#Happy Birthday Scott

[strahmed]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SCOTT!!

[idontknowreallywhy]

A little more Birthday fluff for the flyboy.

A glimpse into the future because I’m adamant he must have a happy one. I didn’t actually get time today to write the main part I intended but I shall post now in case I never manage to get there!

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Objectively, Eleven was clearly the best ‘bird.

She was 6-mach faster than One, more manoeuvrable than Shadow and could carry more than her fair share of weight, even if it wasn’t as much as third-generation-turtle Twelve could.

And Scott had flown her like a second skin… he’d been far more involved in Eleven’s design than he had of IR’s original fast response craft. And of course he’d been the primary test pilot, putting more than a few grey hairs on Brains’ and Virgil’s heads in the process. Not to mention his wife’s. He smiled wryly to himself at the memory of the incredibly loud dressing down he’d received post a certain test flight… which had been closely monitored from the island right up until he’d tried out the high speed air to water transition Brains hadn’t fully stress-tested yet and the comms had gone offline for a few minutes. Or ten.

Half an hour at most.

The smile broadened to a grin as he recalled the aftermath of that particular argument… and, Well. Even if six children hadn’t quite been the plan, Scott had really needed to objectively exceed his father’s record at *something*… so… all’s well that ended well.

But Eleven had always been his eldest daughter’s bird.

And the extra machs were irrelevant now. Ever since the the appointment shortly after his 70th birthday when the doctor had forbidden him from exceeding Mach Five. Slower than Two for goodness sakes. His immediate objections had been silenced by a very clear indication that the doctor’s baseline opinion was that it wasn’t wise for a septuagenerian to exceed the speed of sound at all.

Lest he make any fuss that might get back to Virgil… or god forbid IR’s current commander in chief, whose precise combination of his wife’s and his own genes mildly terrified him even now… he nodded meekly. He’d only bent the rules a couple of times in the 5 years since. Maybe three…

Or four.

Eight at most.

Anyway, he’d always maintain One was best: she’d always have an important place in his heart - his first great love.

Which is why, at the newly attained age of 75, as he stood staring moodily out of the lounge window awaiting Eleven’s return to the hangar beneath the pool, his second slipped her hand into his and quietly towed him towards the transport tunnels over to Mateo. The cavern which used to house the old back-up generator, redundant since the island had made the switch to fully renewable energy sources, had been expanded to create a new hangar. It was here the older ‘birds nested quietly, awaiting their occasional moment in the sun as back up to the younger generation.

Nothing was said on the journey, she just squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back. Scott helped her out of the little pod, and he led the way this time to where his pride and joy towered over them, gleaming silver and blue as she ever had. Scott paced an inspection circuit around the base, pausing to buff a smudge from one of the stabilisers with a shirt sleeve. His wife followed, gripping his hand ever so tightly and, he suspected, appraising him as minutely as he was assessing the ship.

Satisfied with what he saw, Scott stood back and smiled up at One, rather fancying she was smiling back down at him. The hand suddenly slipped out of his and he frowned, missing its warmth immediately but his concern was assuaged when both arms wrapped around him from behind and she propped her chin up on his shoulder to whisper in his ear:

“So, Flyboy, are you going to take me for a ride today?”

TBC?

[tinytracys]

John accompanied Scott to a Tracy Industries Board Meeting in the UK and treated him to a belated birthday dinner afterwards…

Right, John, this hunk of beef is more than 7 times our combined body weight. Don’t eat too much onion loaf or you won’t have room for dessert!

Happy birthday Scott. The Real treat is that I’m going to let you use the big knife.

WOOHOO! In your face, Virgil.

NO, SCOTT! We keep blades away from faces. Don’t make me revoke your competent adult licence…

Sorry, John.

The idea of sharing a sweet course was considered but swiftly rejected.

You should be more adventurous, Scott! How can you beat a giant chocolate-filled planet with edible stardust? This is the ultimate dessert.

Everyone knows you’re wrong, John…

[84reedsy]

Happy Birthday to this Sexy, Sweet man!! Rest in POWER, Sir 💜💜💜

Thank you for teaching me so much about him and our Perfect Daddy 😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰

Happy Birthday, my favorite bad guy ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[ilikemcdanno]

Oh my god I forgot it’s the boys’ birthday

[idontknowreallywhy]

Sorry @lenle-g but you’re gonna get a lot of notes from me today because your Scotty gives me life 🥰💙🥰

Also

TINY TEENY SCOTT

Clearly captured during one of the two 20 min periods the kid actually slept…

honestly this is mostly just a reaction to that video that tried to convince us that No1 Dad Jeff didn’t have the same haircolour as his clone first son before he went grey… but also an excellent excuse to draw a TEENY BABBIE SCOTT hehe <33

[idontknowreallywhy]

In honour of The Birthday, I am reposting a little snippet because thus far it is one of my favourite moments I have given him:

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

“I’m going to assume you’re too tired to know what you’re saying which would make it unsporting to throw you in the pool.”

Virgil snorted “You could try!”

“Ssssh, you’ll wake the others.” They’d reached the lounge. Alan had shuffled into the space Virgil had vacated and John had pivoted to the horizontal and was drooling elegantly into the couch cushions. Scott made the speedy situational assessment that reintegrating into the original pile was going to be excessively complicated and thus setting up camp afresh on the other couch would be a better bet.

“Sit” he ordered in as commanding big brother a whisper as he could manage. Virgil obeyed and immediately lost the ability to sit upright. By the time Scott returned with a heap of blankets his head was resting on the arm rest and he was adding his bass rumble to the familiar symphony of Tracy sleep noises.

Scott distributed his stash, ensuring the whole family was adequately tucked in and took a moment to thank God, the universe, whoever it was that finally brought him home to them. Then he lifted Virgil’s legs, acknowledging privately he might have had a point about the pool-throwing thing, and carefully manoeuvred his way on to the couch, snuggling under his own blue blanket. He leant back and allowed his eyes to finally close, enjoying the sense of security the weight of his brother’s feet across his lap provided. As he drifted off he mused on that metaphor… how what an onlooker might see as a burden, could in fact be the most spectacular privilege he could ever ask for.

[tinytracys]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG BRO!

Ahh breakfast pancakes! Thanks Virg!

And you got out your special teapot, Kayo! I’m honoured.

This is all very civilised!!

*squawking and kerfuffle*

Get your stinky foot out of my face Gordo!

Get your stinky whole-self off my seat!

*scuffling*

Guys… GUYS!

Don’t worry, I’ll just eat their pancakes while they are distracted.

Wait, no we can be good! Can’t we bro?

*angelic grin*

Later, it was time for cake and presents…

Everyone, this is amazing, thank you!

*stage whispers* Alan, Bet you $50 you can’t eat a cherry off the top without him noticing…

Gordon, we can hear everything you’re saying!

Easiest $50 I ever won!!

*facepalm*

[catabasis]

“My whole attitude is that, when you work – I try as best I can to pretend I haven’t done anything before, just so that I don’t compare it to anything, because nothing can be like the other thing before it.” — JASON SCHWARTZMAN (born June 26, 1980)

[idontknowreallywhy]

Teacher Scotty!

スコットとアランの共同作業な現場のつもり。

この後たぶんバージルもやってくる。

Scott and Alan are on the scene of rescue.

By the way, thank you for always seeing the work.

I hope you have fun.

[kvtnisseverdeen]

[longingforthecosmos]

happy birthday, Leon!

[idontknowreallywhy]

Happy Birthday, Mr Scott Tracy 💙

I shall commence proceedings by unapologetically spamming you all with happy Scott gifs… all the love to @flyboytracy

[mayberrycryptid]

I ♥️ these two😂😂😂

*New* Meaghan’s Annual Birthday Post for Scotty

via @meaghanrath on insta stories!!

Happy 48th Birthday Scotty!!🎉🥳

[clairewritesandrambles]

Hello, it’s my birthday today, and I was wondering if you would be willing to write a Scott blurb for me about anything at all really 😅 I’m going to be asking Ivy the same question, as I want to see what you both have to say 💕 thank you (smut? 👀)

Oh my god, happy birthday!!!

I feel like this is the perfect excuse to talk about Scott eating pussy, because he definitely makes birthday sex completely about you. That man eats pussy for one reason, and one reason only: To have his ego stroked when he sees you being a complete mess for him.

WARNING: Not beta'd, sorry for any mistakes

NSFW below cut, 18+ only:

You tugged on Scott's hair as he pinched a nipple, the sensation combining with his work between your legs to make you buck your hips in pleasure. He groaned in response to the movement, moving his head to slip his tongue deeper into you. The action made his nose bump into your clit, the overstimulation of the time he has spent between your legs making the tiny contact send shockwaves through your body.

"Scott, fuck, please. Please, come fuck me." You breathed, sinking into the pillows in exhaustion. Scott had already pulled two orgasms from you with his mouth and fingers, his current movements showcasing his intent to coax a third one.

Scott hummed against you, sending vibrations to your clit that had you gasping in response. "You can give me one more, baby. After you let me taste you again, then I'll fuck you into the mattress since you've been such a good girl. Isn't that right, baby?"

Despite how exhausted you were, you nodded at his words. The feeling of his fingers pumping into you was too delicious to deny, your answer reinforced by the praises that dripped from his lips at the sight of your nodding head.

Scott became impossibly more determined in his movements, his fingers moving faster as he curled them to find that delicious spot in you with every thrust. His tongue licked at you, his groans sending vibrations to it as he pushed further into you with his mouth. When he felt you begin to clench around his fingers, pleas for him falling freely from your lips, Scott wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you even closer to his face, his strength keeping you in place while he ate you like his life depended on it.

You peered down at him between your thighs at the sound of muffled encouragement around your core, the sight before you throwing you over the edge. Scott's eyes were closed as he desperately ate you out, his dark hair curling over his forehead.

Scott groaned deeply in pleasure as he licked at your arousal, not stopping his motions until you were begging for a break. He left one last kiss on your clit before making his way up your body, stopping to suck on your sweet spots to entice more strangled noises from you.

"Taste so fucking good, baby," he groans, lips falling towards yours. "Have some for yourself." He closes the gap, tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself, hand cradling his cheek as you deepened the kiss. "You did so well for me," he cooed, hips moving to align the tip of his cock with your entrance. "You're gonna come that many times on my cock, got it?" You didn't know if you could survive another three orgasms, but the look in Scott's eyes was all the encouragement you needed.

"Good girl," he praised, slowly sinking into you as you stretched around him.

[lenle-g]

@human-still-developing asked:

Hey Len! My good friend Kat (@silverstarfics) is working on a multi-fic work called "Yesterday's Promise". I've attached a short excerpt and if it strikes your fancy I think she would love some fanart for her birthday soon <333

There was a faint pressure. Scott tracked it back to his hands and blinked, once, twice, realising that John was right in front of him and they were sitting on the floor and John was holding his hands, squeezing.

"Too dark," he choked out.

"EOS, lights, lowest setting."

The shadows retreated back to their corners. Light was good. Light was a barricade against sneak attacks. But light wasn't safe. Nothing was safe. Even here, home, away from the main threat that crept ever closer, there was no safety, not when the danger was in their own minds. Good luck finding secure ground when the foundations of your subconscious were crumbling.

Protect your brothers.

Except when you're the one putting them at greater risk.

"I f-froze."

John winced. "Right. That."

Typically, rooms weren't supposed to spin. Then again, typically Scott didn't feel like he was having a heart attack, so, you know… fun times. Talking of time, he was taking up too much of it. Too much everything. Take a breath, there's oxygen here somewhere, oh look, John's talking again…

"Scott."

John sounded strangely panicked. John never sounded panicked. Occasionally overwhelmed but never properly panicked. And yet…

Why is he crying, a small, logical part of Scott's brain asked, filled with concern because he could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen John cry.

"Come back to me."