#also to be clear no shade at Scotty he’s great and he’s got a lot going for him but in a regency romance he’d have everybody on accent alon

[sesamestreep]

it really is SUCH a shame that there’s no episode of TOS where the enterprise crew time jumps to Regency-era England or goes to a planet that modeled its culture on that era or something, because it would truly slap for every single main character. Like I don’t even have to explain why this would be awesome for Spock— Mr. I’ll-smash-a-computer-with-my-bare-hands-before-I’ll-admit-I’m-horny himself, king of repression, who basically recreated the famous Pride and Prejudice Hand Flex Scene™️ with his beloved Captain that one time, who meets a blind woman with a high tech gown that helps her “see” and LITERALLY tells her to give his compliments to her dressmaker, who mislead a woman once about his affections and tenderly promised to safeguard her reputation forever about it, who has the perfect angular features to be set off by a cravat—I mean, you get it, but then you’ve also got Kirk—handsome, affable, brave Naval captain who loves his crew more than himself, who falls in like deep profound love with every woman the plot throws at him—and then McCoy—cantankerous, sure, (ever heard of a grumpy/sunshine trope??) but with impeccable, downright old school manners towards women and, yeah, a doctor’s not that prestigious in Regency times, but for like a young lady in trouble who needs the protection of a man’s name or who just wants to piss off her stuffy aristocrat family by marrying “beneath” them, who could be better? If you throw Scotty in the mix, well, he’s Scottish, which [points at a whole subgenre of regency romance novels] is all he’d really need. I’m just saying they would have CLEANED UP, okay??

[jbbarnesnnoble]

JBBarnesNNoble's 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Challenge 2021

Hello lovely people! And welcome to the 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge. The aim of this challenge is to shine a light on mental health, medical conditions, and the things that can have impacts on us. This started out initially being a PCOS Awareness challenge last year but through conversations with other writers over Discord, it evolved into a Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge last year. I’m reusing some of the unused prompts from last year’s challenge and adding in some new ones!

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The goal of this challenge is to lift each other up, and show that it’s okay not to be okay. Spread some love and light during a challenging time in the world to those who struggle with chronic illness, depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, grief, PCOS, acceptance from their families and communities for being LGBT+, and anyone struggling with insecurity.

This challenge will run through July 31st, 2021. It will run through Mental Health Awareness Month, Pride Month, and the month of July to give people time to write. You can submit it at any time. I probably have too many prompts, but I wanted to ensure that there was a wide array to choose from. Please don’t hesitate to message me if I haven’t interacted with your fic after a few days! Sometimes the tag system doesn’t work and I miss things!

The Rules:

1. Utilize resources available online if you’re dealing with subject matter you’re not that familiar with. I’m not going to go all “cite sources” on y’all, but please do make sure to do your research. Writing about some of these issues can be hard if you don’t have first hand knowledge of how it can affect you. The goal of this challenge is to write about topics that we tend to shy away from, that many of us struggle with, from mental health struggles to chronic illnesses to low-self esteem. A gentle reminder that if you think writing about a subject will be triggering for you, please look after yourself first.

2. Use #JBBNNMHAM21 to tag your fic

3. Dark!Fic- Due to the subject matter involved in this challenge, please don’t submit dark!fic. I enjoy dark fics, but this challenge isn’t the place for them.

4. Smut- Smut is welcome! Make sure you tag it appropriately.

5. No inc*st, dubcon/noncon, underage, etc

6. Ships- I prefer reader inserts, but show me what ya got.

7. NO JOHN WALKER FICS. Please. Please no. I beg of you.

8. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! The song prompts have a line from them under it. You DO NOT need to use the line in your submission! It’s mostly to help you decide if you’re interested in a song before you take a listen to it.

You also can alter the sentence and dialogue prompts as needed for grammar, be it altering the pronouns used or changing the pluralization of a word.

9. Trigger Warnings: Use warnings as needed. Fics dealing with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, or other mental health issues should be tagged appropriately to ensure that readers that may be triggered by the subject matter can avoid the fic. Trigger warnings are non-negotiable

The prompts are under the cut!

Prompts:

Dialogue Prompts:

“I feel like if I let go, if I move on, I’ll only be proving them right.”

“I don’t know. Am I? Because from where I’m standing it’s pretty damn clear that’s how you see me.”

“You don’t believe that do you? Tell me you don’t. Please.”

“It’d probably be easier if you left”

“Please leave me alone”

“Everyone’s got broken pieces. Some have more, some have less. It doesn’t make you less of a person to have those broken pieces.” @nekoannie-chan

“If it’s okay with you, I’ll take that shake now.”

“What’s the point if I’m going to end up breaking that promise too?”

“You sure about that, moonman?”

“It made you smile though. And that will always be a win in my book.”

“That’s not true. And I will tell you that every day of your life until you believe me.”

Sentence Prompts:

Feel free to adjust the pronouns as needed

It was a day. It was the only way it could be described.

Summer had a smell that reminded her of innocence and a time long since past.

In that moment, the world stopped spinning on its axis as it all shattered down around her.

Some things, there would never be a way to understand. @justrunamok

Like shattered glass, in that moment the illusion was broken.

Forever was a lie, just like everything else.

If you had another condescending doctor tell you your problem wasn’t a problem you were going to scream.

They’d say it was easy, like riding a bike. Except, you never learned how to ride a bike in the first place.

Today was going to be good. It had to be.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was going south.

AU and Trope Prompts:

Soulmate @samsgoddess

College

Childhood Friends @tellmealovestory

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

Musicians

Writer

Professional Athlete

Teacher

Coffee Shop

Fake Dating

Accidental Marriage

Royal

Librarian

Doctor

Song Prompts:

1. Nobody Ever Told You - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “Wish you could see yourself the way I do. Nobody ever told you, nobody ever told you. Shine like a diamond, glitter like gold, and you need to know what nobody ever told you”

2. Missing You - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “And if you need a friend, I’ll help you stitch up your wounds. I heard that you’ve been, having some trouble finding your place in the world. I know how much that hurts. But if you need a friend, then please just say the word.”

3. Barefoot and Bruised - Jamestown Story

Lyric Snippet: “Maybe when your sky comes crashing down, I can be your angel on the ground. If you get tired and can’t go on, I will carry you along, when the rocks below your feet wear out your shoes, when you’re barefoot and bruised”

4. Hold On Till May- Pierce the Veil

Lyric Snippet: “If were you, I’d put that away. See you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again. Darling, you’ll be okay.”

5. If I Surrender - Citizen Soldier

Lyric Snippet: “If I surrender, surrender, to the monsters in me, will it set me free?”

6. Home - Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, Beba Rexha

Lyric Snippet: “All these miles, feet, inches, they can’t add up to the distance that I have been through just to get to a place where even if there’s no closure I’m still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. Somebody give me a sign, I’m starting to lose faith”

7. Broken Arrows - Daughtry

Lyric Snippet: “The best of intentions I lay at your feet. And I need you to see past the worst part of me.”

8. Used - Serious Matters

Lyric Snippet: “The wounds are gone and the pain still lingers. But this time I won’t stand by, I don’t need you in my life”

9. According to You - Orianthi

Lyric Snippet: “According to you, I’m stupid, I’m useless, I can’t do anything right”

10. Let It Land - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And everything we hate is something we just bought along the line”

11. Cold As You - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey. And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. And you come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you”

12. Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “Hold on, baby you’re losing it. The water’s high, you’re jumping into it, and letting go, and no one knows. That you cry but you don’t tell anyone that you might not be the golden one. And you’re tied together with a smile, but you’re coming undone.”

13. Human Interaction - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “I don’t know love. I don’t know hate. I am numb. Wish I could find the words to say. Asking please, as colors fade. I need to breathe. Before I turn the world to grey.”

14. Therapy - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything. Therapy you were never a friend to me, and you can keep all your misery”

15. Scars - Alison Iraheta

Lyric Snippet: “Do you know how hard I’ve tried to become what you want me to be. Take me, this is all that I’ve got, this is all that I’m not, all that I’ll ever be. I got flaws, I got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart. It doesn’t matter who you are, we’ve all got our scars”

16. Hurts to Know - 1551

Lyric Snippet: “I can’t remember what I did to earn you by my side. I can’t surrender. I’ll fight as long as you’re in my life”

17. Spinning Bottles - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “He’s in a hotel room, with the tv on. Getting lost in the static with the curtains drawn, knowing this could be the time that gets her gone for good, he’d quit if he could. But one down, two down, three down, four, can’t even recognize the man in the mirror anymore”

18. Praying - Kesha

Lyric Snippet: “Well you were wrong and now the best is yet to come. ‘Cause I can make it on my own. And I don’t need you, I found a strength I’ve never known.”

19. Jersey On the Wall (I’m Just Asking) - Tenille Townes

Lyric Snippet: “If I ever get to heaven, you know I got a long list of questions. Like how do you make a snowflake, are you angry when the earth quakes? How does the sky change in a minutes, how do you keep this big rock spinning? Why can’t you stop a car from crashing? Forgive me, I’m just asking”

20. Five More Minutes - Scotty McCreery

Lyric Snippet: “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times. Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by like it ain’t nothing, wish I had me a, a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes”

21. Dad’s Old Number - Cole Swindell

Lyric Snippet: “Sometimes I forget, these ten digits ain’t my lifeline anymore. Every now and then I dial them up when life gets tough or when the Braves score. Sorry about the one ring hang ups, early morning and late night wake ups. It was just me. In case you wondered, you’ve got dad’s old number.”

22. The Other Side - Lauren Alaina

Lyric Snippet: “There’s gonna be a lot of sadness on a lot of happy days, I’ll try to think of this moment, this place”

23. I Was Here - Beyonce

Lyric Snippet: “So they won’t forget I was here. I lived. I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here.”

24. Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

Lyric Snippet: “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me. And I’ll never be the same here without you. You were gone too soon.”

25. Amelia - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And you will always be perfect, you’ll always be beautiful, our hearts, will never forget you. You didn’t belong here, and it’s become so clear why heaven called your name.”

26. Heaven Right Now - Thomas Rhett

Lyric Snippet: “When the whole crew gets together, memory lane goes on forever. We twist a top and pour a little Jack D out.”

[gumnut-logic]

When the World Goes Boom (Part 5)

Okay, this chapter was a challenge and involved lots of whiny Nutty throwing hissy fits. It is also over twice the size of any of the previous parts.

Spoilers & Warnings: Spoilers for season three, angst, 3931 words

Many thanks to @scribbles97​​ and @i-am-chidorixblossom​​ for putting up with my crazy and reading this at random moments.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

I hope you enjoy it ::hugs::

-o-o-o-

Alan was exhausted after his dressings change, but to be honest, he was ever so happy to see Gordon regardless.

Virgil ruffled his hair and said something about grabbing coffee and going back to see Scott, and left him with his aquanaut brother.

It wasn’t exactly relief he felt at the change of brothers. He loved Virgil, but things were different with Gordon. He had to act less grown up and could be more the kid he sometimes felt like. Gordon never really grew up, so Alan felt less pressure to be the adult.

And besides Gordon was his big brother.

As Virgil had pushed his hoverbed out of the consultation room, they had picked up their security. Jeremy was hanging with Virgil today.

Alan had Brie.

He liked the tiny security specialist. She had a nice smile and was barely tall enough to look him in the eye. Something that was refreshing for a youngest who had to look up at almost every other member of his family.

Except for Gordon, but he was special. Not that he would ever mention that.

On the other hand, Brie may be small, but he had the strongest impression she was quite capable of removing his head from his body with her bare hands. Occasionally Kayo would run the personal team through sparring matches, always an interesting spectator sport for the brothers, each cheering their favourite. Brie had managed to outsmart even the older expert, Jeremy. And she looked good doing it.

Not that Alan would ever admit that little opinion.

Her soft smile at him was cute, though.

Gordon, of course, had Iz with him.

Iz was scary. She hid in the shadows more often than not. Her nose ring, short purple hair and stoic appearance was intimidating. Yes, he had thought the word. Intimidating.

Gordon thought she was groovy.

Alan thought Gordon spent too much time with his retro junk and needed a vocabulary transplant.

But, in any case, both women were highly competent and came with a Kayo stamp of approval.

“Hey, Gords, can we go out into the garden?” He really didn’t want to go back into that room. Seeing Scott upset just hurt. He tried to not show how much it freaked him out, but right now? He was too tired to face it.

“Sure, Allie.” Auckland City Hospital sat next to some extensive gardens and while it wasn’t necessarily encouraged, patients and rebellious Tracys often went out there to escape the sterile corridors and reconnect to the world around them. One advantage of living on an island in the middle of the Pacific was the constant contact with the ocean and its ecosystem. For Gordon it was simply sighting the ocean in the distance that helped. For Alan it was less clear but all the Tracys, if hospitalised ended up out here at some point.

Scott had once had to chase a half delirious Virgil out onto the grass.

It gave security grey hair, but that’s why they were so well paid.

The corridors were stark as with any hospital. Alan let his eyes skip from sign to sign as the fluorescent lights flickered overhead. Windows into other worlds slid past.

At one point his eyes landed on a set of open doors with a radiation symbol blaringly decorating the wall beside it.

Radiology.

Alan blinked.

Had he been here? Something felt wrong. “Gords, can we stop a moment?”

“What? Sure?” His brother looked at the doors. “Why? Feel like getting your innards scanned?”

Alan frowned and ignored him. There was something about that radiation sign. “Have I been here?”

Gordon frowned a little. “Not this time. The medscanners told us enough. Scott has though. For his concussion.” A pause as Alan continued to stare at the gaping doors. “You came here for your broken arm when you were twelve. Remember that?”

Vague. “Yeah.” Maybe that was it. It had been a nasty break and hurt like hell. Not a happy memory. “That must be it.” A man exited the department and the doors closed. More warning signs appeared.

Alan frowned more.

“You okay?”

“Hmm.” Alan shook himself. He needed to get out of this building. It was driving him bonkers. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

“Sure.” But there was a subtle worry in his brother’s voice.

Gordon pushed him out into the sun and Alan closed his eyes against its brightness, but revelled in its warmth.

Of course, it wasn’t as warm as home, but the rustling of a nearby palm tree was reassuringly familiar.

“I’m going to find some shade to park you under. No need to risk that fragile skin of yours with a sunburn.”

Alan scrunched up his face. “I’m not fragile.”

Gordon snorted, but continued to push him easily down the laneway towards the gardens. Security bracketed them. Iz, spoke into her comm quietly. Waitemata Harbour came into view in the distance with Rangitoto looming over everything.

The breeze tickled Alan’s hair.

His brother found them a tree with a view and parked them, brakes secured. “How’s that?”

“Great. Thanks, Gordy.”

Gordon dumped himself on the end of Alan’s bed and a silence fell as Alan let the outside world wash away the antiseptic smells clinging to him.

“How are you feeling?” Gordon’s question was quiet.

“I’m okay. Got me on the good stuff.” He opened his eyes to find his brother’s concerned gaze corrupted by just a hint of a smile. “Don’t worry. One advantage of that procedure is they dose me up and as long as you don’t prod me, I can’t feel a thing.” He threw his own smile into the pot, desperate to remove that worry off his big bro’s face.

Of course, that prompted Gordon to poke his foot with one finger. Repeatedly.

Alan rolled his eyes. “How is everyone?” He hadn’t meant to ask, but it came out without thought. Probably because it was foremost in thought.

Gordon shrugged. “Okay. Virgil has gone all motherhen. John has disappeared into the office. I have no idea what he is doing in there. The media is starting to calm down, so I guess that is part of it, but Eos is snarly and defensive.”

“Eos always snarls at you. And you know why.”

“Not my fault she can’t take a joke.”

Alan smirked. Gordon was going have to rethink pranking John in the future. His watchdog didn’t take nicely to any threat to her father, marshmallow or not.

“How about Dad?”

“Well, you’ve seen him. Shell shocked are the words I’d use. You talk to him at all?”

Alan shook his head just a little. To be honest, he didn’t know what to say. His dad looked lost, almost fearful. While he loved him dearly, really…he still didn’t know his Dad as well as he wanted too. While the man offered comfort, it was awkward and hesitant and Alan was hesitant in return.

The familiarity of his brothers was just a relief.

There was so much guilt in there.

“This sucks.” Alan’s voice was desolate.

“Totally.”

“I just wish Scotty would get better. I hate seeing him like that.” It was horrifying. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry before.” His voice had gotten small.

“I have.”

Alan looked up at his brother. “What? When?”

“After the Zero X. Virgil found him in Dad’s office. I don’t think they knew I was there and I wasn’t there for long.” Gordon’s eyes dropped to the grass. “But this is different. He will get better, Allie.”

“God, I hope so.”

His train of thought was interrupted as Brie approached from the right. “Mr Gordon, Mr Alan, Kayo has requested you return to the room. There has been an incident.”

Alan immediately sat up straighter. “What happened? Is everyone okay?” Gordon slipped off the end of the bed and moved to the head, already disengaging the brakes.

“A threat has been made against the Tracy family and we have been requested to move you to a more secure location.”

A threat? Alan reached for his comms and realised that he wasn’t wearing any having been reduced to a hospital gown for his procedure. “I need my comms.”

Gordon’s eyes darted to him. “You do. Brie, make sure Alan gets his comms. If there is a security issue, he needs to be connected to the network.”

“Yes, Mr Gordon.”

“Kill the ‘Mister’, Brie. You know me better than that.”

“I most certainly do, Mr Gordon.”

“What?”

Iz swept in, expression stony and professional, and they were moving back towards the hospital.

As they passed radiology, Alan once again stared at the signs on the doors. The doors were closed, but something still stirred in his gut.

Something he couldn’t quite grasp.

-o-o-o-

Her eldest grandson clung to her as if he was a six-year-old again.

She couldn’t help but cling to him in return. It was disturbing to see the usually strong and emotionally private man so vulnerable.

“C’mon, Scotty, talk to me.”

Another rough indrawn breath and he slowly pulled away. Exhausted, red-rimmed blue eyes stared up at her, almost pleading. “Tell me, Alan’s okay.”

“Alan is okay, honey. He has a couple of nasty burns, but he will heal.”

“That’s what Dad said.”

“Of course, that’s what your father said, because it’s the truth.”

Something flickered in those eyes. Voice faint and dry. “I don’t know what is the truth anymore.” Scott fell back against his pillows with a hopeless sigh.

Sally reached out and stroked his hair. “Be kind to yourself, honey. You were injured, give your body a chance to heal.

“He called me for help, Grandma.”

She frowned. “Who?”

“Alan.”

“When?”

“Before the explosion. I remember his voice. He needed me and I wasn’t there.”

This was new. She sat down on the edge of the bed, but didn’t stop her ministrations. “Are you sure?

The anguish returned. “I don’t know, Grandma. I just keep hearing him.” Both hands came up and covered his face.

“Shh, shh, shh, honey. It’s okay.” His hair needed a wash, the strands stiff from old product and sweat. She didn’t stop stroking.

“Alan was hurt.”

“Yes, he was. But he is going to be fine.”

“H-He called me for help, but I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t help him, Grandma.” Wet, blue eyes widened. “Why couldn’t I help him?”

“You had three people under your care, Scott.”

“But Alan-“

“Alan is going to be okay.”

It wasn’t enough. Her grandson’s brow crinkled in anguish. “He’s my littlest brother, Grandma. Why couldn’t I help him?”

Whatever answer she was going to give him was interrupted by an urgent knock on the door. Before either of them could acknowledge it, Kayo stuck her head in. “Sorry to interrupt.” Her eyes widened at the sight of her big brother. “We have a problem.”

-o-o-o-

It took Virgil far too many seconds to put the likely scenario together in his head. A sign of how tired he actually was.

Lemaire continued to babble until the reporter gave up and cut him off. The ‘projector switched to an advertisement and the café settled down with only one or two people eyeing Virgil and his father with curious frowns.

“Who was that?”

Virgil’s tone was derogatory enough to smear the man’s name into the carpet with his boot. “Repeat customer. Unfortunately, his wealth is inversely proportional to his intelligence.” His father frowned, no doubt at Virgil’s disrespect. “He’s very rich, Dad.”

“But why is he threatening us?”

“That I need to find out.” Though he had his suspicions. This was not the place to discuss them. “We need to head back to the room.”

His father stood up. “Agreed.”

There were still eyes on them. Jez and Gerry’s gazes were like laser beams sweeping the room. Virgil sighed and stood.

They made their way quickly back to the room. Encountering Alan and Gordon in the hallway, Virgil assisted Gordon in manoeuvring Alan’s bed back through the door. To Virgil’s relief, Scott was actually sitting up in bed. He appeared drawn and tired, but he was awake.

Scott’s eyes tracked Alan from the moment he entered the room.

Alan just grinned and waved like he was on a float in a Christmas parade.

Kayo was fidgety. Not that the average person would notice, but Virgil was family and the stoic security officer was literally vibrating on the spot under her calm façade.

They got Alan settled and the entire family arrayed around the room, except for one obvious omission.

Virgil yanked out his phone and sent a priority call to his missing brother. “John, what did you do?”

John’s hologram was dressed in that godawful shirt Virgil wanted to burn. The only reason he hadn’t was because it was tailored to provide gravity support to the astronaut when he was on Earth, the piping providing both sensory output and pressure adjustments as needed.

But it was the last time Virgil was ever going to let his brother choose a colour, ugh.

“Tracy Industries bought Oxy-Baker.”

His father, who had been standing behind Virgil, stepped forward. “Why would you do that?”

Holographic turquoise eyes flashed. “We have history, Dad. The safety systems built into Oxy-Baker reclamation systems are atrocious. This was the fourth time we almost lost an operative to this business. We need to put an end to it.”

The tension emanating off his father was extreme. “Why now?”

John’s eyes flickered to Scott and back. “Why not? When Scott is incapacitated, his Tracy Industries responsibilities fall to me. I saw an opportunity, I took it.”

His father’s eyes shot to Virgil, and yes, Virgil felt guilt regarding that, but Tracy Industries was safer in John’s hands than his, and besides, when Scott was incapacitated, Virgil usually had his hands full with his brothers and International Rescue.

“You’ve created an incident that could have been avoided.”

“There is no incident, Dad. The job is done. We now own Oxy-Baker and can work to fix its many problems.” John obviously considered the problem solved.

His father most certainly did not. “I’m coming home and we will discuss this.”

John froze. “Dad?”

But their father’s expression was firm. “I will speak to you when I get home.”

“Yes, father.”

The respect in John’s tone was there, but it wasn’t. Before their Dad could respond, he blinked out.

Grey eyes frowned.

Oh shit.

The room was silent for a moment, each of the boys staring up at their father, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Dad, John knows what he is doing.”

Those grey eyes flickered to Virgil. “I’m sure he does.” But the sincerity wasn’t there.

Shit.

It had been a long time since he had seen his father angry, but apparently that time was up. “Dad, read the mission reports. There is ample reason for John’s response.”

“Perhaps, but not without discussing it first.”

“I trust him.” The words were parched and tired, but they came from Scott. For the first time those blue eyes, despite being bloodshot and weary, were clear. “I trust John to do what needs to be done.”

Their father continued to frown, but a flash of vulnerability and uncertainty crossed his expression before it once again firmed. “I will discuss it with John.”

“Jeff?” Virgil jumped. He had forgotten his grandmother was in the room. “You need sleep. We are going home.” She stood up off Scott’s bed and brushed her fingers against his cheek. “You feel better, Scotty, you hear me?”

His hand gently took hers and squeezed. “Yes, Grandma.”

She leant over and kissed his forehead, before moving around the end of his bed and doing the same to Alan. A squeeze of Gordon’s hand and a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and she was opening the door. “Jeff?”

Virgil looked up at his father and discovered exhaustion itself. Quietly. “You need sleep, Dad.”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” The snarl in those words had Virgil stepping back.

“Jeff.” Grandma’s tone was firm as was her frown.

Their father nodded once, his eyes darting to each of his boys before he turned and left.

The door closed quietly behind him.

“Shit.” It was an exhaled breath from Gordon as he stared at the door. “Dad’s pissed.”

“Dad is exhausted.” Virgil’s tone was just as firm as Grandma’s.

“You better warn John.” Scott’s voice was still dry and Virgil took those few extra steps closer to his bedside, taking the space left by his grandmother.

A quick comm to John and his exasperated response bounced about the room. “Lemaire was asking for it.”

Virgil’s tone was reassuring. “I’m not the one you’ll have to convince. It was Dad’s business. We should have thought of how he would react.”

John’s sigh was just as tired as any of the Tracys. “Eos has killed the newsfeed. Damage control is in place. Lemaire is still an idiot. He just made it easier with all his chest puffing and grandstanding.” A pause. “Scott?”

Virgil tilted the holoreceiver in his big brother’s direction. “Yes, John?”

John visibly relaxed at the sight of the prone pilot. “Good to see you.”

Scott managed a small smile. “Same. You keeping the execs on their toes?”

A smirk. “Always. You know they love me.”

That smile widened. “Like a case of shingles.” A sigh. “Dad will understand.”

“I hope so.”

“Batten down the hatches.”

“FAB.”

John blinked out and once again the room fell silent. Scott lost the smile and once again fell to tired and wan. “Scott, how about we go out for a little sunshine.”

Kayo immediately started. “Virgil, security-“

He held up a hand. “Task us with as many officers as you like. Scott has been in here for days.”

“Virgil-“

“Okay.” Scott’s voice cut off the both of them and sudden touch of elation in those bloodshot eyes was enough to cancel out the minor risk involved.

Virgil turned to Kayo. “We won’t go far.”

She glared. “No, you won’t because, I’m going with you.”

He shrugged. “Fine. We’ll enjoy your company.” And before any further protest could arise, He undocked Scott’s hoverbed and pushed it towards the exit. A glance in Kayo’s direction, which prompted another glare from his sister, and she opened the door, while simultaneously speaking over her comms.

He arched an eyebrow as both Jez and Iz appeared in the hallway as Virgil and Scott emerged from the room.

“You’re going to pay for this one, Virg.” There was a touch of amusement in Scott’s tired voice.

Virgil grinned. “It’s worth it.”

-o-o-o-

Alan stared as the door shut behind his brothers and sister, leaving the room suddenly empty except for Gordon and himself.

“Well, that was entertaining.” Gordon resumed his perch on the end of Alan’s bed.

Alan didn’t answer him.

“You okay?”

“Hmm?”

“Dad and John will work it out, don’t worry.”

Alan ignored him and hit his comms. “Eos, you there?”

“Yes, Alan, how are you feeling?”

“Getting better. Hey, could you please send the mission report and recordings to my tablet?”

“Are you sure? Mrs Tracy would be upset if you are tiring yourself out.” There was proof of intelligence for you, respect for Grandma. Or it could just be a survival instinct.

Now Gordon was frowning at him.

“I’m good, Eos, I just need to check by memories against what actually happened. Call it a data check.”

“Oh, okay, sending now.”

His tablet on the bedtable pinged and he grabbed it.

“Allie, whatcha doing?”

“I remember something.”

Gordon’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m not sure. It’s vague and it’s bugging me.” He pulled up the reports. John’s neat English bouncing off the screen, explaining the lead up to the explosion and the resultant rescue of his brothers. He pulled up the comm records and listened to the bounce back between himself and Scott just before the explosion. It was extremely odd to hear himself saying words he didn’t remember. Alan helped his brother secure the three rescuees and then returned to the habitat for one last reconnaissance in order to declare the site clear.

His last transmission was “Scott! I need-“ The signal cut as Thunderbird Five’s sensors registered the explosion.

Alan frowned, something stirring in his gut. It felt wrong. Something was wrong. Without saying a thing, he pulled the full sensor logs from Five. He tracked his position and Scott’s position. The rescuees trailed out behind his brother. They were the only lifesigns on sensors.

He watched himself stop not far from the fuel tanks, the distance that had nearly taken his life. Why did he stop? The signal went out to Scott. “Scott! I need-“ And the eruption of heat was blinding.

“What did I need?”

He jumped as he realised Gordon was standing right next to him, staring over his shoulder. “Alan? Talk to me.”

“I...I remember a radiation symbol. You know, the same one on the radiology doors. The fuel tanks were carbon-based fuels, not radioactive. But I remember that symbol.” His finger poked the tablet and the recording replayed. “What did I need?”

“Take a deep breath, Allie.”

Alan frowned at his brother. “I’m fine. It means something, I just don’t know what.”

Gordon reached over and poked the tablet a couple of times. “Check out what the station was stocking. Those reclamation plants pull all sorts of things out of old junk.”

“I already checked. They had space for radioactive materials. Most of the older satellites were nuclear powered. But their storage bins were recorded as empty. John checked that before we even arrived on site in case we needed to take precautions.”

Gordon sat on the bed beside him, his frown getting deeper by the moment. A tap of his comms. “Eos?”

“Yes, Gort?”

Gordon groaned.

Alan snorted. The names changed each time and each time was always amusing. Gordon was going to regret that joke for a lifetime.

“I’m not in the mood, Eos. This is serious.”

“Yes, Thunderbird Fork.”

“Gah. Eos, I said I’m sorry.”

“You said this was important, Gork.”

“Can you please give us a rundown on the supply and delivery runs to and from Oxy-Baker Reclamation Station 094 leading up to the incident.”

“Most certainly, Pork.”

Alan couldn’t help the grin as the data rolled onto his tablet. Three pages in it became obvious that there was a data error.

“These numbers don’t match.” Alan was glaring at the tables. “The carbon-based fuel capacity is to be expected, but they haven’t had a pickup for either their radioactive materials or precious metals in two weeks and yet both storage crates register nothing.”

“Maybe they had a dip in processing. Eos? Can we access their reclamation intake rate?”

“One moment, Mork.”

Alan grinned again. “Ork, ork, ork!”

He was rewarded by a scuff up the back of his head.

“Hey, injured here.”

Eos ignored their by-play. “According to their records, there was no dip in processing or change in product salvage. In fact, they recently broke down one of the earlier military reconnaissance satellites just this week. Definitely nuclear powered. Those statistics are incorrect.”

Alan stared at the numbers and fought his memory, begging it to give him more. The sick feeling in his gut got worse. “I think something happened, Gordy.”

A hand landed on his good shoulder and squeezed. He looked up at his brother and found concern in those russet brown eyes. “Allie?”

But he knew Gordon knew the answer before he said it.

“I don’t think the explosion was an accident.”

-o-o-o-

End Part Five

[ifdragonscouldtalk]

and they were ROOMMATES (a love story pieced together in bathroom tiles)

inspired by this post

Leonard still thought Jim’s decision to put him as the second officer was dumb as shit, especially considering he only had very basic and standard command training, but given that the admiralty was stupid enough to sign off on the assignment he was stuck in the position. He didn’t begrudge the larger, mostly private quarters though, especially after three years and some change of bunking with the adult-infant that was James T. Kirk and four years before that of Joanna and Jocelyn. It’d been awhile since he’d truly been on his own, and as he unpacked his meager possessions in a room that felt too large, he wondered whether it was going to be truly good for him. 

Anything was better than Jim waking up naked in his bed with a hangover though, he supposed. 

He did share a jack-and-jill bathroom with another high ranking officer, but that would most likely not be an issue. It wasn’t the communal bathrooms of the Academy dorms, at least, and he could guarantee some level of sanitization if he had any say in it, so there was that. He had complaints about how far the room was from Medbay, but Jim had already approved (unofficially, but who cared about the bureaucracy) his desire to put a cot in his office down there. Jim had conveniently forgotten to tell him who he would be sharing with, but his bets were on Scotty, and if that was the case at least he would have some decent alcohol and a decent person to share it with. He grabbed his bath kit to find someplace to store it, and pondered over rooming alone for the first time in years, although “alone” was a mislabel on a starship. He would never be alone; he’d probably be damn pleased he had this room to himself, at least the bathroom door locked. 

He reconsidered this conclusion when he saw Spock blinking at him placidly from the other bathroom doorway. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Jim, this is damn unacceptable!” 

“Captain, the Doctor is quite upset at the room arrangements-” 

“Damn right I’m upset! Spock, do you want to share a bathroom with me?”

“That is irrelevant, Doctor, as the assignments have already been made.” Spock tilted his head in that way Leonard had learned he did when he found something about Humans particularly confusing, and he hated that he found it endearing, scowling furiously while Jim and the rest of the Bridge burst into laughter. 

“I’m so sleeping in Sickbay,” he grumbled to himself.

Spock thought he drank too much coffee.

Correction: Spock thought he replicated too much coffee. Leonard rarely got around to actually drinking it before it was cold, as evidenced by the cups that got strewn across the bathroom counter whenever he was inevitably called in early due to an emergency, or forgot to pick it back up after shaving, or put it down after wincing because he had just brushed his teeth, or he left it as he took a shower and forgot he had replicated it in the first place. 

It said something about Spock that, however much he logically complained about this habit, he still made his own habit of cleaning the cups and clearing them out of the restroom before Leonard got back to collapse after his shift, and always sneakily left a fresh cup of decaf on his desk for him to drink as he decompressed. 

Leonard was exhausted, sweaty and filthy and shaking, and all he wanted to do was take a long shower and collapse for about thirteen hours. His room smelled like stale coffee, and he stripped his uniform on the way to the bathroom, not caring at this point how much of his nakedness Spock saw. 

There were cups on the bathroom sink. 

Two, to be exact. One he had replicated before he got in the shower that morning, and one he had gotten after he had changed into his uniform and went to straighten his hair and do his make up. They were cold now, and as Leonard saw himself and the cups reflected in the mirror, his own ragged eyes watching him warily, a stain of green on the cut of his jaw where his mask hadn’t been secured properly, he felt tears well up in his eyes. 

Spock was in Sickbay, and for awhile there Leonard hadn’t known if he would wake up at all. 

The cups shattered against the side of the shower, and he tile was cold as he curled up and sobbed.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to hide his whiskey under the bathroom sink, but while his room could be inspected whenever they were at a starbase, it was less likely anyone would ever check the bathrooms. He expected Spock to find them and throw them out, because although not prohibited necessarily, alcohol on a Starfleet vessel was probably highly illogical, or something like that, but even if he had found the whiskey he hadn’t said anything. 

Which would’ve been great, if Leonard wasn’t far too sober and couldn’t even get the damn bottle open. 

He was sweating with how hard he had been straining, half ready to smash the bottle against the floor just to take out his frustrations in a different manner, when the door on Spock’s side of the room slid open soundlessly. The Vulcan stared at him, and Leonard scowled back, and he could’ve sworn there was amusement in Spock’s eyes as he took in the scene. He was prepared for a lecture: he wasn’t prepared for Spock to step forward, pluck the bottle from his hands, fill the glass he had left on the counter up to two fingers, and then screw the lid back on and hand it back, retreating once more. 

He blinked, looking down at the bottle again before trying once more to open it. The lid didn’t budge, and he felt himself baring his teeth. 

“Damn it, Spock, you ass!”

Leonard could admit he was jealous of Spock’s shadow palette. He was jealous of the fact that Spock had a fucking ten-step skin and hair routine in the mornings and still managed to get done in one-fourth of the time it took him to get ready. He was jealous of the fact that Spock looked good effortlessly, and Leonard looked like hell with a lot of effort. 

He was a little less jealous when he noticed Spock kept throwing glances at his shadow palette too. 

“I think this color would look good on you,” he remarked off-hand one morning as he put on his preferred shade of blue, pointing to a different color than what he was using with his brush. Spock raised an eyebrow at him in the mirror. 

“Indeed?”

“Yeah. You should try it, tomorrow.”

“Perhaps I will.”

He was a even less jealous when Spock bought a new pot of his fancy moisturizer and left it unopened on Leonard’s side of the sink.

Leonard didn’t notice the stares he kept getting all day as much, mostly because he hadn’t slept well the night previous and had accidentally used Spock’s shampoo, and didn’t know whether to be pissed off or jealous that his hair was now incredibly soft and smelled delicious. He pulled his sleeves up again as they slipped down, musing that at least the red alert last night had only been a false alarm and no one had been injured. 

All these thoughts quailed in comparison to Spock walking into Sickbay in a uniform shirt that was clearly Leonard’s. He looked under the weather, eyes weary, and Leonard knew this week had been bad for the Vulcan, his meditation routinely interrupted. They were passing through a politically unstable sector, and it meant a great deal of emergencies seemed to be finding them. Leonard would be glad when they were out of the damn place. 

The exhaustion on Spock’s face was the only reason Leonard didn’t start laughing hysterically when he realized the uniform, which was only slightly short in the arms and loose in the chest, bore a medical insignia instead of a science one. “Go to sleep, Spock, that’s an order,” he said with a shake of his head, cutting off whatever he was about to say. It was a testament to how bad Spock was truly feeling that he simply closed his mouth and turned on his heel, nodding as he went to do just that. 

They were both less amused when they realized no one had told them they were wearing each other’s shirts all day.

“Doctor, those candles are meant to assist in my meditation!” Spock sounded the most pissed Leonard had ever heard him, and the pounding on the door was getting louder and louder. He was surprised the Vulcan hadn’t simply tried to break in yet. “I demand you give them back! Leonard!” 

He pretended he couldn’t hear Spock, smirking to himself as he finally got started reading that medical journal he’d been wanting to skim, the candles making the bathroom smell vaguely of sweet spices and lighting it lowly. It was romantic and relaxing, and the only thing that made it better was that it was thoroughly pissing off Spock. 

He would admit he hadn’t expected Spock to override the lock and storm into the bathroom while he was naked in the bath, but he guessed he had been found in more compromising positions, and forced himself not to blush. “Mr Spock,” he managed fairly evenly, and even in the low light he could see the emotion burning in the Vulcan’s eyes. 

“Leonard, you have taken every single one of my meditation candles. What is the purpose of this?” Leonard opened his mouth to answer, but Spock plowed onwards, towering over him in the bath and making him feel incredibly small. “Is this the equivalent to some childish ‘pigtail pulling’ as Nyota has told me?” His breath left him in a rush. 

“Oh,” he said, and Spock blinked in surprise, breath also leaving him. They were close enough that Leonard could smell that shampoo that he liked so much over the overwhelming scent of his bubble bath, and his throat felt dry. “Yes, I suppose so,” he answered after a moment. 

He hadn’t thought Spock knew how to kiss, but he supposed he had interrupted his meditation, so he probably deserved some out of character kissing.

[lenle-g]

give me a cute short fic of jeff and alan together!!!!!!!!!!!!!! like some father son bonding moment and I know jeff boy hasn't appeared yet but I need the content

Ask Meme: I wish you would write a fic where…

Well, this… this is 90% not cute (with a cute ending tho I promise) but here on the Len blog it’s feels or death lads, feels or death. Also this is supposing the Space BoysTM and Scott goon the Rescue mission, and leave Gordon and Virgil to keep up with rescues onEarth.

His voice is morebooming than Alan remembers it. When he laughs he laughs with his whole body,shoulders shaking, knee slapping. He wonders if the grey of his eyes were alwaysthat shade? Were his lungs always so expansive? His tone so rich with love?

“Oh my god.Boys. Boys I can’t believe it, I…” Jeff’s got Scott’s arms around his shouldersand John, who honestly might actually be, oh god is that, laughing?, captured in a mean headlock. “You kids haven’t changed at all. Have you all beenok? Eating alright?” There’s a tussle between the three of them as Jeff goes toscrub his fist against ginger locks and John, with all the composure of a boyquarter of his age and an minute fraction of his usual sensibility actually squeals.

“Ha! Johnny! Who went and swapped your legs out for string noodles! Huh? Geez kid!” John struggles to freehimself absolutely ineffectually against his Father’s thick arms as he getscompletely ignored as Jeff turns to scrutinise Scott.

“Right then Scotty, how’re the Thunderbirds? Wereyou able to keep up operations? Lord Creighton Ward promised to be at yourservice if anything ever should happen but I can’t say I anticipated this.”Laughing he gestures at the dark, empty expanse of space above them. At thesharp silhouette the Zero-X2 makes parked alongside the wreck of the old one. “Boys,I can’t believe you’ve…”

It’s then he looks up at Alan,standing a little apart from them. The youngest Tracy is eyeing them almost nervously. His stare frozen inwide and disbelieving. There’s a pause of quiet between them as Jeff simply regardsthe young man and the young man regards him.

Jeff frowns.

“Alan?” He callsout, loosening his grip on John enough for his spaceson to wiggle free, hairrumpled and expression unsettlingly pleased about it.

Alan doesn’t move.There’s a beat of time. Scott frowns sharply at him, making gestures to comeover here right now from behind Jeff’s back.

There’s another pause.

“Hey, Allie?” Jefftries again, puzzled. “Is that you over there Sprout?” As if Lucy’s blues could possiblybelong to anyone but one of his sons. “Com’ere kiddo.”

Alan has only blurryhalf memories of the man stood before him with his arms open and there’sa tight, twisting sensation somewhere inside him that feels an awful lotlike the vessels of his heart tying themselves in knots.

“Dad?” There’s nothing Alan can do aboutthe way his voice breaks on the vowel. Nothing he can do about the way hishands are trembling.

His last fuzzy half memories of this man are of beingcarried up the stairs cradled close to a broad, warm chest. Of his Father’sheartbeat, strong and solid under his tiny hand. Of fingers in ducking-downblond hair and the press of a kiss to his forehead. Of a ‘goodnight, sleep tight, see you in the morning light’ that neverhappened.

“Oh Alan.” Jeff’s arms drop. His voice is very soft and is familiar inthe way only a faded photograph can be. His voice had become just a memory,something that Alan realises he thought he’d never hear again.It’s another one of his Dad’s ghosts.

Because that’s nothing new. Whenhis Father had disappeared Alan kept seeing his ghost everywhere. Not in any literal sense, but instead in the thingshe’d left behind. In the empty desk in the hall, the chair where only he wouldsit, in the bits and pieces of their Father’s life that Grandma, gradually overthe years, began to pack away. Alan remembers how the sight of John wearing oneof Dad’s old pullovers would twist something sharply in his chest. How so manylittle things that before would have brought to mind happiness and safety andthe warmth of his Father’s arms instead triggered a sharp, deeply burrowedanguish in him. He’s tried to put on a brave front, to hide his reactions fromhis brothers, never quite sure if they feel what he’s feeling too. They must, afterall, losing someone you love can’t be done lightly. But he’s never been braveenough to ask.

Loss is isolating like that.

John, his closest brother, had thrown himself intowork. Into stats and schematics and rescues. He became as much part ofThunderbird Five as Five was of him and the part of Alan that aches for hisFather aches for the old John too.The John before he’d had to pair up with Gordon and use pranks to get his attention. The one who spent time with himplaying games and joined in with his hobbies, the one before everything becameabout training. About preparing their youngest brother to face the perils ofspace and save lives. About making sure that if they sent him up into the blackhe’d come back again.

Everything was so, so different now, and he hasthis selfish, awful fear that’s been building the whole trip that theirFather’s sudden return into their lives will throw everything off all overagain. Alan doubts things will go back to the way they were before: after all,they’re all different and older and wiser now. Scott’s the only Field CommanderAlan’s ever known and they youngest Tracy doesn’t know if he’s ok with changingthat - let alone if Scott himself could ever step aside again. And yes, he doeswant John home more often, he wants to have his brother physically around and maybe Dad can make that happen but he doesn’twant John to lose something so importantto him. Their Father had just seemed so critical of John’s appearance and…What if Dad tries to force John down from orbit?  Alan knows his brother is up there, not justbecause he adores it, but because it’s more importantfor him to be up there saving lives than down on Earth playing video games withhim.

Alan feels, frankly, kind of ill.

He can pinpoint in his head the exact moment that Johnbecame so distant from him and it involved an explosion over the South Pacificand The Hood’s dark laughter breaking up the recording. He’d been asleep whenit actually happened. But he’d seen the tapes.

They’d all seen the tapes.

And Alan would have given anything to see hisFather again instead.

And now here he is. And Alan Tracy doesn’t have a clue what he should do.

He becomes viscerally aware of the fact he’sshaking.

“Allie? Son? What’s wrong?” Jeff separates himselffrom Scott and John, both of whom are regarding their younger brother with a quiet understanding.Their Father crouches down next to his baby boy, aiming to level their heightsbut finding, surprised, that it puts him lower than Alan’s eye line. “I’m here now, yeah? I’mnot sure I agree with their decision to bring you out here when it could havebeen so dangerous, but your brothers did a great job piloting the new Zero-Xand…”

“I piloted it.” It’s the first time since theinitial shock that Alan’s properly found his voice and it comes out squeaky.  “I… I flew the Zero-X2, D-Dad.”

A hand falls on Jeff’s shoulder, gently pulling himslightly out of Alan’s personal space. Alan relaxes only minutely.

“You’re looking at the most talented young pilotthe world has ever seen.” John tells their Father, with perfect sincerity.“Alan is a fully fledged member of International Rescue and has been runningmissions for three years now. We trained him ourselves. I don’t have enoughflight experience and Scott doesn’t have enough spacetime racked up for this.” John’shand settles on his little brother’s shoulder and Alan feels a rush of gratitudetoward him that takes his breath away. “He was the right man for the mission.”

Jeff looks from John to Alan and back, disbeliefclear on his face. He takes a moment to just stare openly at Alan, taking inthose wide, familiar baby blues and the soft blond curl of his hair. This youngman is so different to the child he left behind and Jeff is hit with the suddenrealisation that he’s missed a lot ofhis youngest boy’s growing up. There’s a firmness to Alan’s jawline now. He’s lostmuch of the baby fat from his cheeks and he’s taller, so much taller. If heshoots up much more he’ll not only surpass Gordon but maybe even Virgil.

“I…. kid.”There’s an awkward fumble where Jeff seems lost for words but then wide, warmarms pull Alan from John’s side and wrap tight around the kid’s shoulders,pulling him in to that broad, familiar chest. “I’m so proud of you.” Jeff chokes on the syllables and something in Alanbreaks down.

There’s a deep gasping sob from the littlest Tracy.

“I thought you were gone.” The teens fingers curl tight in the thick material of hisFather’s old International Rescue blues. “I woke up in the morning and theytold me you were g-g…” There’s a uncomfortable hitch in Alan’s chest and hebreaks down into monosyllables and broken sobs.

“Hey hey,” Jeff’s fingers smooth reassuringlythrough his baby boy’s hair, “its ok Allie. It’s all ok now. I’m here. You didit kid, you absolutely did it. I’m here.”

And actually, Alan thinks, as he buries his face inhis Dad’s shoulder and clings to him like he never wants to let go again, that’sall that’s really important.

Everything else will work itself out.

Dad is here.

[dragon-temeraire]

Learning Curve

Summary: Stiles likes being Cora’s roommate, but he’s pretty sure her brother is hitting on him.

Notes: Inspired by this post. I’m not really into the sugar daddy thing, so I went a different direction with this. (On AO3)

Stiles is sitting at a picnic table in the shade, trying to get some studying done, when he hears someone calling his name. He looks up just in time to see Scott grin and say, “Hey, man!” as he sits down across from him.

Stiles smiles and shuts his book, eager for the chance to take a break.

“So, how’s it going?” Scott asks, leaning his arms on the table like he’s ready to settle in. “I know you were sad about having to move in with someone new, after I started living with Allison. So what’s it like, being roommates with Cora?”

“You’re so nosy,” Stiles grumbles good-naturedly. “I could be asking you how you’re liking living with your girlfriend, but I’m not.”

Scott laughs. “Come on, we’ve both been really busy with school, we haven’t talked in forever. Catch me up on your life, man.”

“Cora’s cool,” Stiles says after a moment, because he does want to talk to someone. “She’s a pretty chill roommate, I like her a lot.” He pauses, considering what he wants to say next.

“But?” Scott prompts, clearly reading his silence.

“But, uh, I think her brother is hitting on me.”

Scott’s eyebrows go up. “Do you mean Derek? Is Derek hitting on you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles says, feeling a little awkward. “He’s, like…helping out with the rent. I mean, he’s totally paying for Cora to go to school, but still.”

“So you’re not having to pay rent right now? Like, at all?” Scott says curiously. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbles. “But he also hangs out a lot. Like, sometimes Cora isn’t even there, but he’ll just chill and watch movies or play videogames or whatever.” He sighs. Scott’s gonna tease him, but he might as well put it out there. “And then there was the bookstore thing.”

Scott leans forward, looking intrigued. “What happened at the bookstore?”

“Well, Derek showed up at the apartment, told Cora he’d go with her to buy her books for the semester. Then he asked me if I wanted to go, too. And, I mean, I hadn’t gotten my textbooks yet, so.”

“So you went with them?” Scott asks encouragingly.

“Yeah. And after he paid for all of Cora’s books, he tried to buy all of mine, too. But no way could I let him buy all of them for me, you know? I stood my ground!”

“You bought the lab manuals, and let him pay for the textbooks, didn’t you?” Scott says, smirking.

“Maybe,” Stiles concedes. “But after I wouldn’t let him buy all my stuff for me, he then offered to take me out to dinner. To make up for it!” he adds in a rush.

“And you said yes,” Scott says, with absolute certainty.

“Dude, have you ever known me to turn down free food?”

“Of course not,” Scott sighs. “Was Cora at this dinner?”

“Er, no,” Stiles says. “She said she had to meet up with her study group at the library. So it was just me and him.”

Scott’s quiet for a moment, looking like he’s thinking everything over. “So, is he hot?”

Stiles chokes on nothing. “What? Um, I guess,” he sputters. “You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“Only a couple of times. He seemed cool, maybe a bit of a loner. Wait a minute,” he says seriously. “Is his hanging around creepy? Is he making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Stiles says hurriedly. “No way. He’s actually really nice, just seems to want to talk and hang out. He’s a lawyer, and I think he gets pretty stressed at work sometimes, so it’s good for him to just chill with me—”

“Oh my god, you have a crush on him,” Scott blurts, eyes wide.

“I—what? No,” Stiles denies, but even he can hear how unconvincing he sounds.

Scott just grins. “It’s no big deal if you do. I mean, you are bi, aren’t you?”

“Theoretically,” Stiles mumbles, because he’s never even kissed a guy before. But he knows it’s no use.

“Dude, you could be dating a lawyer,” Scott says brightly. “He’s obviously into you. I think you should talk to him. Maybe ask him out,” he adds encouragingly.

“But—fuck,” Stiles says. Derek—beautiful, smart, has-his-life-together Derek—is interested in him? It had been so far out of the realm of possibility, Stiles had just refused to see the signs. And he’d tried not to notice how attractive Derek was, and how kind-hearted he seemed, and how he was so sweet to Cora. But now…

“Though you should also talk about him trying to buy your affection, or whatever,” Scott says. “And if you don’t, I’m gonna call Cora,” he adds sternly.

Stiles is still kind of reeling, so it takes him a moment to respond. “What? Oh, that will not be necessary, Scotty,” he says quickly. “I’m gonna get things sorted out.”

“You better,” Scott says, still looking cheerful. “I want you to get a boyfriend, not get taken advantage of.” He pulls out his phone, makes a show of thumbing through the contacts. “Let me make sure I have Cora’s number in here, real quick.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Stiles says, grabbing his stuff and standing up.

“I want to know what happens,” Scott calls as he walks away. “Keep me posted!”

 *

 Derek isn’t at the apartment when he gets back, so Stiles tries to finish up his homework. But he can’t concentrate, he’s just too anxious and fidgety and, well, hopeful.

So he sits on the couch with the tv on low, and tries to think of what he wants to say. Cora’s not home either, so tries a few things out loud, hoping to calm his nerves. It doesn’t really work, but he figures it was worth a shot.

Derek shows up a little while later. “Hey, Stiles,” he says as he heads for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles says weakly. “Um, can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course,” Derek says, looking worried. He tugs his tie loose, and sits next to Stiles on the couch. “What’s up?”

“Uh,” Stiles says, momentarily caught on the exposed hollow of Derek’s throat. “I’m not really sure what your intentions are, but it kinda seems like you…want to be my sugar daddy? And I’m flattered, but—”

“I—no,” Derek says, cheeks pink, looking like he’s at a loss for words. “That’s not—” he tries again.

Stiles finds himself smiling, because this flustered Derek is pretty adorable. “So…you haven’t been trying to buy my affection these last few weeks?”

“No,” Derek groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Oh, god.”

Stiles studies the hunched line of Derek’s shoulders for a moment, then says, “Well, what were you trying to do?”

“I’m not—I’m not good at flirting,” he says, dropping his hands away. He looks really embarrassed. “I never know what to do to get people to like me. So I just…try to be nice to them.” He sighs, slumping back on the couch. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Hold on—you paying my rent and buying my textbooks was just your awkward flirting?”

“Um, yeah,” Derek says, cheeks still red.

“I—but I’m just a dorky college student. Why would you be interested in me?” Stiles asks, because he still can’t quite believe it.

Derek blinks at him in surprise. “Are you kidding me?” he says. “When Cora told me she was getting a new roommate, I came by so I could see what you were like.” He shakes his head. “She got me, too. She knew you were exactly my type.”

“You think Cora took me as a roommate just to set you up?” Stiles asks, laughing.

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Derek grumbles. “I haven’t been on a date in a while. And every time I would ask her about you, she would just look smug.”

Stiles is kind of feeling smug himself. He’s Derek’s type?

Derek always seemed so confident and self-assured, Stiles would have never guessed he had a shy, awkward side. It’s pretty great.

“You know, the reason I didn’t pick up on your, uh, flirting was because you were way out of my league. I figured it would never happen.” He shrugs. “So can we maybe try this again?”

“Yes,” Derek says, looking hopeful.

Stiles clears his throat. “Derek, I think you’re hot and amazing. Do you want to go on a date with me?” He’s pretty sure he knows what the answer’s going to be, but it still makes his stomach flutter a little.

“I’d like that a lot,” Derek says, smiling.

“Good,” Stiles says cheerfully, moving close enough that their thighs are pressed together. “Now, part two: can I kiss you?”

“I’d like that, too,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles kisses him until he’s breathless.

 *

 They alternate paying for dates, and Derek stops covering Stiles’ rent.

He does buy their wedding rings, though.

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 81 - OTT - State of the Fanbase

Fan Appreciation Night takes on an angry, comedic tone lately doesn’t it? The Buffalo Sabres Marketing Department reaches out with a trivial and unexciting toy in an attempt at saying “thank you for giving us money”; and the fanbase collective bats it out of their outstretch arms in anger. I don’t know if there was a time we weren’t so cynical and angry at Fan Appreciation Night but mind you, the first full season I paid attention to was 2011-2012 so… yeah… it always sucks. This is the second to last game and it’s the very last home game. Since it’s Fan Appreciation Night and I fancy this blog a “Fan Reaction Blog” over descriptors like “smart” and “thoughtful”, I thought this would be the best game to really dive into the state of Sabres fandom. I am also going to shoot a little higher than “it’s shit.” I understand that it is pretty shitty right now but let’s all take a step back and remember we love this team like a pet. If God forbid your pet died then you would eventually get over it, but you’d be pretty broken up about it for a while I imagine. When your pet is sick you don’t say “Fuck this animal for making me feel sad!” No, you try and figure out what’s wrong with it, bring it to the vet and what not. The obvious difference here is that pets don’t make millions of dollars off of your affection for them… well most don’t. The other big difference is you don’t trade out parts of your dog to make it better. Okay, that metaphor has gone too far. I think you get the point. On Fan Appreciation Night we take on the Ottawa Senators. Their fanbase is a good comparison for our State of the Fanbase but we’ll get back to that later. The Ottawa Senators are the only team left in the National Hockey League that are so shitty that no matter how shitty the Sabres finish they will not be able to reach the depth of Sens shittiness. The Sens had 64 points in the standings going into this game while the Sabres had 72. Ottawa also started their rookie goaltender, Joey Daccord. This was a winnable game and for the first time in what feels like forever it was just that: a win.

When Anthony Duclair scored a shade over two minutes in it felt like what we have come to expect from the Sabres recently: a rout, even against some of the worst teams in the NHL. Ottawa had just demolished the Sabres 4-0 last week! Luckily that was not the story tonight. Jake McCabe drew a hooking penalty and the best Sabres 7th round pick… ever(?) Victor Olofsson smacked in a rocket from the circle 8:40 into the first period. Unfortunately, Sabres got to Sabre and Jean-Gabriel Pageau scored a response goal for the Sens a mere 30 seconds later. The score was 2-1 in favor of the visitors going into the second but now was the time for the Sabres to take over. This time Conor Sheary drew a hooking penalty and Kyle Okposo tapped in a rebound on the ensuing powerplay to even up the score a little over six minutes into the middle period. The home team was now out-shooting the opposition and the go-ahead goal came for Buffalo within three minutes. Shortly after blowing a point blank shot himself Sam Reinhart received the toughest pass possible from good buddy Jack Eichel and snuck it past the rookie netminder. Reinhart looked like all the troubles of this season melted away in giddy celebration. I’m sure he congratulated Eichel on his team-voted MVP award and one of his all-time best assists. There would be some more bullshit and penalties through the rest of the second, but this is game 81 and haven’t we discussed all the crap enough? The Sabres ran away with the game in the third. Jack Eichel got a goal of his own and it was beautiful. As if a tribute to the fun and growth we’ve seen out of the Captain this season, he got the puck from an Olofsson rebound and just outmaneuvered the Sens goalie. It was like he was going for a walk, the long way, around the crease. It was like a reverse wrap-around if that makes any sense. Eichel’s 28th of the season made it 4-2 Sabres but the Fan Appreciation festivities were not done yet. There are some goals that stand above the rest: sometimes its for how they were scored or when they were scored. Sometimes goals are special because of who scored them. Jason Pominville, Buffalo’s favorite adopted son, benefited from a poor clearance of the puck by the Sens goalie and shot it home from the boards. 5-2 Sabres and an applause for the season highlight reel. A standing ovation through another play and a commercial break from the population of Pominville for what maybe the very last time in Buffalo. The place was ripe for feels, even through the TV, and for the remainder of the game the cynicism and anger melted away off all of us. The last Sabres home game of 2018-2019 ended 5-2 for the home team.

As fun as this game was it was followed in short order by what we were expecting no matter how the game itself turned out. The Carolina Hurricanes clinched a playoff spot with their win over New Jersey. Their ten-year playoff drought is over. That means your Buffalo Sabres are now in sole possession of the longest active postseason drought in the NHL at 8 Seasons. That stat alone is worth a rant. There are lots of ways to go with such a rant on the occasion of fan appreciation night from right at the players like the idiots who ran O’Reilly out of town and now lock onto MVP Eichel, to the coaching, to the General Manager, hell some go right on up to Terry and Kim Pegula. Rant away my friends, Jeremy White let a legendary rant rip live on the air on WGR550 last week. It’s ok. It doesn’t make you a bad fan and frankly: it’s healthy. @MattyRenn on twitter wrote an open letter aimed right at the Pegulas on Tuesday and I think that about sums up that whole vein of rants pretty well. That’s worth a read if you got some frustrations to vent over at deargodwhyussports.com. Look, I’ll be writing an extensive season retrospective bonanza after this season is over and certainly there will be some reflection after Saturday’s game in Detroit but there was a quiet lesson for all of us tonight on frustration. The fan of the year wasn’t just some dude again this season: it was a 95-year-old woman named Anna Marie Szczepanski. I think that’s a very appropriate choice given the season that the Sabres are going to finish on Saturday. Anna was born in 1924. She was 46 when the Sabres came about in this chilly industrial city on the Great Lakes. She was 49 when the Sabres reached their first Stanley Cup Final. She turned 60 in the awful 1980s of Sabres history. She was 73 when Brad May scored his incredible Mayday goal to eliminate the hated rival Boston Bruins in the 1993 Playoffs. She was 75 when Buffalo made their second Stanley Cup Final in 1999 and got robbed by a team from fucking Dallas! She turned 90 during the tank years and 91 when we drafted Jack Eichel. Guess what she still is today: the Buffalo Sabres fan of the year! Apart from simply having the longevity to live to 95, Anna represents the loyalty of Sabres fans.

Yes, we don’t want to be jobbed by incompetent management, but she lived through the Scotty Bowman stint in Buffalo when a Hall of Fame Coach and Manager couldn’t even get a Cup for the Sabres! Shit sucks right now as a Sabres fan and we can debate where we are right now in the grand scheme of franchise history until the Bills win a Superbowl; but I don’t care to debate that point because through thick and thin this is our team and no degree of shittiness can stop us from the love of the Blue and Gold. The State of the Fans of the Buffalo Sabres is rough right now, probably the roughest its been in my lifetime, but there is too much promise in this core and too much skill coming down the pipeline to hibernate your Sabres support. I know Ottawa Senators fans who are more strident than ever in their support. In case you’ve missed it: just about every imaginable thing that go wrong with an NHL team short of losing the franchise has happened in Ottawa. Their owner is still carrying out toxic policies and restricting his front office to the point of uselessness. If there are fans of that franchise losing their shit day in and day out when everything possible is going wrong then I think we can manage another season out of the playoff picture. There is a lot of work to be done but we’re better than running out on these guys now. Don’t worry, I don’t think any of us ever were going to.

I tweeted at Matt Bove how can us Sabres fans go on? The snapback of other Sabres fans proclaiming loyalty made me smile. We rant our heads off, but this is home and we know it. I tweeted that expecting that kind of response. As long as we can all agree those suburban hockey dads hating on Eichel and Dahlin can eat it I think we’ll all be here again in October. That said, timing in this crazy world of hockey can surprise you sometimes. Old buried friend Matt Moulson did an interview recently talking about how the Murray-Blysma regime ruined him with no explanation. Whatever you think of Matt Moulson aside, at least we can look back on the 2017 regime change with some relief. Speaking of timing, late last week those comments Rob Ray made a decade ago about Phil Housley resurfaced; you know, the ones about Housley being a selfish jackass? I think its clear Housley has got to go but we don’t need to kick him while he’s down too. Like, comment and share this blog. I’m going to Detroit for the last game on Saturday, but no matter what I do I won’t be able to top the sign some fans hung in the 300 level at tonight’s game that read Fire Housley. That kind of plain and simple messaging is what you really dream of for a good banner/poster at a hockey game. That’s it for the Fan Appreciation Night blog: one more game left and I might just enjoy this one better than all the rest in spite of everything. Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Carter Hutton getting the Unsung Hero 2019 Player Award is some kind of irony. Both goalies fell off a cliff in January but evidently Hutton is really the locker room magic he was advertised as. My brother wants a Hutton Shirsey.