#derek son of dopey

[hannahhook7744]

Any headcanons for Derek, son of Dopey?

(And perhaps an answer to why Dopey was the only dwarf to not name his kids after emotions like his brothers?)

Well, Dopey isn't the only one who didn't name his kids after emotions.

Grumpy named one of his sons, Gordon, after all. And though I now can't find the kid, I swear there was a kid named 'Gus' but I could have just used that as a nickname for 'Gesundheit'.

Now, onto the revised Derek headcanons:

His full name is Derek Chico Chavez Cardenas Bergmann.

Yes, it is quite the mouthful and yes he knows that.

He is 5 years older than Doug.

He lives in Charmington with his family and grew up seeing Snow White as his aunt, her husband as his uncle, and her kids (Polly the Parrot, Glauco White, and Sophie) as his cousins.

His mother is a human woman of hispanic descent named Aurelia and (based on the actor of Doug's prospective in this video) she is a gold digger who doesn't really care much for either of her children (I said much not at all), unlike her husband.

He's shorter than Doug but has been described as "a hulk of a dwarf, with rippling muscles."

Derek is a mute like his father, but a selective one.

He like Doug speaks many languages. Mainly Spanish and German, as well as different types of sign language (because he loves learning new languages).

Derek is also one of the few people who can understand can keep up with Doug's science-y talk.

He is a mechanic and is great at engineering as well as weightlifting.

He and Diego fall for one another when they first meet.

He has many hobbies including but not limited to: reading, sports, studying cryptids, occasional sailing, swimming playing cards, and hanging out with his friends.

Gordon gets seasick, which assumes Derek greatly when he's being annoying.

He often helps Li Shang Jr with his rockets and breaks up fights among his cousins and friends as the reluctant peace keeper of the family.

His favorite cousins are Gordon and Raphael/Doc Jr.

He always wins at cards.

His friends are sure he cheats but they aren't sure how he does it.

He used to get so annoyed by his friends not noticing when he was trying to sign to them that he started to carry around a bell so he could shake it when they were arguing.

He does it with his family too.

He went to trade school instead of college. He doesn't regret it at all.

Derek, for obvious reasons, hates apples.

But he does in fact, love gooseberry pie.

He also loves fish soup and Germen-brewed beer (not that he'll tell his parents that, because they'd freak that he's been drinking).

He acts like he doesn't drink but he does occasionally. No one can ever prove it though.

Derek is his mom's favorite (though that isn't saying much) because he's more like her personality and looks wise (a fact he hates).

He has many nicknames—Der, Der Bear, Sneaky, Dwarf Hulk, Buff, Buffy, Muscles, and Flex.

He gets along with pretty much everyone in the family but gets along least with Hap because of how immature and unintentionally cruel he can be.

He hates his full name because of how long it takes for it to be announced at events.

He always carries a pickaxe around with him.

Derek is rather close with Harriet's crew.

He has bad memory just like Doug. In his defense, he has a lot of family members.

Derek is scared of being lost and never found.

When he was a kid, he hide in the woods next to his house to see how long it would take for anyone to notice he was gone.

He doesn't like being told what to do and he really, really doesn't like it when their cousins take their teasing too far with Doug (which, again, is why he fights with Hap more than anyone else).

His birthday is August 23rd, which makes him a Virgo.

He knows how to sew.

He has no allergies unlike Doug who has the misfortunate of having dust and pollen allergies.

Li Shang Jr is Derek's best friend.

He helps the vks with their panic attacks quite often. He's quite good at it.

He and Doug are the closest to Snow White out of all the dwarves and their kids. Not that that's surprising.

Derek has twentyish direct cousins—Jane, Gordan, Gus, Sniffles, Nighty, Snot, Hap, Doc the Second, Crabby, Cheerful, Sleepy Jr, Snoozy, Bashful Jr, Shy, Gesundheit, Maddy/Madison, Snappy, Grouchy, Joy, Smiley, Giggles, Bossy/Unity, and Sneezy Jr.

But he also has a lot more extended family members other than his uncle's from his dad's family (look up the scrapped dwarves. He has alot of family lol).

[colethewolf]

On @thrillhoues ‘ idea:

Derek tries to have a conversation on the phone, but he knows his son too well. Eli can barely keep his head up to look at the camera, and when Parrish tugs on the boy’s long hair, Derek sees an all too familiar dopey grin on his face and green eyes rolled back. He orders Parrish to pick his son’s phone, and asks why are they doing it in the middle of the road, but deep down he understands the urge. As long as the boy gets home safe, he can pump hellhound jizz until the boy bloats; and if he does, Derek offers his own hole for the deputy later that week.

I love how understanding Derek would be about hot supernatural guys wanting to bang his twink son

[devilsanddarlings]

❛ do we have some time for us? ❜ (To Evie from Derek )

@acourtcfmuses

“Not as much as I’d like. I have a client fitting in a few minutes,” the witch sighed, looking a bit stressed and unhappy. Doug had been one of her first friends at Auradon, but somewhere along the line Derek’s younger brother had developed a crush on her that put Evie on edge. Dopey’s youngest son seemed to be everywhere she went all of the time lately, and the bluenette had no idea how to even broach the subject with Derek without upsetting him. But it was becoming abundantly clear that she would need to and soon, because the thought of giving Doug a poison apple in order to make him back off was starting to look like a perfectly reasonable solution. “But can I talk to you about something important for a second before I go?”

[harrison-abbott]

Our Only Kid

My son Derek dropped out of high school.

I didn’t blame him. Because that was something I did too when I was around his age, and I went on to achieve other things.

Derek flunked in April. And then it turned into May and then June. I suggested that Derek might get a summer job? So he could have a bit of money on him? He’d never had a job before. And I had a buddy who was manager of a warehouse, who said he could get Derek a role packing boxes, if he wanted it?

“Okay, sounds good,” Derek said, when he was lying on the sofa watching TV.

Derek was supposed to go there for ten a.m. the next day, to meet up with Phil, my buddy. Was pretty much guaranteed a job.

I got home the next evening and Derek was lying on the sofa with a sci fi film blaring on the screen.

“Hey, Derek?” I said to him.

“Hey.”

“How’d your meeting with Phil go?”

“Huh?”

“How did it go with Phil this morning?”

“Oh. I slept in. Didn’t make the meeting. Sorry.”

“That’s no good, Derek.”

“I know. I mucked up, sorry.”

“Well, did you tell Phil about that? Did you apologise to him?”

“Yeah I sent him a text.”

“Well are you going to see him again?”

“Nah. I don’t think I’d be good in a warehouse job. I’m not that strong. But I can get something else.”

It got to July, and he still hadn’t gotten anything else.

His mother and I were heading off on holiday to Barcelona. We told Derek he could stay here by himself. And that he could have mates around if he wanted. But he needed to keep the place clean. Do the bins each week, etc etc. We were headed away for a fortnight. I was a bit wary about leaving him for two weeks on his own. We did it anyway.

When we touched down in Barcelona I messaged him to tell him we got there okay. Derek didn’t respond for two days. And I got worried about him. When it’s supposed to be the people at home who are worried about the travellers. So I finally called him on messenger and he answered, with a dopey face – I’d probably just woken him up.

“Hi Dad,” he muttered, “yeah, I’m all good. House is all fine. How is Spain?”

I asked him to keep online in case we needed to speak to him. He said yeah, sure thing, no problem.

There was no response from him for another three days, and by that final night I called him again. He ignored the call, but gave a thumbs up, and typed “I’m still alive.”

It was quite annoying because I was trying to enjoy this famous city and there was my seventeen year old kid at home making me angsty. But I kept trying to license his behaviour by remembering how dumb and immature I was at that age.

When I was seventeen I was heavily disturbed. I did all sorts of odd things to people that had meddled with me in high school. Bullies who were in my year. I’d find out where they lived. And I would leave things in their gardens. Signs, to spook them. The teachers as well. There was this mean physics teacher who picked on me in class. I found out his telephone number. And would sneak along to the phone booth up the road, at night, and call his house. I did that quite a few times.

“Who are you?” I remember him saying. The physics teacher – he was scared, but angry as well. “Who are you! You’re not allowed to be doing this. And I can call the police about it! Stop calling my house in the morning – you creep – you’re waking my family up!”

I’ll admit that I enjoyed the fear in his voice.

I’ve never told anybody these stories.

My wife and I went around the cathedrals and we dined out and we developed tans. It all ended too quickly and then we were flying back home. On the journey back, whilst we were up in the clouds above the continent, my wife turned and said to me,

“Do you think we should be worried about Derek?”

I thought how to answer. Hadn’t been expecting the question. Derek was our only kid, and I still wasn’t sure whether I’d been a good father to him.

“He might be going through a tricky period,” I said to her, “but we can’t fret about him just yet.”

And I wanted to add, just then, ‘And I was way more fucked up than him when I was seventeen.’

But I hesitated and never said anything.

[acourtcfmuses]

❔

send ❔ and i’ll list a couple muses that i’d like to throw at yours!

Steve Rogers - Coulson, Thor

Bucky Barnes - Natasha, Wanda

Natasha Romanoff - Yelena, Melina, Alexei

Wanda Maximoff - Pietro, Loki

Pepper Potts - Matt, Melinda May

Morgan Stark - Darcy, Mia (I know she’s DC but heroes kids sticking together)

Allison Grant - Jemma, Druig

David Nolan - Emma, Hook, Neal

Mary Margaret Blanchard - Emma, Hook, Neal, Derek (my Dopey OC son)

Emma Swan - Hook, Neal

Regina Mills - Emma, Hook, Malecifent

Henry Mills - Emma, Hook, Neal

Graham Humbert - Emma

Neal Cassidy - Emma, Hook, Harriet

Robin Hood - Emma, Hook, Neal, Calder

Ariel Triton - Emma, Hook, Neal

[thefandomwarriorlexy]

Who would you love to see come to light in Descendants? From the Descendants novels and why?

Hmmm, this most definitely won’t happen, and it would wreck all my headcanons, but Hadie. He’s Mal’s brother, I want to see him! I also heard someone say he was retconned after D3, and he isn’t mentioned in the 4th Isle book, so I wanna know if he still exist •-•

Harriet would be a good option, honestly. They could have a “new” Hook kid without her actually being new. Plus, she could have more of a main role like her siblings. 

Aziz would be cool, since he was originally going to be in the first movie. 

Lastly, Li’l Shang and Derek. Don’t think I have a reason other than it’d be cool to see Lonnie’s and Doug’s brothers. Also, canon face claims. 

Although, it’d be pretty sweet if they put any of the book characters in the movie. 

[winterscaptain]

when you wake up.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i’m a sucker for protective aaron, alright? sue me. i have checked and double checked, but if i’ve messed up any gender-neutralisms, please let me know! i’d like to thank snow, the academy, and my welbutrin for their spiritual aid as i write these fics at an alarming rate rating/words: teen / 2642 warnings: canon-typical injury, swearing, kissing 

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

“You know –“ you gasped, grimacing through the pain, “blood is a bitch to get out of a wool blend.”

Aaron pressed his lips together, his forearms flexing as he staunched the bleeding from the gunshot wound in your shoulder with his gorgeous navy pinstripe blazer.

That one was my favorite, you thought with a pout.

He had you propped against a wall, his shirt splattered with your blood. He had torn the collar of your shirt for better access to your wound, and your vest was entirely forgotten on the floor beside you. Emily called the paramedics about seven minutes prior, but the backroads of Montana were not conducive to prompt medical service.

The pain wasn’t unbearable, and surely you’d been through worse.

Shock is a hell of a drug.

Nevertheless, his concern was touching. It had been a while since either one of you were injured – long before you realized you had feelings for each other and did absolutely nothing about it.

It all happened so fast – you had your gun trained on the unsub, who was using the sixth almost-victim as a shield. As soon as Derek and Aaron threw the back door open, he’d shoved the frightened young woman toward Derek and moved really quickly.

Bang. Ouch. Fuck.

“Aaron.”

He didn’t respond and was dutifully ignoring your eyes, focused entirely on the blood gushing through his fingers under your shoulder blade. The hand attached to your injured arm wrapped around his bicep, your fingers clinging to the fabric of his sleeve.

“I’m fine,” you continued. “It’s through and through. Six weeks tops I’ll be back to my old tricks.” 

You brought your other hand to his hair, and he leaned into your touch almost unconsciously. Your thumb smoothed over the hair at his temple, where tiny silver streaks rested in the inky black. You were just teasing him about his greys last week.

“They make you look distinguished!” You insisted. You were behind him as he sat at his dining room table, helping Jack set the table for dinner while Aaron tried (in vain) to review a consult.

“They make me look old,” he retorted in a deadpan.

You raked your fingers through the hair at his temples, massaging his scalp all the way to the crown of his head. He leaned back, his hand relaxing around his pen. With a final pat to the top of his head, you stepped away and returned to the pasta sauce.

“No old man would cook as badly as you do.”

His withering glare made his son laugh out loud, and the look only grew darker as you offered Jack a high-five.

“You’re still losing a lot of blood.” His voice was low and tense, his jaw tight.

Derek hovered nearby, though Aaron had shooed him away minutes earlier. He was talking into the comm, likely getting status updates from EMS.

Offering Derek a weak smile, you let your hand drop to Hotch’s wrist. Your eyes were heavy, but you fought to keep them open. Falling unconscious now would only worry him more.

“Aaron, you need to breathe.”

He huffs, and it’s almost a laugh but there’s no humor in it. “You’re telling me to breathe?”

“I’m breathing just fine.” And you were, focused only on the feel of his hands on your skin and the slow, deep breaths you took to keep your oxygen levels high as your blood pressure dropped. “Breathe with me, please. It’ll make me feel better.” That was a low blow, but you were pulling every card you had to keep him from breaking his teeth with that clenched jaw.

God, you were just so tired.

Aaron’s brown eyes flickered up to yours and softened. He leaned forward, shifting his weight and wrapping an arm around you as sirens faintly wailed some distance away. “Lean into me. It’s okay. You can sleep. I’ve got you.”

You were cheek-to-cheek when you finally passed out, succumbing to the heaviness.

+++

When you woke up, your shoulder ached, and the lights were way too bright.

There was a weight dipping the mattress on your left side and a dark shadow on your right.

You lifted your head slightly to see Aaron fast asleep, his head resting on his arms. You smiled and redirected your attention to your right. The dark shadow was Emily, watching you with a soft smile.

“Hey, champ.”

“Hey Em.”

She gestured to Aaron with her chin. “He hasn’t left once.” There was an implication behind her words, something not-quite suggestive, but understanding.

You ignored it for now. “How long was I out?” You brought your hand to Aaron’s tense shoulder, relaxing there, your thumb tracing back and forth over his baby blue button-down. Your IV line pulled a little, and you retracted your hand to his bicep.

“About two days. Surgery went really well – they just had to patch up a couple of ligaments and set a few pins in your clavicle. Nothing shattered, and no fragments. All things considered, really clean shot.”

Not as bad as I thought.

“He’s been here the whole time? Are we still in Montana? What day is it?”

Emily laughed, smiling broadly. “So many questions!” She counted off on her fingers. “His ass has only left that chair to chase down your doctor and go to the bathroom like...twice. We are still in Montana. It’s Tuesday. We’ll be on our way home as soon as you’re discharged. We wouldn’t leave without you.”

You sighed, adjusting your position on the bed. “Thanks.”

She winked. 

Hotch stirred, and Emily stood.

“I’ll leave you two for now. We’re all out in the waiting room if you want to see anyone.” She kissed your forehead and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

You could see the exact moment he registered your hand on his shoulder. He startled, straightening faster than you could blink. His eyes still bleary from sleep, you watched as he took stock of your entire person, finally meeting your eyes.

“Hi, Hotch.”

“Hi.” He reached for your hand with both of his, careful of the IV in your forearm. He brought your linked hands to his lips - warm, relieved breath washing over your fingers.

You squeezed once, feeling the stress and worry in his grip. “I’m okay.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I got shot.” Your voice was soft, but the humor behind it was unmistakable.

He huffed a laugh against your hands. “I should be mad at you.”

“You aren’t?”

Just then, a twinge in your shoulder made you wince. Your face crinkled up before you could hide it.

Hotch immediately reached for the call button, his body arcing gracefully over yours, pressing it twice. He looked down at you from under his arm. “No, I’m not.”

The nurse came in, said something about how nice it was to see you awake, and administered some more pain medication. She worked around Hotch, who never let go of your hand.

You had your eyes on him the whole time. His hawkish brown eyes tracked everything – the dosage, the IV drip – until the nurse left the room.

Right away, you started feeling heavy, your eyes slipping closed. “I don’t - I don’t wanna sleep,” you mumbled.

The back of Hotch’s hand traced the line of your cheek in a gentle caress. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt his touch fall down your good arm and wind your fingers together. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You should get s’m sleep.”

You weren’t sure if it was the haze of meds or not, but you could swear you felt kisses to each one of your fingertips before you slipped into unconsciousness once more.

+++

When you woke again, he was still there. He was kicked back in the recliner this time, a book in his lap and reading glasses perched on his nose. It was dark outside, and you surmised you’d been asleep for a couple of hours.

“Since when do you wear reading glasses?” Your voice was rough with sleep.

Hotch snatched the glasses in question off his nose and folded them into his collar. “I don’t, usually, but the fluorescents are hard on my eyes after a while.”

You nodded sagely before breaking out into a smile. He offered you one back, one of those sweet, crooked, closed-mouth tip-ups.

Those might be my favorite.

You shifted, scooting over in the hospital bed and raising the head with the remote so you could sit up with more ease. Hotch stood, and you could tell he was trying to give you space as you independently adjusted your surroundings.

You patted the bed next to your hip, and he gingerly sat beside you, crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. He probably didn’t realize, but his entire body was bowed toward you, from his toes to his shoulders. You had always been tuned to each other, like finely-made instruments.

There was so much to say, so much unsaid. This injury was pretty far from a near-death experience, but it was enough to screw your head on straight a little bit.

“Aaron, I --“ You stopped, not sure where to begin. You rested a hand on the knee within your reach, tracing absentminded circles on the grain of his jeans.

Almost three days in the hospital and he’s still wearing jeans.

Well...at least it’s not a suit.

“Why did you stay?” Your words left you without your permission, but maybe it was better that way.

His brow lowered. “It’s my job.”

Your lips tipped up in a small, wry smile. “Bullshit.”

He heaved a sigh. “Fine. I felt...compelled to make sure you were alright.” His eyes were cast down toward the heavy white blanket beneath him. “Every time I got up to leave, I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you knowing you could wake up and I wouldn’t be there.”

You were acutely aware of the dopey grin on your face.

He looked up at you. “It doesn’t make any sense I know –“

“Aaron.” You stopped him with four fingers pressed to his mouth. It was the first time you’d actually instigated contact with his mouth. You felt the stubble that was rapidly turning into a proper beard, but you were focused on the softness of his mouth. You softened, letting your hand relax against him. “It makes sense to me.”

There was silence for a moment. You just stared at each other, your hand still over his mouth. You were glad your heart rate stayed steady, as the beeping was one of the only sounds in the room.

“Hey, Aaron?” Your fingers weren’t really tracing his lips, but they weren’t...not doing that either.

He smiled and spoke from behind your fingers. “Yeah?”

“The spot between my shoulders is insanely itchy.”

He shook his head, exasperated, and pulled your fingers from his mouth. “Lean up for a second.”

You did, and he pulled a pillow from behind you and put it in your lap. You wrapped your good arm around it and ducked your head down. His fingers massaged across your good shoulder and neck, releasing some of the tension there.

He laughed aloud when you made a (frankly) obscene noise when he hit a particularly sore spot.

“You’re giving my physical therapist a run for his money, Aaron.”

“Good.”

He moved down underneath the sling strap, gently running his nails back and forth over the skin peeking through your hospital gown. It was heaven.

“Okay, you can’t ever stop doing that.”

He continued, scratching lightly up and down your spine “I’m here as long as you want me here, sweetheart.”

The endearment made your heart feel all fuzzy, and you relaxed further into the pillow, your body relaxing as the tension melted out of your back.

He stopped after a few minutes, just smoothing his hand back and forth along the left side of your back. “Feeling better?”

“Much, thank you,” you said, leaning back against the pillows.

He brushed some hair away from your face and hesitated there for a moment. Your jaw fit a little too neatly in his hand. You licked your lips, finding your mouth suddenly dry.

“Y/N...” he said, still quiet.

You shook your head and leaned forward at the same time he did. You met halfway, and he captured your lips with a relieved sigh. He was so careful with you, considering your injury, one hand reaching from your jaw to the side of your head, the other resting on your thigh on top of the thin hospital blanket.

The faded smell of his cologne or deodorant or something very masculine swirled around you. It was a smell you could identify anywhere – something spicy and earthy and Aaron.

Your noses slid against each other as you pulled apart to grin at each other. He pulled you back toward him and your lips met again. Your breath caught as his tongue traced your lower lip. You granted him access, ignoring the embarrassing spike in your heart rate that sent the monitors into a frenzy.

A part of you absolutely wanted to jump him then and there, but between your shoulder and the big window facing out into the hallway, that was a no-go.

You settled for devouring him from where you were instead, taking his lips between your teeth until he was groaning into your mouth. His hands knotted in your hair and you twisted his shirt in your hand. You didn’t think too much about the fact you’d been asleep for two days and therefore had two days of morning breath. The only thing on your mind was the taste of coffee on Aaron’s tongue, the hand planted firmly on your thigh, and the surprising softness of his lips.

It’s not that you thought he’d be a bad kisser, but fuck he was good at it. Almost too good. You craved more and damned your shoulder (again) for keeping you tethered to this bed and unable to wrap him in your arms.

“God,” he whispered into your mouth. “I was so scared I was going to lose you.”

You laughed into him, nipping at his lip again. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

There was a desperate edge to his touch as he took your face between his hands and pulled back to look at you. He kissed you once. Twice. So gently you almost couldn’t feel it. “I’m never getting rid of you,” he said. “Not now, not ever.”

It took you a couple of seconds to open your eyes again. When you did, the warm brown of Aaron’s eyes sank into you, and you almost forgot you’d been shot less than 72 hours prior. “Am I nuts to tell you how much I love you when I’m hopped up on pain meds?”

He shook his head, a thousand-gigawatt smile eating up his whole face. You cupped his jaw in your hand, pressing your thumb into one of his dimples. He tenderly covered your hand with his and turned to press an achingly gentle kiss your palm. “Only a little,” he said. He guided you back onto the pillows, arranging them around you so you could sleep without jostling your shoulder.

The nurse bustled back in and asked after your pain level. You said seven (it was a lie, you’d give it a nine and a half if you weren’t trying to be a hero), and she administered another round of meds. She swept out of the room and your eyes started to close again.

“Aaron...” you whispered, clinging to the last dregs of consciousness.

A kiss to your forehead. Warm breath over your fingers.

If safety had a texture, it would be somewhere between the callouses on his hands and the cool cotton of his dress shirts.

“I’m here.” A pause. “Hey.”

You cracked an eyelid.

“I love you too, by the way.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans

[mrspasser]

Amanita - a story in the Anchor verse

If you haven’t read the two previous stories in the Anchor verse, I’d suggest you start there. You can read it on Wattpad or A03.

But I guess you can also go ahead and read this story without reading the first two parts. All you have to know is that a rogue Alpha bit Stiles and he turned into a werefox.

This story was inspired by this: wild fox eats amanita

Amanita

Stiles is naked as the day he was born, exactly 18 years ago today. It's not that Derek hasn't seen his packmate - his mate - naked before, but it was never under these circumstances. Not with Stiles practically humping his leg in the backyard of his parental home, at his own birthday party, with his father, Melissa and the rest of the pack watching from a few feet away. The teen is still partially shifted and Derek guesses the big, bushy tail covering most of his ass is a small blessing. The ears are cute too, they're Derek's favourite part of Stiles' werefox form. He's less partial to the hard, pointy nails that are scratching the skin on his stomach, where Stiles is feeling him up underneath his shirt.

"Hey, big guy." Stiles sounds surprisingly sultry. He's tried it before, trying to seduce Derek into more - much more - than the chaste kisses they share, as if there is no such thing as statutory rape or a father who owns more than one gun. And wolfsbane bullets. "Want to go to my room and have hot, steamy birthday sex with me?" He drives the point home with a trail of wet kisses along his Alpha's jawline.

"I swear, Sheriff, I haven't - We haven't..." Derek argues helplessly, trying to keep Stiles' still slightly furry hands out of his pants without being too obvious about it. As if there's still a slight chance the sheriff won't see that Stiles is trying to wriggle his hands down the front of Derek's jeans. Thank God he wore his tightest jeans today.

The sheriff, or Noah, as he keeps reminding Derek to call him, rolls his eyes. "Believe me, son, I know. Stiles has been complaining about that. Loudly. Repeatedly."

Derek winces, locking Stiles' wrists in one hand and manhandling him so he's tucked firmly against Derek's side, his arm looped around him to hold him in place. "I'm sorry, Sir."

Noah waves a hand, as if to say it's all water under the bridge. Maybe it is, the man is used to his son's antics after all. "Any ideas on how to deal with this?"

This is Stiles who came bounding into the yard at breakneck speed, tripping over practically nothing and shifting back partially when he did some sort of summersault before he came to a stop at their feet, sprawled across the lawn and dissolved in giggles. He was followed by the other werewolves at a more normal speed, all of them in their human form - as they should be in a rural area in broad daylight. It took a surprisingly short time for everyone to see that Stiles' behaviour was more erratic than usual and that the control over his limbs was practically non-existing. Except when he spotted Derek and decided to clamp himself to his Alpha like an overgrown and rather horny barnacle.

Stiles pays his father no mind, he's more focussed on rubbing his nose along Derek's throat, his favourite way of scenting his Alpha. He usually takes care of doing it somewhere more private, or at least not in front of the sheriff or the whole pack. Stiles hums contentedly, his scent a heady mixture of arousal and happiness.

Erica giggles.

Isaac shrugs. "He ran off into the bushes."

"I'm not sure," Derek answers, moving his neck out of Stiles' reach as best as he can while still holding his young mate in place. There's something hot and hard pressing against his thigh; it'd be best if Stiles didn't show that to their audience.

He uses his free hand to grab hold of Stiles' chin to keep his head still. Stiles complies, looking up at Derek with a dopey smile. The honey gold of his eyes has almost completely disappeared, his pupils as big as saucers. He's clearly having a reaction to something, but Derek has a hard time telling what it is. There's no trace in his scent of a foreign substance and there's no sign of recent wounds or other trauma. He just smells like earth and the forest, all familiar scents.

Derek looks over at the small group of werewolves who went with Stiles into the forest behind the house for a game of tag. Scott is the only one who looks a little worried, the others seem to find the whole thing rather amusing. If he wasn't sure that Stiles is mostly alright, he'd be furious at them. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"He was cheating. Again." Jackson stifles a yelp when Lydia elbows him in the side. Hard. "What? He was! He knows we can't follow him when he dives into the underbrush."

Scott suggests calling Deaton and with very little other options available Derek agrees. Scott gets a hold of his boss fairly quickly, yet the vet informs them he's at a conference out of town. He is willing to help over the phone, so they describe their situation as detailed as they can. Deaton asks the obvious questions, asking the wolves if there are any signs of wolfsbane poisoning or magic, as well as checking if Stiles has head trauma or even a stomach ache.

In his fox form Stiles is a lot smaller than the Betas, which he uses to his advantage often. He's faster in a short sprint too, more agile. Jackson is the only one who comes close to keeping up with him, which he takes pride in. So of course that pride hurts when Stiles takes a route where the much larger werewolf can't follow him. Jackson is competitive, even in a game of tag.

Unfortunately, none of his Betas can tell him what happened to their packmate. They lost sight of Stiles for a few minutes, but they could still hear him rooting around in the bushes and none of them heard, saw or smelled anything that could explain why Stiles wasn't exactly in his right mind at the moment.

"Wait a second!" Melissa steps forward, putting her hand on Stiles' shoulder so he will look at her. He does, though he keeps his head resting on Derek's shoulder. It's a step up from where he was actively trying to get into Derek's pants, so he lets Stiles cuddle him to his heart's content. "Stiles, honey? Did you eat something while you were out in the forest?"

It's not an odd question. Fox Stiles loves blackberries. He has scratched up his snout more than once on the prickly bushes. He also found a nest with eggs once, a memorable event that human Stiles mourned later and he made Derek promise to keep him away from bird's nests when he was shifted.

Over speaker phone, Deaton speaks up in interest. "Were there any fungi in the area where you lost sight of Stiles?"

"Any what?" Isaac looks puzzled for a moment and so does Scott.

"Mushrooms, or toadstools," Lydia clarifies impatiently.

"Did he eat magic shrooms?" Erica perks up in interest, a large grin growing on her face.

The sheriff sighs deeply and palms his face. "Are you telling me my son is high?"

"He very well could be," Deaton states calmly over the phone. "Some mushrooms are poisonous, though the effects of it can vary from species to species. Certain toadstools have hallucinogenic properties that foxes sometimes go looking for."

"Foxes eat mushrooms to get high?" Erica guffaws, delighted by the information. The other Betas snicker behind their hands. Stiles will not hear the last of this anytime soon.

Scott eyes his friend curiously, kindly ignoring how Stiles currently uses Derek as an overly large teddy bear. "I think I saw some of those large toadstools around, you know, the pretty red ones with the white dots."

"Amanita or Fly Agaric," Deaton confirms over the phone. "I wouldn't be surprised if Stiles ate some of those."

Derek finds himself agreeing with the vet. It would explain Stiles' loopy behaviour perfectly. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," is the unsatisfying answer. "If his stomach isn't upset and he doesn't show more worrying signs of being poisoned besides his current odd behaviour, I'd just wait it out. It'll be out of his system soon enough." The vet says his goodbyes and hangs up to get back to his conference.

Melissa doesn't have any other ideas either. "If he were fully human he would have to get his stomach pumped, but I guess foxes don't have that problem. He seems okay, if a bit overly affectionate." She says the last with a fond smile that borders on outright amusement.

"So we do nothing?" Derek asks nobody in particular, running a comforting hand over Stiles' bare back. He doesn't have to hold him that tight anymore, the boy keeps himself plastered to Derek's side well enough.

"I'd put some pants on him," the sheriff suggests dryly, arching his brows.

The young man pouts, the fox ears drooping accordingly. "Are you angry with me, Alpha?"

With red dusted high on his cheeks Derek ushers Stiles inside the house. Erica catcalls at the display of pale skin, still laughing too hard to pull off a decent wolf whistle. Derek doesn't dare take Stiles up to his bedroom, not in the teen's current mental state. While he doesn't really mind keeping Stiles' handsy behaviour within the bounds he set for them, he prefers to keep things between them somewhat private. And with a whole pack of werewolves right outside the house, privacy is something of a pipe dream. Sure, the pack knows there is something going on between Derek and Stiles, hell, even the sheriff knows. Derek is still slightly surprised he hasn't been shot, though he suspects his persistence to keep things above board between them has something to do with it.

Luckily, the Stilinski's have a laundry nook in their mud room, so they don't have to go far to find some pants. Stiles throws his arms around his Alpha's neck as soon as they're inside, pushing him up against the wall and swallowing Derek's half-hearted protest in a kiss. He gives in for a moment, returning the kiss before he slides his hands up from Stiles' waist to his arms, wrapping his hands arounds the boy's wrists to pull them free. "Stiles," he warns.

Derek raises his eyes to the ceiling, letting his head thunk back against the wall. What has he done to deserve this? He has to pull the strength from his toes, but he manages to fix Stiles with a mostly stern glare. "You shouldn't go running off on your own," he chastises, trying to sound firm.

"No," Stiles agrees, blinking up sweetly at Derek and valiantly trying to climb inside the older man. "I wanna stay with you."

"Only when you put on pants." Derek reaches with one hand to the laundry basket that sits on top of the washer behind Stiles. There's something grey and soft sticking out of it and it's a pair of sweatpants like he hoped. He pushes them at Stiles until the boy gives up trying to cuddle him and takes the pants from his Alpha. The fox tail sits in the way of Stiles pulling up the pants all the way. Considering his current state, Derek would prefer it if Stiles is covered up properly. He runs his hands over Stiles' pointy ears, smoothing them down. "Can you concentrate for me and shift back? You forgot to put these away." He can't help but smile when the ears pop back up as soon as they're free of his hands.

Stiles smiles back, mimicking Derek and cupping his hands around Derek's face. "I like your face, Derek. It's a nice face."

"You're so high," Derek chuckles.

Stiles sighs happily, petting Derek's stubble. "High on love."

Surely Derek has endured enough trauma in his past to deserve a suddenly and miraculously soundproof mud room so no werewolf ears outside catch that little tidbit. The people around them may know there is something between them, but they don't know that Stiles is Derek's mate. Stiles himself doesn't even know that, although Derek doesn't expect to be able to keep it from him much longer. However, because of all that there is most certainly love between them, though Derek is only sure of his own thoughts and feelings on the subject. It brings him great joy to hear Stiles use the word, yet the situation they're in puts a damper on it. "Stiles, you're not thinking clearly."

The boy blows him a raspberry.

"Eloquent," Derek mutters. He pulls himself together and urges Stiles to shift back so he can get fully dressed. It takes a while and Derek has to endure his young mate nosing around his throat thoroughly before the last of the fox traits disappear. It's iron willpower and the presence of the sheriff and the pack right outside that help him refrain from saying fuck it and claiming his mate right then and there. That, and the notion that fucking on top of a washing machine is a little too much like a porno script, especially when someone can walk in at any moment. He's not gonna allow Stiles to experience his first time anywhere else than in a comfortable bed. Derek's bed, preferably.

"Come on, let's get you something to drink." He tugs the birthday boy with him by his wrist. Stiles doesn't mind, he just wraps his other hand around Derek's and curls around his arm. At least now he's dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Outside, the others have left them a seat. One seat: the large deckchair Derek was sitting in earlier. The mild weather allowed for a birthday party outside, so everything is set up for a barbecue. The sheriff lit the thing while they were inside getting Derek's patience tested and Stiles dressed. Stiles likes to sit close to him on normal days, so it would be foolish to expect the boy to sit by himself now he's all drugged up and affectionate. At least the boner situation has dissolved.

"Aww, the furry ears are gone," Erica laments when Derek and Stiles get seated with Stiles in Derek's lap. "I love those ears."

"Derek loves 'm too," Stiles pipes up. He slurs a little, so it sounds a lot like he says 'Derek loves me too'. Several pairs of eyes light up with mirth in reaction.

Scott pats Stiles' knee genially. "Sure he does, buddy. We all do."

"Here, drink something." Melissa hands Stiles a large glass of water with a straw in it. Derek has to help him hold it, which means he has a front row seat to Stiles trying to wrap his lips around the straw. He uses his tongue to catch the thing, rather unsuccessfully.

"For fuck's sake," Derek groans and quickly holds the straw still for Stiles. It results in Stiles catching not only the straw in his mouth, but his fingertips too. It's torment, truly.

Noah puts the dishes in the sink and walks over to his son, running a loving hand over his hair. "He used to fall asleep on his birthday when he was younger too, tired from bouncing around all day." He looks over his shoulder to Derek. "Would you carry him upstairs? He's quite a bit heavier than he was when he was nine."

After two more glasses of water and some food from the grill, Stiles' mind starts to clear. He doesn't move from Derek's lap though, content to snuggle and watch the others talk until his bladder finally demands him to get up and go to the bathroom. It says a lot about how much he sobered up already when he didn't even ask Derek to go with him.

Of course Derek gets up to check on him when he's still not back fifteen minutes later. The sheriff follows him inside the house, some dirty dishes in his hands. They find Stiles in the kitchen, asleep at the table with his head pillowed on Derek's leather jacket. He left it hanging over a chair when he got here earlier today.

The werewolf slides his hands underneath the boy's shoulders and knees and carefully carries him to his bedroom. With just the T-shirt and sweats he's wearing, he can put him in bed right away.

Stiles wakes up a little when Derek tucks him in. "Der?"

"I'm here," Derek shushes, sitting down on the edge of the bed and running a hand through Stiles' hair much like the sheriff had done. "Go back to sleep. You had enough excitement for today."

Stiles nuzzles into the touch, humming contently. "Love you," he mumbles. A moment later he's fast asleep again.

A small smile plays on Derek's lips. He gently cups Stiles' head, running his thumb over his cheek. "I love you too," he whispers.

<3

[wittyrosebush]

Dare

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Summary: As Tony Stark's assistant, you must always expect the unexpected. What you didn't expect was him asking you to play a game with his co-workers.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Mega fluff, alcohol, brief swearing, embarrassment (idk if that counts but I'm putting it), Tony Stank being a lil shit, Steve being oblivious

Word Count: 1641

Date Posted: 10/20/2020

A/N: Hey! Sorry this is unedited, mostly because I'm writing this at 4 am. But if anyone wants to be an editor shoot me a message. This is my 2nd fic for America's ass, but I do other characters, too! I apologize for the bad pun that Mr. Stank makes, me being very wordy, and the crappy ending.

Hope you all enjoy!

You walked into Avengers tower wearing jeans and a sweater, which was much more different than the usual blouse and skirt you wore on workdays. Even though it was your day off, you received a message from your boss, Tony Stark:

Come to the tower at 7 o'clock sharp, you definitely wouldn't want to miss this. And dress casual ;)

You had shrugged off the strange invite, expecting him to show you a new gadget he and Dr. Banner had produced. But you secretly hoped to see Steve Rogers. You've had a small crush on the super soldier since you began working for Tony, and seeing him often at the tower every day only made it worse. He would give you a smile and wave whenever you passed him in the halls as you strictly kept your head down to hide your flustered expression.

As you looked around the entrance you saw the star spangled man jog towards you after hoping off the last step of the stairs. He wore a dark blue button up shirt, black pants, and that smile that made your heart swell. Before you could walk away and pretend to be there for a different reason he waved at you. Because you were raised to be a polite person you waved back, and that was your downfall. Now he knew that you saw him so you would have to talk to him.

After mumbling a string of curses to yourself, the male was now standing in before you, lightly panting, “Hey, Y/N, Stark sent me to bring you up to the living quarters for game night.”

You quirked an eyebrow, taken aback, “Game night? Why would Mr. Stark invite me?”

Steve put his hands in his pockets as a pink hue came to his cheeks, “I’m not sure, but I’m glad you’re here.” You couldn’t tell if his face was red because he ran down the stairs or if your presence had flustered him. Either way you raised a hand over your mouth to hide the dopey smile that was forming on your face.

“Thank you, Mr. Rogers, but we should probably start heading up.” You nervously chuckled. Steve regained his normal posture and stiffly nodded and started walking towards the stairs.

Right as he was about to take the first step up he felt you put a soft hand on his shoulder and froze. “Why don’t we take the elevator? Its probably quicker,” you smiled at him as you spoke and gestured towards the elevator.

“That would be good but the elevator is out of-” Steve was cut off by the sound of the nearby elevator door chiming. He tilted his head in confusion as he recalled what Tony had told him.

. . .

“Y/N is here,” Tony announced, smirking at the super soldier and patting him on the shoulder, “would you mind brining her up, old timer?” Steve held back the urge to roll his eyes and stood up. But before he could make it out of the room he heard the philanthropist call out, “Make sure you take the stairs, elevator’s out of order.”

. . .

You chuckled at the man’s expression, “When has anything in the tower not been the way Mr. Stark expected it to be?” Steve shook off the strange  and started walking with you to the elevator. Once inside, you both looked around the small space in an awkward silence.

When the elevator stopped a few stories up, one of your coworkers, Derek, walked into the space and stood between you and Steve with a suggestive smirk, “What are you doing here on your day off? Miss me too much?” You chuckled at his antics, he had always play flirted with you. The first time it happened you both laughed and he told you he did it to everyone to make his boyfriend jealous. But Steve didn’t know that.

“Of course, I just had to see you,” you teased with a wink. You saw the playfulness in Derek’s eyes as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. What you couldn’t see was Steve’s deathly glare towards the other male.

Who the hell was the guy flirting on you, he thought. After the initial frustration passed, his fear set in. Why didn’t you ever look at him that way, he asked himself. Ever since the 40′s Steve was used to ladies picking every other guy over him. Even after the serum, the insecurity stayed with him and turned him into that kid from Brooklyn again.

Derek finally left the cramped space after going up a few more floors. You and Steve continued ascending the tower in a tense silence before the elevator rang and you eagerly followed Steve to the rest of the group.

Tony was the first to greet you. “I’m glad you could make it, I hope capsicle didn’t bore you on the way up,” the playboy said, making you chuckle and Steve blush. “Lucky for us it is my turn to choose the game for tonight,” he stated with a suspiciously excited smile, “come in and take a seat!”

After a few minutes of introductions and small talk, you ended up sitting next to Thor and Bucky. You noticed both of them were slightly shivering but trying to cover it up. Just as you were about to ask him to turn down the A/C, Tony clapped his hands as he addressed the room. “All right everybody, the game that we will be playing tonight is... truth or dare!” Half of the room’s inhabitants groaned while the others rolled their eyes.

Natasha leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, “That’s juvenile, even for you.” Tony snickered and took a seat, “It was my turn to pick so you guys have to do it. Anyways, who wants to go first?”

. . .

Sam squealed as Bucky dumped a glass of ice down his shirt, "You son of a bitch!" The winter soldier snickered and ran for the door, his friend close behind. You let out a laugh as you continued to shiver under the A/C.

"I believe it is your turn, Stark," Thor exclaimed as he took another drink from his Asgardian mead.

Tony smirked as he glanced at you and faced Steve. "Alright, Rogers, truth or dare?"

Steve sighed, "Truth."

"Come on, you've been picking that all game. But now I have something you certainly don't want me to ask you." Tony gestured towards you, who was now trying to hold back a shiver.

Steve tried to get a word out but ended up dropping his head in embarrassment, "Dare, please."

Tony stood up with a broad smile and spoke almost as if he was speaking to the entire room, "Final answer?"

Steve gave a defeated nod before he spoke again, "Fantastic, I dare you to sit on Y/N's lap for the rest of the game."

The room went silent. You hadn’t been paying close attention but you knew exactly what you heard. Desperate for any kind of way to get out of this situation, you looked around the room to find everyone but Steve looking calm. The super soldier could barely keep eye contact with you when he too looked around for help as his face turned a deeper red.

Both of you ended up laying your eyes on Tony. “Get to it soldier, I mean she’s been freezing the entire game. Might as well be a human torch and heat her up,” he ordered. Steve was about to protest when the other man held up a hand, “We all agreed to the rules so no backing out.”

After a few more minutes of the two arguing about the dare, Steve gave up and walked over to you and did everything he could to not meet your eyes. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I won’t do it if you aren’t comfortable with-” you hesitantly cut him off, “Its ok, Mr. Rogers.”

After silently debating what to do in his mind, he softly nodded and sat down. The tension was cut by Tony clapping, “Now that wasn’t so hard. Dr. Banner it is your turn next.”

The team went through a few more people before ending up talking, which you and Steve did not notice. You hated to admit it but he was very warm. The man in your lap brought your attention to him when he spoke to you in a whisper, “I’m really sorry. I know you have a boyfriend and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Boyfriend?”

“The guy from the elevator?” Your eyes went wide before you let out a quiet chuckle. “That was Derek, he is just a friend from work. Plus he is definitely not as warm as you.”

“Well that is good to know.”

“Maybe now you can take her on a date now instead of moping around,” Tony chimed in.

You both looked at the other Avengers before you spoke up, “Did you plan this?”

“Of course I did,” Natasha gave Tony a pointed look, “well I planned most of it and these guys helped, and Derek even did it for free.”

You smiled and felt your face heat up as Steve stood up and sat next to you. He sheepishly smiled before turning towards you, “Is there a chance that you are free Saturday?”

“Only if there is a chance this is you asking me out.”

“Then its a date,” he wrapped an arm around you and the evening continued with the team talking while you and Steve fell asleep on the couch.

. . .

“Tony, Steve’s going to be pissed,” Natasha whispered as Tony took a picture of you nuzzling your head in the crook of Steve’s neck while he had his arms protectively wrapped around your waist.

“Eh, he’ll get over it.”

[rhyme-the-rhyme-well]

Derek Ridgers Photography

"To be quite honest, when I first met the Beastie Boys I thought they were three idiots.

NME had sent me to New York and I turned up, on my own, to find them in a small, cluttered West Village flat. The atmosphere reeked of dopey, male adolescence. They proceeded to lark about, show off, chuck things around and generally try to make me feel as awkward as possible.

I smiled and tried to go with the flow, just in order to get the job done and get out of there as quickly as possible. 

It certainly didn’t dawn on me at the time but this little performance might have been a sort of test. Maybe they put all members of the media through it, just to see how they would react; I certainly have my suspicions on this score. I honestly don’t know if I passed the test or not, but after an hour or so, they shut up and let me get on with it.

When it was time for me to go, they presented me with a small metal keyring.   Apparently they gave them to all visiting members of the press.

The keyring was in the shape of two figures, an attractive young woman and a rather unattractive looking old man.  It was articulated so that one could make the figures appear to be in enthusiastic sexual congress.  It was the sort of low-brow trash that one can pick up in seaside novelty shops the world over.  If one was young enough, one might have found it mildly amusing - for a millisecond. When I got home I gave to my sixteen year old son.

In subsequent years, after they moved to LA, I shot the Beastie Boys many more times and I got to know them well.  As usual, my initial impressions of them turned out to be completely wrong. Three nicer and more intelligent guys one could honestly not hope to meet.  So I guess their earlier behaviour was a test.

We took the above photograph just off Eighth Avenue and a very one similar one later featured on the cover of the NME."

Source: http://www.derekridgers.com/blog/the-beastie-boys-new-york-1987

[capmackie]

no sleep for the wicked

Bucky,

I pray this letter finds you well — it’s been so long, so very damn long. 

I know you’re wondering how I possibly could’ve gotten your address — I’m surprised myself, to be honest, you really did not want to be found lol. I must say, you’ve done a helluva job of keeping yourself off of the grid but I can’t say I’m surprised; if James Buchanan Barnes made his mind up to do something, it was good as done.  I’ve always admired that about you. But if you taught me, anything brother, it’s to take life in my own hands, craft my own destiny and after 10 years, 86 days, 14 hours, and 56 minutes of searching, I’m finally sending this letter off.  I don’t know what I’m expecting out of this but I’m here to ask you to come back home Bucky. I hope that you know that you are missed — shit man. We never expected you to leave and never once thought you’d stay away for so long after that. Nothing could ever take your place here, not even me.  If only for a weekend, please come back.  P.S. — can I still call you Bucky?

Love,  Steve ——————— The smell of coffee is the only thing in the world that can possibly rouse Sam Wilson out of his fitful sleep. Even then, it takes James Rhodes placing the mug directly in Sam’s face for the sheriff to even stir. Long nights at the Handonsville’s Sheriff Department will do that to you. It’s a deep roast, made by some kind of hipster brand that Sam can’t even pronounce and is *too damn expensive* if you ask him, but it gets the job done. And the job needs to be done, unfortunately. What went from an absolutely rarity of Sam staying overnight to work on a case has become a constant in his life. And Sam’s loves constants. He loves a routine, loves order and predictability; loves waking up every morning at 5:45am, going on his morning jogs and greeting the early risers of the town — Mrs. Carter down at the library, Mr. Barnes who own the local meat shop, loves making it back at his cramped apartment at 6:15, not a minute later. And as much as Sam loves the constants in his life, he will never get comfortable with the sudden constant-ness of the disappearances in his town. No matter how many times it happens, no matter how each disappearance closely mirrors the one before it, no matter the same sad looks on each one of the missing person’s families' faces, the collective dread they all seem to share when they come into the office to report that their son, daughter, sister, cousins hasn’t been home in over 24 hours. No, he’ll never get used to that, no matter how constant. Sam stretches, feels his body protest fervently against the position he slept in, hears his bones cracks as he stretches. At only 30 years old, Sam already knows he’s getting too old for this shit. His body continues to groan in protest as he wearily stands, stretching his arms and back once more before grabbing his coffee to take a look at the ‘Missing Persons’ board. He’s been in the station since last night, pouring hours into a case file — which doubled as his pillow, to make some sense of the mysterious disappearance of one Casey Johnson. So deep into the file, Sam didn’t even bother to make the ten-minute trek back to his place, eventually just giving in and sleeping at the office. Casey Johnson was the latest victim in what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of disappearances in the small town. Nothing about Johnson was similar to the case before him; he was young, two weeks removed from graduating from high school. He was a good kid, a little on the dopey side but kind-hearted nonetheless. Anyone who knew Johnson knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly and that made the question of *who would hurt him* that much more pressing. He had no run-ins with the law, on the contrary, he spent most of his free time down at the office with Sam, with dreams of eventually becoming a sheriff himself. So no, there was no pattern between Johnson the last case, Steve Rogers, the soldier notorious for his frequent visits to the station, who disappeared just a few days before Johnson. The only thing they had in common was leaving their respective places with an unspoken promise to be back — Rogers was off to the post office to mail a letter while Johnson was taking the garbage out for Mr. Barnes at the meat shop, never to return again. It made no sense. --- The first instance of someone going missing, it was Pixie Thomas, who was quite as eccentric as her name would suggest. With no reason to suspect foul play and with one of Pixie’s favorite bands on tour one town over, it was safe to say that she left to become one of their roadies. The second, third, fourth and fifth time it happened, well those cases weren’t so easy to write off. The victims ranged in ages, marital status, wealth, race. It was almost like whoever was behind this was choosing them at random which spelled trouble for the small force. With nothing to link the missing together, it was nearly impossible to know when and where the perpetrator would strike next. “Earth to Sam, hello?” Rhodey’s voice and wave of hand brought Sam back to the present. This kind of thing has happened before, Sam becoming so hyper-fixated on a particular case that he forgets to eat, drink, *blink*, but nowhere near this magnitude. Now, more often than not, Sam finds himself lost in his work and the other officers just find him lost. “I know you like to think if you stare at this wall long enough, the answers will appear like you’re in some kind of Sherlock episode but I’m sorry buddy, it ain’t happening.” Sam *might as well* be in a Sherlock episode the way this case is turning out. Actually there’s nothing more in the world he would love more than to ask Benadryl Cumberbatch for help with solving this shitshow but alas. “Go home Wilson”, Rhodey continues, “you need some rest.” “Can’t”, Sam replies. And it’s true; he can’t. He can’t just separate himself from this case, it’s not that easy. He can’t leave it unsolved, can’t chance the townspeople catching word of the seven disappearances within county lines and how their very own sheriff department has no clue what the fuck is going on. Can’t go home to *rest* when people like Casey Johnson or Steve Rogers may never make it back home ever again. Blowing on his coffee, letting the steam of the hot beverage envelop him for a moment, he turns to Rhodey and then back to the corkboard. ———— Growing up in Handonsville, Sam wanted nothing more than to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a sheriff in the town that loved him and he loved back. Handonsville, with all of its small-town charm — small, quaint, stereotypical —  is the only home Sam has ever known. It’s one of those places where no one is a stranger, for better or worse. Here, secrets are hard to hide and even harder to keep. Little to no anonymity is a small price to pay considering how fiercely the small town protects each other and itself. Growing up and until Sam’s third year on the job, there was no crime, no violence, no ... anything to be honest. The sheriff’s department was mostly for show, something to make out of towners reconsider their ideas of fucking with the people of Handonsville. And it worked. But now something had changed in the sleepy town. There were no threats from outsiders; no drifters unaware of the unspoken rules that govern Handonsville causing trouble. No, it was a different malevolent presence blanketing the town, sinking onto the residents, heavy and restricting. Now, the danger came from inside of the town. You could practically feel it in the air. The feeling of dread, of waiting for the first fall of rain to come after the dark clouds move in. The anxiousness of seeing lighting flit across the sky, preparing yourself for the roar of thunder that’s sure to follow. In the three decades Sam has lived in Handonsville, he never had any reason to ever doubt his own safety or the safety of the other 800 residents that called this place home too. Until today. Until Derek Anderson, the town’s resident mechanic, came barging into the office, yelling that he needed to speak to Sam and he needed to do it *right away*. Frantic and upset, Anderson ignores Rhodey’s suggestions to quiet down, the officer throwing an apologetic look over his shoulder at Sam who’s come from the back to see what the disturbance is all about. Before he even reaches the man, Sam knows immediately what all of the commotion pertains to, he can feel it in his gut. The eighth disappearance in less than two months in Handonsville. ———————— Taking the crumpled piece of parchment paper out of the garbage can for the sixth time today, Bucky finds himself staring down at the words of someone he hoped to never speak to again. At the mere mention of coming back home, of *Handonsville*, Bucky felt the floodgates open; nostalgia pouring down on him, pulling him under until he has no choice but to float with the current; had no choice but to let the memories he tried so hard to repress wash over him, engulf him completely. It’s nothing against Steve; no, Steve was a light in Bucky’s life, a light in so many others lives as well. Steve was smart, funny, had a penchant for danger the same way Bucky did. They were brothers in every sense of the word; playing together, fighting together, even crying together once when Sir Snaps a Lot, Steve’s turtle died. They didn’t know it then but it was a reason why they got along so well, like they were actual brothers. Because while Steve was a light in Bucky’s life, smart, funny and a risk-taker, he also was the byproduct of an affair that ruined the Barnes’ home completely. How their father thought a secret of that magnitude would ever remain hidden in a town like Handsonville was beyond Bucky and the ensuing drama drove him and his Ma out of town. It took years for Bucky to even acknowledge his father again, much less his father’s son. And *Steve* — the same Steve who was his age and his height and classmate and his best friend was no longer just that. Steve was his brother and no matter how many times they often referred to each other as brothers before the truth came out, how natural their relationship, the unmistakable bond the two shared, it wasn’t right to refer to Steve as what he actually was. But that was years ago, a lifetime even, and Bucky had made his peace, putting time and eight thousand miles of distance between himself and the sins of his father, only for one measly letter to draw him back, like a moth to an open flame. A small part of Bucky knew nothing good would ever come from him going back home. Knew there, he was more likely to meet his demise than his dawning; but under the incessant need to separate himself from the town that shunned him, turned him away was the egregious *want* to prove that he made it without them. That there was a great big world outside of the small town and that world accepted him even when they wouldn't. With his jaw set and his bags packed, Bucky set off to Handonsville. ————- It’s all starting to run together at this point. And not that Sam isn’t emphatic to the plight of Mr. Anderson — his heart yearns for the other man, the very idea of having to file this kind of report for your child is *traumatizing*, it’s just that he’s seen this scene play out before. He’s seen the frightened look on Anderson’s face before, he’s seen in at least seven times in the past two months. He’s heard the script before, sure the names and dates and last seen places are different, but in the end, it’s all the *same*.

[hannahhook7744]

Turns out Artie is 12.

List the book and lesser known AKs and think what would their personalities be like.

(I'm only gonna do the ones mentioned by people who worked with descendants. And any kid seen for more than a couple of seconds in wicked world is disaqualifed immediately because you can see their personality. Also I know crabby isn't a girl in canon but since no one ever corrected me, you all have to deal with a female crabby).

Li Shang Jr—he's a lot like his mom but has his dad's temper and overprotective-ness. And he's really inti music and a great boyfriend.

Elle (wheel chair girl)—she's the adopted daughter of Eric and Ariel. And she's a lot like her mother, and gets along with her better than she does with her dad. She's stubborn and hopeful and always tries to remain optimistic. And she's creative.

Taylor (One off tourney kid who I assume is Tarzan's kid)—he's as wild as his dad and as smart as mom, and an animal on the field. He's good with animals and socially awkward but a good friend and boyfriend to have.

Derek (Doug's brother)—he's a weightlifting selective mute who's dating Diego de vil. He's multi-talented, multilingual, and very smart and ambitious. And a protective older brother and cousin.

Miguel (random tourney kid)—he's Milo and Kida's kid. He's smart and nerdy like his dad but sporty, athletic , and stubborn like his mother. He never gives up and loves learning about other cultures.

Brendan (random tourney kid)— One of Lottie La Bouf and Lars Westergaard's kids. He's kind like both of his parents and a bit snobby but he's a good friend to have and one of the few people in the Westergaard family who's not afraid to stand up to his uncles and grandparents. He's protective and helpful and supportive and day Dreamer.

Li (another tourney kid)—assuming he's Longwei's kid, he's the complete opposite of his dad and very resentful that he got stuck with a girl's name. He goes by Lie and is very mischievous, playful, and smart. He's the life of the party and one of the best players on the field. Also assume he's mixed.

William (another tourney kid)—he's Wendy's middle child. And a mixture of her, Michael, and John. He's smart like John (and his older sister Jane), playful like all of them, resourceful, parental like his mom, brave like his dad, loving like his older brother and uncle Michael, and very very athletic though he doesn't look it. He's also good with kids and animals and doesn't hold anything against the vks that their parents did.

Akio (another tourney kid)—he's Edna mode's son. He's eccentric and wants to be a hero but he's also heavily into sports and building traps and designing. He'd get along with Evie and hate capes. He's very big on the no capes rule.

Ruby (Flynnpunzal's kid)—artsy girl who's afraid of dating at first. She's cautious and knows how to defend herself. A lover of the arts. She can name almost any piece you show her. She's friendly and loving but very introverted.

Aziz—friendly kid. A good thief like Jay. Athletic and accepting. Smart and competitive. A bit off a show off. Good at giving people the slip. Observant. Playful. Ladies' man. What more can I say?

Ariana Rose—ever watched mean girls? She's basically Regina George and is totally awful to Audrey. She's hauty and snobby and loves rubbing everything in Audrey's face. She's Isabella but an actual bitch. No misunderstanding about it. And unlike Audrey, she has no reason to be. She's the perfect golden child. The one Leah always compared Audrey to.

Bobby Hood—Mischievous, playful, protective, fun loving, quick, smart, clever, cunning, brave, dashing, a ladies man, a bit slow at times, nature loving, athletic. Bit of an attention seeker. Good leader and friend. Sarcastic. Snarky. Loyal. Stubborn. A bit noisy. Totally in love with Tiger Peony.

Tiger Peony—kind, nature loving, sweet. Smart. Natural born leader. Activist. Feminist. Loyal. Stubborn. Protective. Multitalented. Good at stealing the show. Sassy. A bit noisy. Mysterious. Sarcastic. Intune with herself, her feelings, and nature. Good at giving advice. Has a thing for Bobby Hood.

Herkie—Slightly dimwitted sweet heart who loves art and sports. Doesn't know his own strength half the time. Protective. Kind. A bit noisy. Good at misdirecting people. Loves pranks and food. He's a good chief and fighter but also if you need a distraction, he's your guy.

Artie—a fun-loving, hyperactive, playful pre-teen who wants to be just like his dad when he grows up. He loves pranks and sword-fighting, and climbing trees.

Pin—Cocky. A bit of a smart ass. Mysterious. Noisy. Smart. Playful. Creative. Bad liar. Funny. Protective of his family. Good at carpenting. Loves amusement parks. Doesn't trust easily. He's a smoker and a mostly honest guy. Ambitious. Knows how to get what he wants. Think Richie from It mixed with August from ouat and Donkey from Shrek. Also a prankster.

Opal—bit of an odd girl to outsiders. She's brave and confident and never shies away from being who she is. She's a good musician and advice giver. Loves her friends. She's loyal and smart and Intune with her heritage. Bit of ambivert who learns more towards the introvert side. Witty as well. Good dancer. Friendly. Bit of a pacifist but will fight when necessary.

Arabella—she's an open, loyal, and friendly outgoing girl who reminds people of her aunt Ariel in many ways. But she's also assertive and a party girl. A free spirit who doesn't like to he held back and isn't above being sneaky to get what she wants. She's a rebel and advocate and activist and the life of the party. No party is the same without her there. Also had a bit of a corruption arc.

The Tweedledum and Tweedleedee cousins—mysterious introverts who stick mainly to themselves and other Wonderlandians. They're mischief and meek when together and totally different people when not. Rarely seen without one another.

Clarina Potts—motherly, friendly, sweet, a bit bossy, good cook, good babysitter, a cheerleader, preppy, social, a bit dirty minded, playful. A model student. She's a lot like her mother tbh. She also wears a pan on her head as a hat.

Yi-min—she's temperamental like her father, loving like her mother, loyal like her parents, a good fighter, can stand her own ground, brave and determined, doesn't like hip hop, bit of hippie. Good strategist. Fun. A foodie. A blogger. A theorist. Good at deduction. Helped Lonnie out in school of secrets. Good with cameras.

Hap—hippie, doesn't always think things through, a romantic, socially awkward, a cheerleader, takes after his dad. Talkative. Party boy. Not very academically inclined. Calls his car baby. You know the type.

Anxelin—goth artsy girl who's quick on her feet, snarky, sassy, sarcastic, and good at stealing. Loves her family and friends but is a total introvert.

Bashful/Bash—shy musician who worked for Diego's band for awhile. He's a nature guy. Bit of a hippie. Works at a flower shop. Mysterious. Doesn't have a lot of friends. Introverted. Bit of a lone wolf..

Gordon—likes Ivy de Vil. Smart ass. A bit dimwitted. Protective middle child. Takes awhile for him to like and trust people. He's strong and works at the docks. Doesn't mind feminine things. Will do anything to make his girl and younger cousins and siblings smile. Bit like Ward from season 1 of Shield but not evil. He speaks his mind. Has a good sense of humor.

Sleepy Jr.—a geeky nerdy insomnia stricken drama club, gamer student who falls asleep everywhere. He loves movies and works at the movie theater. Kind and friendly and playful. More confident than Doug.

Shy—his name is deceiving because he's actually rather outgoing and social, and popular. He's on about every sports team at Auradon Prep and he's rather confident, even when he shouldn't be. He's not also not as smart as his younger brother (or Doug) not that he'd ever admit that.

Snoozy/Creeps—He's an anti-social poet who wants to be a teacher when he's an older. He changed his name to creeps because he hates his old name. He's also good at fighting and is rarely ever asleep. He's academic and in college.

Doc 2/Raphael—he's a snobby college kid who is currently trying to become a doctor. He always acts like he's all that and is a bit of a smart ass. Thinks he's better than he is. But he's also helpful and is always the first to rush to his cousins/friends/siblings' aid.

Cheerful—he's brave, confident, kind, likes goofing off, smart, stickler for the rules. Friendly. Always tries to save as many people as he can. He's a volunteer fire fighter. Athletic. Fun loving.

Gesundheit—a bookworm toy maker who is loyal, playful, kind, sweet, friendly, and smart. Completely introverted. Makes dirty jokes constantly. Quite the swearer. Which shocks people. He's good at playing innocent too.

Crabby—a moody, ambitious, hardworking smart aleck with a temperament who wants to be a social worker. She is a former class president and girls inc. member who knows how to get what she wants.

Tyrone (tourney player)—Tiana and Naveen's son. Best friend of Brendan. He's hard working like his mom and playful and flirty like his dad. He's a sporty guy, knows how to play the banjo, and he loves crocodiles and fire flies. Hates frogs though. He has a thing for Freddie. He's interested in voodoo, not that he'd ever tell his parents that. Bit of a show off. Kind. Sweet. Kind of bossy. Prefers Jay over Carlos. He's afraid of being turned into a frog.

[grizztheexplorer]

Ep 5 Love Victor live reaction:

- what do you mean you don’t understand a Madonna reference how old am I??

- girl they hate u bc u are cheater I think u are gonna have to at least try getting along with the in laws💀 like starting a fight over it is not it💀🌚

- I hate that Victor has to do shit he clearly doesn’t want to do to turn off the fires in his family. People (THE PARENTS) need to start actually listening to their kids and not just want they wanna hear

- she said piñata for a 16 year old😭 ma’am piñatas are until ur 14 year old bday and then never again until like 18 or up ONLY when everyone else is drunk at the party and the piñatas turn ironic. Thats the rule.

- omg Lake invited Benji!!! Let Victor have one break from his gay breakdown omg (but also yesss)

- “he’s a very macho boy” [squeals] ajdjdjdjd i loved that😭😭

-omg Pilar stfu???? Sjdjjddjdj i love the family drama but let it stay in the fam not with in laws that already hate ur mom

- ik they were gonna be homophobic but jesus christ💀 let the little kid play with the damn wand fuck

- Mia!!! Looks!!! So good with the hair half up and blue eyeliner!!!!!!!! Fuck it up girl!!!!!

- they need to stop watching soccer if the guests come

- omg Mia JUST arrived and i am now realizing grandpa could be racist too fuckkkkk

- omg they are not god bless

- aah :(((( that dad is so happy bc he had a girlfriend 😭😭

- omg the mom is gonna hate the girlfriend?? She’s been so rude what a boring cliché. Bitch you cheated and have a bad relationship bc grandma is a bitch. U planning on continuing the tradition?? Even if shit is bad bc if u?? THE LEAST U CAN DO IS BE NICE💀

- follow him around with google translate LMAOOOO

- 😭😭😭 i only like the kids in the family I don’t really like the parents or grandparents someone save Benji and his bf they aren’t there yet but I don’t want them there

- its been a sec and i hate the bf omg rip. Him and Benji have interacted so little but god the actors!!!!! They have this eye contact thats so good!!!! The actor who plays Victor totally has chemistry with Mia and has these cute ass looks but with Benji!!!!!! Is such a loaded look too!!!!!! This actor is killing it!!!!! Is like less dopey and more in trance whenever Benji is around😭 Benji too bitch got a bf but be staring at Victor.

- Victor noooo how u gonna introduce them like that. He should have let them know beforehand of his grandparents. For a friend i would be in a uncomfortable situation but only if they let me know beforehand. Being surprised at the moment and caught off guard is so much more disrespectful (at least in my opinion).

- Benji is pissed and he has every right to but also i wanna die

- I can’t with grandma saying devil music lmaooooo. Thank god my grandma didn’t give a shit about those things even tho she was religious af

- also where is victor going pls don’t make Benji feel worse

- in a way I understand if Benji’s bf is pissed at him for hiding it. On another, this is benji’s FRIEND’S house. Its his family. And he asked a very ride thing last min, but it is better to leave than to flatout make a scene when you were asked to avoid it. I respect Benji for that, bc he 100% didn’t have to but it was the nice thing to do. He would be justified to make a scene or to just leave. But i feel like that should be Benji’s call more than his bf’s and the bf shouldn’t be upset at it. The relationship that can be affected is Benji’s. Its his friend and coworker. While the bf is involved and is disrespectful to him too, the call here isn’t his. And he needs to stand by whatever Benji decides to do, whether that’s cause a scene, leave, or hide for the day.

- Felix is cute. He looks like the Benji from My Babysitter is a Vampire and WHO didn’t have a crush on THAT Benji growing up??? Get him Lake. The Stiles of this world are always worth it.

-Now i stand with the bf tho. If Derek wants to go Benji could talk to Victor and go. I do think is unfair to make Derek stay in a circumstance he wasn’t told beforehand. And Victor’s fam might not necessarily be physically violent, but Derek nor Benji know that. Derek could not only be extremely uncomfortable, possibly triggered, but also might feel in danger. Benji SHOULD understand that and tell Victor they can talk it out later and head out. He just won’t leave bc he is also lowkey crushing on Victor tho.

- shitshitshit they kissing and they saw it. Omg thank fucking god the grandpa didn’t make a scene.

- no omg don’t ask for a word for it?? Is not a big deal jesus fuck. Omg fuck this a “family party” nah just leave.

- yes omg confront them. Hell fucking yeah.

- i love the mom confronting them over her shit too but sjdjdjdj do they know there’s other people in this house💀💀 his girlfriend AND crush and crush’s bf are all there i would die

- not dad pretending like he’s standing up for his fam when he was talking about “is a family party” 3 mins ago. Nah son u blacklisted unfil further notice.

-i really thought Pilar was gonna fuck up and i was about to scream

- aaaaah that’s why shit they do is similar to me. They are colombiannnnn. Made me wonder bc the bendicion thing is something we venezuelans do but never heard cubans, mexicans, or any mainstream latinx family do before. Makes sense, venezuelans and colombians have a lot in common (more than other latinx cultures)

- where the fuck did the kids go to lmao. After all these speeches i would have lowkeu gone too💀💀

-Benji bitch im sorry too I can’t imagine being out into the position he was put on. Even if Victor stood up for him. Benji also most be so confused about Victor bc they def have had moments.

-omg the direct eye contact with the candles these kids are BOLD

- y’all Mia and Victor would have made a power couple if he hadn’t met Benji and salivated for him sjdjdjdj. Once they figure their shit out they are gonna be fucking power friends dude.

- I WAS SO HAPPY THE DAD APOLOGIZED BUT I FUCKING K N E W HE WAS GONNA MAKE A COMMENT ABOUT “at least this fam not gay” BECAUSE THAT’S EXACTLY HOW MY LATINX MOM WAS BEFORE I CAME OUT WHEN MY BEST FRIEND CAME OUT. SHE WAS FINE WITH IT AND FINE WITH US HAVING SLEEPOVERS AND ALL BC I “wasn’t” ANDJDJD U CAN DO IT VICTOR THEY’LL UNDERSTAND IF THEY AIN’T VIOLENTLY HOMOPHOBIC U GOT ONE FOOT INSIDE THE DOOR MAKE THE STEP BUDDY

[becausenoothernameisavailable]

Winter Olympics AU.

Day 5. No Dalton AU Dalton Academy never existed. So where do our characters end up? Do some of them know each other anyway? Maybe they ended up in public schools, maybe they would never meet at all. Tell or show us what happens if Dalton Academy had never been built.

They meet at the Olympics of course.

“And now we have TEAM USA led by the defending Olympic Champion Blaine Anderson”

As the announcer continued to speak about Blaine Anderson and size of the Team USA, Logan sighed and carefully made his way down the icy cold arena surrounded by his teammates, his rivals, his friends, all wrapped up in their heavy matching jacket, gloves, mittens and boots as they smiled and cheered and waved at the gathered spectators.

He was here to win. Gold, his dad promised to everyone at to the press conference announcing the team representing the USA in the 2022 Olympics.

“So, you’re not sad that it’s not you out there?” Logan looked up to find his best friend Derek gesturing to the front at Blaine; mitten gloved and beaming as he slowly carried their country flag, waving it carefully and smiling as he led the team.

“No.” he sighed remembering the awful situation that was his dad who finally realized that his son’s fooling around was an actual Olympic sport and could be spun around to boost his campaign that he gunned for Logan to be the flag bearer. Luckily, Logan got to his dad first before he could talk to concerned people and convince him that he needed to focus on his jumps, otherwise, that would have been a disaster waiting to happen. There was already talk about favouritism and politics involved thanks to his dad but Logan won the national trials by fair and square and by a large margin. There were no doubts involved he was good, but now he needed to prove just how good he actually was.

“No, Blaine deserved it, he did win gold in the last Olympics. There was no way they would replace him with me.”

“Then it’s all cool with you.” Derek asked as he watched his best friend, “And him.”  They both gave up the pretence of waving and were walking side by side, camouflaged by the sheer size of the US Winter Olympics team.

“Yeah.” Logan nodded and watched his ex who was now glancing at his boyfriend Kurt Hummel – US team Figure skater as he walked not quite behind Blaine and they both beamed at each other. “He’s with Hummel now. We were not good together.”

“You did love him, once.”

“And look at what that led us to, a hushed-up article about a bar fight between an Olympic gold medalist and the son of a US Senator. And to think that it started out as a date.”

“Well, I am glad to see you’re better now.” Derek grinned at him, “and I look forward to beating you on the ice.”

“You got a Bronze last time.” Logan nudged him, ”don’t act like as if you won.”

“At least I was on the podium, Mr 4th Place.” Derek smiled cheekily and slapped Logan on the back, who narrowed his eyes on him, “Oh it’s so on Seigerson.”

“Come at me, Wright.”

*

The opening ceremony went on for the rest of the night and soon it was the next day and qualifying rounds began for the games which would last for almost two weeks.

You got this, just ski like you normally ski and all will be well.

“Men’s round – Team 1 out on the ice.”

“You got this.” He told himself and immediately walked into another person. He couldn’t stop it from happen and they both went slipping out into the ice.

“Ow,” Logan said and from where he was sprawled out on the floor. “You okay,” Derek said as skied and stopped next to him. “Yes, though I think I was sabotaged.” and Derek laughed, “Sabotaged, by him.” He gestured to the other person who was still winded out, lying on the ice.

He looked pale and delicate, slender Logan corrected as those were clearly muscles that moved through his skin-tight training suit as he was surrounded by teammates – Great Britain, Logan read as the guy slowly moved away from the ice, shivering. Logan frowned, he would have to be freezing here out in the snow, in the elements with just a training suit which did wonders for his body highlighting his muscles, skin tight and black standing out in the white snow.

“Logan. Hey.” He realized that Derek was still talking to him and he dusted himself and nodded to Derek, “I am alright, let’s do this.”

*

In, out, just like breathing. Logan thought as he skied, that’s its.

“Great work everyone.” Their coach smiled and Logan nodded. He was done for the day and he needed the rest hoping that his allotted room was free.

He dropped his kit back in the room and went down to the mess building and almost collided with another person. Twice in one day, seriously “Oh great, it's you again.”

“Excuse me.” Logan asked, he didn’t know the guy in front of him but he looked pissed, “Are you out for round 2 then,” and he realized it was the guy from the morning. “Woah, excuse me,” he narrowed his eye "You collided with me.” The angry look that met him made all the blood in his body pool immediately in his dick. The guy was absolutely his type, little taller than him, slender but strong, tousled brown hair as he sneered at him. He studied Logan’s Team USA jacket and snorted, “Don’t think I am going to allow you to boost Hummel’s chances at gold. I got this in the bag.” and smirked and walked away.

Who was that?

*

“We’re are going to see the figure skating program later today, coming with?”

Logan looked up to find Derek and a bunch of his fellow skiers changed out of their uniform. “I want to practice a few jumps, now that the trails are free,” Logan said as he picked up his snowboard.

“Oh give it a rest.” Derek laughed and clapped him on the back. “We just skied a perfect practice. I can beat you later on the board.”

Logan narrowed his eyes, “You mean like how I beat you yesterday, even after my fall.”

“Sure, whatever." Derek drawled, "plus David here hasn’t stopped whining about seeing his girlfriend and he’s making me miserable. He’s an even worse roommate than you.” he said laughing at their teammate David Sullivan who was ecstatic when his girlfriend made the cut.

“I miss her,” David said and smiled at his phone display that was an image of a smiling girl with long brown and large brown eye.

“Plus there will be girls” Wes piped “And Boys.” chimed Shane, Dear God another Anderson, of the US Ski Team.

*

The break in the practice was actually refreshing and Logan found himself enjoying as his teammates cheered on their fellow teammates, occasionally passing comments if a cute girl skated by.

They were also not alone as Blaine Anderson was out near the rink gazing moodily at his boyfriend who was doing warm-ups in the corner when the Team Great Britain entered in.

“Oh wow, who is that.” Derek eyes glazed and Derek saw him look at a girl in Team GB coat enter the rink and practice skating.

“Casey Scott.” David replied moodily, “Katherine’s frenemy, gold medal hopeful, placed first in the Worlds last year and the Grand Prix.”

”You know a lot about figure skating man.” Derek replied as he watched Casey spin and skate her way around the ice. “Teach me about it. Like what move is that which made her skirt fly up. She looked cute doing it.” and Logan smiled at his best friend’s dopey grin and heart eyes.

“Slow down cowboy, you just learnt her name.”

“Well, we definitely need to put this in use.” Derek tossed something from his pocket at Logan’s face and who reflexively caught it.

“I have my own thank you very much,” Logan smirked and threw it back the Derek who laughed and pocketed it.

“They give them out every single year.” Charlie Amos said from behind him and Logan wondered if the entire US Ski team/snowboarding team was going to show up to watch the US figure skate team participate.

“What are you doing here man?” David and Wes smiled and hugged their friend

“Heard from Shane that we’re all gathering here so I made my way here,” Charlie said and zipped up his coat making himself comfortable.

“I see that the men’s team is next.” Charlie when he noticed Kurt and the others gathering next to the rink entrance.

“Oh man, I hope Blaine plays it cool and not mess up like yesterday,” Shane whispered as he watched his older brother dopily follow his boyfriend everywhere he went.

“Yeah, that’s not going happen.” Wes and David laughed loudly, “Not if Kurt decides to play.”

“What did he do?” Logan laughed and Derek nodded eagerly.

“He was watching Kurt unzip his jacket and he missed a couple of stairs and tripped.” David laughed. “Kurt was to blame, he knew Blaine was watching him so he threw a couple of smirks and saucy winks at him and then Blaine fell.”

“Spectacularly“ Wes laughed, “He didn’t get hurt.” He was in full gym uniform, padding and everything, having not bothered to change, But yeah.”

“But then Kurt made it up to him, several times may I add and loudly.”

“See this why you need to test these soon.” Derek quipped and slapped the condom back into Logan’s hand when Shane whistled next to him. “I think I will take that.” and pocketed the condom from a surprised Logan. “Team GB has just walked in and I think I have died and gone to heaven. There is an actual angel on the rink.”

Logan side-eyed Shane from where he was moonily gazing out on the rink and laughed, the Anderson Brothers were a riot alright and he turned to look out at the rink and his breath got stuck.

Out on the rink right in the middle, a boy was skating perfectly with the music, moving in, moving out, gliding with the flow of the music as he skated gracefully across the ice. He raised an arm up twirled before he took off in jump which had all crowd cheering and Logan staring in admiration. He then landed gently and twirled again and Logan recognized his face immediately.

“It's him.” He jogged Derek’s arm “from yesterday and today.”

“Who is that?.”  Logan said and realized that Shane had asked the same thing. There’s no way he was getting the perfect stranger, he was Logan’s

“Who.” all the guys asked as they watch the two of them.

“Him,” Logan whispered, at boy danced seamlessly with the music, his brunette hair arranged artfully as he raised a hand up and jumped again.

“The cute one, who skates like an angel, like a perfect cherub with wings.” Everyone sighed at Shane’s adjectives and he waved his hand, no his entire body at the little Strawberry blond Team GB skater as he skated across the ice. “He looks like a Botticelli carved angel.” and everyone groaned.

“Reed Van Kamp,” Charlie announced reading from his phone. “Team GB, figure skating.”

“Give me that.” Shane made grabby hands towards Charlie who sighed and handed his phone to Shane who alternated between the staring moonily at the phone and Reed skating.

“The other one is Julian Larson, in case you’re interested.” Derek smiled at his friend softly.

“Julian Larson,” Logan whispered as he tracked the boy skate gracefully across the ice, moving in time with the music, a soft smile on his face. Maybe he has more than just gold to look forward too.

[nonbelievr]

DOUG  HEADCANON :  mother

* this headcanon was inspired by doug’s actor who revealed a backstory he came up regarding doug’s parents

Doug is the second son of Dopey the dwarf and Lily, a handmaiden of Snow Whites. As a child, Doug never understood why his parents argued so much, why his father buried himself within his work or why his mother was always gone but as he got older he began to understand the furious arguing that his parents would engage in and the accusations were always the same.

Dopey was always under the impression that Lily had married him only for his money and that she was a serial cheater. It became clear that his parents did not trust one another and that whatever love they had once had for one another was gone, if it had ever been there to begin with.

Doug watched first hand the way that his father’s mind deteriorated into paranoia and pain, how obsessed he became with every detail of his wife’s life as she continuously denied having ever been unfaithful. Any proof or evidence that Dopey could find was circumstantial and could be easily denied or explained, leaving their arguments unfinished after every accusation. Doug’s relationship with his parents has always been skewered. Between his father’s inability to trust his mother and his mother's constant absences and suspicious behaviors, Doug has always felt torn between his parents, never knowing if he is meant to pick a side or not.

During Doug’s senior year at Auradon Prep he witnesses his mother sharing a passionate kiss with another man. Doug was crestfallen and devastated. Having never really believed his father’s concerns and accusations, he confronted his mother and discovered the truth. Lily had never loved Dopey, approaching their marriage as a business deal and finding her romance with numerous partners over the course of her marriage with Dopey.

While Lily showed clear remorse and guilt for having been found out by Doug, she did not regret having her affairs and when Doug demanded that she come clean to Dopey, she refused, leaving Doug in an uncomfortable position where he was forced to try and decide if he should reveal the truth to his father himself or leave it as a secret.

Doug eventually decided that his father deserved the truth and if Lily would not tell him, then Doug felt responsible to do it for her. Doug expected his father to be as devastated as he was, but Dopey was only relieved. Relieved that he had not imagined it and that finally, he knew the truth. Dopey filed for divorce a week later.

Since the truth came out, Doug’s relationship with his father has grown closer but his relationship with both his mother and his older brother has deteriorated. Derek blames Doug for breaking up their parents while Lily blames Doug for the impending divorce.

To cope with his unstable home and family life, Doug has thrown himself into his studies, the Marching Band and at work.

[acourtcfmuses]

OC Starter Call! 

See the list under the cut! Please specify who you’d like!

ACOTAR:

Rhea Berdara (Gwyn & Catrin’s mom)

Orion (Feyre & Rhys son)

Koa (Mor & Emerie adopted son)

Amberle (Miryam & Drakon adopted daughter)

Asta (Amern & Varian daughter)

Calista (Gwyn & Az daughter)

Eirwan (Vivaine & Kallias son)

Neve (Vivaine & Kallias daughter)

Roux (Autumn Court guard)

Teen Wolf:

Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Lahey (Isaac’s twin)

Nathan ‘Nate’ Dunbar (Liam’s older brother)

Aoife Argent (Agent Cousin)

Veronica ‘Roni’ Meyers (Satomi’s emissary)

Aurora Lycan

Silver Lycan

Lycus Lycan 

Rhudi Lycan

Greyson ‘Grey’ Martin (Lydia’s cousin)

Julie and the Phantoms

Tomas Gajos (verse either as Reggie’s brother 1995 verse or Reggie’s nephew 2020 verse)

MCU:

Megha Novikova (Red Room OC)

Descendants:

Harriet Jones (Semi-Canon HC based - Hook’s daughter)

Lilith Gato (Lucifer the Cat’s daughter)

Hannah Hightopp (Mad Hatter’s Daughter)

Alfreda ‘Freddie’ Facilier (Semi-Canon HC based - Dr Facilier’s daughter)

Sammy Smee (Semi-Canon HC based - Smee’s son)

Derek Bergmann (Dopey’s son)

Matthias Gothel (Mother Gothel’s son)

Julia Darling (John Darling’s daughter)

Jonathan Darling (John Darling’s son)

Alissa Kingsleigh (Alice Kingsleigh’s daughter)

Alistair Kingsleigh (Alice Kingsleigh’s son)

King Club (Son of a Card Guard)

Victor Heart (King of Hearts)

Chesney Cheshire (Cheshire Cat’s son)

Fleur Faery (Fauna’s daughter)

Ruby Fitzherbert (Semi-Canon HC based - Rapunzel’s daughter)

Braxton Snatch (Bandersnatch’s son)

Briar Snatch (Bandersnatch’s daughter)

Kris Bjorgman (Anna & Kristoff’s son)

Astrid Bjorgman (Anna & Kristoff’s daughter)

Gaspard Legume (Gaston’s son)

Jenny Skellington (Jack & Sally’s daughter)

Diana Moors (Diaval’s daughter)

Urina Tow (Undertow’s daughter)

Damian Jones (Davy Jones’ son)

Edwin Hyde (Edward Hyde’s son)

Pace Ratigan (Professor Ratigan’s son)

Lyra Sanderson (Sarah Sanderson’s daughter)

Castor Sanderson (Winifred Sanderson’s son)

Olwen Marmoreal (Mirana Marmoreal’s daughter)

Wesley Clayton (Clayton’s son)

Piotr Potts (Mrs Potts’ son)

Hela Sinclair (Helga Sinclair’s daughter)

Primrose McLeach (Percival McLeach’s daughter)