#struggling with whether or not to call scott

[chasing-chimeras]

.

[kuroko-no-cuties]

How Kuroko and Akashi would react to their girlfriend calling them a short king 👑

AKASHI…

Would completely freeze at his desk. He’d slowly turn his thankfully monochromatic maroon gaze towards you before uttering a slightly amused/offended…

“Pardon me?”

You struggle to hold in a snicker as you reiterate your previous sentence. “I said, ‘Don’t overwork yourself My Short King. You should take a break.’”

His eyebrow twitches and you’re not entirely sure what that means. Even though Bokushi isn’t in command any longer, normal Akashi can still be rather unpredictable when he wants to be. That’s why you’re pretty dumbfounded once your normally composed and calm Akashi let’s out a loud “PFFT!” and presses a fist to his mouth to fight the growing smile on his lips.

“You’re rather remarkable darling…I’m…not quite sure how to respond to that…” to which you bat your eyelashes and reply, “Well how about by taking a break an spending some time with your darling?”

He snickers once more (wow twice in one setting, what a giggly boy he is today) and stands up from his desk to take you by the hand.

“So be it then.”

Now, Akashi Seijuro is…Akashi Seijuro. He’s not gonna let some little crack his girlfriend made about his height get to him. He will, however, make a conscious decision to straighten his back and hold his head high around you, just to make it clear who is actually the short one in this relationship.

KUROKO…

Would look at you confused but immediately see that you’re trying to tease him and just pretend he didn’t hear you.

You poke his cheek and snicker, “Oi, I know you heard me Tetsu.”~

“…”

“Come on, My Short King, answer the question. Where do you wanna go to ea-“

“Would you mind not calling me that. Please.”

He replies in his usual soft tone as he keeps his gaze focused on the novel in his hands. You bite you lip as you attempt (and fail) at holding in a snort. You can’t really tell if he’s just refusing to play along with your little game or if he’s genuinely upset that you made a crack about his height. You mull over whether you want to take it easy in him or not. You decide to end the short jokes, but concluded that one last little teasing nudge wouldn’t hurt. You throw your arms around him and kiss his temple. “Aww sorry Tetsu-kun. I didn’t mean to make my little blueberry angy~” you coo in a baby voice while nuzzling his cheek.

Kuroko bristled from underneath your arms. If there was one thing that ruffled his feathers, it was being treated like a child. He experienced more than a fair share of embarrassment at getting demeaning head pats from Murasakibara that one time at the street game. And let’s not even talk about how “Dad” picked him up like a toddler in front of his whole team. So yeah…jokes about his stature aren’t exactly his favorite things. He knows you’re just messing with him and trying to have some fun so he decided not to take it too seriously- however that doesn’t mean he’s gonna let you off the hook Scott free.

He closes his book and slowly stands from his desk and you mistakenly take it as a sign to continue on to the topic of food.

“Ah great! So where do you wanna go? I was think about this cute new cafe that ju- kya!”

And just like that the phantom sixth man has you pinned against the wall. His hands in either side of your head. He leans in, slowly to emphasize the height advantage he actually has on you, while biting back a smile at the flustered look on your face.

“Sorry, but who exactly is the short one in this relationship?” He whispers, his baby blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Uhh…I…”

You’re at a lost for words. Did your invisible simple vanilla, blue boy Tetsu seriously just kabedon you? And size you up? Who is this kid?

After seeing you’re dumbfounded expression, Kuroko takes it that you’ve learned your lesson. He lets out a soft snort as he gently reaches for your hand and pulls you along out the door.

“Sorry, I decided to get you back but maybe I went a little too far. Anyway, let’s go to that cute cafe you mentioned, Shorty.”

….no seriously….who IS this kid?!

[jayflying]

I think people should be more insane about the narrative potential of Empires season 1 happening immediately post-Last Life, actually.

Now obviously there's the Flower Husbands reincarnation romance from Third Life, that's just canon.

But does Scott remember that this isn't his first time struggling against the forces of corruption? And does his self-sacrificing streak carry over between lives for a reason?

Does the Ocean Queen still remember, deep down, that she was once called Queen of Shadows?

Does King Joel of Mezalea remember how much blood is on his hands? How much of that blood is his wife's?

Does Farmer Queen Pearl choose to be peaceful because she remembers how little the path of violence brought her?

Does Jimmy the Codfather remember how poorly it went the last time he went to war against a red-bannered king? Does he recognize that he is still a harbinger of conflict, whether he wants to be or not?

Do any of them remember? Do any of them understand that they remember, understand why they have these memories and feelings and impressions of each other that don't seem to come from their own lives?

[ceratedfish24]

raises mic 2 u. snowangel headcanons?

(I have one that i'll share: their relationship p much kicked off in limited life when, one night, skizz couldn't sleep, so went out to the beach to get some air. coincidentally there was a certain fish in the water... Scott made and carved an intricate netherite sword for skizz as an apology for the boogey kill. it couldn't exactly be used on the LiL server (op + had some Old Galactic enchants like loyalty, which is non-applicable on the Life servers), but it carried over into every other server skizz joined. with that rather over-the-top gift, the conversation... spiralled. and ended with them the next morning making cookies and being gay)

That is SO cute and they ABSOLUTELY bake together. Skizz can’t follow a recipe he doesn’t make every other day to save his life. Scott doesn’t need a recipe. He knows most basic recipes by heart.

My personal headcanons?

Scott is REALLY good at hiding that something’s bothering him, but Skizz can read him like a book. Skizz might not be the most observant person, but his people skills are like no other. Scott used to be surprised and dismissive whenever Skizz called him out on it, but now he just collapses into Skizz’s arms, knowing that there’s no point in hiding that something, no matter how small, is upsetting him.

Skizz has mentioned that he could fall asleep in Scott’s arms, and so I absolutely headcanon that, when Skizz can’t fall asleep, he lays his head in Scott’s lap and asks Scott to sing for him. Scott will drop anything and everything to do this whenever asked.

Scott bought Skizz a whole new wardrobe. Dragged him to every store and made him try on so many clothes. Skizz was just happy to be there. He struck over exaggerated poses every time he showed Scott a new outfit. Scott clapped and cheered and hummed and hawed the whole time.

Scott and Skizz have completely different family favorite dishes. Sharing them with one another is a very important part of their relationship. Skizz comes from a world of meats and roasted vegetables and biscuits and gravy. Scott comes from a world of various pastas and steamed vegetables and different ways of serving rice. They like their own food, but they really love the other’s food, and cooking for each other and with each other is always the highlight of their day.

Scott loves to go all out for the holidays. Whether it’s Halloween, Christmas, Valentines, New Years, whatever, he goes all out. Skizz isn’t the type of guy who’s self motivated to put up decorations, but he does enjoy the decorations and putting work into something that makes his hardworking sweetheart of a partner so happy.

Skizz and Scott are both very social people. They’re the ones who put on holiday parties and Friendsgiving every year. Most couples would stress out about this and divide tasks unevenly and get frustrated, but I genuinely don’t think Skizz and Scott would struggle with this. With their experience, Skizz would immediately have a prioritized list of everything that needs to get done, Scott has a vision about how he thinks it should look, Skizz inherently trusts Scott’s vision and helps Scott get everything he needs, and then Skizz and Scott work together to make it all happen and it’s a hit every time. Scott is so grateful not to have to take complete charge of every event he wants to put on, and Skizz is so grateful to have someone with such an artistic mind grace his life like this.

Scott is a book lover, so Skizz built him a beautiful old-fashion style bookshelf. Skizz swears that Scott loves the bookshelf more than he loves Skizz.

These two for SURE go for walks. They’ll walk anywhere. They love to walk through parks. They love to walk on boardwalks. They love to window shop. It’s one of their favorite ways to wind down together.

They share a scarf when it’s cold. Skizz often forgets that they are sharing a scarf and will try to wander away or bend down. Scott is offended every time.

Skizz is not the type of guy to start a fight when it really matters. When it comes down to it, Skizz is a professional at de-escalating a situation and handling it maturely. In a game, though? Skizz will defend Scott’s honor to no end, die about it, and dramatically fall over with declarations of loyalty and peace with his decisions.

Scott isn’t the type of guy to start a fight either. He is the type of guy to get you fired if you insult his man badly enough, regardless of whether or not your career is relevant to the offense you’re being fired for. Nobody ever knows that it’s him who does it. Not even Skizz realizes this is happening. Scott didn’t start this feud, but he will end it and in one single move.

Skizz isn’t usually a sweets guy, but Scott is a “what if we got a sweet little treat🥺” guy, and Skizz gives in every single time.

Scott is a passenger prince, and Skizz willingly sets up the passenger seat with blankets, snacks, drinks, and stuff to do. Scott never expects it, and he’s grateful every time.

Scott is a clean freak. Skizz isn’t a dirty person, but he’s also not a clean freak. It doesn’t bother Skizz, and Scott uses it as an excuse to have something to do when he’s overwhelmed and Skizz isn’t home.

Skizz took Scott to a carnival, and it was the first time Scott had ever been on a ferris wheel. He’s not particularly afraid of heights. He just has never had much a reason to go on one. It seems like such a two or more people activity, and Scott just never had someone else want to go. He doesn’t realize that people aren’t exaggerating how romantic it can be until he’s up at the top with Skizz’s arms wrapped around him.

Their first kiss happened because Skizz offhandedly said something that made Scott laugh, and Skizz unconsciously zeroed in on the sound of Scott’s laugh and kissed him without even thinking about it. The sound of Scott’s laugh and the mirth in his eyes was just too overwhelming for Skizz. He pulled back immediately afterwards, but Scott wouldn’t let him go.

I know they’re the same height, but Skizz is slightly taller to me.

Skizz will kiss Scott ANYWHERE. Scott’s hands are a common place, but anywhere that is Scott and that is available in the moment is free game to Skizz.

Skizz didn’t know how to dance before he got with Scott, and now they dance everyday, even if it’s just swaying while one of them hums with a frozen lasagna in the oven.

Skizz loves cheesy mugs, and Scott keeps indulging him. They have a dedicated mug cabinet. Everyone else keeps calling them crazy, but Scott insists that no one can talk about his boyfriend like that.

Skizz was not a jewelry guy before he met Scott. Scott gifts Skizz so much jewelry, and Skizz can’t deny that Scott knows what he’s doing. That man has taste. Every piece so naturally enhances Skizz’s style, and, best of all, they always remind him of Scott, wherever he goes. He got his ears re-pierced for Scott.

Scott is a ring gay irl (we are KIN), and I completely headcanon that with his character. Skizz takes notice of the rings he wears the most often and buys him so many more. Every one that Skizz buys him is Scott’s favorite. Skizz knows Scott’s ring size per finger by heart. This information will be very useful when Skizz wants to propose.

Also, with the amount of work Scott does everyday, Skizz totally bought him a gorgeous blue pen with Scott’s name engraved on it. The ink shimmers without glittering. It’s just enough dramatic flair. Scott has not used a different pen since Skizz gave this to him.

Skizz is a complete sports head. Scott can’t name even one single sport, but he will be damned if he doesn’t support Skizz’s interests. He makes so much food every time Impulse comes over to watch a game. He buys tickets to see local games. He has NO idea what’s going on, but, if it’s men’s sports, he’ll point at the player he thinks is the hottest. Skizz will then, playfully, blow up about why Skizz himself is the hottest, thank you very much, and lather Scott’s face with kisses that tickle. Scott may not know sports, but he does educate himself a little on Skizz’s favorite teams and their players and history. He’s nothing if not supportive.

They’re not a “I need to bite you” couple, but Scott is a “I need to feel you” partner. He’ll sporadically and frantically grab onto Skizz throughout the day. It’s his dose of exercising his right, as Skizz’s boyfriend, to have casual touch with Skizz without it seeming weird. At first, Skizz would stop what he’s doing or saying whenever it happened and ask Scott if he’s okay. Scott’s response is to stare into space for several seconds and then return to what he’s doing. Now, Skizz doesn’t so much as bat an eye when this happens. If anyone asks why Scott does it, Skizz will say that Scott has magic powers and is “analyzing my genetics to figure out how I’m so sexy”. Scott will say “cause I can and no one thinks it’s that strange. Could you imagine if you did it to Skizz? Weird. I’d have to kill you.”

Skizz is a sitcoms guy. Scott is a musicals guy. This does not stop them from getting entirely too invested in the other’s preferred form of media.

Scott loves to take pictures of Skizz, but he always forgets to take pictures of himself. He’s very subtle about it. His camera roll is full of pictures of Skizz, both photogenic ones and not. When Skizz is gone at night, whether working late or on a trip, and Scott can’t sleep, Scott scrolls through his favorite pictures of Skizz.

Skizz tends to be an “in the moment” guy, but, when Scott is particularly photogenic and in amazing lighting, Skizz yells “STAY RIGHT THERE. DON’T MOVE. DON’T CHANGE YOUR EXPRESSION.” Scott will freeze, but his face will do that thing he does where he’s smiling like everything’s okay, but his eyes are wide and unsure and looking around frantically. Skizz will then spend over five minutes trying to find his phone, which is in his pocket the whole time.

Skizz gets frustrated when he has bad days. He sighs a lot and gets more pessimistic than normal and gets angry about little things. Scott’s response is to cup his face press his forehead head to Skizz’s and take deep breaths until Skizz leans into him. Then, they talk about Skizz’s day.

Scott gets teary eyed and anxious on his bad days. He frets about things he usually doesn’t, and he over analyzes every little interaction he has with everybody. He bites his nails, does chores, and grabs onto Skizz more often. When Skizz starts seeing these behaviors, he hugs Scott really tight for several seconds and then softens the hug as a way of releasing all the tension in Scott’s body. Scott melts every time, and he usually falls asleep ten minutes later, exhausted from all that stress.

Scott’s hair is naturally blue. Skizz didn’t know this until he wanted to dye his own hair the same shade just to get a reaction out of Scott. When he couldn’t find Scott’s hair dye, he confronted him about it like a kid who just found out that their parents put the cookie jar on a shelf they can’t reach. Scott laughed so hard.

Skizz is an outdoors person. Scott is not. Scott does it anyway, because you can’t keep your outdoor dog (Skizz) inside all day. It’s just not healthy. He tries to release bugs back into the wild, but he screams every time they move. It always makes Skizz laugh.

Scott has a playlist for absolutely everything. He has never played his Skizz💙 playlist in front of Skizz. He has absolutely played it in front of Cleo, Joel, Gem, Lizzie, and Martyn to the point where they are so sick of it. They unwillingly know every song on that damn list. Joel and Martyn are working together to play it in front of Skizz. It will never work.

Y’all, Skizz has angel wings and Scott has snow owl wings from Empires SMP Season 1. They can preen each other. Their bed is specifically made for people with wings. Also, both of their wings come from divine sources. I’m sure there’s some kind of holy oil or something that Scott washes his wings with once a week that Skizz knows nothing about. Skizz’s wings are so messy. Scott is appalled. He has to teach Skizz proper wing care.

Thank you for reading my ramble!! I wrote a lot because I didn’t want to give you like three if you were expecting more, but then I couldn’t stop💙🩵

[awkward-walking-potato]

How would Kurt and Scott react to an s/o who is the definiton of sunshine aura. Someone very approchable and friendly, very empathetic and creating space where others feel heard and understood. Constantly praising friends and family to give confidence and know how to make anyone happy with their acts of kindness. I feel like these two need this kind of s/o the most

Here are some headcanons for how Kurt and Scott would react to having an S/O with a "sunshine aura":

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

1. From the moment Kurt meets you, he's drawn to your warmth and positivity. Your sunshine aura is like a magnet for his kind heart. He finds himself naturally gravitating toward you, eager to bask in the comfort and joy you radiate.

2. Kurt is in constant awe of how effortlessly you make everyone around you feel seen and valued. He often watches you interact with others, a soft smile on his face as he marvels at how you lift people’s spirits with just a few words or a kind gesture.

3.Your empathy and kindness make Kurt feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life. Whenever he feels down or insecure, your encouraging words and unwavering support help him feel better about himself. He deeply appreciates how you always know exactly what to say to make him feel loved and cherished.

4. Kurt loves to playfully call you his “little sunshine” or “Sonnenschein” in German. He’ll often joke that you could brighten even the darkest corners of the mansion just by walking through them. Your positivity is infectious, and he can't help but be in a good mood when you're around.

5. Inspired by your kindness, Kurt often plans romantic surprises for you. Whether it’s teleporting you to a beautiful, secluded spot for a picnic or writing you sweet, heartfelt notes, he loves finding ways to show you just how much he appreciates your sunshine aura and the happiness you bring into his life.

6. While Kurt adores your empathetic nature, he’s also aware of how much you give to others. He makes it a point to ensure you’re not overextending yourself or neglecting your own needs. He’s always there to remind you that it’s okay to take a break and let others take care of you for a change.

7. Your constant praise and confidence-boosting for others inspire Kurt to be more open and generous with his own compliments. He starts to express his appreciation for his friends and teammates more often, knowing how much it means to them because of how much your words mean to him.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

1. Scott is immediately impressed by your ability to connect with everyone you meet. As someone who sometimes struggles with opening up, he admires how effortlessly you make others feel comfortable and understood. He sees you as a crucial emotional anchor in the team, someone who balances out the intensity of their missions with genuine care and compassion.

2. Scott often feels the weight of leadership and responsibility, but your presence is a constant source of relief for him. Your sunshine aura helps ground him when he’s stressed or overwhelmed, reminding him that there’s more to life than just duty and responsibility. He finds peace and relaxation in your company, something he doesn’t take for granted.

3. Scott has always been hard on himself, but your consistent praise and belief in his abilities help him see himself in a better light. Your words of encouragement give him the confidence he sometimes lacks, and he often reflects on your affirmations during tough moments, knowing that you see the good in him.

4. While Scott may not always be the most outwardly affectionate, he shows his appreciation for you in more subtle ways. He’ll make sure your favorite snacks are always stocked, leave a cup of coffee on your desk in the morning, or give you a reassuring squeeze of the hand when you’re comforting others, silently letting you know that he admires and loves you for who you are.

5. Scott is very protective of you, especially because of your empathetic nature. He worries about you taking on too much of others' burdens and makes it a point to check in with you regularly. He’ll gently remind you to take care of yourself and is always ready to step in if he feels like you’re giving too much of yourself without receiving enough in return.

6. Scott often thinks about how lucky he is to have you in his life. He’s not the best with words when it comes to expressing his feelings, but he tries to show his gratitude through his actions. Whether it’s spending quiet time together, making sure you know he’s there for you, or supporting your endeavors, Scott makes sure you know how much he values your light in his life.

7. Your positivity and kindness bring out a softer, more playful side of Scott that most people don’t get to see. When you’re alone together, he lets down his guard, sharing laughs and lighter moments that contrast with his usually serious demeanor. Your presence makes him feel comfortable enough to let go of his worries and just enjoy the moment.

[undercoveravenger]

Motivators

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x Scientist!Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “okay for the spooky request could you write Isaac lahey x scientist reader who doesn’t believe in the supernatural but they are hunting a ghost and reader and Isaac make a bet where if they do find the ghost reader owes Isaac a kiss or something”

A/N: This is the third fic in the 2023 Spooky Month event! The next post will release on Tuesday, October 24th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

While your best friend Scott McCall and his pack were no strangers to your lab, you still found yourself a bit on edge with Scott’s beta, Isaac. You had known of him before he was turned, and he had seemed nice enough the few times you had interacted with him, but there had always seemed to be something off, even after Scott had told you the truth about his friends. You weren’t sure exactly why Isaac made you so uneasy, but the weight of his eyes, whether glowing their infamous werewolf gold or his pretty every-day blue, was ever present and unreadable. 

Even now, with the rest of the pack off investigating the most recent victim of a vengeful spirit, Isaac lingered, perched on one of the spare lab tables pushed against the wall and watching you intently. 

“You didn’t have to wait here,” you say, ardently refusing to look at him, studying the strange glowing sample they’d brought you through the viewing lens of your microscope. “You heard Scott- He thinks he’s got a lead. You could’ve gone with him to check it out.”

A soft huff escapes Isaac and you can hear him shift behind you, moving from his seat on the opposite table to come lean against the one you’re working at. “No,” he says quietly, “I needed to be here.” He’s silent for a minute and you almost think to press him further when he continues, “I know you don’t need me to be here, but I need to be.” He clears his throat awkwardly when you look up at him, but he presses on, in spite of the thick blush clouding his cheeks. “I worry about you a lot when I’m not around you, y’know? Not just that you’re just a human, but that you’re you.”

You studied Isaac for a long moment, a sort of self-satisfied amusement creeping through you as he fidgets under your gaze, clearly having said more than he meant to and exposing his emotions in the process. 

“You really think that you’re going to catch this ghost?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him. 

He nodded, grinning shyly, “Yeah. With you and Scott working together to find it? No way we don’t.”

Whenever you’d caught Isaac looking at you in the past, the look in his eyes was always intense, but he was unreadable in the same way that the old Latin tombs that Allison had swiped from her family’s archives for you had been. But in the same way you had learned to decipher those ancient books, you were starting to see the meaning behind those lingering stares and Isaac’s looming presence. He’d never seemed malicious to you, not even before he’d joined Scott’s pack, but now you could see that determined distance for what it was.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your sample, but couldn’t stop the edge of your lips from quirking up as you spoke. “You find it and I owe you a kiss.”

While you were no longer looking at him, you could pick out the exact moment Isaac realized what you’d said since you could hear his sneakers squeak against the floor as he struggled to catch himself from falling. “I- I, uh, I-” he stammered and you could practically hear how flustered he was. “I’m- I’m gonna go call Scott and see if his lead panned out. Y’know, we uh, we really need to get rid of this ghost thing before it hurts someone else. We should- We should really do everything we can to catch it as soon as possible, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he hurried out of the room, and you laughed even harder when you were able to pick up the excited whoops echoing in from outside of your lab from Isaac and Scott over the phone line.

[thislovintime]

Screenshot from the My Generation interview.

Seems apt to revisit these words on November 5, 2024...

“Peter, My name is Scott and I'm 37 years old. I was wondering, as you look back on your experience in the 1960's, how much of the political and social ideas of the youth movement and counter culture are still valid today and whether or not you feel the same about those ideas now as you did back then. Scott” “Dear Scott, I won't go nearly so far as to say that everything that came up in the 60's was valid, but as far as I'm concerned, the 60's were to what will come as Greece was to democracy. Remember that in the 60's the political officeholders had lost all touch with the needs of the nation…kind of like the Bush administration now. Back then the voice of the establishment, Life magazine, was discovered to have doctored photos falsely indicating that LSD caused chromosomal damage. That proved what we (then) kids already knew: that those at the top preached fair play and honesty, but had no more need to honor those concepts than what would give them the next dollar without too much trouble. We saw perfectly clearly that we were on our own, that no one in authority cared about us. Now, like any bunch of kids left to their own devices, some, many, went off the rails. Every false step by somebody walking around under the cloak of the liberal hippy 60's was used as a pretext for dissing the entire generation. Those of us who were truly interested in liberty, fraternity and equality, however, knew we were onto something good and real. What had been called democracy was, and to some extent still is, a pretext for wrapping the will of the greedy and aggressive in a mantle of public acquiescence. Now, the business of wresting power away from those who make a specialty of wielding it will be a long and protracted struggle, with a lot of setbacks along the way. The outlines of the new style of governance are only dimly perceivable, and won't become clear for a long time to come. In the meantime, our job is to practice the principles of fairness and service to the extent possible. One thing is clear: there is a much higher joy in service than there is in acquisition of wealth. (Remember that it isn't money that's the root of all evil, it's the love of money.) Hanging together in brother - and sisterhood is so happy-making you want to sing right out loud. Yeah, I feel the same about those ideas as I did then…in case you couldn't tell. heheheh, Peter” - Ask Peter Tork, 2008

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Ice Pick

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed | Fury

Prompt: You haven’t seen Isaac since that night and it’s been effecting you more than you care to admit. However, after finding out Derek is turning teenagers, you have more dangerous things to worry about.

a/n: So i don’t think there’s gonna be a lot of issac and y/n in this chapter :(( but i hope you guys still find it enjoyable! I really love writing her friendship between Scott and Stiles. I know we've seen a lot of the bond between Stiles and y/n so im excited to add more to the bond of Scott and y/n this time!

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

It’s been a little while since that night on the full moon, you haven’t seen Isaac or Derek so you couldn’t even ask the so called ‘sour wolf’ on whether Isaac was okay or not. You finally told Scott about what happened on the field that day and it was nice for you two just to talk about everything. Everything ended up including how you felt about Isaac, which was definitely embarrassing to come clean about. You still remember the slight tear that had traveled down your face as Scott held your hand. Scott had made it clear that everything was okay and when you saw Isaac again, you would be able to talk to him about everything for real.

To say you dwelled on it the last few days would be an understatement, it plagued your mind every second of everyday. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he mad at you?

You grumbled in frustration, giving your cheeks slight taps, you could worry some more later. Right now, you would just let yourself be entertained by Allison dominating Scott at the rock climb.

“For a werewolf, he’s really bad at this,” you said, looking at Stiles.

He laughed, “Yeah, at this rate, I could beat him.”

“Okay, don’t get too ahead of yourself, you can’t even beat me.” Stiles looked at you, “Uh yeah, that’s because you cheat,” he sassed back.

“How do you cheat at rock climb,” you exclaimed.

Stiles folded his arms, “You just do,” by now Scott had joined the two of you along with Allison, “Alright you two, chill out.” You pointed at Stiles accusingly, “He started it!” The boy gasped in horror as if the accusation had pierced him but before he could make a comeback, Coach had already called for him.

“Alright, next two! Stilinski, Erica, let’s go!”

Your expression dropped, Erica was called. The poor girl was never good at these types of things, not to mention, you could tell she struggled with being in front of other people. It didn’t help that half the school took any opportunity to laugh at her. In the end, you did truly feel bad for her, you tried to reach out but every try was a failure. She would get these big ‘deer stuck in headlights’ eyes and stutter off an apology before escaping through to the nearest door.

Your attention went to the two of them as they started to make their way up the wall. Stiles surprisingly made his way up and down pretty fast, he whipped around when he hit the ground to send you a smug grin. Erica on the other hand, barely made it off the ground before she had started to hyperventilate.

“Erica, you dizzy? Is it vertigo?” You gave Coach a confused look at the suggestion and you weren’t the only one.

“Vertigo’s a dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear. She’s just freaking out.” Lydia explained with a roll of her eyes. Everyone continued to look up at Erica.

“I’m fine,” she called out.

“Coach, maybe it’s not safe,” Allison voiced her concern, “you know she’s epileptic.” Coach’s head snapped towards her in shock, “Why doesn’t anybody tell me this stuff?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “It would be in her file.” He waved you off before going back to Erica.

“Erica, you’re fine. Just kick off from the wall,” he explained slowly, “there’s a mat to catch you.” She nodded ever so slightly before slowly separating from the wall and gliding down towards the mat. Coach supported her weight as she regained her balance. “You’re alright, shake it off,” he said lightly. You had reached out to take her hand but she had already started making her way through the crowd. You could tell she was embarrassed. How could she not be? Half the class was chuckling at her misfortune like it was some kind of comedy show. Walking up to Scott, your eyes kept burning into her back, making sure she was physically okay.

“They’re all such jackasses,” you remarked. Scott’s attention was now on you, he agreed before his shoulders dropped in concern.

Soon enough class was over, you were in the girl’s locker room when you felt your eyes glow. You hid your face from the rest of the girls but Allison must have seen because her hand was on your shoulder in a second, “Y/N what’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you shrugged her hand off slightly. “I don’t know, probably nothing, I still haven’t really learned to control it,” you suggested. It convinced the dark haired girl enough because she turned back to her gym locker to continue what she was previously doing. You did as well, opening your locker you looked in the small mirror you had attached to the door. Examining your face slightly, your eyes glowed once more, this time something in your mind snapped. You flung your body around, staring at the door.

“Erica.”

Allison looked at you once more, “What?” She questioned. She never got an answer, you had already sprinted out the door. Allison called for you, following you down the hallway.

“Scott!” You screamed noticing his figure just barely before he disappeared into the dark gym. You followed him, feet slamming heavily on the gym floor. The sound of others rushing towards you guys could be heard as Scott caught Erica just before she hit the ground and you reached her as well, supporting her weight to the best of your ability. She had starting seizing, shaking uncontrollably in Scott’s arms.

“Set her on the ground,” you urged, Scott nodded and hurriedly placed her on the floor as gentle as he could. By now others had joined you, including Allison and Stiles both with worried expressions. “Put her on her side. Put her on her side,” Allison repeated. She looked at both of you, “How’d you guys know?”

The two of you made eye contact both shrugging, “I just felt it,” Scott said and you nodded.

~

“Boyd.”

It was the next day, in the cafeteria and right now your time was being occupied by Stiles. He had dragged you with him to talk to Boyd, another kid in your class who worked at the ice rink. Currently said spastic boy was trying to get the keys to the rink from Boyd. However, things weren’t going as planned.

“You got the keys?” Stiles asked his body turned half away facing towards the windows of the cafeteria. Boyd stuck his hand out keys dangling making Stiles smile. He grasped the keys from the boy’s hand but to no avail Boyd didn’t release his grip. Confused Stiles tugged again. No progress.

“This isn’t a favor. It’s a transaction,” Boyd reminded.

“Right, yeah,” Stiles replied retrieving his wallet from his pocket, “Absolutely,” he placed a twenty dollar bill on the table. Boyd gave nothing but an unimpressed look, “I said fifty.”

“Really-,” stuttered back Stiles, “I remember twenty. I don’t know. I have a really good verbal memory. And I remember twenty. I remember that distinctive ‘twa’ sound. Twa-enty.” Boyd cut him off, “I said fifty,” he said firmly.

“With a ‘fa’ sound. Hear the difference? If you can’t, I can demonstrate some other words with the ‘fa’ sound.”

Your head rolled from side to side, “Yes trust me, he remembers,” you concluded with annoyance. You didn’t even care if you actually got the keys or not. You didn’t even want to go, well not now, you did before. Before Stiles had invited Lydia at least. You didn’t mind the red haired girl, or you didn’t hate her that is, but Scott had also invited Allison before hand. Originally, it was just meant to be your four meaning Stiles and you were gonna be the other pair since no doubt Allison and Scott were gonna have one another’s attention. Now that Lydia was invited, you were for sure gonna be the one left out. You weren’t angry at either of the boys or girls, just a little bummed that one of your favorite activities was now going to cause you to be an awkward fifth wheel.

Stiles blinked rapidly, “No, no, no. I think I’m recalling it now. Maybe I just got it confused with forty.” He slowly placed another twenty on the table. You could practically feel your eyes roll into the back of your head ‘this was getting to be too idiotic’ you thought. Boyd stayed silence, slowly putting a Dorito in his mouth causing you to snort. Boyd smirked pushing the bag towards you and you gladly took one. Giving him a slight nod, you leaned back in your chair to finish watching the train wreck in front of you. Stiles let out a defeated huff, “Come on, man, have you seen the piece of crap Jeep that I drive?”

“Have you seen the piece of crap bus that I take,” Boyd countered effortlessly.

You reached into your bag and quickly grabbed a ten dollar bill from the side pocket, “Here, I’m growing bored of this back and forth your trying to pull with him,” you said to Stiles sliding the cash across the table. Boyd smiled wide, reaching out once more keys in hand, this time Stiles needed no effort to take them from his hand. Cocking an eyebrow over at you he stood from his seat, “What’s your problem?”

“Sorry, I’m not exactly excited to be a fifth wheel,” you snarked before looking back at Boyd, “Thank you, you’re the best. Sorry about him.” The boy acknowledged your statement before returning to his act of eating.

“What do you mean ‘fifth wheel’,” Stiles questioned confused. You scoffed at him, “I mean exactly what I said,” you gestured your hand back towards your usual table, “you invited Lydia. Scott, Allison, Lydia, you,” you counted on your hand then motioned to yourself, “Fifth wheel.”

He mocked your scoff, “Oh, please, you’re not going to be a fifth wheel.” He wrapped his arm around you, “You’re our girl, you know that. We’re never just gonna leave you out.” You rolled your eyes, “Maybe not intentionally but Scott’s like a lost puppy dog around Allison and you’re no better when it comes to Lydia.” You saw a slight smirk rise onto the boy’s face, he tilted his head towards you, “We’ll if you’re that jealous we could always invite Jackson to keep you company.”

Disgusted, you made a face, “Ew gross, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with Jackson especially not by choice.” He hummed, “You’re not denying that you’re jealous.”

You jabbed his gut causing him to recoil slightly, “I’m not jealous. Why is that even the first thing that comes to your mind? What, are you trying to make me jealous, Stilinski? Have all these years you harbored a crush on me, huh?” You teased, “Are you in love with me, Stiles?” He jumped back, “Don’t you even start with me, no, to all of that,” he waved his hands motioning to your figure.

“Wow didn’t realize I was that ugly,” by now you had reached where Scott was sitting, taking his apple you bit into while you listened to Stiles ramble, “THAT is NOT what I meant and you know it.” You assumed Scott had been listening in on the whole discussion since he was wearing an amuse look on his face. Stiles had sat across from you two, pointing at you like a disappointed parent, “Got em’,” he finally concluded placing the keys onto the table, “Pick you up right after work tonight and we’ll meet at the rink, cool?” Scott’s attention was already caught somewhere else and so was yours.

As if it was a whole different person, Erica strutted through the cafeteria wearing an outfit you would’ve never even considered that she owned. Her hair was done and her makeup as well. She made her way to a table where sat two random boys as she reached over and grabbed one of their apples, biting into it. Her dark red lipstick smeared slightly and she wasted no time wiping it away with a sultry smirk.

“What,” Lydia had joined her hands lightly slapping on your table, “the holy hell is that?”

“It’s Erica.”

You three never even had to look at each other before you dashed into the hallway together, jumping down the stairs and out the doors you find her once more but this time she was with someone. Derek. She was getting into Derek’s car, staring you down as if she was some kind of Bond villain. Once she was fully in the car, Derek sped away. You and Stiles both just sighed as your shoulders dropped, while Scott’s jaw tighten.

“Well now there’s three,” you remarked monotonously.

~

After school you had joined Scott at his work. While you didn’t work there, you often joined him on his shifts, thankfully early on Scott had gotten Deaton (his boss) to agree to it. Provided that you of course didn’t mess with anything, which you never did. It was just a great way to make sure Scott’s homework would actually get finished, plus it gave you somewhere to be instead of just home alone.

When Peter was alive, Scott had gotten shot and Deaton had taken care of it, he had also kept Peter from taking Scott. To this day you and Scott still don’t understand what exactly happened. How exactly Deaton knows about how to heal Scott. Actually, when you found out that Deaton knew something about the supernatural, he was your first choice to ask about what’s going on with you. You just never found a good time to ask, hence why you ended up asking Derek. Scott has also been trying to have a talk with Deaton about everything, which is where you are right now.

“Hey Doc.”

Deaton turned to face Scott. “When are we gonna talk about… the thing that we never got a chance to talk about?”

“Ah, yes. We never did get a chance to talk about that, did we?” You perked up, trying to listen to the quiet conversation going on across the room. Scott shook his head in response to Deaton’s question.

“Now is definitely a good time.”

“Thank God.”

“What do you think? Two dollars?” You tilted your head, what the hell? Apparently you weren’t the only the only one thrown off by the statement. Scott’s eyebrows scrunched together slightly, “Two dollars?”

“Ah you’re right, two-fifty more a hour. It seems like a pretty good raise.” You sighed, apparently now wasn’t a good time to talk about what you two actually wanted to know.

“That’s not exactly what I was… wait two-fifty more a hour?” Scott was cut off guard by the offer, “Done, don’t forget to clean up the cat cages.” Deaton shook his hand and left the room before Scott could come to terms with what just happened.

“Damn, he just cleaned your clock, you know that right?”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, “Nevermind.”

~

After Scott had finished his shift, Stiles arrived to pick you both up. You were on your way to the ice rink now, you were also still grumbling and whining in the back seat as he was driving. He looked at you from the rear view mirror and Scott twisted back to see you as well, they both laughed at your small fit you were in the process of throwing.

“Come on, Y/N. It won’t be that bad, we’re not gonna leave you out,” Scott reassured tapping your knee as you turned up your nose at them.

“Yeah, brighten up, plus we could still call Jackson to come hang out with you, if you want,” Stiles laughed.

You moaned, “No, absolutely not.”

Scott had glanced at Stiles slightly, had you been paying attention you would’ve seen the sly look they exchanged before Scott turned towards you once more, “Are you sure you’re not jealous?” You felt yourself choke on air, clearing your throat you said, “Why would I be?” Scott shrugged, “I don’t know, you didn’t have a problem with this idea until Lydia was invited. Maybe you wanted Stiles all to yourself.” You snapped your head down from looking at the ceiling to now both boys and you saw the cocky smirks they were both wearing. You scoffed and kicked both their seats, “Bite me.”

“Hey, what did Roscoe do to you?”

To be honest, this isn’t the first time you three have had this back forth (all joking of course), since Melissa has had you for so long she’s always treated you and Scott like you two were siblings. Stiles on the other hand, wasn’t allow in your room because he was a boy. Melissa had always given him a slight look when he would get too close as well. Those two things eventually dissipated and became less of a concern as you both got older. The inside joke between you three, did not unfortunately. After Scott had found out about your slightly different rules when it came to Stiles, you were teased tremendously for supposedly having a crush on the boy. Every time brought both boys pain to the gut.

You three arrived at the ice rink, Scott leaving and holding his door opened for you as Stiles came around the side to join you. Allison and Lydia had shown up already waiting for you. The boys went to unlock the doors as you follow close behind, when they finally got them unlocked they turned to you both playfully biting each side of your shoulders.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?”

“You said to bite you,” they synced.

The girls walked up, Allison reaching for Scott and Lydia barely acknowledging Stiles before walking past you both. You gave him a pointed and mocking look, he gave you a push before closing the doors and you both made your ways towards the rink.

You sat down in the bleachers, little bit away from where Lydia and Stiles were currently sitting. You know they were talking but quite frank you couldn’t really hear them. You had brought yourself a book because even though your best friends spent the whole day stressing that you wouldn’t be sidelined, you knew them way better than they thought you did. You glanced at your phone and debated on maybe calling someone to pick you up, but who would you even call?

Jackson? Absolutely not, even if you did, he wouldn’t come get you and you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from punching him in the face if he did.

Danny? No, you didn’t want to bother the poor boy.

Matt? No way in hell, he gave you the absolute creeps.

Isaac? Now that, was a maybe, however the boy was in the wind. You didn’t even know if he had his phone or if he would even pick up. You haven’t spoken since that night at the police station and considering Erica’s behavior you were skeptical that the Isaac you knew would be the one to show up.

You sighed, placing your phone back next to you, with your hands at your cheeks and elbows on your knees, you watched Scott and Allison walk off towards the rink. Eventually so did the silent pair that was on your other side. Deciding it was best to just suck it up, you got off the bench and stepped onto the ice. It was one of your favorite activities after all. You twirled and skated, playfully messing around in the corner while the other four did their thing, all in their own worlds. That is, until you heard a scream. It was truly deafening, terrifying, unlike anything you had ever heard before. You placed your feet in stopping position and scanned to find the owner of the scream, only to find Lydia on her hands and knees screeching at the ice below her.

You all make your way towards her, inquiring on if she was alright, searching for any sign that something was wrong but nothing. All that could be done was Stiles holding her while she whaled.

~

The next morning at school, you were leaving class. You kind have been avoiding Stiles and Scott today, only talking to them this morning while on the way to school. You didn’t realize it before but you were more hurt by being left alone than you thought. After what happened with Lydia you guys all decided it was time to leave and when you got home, you quietly made your way to your room mentioning to Scott about just being tired. You had laid in bed for a couple hours wide awake, just thinking.

Were you jealous? No, you couldn’t be, despite the jokes, you didn’t actually like Stiles nor Scott like that.

After you had pondered for a little bit, you had found your answer.

Were you scared? Maybe. But scared of what?

...

Being replaced.

For the longest time, it was just Scott, Stiles and you. The trio. Always together, always there for each other. You did everything together and sure you knew eventually you would find partners and maybe other friends but it never dawned on you that if the boys each found someone, you would possibly be fazed out. You knew they would never intentionally do anything to push you away but that didn’t stop your worrying.

Your thoughts were cut off by a slam to the lockers. You turned the corner to see Erica backing up Scott against the lockers. Allison was in the distance too, she was witnessing everything. You didn’t know what exactly was happening but you knew that it was nothing good. You marched towards the two, grabbing Erica’s shoulder.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Erica finished her sentence to Scott, he gripped her wrist and pulled her off of him. She snarled at you before turning her back away from you.

“I’ll tell Isaac you said hi.”

You felt yourself falter, Scott noticed that your whole demeanor changed as well. He looked down and grabbed your hand squeezing it.

“I haven’t seen you today, we haven’t seen you,” he clarified. You took a shallow breath, “Yeah just had a lot on my mind.” He kept his gaze on you, “Is it about Isaac?”

You shook your head.

“Is it about the ice rink?”

You hesitated, before slowly nodding. Scott sighed, before pulling you off to the side, “We weren’t kidding when we said you’re not a fifth wheel.”

“I know, it’s not really that,” you mumbled, staring at your feet.

“Then what’s the matter?” You shrugged, swaying like a child before mumbling your answer once more, “I just kind of feel like I’m being replaced.” Scott was taken aback by your answer, he had no clue what to say. There was an odd silence in the air for a little while before Scott finally figured out what he wanted to say, “What made you feel like that?”

All you could do was shrugged once more. Talking about this was so hard. You finally sighed, “Okay, before I start, I’m gonna say this once and only once. No, I don’t have a crush on Stiles. Look honestly it’s just the fact that he’s trying to integrate her to be a part of us. I know it sounds silly but it’s true. It’s completely different with Allison, she’s your girlfriend, plus I’ve never had any problems with her. Lydia’s just I don’t know, she’s not awful, definitely better than Jackson. I guess since she’s not Stiles’ girlfriend, I get annoyed because with you two it’s different. You guys are DATING, of course I expect you guys to be in your own world but Stiles… she doesn’t even acknowledge him half the time so I know all his attention is going to be him trying to get hers. At least if they were dating it would be the same situation but it’s not. He’s-.”

“Okay, okay, hey look at me. Calm down, at this rate you're gonna make the lockers fly off the wall,” Scott joked holding your hands.

You wiped the tears that you hadn’t even realized had been falling, “Sorry.” Scott moved his hands to your shoulders, “Don’t be sorry, now what were you going to say?”

You took a deep breath, “He’s supposed to be my single buddy, you know, the friend that becomes your pair when the other starts dating someone. I guess in the end, I don’t really feel like you’re trying to replace me but Stiles is.”

“No, no, no, look I know I don’t need to say it but I’m going to, we’re not trying to replace you. Y/N, you’re our best friend, we’re family. Nothing and I mean nothing, could ever replace the bonds we share with you.”

Hearing that made you feel so much lighter, you know deep down you were being kind of ridiculous but maybe to keep you from imploding you just needed to hear that. That you were important.

“You’re right.”

“And I’m gonna talk to Stiles.” Your eyes widened, “What, no! Don’t do that, it’s fine!”

“Too late. Now come on let’s go to lunch.”

Scott had that goofy grin, that grin that says ‘I’ve got everything planned.’ “Also, you didn’t need to say that you didn’t have a crush on Stiles. I know you only have eyes on Isaac.” That caught you off guard, you choked on air, your head shooting up to look at Scott who just had that stupid smug smile on his face.

“Shut up.”

“It’s true! Even before all this happened, I remember when you two got assigned for that project together. You wouldn’t stop talking about it and you would mention him one too many times for it just to be because you had a project together.” You felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest. You knew that he knew but you didn’t know that he knew all that.

“Is it that obvious?” You said meakly.

~

During lunch, Stiles had rushed in to point out that Boyd was missing from school today, meaning Derek had gotten to him. That’s what you were dealing with now, the game plan. It was already after school and Scott was sending Stiles to Boyd’s house. He was also trying to send you as well but you wouldn’t budge, not when there was a chance to see Isaac. To see him okay.

“If he’s not home you call me, got it?” Scott instructed as you three headed down the hallway.

Stiles had slow his pace which Scott noticed immediately, “What?”

“Maybe we should let him. Boyd, you know? You said Derek’s giving them a choice, right?”

Scott grabbed his shoulder pulling him down the hallway, you trailing right behind them, “We can’t.”

“You got to admit, Erica looks pretty good. The word 'sensational' comes to mind.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, because she was basically manipulated into believing that this would fix all her problems. Sure she heard what Derek warned her about but I can guarantee she wasn’t listening. Big difference. I would put money on it that Derek is brushing it off like he did with Scott ‘If you listen to me, you’ll be fine.’ He won’t give them answers just false security.”

“How do you think she’s gonna look with a wolfsbane bullet in her head,” Scott argued as well.

Stiles took both your comments to heart, “Alright, all I’m saying is maybe this one, isn’t totally your responsibility.”

“They are,” Scott disagreed, “You know this thing is gonna get out of control and that makes me responsible.”

“Not to mention, could we live with ourselves if something happened to them, knowing we could have possibly helped them?” You added.

Stiles’ hands clapped to his sides, “Alright, I’m with you guys. And I also got to say this newfound heroism in you two is making me very attracted to you.”

You and Scott scoffed, “Shut up.”

“No, seriously. Do you want to just try making out for a second? We could take turns,” he suggested gesturing to you three as you pushed him away, “Just to see how it feels.”

“How about I take my fist to your face so you can see how that feels?”

~

Scott and you had reached the ice rink to see Boyd finishing out his shift. You had hurried closer, calling to him to get his attention.

“Boyd!”

“We just want to talk,” you pleaded.

At the sound of your voice, Boyd’s head had tilted up towards you.

“Hey, come on, Boyd, please,” Scott begged, “Did Derek tell you everything? And I don’t just mean going out of control on the full moons. I mean everything.” Boyd had shut down the machine he was using, “He told me about the hunters.”

“And that’s not enough for you to say no,” you asked. Scott continued your point, “Whatever you want, there’s other ways to get it.”

“I just want to not eat lunch alone everyday.” His statement froze you, you hadn’t considered something like that but still.. this wasn’t the best way.

“Trust us, Boyd, if you’re looking for friends, you can do a lot better than Derek,” you said.

“That really hurts, Y/N.” Derek. Of course he was here. Scott had turned around making sure you were behind him but that didn’t stop you from seeing him.

Isaac. He was okay, well at least you thought so. You were right though, he definitely wasn’t the same boy from before. Now, he not only dressed differently but he wore a different expression entirely. The sweet smile you adored was gone, replaced with a smug smile. “I mean if you’re gonna review me at least take a consensus,” Derek motioned to the two teenagers beside him.

“Erica, how’s life been for you since we met?”

“In a word… transformative,” She roared, literally. You and Scott adjusted your stances already seeing where this was going.

“Isaac?”

“Well, I’m a little bummed about be a fugitive but other than that, I’m great.”

You scoffed, “Let me add to that. Did dear old Derek tell you the whole reason Scott is in this mess, the whole reason all of us are in this mess, is because of his family.” You had moved next to Scott by now, pointing at Derek, “Did he tell you that the only reason he’s an alpha is because he decided to be a selfish prick and slash his own uncle’s throat? Even after he said he wouldn’t for Scott’s sake?” Your rant had caused an awkward feeling to fall in the room. The two teenagers clearly looked slightly uncomfortable at the new information, Derek had cleared his throat before staring back at Scott. You crossed your arms, looking at Scott before facing the newly formed pack, “I guess he didn’t. Hm, interesting, don’t you think?”

Scott had taken a few steps forward, “Okay, hold on. This isn’t exactly a fair fight.”

“Then go home, Scott,” Derek smiled.

With a growl, Scott had punched the ice denting the surface, “I meant fair for them.”

Isaac and Erica had no problem advancing towards Scott. He had taken your arm and quickly moved you closer to the machine and Boyd, out of the way and safe. Scott turned and without any effort flung Isaac across the rink, moving on to slam Erica into the side of the ice rink machine. That didn’t stop the two from getting back up and trying again. They had actually had a second where they got the upper hand, pushing him in between them before Isaac flung him away just like Scott had.

“Isaac, stop! Leave him alone!” He ignored you, his focus completely on Scott. It didn’t matter, Scott beat them down again and again, until they finally stayed down.

“Don’t you get it? He’s not doing this for you, he’s just adding to his own power, okay? It’s all about him. He’s makes you feel like he’s giving you some kind of gift, when all he’s done is turn you into a bunch of guard dogs!” Scott yelled, slinging them across the ice and back to Derek. They laid there in shock of what Scott had just done all by himself.

“It’s true. It is about power.” Derek started making his way towards Scott now, transforming, his eyes glowing that blood red and fangs growing. He slashed at Scott, punched, kicked, beaten down your best friend. You couldn’t believe your eyes, it was brutal, it made you shake out of fear for the boy. You had to do something but you didn’t know what. All you knew was that you were afraid, afraid of what might happen if you didn’t do something. You glanced at Isaac and Erica, still sitting on the floor their attention now switching from Derek to you. You could see it in Isaac’s eyes, he knew you were gonna do something.

“Y/N, No!”

You ran as fast as you could on the ice, reached for Derek’s hand before he could slash at Scott again but it was useless. He threw you like trash, away from them. You landed with a loud crash and a groan from pain. You heard your name being called from a few different sources but you couldn’t tell. Everything got fuzzy. Only it wasn’t from the throw it was like from before, with Lydia. Your senses were basically rendered useless, you couldn’t hear anything and everyone looked slightly blurry. You knew they were looking at you though, you knew they could see it.

Your eyes glowing.

Before Derek could notice you, before he could stop you, you picked your head up and that’s when your sense came back. Heighten, stronger and clearer than ever.

“Get away from him!”

You slammed your hands on the ice, causing it to ripple like it was water, it traveled towards Derek knocking him off his position on Scott’s throat. He fell to the floor and an energy pushed him into the ice by his throat, almost like someone was stepping on his now. The ice cracked underneath him but you didn’t care. You rushed to Scott putting his head in your lap.

“Scott are you okay?” He lightly nodded, coughing up some more blood. By now Derek had risen up, staring at you in shock. You shot him a glare, “Leave, or I’ll do it again. And this time, I won’t stop.” Derek had slowly backed away going to his two new betas, who were now staring at you. Erica try to tend to Derek but he just brushed her off, Isaac on the other hand, he kept staring at you even when Derek tried to guide him out. You couldn’t tell if he was concerned for you or scared of you. Boyd had gotten down from where he was sitting getting ready to join the others.

“Boyd, please don’t, we don’t want to see you get hurt,” you pleaded one last time.

“You don’t want to be like them,” Scott warned

“You’re right,” Boyd lifted his shirt, revealing his bite, “I want to be like you.”

~

You had gotten Scott back to the clinic where he was worrying about his wounds from Derek, “Why aren’t you healing?” You shrugged even though he was mainly talking to himself, you rounded the corner to see a guy on the table, slashed.

“It’s from an alpha,” Deaton said coming from the shadows, “I think maybe we better have that talk now.”

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

a/n: I don't have much to say other than I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw

[shotoyami]

hi! loving your writing so far so i thought i’d drop a request in the box :)

could you maybe write a scott summer’s x male!reader where they’re both younger (as in students themselves at the x-mansion) and Scott is struggling with migraines and the reader helps him out/comforts him?

whether your write it or not, thank you for you time and have a good day!

prenotes: this is so super cute, for real. Scott needs the biggest hug guys, please, someone hug this man because his supposed wife isn’t hugging him enough (all the love to Jean, but move over, Scott’s my man).

Thank you so much for the request, anon<3

pairing: young Scott Summers + young male reader

warnings: one mention of “pills” (ibuprofen)

genre: fluff, because obviously

notes: idk what I was trying to do in terms of perspective, so please disregard that if it’s a bit confusing… migraines suck, that’s fairly well known, but I imagine it’s horrendous for Scott since it’s from a mutation. like, take a normal migraine and multiply it by a thousand. ouch.

word count: 700 +

Migraines hurt a lot guys

Ever since the arrival of new students, the new generation of x-men, Xavier’s school is just the fullest it’s ever been. Life spread all throughout the mansion, so many classrooms filled. This, of course, is a great thing, especially for those who feel a bit outcast– especially for students like Scott.

Being surrounded by people who are different, like him, was immensely relaxing. This doesn’t necessarily mean that he wasn’t still scared of hurting others, no, but it certainly helped to be surrounded by the support of other people scared just the same.

The best support system for him being his best friend, (y/n), a boy around his age, a fellow mutant who’s still learning how to control his mutation.

Now, every mutation has its setback (or, in some cases, setbacks), and for Scott that is horrible, horrible migraines. Like, seriously, killer migraines.

Today is one of those days, where Scott has locked himself in his dorm as a consequence of such. His curtains are drawn, every sound that would be happening daily is completely absent.

A soft knock comes to his door. “...Scott, it’s (y/n). It’s 2 p.m., the professor was looking for you.” His best friend’s voice calls, causing Scott to groan and, reluctantly, get up to open the door. He must’ve looked pretty bad, because (y/n) would wince at the sight of him. “Yeesh…alright, migraine day for you, Scott?” He only slightly nods in response before retreating back into his dorm and collapsing onto his bed.

(y/n) carefully walks into the room, closing the door softly and slowly setting down the work he’d gathered onto his friend’s dresser. He glances over at Scott, who’s hiding from the world underneath his blanket, and chuckles softly. “Gosh, Summers, you act as though your migraine is eating you alive.” He jokes, and receives a glare in response. With a sigh, he sits on the edge of his friend’s bed. “So, have you taken any meds yet? Eaten anything? If not, I don’t mind grabbing something for you real fast. That should make you feel a bit better.” Scott huffs, but grumbles to himself. “What was that?”

“I haven’t.” He mumbles. (y/n) hums in response, nodding, “I’ll grab something for you then. Oatmeal? Soup? Mac and Cheese?” Scott blinks at his friend. What a particularly specific list of options. “...mac and cheese.”

(y/n) nods in understanding and slowly rises. “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.” When he leaves, Scott is left in silence yet again.

Silence. A usually comforting sound, something to be considered peaceful. But, not right now. Never when a migraine was raging. Scott frowns to himself, hearing the sound of a clock ticking somewhere. It was rather grating, the sound of that clock. Right as he was about to make a complaint of some sort, the door to his room opens again, causing Scott to softly hiss.

“Sorry, sorry. Should’ve warned you with a knock, huh?” (y/n) swiftly apologies, walking in carefully with the warm meal. He brings the bowl over to Scott, offering a spoon. “I grabbed some ibuprofen too, so don’t scarf it all down at once, alright?”

His friend sat silently, allowing Scott to eat in the sound of peace, or at least as peaceful as anything can be with a migraine. About halfway through the bowl, (y/n) hands him a couple of pills. When the food is finally finished, Scott lays back while his friend moves the bowl somewhere in in the room.

He just lays there for a bit, resting his eyes while he silently hopes for the medicine to kick in as quickly as possible. After a few moments, the bed sort of shifts, causing Scott’s eyes to snap open. “Gosh man, calm down. This ain’t the first time I’ve done this– no homo.” He shoots (y/n) a glare in response, which causes the other teen to chuckle. “I’m sorry, maybe a little homo. C’mere.”

(y/n) pulls Scott against him, wrapping himself comfortably around the other teen. The two sort of melt into one another, and Scott finally feels himself relax a bit. “Get some rest, Scott.” Is the last thing he hears as he slowly starts to slip away.

[rjzimmerman]

Solar Farms Have a Superpower Beyond Clean Energy. (New York Times)

Excerpt from this New York Times story:

It’s not your average solar farm.

The glassy panels stand in a meadow. Wildflowers sway in the breeze, bursts of purple, pink, yellow, orange and white among native grasses. A monarch butterfly flits from one blossom to the next. Dragonflies zip, bees hum and goldfinches trill.

As solar projects unfurl across the United States, sites like this one in Ramsey, Minn., stand out because they offer a way to fight climate change while also tackling another ecological crisis: a global biodiversity collapse, driven in large part by habitat loss.

The sun’s clean energy is a powerful weapon in the battle against climate change. But the sites that capture that energy take up land that wildlife needs to survive and thrive. Solar farms could blanket millions of acres in the United States over the coming decades.

So developers, operators, biologists and environmentalists are teaming up with an innovative strategy.

“We have to address both challenges at the same exact time,” said Rebecca Hernandez, a professor of ecology at the University of California, Davis, whose research focuses on how to do just that.

Insects, those small animals that play a mighty role in supporting life on Earth, are facing alarming declines. Solar farms can offer them food and shelter by providing a diverse mix of native plants.

Such plants can also decrease erosion, nourish the soil and store planet-warming carbon. They can also attract insects that improve pollination of nearby crops.

Pollinator friendly solar can pay off for business, too, potentially saving money and giving projects an edge for approval at a time when communities are increasingly wary of vast solar farms. Developers are taking note.

But there’s a broad spectrum of pollinator friendliness and little agreement on what efforts should count. Standards are often nonexistent. Some big projects are limiting pollinator habitat to tiny corners of their sites. Ecological value varies widely.

Communities may not understand the difference, and corporate marketing may exaggerate. That’s led to accusations of greenwashing.

Pollinator habitat on solar farms is “a serious work in progress,” said Scott Black, executive director of the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation, a nonprofit group that is working on an effort to bring some clarity by certifying solar sites.

“It’s not fair if some people are truly stepping up to do this right and another company is barely doing anything and saying they’re pollinator friendly,” he said.

“If you build it, will they come?” he asks in his research. So far the answer is a resounding yes, if you grow the right plants.

In a study published late last year, his team found that insect abundance had tripled over five years on test plots at two other Minnesota solar sites. The abundance of native bees grew twentyfold.

The results come amid a global decline of wildlife that leaders are struggling to address. Some of the most well-known insect species are in trouble: Later this year, the federal government is expected to rule on whether to place monarch butterflies on the Endangered Species List. North American birds, for their part, are down almost 30 percent since 1970.

But at this site, called Anoka County Solar, acoustic monitoring has documented 73 species of birds, presumably attracted by the buffet of seeds and insects. Some build nests in the structures supporting the panels.

Mammals are showing up, too. Mr. Walston checked a trail camera before leaving, hoping to discover the occupant of a remarkably large burrow: A fox, he thought, or a badger. No luck.

(It’s trickier to make solar sites friendly to large wild animals, in part because developers are nervous to let them near expensive infrastructure, but efforts are underway there, too.)

What makes this meadow possible is the height of the panels. A prairie restoration firm had told ENGIE, the owner and developer, that taller panels would allow for a sharp increase in native vegetation species, providing much more ecological diversity, said John Gantner, the director of engineering and delivery for ENGIE’s smaller-scale sites.

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

!!! <3

since you didn’t specify a ship, i assumed you wanted mumscott! hope that’s okay :3 (vote mumscott at @scottsmajorshipbracket and i’ll write you stuff!)

—

Scott love autumn. Honestly, there wasn’t an aspect of it that didn’t appeal to him.

The temperature drops in numbers, a break from the Sun’s searing rays prior. The chill is a perfect excuse to knit an unreasonable amount of sweaters��whether it be for Mumbo or Gem and Impulse. (Mumbo tells Scott he has more than enough, which he struggles to believe. What’s a dozen hangers more?)

Dark green leaves brighten to oranges and yellows. With a new start, they sink from branches and pile onto sidewalks. Whenever he and Mumbo stumble upon one on their morning walks, Scott makes sure to take his time walking through the pile, relishing the crunch of leaves beneath his boot heels.

Apple picking allows Scott for a breather. He often finds himself cramped in his office, hunched over his laptop for hours on end. 

Luckily, his boyfriend has the better sense of self-preservation between the two, and commonly takes Scott for a walk to the orchard a couple blocks away. Picking apples from each tree relaxes him, and they offer brainstorms for new recipes.

And speaking of recipes—cooking! Don’t even get him started. Though Scott loves creating hats and sweaters, baking pastries is one of his comfort activities. Cinnamon muffins drizzled in blueberry glaze were his forte, and while he sieves the purée from the fruit’s skin, he can’t help to be grateful for Mumbo constantly tending to his garden.

And despite everything that makes Scott’s favorite season amazing, there’s one specific thing that stands out among others.

Fireflies churr softly, heating the air as they flicker about. From behind berry bushes, crickets chirp non-stop, it becomes drowned out from the rippling wind.Here he was, down on Earth. While he lightly sways on a hammock with Mumbo, Scott could practically see every constellation there was.

After trekking the grassy hill yards away from their house, the managed to set up the sling, wrapping the cords around two trees parallel to one another. Following a bit of struggle, the two managed to settle into the hammock together.

(They had more unsuccessful attempts than Scott would like to admit. Whenever Mumbo proceeded to sit after him, there’d be a shift of weight that would cause Scott to fall from his side. He’d be lying if he claimed his and Mumbo’s bodies weren’t shaking with laughter)

He lay against him, cheek pressed against the softness of Mumbo’s sweater. With his arms wrapped around his torso, Scott grins against his chest.

Rich, dark navy pooled above them, speckled in polar dots that formed various figures. The first Scott saw were two pointed boulders different in size connected to each other by a line.

Cetus, he believes it’s called.

His eyes shift to another. There’s a squid with a squared body, only three arms coming out of it. Scott isn’t so sure what it’s called.

From curled-up cats and ballerinas, to archers and swimmers, stars littered across the sky come together, embroidering pictures on dark felt. There’s only one word to describe this tapestry of stories. Beautiful.

Finally, his gaze meets a special one. To some, it’s nothing but a W, wide and lopsided. Just another meaningless marking found whenever you looked north.

But Scott? He knows exactly what its name is.

Cassiopeia.

The constellation of love. 

Scott tilts his head, allowing his eyes to shift to Mumbo. The gentle glow of the fireflies cast light over his face, soft smile on his lips visible as he gazed at the stars

There’s a warmth that floods his chest—one cozier than the crisp air. Scott shifts and reaches up to brush a stray curl from Mumbo’s forehead. The other looks at him, confused for a moment, but the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles once more.

And, oh, Scott isn’t sure he can resist anymore.

So he leans up, their lips meeting, soft and tender and just as familiar as leaves crunched beneath their feet, or the scent of apples wafting in the air.

As the other smiles into the kiss, Scott’s arms shift to wrap around his shoulders, fingers playing with the cotton of the sweater he knitted for Mumbo. 

—

and on ao3!

[tokosparrow]

“Hello! I'm new to requesting so if I suck MB... I really love Matthew patel and there's very little fanfics of him out there 🥲 how about Matthew being beat by Scott (in a world where he doesn't explode into coins) and after everyone leaves, reader helps him collect himself and they end up being friends, and then later on they confess? Gender neutral reader would be nice!! Thank you 💚”

a/n : thank you @habitabel for the request!! i also love how wholesome this is so double thanks (ps. this has slight angst) :3

you were having a great time watching the battle of the bands, you had a shared amount of favorite bands you wanted to see, especially the one named sex bomb-omb was it? soon you became much more invested when some guy flew through the roof, killing the band that was supposed to be battling.

‘oh wow…’ you thought, watching the guy challenging the bassist, poor guy you suppose.

matthew patel you soon to find out it’s the guys name gets pretty mad, soon you watched as the two fought over a girl named romona flowers? you watched, amused, as matthew sung and fought, soon loosing to the bassist, leaving the poor guy defeated on the floor. everyone has soon started leaving since the performance was basically over, the guy still being left on the floor which pulled onto your heart strings.

as people continued to leave you walked up to the guys body to check on him just once before you left yourself, you place your hand onto his chest gently to make sure he was still breathing as he was landed on his back pretty hard. soon a groan came from him leading you to quickly take your hand back as you jumped a bit.

“you okay man? you hit the ground pretty hard…” you asked as you watched him open his eyes and trying to sit himself up.

“yea…i’m alright..” he responded, struggling just a bit, yet you you helped him hold him to his feet.

“your name is matthew patel, right?” he nods as you asked, still feeling shaked up. “im (Y/N), im gonna take you the hospital to make sure you’re alright”, you say as you help led him as he still struggled.

then you know it, about a year passed and the both of you and matthew became good friends after you helped him so kindly, and he was ever so grateful for someone like you, you felt the same. which led you into a small problem, you somehow gained a crush on your friend that you became so close with, it was something you thought about over and couldn’t put a finger on just why you liked matthew so much.

you were on a bench in your local park as this thought pondered in your mind, sighing and lost in your thoughts as small hue of red creeped onto your cheeks as you thought of matthew again and again thinking that maybe today is day you get the confession over with. you didn’t even noticed that he already somehow spotted you from across the park and running toward you as fast as he could.

“(Y/N)..!!” “Matthew!?” you shouted in response as the scream of him calling your name out pulled you out of your imagination.

as he stopped infront of you, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath, soon making eye contact with you, with your eyes already placed on him hiding the slight blush on your cheeks.

“i saw you…across the park…so i decided… to come over and talk..” he said taking breaths inbetween a couple words, soon sitting himself next to you.

“you alright…you seemed out of it” hearing his concerned tone made you fidget just a bit, deciding whether if you should go though with this confession.

“yea…is it weird to like a friend?” you asked out of the blue as you continued to fidget, confusing matthew just a bit but soon leading him to smile.

“sooo who’s this lucky person?” hitting your arm playfully with his elbow, soon realizing that this seems a bit serious.

“well…it’s not weird okay..?” rubbing his neck as he says so, “if you’re comfortable, you could tell me who it is…?”

you thought for a moment, then you sighed. better now or never, you look at him and took a deep breath as to give yourself a moment before telling him the truth.

“i like…well…” you say placing your hand onto his hand that was on the bench, looking at him feeling much more nervous than before, “i like you matthew…”

he looked at you for moment, almost speechless and trying to put a single thought together on how to respond. you took him being speechless for the worse and stood up, a bit of tears formed in your eyes and looking down as you didn’t want to make any eye contact with him for one moment out of embarrassment.

“i’m sorry…i-..” “wait (Y/N)…i…” matthew took your hands as he stood up and before you could walk away, gently holding both of your hands into his as it’s like he doesn’t want to hurt them.

“i…i like you a whole lot too, much more than you think..” he admits confidently, caressing your hands as he does so.

“i’ve liked you a lot for a while yknow” he says as he smiles, soon placing one of his hands on your cheeks, gaining a small smile from you which made him happy.

as matthew has his hand place on your cheek, he felt his heart start to race slowly, soon placing a kiss on your lips which was returned. with a moment so valuable, there were a surprise that neither you or matthew could possibly predict.

“woah, sparks??” you two both said confused as the kiss quickly was broken to see what just happened.

you two looked at each other once again, soon laughing and giggling as you two embrace each other in a hug, both of your foreheads against each other. what a great way to confess, you both must’ve thought at the moment.

ahahahahshaa, im so in love with him <333

[outtoshatter]

Prompt 2: “Don't worry, I got you.”

Fanfiction | Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek

Warnings: none | Rating: Teen & up

Raining Cats and Dogs (also on ao3!)

Derek almost didn’t stop. The storm had picked up, the rain was coming down in buckets and thunder rumbled threateningly overhead. The flashes of lightning were bright and close. Even on the highest setting, his wipers could hardly keep the windshield clear enough for him to see.

It was a combination of good timing, Derek’s instinct to track movement, and pure dumb luck that he noticed it at all. He turned his head. Lightning struck, illuminating the rain drenched gray sky, and the soaked pile on the shoulder of the road twitched.

He jerked and then righted the wheel, cursing at himself. He pulled off more safely and flicked on his hazard lights.

The rain was icy, stinging against his skin and soaking him the second he got out. He ducked his head and ran along the road to where he saw it. He splashed through the deep puddles that formed as the rain flooded the ditch.

“Mrrr…”

He sped up; when he reached the soaked lump, he bent over, squinting through the rain to see if it was even alive.

The kitten bunched up in a shivering, wet ball, opening its mouth in an almost soundless warning hiss.

Derek tried to guess how young it was—old enough that it would probably make it, by his estimation—before, resigned, he stripped his jacket off.

He didn’t try to get closer or pick it up right then. He tossed his jacket over it from afar.

The kitten yowled with panic, flailing under the leather.

Derek lunged before it could fight its way out, scooping it up inside the jacket. “Don’t worry,” he said grimly, “I got you.”

It struggled in his arms, no doubt shredding the lining of his jacket. He sloshed his way back to the car and got in with the jacket bundled to his chest. He cranked the heat and seat warmers, and dumped the spitting kitten in the passenger seat. It was still drenched to the point where Derek couldn’t tell what color its fur was, or whether it was a cat or a gremlin. It flexed its claws against the seat, backing up against the door with its greenish eyes locked on him. He faced forward. “That’s fine. We’ll just sit here and warm up a little. After this, we’ll go see…my friend.” He grimaced. Scott would tell Stiles about this, he knew it. But there was no avoiding it. Dr. Deaton was out of town and the kitten needed to see someone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it hunker down against the seat as the warmth seeped up. The rain eased after a few minutes; it was still coming down steadily, but it lightened up enough to give the wipers a fighting chance. Thunder cracked. The kitten flinched. Derek watched from the corner of his eye, careful not to turn his head. He’d already figured out it was best to just pretend he didn’t know they were there. He pressed his hands to his eyes. Stiles was going to kick him out. This was the ninth stray he’d picked up this year. He didn’t mean to, he just kept finding them, and he couldn’t just leave them out there. He sighed and put the car in drive, aiming for the vet’s office. Maybe the shelter would have room this time. Stiles wanted him to stop bringing home strays, so they didn’t have to keep saying goodbye. Bu it was a good thing. The six cats and two dogs he’d found had gone to terrific homes. This little one would as well. Maybe Scott would keep his mouth shut. He’d nearly reached the office when a slight, damp weight touched his leg. Four delicate paws pressed into his thigh, and then the kitten curled up in his lap. “Well, you’re a brave one,” he said evenly. His hands flexed on the steering wheel. Otherwise, he didn’t acknowledge it until they pulled into the parking lot. He gingerly worked his phone out of his pocket and called Scott. “I’m outside,” he said when he answered. “I have a…very wet and cold kitten.” He was quiet for a beat. “I’ll bring a towel out. Was it injured?” “I don’t think so, just caught in that bad storm.” “Alright, I’m on my way.” Derek risked glancing down at the kitten; it was either asleep or doing a good impression of it. Scott wasted no time wrapping the kitten in the towel, tightly enough that all I could do was yowl unhappily from its new swaddle. Derek went inside with them, unsurprised when Scott’s first order of business was to get the kitten warmed up; they’d done this enough times to have a routine. He looked at Derek while deftly avoiding the kitten’s outraged biting. He sighed. “I didn’t go looking, I saw it on the side of the road.” Scott hummed doubtfully. “Alright, why don’t you go to my office and grab the spare scrubs I keep in there so you stop dripping all over the floor while I deal with this?” Derek went to do just that, but he hesitated at the door. “Would you…not tell Stiles?” Scott didn’t look up. “Hmm,” was all he said.

Derek glowered, but there wasn’t much else he could do besides ask. He left to change. He should have expected it. He heard Stiles’s voice in the exam room when he left Scott’s office. With a heavy sigh, he pushed the door open. He couldn’t help smiling when he saw the kitten bouncing around the table chasing a mouse toy. “She’s healthy,” Scott said into the silence. “She’s going to need flea treatment and lots of food—she’s a little skinny—but there’s no microchip, and she seems pretty dirty for a pet. Probably a stray that lives near people—she’s fine being pet and handled. Mostly.” Stiles took a deep breath. His hoodie was wet at the shoulders from the rain, his hair damp. “We agreed,” he said slowly. Despite his calm tone, Derek could feel his disappointment. “I found her on the side of the road, half-drowned. I couldn’t just leave her.” “I know, but-” He rubbed his face. “We can’t foster again. Derek,” he sighed when he opened his mouth. “We agreed, remember, after the last one, that we wouldn’t do anymore fosters.” “There’s really no room at the shelter.” “Thank you, Scott,” Stiles said between his teeth without looking away from Derek’s face. “It’ll be okay this time,” he said. “She’ll get adopted really quickly.” His voice cracked, but that was just from the rain. “Probably a week. Look at her.” “That’s not what I’m worried about. You get attached,” Stiles pointed out. “And then they’re gone! And I can’t-” “Oh my god,” Scott blurted suddenly. “Oh my god.” “I can’t help it,” Derek said. “And I can’t just leave them there—I won’t.” “Derek,” Stiles said, his voice quiet, “I’m not asking you to, I-” He cut off. “I hate seeing you so torn up when they get adopted.” “Better that than them on the streets though.” Scott rubbed his temples. “Good god. Get out.” He scooped up the kitten and her toy, shoving her into Stiles’s hands. Derek flinched, reaching out to take her, but Scott slapped a bottle of flea and tick treatment in his hands. “I’m tired and I want to go home. Both of you are idiots. Go talk about this at home.” He pointed at Stiles. “Just say it.” He pointed at Derek. “Listen.” Then he stomped out, waving his hands over his head. “I meant it,” he shouted. “Get out!” Stiles looked at the squirming kitten in his hands, baffled. She bapped his nose. “I can take her,” Derek said. “Maybe Boyd…or someone else can foster her.” Stiles’s fingers curled more securely around her as he looked at Derek, his expression going thoughtful. “No, let’s go home to talk. She’s coming with,” he added. “I think Scott’s right and we’re just not hearing each other.” He took Derek’s hand and pulled, giving him a careful kiss on the lips. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Derek prepared his case in his head while he followed the jeep home. He was already attached, so it didn’t change things if they fostered her or gave her up now. He would find her a home quickly, so they wouldn’t be inconvenienced for long. They already had some basics, and she would already be at their house, so this was much less hassle than finding someone else to foster her. Stiles sat them down at the kitchen table when they got home, looking uncharacteristically serious. The kitten chased her toy across the floor by their feet. “Okay. Look. The reason I don’t want us fostering strays is because of how torn up you get when they go to their new homes.” Derek winced. “I can-” Stiles cut him off with a sharp look. “You just quietly retreat into your head for days after they’re gone. You don’t need to go through that.” He set his jaw. “I’ll try to get better about it, but I can’t promise to leave them if I find them.” “I told you, I don’t want you to do that.” Stiles rested his chin on his upturned palm, smiling as he kicked around the toy for the kitten to chase. That was how it started—Stiles got just as attached as Derek did, when they took in a new stray. But once a potential home was found, his demeanor changed. He got anxious and tense, and distanced himself from the dog or cat. Derek realized why as he watched Stiles playing with the kitten. You just quietly retreat into your own head after they’re gone. “Oh,” he murmured, guilt grabbing him by the throat. “Oh. Stiles, I-” “Can’t we just keep her?” he blurted. He straightened. “That’s all I’ve been trying to say. We can keep her, and it’ll be easier to let go of the others, for you.” Derek blinked at him. He thought of all the other strays, all the other conversations like this that never had a satisfying ending. “You want to?” “Yes.” Derek laughed breathlessly. “So do I.” Stiles beamed. “Good. Now let’s go give her that flea bath.” They shared a kiss first, then turned on their unsuspecting new kitten. They decided to call the kitten Lightning after they all three barely survived the bath and all of her escape attempts. Derek disinfected Stiles’s cuts while Lightning rolled around on a towel and glared balefully at them. Stiles took the hair dryer out with a gleam in his eye. “Come here, Lightning-bug, we have to get you dry.” He took just a little too much pleasure when he flicked it on, Derek thought. They all collapsed together on the couch after she was dry, too tired to make it up to the bedroom. Derek slumped against Stiles’s shoulder, one hand cupped under Lightning to keep her in place. He woke a little later when Stiles moved sharply. “Don’t worry,” he murmured sleepily, catching Lightning before she could slip off Derek’s slackened hand. “I got you.”

[tobiasdrake]

Oh that's right they DID do the Phoenix, just. Fucking. Weird. Xavier's here to explain all of the shit.

So Xavier feels Scott exploding into goo mid-kiss and sends Logan and Storm out there. They head out and just walk blindly through pea-soup fog until Logan complains.

At which point Storm just snaps her fingers and defogs the whole place.

Like she was legit just going to let them wander around blindly until one of them fell in the lake. It's a good thing Logan said something! Storm was enjoying fog time and forgot we had a mission here.

This was revenge for ruining the Sentinel class. She wanted Logan to dumbass himself into a swim.

So they wander around looking at the rocks Jean... left charged with self-sustaining telekinesis, I think?

There's just shit floating around even though Jean passed out from the sheer grossness of getting Scott's bits in her mouth.

So we take Jean back to Xavier where he Mr. Expositions what's going on here. First, and most importantly, that she was in fact inside Aang's iceberg.

Okay, I did not remember that but I guess I was reading that weird scene correctly.

Also, Jean is the most powerful mutant ever.

Why is there a Class Five if there's only one mutant in it? How do you even grade the power level or whatever of mutation? Is Beast a Class Four because his mutation is so extensive or Class One because he can't explode a bus station with laser eyes? What's the power level of regeneration? Ooh, or teleporting. What's Nightcrawler's power level?

I know this is a thing from the comics but it's silly there too. :P

But anyways. I get it. Jean has too much telekinesis, so much so that Xavier made up an entire category called Too Much Telekinesis-Havers just to fit her in.

From there, he explains this film's interpretation of the Phoenix Force.

Xavier: Her mutation is seated in the unconscious part of her mind, and therein lay the danger. When she was a girl, I created a series of psychic barriers to isolate her powers from her conscious mind. And, as a result, Jean developed a dual personality. Logan: What? Xavier: The conscious Jean whose powers were always in her control and the dormant side. A personality that, in our sessions, came to call itself the Phoenix. A purely instinctual creature, all desire and joy and rage.

Okay. So. Just a reminder: The Jean we saw at the start of the film had full control over her abilities. Charles decided that Jean has too much telekinesis, which he demonstrated by making up the Too Much Telekinesis folder in his filing cabinet and only putting her file in it.

But this is not what the antagonistic force of the film is.

No. It's not Jean having too much telekinesis that's causing problems.

Charles invaded Jean's brain and unethically suppressed her mutation. Kind of like the cure does! Topical! In doing so, he broke Jean's psyche and created an evil split personality called the Phoenix.

She was fine until Charles went in and tried to fix her for having too much telekinesis and instead cracked her brain in half. We aren't dealing with Jean's mutation gone uncontrollable, we're dealing with something Xavier accidentally put inside of her in a misguided attempt to make her acceptable. He did this to her.

Because she levitated cars and it freaked him out.

And then right after comes this exchange.

Logan: She knew all this? Xavier: It's unclear how much she knew. Far more critical is whether the woman in front of us is the Jean Grey we know or the Phoenix furiously struggling to be free.

So that's pretty much a flat admission that this was done to Jean without her knowledge or consent. Logan asks if Jean was informed and Xavier's like, "Fuck no!" before changing the subject.

Obviously Logan gets pissed right the fuck off.

Holy shit, Logan. Fucking go off, king. I want to have his babies. But. Y'know. In a manly way. <.<

...I think I'm kind of okay with the fact that Jean's going to kill Xavier later in the film. I think maybe that's fine, actually? Like, if anyone's going to die because of the Phoenix rising, it should be him.

Scott did nothing wrong but Xavier did everything wrong. Lesser of two evils. "Look, it was either this or letting her be really good at telekinesis. I MADE MY CHOICE."

God forbid women be good at telekinesis. Fucking get his ass, Phoenix.

[sterekchub]

A bit of a dark idea. The first time Stiles accidentally overeats in front of Derek is probably the moment where Stiles dooms his waistline and mobility. Derek becoming obsessed with feeding and fattening up Stiles whether the human wants it or not, all of Stiles complaints of "I'm too full, I can't eat anymore!" and "None of my clothes fit anymore, jerk!" and "Seriously, I could barely get up from the couch earlier, I'm getting way too fat!" going ignored by the werewolf, with him taking Stiles' lessening mobility as a chance to fatten him up even harder until Stiles is little more than a ball of blubber who can only whine and be made to eat and forced to grow

Derek can't be blamed- watching Stiles pig out? Was an experience. Stiles is almost sweating from the effort - he's eaten more than his fair share of slices of pizza (and of course Derek was counting). The rest of the pack trickles out slowly until it's just Derek and Stiles. And really - with only 5 slices left in the box, Stiles groans and says he might as well finish them. The heavy breathing, the red flush to his face pushing himself to eat more, the way Stiles' T-shirt rises up over his bloated middle... Derek NEEDS to see Stiles eating like this all the time. Stiles doesn't put much resistance up at first. He likes eating. He LOVES having sex with Derek. So there's nothing to complain about. Even if Derek is a little enthusiastic. Roughly telling Stiles he's not done eating. He has room for one more shake. One more slice of cake. But Stiles is thinking with his dick more than anything else- if he eats it all, Derek will fuck him! Only starts getting a little concerned when he starts realizing just how wide he's getting. When Scott and his dad start voicing their concerns. When Stiles notices he has to sort of roll out of bed, otherwise he can't seem to get up under his rapidly acquired mass. Sees that he's got stretchmarks EVERYWHERE. His neck is vanishing behind a thick double chin. Even his hands have started to swell with fat. And is unsympathetic to his problems. Clothes don't fit? He doesn't mind if Stiles waddles around the loft naked. Struggling to get off the couch? That's why he has Derek. Or he shouldn't waste the calories. Derek will bring him more food, why does he need to get up? Or he learns the very hard way that Derek isn't going to let him slim down. He catches Stiles on a walk (not that he is walking very fast or far with his thighs rubbing together and belly slapping against his thighs) and as a punishment, funnel feeds him fattening slop until Stiles is groaning and clutching his stretch-mark ridden belly feeling like he might explode. Derek keeps him funnel fed for the entire week, and Stiles gets a slightly terrifying look into his future....stuffed to bursting, and rapidly getting fatter and fatter. (Not that Derek hides his intentions. He adores grabbing handfuls of Stiles' blubber, calling him pig, hog, glutton, enthusiastically fucking Stiles and telling him he can't wait until Stiles is so damn fat Derek can't find his dick or his hole. But Stiles is so, so near the edge, it's hard to do anything but moan in agreement, tell Derek anything, he'll get as big as he wants, if Derek just lets him come).

[justforbooks]

The American No by Rupert Everett

Ideas pitched by the actor down the years that never got the green light are brilliantly recast here as wry short stories… and a script

Not so long ago, Rupert Everett was sitting outside Bar Italia in Frith Street in Soho when the conga line of Hare Krishnas that frequents this part of London appeared from around a corner, jingling their bells like “transcendental morris dancers”. In days gone by, Everett would sometimes recognise a face en route to nirvana: “club world crashes” of his acquaintance often repaired to the Krishnas’ cafeteria, the better, as he puts it, to swap their methamphetamine for cucumber raita. But on this afternoon, he saw no one familiar until, just as the line was about to disappear again, he suddenly caught sight of a producer he’d last seen at the London office of a Hollywood studio.

“Rupert!” exclaimed this man, tambourine in hand. And then: “Hare, hare, hare!” – words that could hardly have been more doleful in context. The fellow in question, a straight white guy of a certain age, had been fired by the studio and, at a complete loss as to what to do next, had duly taken his place in this apricot-tinged, dhoti-wearing human caravan, eager to help broadcast its message of peace, love and saag aloo. Briefly, the two of them talked of a script of Everett’s – it had been rejected by the same studio – and then the line moved off again, until it was only a “swaying smudge” heading towards Chinatown.

Everett’s account of this encounter appears at the beginning of his new book, and it’s full of kindness, even tenderness (“off he ran, backpack bouncing, tiny ankles in large trainers…”). At this point, you realise, his feeling for failure is a writerly gift, throwing a navy shadow over even his funniest and most scabrous lines, with the result that the reader may not know whether to laugh or to cry. But then, as anyone who has read his three memoirs will know, he’s hardly a stranger to disappointment, its cruelty as familiar to the actor and director by now as wig glue and first-night nerves.

He had the idea for his new book in the long moments after the Hare Krishnas passed by. Feeling somewhat on the scrapheap himself, it occurred to him that he might as well turn a few of the ideas he’d pitched down the years – ideas that never got the green light – into short stories. But what is an “American no”? The collection is named after a term, invented by a pal, for the emotionally evasive but nonetheless brutal way Hollywood types have with those who are in search of a commission. In the flesh, they love-bomb you, telling you how “psyched” they are. Once you’re safely elsewhere, however, you’ll never hear from them again – the American no. As titles go, it’s quite perfect. An uncanny bleakness rises from this book, one that brings to mind not only Scott Fitzgerald and Shirley Conran’s Lace, but also the empty, agonising feeling of having been ghosted by a guy you really liked.

It comprises seven stories and a script (the last of which, extraordinarily, is for a TV series based on Proust’s In Search of Lost Time). One has to do with a Paris funeral gone badly wrong, another with a Russian countess, a third with the deathbed confession of a woman who upped and left for India in the 1850s. But the crazed masterpiece of the collection is a long story – almost a novella – called Cuddles and Associates, about a group of struggling actors in 80s Hollywood and what they’ll do (anything!) to survive. If Netflix doesn’t turn it into six episodes, there’s no justice. Think Succession, only with agents and the threat of straight-to-video hanging over everything like LA smog.

In the end, though, I didn’t read The American No for these stories so much as for the bursts of pure Everett, revealed as he introduces each one. Here he is talking to John Schlesinger about what went on in a certain hotel room during the filming of Midnight Cowboy (“I was in heaven”); and here he is fighting for the rights to Graham Greene’s Travels With My Aunt (“each time I inquire of the hard-headed agent I get the same rebuff, while she distributes Greene’s work with abandon for interesting reinterpretations – I’m being polite – like Brighton Rock”).

My love for Everett’s books is hardly a secret. But still, let me say it again. He is a brilliant writer: opulently gossipy as few are these days, but also truthful, witty, wise and stoical. As soon as I have an opportunity, I’ll be quoting him on why older actors “always” overact, but for now, all I can say is that he’s wasted on those fools who turn him down for parts; who fail to return his calls or to read his scripts. If his talent is unwieldy, there’s also tons of it going spare.

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