.

“This one’s on me,” he smiled when he returned with the glass.

“Oh no-, I-.”

“You comp me all the time. Let me get this one for you.”

“Okay,” you nodded before seeking out the rest of your staff. You just knew you were going to be teased about this interaction too.

Despite your best efforts, you and Seungcheol continued to cross paths and meet eyes the rest of the evening. Whether you were returning glassware, barreling into him as you left the bathroom, or feeling his gaze on you as you watched the others dance, it all seemed to affect you. Unfortunately for your brain, you liked this version of Seungcheol too and it made you curious for more.

Seungcheol watched you try to avoid his gaze and he glanced at the clock impatiently. He’d only agreed to take on the opening shift, so he had a handful of minutes left. He hoped that you’d stick around until then.

“You can leave now,” Sammy appeared at his side.

“Huh?”

“I’m worried your eyes are going to fall out of your head if you look any harder at YN,” Sammy rolled his eyes. He’d had a sneaking suspicion about you since Seungcheol had brought up the idea of participating in the coffee roaster showcase at your cafe.

“Wish me luck,” Seungcheol chuckled before heading towards you.

“And then she said-,” Seungkwan’s words trailed off as his eyes widened at you.

“What did she say?!” you demanded. You were surprised and confused when all three of them shook their heads and pointed at something behind you. Someone, rather.

“Hey,” Seungcheol was standing behind you with his hands in his pockets. “Are you hungry? I just finished up.”

“...I could eat,” you answered, heat zipping up your spine again.

“Did you drive?”

“No.”

“I’ll give you a ride then,” he smiled. He waved at Chan, Naomi, and Seungkwan before leading you out the staff entrance to his car.

“Should I plan to drop you off at home tonight or tomorrow?” he asked as he backed out of his parking spot.

If you’d been holding something, you most certainly would have dropped it. You bit your lip and still failed to hold in your gobsmacked grin at this line.

“...tomorrow.”

Seungcheol glanced over, eyes flicking over you again, before he smiled smugly and drove out of the parking lot.

[durrtydawg]

The Sadir Inheritance

{Sam Drake x F!Reader} Chapter 9 | 'Scotty's Archival Finds'

i would like him to put his [redacted] in my [redacted]

masterlist ✨

Other chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Things had to ramp up sooner or later.

Word count: 5.3k-ish x

Sam wakes with a start, unsure at first what’s roused him until the faint sound of someone jumping into the pool outside filters through the window. His body feels stiff, his head heavy, and for a moment, he wonders why he didn’t wake up in his own bed. Then he glances down.

She’s still asleep, curled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand - scrunched, and clinging to the edge of his vest - holds him in place as much as her weight does. He tries not to move too much, to keep the moment intact, but his chest tightens, his breathing shallow.

He looks at her for a moment. There’s a faint crease across her cheek, probably from her bracelet, and a strand of hair sticks awkwardly to her lip - but somehow that makes it worse. The imperfection.

This feels weird, doesn’t it? Inappropriate? He shifts slightly, testing how much freedom he has without waking her. Not much. But he doesn’t mind, really. That’s the problem.

His eyes drift down to her hand, resting against his chest. There’s a faint smudge of green ink near her knuckles, and it takes him a second to place it: the chewed-up pen she insists on using, despite all evidence that it’s a disaster waiting to happen. A soft huff escapes him, barely audible.

Without thinking, his fingers twitch, almost moving toward the mark, as if to brush it away or trace it. He stops himself just in time. What the hell is he doing?

A series of horrendously loud knocks distracts Sam instantly. He jolts upright, violently shunting her off of him, the ledger sliding off his lap and hitting the floor with a muted thud. His brain scrambles to catch up, heart already pounding like a starter pistol’s gone off.

“What happened?” she blurts, sitting up next to him. Her hair’s a mess, sticking out at odd angles, and the crease on her cheek is more pronounced now that the light hits it. There’s something faintly dazed in her expression, and for some reason, it guts him in a way he can’t explain. It’s stupidly endearing.

He twists, grabbing his phone off the nightstand, screen lighting up as if on cue. “Ah, shit.”

“Scott?” she whispers, scrambling for her own phone that’s gotten lost somewhere in the sheets.

Sure enough, there it is - missed calls. Plural. He glances sideways at her screen. Same thing. “Guy’s persistent,” he mutters, rubbing his neck. God, they were out for almost three hours.

The knock comes again, harder this time. The kind that practically demands the door be ripped off its hinges. They both look at the door, then at each other.

“Hang on,” she calls groggily after a tut, already pushing herself upright.

Sam scrubs a hand over his face, groaning as the last remnants of sleep vanish. His eyes drop to the ledger, now sprawled open on the floor, pages creased. Three hours. He checks the time on his phone. They’d burned three hours chasing connections that still didn’t quite fit, only to end up here. He should be grateful. This is probably the longest consecutive string of hours he’s spent knocked out in… decades, perhaps.

She stumbles toward the door, running a hand through her hair, tugging at the hem of her shorts. Sam doesn’t mean to look, but his eyes catch anyway - her messy hair, the sleep-soft slump of her shoulders, the way the late afternoon light frames her.

She glances back at him, one eyebrow raised, and her lips curve into something faintly teasing. “You gonna get up too, or are you planning to sit there all day?”

Sam snorts, leaning back into the headboard. “Nah, you’ve got it covered, sweetheart. You’re very intimidating for someone half-asleep.”

The laugh she lets out is soft and fleeting, but it punches straight through him. He clenches his jaw, forcing himself to look away, to shove the feeling back down where it belongs.

Jesus.

He takes a swig from his water bottle, hoping the cold will wake him up properly, or at least distract him. It doesn’t work. Not entirely. There’s something about seeing her like this - unguarded, maybe - that lodges itself somewhere rather uncomfortably.

She opens the door. The moment’s gone, perhaps not a second too soon.

Scott. Rejoice! Sam watches him barrel in like he owns the place, flushed and wild-eyed, sweat slicking his brow.

“Finally,” he snaps, brushing past her without so much as a hello, leaving her frowning and slightly startled. “Christ almighty, you have no idea the hoops I just jumped through to get back here, then Sam wouldn’t answer his-” He freezes, his eyes flicking between them as he clocks she’s not alone.

She glances back at him as he gets off of the bed, her expression tight - a little coy, perhaps - before pushing the door shut. Right. Focus.

Sam’s leaning casually against the bathroom door now, arms crossed, looking just disheveled enough to give the younger man ideas. He can see the flicker of something in Scott’s expression - perhaps accusatory - but it’s gone almost as quickly as it comes.

Sam raises a brow, lips twitching. “Somethin’ happen?”

“Yeah, something happened,” Scott bites, pacing the room like a caged animal. “I was followed.”

The words drop like a brick. Sam straightens, all the humour draining from his face. He flicks a glance at her. Eyes wide, the sleepiness gone in an instant.

“Followed? Like… chased?” she echoes, stepping toward Scott. “By who?”

“I don’t know!” Scott rakes a hand through his hair, his movements jerky - the most unhinged Sam’s ever seen him. “It wasn’t some… high speed chase or anything, but he was definitely following me. Tall guy. Caucasian, I think. Dark clothes. Baseball cap. Real generic, Joe Goldberg type shit - but he was on me from the archive all the way to the rental. I had to ditch the car and take a cab just to make sure I lost him.”

Sam exhales through his nose, jaw tightening despite his desire to question who on earth Joe Goldberg is. “That’s the second one.”

Scott stops mid-pace, blinking. “Second?”

Sam nods slowly, his brows drawn stiffly together. “That guy I was speakin’ to this morning? Same deal - blending in, but not really. Too interested in what we were doing. Loitering around too many times for it to be a coincidence, you know? Balcony out there, then back in Petra, and at the cafe earlier.”

“Same guy?” she asks, glancing between them.

“Doubt it,” Sam mutters, scratching his chin. “Why tail Scott but leave me alone?”

She folds her arms, frowning. “So what? We’ve got two people watching us all of a sudden?”

Scott shrugs, helpless and visibly rattled. "Maybe? Or… maybe this has nothing to do with us. Could just be bad luck, right? Wrong place, wrong time." His eyes snap to Sam, brows pinched, practically begging for reassurance.

Sam blinks, straightening his posture on instinct. He feels the corners of his mouth twitch - amused despite himself. Scott looking to him for answers? Now that’s rich.

His jaw tightens as he leans casually against the desk, tapping a finger against the edge. Stay cool. Don’t gloat. But God, is this… a little satisfying. The guy who always has the answers, cracking just a little. Sam has to bite his lip just to hide the faint smirk pulling at them.

He glances sideways, just enough to catch her in his peripheral. Is she noticing this? Impressed, maybe?

But then the smugness dulls, replaced by a quiet unease coiling low in his gut. Panic, faint but - yep - most certainly present. Wrong place, wrong time? Yeah, right. This feels like a storm brewing.

“Makes no sense,” he mutters. “Nobody knows about the inheritance, not really. And even if they did, it’s hardly like we’ve been broadcasting our every move. So how the hell do they know to follow us?”

Scott’s pacing again, practically wearing a trench into the carpet. “Maybe they’re just covering their bases. Long game. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, so how can they?”

Sam grits his teeth, his thoughts racing. He doesn’t like this - not the timing, not the fact that they’ve potentially been spotted, and definitely not the creeping paranoia tightening in his chest. If they were dealing with professionals, it’d only be a matter of time before someone made a move.

“Doesn’t track,” he mutters, barely realising he’s spoken aloud.

“What doesn’t?” she presses, her voice sharper now.

“All of it,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “Whoever these people are, they’re not amateurs. And yet, here we are. No threats. No demands. Just... watchers. What are they waiting for?”

The room falls quiet. Sam doesn’t have the answers and the air feels thick.

Scott sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Well… whatever’s going on, at least we’ve got nothing worth stealing yet.” His tone’s laced with frustration, but there’s a sideways glance - like he’s still trying to convince himself they’re still fine.

Sam stiffens, the words hitting him wrong. Nothing worth stealing. Whoops. His sight flicks over to where she’s sat herself on the edge of the bed, catching her eyes. It’s brief. Just enough time for a little flash of recognition passing between them. They’re very much on the same page. Whatever he’s feeling - guilt, maybe - it must’ve flashed across his face, because Scott’s suddenly on it like a hawk.

“Wait a second,” Scott says slowly, his head tilting, eyes narrowing like he’s just spotted a tell in a poker game. Fitting. “What was that? You two just did a thing. Don’t tell me you’re holding out on me.”

He leans forward slightly, pacing like he’s warming up for an argument. Sam straightens but doesn’t respond right away, letting them mull in the silence. She shifts uneasily, and there’s this flicker of hesitation before she moves, almost like she’s asking him permission. It’s subtle - a glance, nothing more - but he clocks it anyway.

Gets another weird kick out of it, too.

She bends to grab the ledger off the floor, the movement snapping him out of his head. Straightens up and holds it out toward Scott, her grip tight.

“Found this,” she says, voice reluctant.

Scott takes the book without a word, his expression unreadable as he flips through the pages, flopping himself onto the chair by the vanity. Sam watches his eyes dart across the handwriting - scrawled notes, messy numbers, dates - and catches her biting her thumb again.

Scott’s hand drags across his forehead as the cogs turn.

“It’s a gambling log,” she says, voice softer this time, like the words might be weaselled out by the wrong ears if spoken too loudly. Scott exhales sharply, closing the ledger and leaning back in the chair.

"Where’d you get it?" Scott’s eyes shift up to Sam, eyes narrowed.

He shakes his head, jerking a thumb toward her. "I didn’t. It was her."

Scott’s eyebrows lift. "Oh. Where’d you find it? Market?"

Her shoulders stiffen, and she crosses her arms, already bracing for what’s coming. "I… found it in Umm ar-Rasas the other night."

Scott freezes mid-breath, incredulous. "Hang on - two days ago? And neither of you thought to tell me?!"

Sam shrugs. "Hey, she only just showed me, too."

Scott exhales sharply, his tone dropping. "Shit. Why’d you hide it?"

She huffs, rubbing at her face, the weariness of the past few days etched into her movements. "I was going to show you - both of you - as soon as I found something concrete."

Sam clocks the quick flick of Scott’s eyes toward him, and he shrugs again, palms up. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Scott leans forward slightly, his voice laced with a mix of exasperation and something just shy of condescension. "What, is an old book you found in the middle of nowhere, still intact, not concrete enough for you, darl’?"

Her arms tighten across her chest. "Oh, for-“ She rolls her eyes, a sarcastic laugh practically dripping out of her mouth. "Another instalment of What Would Saint Scott Do? Lucky us."

Sam presses his lips together, hiding a smirk. It’s kind of funny, seeing her give as good as she gets, but he knows where this is heading.

Scott’s jaw tightens, his face darkening. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

She doesn’t even flinch. "You’ve got opinions about everything, don’t you? Like you’ve never kept anything back for a second."

And there it is. Sam straightens up slightly, bracing for impact. He’d seen enough spats in his life to know when one was about to hit full throttle.

Scott’s voice sharpens, cutting through the room like a blade. "Don’t be ridiculous. If it were me, I’d’ve been eager to share. This isn’t just your damn treasure hunt, you know."

She raises her eyebrows, letting out a sharp laugh. "Oh, is that right? Well, since we’re in a sharing mood-“ Her eyes lock onto him, the shift in tone catching Sam off guard. "Why don’t you tell me why you had my wrist gripped so tight after I passed out the other day, huh?"

Scott blinks, caught mid-step. This buys Sam’s attention almost instantly. "What the hell are you on about?" he asks, glancing between her and Sam.

She leans forward slightly, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You heard me. When I woke up, your hand was clamped around me like a vice. Bruise has only just gone. Care to explain that?"

He swallows, his jaw working like he’s chewing through words he can’t quite spit out.

Sam watches with intrigue as Scott exhales sharply, throwing his hands up. "Seriously? You smack your head on the ground, conk yourself out, and bleed all over the place, and now you’re pissed I was checking your bloody pulse? Next time, I’ll just leave you there, shall I?"

Sam sighs, stepping forward before this thing spirals any further. "All right, enough. Both of you. I’m too tired for this shit."

The room falls quiet, Scott backing off first, though his expression stays hard. "I’m sorry. I’m on edge. Getting followed through alleyways doesn’t exactly leave you in a good mood."

She exhales through her nose, still tense, but her voice softens slightly. "Fine." Then, as if on autopilot, she adds, "Sorry for snapping."

Sam watches her for a second longer, his gut twisting uncomfortably. The way she’d brought up Scott holding her wrist - she’d been sitting on that one for a while. And Scott… well, he wasn’t sure if that defensiveness was guilt or chase-fuelled exasperation. Either way, it’s kinda nice to see him rattled for a change.

"Right," Sam says finally, a clap cutting the awkward air in two. "Now that we’re all friends again, Scott - why don’t we get you up to speed, huh?”

“I’m all ears.” He says with a tight smile, like he’s trying to pretend the last minute didn’t happen.

She nods at Sam, walking over to Scott, reopening the book, chewing at her lip. She clears her throat.

“Emaan was hosting games in the crypt. Right where Sam found those cards.”

“Mhm,” he hums, thumbing the fragile pages.

Sam crosses his arms, his voice cutting in. “And the stakes weren’t just cash.”

Scott’s head snaps up, his grip tightening on the book. “What kind of stakes?”

“Things of value,” she replies, her arms crossing over her chest again as she leans back against the wall. “Huge sums of money, land… Some of it I can’t even make out. Toward the end, it gets messy. A page or two ripped out, even.”

Scott’s face hardens, his thumb brushing over the spine like he’s trying to squeeze answers out of the damn thing. “You think this is what they’re after? Those guys? This... book?”

Sam shrugs one shoulder, but there’s a knot in his gut that won’t loosen. “It’s a start,” he says, his tone flat. “If they know about it, they’re already ahead of us. But it’s not exactly a big bag full’a gold, is it?”

His words settle over the room all foggy. Sam glances at her again - arms hugging herself now, gaze fixed on Scott. She’s tense. He can feel it, even across the room.

“So,” he says, voice low, measured. “Not worth stealing, huh?”

Sam doesn’t answer. Doesn’t need to. The tension in his shoulders speaks loud enough. Instead, he watches Scott stare at the book like it might open a black hole right there in the room.

“Looks like we’ve got more to worry about than we thought.” Scott mutters.

Sam flicks back to her, and for a split second, their unease mirrors each other’s. The same question’s tugging at all three of them: What the hell kind of game are they playing? And more importantly - who else is holding the damn cards?

They’ve been sitting stagnant for too long - they need something good, and soon.

“Does any of this match up with what you found?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest, squeezing a little anxiously at his bicep.

Scott slumps back in his chair, looking like everything that’s transpired today has finally pinned him down. “I think so.” He rubs his temples, a heavy sigh dragging out of him. "Hey, look, why don’t we step out?  Go over all this somewhere a little more relaxed. I could use a stiff drink and a proper meal.” He looks between the two of them with a hopeful smile.

Sam raises an eyebrow but keeps his tone casual. “You think that, given the fact you’ve just been chased down several miles, playing detective in public is a good idea?”

Scott shrugs, “You said your guy was loitering around here, too right?”

Sam sighs. Then nods. Fair play.

“Right, and she’s got cabin fever, so-”

“She is fine,” Sam has to bite back a smirk as she cuts Scott off, leaving him putting up his palms in mock defence. “But if a stiff drink is involved, count me in.”

Scott’s already pushing out of his chair. The boy’s restless. “There’s a decent spot just a block over. Quiet. Give me ten to shower, then I’ll meet you out front.”

After a quick nod, he up and leaves.

Sam stays leant against the wall, fingers tapping against his forearm as his eyes flick over to the ledger Scott's dumped on the dressing table. Then to her. And her damn thumbnail back between her teeth yet again.

The room feels like it’s been doused in a cocktail of sweaty, stale tension. He frowns.

“You all right?”

She startles, blinking up at him like he’s yanked her out of a deep spiral. “How could I not be?” Her smile flickers to life, quick and bright, and his stomach twists because it’s very much false. “Got my knight in shining Hawaiian shirt here, haven’t I?”

It’s almost convincing - the quip, the smile - but something about her feels… dulled, still. Her usual fire is there, just buried under too much. She’s good at hiding it, sure. Just not from him.

He doesn’t push. There’s been enough drama for one afternoon.

Sam huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he adjusts his collar. “Yeah, screams 'chivalrous', doesn't it?” He smirks, trying to sell the joke, but inside, her words cloy enough to make eye contact a slight challenge.

Instead, he stands, stretching out his back and forcing a grin onto his face. But his mind’s already racing. If Scott’s holding something back - and Sam’s gut says he is - then maybe a drink or two will crack him open.

If there really are people hot on their trail, they don’t have the luxury of patience, and he hopes that whatever information Scott was able to dig up is enough of a catalyst for this old book to mean something.

“Gonna head back next door,” he says after a beat. “Wake myself up.”

She nods, dragging herself off the edge of the bed. “Yeah. I’ve got ‘sleep mouth’.”

Sam’s lips twitch - of course she’d call it that. He watches as she rubs her eyes and heads to the bathroom, muttering about toothpaste. His eyes hold for a second too long, clocking the tenseness of her shoulders.

He can't let her worry any more than she has to.

Before he leaves, he pauses in the doorway. “Hey,” he says, waiting until she glances up. His eyes narrow as if to hold her attention tight. “We’re good.”

His tone is steady, grounded, and for a moment, he sees the shadow of a real smile flicker back to life. She nods. That’ll have to do for now.

//

The restaurant is dimly lit. Rustic. Traditional, with the type of charm that, if it were back in London, would’ve made it an influencer hotspot - a sharp contrast to the sterile monotony of your hotel room.

You slide into a rounded booth, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space, making you feel oddly at ease. Sam scoots in beside you, his knee brushing yours as he adjusts the collar again. It’s an absentminded gesture, but regardless, it sends a warm prickle up your spine. You remind yourself that you must get your shit together.

Scott takes the opposite side, already scanning the drink menu as if it’s a new lead. His fingers drum lightly against the table’s edge, restless, like his mind’s running three steps ahead.

He leans back, gesturing toward the waiter. He asks for something in Arabic - smooth and confident as usual - then turns to you with a faint smile. “Are you good with whiskey?”

You nod, managing a small smile back. It feels stiff, the earlier spat between the two of you still clinging.

Sam chuckles, breaking the awkwardness. “Didn’t peg you for a whiskey guy.”

Scott smirks, leaning back against the booth. “Necessary when you’ve had a day like today. Think we all have a few anxieties to drown out, ey?” He raises a brow at you. The words sound friendly, but there’s an edge to them - a pointedness that makes your stomach twist. So he's still not over it - picking at the scab. Fine.

The drinks arrive quickly, the waiter setting down three glasses. Scott takes a long sip, exhaling sharply as he sets his glass down with a thunk.

“I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. Let’s get to it. Scotty's archival finds.”

“Lay it on us.” Sam leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, hands clasped together.

You nod, clutching your glass, the cool condensation a welcome distraction against your fingertips.

Scott pulls a notebook from his bag, flipping it open. “So, so far we’ve got,” he starts, glancing at you, then over your shoulder to Sam before returning to his notes, “Emaan’s letter. Gambling. Winning or losing big - potentially losing the entire inheritance. Yes?”

You exchange a look with Sam, who shrugs and nods. “Sounds about right,” he says, leaning back against the booth, dragging his glass with him.

"And our ongoing questions include…" he peruses his notes again, "One: what actually is the Sadir Inheritance,"

“Mhm.” You hum, taking a sip. It's vile. People drink this for fun? Masochists.

You make an odd hiss-cough hybrid sound that draws a snort out of Sam, who takes it upon himself to pull you back by the shoulder to give himself the pleasure of seeing your screwed up face.

Scott continues speaking as you silently slide your glass over to Sam, grimacing as he pours your share into his own glass. You mouth a 'disgusting' at him, to which he responds by jabbing his elbow into your arm.

"and two: seeing as Petra was a bust, where can we find it?”

You wish away the aftertaste and focus. Nods all round.

“Well, I’ve got potential routes to explore for the latter right…” Scott fans his notes out in front of the three of you. “...Here. Emaan's connection to British aristocrats and… a lady called Layla.”

The name hits you like a slap to the back of the head. Your breath hitches, a dull thrumming beginning at the base of your skull. Again. Brilliant. Could we not?

Suffice to say, the returning feeling is both concerning and really starting to piss you off.

Scott notices your reaction and pauses, brow furrowing. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, waving it off even as the tightness lingers in your chest. “Yeah. Sorry, just… go on. Layla.” Your mouth feels tight when you say the name - the dreadful sensation you get right as your body is preparing to throw up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Sam frowning, his eyes sharp and searching. You pretend not to notice, forcing your attention onto Scott’s notes.

“Layla Bashar was Emaan’s… partner? Girlfriend? Lover, whatever you want to call it.” Scott leans forward, his voice dropping like he’s letting you both in on a secret. “They couldn’t marry. Lower class, a scandal waiting to happen, etcetera, etcetera, so they kept it a secret.”

The waiter returns, setting down a plate of warm flatbread between the three of you. You barely glance at him when you nod in thanks, your thoughts snagged on Scott’s revelation. Without thinking, you grab a piece, tearing off a corner and chewing rapidly.

Sam’s frown deepens, scepticism etched deeply. “So you think she got her hands on it?”

Scott shrugs, his expression oddly nonchalant. “Well, she died, so-”

“She died?” you cut in sharply, leaning forward with your mouth half full, hand curling round the nape of your neck to subtly attempt to massage the persistent ache away. “So is that a yes or a no?”

Scott lifts a hand to temper your interruption. That action alone makes you grit your teeth. “She died in childbirth. About twenty-two years or so before Emaan’s death. So… no.”

Sam straightens, his brow furrowed. “Woah, hold on. Childbirth? Emaan had a kid with her?”

Your pulse spikes as you snort in disbelief, fingertips digging into your scalp as you wave the bread around. “He - he didn’t have any kids. Nothing came up in our research. He was the last of the Sadir bloodline.”

“It’s… blurry, sure. No record explicitly says it was his, but-” Scott pauses, flipping a page in his notebook. “-illegitimate children sometimes went undocumented. That’s what the archivist said, anyway. And given that they were supposedly childhood sweethearts… it’d make sense for it to be his.”

“Fuck!” You take another, rather feral bite. “How on earth are we supposed to follow up on that, then?”

Sam blinks, still processing, grimacing as he flicks off a bit of bread you’ve accidentally spat on his forearm. “Did the kid survive?”

Scott shakes his head. “Like I said, Sam, undocumented. Don't even know its gender.”

Blood rushes to your head, drowning out whatever choice expletives Sam mutters. Bite, chew, swallow. Your thoughts fragment, melting into a bubbling cauldron of stress. Sam and Scott’s voices fade into the background, your focus narrowing to the notebook on the table and the tidal wave of implications battering your brain as you go for another flatbread. Bite, chew, have a crisis, swallow.

“Okay, so - Christ, you animal, save some for us-” Sam mutters with a smirk, swiping the basket toward himself and grabbing a piece before turning back to Scott. “-you said something about the British… somethin’ or other. Is that gonna help us out?”

You snap out of it, narrowing your eyes at Sam. With deliberate precision, you reach across the table, pluck the bread from his hand, and take an exaggerated bite, crumbs tumbling onto your t-shirt.

“Really mature,” he deadpans, leaning back and folding his arms. Then, quick as a flash, he ducks forward, snatching the bread right out of your hand and biting it, his eyes daring you to try him. Cute.

Scott, entirely unfazed, leans casually over your shoulder to snag a piece too, flashing a grin. “Stress eating’s contagious - anyway, yes,” he says, waving his half-eaten bread for emphasis. “British aristocrats. They were…” He glances back to his notes, chewing. “Funding parts of the Hejaz railway's construction, alongside donors from Transjordanian high society. This included Emaan, surprise surprise. Started out as contractual stuff, then evolved into more friendly meet-ups, which included…” He trails off, raising his eyebrows meaningfully and gesturing for one of you to finish his sentence.

Sam leans back, exhaling. “Private poker games, by any chance?”

Scott points at him, snapping his fingers. “Bingo.”

Your pulse quickens, the conversation suddenly feeling like it’s moving faster than your brain can keep up. You grip the edge of the table, the wood pressing into your palms as your thoughts churn.

Oof.

Even thinking that name is making your head spin.

You don’t dare say his name out loud. Keep your elbows and sudden minor aneurysms off the table, please.

But Sam’s head snaps toward you, his knee knocking into yours under the table again. The touch is fleeting, but it sends a jolt through you, steadying the swirl of thoughts in your head, just for a few glorious seconds. He’s reading into you, and you know immediately he’s already made the same connection.

“William Campbell.”

The name hits like someone’s struck a gong right beside your ears, and the sharp pain behind your eyes flares into something molten. You force yourself to nod, your throat tightening as you push the feeling down.

You nod, your throat working as you force the uneasy feeling down along with your last mouthful of bread. “Makes sense. Name’s… British enough, and the timing tracks. If he was gambling big then-”

The pressure in your temple spikes, your breath hitching for just a second. You press your tongue against your teeth, willing yourself not to wince. Not here.

“-whatever he won could’ve driven Emaan to madness.” Scott cuts in, though you’re grateful for the quick removal of attention from you. His fingers drum against the table, a rhythmic counterpoint to the chaos in your head. You tune in to it as best you can. “Thus, inheritance. No?”

“So, what now? We’re suggesting that he either lost it all to Campbell in one of these backroom poker games, or passed it down to this mystery child?” Your voice wavers despite your effort to keep it steady.

“Both are possibilities,” Scott says, watching you closely. “If William was as ambitious as his investments in that ledger suggest, he wouldn’t have just walked away after winning himself a few bucks.”

You feel horrendous. And now Scott’s looking at you, waiting for a response.

Sam taps a finger on the table as he chews on his lip in thought. “Campbell’s a name we can dig into now. The kid? That’s a needle in a haystack. Undocumented - Dead? Lived after Emaan? Decades removed from anything solid. Feels like a waste of time that we might not have the luxury of any more.”

Scott nods reluctantly. His eyes stay locked on you, and for a second, you wonder if he’s caught the way you’re gripping the table or the faint tremor in your hands. The thrum at your temples fucking kills, and you feel like chucking up every crumb of the bread you’ve wolfed down. 

“So, Campbell first. But if anything about that kid pops up - anything - we follow it. Agreed?”

Scott nods again, finally turning back to Sam, more sure this time. “Agreed.”

It takes you a beat too long to respond, and when you do, your voice comes out thin. You’re too focused on the dull tingling in the bridge of your nose. “Mm. Agreed.”

You shift in your seat, slipping your napkin up to your face with what you hope passes as casual nonchalance.

It’s fine. Just a headache. Just stress. Just another imminent nosebleed and pounding headache in the midst of another very Sadir-heavy conversation.

Scott leans back, satisfied, flipping his notebook shut with a snap, exchanging it for the menu. Sam reaches for his glass, his movements on edge, and slightly distracted.

Neither of them notices the blood staining your napkin as you pull it away a little.

You press it harder against your nose and swallow the creeping dread signalling that something’s very, very off with you. And now, this whole bloody thing has become three times more convoluted.

look, when i said slow burn i meant slow.

[jhoneybees]

Could you write some this with 50’s Elvis? The reader is Scotty’s cousin from Europe and comes to visit family. The reader doesn’t open up to anybody easily because people always treat her unkindly. Scotty takes the reader to recording sessions where she gets to know Elvis.

Hi! This request was a bit of a challenging one and I'm so sorry that you had to wait so long! I've changed a few things around so I hope you don't mind that. My mind has been so slow at writing these days, it's annoyinggg😭

Unexpected.

Characters: 50s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: loneliness, travelling abroad??

Taglist: @elvisalltheway101 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a

_____________________________________________

Stepping foot out of the taxi and shyly thanking the driver for helping you unpack your suitcases out of the back, you stand in front of a wooden weathered house. Taking in a deep breath, smiling when the front door swings open.

You’ve just arrived in America this morning and the reason why you’re here is because in Switzerland where your parents live and where you go to school, the kids don’t treat you nicely. You've tried making friends over there but no matter what you do, if it's either acting like you're someone else or being someone's personal assistant, they always treat you so unkindly.

You’ve heard of that common phrase “not everyone is going to like you” and you’re not sure if it’s true because it seems to you that everyone at your school doesn't like you at all, including the nerds and other people might think it’s nonsense but even your parents think it’s strange how no one likes you.

It’s been making you really sad and miserable.

So after a bit of a conversation, your parents decided to send you to stay at your cousin’s house in Memphis. To test their theory of you being treated better in America than in Switzerland.

“Oh Y/n! It’s so lovely ta see ya” you smile sheepishly as your cousin’s wife runs down the porch and wraps you in a warm hug “So glad you’re here!” she chimes.

After you shyly nod and giggle, she ushers you inside the house with a hand on the small of your back and calls out to Scotty “Honey! Guess who’s here?” before giving you another friendly smile and politely taking your suitcases to your room.

“Hey! Bookie!” turning your head around to see your cousin standing in the archway leading into the living room with his arms out and a wide smile on his face, you smile again and laugh softly when he envelops you in an even warmer hug.

After a couple of weeks of your stay in Memphis, your happiness has shot through the roof. You do so many fun things and before when you were in Switzerland, you often dreaded what the day would bring but now everytime you wake up, you’re craving for something new, especially today. You don’t know what it is about today but you feel like something you won’t expect will happen.

“Bookie, how bout you come ‘long with me to Sun records?” Scotty asks whilst grabbing his electric guitar from the corner of the living room and bending over to pick up his cable and amp.

“Sure, why not?”

Taking a peek inside, you shyly make your way into the recording studio as Scotty holds the door open, guiding you towards another door that takes you into a padded room, he introduces you to the small group of people in front of you which not even a minute they all happily greet you with hellos and handshakes.

“The name’s Billy”

“Oh hello sweetie, my name is Marion”

“Sam, nice ta meet ya”

Then as you shake hands with who you think is the owner of the studio, you turn your head to a boy who looks to be around your age. Your heart skips a beat at what you see.

“Hi, m-my name’s Elvis”

Boyish, dirty, blond, styled hair.

Lightly tanned, pimply skin.

Small crooked shy grin.

Pretty blue eyes…

This is the thing you were not expecting to happen today…

…

You’ve just met the boy of your dreams.

“...Hi”

[t0ast-ghost]

Watching Star Trek TOS for the first time, and here are my thoughts on episode three (Charlie “X”)! (I didn’t do episode two cause I just wanted to watch it but I love Bones)

- so far I really like the kid

- Kirk shut up, let Charlie talk

- oh no he’s frightened by the door :(((

- girls do not look THAT different, getting some bad vibes from you Charlie

- BONES!!! (Why does he stand like that, it’s so curved)

- “I want people to like me” oh god they gave this boy anxiety

- He’s learning about the patriarchy, like Ken

- Kirk making Bones tell Charlie about puberty, he looked so defeated

- SPOCKS EYESHADOW!!!

- Charlie gets a Kirk assigned father, it’s not Kirk himself but he did assign Bones to do it, can’t you see the man is tired Jim?!?

- why is she being mean to Spock in verses? Nvm this is fun and he’s enjoying her singing

- HE SLAPPED KIRKS BUTT WHAT

- “there’s no right way to hit a woman.. you know man to man.. uhh… you understand, Charlie?” That was the worst way to try and explain anything, Kirk

- “I put meatloaf in the ovens, now there’s turkeys, real turkeys” then Charlie’s little laugh

- aww they’re playing chess together, normal husband activities

- “you smell like a girl” “I feel hungry… all over” back the fuck up Charlie

- stop trying to get Bones to explain stuff to him, Kirk

- this episode is just so icky, one issue is that they can’t just have an adult conversation and they can’t explain anything properly to him, they’re just telling him no and that he’s wrong. It’s a good example of how concealing information doesn’t allow people to find their own morals but instead creates a bunch of rules which can be easily broken if the person doesn’t believe in them because they don’t understand the logic behind them. (Not saying that the boundaries they’re setting for him are wrong, he just can’t understand them because they’re not explaining shit)

- SHUT UP SAM HE’S TRYING- oops Sam’s gone

- damn that German expressionist lighting tho, like something out of metropolis

- I FUCKIN DARE YOU KIRK, PICK HIM UP SEE WHAT HAPPENS

- okay Kirk saying it’s his choice is good cause at least he’s teaching him that these things he does are his own actions

- “short tempered, because he doesn’t understand” cause you won’t explain shit without mind games and metaphors

- Spock and Bones DO NOT want to get involved

- when Charlie’s explaining what he did to the Antares Bones looks absolutely terrified (Bones sitting like that on the table is… I have many thoughts)

- OH NO UHURA!

- Don’t you dare call Spock Mr. Ears

- “Teenager with supernatural abilities realizes his full potential and decides to use it for evil NOT CLICKBAIT”

- Why would you do that, why would you turn her into an iguana

- GET HIM!!! Wait no! Janice!

- “I love you” “you don’t know what that means” good for her, fuck you Charlie

- He gave Kirk period pain

- “cause you need me to run the ship, and I need him” Spirk? It’s more likely than you think

- this slide from Bones

- “I don’t think you can handle anymore, you’ve reached your limit” Spock and Bones start fucking shit up immediately for Kirk

- Kirk was so ready to punch a bitch

- nice fucking try Charlie- oh Kirk is defending him- nvm he still gets yoinked

- imagine if Charlie becomes Q lol (is that a thing? Are they related?)

- well that’s done now… where’s Scotty, Sulu, and Checkov? (Sulu appeared shirtless in the credits as I wrote that)

Thanks for sticking around again :)

Here’s a link to the first ramble

And all the other rambles

Below the cut is some thoughts I had on the second episode

Some thoughts on episode 2 (The Man Trap):

- it was kinda funny seeing Jim be like “she’s old as fuck, just like Bones”

- I didn’t realize that was where “he’s dead, Jim” came from and my dad quotes it all the time

- it was interesting that even the creature referred to themselves as an animal

- McCoy in the ending where he really didn’t want to kill somebody he loved even if they were just the image

- would not want to be the person to explain what happened to her to Bones

[isthlsfate]

*ೃ༄ The Girl Who Spit Flowers

warnings: slow burn, angst, mentions of puke, some dialogue taken directly from the movie, time skips, mentions of death, hanahaki disease :��)

pairing: elvis presley/austin!elvis x reader

word count: 4k

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘56

“ellis presley, blue moon boys, you’re up next.” the stage manager calls towards scotty as he rushes backstage, guitar in hand. he pushes the back door open and descends the stairs, where bill is staring at a poster with their name on it.

the latter lets out a scoff, “ellis presley…got a nice ring to it.”

scotty chuckles and motions for bill to follow him back towards elvis, dixie, gladys, and vernon. gladys gives the boys a kind smile before returning her attention back to her son.

“w-what if i forget the words on live radio? i ain’t no jimmy rogers snow.” elvis panics, sipping on the cola dixie had grabbed for him, “a-and where the hell is (y/n)?! ian’ going on without her!”

dixie looks up at him dejectedly as he hands the bottle of cola back to her, it suddenly feeling like a bag of bricks.

she always felt like she was competing with you. elvis would tell her that you were no more than a friend, but she wasn’t blind. the way you looked at him spoke stories.

“no one expects you to be jimmie rogers snow.” his father speaks, avoiding answering his question.

bill nods, “it’s just a bit of clowning around.

“that’s how we got this thing started in the first place.” scotty joins.

gladys rubs her son’s arm reassuringly, “scotty and bill are right, elvis. you’re not out there on your own. you boys are a band. the lord gave us music to bring people together. we’re like a family, and family’s the most important thing of all.”

“the family ain’t complete without (y/n).” elvis snaps, his nerves getting the best of him. as if on cue, you come through the door and trudge down the steps. your hands are visibly shaking as you wipe the corners of your mouth and force a smile. everyone but elvis seems to notice your unusual demeanor.

you force an awkward laugh, “sorry, i got caught up watching that snow boy on stage.”

elvis frowns at that and immediately opens his mouth to complain. his mother, however, rubs the back of his neck and cuts him off.

“if the good lord wants to speak through song here tonight, we are but vessels of His will. come on now, booby.” she motions for everyone to come in closer, “jesse is shining bright tonight.”

the elder woman looks up into the sky, the rest of the group following suit. she leads in song as one-by-one, they all join.

♪ some glad morning…

when this life is over…

i’ll fly away…

i’ll fly away, oh glory…

i’ll fly away, i’ll fly away…

i’ll fly away, i’ll fly away… ♪

as the song comes to a finish, sam walks through the door followed by marion.

“better get on up! they’ve just made a big announcement about you on the radio.” he says, his face seemingly just as pale as elvis’.

“folks are real excited!” marions quips before nudging him, “sam, don’t look so worried.”

elvis and his family make their way up the stairs, him and the band heading backstage while the rest go find some seats. before you can part with the others, the raven haired boy grabs you by the arm.

“why’d ya disappear like that?” he glares, his blue eyes dark.

you look back at the others nervously, but elvis is quick to grab your chin and make you face him.

“don’t look at them, look at me. what’s going on with you lately?”

“i-”

“elvis come on, we’re on!” scotty calls, saving you from a conversation you weren’t ready to have.

as he walks away, he mouths, “we ain’t done.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

that night after the show, you, dixie, vernon, and elvis sat at the table awaiting supper. the show was exhilarating, and while you wanted so badly to talk to elvis about it, you didn’t want him asking any more questions about where you’d ran off to. you watch with a bitter taste in your mouth as he and dixie sit close to one another, whispering about something.

you can only sit and watch for so long before you abruptly stand up and head towards the kitchen where gladys is.

“need help with anything?” you speak softly so as to not startle her. she looks up at you and notices the wetness in your eyes. before you can react, she’s pulling you into a loving hug.

“oh, honey. he’ll come to his senses soon.”

you sigh. at times, you wished you had been better at hiding it. gladys promised to keep your secret, but having someone know meant you were being watched. any time you had to step away, any time you randomly skipped supper, she knew. that somehow made what you were going through ten times more painful.

later on, as you all sat at the table eating, elvis cleared his throat.

“i’m gonna be joinin’ hank snow on his tour.”

you choke on your soup, gaining the attention of everyone. feeling the thickness in your throat, you run to the bathroom and lock the door.

“so, without so much as a word to your daddy and me, you quit your job to run around in that rickety jalopy, speeding down dangerous road, getting girls all hopped up.” you can hear the anger in gladys voice as you sit on the tiled floor, head against the toilet. you blink slowly, trying to gain the energy to walk out and put a smile on your face.

“...soon, you’ll be drinking, going off to them slut parties–”

“mama!” elvis cuts her off. you can’t help but feel another painful wave of nausea at the thought.

a knock at the door startles you. you quickly flush the toilet, rinse your mouth, and unlock the door.

“dixie?”

she pushes herself in and locks the door behind her. you stand uncomfortably against the bathroom counter, having never been left alone with her. you knew she didn’t really like you; you had the luxury of knowing elvis since he was a young boy. you were special to him, and she didn’t like that.

“what is going on between you and elvis?” she leans against the door with her arms crossed. you can still hear the commotion going on at the table.

“what do you mean? i–we grew up together, he’s my best friend.”

she scoffs, her face turning a nasty shade of pink.

“are you pregnant with his child or somethin’?”

you can’t help but let out an exasperated laugh. you quickly cover your mouth as you notice the serious look on her face.

“i’m not pregnant, dixie.”

“then what’s with all the runnin’ away, throwin’ up, whisperin’ to gladys?”

your blood runs cold. you should’ve been more careful. you watch as her eye seemingly catches onto something near the toilet.

“shit, (y/n).” is all she says, her angry expression softening. there on the creme colored tiles lays a lone flower petal.

“please don’t tell him.” is all you can get out, tears already threatening to leave your sullen eyes.

“oh, i won’t.” dixie scoffs, “it’s not like there’s anything you can do anyway. elvis is mine.”

the sound of a door slamming causes the both of you to jump. dixie gives you one last glare before leaving you alone. you topple over and choke out some more petals.

as elvis’ career began to skyrocket, your friendship pummeled. you heard from gladys that elvis had broken things off with dixie right before the school formal. she sounded hopeful, but you knew better.

time flew, and the pain refused to suffice.

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘57

gladys ended up asking you to move in with her and vernon permanently. you had stayed in and out of the presley residence since you were thirteen, but by age eighteen you felt you were burdening them and slept on a cot on the upper level of club handy, it was yours in exchange for some labor.

you accepted her offer only because you knew how lonely she was while her son was out and about. you were lonely too.

one morning, elvis came barging in, his pearly whites on show. you were sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal, startled by the loud noise.

“how ya been, darlin’?” he asks, pulling you up from your chair into a warm embrace.

“good. your mama’s missed you.”

he pulls away with a chuckle, “you say that as if ya didn’t.”

before you can argue, gladys emerges from her room and gives her son a big hug. vernon comes soon after and pats the boy on the back.

“i’ve got a surprise for y’all.”

that day, elvis showed you all your new home. graceland.

𓍊𓋼𓍊

“i see you’ve been gettin’ in a bit of trouble.” you chuckle, handing the raven haired boy a newspaper you had collected. he stands up from his spot on your room floor and joins you on your bed. it’d been a while since you two had spent time together.

elvis doesn’t speak for a while, causing you to look over at him with furrowed brows. you nudge his arm gently.

“you alright satnin?” the nickname slips, but elvis doesn’t seem to mind. he turns onto his side and sighs.

“the colonel says i might be gettin’ drafted.”

the air in your room seems to fall still, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“t-that’s insane! you ain’t did nothin’ wrong but express yourself. your own mama thinks it’s okay!” you sit up from the bed and begin pacing, chewing on your lip, “i oughta give that man a piece of my mind!”

you make a move to leave the room, but elvis grabs your arm.

“it’s no use, darlin’. i followed my heart and i gotta pay the price.” he runs a hand through his hair, a sign that his nerves were getting the best of him. you grab his hand and smile reassuringly albeit the pain you felt in your chest.

“how long will you be gone for?”

“two years.”

“two years?!” you shout back, causing the boy to cover your mouth with his hand.

“goddamn (y/n), you want the whole world to hear? i haven’t even told mama yet.”

you look up at the blue eyed boy with sad eyes, your body noticeably relaxing as you realize how badly he needs a friend right now.

elvis drops his hand from your mouth and allows you to fall into his arms, your arms wrapping tightly around him so as to not let him go.

he sniffles, resting his chin in your hair.

“i’ll look after her, e. i promise.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

not even six months after elvis was gone, you had found gladys unconscious at the top of the steps. your heart shattered as you fell to your knees, trying to wake the elder woman up.

you couldn’t help the sobs that ripped painfully through your soul. not only had you lost someone who was like a mother figure to you, you had broken your promise to elvis”

vernon came running up the stairs at the sound of your cries, his shaky hands pulling you away from her as he too tried to wake her.

it was no use.

on august 14th, 1958, you had lost the one person who knew of your condition and loved you through it.

elvis came back home for a brief period of time, but it was like seeing a ghost. you stayed to yourself, not having the strength to face him. you knew you should’ve been there for him, but every time you convinced yourself to go, you’d find yourself not able to leave the threshold of your door.

not too long after gladys’ passing, grandma dodger was gone too.

graceland had become the shell of a home. it was typically only you and vernon in the home, cousin billy occasionally making an appearance.

a year passed. you busied yourself with work, going back to bussing tables at club handy.

you hadn’t been sick as much, which seemed to be the only plus to elvis being gone. there were some nights, however, when you would think too hard about what he was probably doing in germany and found yourself coughing up petals.

by the time he had returned, seeing elvis was like seeing a stranger.

you all would eat supper together, but the table was silent.

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘63

today was a day like any other, the three of you sitting at the table, listening to the cheerful sounds from cousin billy and his friends outside.

“‘cilla is movin’ in pretty soon.” elvis speaks after he swallows a bite of his food.

you keep your eyes focused on your food, your throat starting to feel thick.

“that’s great, son! when’s the wedding?”

at the sound of those words, you can’t bear to hear anymore. you excuse yourself from the table and walk to your room.

your stomach churns at the thought of living here, hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend as he married another. it didn’t help that your room was right below his.

your thoughts run wild, tears wetting your eyes as you look around the room and begin frantically throwing stuff into a suitcase.

you can’t stay. it’ll kill you.

with tears still running down your face you make your way into the hall bathroom, grabbing a couple of toiletries to bring along with you.

what you don’t expect is to turn around and walk straight into a strong chest.

“just where do ya think you’re goin’?” his thick southern accept sends a chill down your spine.

you muster enough strength to look him in the eye despite the tears still visibly falling.

“i think it’s about time i go out on my own.” you quickly brush past him and head back to your room, but elvis is hot on your tail.

“no one said you had t’do that.”

“i did.” you continue packing your stuff, more furiously than before, “you haven’t even paid me any mind since mama died. i’m not stayin’ here feelin’ like a burden any longer.”

elvis snatches your suitcase from you, not paying any mind to the contents that spray all over. his usually lively blue eyes are dark, storms thundering in them.

“you were the one who stopped payin’ me any mind.”

you ignore him, bending down to pick up your items. you continue to walk around him, packing more things as he stands there, discontent radiating from his body.

the taller male grabs you by the arm, keeping you in place right in front of him.

“look at me, darlin’.”

you obey almost immediately, your lip quivering.

elvis’ eyes seem to look at you, really look at you for the first time in years. he hadn’t noticed how frail you’d gotten, how your (e/c) eyes were sunken and dull, how your seemed like you were struggling just to stand. he frowns, wiping a few tears from your cheeks.

“why’re you leavin’ me, (y/n)?”

“i—“

but its cut off by a gag, and the sudden urge to run. he follows you, but youre too fast, slamming the bathroom door in his face and locking it tight.

his head rests against the door as he listens to you retch, his chest constricting in pain at the sound of your cries.

“satnin, you’ve gotta tell me what’s goin’ on.” he calls, but you don’t respond. he stands there for a solid thirty minutes before getting impatient and going to the kitchen to find something to pick the lock with.

the sight before him makes him immediately fall to his knees beside you.

it seemed like you had no energy to even open your eyes, your head laid against the toilet, the contents of your stomach still threatening to escape.

“i’m sorry.” your voice is barely above a whisper, cracky and pained.

the raven haired male brings you to his lap, holding your head against his chest as he reassures you it’ll all be okay.

he couldn’t help but look into the toilet in fear.

no longer were there tiny petals, but full on flowers.

𓍊𓋼𓍊

“how’s (y/n) doing?” priscilla asks her boyfriend, the two of them sat at the table for breakfast.

despite your protests, he had told you to stay. you were too weak to do anything, your condition worsening once priscilla officially moved in.

elvis hadn’t said anything to you about that night, only making sure that the maids brought you food and checked on you hourly.

“she says she’s alright, but she looks worse then ever.”

“do you know who it is?”

elvis only shakes his head, oblivious to the obvious.

“i’m gonna go check on her.” the brunette says softly, leaving a long kiss on elvis’ cheek before heading down the hall.

she knocks gently, hearing a soft and raspy come in from the other side of the door.

you smile at her, sitting up in bed to let her sit next to you. despite the pain it caused you, you could tell that priscilla was good for elvis.

unlike dixie, she cherished the fact that he had grown up with you, always including you and even taking the time to get to know you.

“you doing alright, (n/n)?” she rests her hand on yours, holding it gently.

“i know you know, ‘cilla.” you sigh, a sad expression on your face, “and i’m so sorry. i wish i could change it. i wish it was anyone but him.”

priscilla tuts, “don’t say that, love. we can’t control who we fall for.”

“did you tell him? he seems distant.”

“he’s just really worried for you, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. i know you guys had a rough patch but you’ve always had a special place in his heart. he used to tell me stories about your childhood all the time in germany.” the brunette hands you the glass of water on your nightstand as she notices you struggling to clear your throat, “you should tell him now, (y/n).”

you quickly shake your head, “it won’t change anything. he loves you.”

“quite frankly i think he’s just settling for me.” the girl chuckles solemnly, “i wont let you die without having tried. i’ll tell him to come to you now.”

priscilla doesn’t give you a chance to turn her down, leaving a small peck on your forehead and rushing out the room.

minutes later, elvis comes in with a concerned look.

“‘cilla said you needed me. you alright, doll?”

you nod, motioning for him to join you on your bed. he obeys, sliding his shoes off and sitting criss cross applesauce beside you. you can’t help but giggle at the sight, his long limbs looking uncomfortable.

you grab his hand once he’s situated, not able to ignore the wince as he notices your frail hand.

“there’s something i need to tell you.”

“what is it, (y/n)?”

“i’m sure you’ve been rackin’ your brain tryna figure out why i have this disease.” you sigh, acknowledging the small nod he gives you, “a-and i’m sorry i kept it hidden from you for so long. i first found out about it when i turned eighteen. it was little petals here and there, and i would only cough. b-but as time passed, it progressed. it didn’t take long for me to connect the dots. for me to realize that it was happening because i…”

elvis looks at you expectantly, having craved this moment since he held you on that bathroom floor.

“you can tell me, baby. i want to help you anyway i can.” he brushes a lone tear off your cheek.

“it was happening because i fell in love with you.”

you close yours, not strong enough to look in your best friend’s eyes and see nothing but rejection. you’re surprised when you feel his hand caress your cheek.

“open your eyes, darlin’.”

and you do. and your pounds at how close he is to you, how his eyes search your face desperately for signs of a lie. you furrow your brows.

“why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

elvis laughs, a few tears springing to his eyes. “cause it’s always been you.”

“don’t do that.” you beg, “i’ve known you for forever elvis. i watched you go after women day and night.”

“because i thought i couldn’t have you, (y/n). like you said, you’ve known me for forever. i didn’t think you could see me as anything more than family.”

you laugh at that, bewildered at the secrets suddenly coming to light. had you really been so blind?

“‘member when we were kids, livin’ at the home on audubon? mama had set up a lil makeshift tent for us in the backyard and we would spend every weekend in it?”

you nod, “what about it?”

“th-there was one weekend when we decided to stay the night out there, and we were watching the stars. i looked over at you a-and i just knew. i even told mama that morning i was gon’ marry you one day.”

you giggle through your tears, searching his eyes for truth and finding all of the above.

“why’d it take so long, e?” you whimper, the memories of all those lonely nights of pain and puking resurfacing.

“i lost who i was, baby. at first i was just scared, and then all of a sudden my career took off, then mama died, and i…i’m so sorry.”

he rests his forehead against yours, pulling your weak body into him.

you want to kiss him. you want to seal the deal now. you’re ready to spend the rest of your life with him, not wanting to waste another second.

but, “what about priscilla?”

elvis sighs, about to open his mouth to speak but the girl herself cuts him off.

“priscilla will be okay.” she says from the doorway, her own set of tears collecting in her eyes, “i’m just glad you’ll live, (n/n).”

you force yourself to get up, legs shaky as you make your way to the brunette and engulf her in a hug.

“thank you so much.” you sniffle.

“i’m going to go pack.” she smiles grievously, “i’d better get going.”

you nod, making your way back to your bed. elvis gives you a look and you nod, watching as he quickly follows after her.

“‘cilla.” he calls, stopping her on the steps.

“it’s okay, elvis. i knew the moment you started talking about her that it wasn’t meant to be.”

“can i at least have one of my men drive you?” he asks.

priscilla doesn’t see a point in opposing, so she nods. the taller of the two nods as well, before taking her into a gentle hug.

“you’re always welcome here, okay?”

“okay.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘67

“hold on, let me get a picture of the newlyweds!” vernon smiles, snapping a quick shot of you and elvis.

despite his career, elvis wasted no time in taking the next steps with you. fifteen years was too long to have missed with you, so he made time for you everyday.

you look over at the man before you, amazed at how much more handsome he’d gotten throughout the years. your heart was pounding happily in your chest, still half expecting this to be a dream.

your wedding was small, held in the meditation garden at graceland.

as your reception came to a close and guests began to leave, you and elvis held one another, swaying to the soft music playing from the record player.

the raven haired man kisses the top of your head, your nose, your cheek, and then your lips.

you hum in content, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i love you, sugar.” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“i love you t-“ you run down the hall to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as you fall to the ground and let out a heave.

elvis, as usual, is on your tail. he rubs your back soothingly, whilst pinching his nose at the smell.

you flush the toilet and brush your teeth, heart fluttering as you look in the mirror and catch elvis eyeing you adoringly.

“mama would be proud.” he smiles, hands snaking around your wakes and resting on your tough stomach.

you can’t help but smile back, your stomach fluttering. only this time, it was the result of your love and not the lack thereof.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

second's (eclectic) masterlist

Hello! Under the cut, you’ll find all the fics I’ve written for these fandoms:

television:

The Artful Dodger ⁎ Bodyguard ⁎ Bridgerton ⁎ Daisy Jones & The Six

Daybreak ⁎ Deadly Class ⁎ Dickinson ⁎ A Discovery of Witches

Dollface ⁎ The Falcon and the Winter Soldier ⁎ For All Mankind

Gilmore Girls ⁎ Hawkeye ⁎ Heartstopper ⁎ The Irregulars ⁎ Loki

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel ⁎ Masters of the Air ⁎ My Lady Jane

Nancy Drew ⁎ Never Have I Ever ⁎ Nobody Wants This ⁎ Peaky Blinders

Percy Jackson and the Olympians ⁎ Preacher ⁎ The Queen's Gambit

Riverdale ⁎ Sanditon ⁎ Schmigadoon! ⁎ Sex Education

The Sex Lives of College Girls ⁎ Stranger Things ⁎ Ted Lasso

The Umbrella Academy ⁎ WandaVision ⁎ Why Didn't They Ask Evans?

The Wilds

film:

Avengers: Endgame ⁎ Black Widow ⁎ The Hunger Games ⁎ Inception

King Kong ⁎ Marriage Story ⁎ No Time to Die ⁎ Spider-Man ⁎ Star Trek

Thor: Ragnorak ⁎ Top Gun: Maverick ⁎ Twisters ⁎ Wicked ⁎ Wonder Woman

daisy jones & the six

E / 3k / Eddie x Camila - “Just Like Andy Warhol Said”

T / 1k - “Life and Death in Laurel Canyon”

E / 4k / Karen x Graham - “Typical Wonderful View”

deadly class

E / 5k / Petra x Billy - “Rats’ Waltz”

E / 9k / Petra x Billy x Lex - “We Test on Rats”

dickinson

M / 2k / Emily x Sue - “Another Dickinson”

T / 1k - “How Luscious Lies”

G / 376 / Emily x Sue - “Lands Away”

a discovery of witches (phoebe x marcus)

E / 2k - “Gladly Be a Fool”

E / 3k - “The Night Today”

the falcon and the winter soldier

T / 7k / Sam x Bucky - 3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian

T / 1k - “À la Carter”

E / 5k / Bucky x Sarah - “Chasing Water Pumps”

E / 8k / Sam x Bucky - The Great Madripoorian Snake Off

T / 3k / Bucky x Sarah - “Guest Side Story”

T / 3k / Sam x Bucky - “Never a Gull Moment”

T / 4k / Sam x Bucky - “Stare Enough”

T / 2k / Sam x Bucky - “They're Sayin' (You're Gonna Be My Man)”

for all mankind

T / 1k / Margo x Sergei - “The Bridges of Madison”

G / 286 / Pam x Ellen - “Ode to the Front Porch”

T / 1k - “This Mortal Doyle”

gilmore girls (rory x jess)

E / 11k - Dreams I’ve Yet to Find

E / 24k - You Need Me to Be With You

the hunger games

E / 2k / Peeta x Johanna - “Elevator Pitch”

E / 2k / Katniss x Peeta - “Finally, Finally”

E / 4k / Katniss x Cato - “Lonely at the Top”

loki

G / 1k - “If You're a Robot and You Know It, Clap Your Hands”

G / 1k - “Mr. Second Chance”

T / 2k - “Riding in Cars With Lokis”

my lady jane

T / 1k / Guildford x Jane - “After the Horse Has Bolted”

E / 3k / Jane x Guildford - “Bad Latin”

E / 3k / Jane x Guildford - “Emotionally Stabled”

E / 15k / Jane x Guildford - It's Enough, It's Enough

E / 4k / Guildford x Jane - “Pure Grey”

T / 4k / Stan x Frances - “So, Hey, Check Me Out”

E / 1k / Jane x Guildford - “These Days Forth”

never have i ever (devi x paxton)

E / 4k - “Boy Meets Girlfriend”

M / 2k - “No Harm, No Towel”

T / 4k - “Runaway Ride”

M / 5k - “Swimming the Sonoran”

peaky blinders

E / 15k / Tommy x Grace - The Grand Dream of Things

E / 3k / Tommy x May - “Preferred Pastimes”

percy jackson and the olympians (2023- )

G / 830 / Sally x Poseidon - “but for the grace of gods”

G / 1k - “lullaby for a rottweiler”

T / 1k / Percy x Annabeth - “salt-and-vinegar dreams”

G / 967 / Percy x Annabeth - “soundtrack to a tooth alignment”

M / 875 / Sally x Poseidon - “a tall, tall tale no one believes”

sex education

E / 3k / Ola x Lily - “and the stars (they all aligned)”

E / 2k / Maeve x Isaac - “Please May I…?”

star trek

E / 3k / Bones x Carol - “The Deserted Planet, the Gorgeous Woman, and the Goddamn Torpedo”

E / 7k / Scotty x Jaylah - Something to Fix

stranger things

T / 2k / Steve x Nancy - “Always Mr. Right”

T / 458 / Eddie x Chrissy - “And Here’s to You, Chrissy Cunningham”

T / 1k / Lucas x Max - “The Kate Escape”

T / 1k / Lucas x Max - “The Lovers’ Lake Effect”

ted lasso

E / 8k / Keeley x Rebecca - “Cat Ladies”

T / 1k - “Crimminology”

E / 2k / Roy x Keeley - “The Halftime of It”

E / 3k / Ted x Sassy - “Sass Backwards”

wandavision

E / 34k / Darcy x Jimmy - Hex Life

G / 1k / Wanda x Vision - “Mailbox Blues”

T / 1k / Wanda x Vision - “The Neighbour Never Rings Twice”

G / 1k / Wanda x Vision - “One Papaya, Two Papaya”

T / 26k / Darcy x Jimmy - Only in a Sitcom

G / 1k / Wanda x Vision - “Our Names in a Heart”

why didn’t they ask evans? (frankie x bobby)

E / 2k - “One-Man Chauffeur”

E / 5k - “Sailors’ Hands”

the wilds

T / 2k - “Fourth Coming”

T / 738 - “Interviews by the Pool”

T / 1k / Shelby x Toni - “a verse about expecting the worst”

one-offs

Avengers: Endgame : Dolls' Eyes

Black Widow : “Same Day, Different Jumpsuit”

Bodyguard : “Don’t Ever Let Me Start”

Daybreak : “Garden-Variety Monsters”

Dollface : “Fender Is the Night”

Hawkeye : “An All-American January Christmas”

Heartstopper : “we sum up perfection like a handbook”

Inception (2010) : “Je Ne Regrette Rien”

The Irregulars : “The Sun Is Coming Up (I Think It’s Time)”

King Kong (2005) : “I’m Actually Quite Familiar With Your Work”

Marriage Story (2019) : “the whole night and the next day together”

No Time to Die : “The Blood You Owe”

Nobody Wants This : “find another way (for you)”

Preacher : “Lonely, Handsome”

Sanditon : “Finding Georgiana”

Schmigadoon! : “I Fleetly Flee, I Fly”

The Sex Lives of College Girls : “An Abundance of Caution Tape”

Thor: Ragnorak : “In the Arms of the Anus”

Twisters (2024) : “get ya thinkin' (that you need me)”

The Umbrella Academy : “The Park Across the Way”

Wicked (2024) : “need her like water”

Wonder Woman (2017) : “Unconquered”

my fic masterlists

10 fics - the artful dodger

10 fics - bridgerton

13 fics - the marvelous mrs. maisel (midge x lenny)

12 fics - masters of the air

13 fics - nancy drew

13 fics - the queen's gambit (beth x benny)

38 fics - riverdale

71 fics - spideychelle

21 fics - top gun: maverick

[sketch-pencilpoint]

Final ship post for now I've decided. I want to work on other things. I've got more ships though ;). This one shows of my ocs in relationships

The sweetest. And first narrow guage pairing. If you already know Elliott Scott you know this ship.

- the first time they met, the narrow guages, including Peter sam, were acting distrustful around diesels because of Gorodon. This made things tense between them. This is something they now joke about.

- they first got together a long time after they were infected, as both were too nervous to make the first move. Up until the both of them confessed at once.

- Elliot Scott calls Peter sam Sammy, and Peter Sam calls Elliott Scott Scotty.

- this is more about the human au, but before ps met es he thought no one would find him attractive. Meanwhile es thinks ps is the most genuinely attractive person/beast ever.

- the two like to explore the mountains and forests of the narrow guage line as dates.

Another ship I've already shown off. These two are a something that in my eyes was inevitable as soon as I had a bus oc.

- boba came to sodor as a private bus, so bertie assumed she would be snooty and rude, but of course she isn't. It was a simple, mutual crush after that

- boba likes watching bertie race others and listening to him talk. Bertie like giving Boba little gifts and snuggling up to her at night.

- since boba is mute, she doesn't really have any nicknames for bertie. But he calls her bobo and babe.

- bertie is very protective of Boba, especially when someone is demanding she speak. While Boba can defend herself, she is grateful for someone else to act as her voice.

- when Boba was pregnant with Brandon, before they knew mind, bertie wondered how hard it was to be pregnant, so inspired by a certain red rocket, impregnated himself. This lead to bernie.

The final official tug x engine paring (for now). Gordon is a character who has a lot of ships, but oc x cannon is something I can't resist.

- Gordon, despite his pride, is a doting and attentive partner. Stardust is reassuring, and one to tolerate his rants.

- their relationship began when stardust began to admire Gordon from afar. When they did get together, it took a while before anyone but stardusts siblings were aware.

- he doesn't use pet names, beyond caller her my star, she calls him shooting star and love.

- Gordon refuses to learn to swim. Even if many other engines, including the ones that are in relationships with the tugs, he won't learn. Stardust is the only one who is fully aware of Gordon's fear on the matter.

- they love gossiping and complaining about others. Gordon also enjoys making dust laugh, since she rarely does so around others.

[janeykath318]

Misconceptions: A Bones x reader fluff fic

Note: Set in the same universe as The Wooing of Leonard McCoy and The Rescuing of Leonard McCoy. Reader is the daughter of Chris Pike and Winona Kirk.

“It is a common misconception among the general public that Jim got his wild and crazy streak from George,” you commented, watching your brother and his new husband dancing.

“But if they’d bothered to do some basic observation, they’d have figured out that it comes from Mom,” you said fondly, grinning at your mom.

Bones McHottie Husband nodded in agreement.

“Guilty as charged,” Winona agreed, eyes following Jim and Scotty happily. “Sam was the one that actually took after his dad. And then Y/N ended up with a double dose from both Chris and me. Look out, universe!”

The whole table broke out laughing.

“Dad thanks his stars every day that I didn’t want to be a captain,” you remarked saucily, smirking at your dad. He didn’t even try to deny it, but heaved a dramatic sigh that made you dissolve into a fit of laughter again.

Jim came to collect Winona for their dance and you chatted with Bones and Scotty in the meantime.

“So, Y/N, are we going to be treated to the Kirk/Pike siblings dance again?” Scotty asked. “You put on quite the show at your wedding.”

“Oh, we are,” you confirmed. “Albeit with some modifications.”

“Modifications?”

“The reasons will be revealed in good time,” you said mysteriously, sharing a sly wink with your husband.

Your dad gave you an inquisitive look and you playfully shrugged, wondering how long it would take him to guess.

“I gotta say lass, the tuxedo is a good look on you? How much did Jim twist your arm?”

“Ahh, Jim’s no bridezilla,” you informed your brother-in-law with a chuckle. He told me I could wear what I wanted, but I wanted to match my hubby here, since we don’t get to normally and we are both Groomspeople today.”

You’d never forget the very appreciative whistle Len had given you when you’d emerged in your beautifully tailored dapper finery. Jim’s eyes had widened and he’d joked about being upstaged.

“A very striking couple, indeed,” Scotty complimented. “They don’t settle for less than power couples in this family.”

“We sure don’t,” you confirmed, grinning cheekily at Bones.

“You all live to give me grey hairs. You too, Admiral!” Bones sighed. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You shimmied out of your seat as your mom returned to the table and met Sam’s eyes. He grinned and got up with you.

“Prepare to once again be dazzled!” you said, blowing a kiss to Bones.

The dance was once again a hit, the guests cheering and clapping enthusiastically. Some of the moves were a little different from two years ago, but you gave your whole heart to the performance. After it was over, you and Sam each gave Jim a long hug.

“I love you, big brother,” you told him. “So happy for you.”

“I love you, too, Y/N. You absolutely crushed it out there. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”

“You deserve to be.” You told him. “I think Dad figured out the Secret. He’s making a beeline for me.”

Jim glanced over his shoulder and grinned.

“Oooooh, yeah. Good luck, Y/N. If you need a distraction, just give me the signal and I’ll make a spectacle of myself.”

“You’re the best, Jim,” you grinned, slapping him on the back and heading toward the inevitable discussion with your father.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you jokingly asked. His Concerned Dad face was looking you over very carefully.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“A little warm and slightly winded, but other than that, I’m fine,” you said.

“How’s the nausea?” he asked, going straight to the point. Yep, he had you pegged.

“Kinda intense in the mornings, but Bones has been taking good care of me. How long did it take you to figure it out?”

“After the toasts when you were carefully avoiding your favorite champagne,” he answered. “Also, Leonard seemed even more protective than he usually is and You have that kind of glow your mother did when she was expecting you.”

His face softened and you felt a deep relief.

“We’re not really making an announcement, since I just found out a couple weeks ago and I didn’t want to step on Jim’s day, but we’re pretty excited,” you admitted. “And maybe a little scared.”

“Comes with the territory,” he said. “You’re gonna be a great mom. Come here.”

You were promptly engulfed in a hug and relaxed into the familiar comfort.

“You’d better go end your mom’s suspense. She’s on the edge of her seat with excitement.”

“I bet.” you chuckled. “Ugh. Our kid is gonna have such fabulous genes!”

Your mom was indeed over the moon when you confirmed her suspicions, but she managed to contain her reaction for Jim’s sake.

“One of the first thoughts I had when I first saw Len was honestly: I would have his babies,” you confessed, making Jim chuckle and your husband redden.

“Sounds about right, you incorrigible one track mind woman,” he playfully grumbled. “I honestly don’t know how the universe handles both you and Jim without imploding on itself.”

“A fact I have often pondered,” your dad agreed.

“You know you love me, Len,” you smirked.

“Oh, I do. God help me.”

You chuckled and dragged him away for a good long kiss.

[rosielovesspence]

Hi! Can you do a Scott tenorman x fem Cutecore reader? Scott tenorman is from South Park if you didn’t know, if it’s to hard or you just don’t want to write for that then can you do a Miles Fairchild x fem,cutecore reader? It’s fine if not,anyways have a lovely day/night!

OMG MARI YOU ARE SO COOL! You have a lovely day/night. I had to write for Scott the second you brought him up. So here's our lovely boy trying to charm.

Warning: nothin really, just 9th graders having crushes on eachother, fluff.

Scott was a quieter kid, he listened his music, bullied fourth graders (Cartman's bitch ass) with his friend group and played video-games in class. You weren't as quiet, running around with your friends, wearing pretty and flashy outfits to school and being honestly, the smartest kid in class.

Your newest cute outfit however had all his focus on you recently, your bell bottoms adorned with not only patch flowers but your own scribbled flowers, a plain tank-top and a cute pink sweater. It matched your Mary Janes that you wore constantly. And it had his eyes all over you, he was the average 15-year-old boy, obsessing over a girl in his class.

He tried desperately for the next few days to win you over with his bad boy act, and honestly it did. "Dude, you're a loser." His friends laughed, throwing a comic from one to the other. "I just don't see why you're hung up on that one girl, there are like...forty-seven others in this town." He scoffed. "I'm not 'hung up' on her, i'm just testing my charm." His friends scoffed and laughed. "Well I heard from her friends that it's working, she's like super into you."

So Scott had a plan, he'd ask you out today. Maybe today was three weeks after that conversation but he'd ask today. Only problem, you had those stupid cutesy Mary Janes on, that dumb heart sweater and that stupidly pretty pink skirt. And even worse you smiled and waved when you saw him.

"Hey Y/n..." He mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his waist, giving him a short side-hug. "Hey Scotty!" You giggled and he swore he might melt right there. "It's Scott." He muttered, keeping his 'mean, tough guy' act up. You however did not seem to care if he was stoic with you as you smiled and nodded. "Yep, but I'm calling you Scotty anyway." He could feel himself smiling, you had a charm no boy could resist.

"Hey Y/n..." You looked up at him from your phone with a smile and a tilt of your head, "Yeah?" He noticed you had pink glittery lip gloss on and he just wanted to kiss you right then and there. He truly thought about it, and the way the glitter would stain his own lips. "Scott, you there?" He's brought out of his daydream by your confused face. And he just goes for it. He cups your face in his hands and smears your pretty lip gloss all over both of your lips as he presses his lips to yours. You squeak quietly, taken aback by his actions before leaning into the kiss with ease.

Scott leaned back with a large smile, a rare thing to see. "Go out with me...please." The 'please' was quiet and whispered and you cracked a smile yourself. "Yes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so you went out with him, deciding to walk around the mall. You running into every cute clothing store you could find and him awkwardly following you like a puppy. Once you ran into a comic store he was confused. "You like this kind of stuff?" You shook your head, "Not really, this is more for you to have fun looking around." Your eyes lit up forever as you picked up a stuffed animal. "But I also like the Hello Kitty and Sailor Moon stuff!" He chuckled, tilting his head as he watched you rummage through the stuffed animals.

"Oh my gods!" He raised his eyebrow and you pulled out a small penguin, he had no idea why a small penguin with a hat and bow had you so excited. "He's Tuxedo Sam, my favorite Sanrio character." you giggled as if it was obvious, he was even more confused. "Sanrio?" You raised your brows. "You don't-...actually it makes sense you don't know, nevermind. It's a Hello Kitty thing." And then he got it. "Ah, I see. You want him?" He asked, motioning to the stuffed animal you still cuddled in your arms.

You nodded softly and he chuckled. "Hand him over, I'll go pay." You raised a brow, "Do you have enough?" He pretended to be offended, "Y/n, are you calling me poor?" You laughed and shook your head, handing Sam over to him. "No, I'm just sayin that cause I don't have enough. My allowance wasn't as much as usual." He nodded. "Don't worry, I got enough for little Sammy here." He joked, and you followed him to the counter where he payed for it and handed it back to you. "Alright, any other clothing stores you wanna walk through? Or are we at that point when I buy you every cute food item you see?" He looked down at you and you laughed, "Nah, let's go look at your kind of stuff now." You blushed and cradled the small stuffed animal in your arms.

So now you had a quiet sweet boyfriend named Scoot who took you shopping and read you his comics.

[sunnyie-eve]

21 | Little Pranks

Series: Significant

Paring: Colby Brock x Original female character

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k

| MASTERLIST |

~

"Elton, what the hell are you doing now?" Penelope comes home early to see hay and farm animals inside the house.

"You came home early but surprise! We have a petting zoo now." He smiles.

"I'm not helping clean up. But I'm gonna go change and then I'm gonna hug all of the animals." She rushes upstairs to change clothes then rushes back downstairs to hold a kid in her overalls to fit the prank.

"Penelope, how do you think the others will react?" Scotty asks her as she holds a duck in her lap.

"For starters, they're gonna have trust issues as soon as they see that you're back because of the last time you were here for Elton's prank. But when they see in the house they will instantly love the prank. Especially Devyn. I bet she tears up." She puts the duck down.

"How come when I go to pick up the alpaca they run away from me but not for you?" Elton watches her pick one up.

"Animals love me. You know how easy it was for Circa to take a liking to me." She laughs.

"That's true." Elton thinks back, "They're home!" Elton rushes out so Penelope follows with Scotty.

"Dressed like my ancestors, Elton." Colby tells him.

"And I'm back too." Scotty smiles.

"If he's back, I'm scared 'cause last time he was here." Colby points at him.

"What did I tell you." Penelope points now.

"You called it."

"Penelope are you part is this?" Sam looks at her.

"No." She laughs.

"She came home early so she knows and joined the part with the look." Elton tells the house as they all walk towards the door and everyone was nervous.

Entering the house they were all surprised and they loved what they saw, "You turned our house into a petting zoo." Sam says.

"You get a goat. You get a goat. And you get a goat." Elton passes them out.

"I'm even spot on with Devyn." Penelope points out, "I know my roommates so well." Penelope picks up a duck. They all take a group photo for a thumbnail, "Here." Penelope holds out the duck to Corey and Devyn.

Penelope takes a seat on hay and the kid goes up laying on her lap waiting to be petted. "He likes you." Colby takes a picture of them.

"If I kiss him will he become a Prince?" She jokes as the goat moves away to play mess with the others.

"I guess not." Colby laughs. "So technically you still haven't really been pranked yet?" He takes a seat next to her.

"Nope, none of you guys have pulled anything on me yet so I've been scared."

"I can't even think of a good one to get you back for the two times you've done it to me." He tells her.

"I'm sure you will come up with something." She gets up and goes upstairs.

Suddenly he comes up with a cruel little prank that's bad for him and Penelope technically. For the next few days, he works on it and gets Megan to show up for the prank.

"You hate me so why am I here?" She enters the house.

"Well, you said you hate Tyson for cheating on you and I got some dirt on him that you can use but you have to do this for me." He explains to her.

Since everything when Penelope and Megan see each other, they aren't budding heads that much anymore since Megan expressed how she hates Tyson too. They weren't friends but acquaintances who couldn't stand each other.

Colby explains the whole thing to Megan then they get in his bed and talk because when Penelope gets home she normally goes straight to Colby's room to let him know she's home since he made that a rule for her.

Penelope stops outside the door hearing giggles so she knocks waiting for an answer so Colby calls out to come in. As soon as she sees Megan in the bed with him she looks at Colby so Megan kisses Colby.

"Some fucking friend you are Colby." She slams his door going downstairs upset with him.

"You weren't supposed to do that!" Colby shoves Megan away from him, "You can go now. I'll send you the video later." Colby grabs his camera to tell Penelope it was a prank.

"Penny?" Sam gets worried seeing her tear up as he walks into the house.

"Penelope it was just a prank!" Colby comes rushing downstairs.

"Just a prank? What kind of prank? Disappointed your best friend by sleeping with a bitch who treats me like shit?" Penelope shouts making everyone home pay attention to them.

"Yes but no... Look, I knew this would go bad but,"

She cuts him off, "Yet you still did it? What did you think was gonna happen with her in your bed that she wouldn't force herself on you again?"

"You invited Megan over?" Sam says as she comes downstairs with a smile saying she's just leaving, "Dude, we kicked her out for a reason member and you bring her back?"

"You went personally low, Colby." Penelope walks out the front door driving off not wanting to be home right now.

Colby looks at everyone looking at him, "You really used someone who treats her like shit to prank her? She wasn't wrong, Colby. That was personally low." Corey tells him and Devyn agrees.

Colby goes to Penelope's room and sits on her bed alone hoping she would come home soon so he could apologize. He deletes the entire prank not wanting to post it then goes to his room for another prank he had planned for another time. Going back to her room, he hangs posters of himself in her room that cover an entire wall floor to ceiling.

By the time he finished, Penelope arrived back home so he hid his camera and got in her closet cracking it to see a bit.

Walking into her room Penelope stares at her wall with all the posters of Colby. From serious to shirtless to funny to baby Colby. "Are you serious?"

"Pranked you!" Colby comes out while she stares at him. "I probably should have gone with this one in the first place. I deleted the other one because I can't post that. As you said it was low of me and I'm sorry for making you cry. I wanted to upset you like you did to me twice but I went overboard. I fake like I broke one of the rules I live by and I brought over someone who treats you like shit. I was a terrible best friend and I'm so sorry." Colby apologized to her.

"You should've gone with this one first." She smiles a bit, "Because this is also terrible, I see you every day and now I have to see you when I try to fall asleep as well." She laughs making him smile she wasn't as upset with him anymore.

"We good?"

"We're good." She gives him a hug just to give him a wedge making him shout out, "That's what you get for making me cry." She laughs at him.

~

"Pen, Pen!" Sam walks towards her room.

"Yes?" She opens her door.

"Do you want to help me in Colby's room?" He gives her a smile so she follows to see what he was doing causing her to laugh.

"Give a stack." She puts her hand out. They both do it till Kat, Devyn, Corey, and Aaron join to help fill up the wall till they finish.

The next morning she hears Sam and Corey in Colby's room so she walks in giving Colby a wave, "At least your new wallpaper isn't as bad as my wall of you." She takes a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, I like this."

"Of course you do." She goes back to her room to lie down on her phone.

"How much did you help Sam?" Colby walks into her room.

"I was the first because he asked me and to be fair I only did it because of my wall." She motions to it.

"But it's your best friend." He walks over getting in her bed still tired.

"Again I see you every day. I don't need a wall of you as well." She locks her phone rolling over to face him.

"But you love me." He pokes her.

"Not that much to wanting a wall of you." She laughs so he pulls her closer to him to hold.

"Just love your best friend, Peeps."

[skyguywrites]

scotty carter x sam howlett.

[killeroos]

what's our total vk/aussie ship count at this point, like 7?

uhhh let's see, josh, maxi, pat, sam, and steve obviously. tim paine x vk seem to have chemistry together, especially in 2018. johnson x vk is definitely a hatesex ship considering how close they came to brawling in the 2014 bgt. vk x cam green have potential from their rcb days. according to an interview alyssa gave once, a young vk tried to chat up her and elysse at a domestic game once. vk x travis maybe? baby trav played for rcb, and rcb is more of a "vk's boyfriends association" than a serious cricket team atp 🤣🤣 vk and uzzie have been great friends since vk was 16/17. there's a case to be made for vk/scotty boland considering how many times he's got him out. vk/zamps falls in the same category. so there's definitely around 15 vk/aussie ships lmaooo

if we go according to the idea that you can't debut for australia unless you've slept with vk, does that mean mcsweeney and webster were also subject to the same rule? considering they debuted in this bgt along with sam 🤭😜

ohhhh true!! pat, alyssa, heady, uzzie, scotty and zorba all definitely make sense as potential vk ships too ✍️✍️

who else... starcy, faulkner, watto, davey, punter, stoinis, sabba - wow he's unbelievably shippable 😭

we could definitely go with that idea! even though the thought of mcsweeney pursuing virat is incredibly funny it's certainly not impossible

[harvsboy]

who I'll write for

the hub || masterlist

my favorite to write for are highlighted pink

>> content creators

chuckle sandwich

## ted nivison, jschlatt, charlie slimecicle

>> games

detroit become human

## connor, kara, hank, markus, nines, gavin

stardew valley

## harvey, sam, sebastian, leah, haley, maru

>> tv / movies

mcu

## loki, mobius, matt murdock, spiderman / peter parker (tom holland / andrew garfield)

doctor who

## tenth doctor

star trek

## pavel chekov, james kirk, spock, scotty, leonard mcoy

good omens

## azirephale, crowley

criminal minds

## spencer reid, emily prentiss, aaron hotchner

x-files

## dana scully, fox mulder

ninjago

## zane, nya, kai, cole, jay, llyod