#Scott is a good friend

[4525yaoi]

au

[blairpfaff]

アンドリューとの共演について On working with Andrew [x]

[blackhholes]

Teen Wolf as Arthurian Characters

Isaac Lahey as Lancelot du Lac

[wishmasterzz]

even if he didn't get to hear it, I think he'd be alright in the end.

(long ramble under the cut)

so...I feel a little insecure posting this, because I worry that it doesn't convey what I was trying to very well? I've thought a lot about why he might still be upset about this though, and I wanna talk about it a little bit.

Because, all things considered with him being VERY alienated from his peers, I feel like it'd make sense if he just had abandonment and trust issues that he tied back to her in his mind. Of course, they were just kids at the time, so this moreso I'm thinking about what that could've meant to him. And either way, she did still use and exploit him.

this post by @/roboroses puts it into words perfectly, I think. I used that as well as these tags on this post by @/m0th-gh0st as points to sort of incorporate into my thoughts here, as they're both written better than anything I could say on the matter, considering it's an experience I wouldn't firsthand understand.

I've also just had the idea in mind that the demon hipster chicks have probably been big supports in his life for a long time, maybe he had stumbled upon how to summon them at a young age accidentally or something. Either way, I figure they understand him to an extent on the outcast thing, and do their best to be patient with him through his bad moments.

BUT I also kinda think that because of his obsessiveness with who he ties back to the root cause of his abandonment and trust issues, he might take that support and patience a bit for granted at first. I don't think he actually had feelings for Ramona or anything personally, but I do think he loved the idea of having someone there for him for once. Especially someone cool and admired like her, in his eyes.

I don't entirely know if I'm explaining my thoughts well, and I feel like I'm rambling too much, but I hope this makes enough sense for you to understand the initial thought behind this short comic I drew.

AND FOR REAL. READ THE POSTS I LINKED. THEY'RE REALLY GOOD. <3 <3 <3 they put all this into words perfectly, imo.

[patolemus]

Stiles sits in the front row at the funeral.

He’s next to Mellisa, who hasn’t been able to stop crying since she got the news. Stiles’ dad had organized the whole thing, talking with the funerary home and picking up the coffin and the arrangements. He’d only asked Melissa what she wanted on the headstone.

Raphael had showed up the day after. For the first time in his life, he’d looked a mess, hair everywhere and clothes wrinkled as he stormed into the house asking what had happened to his son, tears already gathering in his eyes before he even got a look at Melissa’s face. Stiles hadn’t made fun of him. Stiles hadn’t said anything at all. Raphael sits on Melissa’s other side now, and she grips his hand tight enough it turns white. He hasn’t been back for five years.

God, Scott hadn’t seen his had for five years, and now he’s dead. Scott’s dead.

Stiles thinks it still hasn’t sunk in. He’s in the middle of his best friend’s funeral - it’s closed casket because his body was so mangled up that the EMPs could barely recognize him. Stiles had heard his dad on the phone with one of his deputies talking about it, before he’d realized just whose body they were talking about - and it still hasn’t clicked that Scott won’t be coming out of his casket, that this isn’t some kind of sick practical joke for getting him out of bed the night before school started.

Stiles is not crying. He hasn’t cried once since hearing the news. His dad is crying, sitting on his other side. Scott’s like a second son to him.

Was. Scott was like a second son to him. Was because he’s gone now. Because he’s dead.

Scott’s dead.

His best friend since preschool is dead. His brother is dead. The kindest, most caring person in the world is dead. Stiles goaded him into going to the preserve to look for half a dead body - and God, he’s such an asshole. A dead body? What was he even thinking? - and now Scott doesn’t even get to show his face at his own funeral because whatever killed him barely left any of him to bury.

If only he’d stayed. If only he’d told his dad Scott was with him that night instead of leaving him there. But no, Stiles hadn’t wanted Scott to get grounded because he dragged him out of bed, so he’d kept quiet. Even when he’d seen the pair of red eyes and that— that thing in the corner of his eye. Stiles hadn’t said anything. He thought they’d laugh about it at lunch the next day.

Now Scott’s dead.

Scott is dead.

And Stiles knows exactly what did it.

(He’s going to fucking kill it.)

[peripatetic-rowan]

Leon Scott Kennedy - Resident Evil 4 Remake

[purrvaire]

black sails + shitpost I have on my phone (pt. 4/?)

3

[seawitchkaraoke]

Everyone: omg scarian hug! Omg Ren and Martyn are hanging out!

Me: gaslight, gatekeep and girlboss are back together

[emily-mooon]

Summertime pookies :3

[freakyshibs]

Am I the only one noticing that most of fresh tvs shows are mostly parodies 💀

[zappedbyzabka]

(‘-’*)

So boyfriend

[mrnormy22]

People looking for Bad Friend Scott McCall fics in the Scott McCall tag is WILD.

[cmnzoq]

sciles kiss for @slumop :3

[blackhholes]

-blood marika hackman

we always seem to find each other anyway. even Allison.

[greeenchrysanthemums]

Ooh I love your gg rival au so much! If you wanna can you give us more info about Scott?

Thank you!

Lucky for you, anon, I have been thinking about Scott a lot since that last post I made about him.

He was a very social and outgoing kind of kid, so it was very easy for him to get along with just about anyone. Because of this, he made a lot of friends growing up in The Monopoly. A lot of them came and went over the years due to the nature of the town, though. They never stayed very long, only a few months or a few years at most. He rarely, if ever, seen any of these friends again. It was something that used to weigh on him as a child.

One of these friends was Jimmy, who he is actually still friends with to this day. Jimmy was one of few people who stayed in contact with him after leaving town, sending him letters whenever possible, updating him on his life and telling him fun stories. They were pen pals of sorts, you could say.

Scott does occasionally visit Jimmy and Tango, but not very often and definitely not often enough to be suspicious of him or suspect he has anything to do with the resistance.

-A little bit of behind the scenes for you: I had actually considered writing a scene in the fic where Scott gives Jimmy and Tango a surprise visit in the middle of a resistance meeting. It would have centered around Jimmy trying to keep Scott busy while the others tried to get out of the house without being seen. Scott would become more and more suspicious as Jimmy's attempts to hide the evidence of their meeting became more frantic by the minute. I just couldn't find a place to fit it, though, so it was inevitably scrapped XD

He is very similar to Pearl in the sense that he is afraid that those who get close to him will inevitably leave, and he will never see them again. He, just like Pearl, is terrified of being alone.

He is very reckless and has little regard for his own life. There have been many a time where he has thrown his life on the line for Impulse or Gem and almost died because of it. He values the lives of his loved ones far more than his own, and he is more than ready to sacrifice himself for them.

[edutainer2022]

There's a bit of headcanon backstory of Scott's disastrous trainwreck of a lovelife I always kinda mean to write out (shout out to @janetm74 and @liseylou!). So it features here. Gordon watches celebrity news. Fischler's brother (of all people!) gets married. Nothing goes as planned. Scott is NOT having a good time. Nor has he been for a while. Bereznik gets mentioned. An OC that might be relevant later gets mentioned. The GDF units I think may have IR on the radar get mentioned. Scott has great brothers and good friends. He's still not having a good time.

PAGE SIX

Ever since Kat Kavanaugh buried a hatchet and wasn't chasing conspiracy theories about them on Global Holovision anymore, watching the news live was a once in a blue moon activity in Casa Tracy. They followed the major world events through John and Eos (maybe a bit of social media on a relatively quiet morning), and they were likely to be part of those in some capacity at least a third of the times. Sometimes a half. But it was one of those days. A relative lull in rescues compiled with the exhaustion of the previous fortnight streak of disasters bred mildly numb boredom. Batteries too low to pursue their usual hobbies, they gravitated to the lounge.

Scott was ever at the desk with holo screens full of quarterly budget reports, because their biggest brother did stock market numbers for LEISURE, apparently. Virgil was playing, as usual, but the music was slowly fading to a halt. Alan was gaming, or pretending to be while napping, his VR goggles on. Kayo was going through some specs, half leaning on the couch cushions. Even John was in a quiet lull up in orbit, his hologram just bobbing at the comms unit, hanging out with everybody, but not really a part of any conversation. That left Gordon scrolling lazily through newsreels. The sudden yelp sent Alan tumbling on the floor and Scott at least half an inch closer to a cardiac arrest under thirty. A keen observer would have noticed Kayo reaching for a knife in the ankle holster. The piano music keened on an abrupt note and stopped. Several pairs of VERY unamused eyes stared Gordon down.

The Fish was on his feet already, bursting with excitement, sending the news holo to the center of the lounge.

"Did you guys know Fischler has a brother?!?!"

The assorted grumps and groans across the lounge indicated that they not only didn't know, but weren't in the least thrilled by that information. Only John and Kayo shared a quiet look, because OF COURSE they would know.

Gordon surveyed the lounge in triumph, setting the stage for a punchline.

"He has a brother and he's getting married!"

"Who, Fischler?"

Alan was still scrambling up from his hardwood landing and making a show of rubbing an ouchie. Scott at least looked ready to switch gears to the full "hurt brother!" mode. Gordon was not deterred.

"No, dummy, not Fischer! His brother is getting married!"

"And that's any of our business how?"

Alan was still not ready to relinquish attention from his boo-boo. Not with so many big brothers in attendance. But John, Kayo and Virgil were already sharing concerned LOOKS. Any widely publicized event with cameras rolling and hundreds in attendance, involving Fischler, could potentially turn into a showcase of his latest "invention", or ten. Which would mean potential casualties and work for IR. They would need to be on the look-out and on standby. Scott waved at the comm to get the volume up.

The holo displayed a close pic of a younger and significantly more polished version of Langstrom Fischler, hair sleecked back, but a weaselly smile just a tad on the manic side. The celebrity news anchor was gushing about a "dashing fresh face on the World Senate, a philanthropist and patron of innovation, a devoted brother and a consummate athlete, setting off to be a force of a positive change in the world" and "his drop dead gorgeous fiancée, a once Miss Brazil runner-up, who dedicated herself to the selfless life of service, decorated for honor and courage". The picture on the screen changed for an official GDF snapshot of a tall young brunette in dress blues. The insignia on the collar indicated the rank of Captain and breastplanks - several high ranking awards for valor. The picture changed to a series of candid paparazzi snaps of the "happy couple". The show host droned on with one corny cliche after another about the "match made of dreams" and a " high profile dream wedding" scheduled to take place on a cozy remote island.

Gordon interrupted the stream of saccharine platitudes:

"Huh? How come we're not invited? Scott, you know like everyone in the World Senate!"

But his voice was drowned out by the deafening snap of the metal stylus, broken in Scott's fingers. The sound of the desk chair hitting the floor, as Scott stood up and all but ran from the lounge, was even louder.

"Huh?!"

Gordon, yet again, surmised the bewilderment of everyone present. Virgil was half out to follow Scott, when a ping came through on Gordon's comm. The sign flashed pink.

"Yay! Looks like I'm going after all! Penny needs a plus one! John, can I borrow your tux?!"

John half waved his brother off, brows furrowed and hands already flying over invisible files, when another pink ping came through. It was Kayo's turn for a "Huh?" moment.

"Looks like Penny needs a plus two, as well. I'm invited".

That deflated Gordon's initial excitement enough to notice Virgil leaving in the general direction of Dad's office, where Scott had locked himself. Before he reached the door to try and reason with big brother to talk about... whatever that was, John sent two files to his comm. One - a picture they all saw a hundred times on Dad's desk back in Kansas, but it didn't compute out of context. Scott's Airgroup Wing after a training flight. All hugging and laughing, still in flightsuits. Scott and the girl from the news today - Fischler Jr.'s fiancée - at the center. The other Virgil never saw before. It would figure since it was a screenshot from, what he recognized with some dread, was Dad's old phone. There was a picture sent to a private chat with Dad of the same girl, in a sundress, and Scott in a polo shirt, apparently both on leave. An almost ten years younger Scott was smiling like he could power up a sun. The message to Dad read "SHE SAID YES!!!". The date of the message indicated about a month and a half before Scott's mission to Bereznik. Virgil sank to the floor, leaning on the wall, never going through with the knock on the locked office door.

***

It was such an unbelievable cliché it felt surreal. The thunderstorm, the lightning, the lash of downpour across his face. Then again, it was fitting, as his world was going crashing down around him. Yet again. There was nothing surreal about the hard edges of Mom's ring she just gave him back. For about six weeks he was the happiest man alive. Dad's IR project was well underway, and he was to share that dream not only with Dad and brothers, but with the love of his life. He should have known better... The words were real too - hard and ruthless. About Dad yanking his leash, and expecting nothing but dutifully following in his footsteps and his vision, concealed by his looming shadow, and giving up what they both dreamed about and worked so hard for - test flights, command ranks, career in service. The echo came back to him often, in one dark hour or another, after his world shattered to pieces yet another time. Dad voiced his reservations clearly, but did agree to give him Mom's ring. "When you know, you know". Wasn't it how he and Mom got married? It WAS too soon, they WERE too young, and frateenization within a unit WAS an issue, but with IR lifting off that wasn't to be a problem, once he told her the full scale of the classified project. He should have known better...

He last remembered the ring yanked off his neck with the dogtags chain by a smirking Berezniki guard. He put up a hell of a fight for that and was beaten within an inch of his life. The first time. Next time he found it, inexplicably, in Dad's safe on the island, after the search for Zero-X was called off. He meant to ask Kyrano, as he wasn't conscious or coherent enough for the extraction op, or for months after, but the man never returned his calls anymore, sending in a resignation after half a year of following leads on the Hood. There wasn't much room in his mind or hours in his days to give it more thought for years after. Or more pieces for his heart to break into. He should have known better. And now she was getting married. To someone bright and promising, changing the world for the better, who wasn't him. He should have known better as well. The sound of glass shattering against the wall and a visceral scream finally sent Virgil in, wild-eyed, breaking past the lock.

***

John lifted an eyebrow in a perfect quizzical arch, putting the tablet down, as the "wedding party" poured, or rather, limped into the lounge. Gordon's tuxedo sleeve was torn clear off, his bowtie, undone, served as a makeshift tourniquet. Parker sported cuts, bruises and a glorious shiner. Penelope's elaborate updo was in disarray, one heel of a golden pump broken. Kayo's slip dress hem was torn, exposing a garter holster. As John hurried to the kitchen for the first aid kit, he heard her hiss something to the effect of "You should have seen the other guys".

The villa was quiet. Grandma had Alan on the mainland for the weekend. Virgil chased Scott up the volcano. There was a good chance biggest brother and his stormy mood was best quarantined at the Round House for the rest of the day. John was waiting in the lounge for the fallout, one way or another. He wasn't quite prepared to the sight on display, handing out ice packs.

Gordon hissed too and bit off a curse, as John set about cleaning the bullet graze on his arm.

"Pen, do all your friends whip out a standard issue gun at the altar and read the groom Miranda rights instead of vows?"

Lady Penelope was busy trying to look poised while breaking the second heel off a designer pump, to make them even.

"It was a deep undercover mission to round up a drug and slave trafficking ring. A destination wedding was a most fortunate venue for the occasion."

Kayo looked up from the kitchen isle at that, not pausing to stop extracting a considerable arsenal of throw-knives from her bodice.

"Looks like the Fischler brothers were bankrolled by mafia. The crazy inventions AND the World Senate election. In exchange for some... perks."

Kayo snorted and went back to her inventory of weapons.

Gordon perked up as the anesthetic cream kicked in and forgot to NOT wave the injured hand around to assist his narrative.

"It was actually kinda cool! The bride barked out "Hands up!" instead of "I do"! The bridesmaids all dropped their bouquets and brandished guns. The bridal party were all Organized Crime and Counterterrorism. Well, and us... A little  heads up wouldn't have hurt, Penny. Then all hell broke loose. Rose petals and confetti everywhere. You should have seen Fischler's face!"

Gordon was nearly flailing with excitement, so John's hands pushed him mildly back into the seat. Turquoise eyes found Penelope's line of sight:

"So... no wedding?"

"No wedding indeed."

Up on the Tracy Volcano Virgil's comm vibrated, switched to silent mode hours ago. John's message read "No wedding."

Virgil exhaled a sigh, but didn't yet know how to break the subject with a brother, seated next to him on the sun-warmed boulder, overlooking the ocean. Blue eyes were fixed on a point far away in the distance, or maybe far away in the past, Scott still wouldn't talk about.