#scott turn your location on i just wanna talk

[twistersobsessed]

boone request !! i would love to see kate bringing along her friend from new york who’s like a girl version of scott !! maybe she’s a bit in love with scott but it’s one sided so she finds comfort in boones sweet nature and falls for him

His Warmth Melts Ice | Boone x Reader

Warnings: Weed, reader smokes

A/N: No one can convince me Boone isn’t a stoner.

You were in a bad mood. You were almost always in a bad mood but today’s mood was particularly foul. Because of a man. You cursed yourself for letting a man have this much of an effect on your mood.

It’s not like you were in love with Scott but he was exactly your type and the two of you basically had the same personality. So his cold indifference to you hurt. He was meaner to Kate though.

Scott was currently ignoring you both, in an argument with Javi. “I’m gonna go get a drink,” you mumbled to Kate. “Okay,” she patted your arm. You made your way to the convenience store, trailing behind Tyler Owens and his crew.

They all filed into the store but the last guy, Tyler’s camera man, you recognized him, caught a glimpse of you behind him. His eyes widened and he stepped back to hold the door open for you. His friend gave him a weird look.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, walking past him.

You were getting a slushie from the machine when the same guy sidled up next to you. “Hey,” he greeted you eagerly. “I’m Boone. You’re Kate’s friend, right?” You briefly wondered how Boone knew Kate’s name, but then remembered Tyler talking to Kate yesterday.

“Yeah,” you answered coldly. You didn’t offer your name. This didn’t deter Boone though. “What’s your name, honey?”

You side-eyed him. He wasn’t really your type, but you had to admit he was cute.

“(Name),” you replied after a minute.

“(Name),” he repeated, your name rolling off his tongue smoothly. “What a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You kept your face carefully blank and didn’t respond.

“Boone!” Tyler barked from the door. “Come on!” Boone gave him the finger before turning back to you. “Gotta go. See you around, East Coast!”

You watched him follow Tyler out the door. You rolled your neck before capping your slushie and paying for it up at the counter. Then you made your way back to Javi and Kate.

The second time you talked to Boone was at a local bar. Both Storm Par and the Wranglers had coincidentally chosen the location to unwind for the night after a day of chasing. You were sat at the bar, pounding back drinks. Maybe you had some alcoholic tendencies.

“East Coast!” A cheerful voice rang out.

You turned on the bar stool to face Boone. “Boone,” you greeted flatly. His eyes wandered over to the plethora of empty glasses on the counter in front of you. “Good lord, girl,” he whistled. “How are you not knocked on your ass right now?”

You shrugged.

“Wanna dance?”

“I don’t dance.”

“I can teach you.”

“I don’t dance.”

Boone shrugged, helping himself to the stool next to you. “That’s alright, baby, we can just sit here.”

You felt your cheeks warm. You blamed it on the alcohol.

“So tell me, East Coast, what brings you ‘round these parts?”

You sipped from your waterbottle. “Javi brought Kate on board to help track storms because she’s a natural at predicting all things tornado. I came for moral support.”

“Aw, what a sweet friend you are,” Boone beams at you. “How long have you and Kate been friends?”

Normally you’d be sarcastic until he stopped asking questions, but the liquor loosened your tongue and lowered your defenses. “Five years. We met her first week in New York.”

Boone seemed genuinely interested. “Tell me about you, East Coast.”

It had been a long time since anyone wanted to hear anything about you. You didn’t know what to say. Boone seemed to pick up on how the question stumped you. “What’s something you love?”

“The ocean,” you answered in a heartbeat.

Boone blinked. “The ocean?”

You nodded, getting a far off look in your eye. “I’m at home when I’m near the sea.”

“Well you’re a far way from home, East Coast.”

You shrugged.

“Any siblings?”

“Two younger brothers.”

Boone hummed. “That’s nice, I always wanted a sibling growing up.”

“You’re an only child?”

“Yup!” Boone exclaimed. “But Tyler’s like my brother.”

You both looked over to Tyler, who was currently in a staredown with Javi while Kate stood between them looking uncomfortable.

“Oh lord,” you muttered. You stood to go intervene, but Boone stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “Let it play out,” he encouraged. “That lil love triangle is their problem.”

It was true, you really didn’t feel like getting involved. “Yeah, okay,” you grumbled, turning back in your seat. You flagged down the bartender for another shot. He set it down in front of you and you knocked it back while Boone watched you.

“Well it was nice talking to you,” you told Boone flatly. Although while you’d never admit it out loud, you’d enjoyed it. You stood on shockingly steady feet, and Boone mirrored your action. “Aw, you leavin’?”

“Yup.” You stood awkwardly, unsure of the right way to end this interaction. Something felt wrong about just walking away.

Almost like Boone sensed your inner turmoil again, he held out his hand. You took it reluctantly, and Boone raised your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” Boone winked, before turning and making his way back to his group. You watched him go, caught off guard by the move. You shook your head like the physical action would clear your thoughts before tipping the bartender and going back to your motel room.

The third time you talked to Boone was in a much more intimate setting. It was late, real late, late enough that the tailgate outside the motel was packing up as everyone headed to bed. You’d been stargazing in a field, so you were late coming back to your room.

You spotted him before he spotted you this time. Tyler’s truck was parked right next to the stairs you’d need to take to your room. Boone was sitting in the bed of the truck with one of his crew members, the girl with short hair who you always saw in the RV. The rest of his crew wasn’t around, you assumed they’d gone to bed.

You didn’t say anything nor look at him as you went to ascend the stairs, but despite that…

“Hey, ocean girl!” Boone’s friend called to you. You don’t think she’s talking to you at first, but there’s no one else around.

“Sorry?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Come talk to Boone, he’s been missing you!”

“Dani!” Boone scowled and hit her lightly in the arm.

You felt a smile creep onto your face and turned it into a smirk. You walked over to them, standing in front of the truck bed and crossing your arms.

“Booney baby,” you cooed mockingly. “Did you miss me?”

Boone’s face turned bright red and you accidentally giggled. A grin spread across Boone’s flushed face at the sound. Emboldened by a show of your real emotions, he responded, “Maybe I did.”

Dani glanced between you two, smirking before standing and jumping out the bed of the truck. She motioned for you to take her place. “I’m going to bed. You two have fun,” she winked.

Reluctantly, you did end up taking her place in the bed of the truck.

“You smoke?” Boone asked, pulling out a bong. “I do.” Who were you to turn down free weed?

Boone grinned, setting the bong between his feet and pulling out a grinder. As he began packing the bowl, you asked, “So why’d your friend call me ‘ocean girl’?”

Boone didn’t look at you as he continued to pack the bowl. His cheeks turned pink but you could hardly tell in the lighting. “I might have mentioned you.”

“What’d you say?” you asked curiously.

“Ask me later.” Boone handed you the bong and pulled out a lighter. He lit the bowl for you and you took a hit. You passed it back to Boone. Boone took a hit. “So what are you doing coming back to your room so late?” He passed you the bong.

“I was stargazing in a field,” you answered before putting your lips to the bong. Boone watched you intensely as you took a hit and blew the smoke. “That sounds nice,” he finally said. He took the bong when you offered.

“It was.” You’d only taken two hits, but as large as they were and as good as Boone’s weed was, you were feeling pleasantly relaxed.

“Why are you up so late?”

Boone blew smoke. “Oh I’m always the last one to go to bed, I smoke before I sleep every night.”

Boone continued lighting the bowl for you every time it was your turn.

You finished the bowl and you were both perfectly high. The conversation flowed as you both relaxed in the truck bed. Time flew by and before you knew it, you’d been there for an hour.

“Hey,” you said with a smirk. “Guess what it is.”

Boone looked confused. “Huh?”

“It’s later,” you drawled. “So what did you tell your friends about me?”

Boone was high enough that he actually answered you truthfully.

“They been askin’ bout you since I held the door open for you at the gas station. Cause they noticed how interested in you I was. Then I learned a little about you and of course they demanded to know what…”

“Why were you so interested in me?”

“I thought you were real pretty,” Boone said simply. “And I’m loving every second of getting to know you.”

You blushed, thankful it was dark out and he probably couldn’t see it. You didn’t know what to say now though. “...Thank you,” you eventually managed. “It’s been… nice to get to know you too.” Weed made you too honest.

Uncomfortable with how intimate it had become, not because of Boone but just because of your anxiety, you clambered out of the truck bed. “Goodnight, Boone. Thanks for the sesh.” You didn’t know what to do to let him know he hadn’t done anything wrong, so you just reached into the bed and patted his thigh. Then you turned and went to your room.

Boone was weird after that. Your message hadn’t gotten across, because Boone one hundred percent believed he had scared you off.

You felt awful, for some reason, and even Scott had noticed the absolute drop in your mood. Kate was worried.

You found yourself seeking him out after a week because he hadn’t sought you out. You couldn’t get a chance to get him alone, but you knew you had to talk to him. So you boldly approached his entire group at a tailgate a week later.

Boone looked excited to see you, to your relief.

“East Coast! You comin’ to see me?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “I did. Could we take a walk? I wanted to talk to you.”

Boone jumped down from the top of the truck, eagerly following you. You both fell into step side by side next to the empty road.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” you said quietly.

“Aw, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.”

Boone looked at you but you looked away.

“I just got nervous.”

Boone was silent for a moment. “Yeah?” His voice was quiet.

“If you were saying that you like me, I like you too.”

Boone stopped walking, grabbing your shoulders in his hands. “Can I kiss you?” He almost whispered the question. You nodded eagerly. Boone cupped your face in his hands and kissed you sweetly.

You felt your heart start beating faster.

You clung to Boone’s shirt as he kissed you. His mustache tickled under your nose, but it was soft.

When Boone pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. “So do you maybe wanna go on a date?”

You smiled genuinely, purely happy.

“Definately.”

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

hey. @mcybree here. can i get those “every time scott tries to imply pearl isnt trustworthy” transcripts if possible (<- guy who loves having traffic scott transcripts to use in posts)

non-exhaustive but there wouldn’t be much anyway because gem and pearl only teamed up pretty late into the season, these are just the ones that got me going huh

Scott: So… this is where we’re going to be hoping that all of my social games have paid off well! And that people don’t come and try and kill me.

-

Scott, five minutes later: Gem, Gem. Gem: Uh-huh? Scott: I want you to remember that both of us [Impulse was there] let us kill— let you kill us so that you can… Gem: I’m not gonna kill you! Scott: You have to make sure that no matter what other alliances you have, this is the top one. Gem: Scott, you can’t be lecturing me on having other alliances, you’re friends with everyone, you’re friends with the apocalypse! Scott: Yeah, I’m friends with everyone, but I mean— you’re still number one! I would never go for— Gem: I’ve never been in one of these, but I think it’s getting down to the wire, like we are going to have to pick and choose. And I think if we’re going to pick and choose, I think being with the Mounders who are right there and against the Heart Foundation…

(and both povs cut off here or earlier so)

-

Gem: What do you think, Scott? [talking about base locations or some trival thing] Scott: You’re the one who made the alliance. [pause] Gem: Oh my god, it’s so complicated, I don’t wanna be in charge of people anymore. Pearl (overlapping): Wow.

-

Cleo: We’re mostly talking about how stacked that team is over there. Scott: What, the Mounders? Cleo: Yeah. Incredibly stacked right now. Scott (overlapping): Yeah… Gem: They’re my besties! Cleo, skeptical: Are they? Gem: I murdered them and they decided to be my friend. Scott: Yeah, I don’t quite get it either, but… Cleo: I mean, Gem doesn’t know quite how this goes on red. Not really. Scott, again: Yeah… Cleo: So, um. Okay! You go be besties, that’s, um, cool. Scott: See you later! Cleo, to Gem: I’m telling you now. I’m telling you now, that team’s loyalty is at best, uh… Grian: Tenuous. Cleo: Scott can tell you, Scott can tell you rather than me. You’ll believe Scott about their loyalty rather than, you know. [very short, almost imperceptible pause] Gem: What about your loyalty? Cleo: Ask Scott about my loyalty! […]

quick aside here but i love how “the mounders” in this context clearly refers to “pearl”. like gem says “i murdered them”. wrong. she murdered pearl. cleo says scott can tell you about “their loyalty”. wrong. the only occasion where someone in the mounders made a perceived slight on both cleo AND scott was pearl.

-

Scott: At what point do we betray the alliance with the Mounders? […] Gem: Grian needs to go first. Impulse: Grian first and then, right then? Gem: Yeah. Impulse (jokingly): Don’t take any time to celebrate, just turn right away. Scott: I know [the Mounders] will [turn], that’s the thing. […] Gem: (sighs) Yeah. Kill Joel and Bdubs first, though. Scott: Okay.

-

Gem: (gets hit) Pearl, no! Team, Pearl, team. Scott: Can’t team with her.

-

Gem: (hit by arrow) Ow. Scott, automatically: That was Pearl. Gem: Pearl! Scott: Just remember that. Gem: How rude.

-

[Joel dies] Scott: Nice, Gem! Gem: Nice, nice. That wasn’t me, that wasn’t me. Scott: It wasn’t you? That means it was Pearl! [it was not] Or— Gem: Scar! [it was not] Scar’s here.

[themculibrary]

Hope van Dynes & Tony Stark Masterlist

5 Candid Photos of Tony Stark and the 1 Candid Photo of Iron Man (ao3) - dls

Summary: Iron Man, optional. Tony Stark, preferred.

Ant-Man (ao3) - WaywardKeener scott/hope T, 8k

Summary: Scott just wants to see his daughter. Hope wants the tech out of Darren's hands. Hank is with his daughter but disagrees on who they should trust about this mission to stop Darren.

Better Than Before (Yesterday’s Gone) (ao3) - Meatball42 tony/hope G, 2k

Summary: Hope knows she has what it takes to be an Avenger. It’s getting along with her prospective teammates that worries her- and one of them in particular.

bound by a promise to the moon (ao3) - graveltotempo tony/stephen G, 80k

Summary: In 1990, Carol Danvers, James Rhodes, Stephen Strange, Tony Stark and Hope Van Dyne get drunk and make a blood oath.

daddy, watch your little black sheep run (ao3) - paperclipbitch tony/hope T, 10k

Summary: “Just so we’re clear,” Hope says, breathless, hands tangled in Tony’s hair and eyes bright, “we’re only doing this to piss off my dad, okay?”

“Hang on,” Tony replies, fumbling with the back of her bra, “I thought we were doing this to piss off my dad.”

Field Trip 2.0 (ao3) - Angeeelatin pepper/tony G, 3k

Summary: Because the Academic Decathlon team won nationals this year, they were awarded with field trips. Yes, field trips. Plural. Because they had already visited Stark Industries, their destinations this time were a bit more diverse in location. They were going to the White House, and Pym Technologies.

For some reason, Peter has higher clearance than he should have.

Or: I introduce another character into the Peter Parker & SI- verse, Hope Van Dyne

hey, babe? I think I wanna marry you (ao3) - graveltotempo tony/hope G, 6k

Summary: five times tony stark proposed to hope van dyne, and one time she proposed to him (spoiler alert: he said yes).

Hope Burns Bright Despite All Darkness (ao3) - starbuck92 hank/janet, pepper/tony, scott/hope T, 13k

Summary: “There’s no manual on how to raise kids when you do what we do.”

Parenting isn’t easy, even for genuine superheroes. It turns out that growing up with only one of those parents isn’t a walk in the park either.

la petite souer (ao3) - starbuck92 T, 8k

Summary: Christmas wasn’t his favorite time of the year. Unlike other kids, Tony didn’t have the best memories of the holiday season, and even into his adulthood, it hadn’t gotten much better after the death of his parents. He ignored as much as he could, shutting himself in his garage or in the lab to tinker with anything that would occupy his brain for hours at a time, usually ending the nights either drunk off his ass or in bed with someone - or both, more often than not.

Christmas through Hope’s eyes, however, was magical.

Little Boxes (ao3) - TenSpencerRiedPlease tony/t’challa, steve/tony (not endgame) N/R, 33k

Summary: When Tony had been in his twenties he’d been all fast cars, snarky remarks, and promiscuous enough that he offended people with it. Now people talked about how Steve tamed him like he had been a wild animal or some shit. And Steve didn’t tame him at all, he fucking gutted him.

*

T'Challa doesn’t need another PhD but its better than dealing with political responsibilities at home and he came to America under the guise of doing his best to understand various world cultures. His stint to America is to waste time and avoid his political duties as a prince but his father approved anyways. Probably because he sensed that if he didn’t T’Challa would do what he wants anyways.

Midnight Lab Break-Ins (ao3) - purplecatsweater pepper/tony, background hope/scott G, 5k

Summary: Tony, suddenly a little shy, ducks slightly behind his father.

Rage Makes Fire Hotter (ao3) - Tempest_Raining scott/hope G, 4k

Summary: Hope van Dyne was not happy with the Rogue Avengers for what they did to themselves, the world, and Tony Stark. In fact, she was pretty pissed. Perhaps it was time she let them know it.

Or: The One Where Hope van Dyne Scares The Rogue Avengers For Various Reasons.

Stronger than Blood (ao3) - marvelfoodlover rhodey/tony, pepper/hope G, 6k

Summary: Many believed that a Pym and a Stark can never be in same room without disagreeing. Everyone knew about the hostility Hank Pym had for Howard Stark, and it wasn’t a secret that the the feeling is mutual.

Everybody knew it. So what comes next is quite the surprise.

That Bridge was Burnt (ao3) - Lp37451 (BirdieBats) tony/stephen, carol/rhodey, scott/hope G, 27k

Summary: The Rogues are back, Tony doesn't care for them anymore but Stephen Strange and Tony Stark have a surprising amount in common.

the legacies are (not) alright (ao3) - MarvelousAvengfulSlytherin G, 2k

Summary: Hope changed, Sharon fought and Tony reinvented. How they became an unlikely family and decided to change things. Life isn't fair after all so why should any of them be?

[starshipsofstarlord]

Bucky Finding Out That You Faked an Orgasm...

Warnings | smut, hurt feelings

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Well let’s just say, it was your mistake to speak about your sex life in the common room with Nat. Being a trained avenger, usually well around of your surroundings, you should have known better

It didn’t bother the Black Widow, she had nothing to hide, she just wanted a glass of wine and a bedroom talk with her friend

Bucky would be walking around the corner, about to surprise you, after FRIDAY telling him where you were; he had arrived home early after a mission

As he hears your voice, he smiles to himself, more so when he hears that you are speaking about him. It really makes him love you that little bit more, and appreciate everything you do for him

Though as he listens more, he really gets how much you do for his own sake

“You got anything your hiding from lover boy Barnes?” Natasha’s question makes him shake his head, because you tell each other everything

But the pause that comes before your response makes him nervous, fiddling with his vibranium fingers as he hears you take in a deep sigh

He shouldn’t be doing this, violating your privacy, but in his defence, you are in a very public area of the compound, if he wasn’t standing here then someone else like Scott would be. The only difference is, he’d be vigilant, using his suit that made him the size of a tic tac

“Well....” that didn’t sound good, as you elongated the syllable, and Bucky cranes his neck around the corner subtly to watch you take a swig out of your glass

“Come on y/l/n.” Yes, come on y/n, he thinks, his mind thinking just like Nat’s. The only difference is that he doesn’t voice it

“The other day, when I got back from my mission in Vienna, I was just so tired, and Buck wanted to have sex.”

He recalled that, watching you drop your avenging suit before him as you climbed into the bed with him, in nothing more than your underwear. He couldn’t resist, and it ended in a good time for the both of you...

“And?”

“I faked cumming, so I could go to sleep.”

His eyes went wide, and he stepped back, audibly walking away as the sound worried you

Glancing round the corner, you saw his back walking away, and it sent you into panic mode. Obviously he heard, and in that moment you couldn’t feel more guilty.

“Nat I’ve got to go.” She understood, as you headed back to your shared room with the super soldier, and when you entered, you found him sat in bed, a book in his hand.

His jaw was tense, putting you on edge

You tried to speak to him, though it seemed that the man was insistent on not speaking to you

He was giving you the silent treatment

“Fine.” You sat the other side of the bed, tugging at the book, well aware of how childish the pair of you must have looked fighting over a book

The item ended up ripped in half, and Bucky quirked a stern and unimpressed eyebrow towards you

“Couldn’t you have let me finish?” He jabbed at you, sighing loudly, as he turned to you, awaiting for you to get whatever apology you had thought of out

“I’m sorry.” Of course you were, he could read the sadness and guilt that was resonating behind your eyes.

As he grunted, the man crossed his arms, lightly scratching the scruff on his chin

You couldn’t help but ask, “why are you so bothered about it?” Because he seemed more bothered about this than by any of your previous fights.

“Back in my day, it never used to matter if a woman didn’t cum, it was all for the man’s pleasure. I don’t wanna feel like I’m stuck in that life”

Now you understood, and thus, you began stroking down his closest arm, which so happened to be the vibrating prosthetic

“Well then, how about we erase memories from that time we had sex. And make new ones?” He was wary

“You promise you’re not going to fake it?”

Of course you werent

Overstimulation, that’s all imma say

And so you can expect that he was going to town on you, eating your pussy out until you came in his mouth like five times

Using his fingers until your pussy is ThrObbInG

And he for sure knows that none of them are fakes, as he watches your wetness drip down the lips of your pussy and soak your bedsheets

First when he gets his cock out, hed take you from behind as he pounds your pussy, wrapping his hand through your hair

He’d definitely make remarks about you faking an orgasm and lying to him, giving your ass sudden spanks as he rams in and out of you, leaving it nice and red for his eyes to roam

Probably choke you a little too as he pulls your body up against him,pinching your breasts as he mutters words against the junction of your neck and shoulder

Biting down on your shoulder, because he wants you to have marks after this to remember the consequences of your little stunt

Before he’s about to cum, he would pull out, making you whine, as he picks you up like a rag doll, pinning you against the wall as he roughly fucks you against it

You’d claw at his back as your head repeatedly hits against the wall, making you slightly dizzy

This would last for hours, in between, he’d go back to eating you out, shoving his tongue into your well fucked entrance.

Eventually you’d pass out, and when you woke up, you’d find yourself clothed in one of his shirts, as he is sat in bed next to you, another goddamn book in his hand

“Oh, you’re awake.” He’d nonchalantly review, his eyes still on the pages as he flips through its contents. “Why don’t you finger fuck yourself for me, so I know that you weren’t faking it with me earlier?”

You’d about die then and there, as you’re still feeling rather sore. But you have a safe word for a reason, though, you want to prove to him that you’re willing to do make it up to him anyway

And so you spread your legs, pulling apart the lips of your swollen pussy as you locate your entrance and slip a finger inside, whimpering as you stared at your boyfriend, as he shuffles about to kneel before you

His dick is hard but he pays no mind to it, as he reaches past your hand and slaps your slit, emitting sounds of pain and pleasure from you

“Tired?” He’d tease, and you’d nod as your covering your hand with your juices, tears running down your face.

“Good, you’re gonna keep going until you can’t keep those pretty eyes open again doll”

Let’s just say you didn’t last too long until that happened, and from it, you had learnt that you were going to fake another orgasm again

You had another mission the next day.

As you sat on the quinjet, Bucky smugly stared at you from across the harbour, watching as you shuffled uncomfortably, feeling every ounce of soreness as you tried to remain as vigilant for the reason for your pain as possible

“Oi, you alright y/n?” Clint’d ask you, as you hummed an okay out. Though Bucky would not let that suffice as the only answer

“Don’t lie y/n.” He tutted with a smirk behind the archer’s back. “She didn’t get much rest last night, I think you spent too much time talking with Nat.”

[hermitcrossovers]

mcc verse; the beginning

“the mcc update is up! do you wanna watch with me?” someone asked excitedly to their friend. 

“give me a mo, i need to finish this thing. anything for this mcc?” their friend responded. 

“well,” they drawled out, “if you finished that thing you’ve been doing five minutes ago you would have already figured it out.”  

“alright, alright. i’m coming.”

---

the video starts in a seating area in noxcrew’s office. scott and nox sat on opposite couches with standing microphones next to them. 

nox tapped on his microphone, “is this thing on?” he asked with a smug grin. 

scott rolled his eyes, “you do this every time we make a video. get some new jokes, our viewers must be tired of that.” 

“well let’s not focus on our debbie downer here but welcome everybody to this month’s championship event update video! i’m your host nox here live with scott major. now scott there are some surprising team ups at play here and a handful of new faces that have been highly requested from our viewers. were these teams by request of the players or your own doing?” 

the icons of the ten teams appeared across the screen with the team members underneath as nox talked. 

“no, actually most of these teams are requested by players besides a few match ups to make the team more even,” scott turned to the camera and winked, “there are several teams to look out for this month. everybody's favorite winners are the blue bat and pink parrots!” 

“but moving on to the actual updates. the philza head in space race is going to be a permanent resident from the overwhelming positive response from our viewers. we, also, have seen wilbur’s very loud defense of philza so we have added a wilbur head somewhere in space race to accompany phil.”

philza’s and wilbur’s head popped up on the screen with phil’s face covered by a mocking ‘old’ over it and a matching ‘simp’ over wilbur’s.

“now wilbur,” scott playfully wagged his finger towards the camera, “just because you’re in space race does not mean you have our permission to woo ace race. since we’re on the topic of old people, the jump to burgers but fast has been made shorter after many unforeseen complaints from players.”

“a new addition has been made to the food court, moo-pop and elven cookies, supplied by our very own goodtimeswithscar! his shoppe is located on the south-east edge of the mcc island. maybe this will stop him sneaking slushies' to unaware players, no matter how good that surprise is. with this wraps up our update video. hopefully you will be able to catch mcc live and participate!” 

nox and scott’s faces faded out and the screen transitioned to the end card.

[honestlyfrance]

SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

or

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Or

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Or

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Or

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Or

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

OR

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

masterlist | ko-fi | patreon

[kaunis-sielu]

October Challenge 22

Cabin in the Woods

You change your fitting time to eight am, Steve drives you over but you make him wait in the car. You won’t be having him sneak a look at your dress no matter how much he flirts and flatters to get to. The dress fits perfectly, the length is exactly right and you cannot wait to see Steve’s face when you walk down the aisle.

You head back downstairs and when you don’t see Steve’s truck you’re confused so you call him.

“Yea Honey?”

“Where are you?”

“Went to pick up some breakfast. You done?”

“Yes.”

“Wait inside the building for me okay Honey?”

“Okay.” You agree, you almost text Pepper to come down but instead you stay on the phone with Steve. “Where did you go for breakfast?”

“The Bagel Place. I got you a strawberry banana smoothie and a breakfast sandwich.”

“You are the love of my life.” You tell him as your stomach grumbles and he laughs.

“Yea?”

“Oh absolutely.”

“Alright I’m just pulling up. Come on out.” You come out of the building just as Steve pulls up and you climb into the truck with him. He looks slightly disappointed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You level him with a look that says you’re not buying it, “I was hoping you’d have the dress with you. So I could at least get an idea.”

“Pepper and Tony will be bringing it.”

“Damn.”

“Why do you want to see so bad?” You ask pulling your sandwich from the bag.

“I’m just excited. I know you’re going to look stunning, everyone who has seen it has told me you’re gonna knock me on my ass.”

“Whose all seen it?”

“Just the girls.”

“God Steve this sandwich is exactly what I wanted, I didn’t know it but it was.”

“I’m glad. Cooper got a whipped cream too.” He says picking up his coffee.

It takes a couple of hours but when you pull up to the location you gasp its a huge lodge with cabins up behind it. The trees are all several colors and there’s a small stream running by.

“Oh! Oh Steve this is perfect!” You tell him as you practically vibrate in your seat.

“I’m glad you like it. We’ve rented out the whole place.”

“Oh my god.” You press several kisses to his cheek before Steve pulls the truck to a stop and kisses you soundly. “The best Alpha.” You mutter before kissing him again.

“Wanna go try out our cabin?” Steve offers wiggling an eyebrow at you.

“Let’s go.” You tell him climbing out of the truck and letting Cooper out. Steve grabs both of the bags before rounding the truck to take your hand. You’ve just entered the cabin, Steve’s dropped the bags and cupped your face in his hands as he kisses you when someone knocks on the door.

“Damn it.” Steve groans but you laugh, of course.

“We should probably see who that is.”

“I know you’re right but what terrible timing.” He mutters and you laugh before untangling yourself from his grasp.

“Come on, the sooner we see who it is the sooner we can get back to our plans.” You tell him and he groans following you to the door. You open it expecting to see someone you don’t know, an employee or something but your eyes widen as you take in who’s standing outside the door. “May? Phil! Scott! Hope! Oh my God.” You hug each of your friends from the mountain tightly.

“You smell weird.” Scott says and you laugh,

“You’ve never smelt me as an Omega.”

“And you smell like him.” Hope says nodding at Steve.

“What are you all doing here?”

“Like we’d miss your wedding.” May says with a smile.

“You. Oh Alpha!” You practically cry turning to Steve and throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his neck, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Like I’d let some of the most important people in your life miss our wedding.” He says softly, holding you tightly to him, your feet off the floor.

“I love you. I love you.” You whisper your voice tight, Steve hums lowly. They start talking while you get control of your emotions again.

When you hear more people show up you finally let go. Wanda is leading the pack, concern on her face.

“It’s fine Wanda.” Steve tells her, “these are people from Fawn’s last pack.” He introduces everyone, then another Beta comes over with a clipboard.

“Mr. Rogers.”

“Captain actually.” Bucky corrects with a small smile.

“My apologies, I’m Jemma your hostess for the weekend. I have room assignments for everyone, please let me know if I need to change anything you have a rather large pack.”

“Thank you.” You tell her holding a hand out for the list. The only change you need to make is moving Bucky and Becca from a single bed room and Hope and Scott from a double bed room. “Let me know if any of these assignments don’t work.”

You don’t get another moment alone with Steve. Not even for bedtime when Becca drags you to her and Bucky’s room. Bucky sleeps on one of the couches in your and Steve’s cabin. You wait until you know Becca is asleep before you sneak out of the room. You’re not surprised to find Steve sitting on the bench outside Becca and Bucky’s room.

“Hi Honey.” He says softly and you climb into his lap.

“Thank you for all of this.”

“I’m just glad you like the space and that I could surprise you.”

“How are even real?” You ask causing Steve to chuckle softly. You sit together well into the night, far later than you should but eventually Steve pats your butt and says,

“We should get to bed.”

“I know.” You agree but you don’t move, Steve stands and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you back into the room you’re sharing with Becca.

“Are you going to stay here or do I have to ask you to stay?” He whispers as he sets you gently on the bed and you sigh heavily as you let go of him.

“I’ll stay.” You promise him, Steve kisses you deeply then whispers,

“Next time I kiss you you’ll be my wife.” He then disappears out of the room leaving you smiling.

“Okay that was cute as fuck.” Becca mutters into the darkness.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Maybe a oneshot where Grian is yellow now, and leaves Scar to go to Flower Husbands, but Scar tried to make Grian go red before he got away, so Grian is pretty hurt?

heck yeah!!! i love imagining what'll happen when Grian goes yellow and tries to leave. i bet canon will be "i'm yellow now. bye." and he just fucks off lmfao but for now we can imagine :D

...

Grian sits bolt upright in his bed, clutching his chest where he felt the arrow pierce. That must have been quite a bow; the projectile went straight through his diamond armour and took his last few hearts of health.

He peers out the window and sees the so-called Red Army retreating. They may be without their banner but they took something even better: Grian’s first life.

Grian sits back on the bed for a moment and takes it all in. He’s finally died for the first time. What happens now?

Well… Grian is free. He doesn’t need to stay with Scar anymore; his debt has been paid.

Excitement rising in him, he starts rummaging through his chest for his valuables: all the tnt he can take, his diamonds, etc. He remembers having his netherite sword on him when he died but Scar will have picked that up.

Sure enough, when he gets downstairs, he finds Scar just entering the house, carrying a chest in his arms. “Oh, hey, Grian! I got your stuff. And I threw in a little something extra, because you died.”

Grian takes the chest from him and sorts through it, taking his most valuable things. Scar’s gift sits at the top of the pile: some gold horse armour. He looks up and meets Scar’s gaze. The nervousness behind his smile is clear.

“Scar, being allies with you has been a real experience-,” Grian begins.

Scar winces. “Oh no…”

“-but now I’ve paid my debt and it’s time for me to move on. Good luck, Scar.”

Grian tries to move around Scar, who deliberately steps into his way. “No, don’t leave me!” he pleads. “Please!”

“Scar, I’ve never made it a secret that I’m out as soon as I turn yellow. I’m yellow now. So I’m leaving. I’m going to Scott and Jimmy’s and you can’t stop me.”

Grian pushes past Scar and walks out of the building but Scar grabs his arm, yanking him back. “You’d stay with me if you were red,” he says, his expression and tone suddenly dark. “Nobody else would take you in if you were red.”

“Uh…” Grian blinks, worry rising extremely fast inside him. “Scar, let go. Let go of me. Scar-!”

Scar’s arm whips round, a sword appearing in his grip. Grian ducks under his swing but the hilt of the sword hits him in the head, stunning him. Thankfully, he’s able to wrench himself out of Scar’s grip and frantically back away. “Scar, no! Don’t!”

Scar swings again, nearly catching Grian in the chest with his sword.

“SCAR!”

Grian turns and takes off running, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away. As he heads for the stairs, he feels something shove into his back and knock him right off the side of the cliff.

His scream gets cut off as he hits the ground. Pain explodes from his whole body but he doesn’t seem to have any broken bones, at least. Struggling to his feet, he half-limps half-sprints towards the forest. He has neither the courage nor the energy to look back and see if Scar is following him.

He just has to get away.

After what feels like the longest journey of his life, he finally makes it to the gate of the flower fields. He bursts through it and stumbles a few steps, managing to cry out his friends’ names, before collapsing on the ground.

Thankfully, neither of his friends are too far away and they quickly arrive on the scene.

“Grian!” gasps Jimmy, dashing to his friend’s side.

“Jimmy, watch out!” Scott yells, spotting Scar running towards them. “Get back!”

As Jimmy drags Grian away from the gate, Scott leaps in front of them and draws back an arrow on his bow, causing Scar to stop in his tracks.

“Wait, I just need to talk to Grian!” Scar says pleadingly. “I just wanna talk to him!”

“The blood on his face and the fact that he’s UNCONSCIOUS seem to indicate more ill intent towards him than that,” Scott snaps back.

“No no, I didn’t do that! He- He fell over the side of the mountain!”

“Fell or was pushed?”

Scar has no answer to that.

“He said I would stay with him if I was red,” Grian says weakly from behind him, semi-conscious, “because nobody else would take me.”

“Really?” Scott narrows his eyes at Scar as the latter takes a step forward. “Scar, back off. I’ll shoot if you don’t get off our land immediately.”

“Just let me talk to Grian,” Scar begs. “Please, just for a minute.”

Scott turns his head slightly to address Grian without taking his eyes off Scar: “Grian, do you want to talk to Scar?”

“N-No.”

“There you have it, Scar. He doesn’t wanna talk to you. So you no longer have a reason to be trespassing on our land.”

Scar dithers uncertainly, trying his hardest to make eye contact with Grian, who refuses to look at him.

Scott steps forward. The tip of his arrow is now less than two blocks away from Scar’s chest. “Scar. I WILL shoot you. You think you’ll survive at this close range?”

Finally, Scar backs away, his hands raised in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” He raises his voice to call to his former ally one final time: “Grian, I’m sorry!”

Scott watches Scar leave their land, then closes the gate and locks it behind him. After making sure Scar has fully vanished out of sight, he turns back to Grian. “Jimmy, get him inside. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Jimmy nods and half-carries Grian towards his house.

After fetching the first aid kit, Scott locates Grian and Jimmy in the latter’s house. Grian is huddled in the armchair under a blanket that Jimmy has found for him.

“Are you okay?” Scott asks gently.

Grian nods numbly. “I-I think so. I still feel so shaky and cold. And a little dizzy.”

Scott opens up the first aid kit and starts to clean the bloody scrape on Grian’s cheek. “You don’t seem to be too badly hurt so it’s probably just a minor concussion combined with shock.”

“I’m not surprised,” Grian says shakily. “It all happened so fast, I… We were fighting against Dogwarts, then someone shot me and I died, and I was just gathering up all my items when Scar burst in and tried to get me to stay with him. He said I would stay if I was red, so… He…” He closes his eyes briefly, reliving the traumatic moment. “He attacked me. And when I tried to flee, he shoved me over the side of the mountain in some last-ditch attempt to kill me. I was on two hearts after I hit the bottom. One more hit would probably have taken me out.��

“Jesus, that’s terrifying,” murmurs Scott.

“I can’t believe he’d just turn on you like that,” Jimmy says, “after everything you’ve done for him.”

“Honestly, I think he’s just scared of being alone. The second I died, he must’ve panicked about losing me.”

“But the fact that he wanted to remedy that by killing you, thereby putting you one step closer to dying forever and giving you no choice in your own allies, doesn’t give me a lot of sympathy for him,” says Scott.

Grian nods slowly. “Yeah…”

In the ensuing pause, Scott finishes cleaning up Grian’s face and starts putting away his stuff. “Do you have somewhere to stay for now?”

“No, I… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“You can stay here for as long as you need,” Jimmy bursts out. “Right, Scott?”

Scott nods warmly. “Of course, yeah. You’re always welcome here.”

Grian gives him a grateful smile. “Thank you, guys. I really appreciate this. And I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Scott smiles back. “No worries.”

[gumnut-logic]

All of us love a mischievous squid.

-o-o-o-

Everyone knew Virgil was the musical soul in the family. He played, wrote and occasionally bled music. It was a constant in their home and the few times it was missing due to illness or absence, it was painful.

The man could sing if he wanted to, but that was a rare thing. He could dance with the grace of any ballroom dancer, his rhythm and style even outshining his eldest brother, Mr Lady-swooner himself.

Music was part of Virgil’s soul.

So, what happened late one Wednesday night after one too many rescues and ten too many drinks was quite surprising to them all.

The Tracy brothers weren’t big drinkers. They couldn’t afford to be due to their occupation. Both Scott and Virgil had been known to down a late night sniff of whisky on occasion. John had his boutique beers, but honestly, he wasn’t home very often to drink them, and space and alcohol was never a good combination.

Gordon fancied an odd cocktail from time to time and had the liquor stash to back it up, but most of the bottles were dusty and a couple well past their expiry dates. They just didn’t have the time or the opportunity to really let rip.

But it was Wednesday. The last rescue of five had been an avalanche and they always sucked. The boys had congregated in the living room…and it was a living room, not a damned comms room because International Rescue was down for a good forty-eight hours, Grandma’s orders.

They were all exhausted, but none wanted to sleep. They wouldn’t admit it, but there was fear in what they might find behind closed eyelids after such a shitty day, so they just sat together.

At first it was quiet. One or two words, fragmented debrief, until Virgil put an end to it and demanded John come home. Now!

Fifteen minutes later, the middle brother, just as exhausted as the rest, slunk into the living room and made a seat his own.

But there was little talking, each caught up in their own thoughts.

“Screw this.” Gordon jumped to his feet. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” And he disappeared around the corner.

Scott didn’t pay much attention, his eyes on John, assessing his condition and fast coming to the conclusion that his brother hadn’t slept in at least the last twenty-four hours judging by the bags under his eyes.

“John, have you eaten.”

Turquoise darted in his direction. “Have you?”

A blink and Scott realised he hadn’t. He had been too occupied keeping track of tired brothers. “No.” Honestly, he wasn’t hungry.

“Then you understand.”

A glare in his brother’s direction. John just turned away.

Scott’s lips thinned, but then his attention was taken by Alan, who was slowly tipping sideways on his couch, eyelids drooping. “Alan, you should go to bed.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna stay with you guys.” His head landed on the couch cushion and two seconds later he was snoring.

Scott sighed.

“I have cake. I have popcorn. I have drinks.” Hurricane Gordon slammed into the sunken lounge and a pile of popcorn, chips, a rather large cake and a bucket of candy landed with him. The whole mess was dumped on the table and the aquanaut disappeared again.

Scott just stared at the pile of food.

“Well, that’s the healthy option.” Virgil’s voice was pure sarcasm.

“Do you really care?” Honestly, Virg.

“Not really, but the principle is there.”

Scott rolled his eyes. Just in time for Gordon to reappear with half his alcohol stash, several of John’s beers and whisky. Glorious, golden whisky.

Now that was a very good idea.

What happened after the appearance of the alcohol involved a movie Scott didn’t pay much attention to, far too much carbohydrate…c’mon, caramel popcorn, yes…and a lot of alcohol.

After all, they were down for forty-eight hours guaranteed and how often did that happen? This was an opportunity for them to focus on themselves and despite their exhaustion, there was finally a little relaxation in front of…the Enterprise?

“Who gave John the remote?!”

“I did.” The feminine AI’s voice danced through the room in amusement.

“Eos! That’s cheating!”

She giggled. “I thought Gordon was cheating when he stuck it in his drink.”

Scott turned to his aquanaut brother who was dressing the sleeping Alan’s hair with popcorn. “Gordon!”

“What?!” The cocktail in his hand had an umbrella and a remote control garnishing it.

“You drowned the remote.”

“Huh?” He looked at his drink. “Oh.” And he pulled it out of the concoction and started licking it clean.

“Augh.”

A blur of red plaid and Virgil snatched the gadget from Gordon’s fingers and flicked it into the nearest pot plant.

Gordon appeared forlorn for its absence for a whole second before turning to his drink and sculling it all in one go.

“Gordon!” This time it was Virgil yelling his name.

The aquanaut had blue curacao for lipstick. “What?!” It was a direct echo of his same exasperated response moments earlier.

“Take it easy.”

“I don’t want to take it easy. I’m having fun.” With that he grabbed a bottle and dumped something red into the same glass with the blue, resulting in a rather unpleasant purple.

Scott groaned.

Which only earned him an assessing stare from Virgil.

A sigh. “Relax, Virgil. We’re home, we’re safe. Let your hair down a little.”

He was going to regret those words later.

The stare turned into a glare, but moments later, Gordon was ribbing Virgil about drinking and somehow he got under the engineer’s skin because there was a drinking contest.

Unfortunately for Gordon, swimmer’s physique or not, apparently Virgil was more brawn and could simply just absorb the stuff.

Gordon ended up snoozing in a sea of popcorn beside Alan.

John started giggling.

Scott raised an eyebrow at the small pyramid of empty beer bottles beside his space brother.

“How many have you had?”

“It’s a tetrahedron. Work it out.” John placed a single bottle at the top of the pyramid and smirked at Scott.

This was definitely a very bad idea.

His own whisky glass was only half empty. He needed to fix that.

It was warm going down.

Gordon started snoring, loudly.

“Okay, that’s it. Time for bed.”

“Don’t wanna go to bed.” Virgil put on the soppiest puppy dog face Scott had ever seen.

John cracked up laughing.

Oh god. “No, bed, now.”

“Okay.” And Virgil stood up.

And took a quick step to the left, then the right, before managing to stabilise himself somewhat upright, but listing slightly to one side.

It was that moment that the movie playing on the holoprojector burst into music.

Music? What the hell were they watching. He stared up into a haze of rebooted retro nineteen fifties and a song about a car and lightning.

“Ooh, I like this one.”

What?

And Virgil was suddenly dancing. Well, it could be considered dancing in some circles, but it mostly consisted of a lot of poorly coordinated butt wiggling and a lot of horizon pointing arms.

The jumping on the couch was really not called for.

“Virg?”

But his brother was lost to the music and dancing his heart and his coordination all out.

“C’mon, Scott, get up and boogie!”

Of course, Virgil was loud enough to wake Gordon, who took one look at Virgil and fell off the couch.

There was far too much butt wiggling happening.

“Virg, come down from there.”

He was completely ignored.

Scott needed more alcohol.

The bottle of golden oblivion smiled at him.

Screw it.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but the result was a broken lamp and Gordon on the floor laughing hard enough to break a rib.

“Eos, play Jailhouse Rock.” John managed that between giggles. Scott idly noticed that the tetrahedron had become modern art and was attempting to defy the laws of physics.

It failed with a smash and rolling of bottles two minutes later.

And Virgil was still dancing.

Classic Elvis Presley at full volume, enough to wake up every lifeform in the caldera.

The butt wiggling had morphed into hip waggling and some kind of leg shaking that threatened to faceplant his brother on the floor.

“Virg, please get off the couch.”

“I am having fun, Scott.” Each word was enunciated clearly as if the man was having trouble putting the syllables together. “Letting my hair down.” A grin and Virgil shoved his fingers into his hair and completely messed it up until it was sticking out in all directions. Suddenly a hand was almost in Scott’s face. “Join me?”

There was something in his brother’s deep brown eyes, something beyond the alcoholic haze, something desperate, something…sad.

Scott never could refuse a brother his help. So, a moment later, he found himself standing on the couch as Virgil shifted his dance moves into something that involved some shoulder rolling and a goofy grin.

Scott found himself grinning in return.

John said something half drowned out by the music and the room was suddenly filled with an old dance favourite from his teens.

Virgil actually let off a laugh and moved into a sloppy dance routine from their childhood.

Scott couldn’t help himself and at some point, he just let go.

-o-o-o-

Alan woke from one of the weirdest dreams of his life. It involved music and Thunderbird Three dancing to a beat, her arms waving about.

It took him a moment to work out exactly why.

The dream was saner than reality. Scott and Virgil were standing on one of the couches…dancing.

Alan blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Was that the Macarena? It was hard to tell. Virgil was so uncoordinated, he could have been servicing Two in his sleep for all Alan could discern. Scott was smoother, but he was leaning at a teetering angle.

Frantic eyes located his two other brothers.

John was sitting on the floor beside a pile of empty beer bottles. He had a dob of cake frosting on one eyebrow.

That left Gordon.

The strawberry blond was sitting on the floor in front of Alan’s couch.

“Gords? What’s going on?”

Gordon turned around and a soft smile curved his lips. “Big bros are letting their hair down.” The music suddenly paused and Gordon sat up straighter. “Eos, Dance Party 2054.”

More music erupted from the overhead speakers and vibrated the glass walls.

Alan found himself bopping to the beat.

Virgil climbed up off the couch and onto the hardwood floor, apparently so he could really let loose. His plaid shirt was undone and swirling around him as he moved.

Scott tripped over the top of the couch and almost faceplanted on that same hardwood, but he saved himself the bruises with those half-sharp reflexes of his. A moment later he was up boogying with his brother.

It was an odd sight.

“Are they okay?”

Gordon’s voice was quiet. “No, but they will be.”

“What about John?”

Gordon shrugged as they both eyed the slouched astronaut. “Not sure he has it in him, fresh down from Five. He’s safer on the floor.”

“What about you?”

Gordon snorted. “I’m good.” He chucked down the remains of his drink before turning to face his little brother. “Wanna dance?”

Alan’s eyes widened. “How are you?” His eyes bounced to the empty bottles on the table, the stained glasses and limp umbrellas.

“What? Do you really think I can’t outlast Virg? The man is a drinking wimp. Only took two good ones to get him dancing with the fairies. Letting him win was the hard part.”

“Win what?”

A snort. “Virg thinks he can drink me under the table. He’s small fry.” The aquanaut stumbled to his feet and Alan eyed him. Gordon had definitely had a few. “You aren’t allowed to kill brain cells. However, you can have fun, dear little brother.” He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

He blamed sleep fog for the automatic yes that found him up and out of the sunken lounge, careening around the room laughing his ass off.

-o-o-o-

“John, what is happening?”

The astronaut blinked dopily. Maybe he had had one too many, but with each one, the voices faded just that little bit more. Calls for help he was desperate to answer.

And the silences that followed.

“They’re dancing, Eos.” It was obvious really.

“I’ve never seen them act like this before.”

“Doesn’t happen very often.” If ever. What was Scott trying to do with their father’s chair? “Eos, could you please close the doors to the balcony.” Gravity did suck after all.

He took another swig of Swedish beer as the giant glass doors slid smoothly closed.

“Can you access the room lighting?”

“One moment. I have control, John.”

“Good. Reference the 1970s disco movement and see if you can replicate any of the lighting involved.”

“FAB.”

A few moments later and the room’s lighting went nuts. The holoprojector flickered and shone dancing rainbows on the rafters. The atmosphere changed radically as the whole room pulsed and flickered in beat with the music.

Virgil froze for a whole five seconds in the middle of the room, staring up at the glass ceiling before bursting into a massive grin and throwing himself into a full on fit of dancing to the song that was screaming out of the speakers.

Scott was pirouetting with his father’s chair in great rotating circles.

Gordon was attempting some kind of retro-breakdancing. Though at this point, the only thing that was going to be broken was pot plants.

Alan had a grin on his face and was the most coordinated of them all, jiggling along to the beat with a grin on his face.

Another figure appeared in the entrance to the room. It took John’s entire remaining intellect to realise that it was Grandma.

Something stirred in the back of John’s head, something about getting in trouble, but he had no coordination to connect the dots so gave up. Besides, the Grandma figure was only standing in the doorway watching.

“What is the purpose of all this activity?” Eos’ voice was ever curious.

“It’s fun, Eos. An attempt at stress relief.” To wash the pain away.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was vaguely aware that he was being ridiculous, but he was beyond caring. The music pulsed through him and lifted him up. He just let it all go and rode the beat.

He was too exhausted to care about anything.

Except his brothers.

He always cared about his brothers.

Scott was astride their father’s chair and was riding it across the room in a completely undignified manner. Gordon was laughing his ass off at the sight and Alan was beside him in that. Even John was grinning as the eldest coasted past.

Virgil spun and let the air stream around him.

Round and round and round.

Oh dear, too round.

He staggered to a halt, but the world kept going. He stumbled.

A hand caught him. “Take it easy, honey.”

The blur turned into his grandmother in her dressing gown.

“Grandma!” He drew her in to a massive hug. “I love you, Grandma.”

Her tiny arms hugged him back. “Virgil, you’re drunk.”

“No, no, I’m dancing. Wanna dance, Grandma?”

She was looking up at him with concern on her face.

“Smile, Grandma. You need to be happy.”

He needed to be happy.

She reached up and touched his face, her hand cupping his cheek.

He closed his eyes and leant into her palm as the beat throbbed around him.

-o-o-o-

The sight of his grandmother sobered Scott immediately. The chair beneath him drifted a few more feet before he brought it to a halt.

Grandma caught Virgil as he stumbled and they were hugging. Something about that simple gesture clenched his heart.

He clambered off the chair and staggered awkwardly. Okay, maybe he had a few too many. He forced himself upright, kicking some spine into his vertebrae and made his way over to his grandmother.

Virgil was all plaid and gentle eyes as she cupped his cheek.

“Grandma?” Scott’s voice wavered with his step.

Eyes as blue as his own turned towards him. “Scotty, you need to sit down before you fall down.”

He frowned. He had a chair a moment ago. He looked around.

A hand caught his cheek and drew his gaze back to his grandmother and those blue eyes.

A red arm wrapped around him and drew him in. “Scott, you are my big brother.” The statement was declared with so much love as he was pulled sideways into Virgil.

They almost fell in a heap. It was Grandma who steadied them.

“You boys need to go to bed.” A concerned frown and she called out to the ceiling. “Eos, kill the light show and the music.”

The silence that fell was so sudden, Scott almost fell with it.

Virgil stumbled and Scott held him upright.

An almighty crash off to their left and Gordon upended one of the large pot plants near the glass doors. Potting mix scattered across the floor. Gordon rolled over and sat up covered in the stuff. “Who turned off the music?”

Grandma straightened. “It is time for bed, young man.”

The dopey aquanaut looked up at his grandmother and squinted. “Grandma, is that you?”

She ignored him. “Alan, come here, sweety.”

Alan, who was yawning fit to break his jaw, wandered over as bidden.

“Yes, Grandma?”

She snaked an arm around his waist and drew him in. “Time for bed, Allie.”

Virgil reached out an arm to snag his littlest brother, but suddenly Gordon was in his way and he got an arm full of fish instead.

Virgil did not seem to mind. “Gordo! My wingman, my copilot, my fish in a barrel.” Red plaid squeezed tight. “Love you, bro.”

Scott blinked. That was three. Where was the other one?

A glance at the lounge found John sprawled on the floor up against one of the lounges, fast asleep.

“Oi, Johnny!”

Scott jumped at Virgil’s yell and so did John. Bleary turquoise peered in their direction.

“Get over here, little brother, group hug!”

Wha-? Scott’s head was so foggy.

But John was stumbling to his feet. Something told him this was a dangerous thing. As the astronaut wobbled over, Scott moved to help him, but found himself snagged by cast iron red plaid.

Fortunately, Alan picked up on his fellow spaceman’s difficulties and hurried over to give him a hand. A few moments of wobbly astronaut and John was standing with them.

Virgil immediately reached for him. “Johnny!”

Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of either Gordon or Scott when he did and, damn, Virgil was strong. They ended up in a huddle, Alan and Grandma awkwardly caught up with them.

“I love you guys.” Virgil’s voice was muffled up against John’s shirt. Scott had caught Grandma and Gordon had grabbed Alan. Virgil had his face mushed into John’s shoulder.

John looked like he had stuck a finger in an electrical socket and didn’t know why his hair was on fire.

“We love you, too, Virgil.” It was Gordon’s voice, muffled by Alan’s hair.

Something lodged in Scott’s throat and he found himself hugging the pieces of brother and grandmother he could reach.

Apparently, it was something they all needed, because they stayed there holding each other for a full minute.

Just long enough for Virgil to fall asleep against John’s shoulder and let off a snore. It took Gordon and Scott to catch him to prevent them all from falling in a heap.

The group hug dissolved and the focus became getting certain brothers to their bedrooms. Grandma hovered and helped where she could. Scott took Virgil, while Gordon switched to helping Alan with John.

The family went their separate ways.

Grandma followed Scott up to Virgil’s rooms. The engineer faded in and out, declaring his love for any and all brothers several times on the way up. But by the time they made it to Virgil’s room, the engineer was getting heavy.

“C’mon, Virg, not much further.” Scott was ever so glad of that as his head was still trying to swim against the current.

Letting him gently down on his bed, the man immediately curled up into a ball, fully dressed and obviously not caring. Scott undid green shoelaces, dumped boots on the floor with a clatter and yanked the covers up and over his already snoring little brother.

A hand smoothed crazed hair back into its more familiar style and Scott unfolded from the bed.

A glass of water appeared on the bedside table and he turned to find his grandmother looking at him fondly. He blinked. He had forgotten she was there.

She held out a hand and as he took it, he was drawn into a quiet hug. She was ever so little up against his bulk. “C’mon, Scotty, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m okay, Grandma. I need to check on the others.”

She sighed, but let go a single nod.

As they left Virgil’s rooms, she didn’t leave his side.

A visit to John’s room found him in bed, but the wrong way around, his feet on the pillow, his head hanging off the end. It took some prodding and yanking, but Scott re-orientated him. A quick check of the gravity support systems in his clothing were functioning properly – the alcohol probably wasn’t helping. Grandma materialised with another glass of water which was placed on John’s bedside table.

Quietly. “Eos, are you monitoring, John’s systems?”

“Of course. He is well, Commander. Do not concern yourself. I will watch him.”

Scott’s eyes closed without permission and he had to force them open again. “Thank you, Eos.”

The AI didn’t answer.

Grandma took his arm and led him from the room.

A check on Alan found him on the floor, but that was nothing unusual. Gordon had probably dumped him there. The kid preferred the rug to his bed and Scott meant to talk to him about it, but…life.

Gordon had fallen asleep in the corridor outside his room.

Scott rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised if the brat had done that on purpose. After all the entire night’s fracas was obviously engineered by the aquanaut. A fond sigh of exasperation and he pulled his little brother into his arms and dragged him into his rooms.

Dragging fish was considerably easier than dragging two hundred pounds of engineer.

Scott threw Gordon onto his bed and covered him up. Fingers brushed hair off his face.

Scott sighed again and had to prevent himself from curling up beside his brother.

“C’mon, Scotty, your turn.”

Scott mumbled something even he didn’t fully comprehend and let his grandmother lead him out of his brother’s rooms. One of the aquariums blurped at him as he walked past.

And finally, he was in his own rooms and his own bed. Grandma handed him a glass of water. He guzzled it before burying his face in his pillow.

He opened his eyes as a hand brushed through his hair. “We love you, Scotty. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He blinked slowly and managed a smile up at his grandmother, but her fingers caressed the side of his face, forcing his eyes to close again and he drifted off.

His dreams were kind.

And full of loving family.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[partnersatfazbear]

Fazbear Frights: What We Found Analysis

Here’s my analysis for What We Found, the third story in Gumdrop Angel. I wrote this as I read so it may be a little different than my previous analysis where I read the story first and went back.

If you’re a Michael Afton fan I highly recommend this. Also, there’s possibly some insight into William Afton, Mrs. Afton, and Henry too, so it’s worth a skim.

Pg 144 '...a place thirty-some years forgotten' Just reconfirming FNAF 3 is 30 years past *one* of the FNAF closings, presumably FNAF 2 location.

Pg 145 "The whole building was giving him [Hudson] a headache." FIX THE VENTILATION BRUH

Pg 148 '...they were able to use salvaged derelict equiptment original to the old pizzerias.' Another confirmation of something we heard from Phone Guy.

Pg 147 "How old are you?" "Twenty-three, same as you." I think this gives us Michael's age during FNAF 3.

EDIT: This kept me awake last night. Obviously this is impossible because he has to be alive for at least 10 years before 1983, BUT maybe its just reconfirming FNAF 3′s year? 2023?

Pg 149 "Hudsan's dad died and his mom married Lewis, a ridiculous balding man who wore plaid vests and smoked a pipe" Did... Did this book just seriously imply Mrs. Afton left William for Henry? Really? (Yes, there's differences; the husband is dead and the man wears plaid 'vests' but it seems very odd to include that detail. This could just have been the writer's own imagination, though.) I have seen this as a fan theory and 100% explains the jealousy aspect of William, but I can't help but kinda hate it. I think this is very important, though, and probably Scott's intention. "This horrible little man [Lewis]... would make Hudson's next ten years a living Hell" This REALLY intrigues me given the context I just went over. The text implies Lewis was fairly neglectful to our main character / Michael stand-in Hudson. Maybe I'm wrong and for some reason Mrs. Emily left and went to William? XD Haha, I'm reading too much into this page. Maybe I'll come back to this later. I figure it's more of Scott possibly including double-details (contradicting stuff with the same character that really applies to two, which has been something I heavily pointed out in previous anaylsis on this blog) Having said that, I'm going w/the former because I can't imagine Henry being abusive (neglectful yes, abusive no) and he's never been portrayed that way in official works like William has in the novels.

Pg 150 "Hudson began to screw up in class...a product of spending the night in fear that his stepfather [Lewis]... [would] beat him just for the fun of it." Ooof. Big confirm on William actually being abusive. Unless we stick with the Henry theory for Lewis (combined with Midnight Motorist Henry theory / alcoholic). "...near-daily beatings..." "his mom started taking pills to get through the day..." So, whoever Mrs. Afton is, she was definetly not paying attention. But then, most people married to serial killers either don't notice because of denial (like this) or because the killer is so manipulative / careful they can't notice.

"Barry, who had red hair and freckles..." Yo?! Is that a description of Fritz?! These friends in the story could be the other kids Michael knew's stand-in's, aka the two gravestones with names he used (Fritz and Jeremy), as shown in the checks for the games and FNAF 6. I've long figured Michael was probably friends with the victims--it makes them easier, although riskier, targets [for William]. The two friends are male, too, like Fritz and Jeremy. If you're curious about Duane's description (our stand in for Jeremy), it's "tight black shirt... muscles... black hair long enough for a glossy ponytail..." I'm not sure if this matches anything found in the novels or contradicts them, though. (The novels = TSE trilogy)

"And so it went... until the night of the fire." For context, this is before FF burns down. We're learning of Hudson's life from his close friends in childhood, his father's death, his mother remarrying, to his abusive stepfather, to his grades slipping to this line. This would be a new fire not seen/mentioned in the games...

Pg 151 "...go to Charlie's for a sundae..." Really. Really Scott. Just gonna use this name again. OK. I'm not even gonna discuss this because it's probably irrelevant. *This is confirmed on pg 158 to be an ice cream shop. No lore relevance aside the annoying name coincidences Scott loves to troll with.

"This is not... an advance into enemy territory, a fight with demons, or a descent into Hell..." Uh, what? What is Hudson talking about? XD I'm only noting it because it seems so out of place. He's probably talking about video games or something.

Another note, although I don't have a specific reference since it is mentioned off-hand many times, is that Hudson keeps referring to his "history" which is implied to have kept him from getting a well-paying job and a girl he's crushing on doesn't know this "history" which is good for him. Seems good old "Michael Stand-In" has done some jail time or something. Edit: On pg 154/155 the girl asks Hudson, "Did you do it?" Seems he may have killed his stepfather or been involved with something else just as bad. Edit 2: No, I was thinking too deep into it. This probably refers to Evan's death at Fredbear's. DUH.

Pg 156 describes an actual "prize corner" in FF! What am I even reading? IIRC this is in FNAF 3, too. So they just hand out these scary gift boxes to people that complete the attraction? (Hudson says he *would* have fun handing out the scary toys to kids when this location opens--kind of a bully thing to do, eh?)

"[Hudson] avoid[ed] glancing in any of the mirrors..." I'm only pointing this out because it could be reference to one of two things. 1) We know because of one of UCN's music tracks, William has a fear of his reflection. Michael probably shares this trait, especially since 2) after Ennard and all... and later on pg 157 it also says, "he never wanted to face: himself" Sounds like guilt, my guy.

Pg 157 "blonde hair... blue eyes..." Hudson shares an eye color with Michael. It's possible Michael had blonde hair as a child and it changed to brown (it's common, something I personally went through being technically blonde/ blue eyed myself)

"He [Hudson] knew from personal experience that toys could turn from fun...to torture ina heart-beat" Fairly self explanatory. Either Hudson's worked at a creepy location before or he doesn't like remembering Fredbear's.

*checks how much is left.* There's still 35 pages (not counting back/front) left of this... This is gonna be a lot of notes.

Pg 158 Hudson doesn't have a car. Poor Mike, probably having to walk everywhere. Especially as a corpse.

Pg 160 This page describes many physical issues Hudson has that prevents him from entering the Navy, all from the abuse of Lewis. Obvious paralell to Michael becoming an undead [because his father sent him to CBPR indirectly causing his condition]

Pg 161 "How's your granny, Hud?... ...Is she still alive?" "I don't think she can die." Does anyone in the Afton family really 'die'? XD

Pg 162 These few pages discuss Hudson's grandmother. She's described as "a seer who claimed to know the future... ...wore big men's plaid flannel shirts with baggy jeans" Um, more plaid / flannel? AGH. STAHP. Lowkey, I would totally headcanon my Aunt Jen like this, though.

Pg 163 "Hudson's mom... the way she was before Hudson's dad had died... never... particularly warm and fuzzy... but... effiencient and responsible..." More about Mrs. Afton, so that's kinda neat.

"Hudson's dad was fun and attentive." There's a good Dad in this series?

"Unfortunetly, he also struggled with mental illness." "invisible low points" (Pg 164) Kinda reminds me of how Henry is described after Charlotte's death in the books.

Pg 164 "When Steven got himself into a bad deal that cost him his small business... he'd taken his life." Oh, it is Henry! SMH. Way to use confusing paralells. So, from our understanding thus far, Hudson's real father, Steven, is our Henry stand-in. His step-father despite being described similar to Henry, is actually our William stand-in. Fair game, Scott.

Pg 164 "...he [Hudson] was locked into a supply closet..." Oh shit, you guys. So, let me go on a tangent here, because this IS important! I just watched a retrospective on Sister Location and FNAF 6 earlier and one theory for Midnight Motorist was the person in the chair was the mother and the kid was Michael. I think this little line may confirm that. In fact, the story may be the key to figuring things out. Obviously, the line is a paralell to FNAF 4's scene in which Crying Child was locked in the supply closet of Fredbear's. I know some people, including Matpat, believe[d] CC was Michael, and in this book's context, it sort of works. This does contradict Step Closer and 1000 other things that make Michael the older brother, but maybe it's hinting at MM? Abusive stepdad (possibly Henry... maybe William is gone at this point), checked out Mom (hey, grey couch lady with Foxybro's font). IDK, but its definetly something to think about.

Pg 165 Lewis is mentioned as calling Hudson "nothing" and saying "you're nothing" on several occasions on this page. Just more abuse, for those accurate fanfic writers like me. Also I kinda wanna watch Morel Orel again. Yall know my fav character is Clay. Yall know.

"You're smoke." <-- Lewis / The text later reads, "...there was some irony, given what eventually happened." BRUH. Why did your stepdad die in a fire? :V TELL ME.

"When his family's house burned down at the end of his senior year..." Huh. Is there a fire we don't know about in the game-verse? Could this explain what happened to the FNAF 4 house before MM house?!

"...it purged Hudson of Lewis and his mother." MRS. AFTON BURNED ALIVE, TOO? Bruh. I can't with this story.

The text later describes the fire is concluded to be man-made and Hudson was blamed for it. Can't say if this ties to Michael, but it IS interesting... TBF, there is a small paralell to draw between Henry in FNAF 6 and his history of suicide in the books, too.

Pg 166 "...this place's [FF] busted thermostat.." I just find this line funny.

Pg 167 "...after three weeks of keeping an eye on the place" Some more timeline context for FNAF 3. We know that Michael worked there a little while before we start playing the game thanks to one of the phone calls, IIRC, so this makes sense. If Michael was accused of [something] and also wanting to hunt down his father, then it makes perfect sense why he's working a dead end job at Freddy's over and over and over. Fun fun fun.

Pg 169 "He hated to think about a functional character [Foxy]" This line is in regards to Hudson not liking the set up of Pirate's Cove and Foxy's hook to scare people. Sounds familiar, don't it? (For Michael anyway.)

Pg 173 "Some big find is arriving tomorrow." SPRINGY BOI! COME ON BOOK, get on with the show?

Pg 176 "Granny was wearing a red-and-green plaid shirt and her baggy jeans." Nothing special, but it was specifically brought up twice. I'm kind of racking my brain trying to understand what the point of this character is outside of "woooo everything is haunted don't you know that" kind of character.

Pg 180 "...dropped the crate on the linoleum with a resounding thud." HEY. Poor Springtrap, just gettin' tossed around like the trash he is.

Pg 186 "If you weren't so stupid, I'd tell you more about it." Springtrap bringing the burn. =:)

"A voice with a burr-like rasp...hint of a Southern accent" I'm going to assume this is because it's Lewis probably in the suit in this story and not our old British lad.

"It's was Mr. Atkin's voice." THE MATH TEACHER? *goes back to check* 'The algebra teacher'. Okay...

Pg 190 Okay, so Hudson hear's Lewis' voice this time. Okay, I get it now. Springtrap in this kind of imbodies all of Hudson's old bullies, including the teacher. He also has PTSD, just FYI. IDK if anyone finds that important, but it's fairly obvious by the line "He wasn't in his bedroom. Lewis didn't just slam his head into a desk; his head had been slammed into the [arcade] game."

"Why did he hallucinate a scene from his childhood?" Oh, it's not PTSD, then. It's just the VENTILATION ERROR. lol Okay.

Just a note, as I'm reading through the more action-based stuff, I kind of feel bad for Michael if he had flashbacks like this guy. They're intense.

So, Lewis' voice finally comes out of Springtrap on Pg 213. There's that.

Pg 220 "You can just stay there [in his room]" Kind of a paralell to Midnight Motorist. Lewis is saying it to Hudson. I really feel like the kid in the MM game is Michael because of this story...

Pg 223 "Heat purges. Fire heals." I'm sure that's Henry's life motto.

The ending was stupid, but most in these stories are. Hudson is hallucinating and is implied to have burned himself alive in FF's oven. Meh? The first half of this one is A TRIP and a little insight into what I 100% believe is Michael's childhood. I think the saddest part of it all is that we never got Springtrap speaking to Michael in FNAF 3--and if it's ever remade I hope we get more of them interacting.

[yamithediaperdork]

Rescuing the baby (DC)

Barry Allen sighed as he was in the third hour of a 6 hour car trip, wondering for the millionth time why he had let his loving wife talk him into using a stupid car when he was the fastest man alive.

even as he cruised at a solid 55 MPH on the highway, it was like a slow walk to the man who when he wasn't being a CSI or a loving husband, happened to be the flash.

Of course he knew WHY and had agreed with her at the time, that Barry Allen managing to make it from Central city to Gotham in under 10 minutes would of raised all sorts of flag, but still. He hadn't even enjoyed the conference he'd been forced to go to by his supervisor, the highlight of the 3 day event had been hanging out with Batman.

Still it was over with and he vowed to find a way to squirm out of the next conference, even if he had to let a super villain or two out of jail. (Ok, he wouldn't actually do that but it was fun to picture on the long drive.)

Still there was a highlight on taking the long drive, it would give him a legitimate excuse to stop by and check on his favorite (well ok, only) nephew though his marriage to Iris: Wally west.

The boy had made a habit of spending any and all vacation time he could get (within reason) coming out and visiting them and while it made things a little harder on Barry's double life, seeing the freckled smiling face of the boy always made up for the slight inconveniences.

The only downside to making the trip without Iris (who had been kept busy with work) was there was no one to act like a filter between Barry and Rudy west, Wally's very unpleasant father who made his dislike of Barry well know while also never QUITE insulting Barry and giving him a excuse to put the bastard in his place. Barry knew that while Rudy would sight Barry's low income and long work hours as reasons that Barry might wanna find a 'real job', it was more the fact Wally looked up more to Barry then his own father that had turned the man more and more sour.

Barry also couldn't be totally sure, and wally wouldn't talk about it but since the poor boy had started bed wetting again Barry was convinced Ruby had started abusing his son, Mentally if not physically and disguising it as a spanking helped little bed wetters stop (a belief Barry did not follow)

Still he was sure wally would light up when Barry swung by as a surprise and if it just happened to ruin Rudy's day, gee, wouldn't that be a shame.

Rudy was home alone, having a beer (or two or three) and watching a game when there was a knock at the door. he started to call out for his wife Mary to go and answer the door before recalling where she was and got up out of his lazy-boy , cursing slowly as he spilled some beer on his plain white t-shirt.

"Hold your damn horses! I'm coming!" he called.

Already in a bad mood, it got worst as he saw who was at the door and sighing like he had the WORST luck, he opened the front door, sipping his bee that was still in his right hand.

"What do YOU want?" Rudy asked.

"Hi to you too Rudy." Barry said dryly , looking at his watch. "Little early for a brewski isn't it?"

"Don't tell me you drove all the way here to give me shit for enjoying a cold one on my day off." Rudy snorted. the booze took away what little filters he had and well, it wasn't like Iris or Wally or Mary were there to give him any shit.

"..I'm actually on my way back from a conference, and thought I'd drop by and see wally for a bit. and maybe enjoy your charming company." Barry said, then added. "Though PLEASE tell me you haven't been drinking in front of him? That's a bad example Rudy."

"Well Barry, when I want you to tell me how to raise my son I'll ask. Maybe I could give you advise on how to raise YOUR kids..Oh wait." Rudy said, smirking then taking a long drink, not aware the man he was insults could of stranded him in the middle of a city in just his boxers because he'd even know what was happening, and that Barry was fighting the urge to do so at this moment. "in any case, Wally's not here. He's in the ER with his mother. the little Klutz fell down the stairs and pretty sure he broke his ankle."

"Wait what? If he broke his ankle why aren't you-" Barry started, anger and fear mixing.

"Kid shit his pants and smelled something awful, so I stayed behind. wasn't room for me in the ambulance." Rudy paused and anther smirk. "and since I've been drinking I didn't wanna drive, I thought you'd appreciate that Barry."

"..How did Wally fall down the steps?" Barry asked, voice going low as something about the attuide and smugness in the man's voice had Barry worried.

"Stupid little dork tripped over his own pissy diaper when it hit the floor. you know he's wearing 24/7 now? started pissing himself at school!"

"...Rudy I happen to be VERY good at my job, and I'm going to drive over to the ER now and talk with Mary and see how wally's doing. If there's something you wanna tell me now, it'll help you out in the long run." Barry said, pushing his way into the house and the smile vanished from Rudy's face.

"I..I don't know what your-" Rudy stammered out, looking anywhere but at Barry now.

as much as Barry wanted to get the story out of Ruby, maybe go a little batman on him, his biggest concern was getting to wally before Mary, ever the dotting wife could convince Wally to keep the truth to himself.

"This is NOT over Rudy. Think about what I said about helping yourself. It IS what your best at." Barry said and stormed out.

Rudy gulped and slumped to the floor, wondering if it might of been time to call in some vacation time and take a little trip before Barry came back.

Barry's knuckles were going white as he drove to the nearest hospital, he wanted to just zip over but having the flash show up for a kid only Barry should know would of been against secret identity rule number one.

Still the time wasted on getting a parking spot and having to get directions irked him to no end when he knew he could of searched the place in less then 1.5 seconds.

Finding Mary sitting outside of the OR, he walked over to her and was silently counting down in his head as she looked annoyed and mad she was waiting on her only child to get out of surgery then worried.

"Barry, what are you doing here?" she asked, shocked and sounding a little worried.

"I went to stop by for a visit and Rudy told me what happened.." Barry said, then added. "How's Wally?"

"It's taking longer then they thought, they had to stop and change his diapers because he shit himself again. Like it wasn't taking long enough." Mary said and rolled her eyes then caught herself. "I mean, I just.. I'm annoyed he hurt himself is all. he should be really more careful where he puts his toys." She added fast.

Already spotting the difference in stories, Barry just rolled with it.

"Yeah, Rudy said it was a toy truck I believe. " Barry lied., hoping to catch her in the lie.

She looked confused for a second, then nodded.

"well, since he's started needing diaper ALL the time and his friends at school have shunned him, he's gone pretty infantile." she said.

"..Mary with this happening at home you know child services will be investigating right? So as a CSI my advice to you is to make sure you tell the truth. whatever it may be." Barry said, crossing his arms across his chest.

he didn't have the broad shoulders of Batman or superman, but he a twig either and cut a imposing frame.

"W-what do you mean by that?" She asked.

"Rudy told me Wally tripped down the stairs because of his diapers, you told me a toy, I'm damn good at my job Mary but it doesn't take a genius to guess what happened. I SAW the bruises last time me and Iris had him." Barry said flatly.

"I-I swear, it's not me Barry!" Mary said, keeping her voice low and looking around the waiting room now. it was only the two of them and it was clear she was scared now. "if I don't go along with it Rudy wi-" She started to add, But Barry cut her off.

"Iris and you went swimming together not too long ago and she would of told me about any bruises. If Rudy was mentally harming you then you would of taken this chance to out him. So drop the victim act."

"..Oh like you know what it's like, having a promising young boy end up pissing himself and shitting him and looking at his own parents with disdain because he'd rather be with his aunt and her side piece!" Mary snarled.

"watch your tone. Look, I'm willing to help you and Rudy out with this, stay out of jail because I don't want wally to have to visit you in prison..but the price is going to be simple and clear." Barry said.

"Let me guess, you need a loan?" Mary said, a smug smirk on her face reaching for a check book.

"I don't want your Money. I want wally somewhere safe. Me and Iris are going to take custody of him and your NOT going to contest it."

Mary argue, she called the house to tell Rudy about it but he wasn't answering having already taken off, leaving a note for Mary on where to find him and in the end Barry had his way. With Mary taking a taxi back home Barry cleared that he was the impending legal guardian and then located a pay phone. Calling Iris as he wanted on Wally to recover after his surgery to tell her everything that had happened, The only part of the whole thing she disagreed with was Barry letting them off Scott free.

After that he put in a call to a few friends in the DA and family court back in Central city and got assured the whole thing would be settled with minimal fuss.

Wally giggled softly as they wheeled him out of recovery. he was naturally in a wheelchair and dressed in a green gown that fluttered in the AC of the building revealing the thick green tinted diapers he was wearing and his left foot had a sock on it while the right had a thick off white cast around it. The boys freckles stood out as he smiled, his orangish red hair a mess and his eyes totally glazed over.

"Unca Barry! Hiiii!" he giggled and for a second went to get out of the chair before a nurse gently pushed him back down.

"Lizard queen, we talked about this, you can't walk yet." she said with a smile on her face and a amused tone.

"..Lizard queen?" Barry asked.

"Your nephew apparently has next to no tolerance for pain killers and well.." the blond nurse started but was cut off by Wally tossing his arms up.

"I AM THE LIZARD QUEEN! FEAR ME!" He giggled and coo'ed.

Barry snorted and nodded.

"I see. well is her Majesty ready to be signed out yet?" he asked, coming over and patting a head on wally head, a paternal gesture to most, and it was head, though he was also looking for lumps or bruises.

"we'd like to keep him for a little while longer, at least until he's more lucid and well, his clothes are clean and out of the landry. I'm sure the lizard queen would prefer not to drive around in just a diaper." the nurse chuckled."besides, you might wanna go and stock up on some item's Mr. Allen."

"Heh, touche. Wall man, you gonna be ok with the nurse while Uncle Barry goes and gets some supplies for you?"

"I can count to purple." Wally giggled and held out his arms for a hug.

"Oh wow, thats VERY talented!" Barry chuckled and kneeled down, Hugging the smaller boy gently and then feeling Wally slump and pulling back, alarmed.

"Relax Mr.Allen, it's the drugs, he's just been sleepy. Someone will stay with hi in his room to watch him." She said, putting a reassuring hand on Barry's shoulder.

the statement was made to sound like it was because of his drugged state, but the underline was that they were making sure Mr. and Mrs.west didn't come back.

"I'll be back as fast as I can." Barry said and took off.

Getting in the car he drove out to a field where he could park it and felt assured it would be left alone for at least a few minutes. Sliding out from behind the wheel and hitting a special ring he wore out popped a compressed version of his costume and making around in a blur, he quickly suited up and then put his clothes in the back seat of his car.

Experience had taught him that when it came to what he was likely going to need to to to pack a duffel bag for wally, his normal clothes wouldn't of made it.

in the micro seconds it took him to get to the west household a check check confirmed that the doors were locked and not wanting to give them any chance of coming back and getting him or Iris in trouble Barry backed up a few feet in their back yard where the sight of the flash wouldn't be seen(or at least not as easily) for the 2 seconds it would take to ready himself for this.

One of his more useful skills could also be terribly destructive if he wasn't careful so taking a deep breath he readied himself then started to dash at the back door, willing his molecules to vibrate just right and he was able to phase though the door clearly, not blowing it up like he'd done when he'd first learned this trick.

Racing up the stair Barry helped himself to a duffel bag and filled it with some of Wally's clothes, recalling his favorite t-shirts and pants, and as well as the boys gaming devices and a few of his action figures and books, and of course the teddy bear wearing a costume just like Barry's that they'd made at a make bear last year.

with the duffel bag full Barry helped himself to a back pack now, and filled it with the thick, over the top babyish diapers the wests had gotten their son, that while cute and made Barry warm up to a idea he was getting, made him fume as it was clear they had been trying to shame the boy out of his accidents.

he also helped himself to the changing supplies and noted the extra steanght diaper rash cream and made a note to ask the nurse about if wally had a rash when he got back.

Giving the room one last look over, Barry slowed down enough to be hit by the smell of the diaper pail in the corner and grimaced, smell molecules couldn't affect him when he was moving at super speed but they tended to come back with a vengeance once he slowed down.

Looking in the diaper pail the thing didn't even have a bag in it and was set where the sun was sure to hit it as well, and had marking on the inside showing how full it had to be before Wally would of been allowed to change it.

"..Should of smashed the bastard into a pulp when I had the chance." he growled, then sped back up, leaving the room.

he simply unlocked the back door and placed the bags on the grass as they wouldn't of survived the trip though the door then went back in and re locked it and zipped back though it before packing the bags in the car and changing back to his normal clothes, the whole thing taking all of maybe five minutes.

Getting behind the wheel of the car, he fished out a JLA commutator he kept with him at all times (which all Justice leaguer's were required to do, though some like Green tended to forget) and made a call to Batman, for the plan he had to make wally happy and settle in at home and life with the Allen's, he was going to need a bit of finical help.

Once the situation was explained Bruce was only too happy to help though recommended that they take Wally's recovery slowly, but warned Barry he wouldn't hold back if the west's happened to end up in Gotham city.

Barry took Batman's advice and extended his leave, even after wally was discharged from the hospital they didn't go to Central city right away, Barry taking the sullen and emotional boy to several road side attractions on the drive back.

wally had been unwilling to confirm that he'd been pushed down the stairs at first, even when it became clear that his parents had admitted to at least some of it. (as it turned out he'd been pushed down the stairs twice before this.)

The worried about diaper rash had been confirmed and while Wally whined that he could look after his own diaper changes, Barry was having NONE of that and insisted on changing his nephew, teasing the blushing boy about the freckles on his butt that became more clear as the rash faded.

Wally also was embarrassed at first but grew to like how Barry insisted on carrying the boy instead of making him use his crutches, his thin and light frame made it easy enough.

Getting home to central city Barry was all smiles and wally was actually more relaxed and ok, even eager to see Iris as they pulled up, who was in fact waiting in the drive way for them and rushed out.

"Wally! How are you? Are you ok?" She asked, showering the boy in hugs and kisses and fussing over him as he got out of the car on his crutches, having insisted on not being carried into the house.

"I'm fine aunt Iris, just a little sore. Aunt iris I'm.. Iris.. Barry help!" Wally giggled and then gave a mock plea for help.

"heh, Maybe let him get in the door before you shower him with love?" Barry suggested, getting his bags and Wally's out of the trunk of the car.

"Never!" iris chuckled but did back up, while adding. "Just so you know little guy, expect lots of that from me."

"heh, well I suppose I'll allow that." Wally said, grinning like a goof ball as he made his way towards the front door.

Iris and Barry exchanged grins, as if to say 'that's cute, he thinks he has a choice!'

getting the wall man inside Barry put the bags down by the door and swept Wally off his feet.

"wally, there's a little something that me and your aunt have been meaning to talk with you about, and we think it's going to help your recovery a lot." Barry said, heading for a room on the first floor that had been converted into wallies new room since they didn't like the idea of him having to go up and down stairs.

"Oh? what is it?" wally asked, not even fighting it as he was carried on Barry's hip, his thick diaper puffing out his cargo shorts.

"well, we think a bit of regression therapy would help with your recovery so on that note.." Barry said, and opened the door to Wally's new room.

The wall's were painted flash red with little flash symbols on the walls every few feet and there was a light yellow plush carpet on the floor.

what caught Wally's eyes though as the little guy's jaw dropped was the large changing table and a crib in the room, as well as a large toy chest.

"So.." Iris said coming up and kissing Wally's cheek. "what do you think of your nursery?"

[shaekingshitup]

MIRACLES HAPPEN

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

A/N: Y’ALL! I WAS DUPED! @teakturn puts out a 25 Days of Christmas every year and my dumbass said I would do it too. But I decided to add a little diversity to the culture and we’re doing a Chrismukkah adventure this year on this blog! This is picking up after this request that I got earlier this year. None of this shit is proofread because I am literally just writing by the seat of my pants so read at your own discretion. I will probably end up rewriting this entire mini series in the future. But enjoy it now. If you wanna be tagged, lmk! Also, I know that in In Sight I said there was a cure for COVID. Swap that out for a vaccine y’all. Viruses can’t be cured. 

Word Count: 2300 

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

December 18, 2022

“Baby you ready?!” Tre called into the house as reached into the basket on his way to the garage. He came up empty handed for the keys to his Lexus. Opening the door to the garage, he saw Sol sitting in the passenger seat of the running car. 

Tre walked over to his baby as Sol smirked at him. 

“You late again,” she said. 

“I’m never late,” Tre said opening the door and climbing in,  “You just early as always,” he shot back as he put the car in reverse. Sol playfully rolled her eyes. After two years of being together, this was always their running joke. The first time they’d met, she’d been pacing back and forth awaiting his arrival. Even after finding their own groove, she still found herself being the one waiting for him- but, he always made it worth it so it was hard for her to complain.

Tre pulled out of the driveway and clicked the remote to shut the door. Out of instinct, his hand went to Sol’s thigh when he put it in drive. “Did you grab my yarmulke?” Tre asked as he threw her a glance. 

“Please don’t insult me. This ain’t my first feast Nemo.” the indignant manner which she spoke had her and Tre struggling to keep in their bouts of laughter. “Yes, baby. They’re in the backseat.” 

“Good. Good. What’s the other name for them again?” Tre asked as he merged onto the nearly empty highway. A five a.m call time could be a blessing and a curse. 

“Kippah” is the Hebrew word for the male cap and “kippot” is the Hebrew word for the female cap.” Sol answered on autopilot as she mused on their situation. She was still taken aback that they’d been contacted by Black Juice to begin with. She’d been following them ever since they’d done that feature with Drake talking about how his own Jewish faith influenced his career path. Although she wasn’t as active in her Jewish faith as she’d wished she’d been in recent years it was still a huge victory to be acknowledged by the leading Black Jewish media network. Okay so maybe they were the only Black Jewish media network. But that definitely meant they were in the lead! She wasn’t stupid to think that this kind of opportunity would have come without Trevante in her life. But, she wasn’t gonna knock it either. 

This 8 Days of Miracles was the perfect task she needed as she figured out what the next step was for her career. Now that she’d finally finished her academic portion of her career she wasn’t sure how to proceed. So throwing herself into this project and hosting both her family and Tre’s for the holidays was the best distraction she could ask for. This time always gave her hope and made her realize that any kind of bullshit she’d put up with wasn’t in vain. It was her annual reset. New Year’s be damned. It also made her feel closer to her father and there wasn’t anyone in this world she’d loved more. At least that’s what she’d thought. She felt pressure on her thigh from the number one contender for her heart as Tre gave her a slight squeeze. 

“What’s on ya mind Sunshine?” Sol looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but cheese. She still beamed every time he called her by that nickname. 

“I was thinking about my dad and how proud he’d be to see me reppin his faith,” Sol said absentmindedly touching her necklace. Tre listened attentively as he grazed his thumb against her thigh in a gentle motion. “ I mean, I don’t know if he could have known that all of the years he instilled in us the value of miracles when we were children we’d still be celebrating Hanukkah after he was gone.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t know.” Tre started out slowly. He honestly wasn’t even sure if she’d finished her thoughts, “But, he probably hoped you would.” The phone rang as they turned off the street and into the lot. “STEPH 👷🏿‍♀️💪🏿” flashed across the Caller ID on his dashboard. Tre clicked the answer button on his steering wheel as Sol handed him his badge to show to Nico, the Security Attendant. 

“We’re at Security Steph,” Tre answered as he nodded at Nico. 

“Okay good. I just wanted to make sure we were starting the day off on time.” Tre and Sol shared a glance. 

“Woman don’t start with me. Call time is 5 and it’s 4:39. We don’t play that late shit over here and you know it.

“Well,  I also grabbed your favorite donuts from Craft Services so no one else would steal them and I wanted to know how long I had to hoard them for your ungrateful self. I can put them back if you’d like sir,” 

“Steph. You can ignore Tre.” Sol chimed in. “We appreciate you and will be walking in the door in exactly 2 minutes. Tre is parking as we speak. We’ll see you soon.”

“Tre, you lucky you have her. Keep her if you want to keep the best managent in town. Bye y’all!!” Steph sang as she hung up. Sol let out a cackle because Steph refused to be referred as anything other than a managent as Tre stood there dumbfounded at how he was being left out to dry. But he knew better than to go against two black women before he’d even finished his morning coffee. He just hopped out the whip and opened Sol’s door so she could do the same. 

Once they’d gotten their morsels of food, gone through hair and makeup and snapped a few photos for Black Juice and their own social media accounts, they were back on the road headed deeper into LA. They had a cameraman in the backseat filming their every move, one car guided them to their location and another followed them as they maneuvered through the cars that were poppin up for their morning commutes. Sol was on her IG live and answering any questions that popped up about where they were headed and her Hanukkah festivities. She watched as the number quickly jumped from 5,000 viewers to 13,000 and counting. She wasn’t sure what this many people were doing up at this hour but she wasn’t complaining. Tre’s mama was of course one of them. He was a mama’s boy through and through and she was always there to support him at any opportunity she could. Sol made sure to greet her specifically. Tre bopped his head to some Jill Scott- being careful not to let his yarmulke fall. Sol sipped some hot cocoa from her thermos and sang off key with him. As soon as they turned on a residential street, she felt awash in a new warmth that the hot chocolate couldn’t touch. She shook Tre’s arm enthusiastically. 

“It’s time!!” she beamed, “Are you ready?!” Tre chuckled at her immediate change in attitude. The car in front was already parked and the camera crew was out on the sidewalk. 

“Yes Sol. I’m ready to spread some holiday cheer. Let’s go make somebody’s day he said. Before Tre could even put the car in park, she was reaching for the handle” 

“AHT AHT AHT” Tre barked out loud causing the cameraman man in the backseat to jump,“ Tre was already exiting the driver’s side and pointed his finger at her as he crossed in front of the car “Don’t even try it.” Sol rolled her eyes and pouted as she waited the few seconds for him to open her door. 

“Thanks Tre,” she stuck out her tongue. She was like a kid in a candy store and was ready to full out sprint to the front door. The IG live comments were flying. 

Okay Daddy Tre! I need a mans to talk to me like that. 🥵🥵

Did this man just bark at her? 🐶

Loook so long as he handles this backdoor he can open any other door that he pleases sis!

Y’all females is wylin as usual. 

Sol glanced at them. “Imma need y’all to stay out of grown folks’ business and just enjoy this holiday work we are puttin in okay” She handed her phone to another crew member and grabbed Tre’s hand to drag him to the front door. 

She pushed the button for the doorbell but no sound rang out. Tre gave three succinct raps on the door and heard someone rushing down the stairs. The door was flung open by a woman in black slacks and a blinding blue polo emblazoned with a nametag that ironically labeled this young woman as “Tangerine”. She couldn’t be more than 25 years old and the toddler saddled on her hip only added to her youthful appearance. 

“Hi Tangerine,” Tre began, “My name’s Trevante and this is Sol,” he gestured to Sol at his side. 

“Hi?” Tangerine answered confused at this couple and the cameras that followed them. 

“We’re here today with Black Juice, a local Black organization that highlights the experience of the Black Jewish community and we’re doing 8 Days of Miracles,” 

“Okay..” Tangerine said not sounding any less confused. “ I’m not Jewish.”  Sol took over as she could tell that Tre’s efforts weren’t getting them anywhere.

“We’re here because your friend Kira sent in a letter telling us about  how great of a mother you are. She said that you’ve been working two jobs here to support you and your daughter.” At this, Sol smiled at the baby, “She told us that the second job you have is for daycare expenses alone.  We wanted to come out here today and let you know that we see what you do and how hard you go to make sure you give your daughter the best. So, we wanted to help you out and give you this. “ Tre gave her the envelope he had in his hand. It read “Day 1: Tangerine”

Tangerine took the envelope as Tre explained. “We’ve paid for your daughter’s child care for the next two years so you can give yourself a break.” She opened the envelope to see the receipt from Tiny Tots Kindercare and didn’t even know what to do. 

“I don’t know what to say.” She paused for a moment as what this truly meant registered in her mind. “I can quit this job and actually spend more time with my baby and focus on my candles.” 

“Your candles?” Sol asked. 

“Yeah. I make candles by hand. I took a few classes and have played with a few scents. Some friends have asked me to make them some and I’ve been waitin to be a little more secure with my money before I start at it.” she answered exhaling deeply. 

“Do you have any candles right now?” Tre asked peeking a little further in her apartment. Sol slapped his arm. 

“Could you be any nosier?” she chastised with love. 

“Yeah I have some. Do you mind holding Layla?” she asked but she practically threw the child into Sol’s arms as she ran to grab her stash of candles. Sol put on her sweetest voice and spoke to Layla about how old she was and if she liked her friends at daycare. When her mom came back Sol could see the sheer joy that she had when showing off her handiwork. 

Tangerine went through all six of her candles and their various scents with them and by the end Tre had bought each one. She was floored and couldn’t do anything but cry at the way her morning was turning around. It wasn’t even 7:30 and she’d already gotten 2 years of childcare, a reason to quit her grocery store job and someone who actually wanted to buy her candles. 

Before they left, Tre made her promise to hit him up when her site and IG were live so he could get more candles and share it with all of his friends. Sol returned Layla to her mother saying her goodbyes and grabbed Tre’s hand to head back to car. She leaned on his shoulder and he could see the contentment in her eyes. Sol almost forgot her phone before a crewmember handed it back. 

She came back to the IG Live trying not to get too emotional. “Look at that y’all! Day one of Hanukkah is off to a start and we’ve already proved that miracles happen! Y’all better stay tuned in over the next week so you can see who we pop in on next. You never know if it could be you! Thanks to Black Juice for giving us this opportunity to turn someone’s ordinary day into something smile about. Y’all betta check them out so you can see the full footage of what we’ve got goin on! Bye y’all!

“Bye y’all!” Tre called out. They answered a few more questions with Black Juice, said their goodbyes and climbed back into their car. 

“Can we go back to bed now?” Tre asked as he pulled back onto the main road and his hand founds Sol’s thigh again. Sol laughed. 

“I mean if that’s what you prefer we can. I had some other things in mind.” she suggested. 

Tre raised his eyebrow. “I swear you see one baby and you always go 0 to 100”

“Look, I just believe in practicing all aspects of having a child! Even the making part.” 

Tre threw his head back laughing. “I’m wit it babygirl”

DING! 

“That’s me” Sol said. She looked at her phone screen. A text from “Mama Rhodes” popped up.  She’d sent some Pinterest looking bible verse again. 

This was the third one this week. It dampened her mood immediately and caused her to groan. The text read: 

Seeing you with that little girl made me so happy for the good Christian grandbabies that you and Tre will be blessing me with in the future. I thank Jesus for the miracle of you and my baby everyday XO. 

“Tre, I got another one from your mom. When are you gonna talk to her?” 

Tre sighed. “I promise. I’ll talk to her soon and it will definitely be before your Chrismukkah Extravaganza. Don’t sweat it baby.” 

Sol did her best not to think about how pushy his mother was being about this raising Christan grandbabies nonsense ever since they announced they’d be partnering with Black Juice. All she could do is trust Tre and do what she was best at: wait. 

---------------

@ghostfacekill-monger @thadelightfulone

[scribbles97]

Gunshot Wound

All I’m saying is these space bros don’t get enough time out together. 

@kenzie-running-free​ I believe you requested John and Gunshot Wound ...

It had been intended as some down time for him, as a break from being in space and fielding calls day in day out. For Alan it was meant to be a chance to be a kid again, and have a day with no responsibilities that he had so often missed out on when he had been younger. For them both it was meant as some brotherly bonding time and a chance to reminisce about days gone by. 

Alan had always loved trips to Kennedy Space Centre, he and John both had never grown out of that sense of awe at those first explorations beyond the confines of their atmosphere. Even as adults and both astronauts in their own rights, there was still something humbling about visiting the museum. 

Unfortunately, being Tracy’s came with a certain level of recognition. It was with good reason the pair rarely visited the corner of the third floor devoted to the first Mars landings. Whilst Alan barely remembered the occasion, both knew enough about the mission from the direct source without needing the reminder of the father that was still missing in their lives. Both got fed up with the whispers and second glances they received through the rest of their tour, and neither felt up to the task of answering questions from over-interested visitors. 

“Dad used to love answering questions in there.” Alan commented as they passed the exhibit in question, “Do you remember?”

John did remember. He remembered people interrupting his day out with his dad for autographs and photos, asking questions that John himself knew were answered on the plaques across the walls. He remembered fading into the background as big bold Jeff Tracy soaked up the attention in the same way that Scott always did. 

“Yeah,” He sighed, ducking his chin deeper into his scarf, “I remember.” 

“Wanna go and see what’s new in there?” 

It was simply a question of courtesy, lacking any of the youngests usual enthusiasm. For once, John hardly felt any guilt for shaking his head. 

“Hey, you two!” 

Midweek, midwinter, the centre was hardly rammed with visitors, so it was instinct for both to look back towards the exhibit as they had begun to turn away. 

“You’re Jeff Tracy’s kids, right?”

John straightened, something about the woman dressed in dark jeans and a too big black hoodie sending a slight tingle down his spine. 

“We are, yes.” He nodded politely, “Though we are here on a personal visit today, and don’t have time for any questions.”

Her smile was sweet, pink like Penelope’s against equally pale skin. Jello green hair was tucked up under her beanie, only a few strands escaping out to frame her face. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Her hand waved vaguely, “I wasn’t here to ask any questions.”

“Look lady,” Alan sighed still edging away from the exhibit, “I dunno what you want but me and my brother are just here for a break, so can you please just respect that?”

She snorted as her smile turned bitter, “There’s no need to be rude, kid.”

John glared, stepping towards her, “Hey, he made a perfectly reasonable request. I recommend that you respect that.”

Her head tilted as her smile dropped, “Or what?”

“Or I’ll file for harassment.” 

“Oh, I think harassment is going to be the least of your worries.”

Before John could ask what she meant, her other had was out of the pouch on the front of her hoodie, a gun brandished towards him, a finger tensing on the trigger and a crack splitting the quiet air. 

“John!” 

He barely registered Alan’s yell as the world tipped sideways and his shoulder hit the floor hard. 

He’d never been shot. Scott, Kayo, and Penelope had, but he was the quiet brother most frequently in orbit, hidden away safely from the dangers of idiots on earth (At least mostly). 

From what he had been told, it was meant to hurt a hell of a lot more than the sudden ache from where his body had crash landed. 

As his brain caught up, he realised that it wasn’t the shock of being shot that had sent him down, a much greater force had hit him in the side. 

“Alan.” He gasped out as he pushed himself up, eyes immediately finding the smaller form of his baby brother. 

And the pool of blood under him. 

A curse might have slipped from his mouth as he shuffled the small distance between them. 

“Ow.” The younger breathed, eyes screwed shut, “That hurt.” 

“Hold still and focus on staying awake.” John told him, trying to focus on the fact that at least he was awake despite the hole in his chest, “That was a stupid move.” 

“Heh,” Alan grinned, “Saved your life, di’n I?”

“John!” Eos exclaimed, her hologram appearing from his watch as John pulled his scarf from around his neck, “I am receiving reports of a firearms discharge at your location. Report.”

“Alan’s been shot.” He stated as he pressed the blue-green wool against the wound, “I need EMT here now. Unknown female assailant has fled the scene, green hair, black hoodie and hat.”

“Emergency services are on their way, as is Thunderbird one.”

Alan grunted at the comment, his face screwing up further as he sucked in a slow breath, “Scott’ll kill me.”

“Too right.” John uttered under his breath, “You stay awake Allie, hear me? I’m not getting the blame for this.”

Blue eyes met his as a smile spread across the youngers lips, “Was your idea.”

“My idea was for you to come up to Five.” He corrected, “I say next time we stick with that.”

A sound that was meant to be a laugh broke off into a gargled cough, red the colour of Alan’s baldric splashing against his lips. Glee shifted to fear in his eyes as he looked up to John. 

“Hey,” He snapped, demanding the attention, “You stay with me, okay? It’s gonna be fine, you’re going to be alright.” 

Because it had to be fine. He couldn’t let it be anything else, least of all there right outside their Dad’s exhibit. 

Tears glistened as bright as the blood in the fluorescent lights, the bright baby blues as afraid as they once had been of thunder. John had been there then too, reading books about the stars until the younger blond fell asleep on his bed despite the storm. 

Except this time Alan needed to stay awake. 

“Talk to me Allie,” He pleaded, “Just stay awake, okay?” 

His lips trembled as he gave the smallest of nods, “‘m sorry J’hn.”

He forced a scoff, tried to sound as brave as Scott always did, “You can apologise to Scott for all those grey hairs.”

There should have been a response, some sort of laugh and a comment about their big brother dying his hair again. 

There shouldn’t have been eyes that closed and a soft exhale. 

“Alan.” He demanded, “Alan open your eyes. Alan? Alan!”

No, he couldn’t lose him as well. He couldn’t lose his baby brother too. 

Hands on his shoulders pulled him back as uniformed EMTs stepped in, “Alan!” 

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 2

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: Blood, gore, panic attack mention, violence

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn't see Stiles for another two days, but when you did see him, he wasn't alone.

"Y/n! Over here!" Stiles called you from across the quad, despite the almost murder college life hadn't slowed down much at all, and your local coffee shop was still swamped with people. Instead of leaving your place in line to see Stiles and the tan man next to him, you beckoned them over to you, indirectly inviting them for coffee as well.

Stiles shuffled up next to you, still not use crutches, and dragged Scott along with him, introducing you both immediately.|

"Scott this is Y/n, Y/n this is Scott." You both shook hands and exchanged greetings, a comfortable small talk taking over the three of you. You'd been so close to getting your sweet iced tea when a blood curdling scream rang out from the shop. Everyone ran towards it, including you, Scott, and Stiles, but when the general population saw the body of a barista, throat slit and bleeding out onto the counter still holding someone's drink, they ran away. Another scream came, this time from behind the "employee only" door and you all looked at each other before running towards it. Stiles burst through first, taking off seconds later to round the corner with you and Scott not far behind. You barely avoided running into one another as Stiles stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a man, possibly a college senior, holding a knife to the throat of a crying barista who couldn't have been older than 19. She cried out to you three and immediately you all sprung into action.

Without a second thought Stiles grabbed the nearest object, a wooden crate, and ran towards the man who in response dropped the barista and charged at him. Scott had already transformed and was charging towards the man as well, fangs and claws out, his eyes glowing a blood red as he focused on his target. You panicked for a moment, frantically looking around for a way to help, when you caught sight of a pipe hanging above the man's head. Taking a deep breath you blocked out the scene around you, focusing only on the pipe you threw your hands forwards, sending blades of air to cut off a section of the metal which then fell just behind the man, the metal rolling forwards and tripping him into Scott's waiting claws.

Stiles at this point had backed off and run towards the barista, who was curled in a ball and crying on the floor, still bleeding slightly from where the knife had pressed into her throat. She was sobbing as he talked her down from her panic attack, a skill he had mastered by now. When she calmed down he made her promise to not tell the police what he, or his friends, looked like and she agreed, still shaken up from the entire ordeal.

On the strong possibility that you and Stiles would be suspects, having been at, as you're aware of, the only two crime scenes, you all decided that you'd simply go back to Stiles' dorm to have his watered-down coffee. The walk back was quiet, no one had seen your feat of magic and you pretended not to have seen Scott's shift, blaming the chaos and fear for your being frozen in place, which the boys believed. Stiles and Scott had comforted you the entire walk back to their dorm and you played heavily into the role of the scarred witness, leaning into Stiles' side for comfort and ignoring the warmth that spread through your body at the contact.

"I take it you're not from here Y/n." Scott assumed, head tilting in your direction as you settled into the boys' dorm for a cup of mediocre coffee.

"Nope, I'm from out East, DMV baby!" You laughed, proud of where your home was.

"DMV? No way, I wanna work out there." Stiles' eyes went wide, not paying attention to the coffee machine and almost spilling it onto his hands. Thankfully you managed to redirect it away from his hand with a small gust of wind, sparing him some nasty second degree burns.

"I kind of figured, FBI and all that." You waved your hand submissively, making Scott chuckle since you were the first woman outside of the pack who wasn't immediately taken with the fact that Stiles wanted to be a FBI agent.

"Well what do you want to do smartass?" Stiles rolled his eyes, not being used to someone who was unfazed by his career choice.

"I want to work for the ACLU in legal defense and legislation." You held your head high, the legacy of the ACLU and your family shining behind you as you were reminded of your mom's accomplishments before she passed.

"Ok I want to be a vet so I don't know what the hell you two are on." Scott's comment made you all laugh, the energy friendly and calm as you personalized your coffees to make them less plain. Stiles' cup looked almost light brown by the time he was done, it had a swirl of whipped cream on top of it and he slurped it down greedily.

"Can that even be considered coffee?" Your comment made Stiles roll his eyes, Scott having made similar ones before.

"That's what I said! He doesn't even need all the sugar, look at him he's hyper enough." Scott made an exasperated noise as he gestured to Stiles who was fidgeting as per usual and his leg was bouncing a mile a minute.

"ADHD?" You wondered aloud, a quick nod from Stiles and Scott confirming your theory which in turn caused you to mention your own ADHD casually so that Stiles hopefully wouldn't feel so called out.

"Great now you'll both be bouncing off the walls." Mutters came from Scott and you gave a snort in response, Stiles slipping his arm to lock with yours and playfully defend you of his roommate's accusations.

"She's not bouncing off the walls, look she's perfectly still!" While gesturing at you Stiles noticed your tremor, and the way you kept moving your feet in your shoes, choosing to ignore them in favor of winning in his defense of you.

You spent the rest of lunch with Stiles and Scott, milling about their dorm room while the conversation hopped from topic to topic, ending with a heated debate between you and Stiles over Star Wars and Star Trek.

"I cannot believe you're a Star Trek fan, that's so old!" You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the idea that something being old means it's bad.

"It's original! I can't watch Star Wars without thinking of Star Trek every second, they're a total rip-off!"

"That's not true! Star Wars has an entirely different plot, and they have different fights and different universes even!" Scott was banging his head against the wall, the nerd speak of his best friend and his best friend's new friend driving him absolutely insane with boredom.

"Enough! I have studying to do, or something, Stiles you have class in twenty minutes. No more nerdy stuff please." Letting out a chuckle you made your way towards the door, lingering so you could exchange numbers with them both. Stiles walked you down to the door of their building, gently holding your arm so you wouldn't leave immediately.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me a couple of days ago, again." His hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck while he chuckled, leaning against the doorframe to take the weight off of his injured leg.

"Yeah, 'course, no problem really." A shy smile appeared on your face, the blush heating your cheeks making you tilt your head down slightly as you tried to avoid looking in his eyes for fear of giving your feelings away.

"Well, I really appreciate it. So, I'll text you?" He was still nervous, the energy around you both crackling with tension.

"Yeah, absolutely." Your eyes met his for a final goodbye as you reluctantly turned away, giving him a wave while you suppressed the grin that was threatening to overtake your face. A grin that finally came out as soon as you turned away, and didn't leave until you made it back to your own dorm, smiling like an idiot while you thought about him.

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act 1 - Part 4

The Game Night

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: Game night with your cast and crew turns into a silent game of cat and mouse between you and Chris.

Warnings: Profanity, Sexual connotations, drunken silliness

Notes: This one was a fun challenge for me. Wanted to make sure there was a decent amount of conflict, but it was hard cos I am the queen of avoiding drama IRL; literally don’t know how that shit starts lol. Enjoy! Read the previous part here and check out the moodboard + music here.

Lush, autumnal trees that have yet to drop their leaves become more abundant and houses fit for large families grow farther apart as your Uber takes you from the bustling Boston city into the neighboring suburbs. Over the last few weeks, between staying with your sister in her Boston brownstone and filming on location on Harvard’s campus, you’ve become familiar with the urban terrain. You’re looking forward to the slowness of the suburbs, even if it’s just for an evening. It’s an experience you missed since being on tour non-stop. Always in an airport, then some large city, then on stage, in front of thousands. The quiet of the suburbs had evaded you the past few years, so you welcomed it with open arms.

“Whatcha got back there?” You had hoped having your earbuds in would keep talking at bay, but Charlie, the older gentleman driving your Uber, had other plans. The stress of his vowels lets you know he’s Boston born and bred. “I won’t say it smells bad, just… interesting!” 

In the backseat with you are a ton of old, dusty games you borrowed from your sister, but no matter how musky, you know he’s talking about the aromatic platters of food. “Oh, it’s um, samosas.”

“Orange juice and bubbly got the cah smelling like that?!”

You giggle slightly at his misunderstanding, “Not MImosa; SAmosa. Here, try one.” You hand Charlie a fried savory pastry.

He screws his face at it, the sight obviously foreign to him. “What is it?”

“It’s a fried pastry with some really flavorful potatoes and peas on the inside. Go on! You’ll love it!”

Charlie takes a tentative bite, then widens his eyes as the food hits his palate. You both begin to nod at each other slowly, knowingly.

“Good right?”

“So good! Where’d you get this?”

“From the Indian place on Columbia.”

“Oh I know that place! Pass it all the time, never go in. Smells weird.”

“It doesn’t smell weird; it’s just different to you. But now that I’ve introduced you to something on the menu, it won’t be so foreign to you, now will it?”

“You know what, you’re right! Next time I pass by, I’ll order me some, um, what’s this called again?”

“Samosa.”

“Yeah, samosa. Thanks miss!”

“No problem.” You love introducing others as well as yourself to new cultures, part of the reason you don’t mind being on the road so much.

“Wanna know something? My Ma has a restaurant on Columbia, too.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it called?” You ready your phone to look it up, but Charlie is already handing you a takeout menu. “Thanks. ‘L'amore Della Madre’. Mother’s Love?”

“Sì! Puoi parlare Italiano?”

“No, at all. I can read a little if I go slow and the words are short, but that’s just about it.”

“Well if you come by, tell ‘em Charlie sent you, and you’ll get free Italian lessons!”

“Really?”

“No, but they’ll treat you like family and you’ll learn all the bad words you’ll ever need to know.” You both laugh as you pull up to a gate with a call box. You tell Charlie the passcode to let you through —‘Harvard Hottie’, to which he quirks his brow at you through the rear view mirror.

“My friend thinks very highly of himself,” you laugh as you think about how excited Scott was to make that the passcode. He’s been highly excited in general about having some of cast and crew over for game night, insisting it was a great way to bond and team build.

“Your friend has got some money, huh?” Charlie remarks as he drives the stretch of winding road along a sizable amount of land before there’s a grand but understated farmhouse in view. Yeah, I guess so. Scott is living well. Good for him.

The car parks in front of the house, and you bid farewell to Charlie, gifting him another samosa for the road. “Thanks sweetheart, and I’ll see you at Ma’s sometime soon, yeah? We’ll get you set up with a nice Italian boy, ok?”

What is with everyone and setting me up?? “Least of my worries, Charlie. Least of my worries.” You collect your cumbersome party offerings and head for the door, then ring the doorbell with your pinky, as it’s the only appendage you can get free. As you struggle to balance the things in your hand, the door opens. You have a nervous smile ready to greet whatever familiar face that will be on the other side of the door, but it fades into a nervous confused expression as you take in the unexpected, but familiar face opposite yours.

There you are: dumbfounded and face to face with the one person you dutifully have not thought about or seen in the last few weeks since New York. Chris stands across the threshold looking widely at you, just as you are at him. You stare at each other for a few more seconds before you fumble with the stuff in your hands, Chris catching them effortlessly.

“Woah there, I’ll get those for you.”

“No, it’s ok.” The two of you do an awkward little dance trying to keep the things from falling. Just then, Scott comes from another room to greet you, but is met with the sight of you and Chris, each holding a little bit of everything, and one another, in order to keep the things between your bodies from hitting the floor. Scott can’t help but smirk at the two of you before coming over to help some of the things out of your hands. He’s quick to leave you alone with Chris, disappearing around a corner.

“Um… it’s good to see you again…”

“Uh-huh, that’s nice. SCOTT! Can I talk to you a moment?” you say as you go in the direction Scott disappeared in. You’re brought to a large, homey kitchen. You take in the simplistic decor, modern but rustic design and clean state of it. Scott was at the counter, already digging into the samosas and looking through your tattered game selection.

“I thought you said this was a cast and crew get together. What’s your brother doing here?”

“Well, I'm staying with him while we’re filming; couldn’t just kick him out of his own house! Besides, he hosts a WICKED game night and offered to help.”

“What’s with y’all Bostonians and ‘wicked’? Like, who the hell actually says that?”

“Plus I figured you guys hit off ‘cos he only asked me about a million times if you were coming…”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Knowing you couldn’t badmouth your costar and new friend’s brother, even if he had done so about you, you were careful with your answer.

“Look, I know what you and Mackie are up to and you gotta stop.”

“What EVER do you mean?”

You clench your teeth at his faux ignorance. “You know what I mean! Stop trying to set me up with your brother, or anyone for that matter. I need to focus on our film, ok?”

“Hey, is everything ok?” Chris comes to check on you and Scott.

“Yep, everything’s everything!” Scott turns to you, “I’m gonna go let everyone know you're here and that we’ll be starting in a few.” Scott excuses himself with a wink at you.You and Chris stand a few apart, stiff as rods. This literally couldn’t get more uncomfortable.

Thinking that if you gave Jimi the coffee and flowers, and focused on your work, you could magically disappear Chris from existence. You let yourself believe that you’d *unrealistically* never see him again, while Chris made sure that wouldn’t be the case. When he didn’t get a response for his green room gift, he knew he’d have to apologize in person, but he didn’t think too much about what he'd say.

Chris breaks the silence. “Soo, how’s filming going?”

You look at him, head tilted, eyes squinted, nose scrunched. Really? That’s what you’ve got to say to me right now?

“Right… that was—  listen, I—“

“Where’s your bathroom?” you interrupt him.

“Uh, down that hall to the left.”

“Thanks.” You briskly make your way there and whip out your phone. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Chris face palming himself. As soon as you’re in the bathroom, you FaceTime Jimi.

“Hey hun! What’s up?”

“Girl, he’s here!” Your voice is panicked.

“Use more descriptive words honey. Who is where?”

“Chris is here at the game night!”

“Ooookay… and that’s a problem because...”

“Because he’s gonna ask me why I didn’t respond to his apology gift and I’m gonna say what? ‘Cos it was lame attempt after you grossly offended me after playing nice in my face all night. Like dude, I thought we vibed!’” You catch your breath before you start again. “Jimi, I may act like I want the smoke, but I really don’t! What do I do?”

“First off, take a chill pill. Secondly, just steer clear, and be neutral. Play nice, but don’t get too friendly. No need to make this bigger than it is.”

You exhale at your friend’s rationality. “Ok. Ok, I can do that!”

“Yeah you can! I have faith in you! Now, leave me alone until tomorrow, I’m catching up on Insecure and this ice cream is NOT gonna finish itself. Love you, bye!” You hang up with Jimi, and repeat “steer clear, be neutral, play nice, not friendly” as a mantra, while opening your messages. You text your sister to remind her to pick you up at 10pm. She offered since she knew you’d be drinking and said she didn’t want her “drunk, famous little sister in an Uber at night. They might hold you for ransom!” Simultaneously annoyed and endeared by her concern, you accepted her offer. She replies affirmatively.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, you poke your head out, checking to see that the coast is clear of Chris. When you find that it is, you step out and exhale.

“Hey.”

“OH SHIT!” You jump at the sound of Chris’ voice behind you, clutching your imaginary pearls.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckles a bit, but stops as you side eye him. She's not gonna make this easy. He clears his throat. “Um, I was hoping I could talk to you for a few—“

“Hey Kid! Scott said you were here!” Mackie pulls you in for a hug. You hadn’t seen each other all week because you hadn’t shared scenes with him. “What’s up with ya?”

“Oh ya know… same old, same old,” you say with a shrug. You look over to Chris who's rubbing his neck.

“Hey!! Party in the hallway!” Ansel joins the three of you in the hallway already a little tipsy. “What are parlaying about?”

“Not how you use that word.” Ansel boops your nose as the hallway fills with a couple more people, and you were never more grateful for your overly personable, slightly invasive film family. You squeeze out of the “hallway party” towards the living room, relieved to have escaped interaction with Chris, but unsure of if you would be so lucky the rest of the night. 

----------------------------------------------

The group of about 30 cast and crew members congragate in the living room and are split into 2 teams: Team 1 In A Million and Team A-fucking-mazing. Team 1 In A Million includes you, Scott, and Jaden while Team A-fucking-mazing has Mackie, Ansel and your director, Sonya.

“Wait, we only have 14, they have 15!” Mackie complains.

“No need to whine, Mackie. Chris, I know you were gonna hang back some tonight, but you mind joining their team?” Scott gestures to the opposite team and Chris reluctantly joins them. He sits with his team on the end of the sofa across from you. He’s dressed like the big brother of a fraternity: cap on backwards that pulls his hair away from his crystal blue eyes, too tight t-shirt that show off his bulging biceps, basic jeans that accentuate his long legs, and a plain pair of color coordinated Nike’s, a size who knows, you just notice how big they are, and quite frankly, you find it all… mouth-watering. He offers you a shy smile and shrug, but you look away before you could melt and forget why you’re icing him in the first place. Chris just sighs to himself.

The games get under way, drinks and conversation are flowing, while both teams compete in a series of minute-to-win-it games. You forget about Chris long enough to have some real fun. Not really one for smack talk, though you love healthy competition, on-the-spot made-up cheers to hype up your teammates is your specialty. Every once in a while, you’ll look up mid-smile or laughter and catch Chris looking and smiling at you. Your expression immediately resolves into a neutral one, and Chris’ heart sinks every time.

“This next one is called ‘Blow Ball’.” Scott announces.

“That’s what she said,” Jaden jokes, and you just shake your head, barely laughing.

“Thank you for that, Jaden. When the timer starts, each player must use only their breath to blow the 73 blue ping pong balls off the pizza tray, while at the same time keep the 3 yellow ping pong balls on the tray. Any questions?”

Jaden raises his hand. “So you’re saying the players have to blow on the blue balls until they get off?” Chris does his classic, boisterous belly laugh, and you’re inclined to smile and sigh to yourself. I forgot how good that sounds.

“You’re exhausting, Jaden. Ok teams, pick your representatives!” After some deliberation, you’re chosen to go for your team, insisting you had the best breath control. You turn from your huddle to see who your opponent is. Of. Fucking. Course.

“May the best player win,” Chris offers his hand to you to shake.

“I intend to,” you reply, slapping his hand away and the group erupts in instigating chorus of “ooo’s”. There’s even a “you gone take that Cap?!” from Mackie. Under normal circumstances, Chris would’ve found your cockiness cute, attractive even. But seeing as you snubbed his apology, have been avoiding him all night, and consistently let your face fall at the sight of him, he couldn’t help but take it personally.

“Alright, alright,” Scott calms everyone down. “On your mark, get set, go!”

The two of you set to work on your trays. Chris struggles to get strong enough breaths out to move the balls thanks to the amount of beers he’s already thrown back and his distracting thoughts. What’s up with this girl? Why won’t she accept my apology? Is she really that full of herself?

Meanwhile, you breezed through your ping pong balls, moving them off the tray with your controlled breath with ease. A couple minutes pass of you going at your trays, your team ridiculously rowdy thanks to the copious amount of alcohol consumed at this point. You’re down to the last few blue ping pong balls on your tray, careful not to blow the yellow ones off.

You look up slightly at Chris who has a little ways to go before catching up to you. You lock eyes with him. He then flicks his eyes down to your tray and notices there’s just a single blue ball between you and victory. He brings his eyes back up to yours, then to your Fenty-glossed lips that are serving him a cocky grin, which turns into a soft ‘O’ as you puff out just enough air to skid the last blue ball off your tray and onto the floor. You win.

You both rise slowly, maintaining strong eye contact, but it’s broken as your team crowds and rough houses you like you’ve just won the Super Bowl. Jaden puts a beer bottle to his mouth like a microphone. “So here we are with the most badass, bodacious Blow Ball player in the land. Tell us, how does it feel to bring your team to victory?” he asks you in his best broadcaster voice.

You patronize him because you’re having fun. “Well, you know, I couldn’t have done it without their support… and my Grammy-award winning singer’s lungs baby!” There’s another round of rowdiness from your team, but looking over at Chris, your smile falters for a different reason. He seems unamused by your antics. What’s his deal? You don’t stay looking at Chris for long, as your team turns you around for more drunken celebration.

“I want to challenge you to a game of beer pong.” Chris pipes at you amongst the loud chatter.

Your back is to him, as you were talking to one of your teammates. You only look over your shoulder as you reply. “Challenge all you want, but I don’t wanna. We won. That’s it. Move on.”

“What, you’re scared cos it’s not in your element you won’t win?” The group quiets down as you turn to face Chris. Studying his face, you come up with nothing, unable to read him. He’s joking, right?

Your mantra about steering clear and playing nice are gone from your tipsy brain. “No, but I’m sure your confidence is coming from the fact that it’s well in your element.” You approach him, sizing him up as he looks down at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Despite your best efforts, you had been watching him tonight. The more drinks he threw back, the more bro-ish he became. Hella loud, overly competitive, with unsolicited coaching. It gave you a headache, but you brushed it off until now.

“Nothing, just that some of us,” motioning to yourself, “spent our college days studying, while others,” poking his chest, “got their frat on. Hence why beer pong is right up your alley.”

“Jokes on you: I didn’t go to college.”

“That explains why you think ‘brown’ and ‘mouth’ rhyme,” you say low enough for only him to hear. So she got the gift... There’s a pang in his chest and it’s evident to you in his eyes. The look he gives pains you and causes you to soften your features.

“So are we gonna do this or what?” says Ansel, mouth full of samosa, cutting the heady moment.

-------------------------------------------------------

The next 30 minutes are a complete blur. There’s yelling, cheering, sneering, and shit talking. Cup after cup of beer is thrown back on your end as Chris whoops your ass at this game, just like you knew he would. By the end of it you are thoroughly drunk, having reached tipsy quite a few games back. His team swamps him in congratulations, but his eyes stay on you, his face still unreadable.

You’re not a sore loser, you swear it, you just couldn’t take the unsaid tension with Chris any longer, and excused yourself. You find a quiet corner to take a breather and an opportunity to text your sister to remind her to pick you up at 10. She says she’ll be there.

“Hey, cute doggie!” You notice the pooch perched on an oversized ottoman and sit next to, not bothering to make it to a chair. You read his tag. Dodger.

“Aaahhh. Chris’ best boy and dysfunctional codependent,” you recall from when the night you met in New York a few weeks ago. “Tell me, is he always this, this… frustrating?” You drawl out. Dodger just responds with a light bark as you scratch behind his ears to his delight.

You enjoy the dog’s company for a few minutes longer until he gives an alerting bark, causing you to look in the direction of the patio that you’d just left. You look up and can see double the Chris approaching. Not even thinking twice, you crawl out of the sitting area and into the next room where most everyone is now sobering up and playing low energy board and card games. You, however, are frantically looking for somewhere to avoid Chris.

Once Chris reaches, he only finds a happily panting Dodger, that he crouches down next to. “She’s seriously avoiding me, huh Bubba?” Dodger barks then licks Chris’ face, as if to say, “Yeah dude, give it up.” How childish.

---------------------------------------------------------

9:55 pm rolls around and you are waiting at the front door for your ride like a kid on the curb of their school. All night has been an exhausting game of cat and mouse between you and Chris, and you appreciate the moment of solace in his foyer. The ringtone for your sister fills the room, and you put your phone to your ear.

“But Lynn, you offered!” Chris hears an anxious voice from his spot in the kitchen and walks in its direction to investigate.

“You didn’t just find that out! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” As he gets closer, he identifies it as your voice. There you are, at his front door, coat and purse, ready to leave the festivities, and scoffs. Last to arrive, first to leave.

“Are you kidding me right now? I don’t need you to send me money! I’ve got money! Money is not the issue here!” Chris raises his brows to your statement. He has no idea who you’re yelling at like that, but it’s not helping your case in his mind.

“Yeah, whatever. Just don’t even breathe in my direction tomorrow.” Stupid sister, and her stupid bowling league. You continue to mumble to yourself as you assess your options. Seeing as you didn’t want to interrupt anyone’s good time, and want to get the hell out of there ASAP, you decide to just take an Uber anyway.

One last try. “Everything ok?” You look up to see Chris, eyes glossy from drunkenness, red from tiredness, nursing a water bottle and leaning on the archway.

“Yeah,” you say, not meeting his eyes, hoping he’d go away. When he didn’t, you moved closer to the door, hoping he’d get the picture then. Steer clear.

“Leaving already?”

“Uh-huh.”  Be neutral.

“We were just about to cue up some karaoke. I’d love to hear what those singer’s lungs could do.” You loved karaoke. But not tonight. Not with him.

“You all enjoy; I’m not in the mood.” Play nice, not friendly.

That’s it, I’ve had it with her cold shoulder! “Wanna know something? I was wrong about you.”

“Is that so?” You brace for another cringey apology.

“Yeah… You’re not an airheaded, wannabe popstar. You’re an arrogant, childish diva.”

You’re taken aback, but not entirely surprised. You can see how he got to this conclusion. What with you icing him all night, taking digs at him, and if he was in that archway long enough, that conversation with your undependable sister could have sounded diva-ish out of context. It’s a complete misjudgment of you, but you can’t help but think you started it. “Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” The two of you meet in the middle of the foyer for your second stand off tonight.

“You wanna know what you are?”

“I get the feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“You’re a fickle, judgmental bro dude.”

“Bro dude?”

“Yeah! A bro dude! You're good at beer pong, you flirt relentlessly, try to get in my head, and get pissed and start calling names the second you realize you’re not getting the time of day.”

“Oh honey you wish I was flirting!”

“Is everything alright in here?” Scott appears in the archway his brother was in just moments before.

“Yeah, I was just going; my Uber’s here.” Your ride share arrived just in time to save you from any further wanton ridicule.

“Uber? I— or someone can drive you home.” Chris says as he grasps your elbow.

“More of your mixed signals. Save the fake concern for someone who’s got the time, cos it ain’t me.” Taking back your arm in a huff, you leave for your waiting ride.

“Woah... what was that about?”

“I… I’m gonna call it a night. I’ll help cleanup in the morning.” Chris kisses his brother goodnight, one last drunken act before retiring for the night. Scott is left in the foyer stunned, as Mackie comes to see what’s holding him up.

“Hey man, where’s Chris and— are they… ya’know?” Mackie gives a suggestive look, bumping Scott with his elbow. “I know you felt that tension, that sexual tension!”

“No, they’re not— They just had some intense words, and she left and he went to bed— alone.”

“What?! What happened?”

“I don’t know but we gotta think of something. They can’t hate each other!”

“Yeah, we’ll think of something… after we sing some karaoke. I’ll be Diana if you’ll be Lionel.”

“No, I’m definitely more Diana, you be Lionel!”

“Fine.”

Part 5

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Together Again

Word Count: 1,451

Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Malia Tate (briefly), Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: angst, a little fluff at the end

Request by @lula132 : Hey! Could I request an imagine where reader and Derek Hale break up and they're sad and stuff, so the rest of the pack try to get them back together, please?

A/N: Requests are still open :)

Masterlist

You laid uncomfortably in bed, shifting your position every few seconds. It was about 3 in the morning, and you had to get to school by 5. You felt lonely and empty, but you tried to hide it. 

You decided to turn on your phone. You had three missed calls from Scott, from only 5 minutes ago. You saw he left you text messages.

(Y/N)! Help!

Stiles! We need you!

You read the texts, worried. You quickly got out of bed, changed your clothes, and left.

------

You looked at the location Scott sent you, it was the old Hale house. You wondered what they could’ve been doing there, but instead, you were too worried that something bad happened. You reached for the door, but right before you opened it, you heard a familiar voice.

“(Y/N)?”, Derek said.

Your heart nearly stopped as you turned to face him.

“W-What are you doing here?”, he asked.

“I, uh got a text from Scott.”, you replied.

“Me too.”, Derek replied, suspicious.

The two of you walked in and saw that both the boys were okay, including Stiles.

“Scott, what’s going on?”, you asked, annoyed.

“Well, you and Derek are both here! Now you can talk to each other.”, Scott said.

You heard Derek sigh. You felt a pang in your chest but ignored it.

Not this again you thought.

“It is 3 AM in the morning. If any of you guys are even a second late to school, I will give you a month’s detention,” you said, crossing your arms.

“What?! You’re not even gonna talk to each other?!”, Stiles exclaimed.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Stiles. People break up all the time.”, you said, annoyed.

“B-But-”, Stiles started.

“No buts. (Y/N), sorry that they’re idiots. You can go back home, there’s nothing to do here.”, Derek said.

“Bye. And see you both in class tomorrow.”, you said to Stiles and Scott before leaving.

You took a deep breath before sitting in your car. There was no chance you were gonna go back to sleep. Instead, you went home and prepared for the day.

-----

You walked into your classroom, to see your entire class there, except Scott and Stiles.

You walked over to Malia. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?”, you asked.

“I don’t know.”, she shrugged.

“Well, they have 59 seconds to get here before they get a month of detention.”

“Oh. Did they try to get you and my cousin back together?”, she asked.

“So you know.”, you replied.

“They’ve been planning it for some time. And, Derek is miserable without you. He might not admit it, but he is. And so are you.”, Malia said.

You sighed, before walking back to your desk. Scott and Stiles had 15 seconds to get there.

“We’re here!”, Scott yelled as the two of them ran into the room.

“We’re on time!”, Stiles said, out of breath.

“Sit down.”, you sighed.

Then, you began teaching.

------

“Scott, Stiles, stay back a minute.”, you said, after the class was released.

They both gloomily walked to your table.

“You guys need to stop this. It’s getting ridiculous,” you said.

“Okay, but-”, Stiles started.

“No buts. One day you guys are gonna be in serious trouble, a-and I’m not gonna believe you. You’ve pulled this too many times.”, you said.

“(Y/N), stop pretending that you don’t miss him. We all know you do. We can see it. And he misses you too. He just doesn’t wanna admit it.” Scott said.

“Don’t kid yourself. We were together, and then we broke up. It happens.”, you gave them a sad smile.

“Okay.”, they both replied, looking down.

“Thank you. And, go home and get some rest.”, you told them.

“You’re gonna let us go?”, Stiles asked.

“Both of you will go home, nowhere else. I’ll tell your teachers you weren’t feeling well.”, you said.

“Really? Thanks, (Y/N)!”, Scott exclaimed.

“School hours, boys.”, you reminded them.

“Right. Sorry, Ms.(Y/L/N).”, they both said before leaving.

You took a breath before moving on for the rest of your day.

------

It was nearly 6. You stayed back to grade some papers. You were finally done and you started making your way to your car. You then realized you had a flat tire, and you left your keys inside.

You sighed before heading back into the school. It was about to start raining and you didn’t wanna be out in the cold. 

You called for a replacement tire. You tried to open the door to the school, but it wouldn’t open. Then, you realized it was locked from the outside, and you were locked outside.

------

“Tell me again, why are we going to the school right now?”, Derek asked, annoyed.

“Stiles forgot his backpack.”, Scott answered.

“And you can’t take your jeep?”, Derek said, crossing his arms.

“It can’t drive in this weather.”

“I swear, is this is another attempt with (Y/N), I’ll murder you both.”, Derek said.

“It’s not! We promise. Besides, it’s 6. (Y/N)’s already home.”, Stiles said, before sitting back in Derek’s car.

“Right.”, Derek said, before driving off.

------

You waited and waited before getting a call saying that the roads are packed, and there was no way they could get it to you within the hour.

You stood there, shivering. It started raining harder.

------

Derek pulled up to the school, before noticing you, sitting on the ground outside, shivering.

“I told you guys, no more pranks.”, he said angrily, motioning to you.

“Derek, we swear, it wasn’t us. I-I don’t know why (Y/N)’s  here.”, Stiles said.

He listened to Stiles’ heartbeat, before realizing that he wasn’t lying.

“Go get your backpack.”, he said. He exited the car, running to you.

------

“(Y/N)!”, you heard Derek call. 

You got confused and got up.

“Derek, what are you doing here?”, you asked.

“A-Are you okay?”, he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said.

“What were you doing here in the first place?”, you asked.

“Stiles forgot his backpack.”, Derek said.

You sighed. 

“The school’s locked, Derek.”, you said.

You gave Derek a frustrated look. Now, you were both soaking wet and shivering.

“(Y/N), oh hey.”, Stiles said as the two of them walked to you and Derek.

“I’ve had enough of this. I told you guys already! Just leave it! Maybe we had something before, but it’s gone now! Understand what I’m saying! We are not getting back together. Stop trying.”, you yelled at them.

You couldn’t stand to look at Derek, not when you were about to cry.

“(Y/N), w-we didn’t set this up, I promise. W-We didn’t know you were here.”, Scott said.

You rubbed your head before looking down.

“Just go. I have to wait for my tire replacement.”, you said, your voice low.

“I’ll drop you home. Scott and Stiles are gonna wait right here, for your tire.”, Derek said, giving both of them a death stare.

They both nodded.

“Okay.”, you replied, your voice low.

You got into Derek’s car and drove off.

-------

Derek pulled up to your house.

“I can’t just leave you like this. You’re soaking wet and it’s basically my fault. Just come in for a few minutes.”, you said.

Derek agreed as the two of you walked in.

-----

You felt the tension between you and Derek. You gave him a towel and some clothes he left at your place.

“(Y/N).”, he said.

“Yeah,” you replied.

He looked down.

“Did you, uh, did you mean what you said before? At the school?” he asked.

“Yes. No. I-I don’t know.” you said.

“Oh.”, he replied.

“Derek.”, you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You looked down.

He walked to you, holding your hands up.

“I-I still love you.”, you whispered. 

“I still love you too.”, he said, holding your face in his hands.

“I-I thought you didn’t want me back.”, you said, your voice low.

“And I thought you hated me.”, Derek replied.

“I could never hate you.”, you said.

He wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’m sorry.”, he said.

“Don’t be. You were doing what you thought was right.”, you gave him a small smile.

“And I still hurt you. I always hurt you.”

“No, you don’t, Derek. You care about you. You protect me. You could never hurt me.”

“I missed you so much.”, he admitted.

“I missed you too. I haven’t been able to sleep.”, you said.

“Me neither.”, you both chuckled softly.

“(Y/N), will you take me back?”, he asked.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you pressed your lips against his.

“Does that answer your question?”, you looked up, smiling at him.

He smiled before kissing you again.