#with Scotty occasionally getting some focus

[youngpettyqueen]

dont mistake me I really loved s3 of Enterprise, and so far im enjoying s4, but the character writing has taken such a hard hit

what I mean by that is that if you aren't Archer, T'Pol, or Trip, youre basically fucked. pretty much all the focus shifted to those three, with very few exceptions. Phlox occasionally gets some focus, and Malcolm might get a few crumbs, but Travis? Hoshi? they barely exist. theyre supposed to be main characters, and at this point it feels like theyre not even side characters. Shran has gotten more attention in s4 than Travis and Hoshi have gotten

im so close to the end of the series that I know it won't change, which is disappointing. I feel that other Treks have done a much better job keeping things feeling somewhat balanced, with bigger casts. im still enjoying myself with this series, and im hoping I continue to enjoy myself, but this is a big gripe I have with s3 and s4 specifically

[electronickingdomfox]

"The Trellisane Confrontation" review

Novel by David Dvorkin from 1984. Finally a cover that looks a bit different! By the way, that's Chapel there, and not some random lady that never shows up, as I thought at first.

Is this high literature? Surely not. The prose is pretty simplistic and straight to the point. Is it very original? Also nope. The plot is a mishmash of everything TOS, put together: there are two alien races at war, and on top of that the Enterprise is hijacked and taken from Kirk, and on top of that there are Klingons, and on top of that, Romulans. Also McCoy struggles to free slaves, and dines with cannibals. And then Chapel finds (briefly) love, when she enters into communion with a composite being that looks like a ball of flesh (okay, THAT'S new, and not really as disturbing as it seems at first; though there are some disturbing things in this novel). Having said all that, did I enjoy this book? Hell, yeah! (see everything above).

With so many things going on, the plot can be a bit confusing, as it keeps branching out when characters go their separate ways. Though somehow, everything clicks. There's also an underlying theme of IDIC to help bring things together. The resolution of the main conflict, however, is less than satisfactory. Let's be frank; the political situation in the planet Trellisane when the Enterprise leaves is... well, shit. There's no way that's not gonna end in another war. But Kirk seems satisfied so...

As for characterization, I found it spot-on, which is not frequent in these novels (usually there's something that seems "off"). The focus is more on action than character development, but you get those glimpses of personality. Spock is sassy, and sometimes Kirk discovers those cracks in his Vulcan mask, and wonders if his occasional humor isn't really another way to hide his true emotions. Kirk has his boyish, fun-loving side in addition to his responsible side as starship captain. Scotty is a badass, and not just a miracle worker. And McCoy is particularly developed, with his softness under a crusty exterior, and his disregard for cruel authority figures. Still, I've found reviews of this novel criticizing it for being out-of-character, which I truly can't understand. If anything, the easy way in which the Enterprise is hijacked is a bit unbelievable. And Sulu makes a really, really stupid mistake while having the con, that triggers the whole problem. But hey, Sulu isn't yet a Captain, and even then, he's just a fallible human! I don't see how having a crew that's always impeccably perfect is any more realistic...

Spoilers under the cut (it's a short novel, but a long plot):

Kirk's mission this time around consists in taking a bunch of dangerous criminals and bringing them to a more secure prison. The criminals are fanatics that believe the Federation should conquer as much territory as possible, so they were trying to enter the Romulan Neutral Zone to trigger a war. They consist of the leader, Hander Morl, his four bodyguards, and a curious creature: an Onctiliian. This race has four sexes, and when they mate, all four individuals are permanently merged in a ball of flesh (body horror much), and can't exist separately anymore. In this state, Onctiliians are very dangerous and aggresive.

However, Kirk receives a fading distress call from Trellisane, vaguely mentioning Klingons. So he decides to investigate this planet before putting the criminals in prison (aka "wrong decision"). Kirk, Spock and McCoy meet the Trellisane leader, who explains they're under attack from the neighboring planet, Sealon (populated by some aquatic, seal-like beings). They suspect the Klingons are behind the sudden weapon development of Sealon. At first, the Trellisanian come off as the peaceful, advanced, but somewhat naive race. While the Sealons are described as barbaric. But things aren't quite so simple.

Meanwhile, the Enterprise is attacked by Sealon ships. Sulu underestimates them, and the ship gets a direct hit, which affects the security cells. The prisoners escape, and after killing some redshirts, they manage to reach the bridge, seal up the doors, and hold everyone there at gunpoint. But the Onctiliian has been seriously injured and goes a different way. The rest of the crew only know the prisoners have escaped, and are unaware of the situation in the bridge. Morl leaves the red alarm flaring, so everyone is busy elsewhere, and forces the bridge crew to depart to the Neutral Zone, to trigger his war. And Kirk watches his ship warping away under his nose.

Down in the planet, the trio find out the Trellisane government is completely ineffectual, so they try to take matters into their hands (violation of the Prime Directive, of course, but it's not like they can do much else this time). McCoy starts tending to the wounded, and discovers strange brain implants in some of them, which he removes. Soon, it becomes apparent that Trellisane has a slave class, which is treated like animals and denied all rights, so McCoy has to cure them in secret. For their part, Kirk and Spock rally the slaves (the only willing to fight), and help them plant explosives under the ocean, where the Sealons are already building bases.

In the Enterprise, Scotty uses his brains and notices something is wrong. He gets to the bridge and is captured as well. But he improvises an excuse about the warp engines being very damaged, and convinces Morl to stop the ship for maintenance, thus gaining some time. Chapel has found the injured Onctiliian, now dying, since one of its four members was killed. She overcomes her fear, and tries to remove the corpse, so the rest of the body can heal. But upon coming in contact with the link spot, the Onctiliian accepts her as a new fourth member, and a mind link is established between them. With the new input from Chapel, more peaceful and intelligent, the creature understands how wrong are Morl's ways.

Again back in the planet, Kirk and Spock are captured by Sealons in one of their bombing incursions, and brought to their underwater base. Effectively, the base is run by Klingons, the real masterminds behind the war. Then, the Klingons bring them to their main base in Sealon. Kirk explains the situation with the Enterprise, and convinces the Klingon leader that, if the Romulans are provoked, they'll also interfere with Klingon affairs in this sector. The Klingon captain agrees to take Kirk to his ship, so he can regain it and avert the conflict. But then Kirk must surrender the Enterprise to the Klingons (ha! gullible Klingon much!). Meanwhile, Spock escapes his imprisonment, after Sealon rebels start attacking Klingon infrastructures. He comes face to face with the Sealon leader, and of course can't resist the temptation of mind-melding with him. This gives Spock a new viewpoint about the Sealons.

As for McCoy, he's at his wit's end with the Trellisanian and their classism. To make things worse, he discovers the brain implants are used to control slaves, and even kill them on the spot when they misbehave. And then comes... the revelation (actually, you can see it coming since earlier in the novel, but still...). The Trellisanian leader says McCoy is an hypocrite, for defending the slaves and still eating meat. He brings the doctor to a butcher house, and there McCoy discovers the meat actually came from slaves. It's a shame that McCoy's coping with this fact isn't explored further (Tarsus IV anyone?).

In the end, the Enterprise bridge is regained when Chapel bursts in, with her Onctiliian bondmate wreaking havoc on all the bad guys. The creature dies in the fight, however, freeing Chapel from the bond (and she's pretty sad about it). Morl has a villanous breakdown, and at last surrenders, when Kirk beams in the bridge. The Romulans have been attracted by the suspicious presence of the Enterprise near their border. But Kirk invites both the Romulan and the Klingon captains to his ship, to reach a cooperation agreement in regards to Trellisane and Sealon (okay, this was waaaay too easy). Down in the planet, Spock has reunited with McCoy, and together they organize a meeting between Trellisane and Sealon leaders, to reach another agreement. First, the slaves must be set free, if Trellisane ever wants to receive help from the Federation. And the Sealons are allowed to keep the conquered oceans, if they share the fishing. I think it's a rather shitty arrangement that leaves nobody happy (not even the slaves, since the grudge is still there). But anyway, both the Trellisanians and the Sealons are rather shitty in their own ways, so there.

Spirk Meter: 1/10*. Very little. But Spock reflects a moment about how much he admires his Captain, for having such a perfect balance between logic and emotion (but it's not hero-worship, nope...). However, his ideal image is suddenly broken, when he sees Kirk excited like a little boy, at the prospect of rowing in a boat.

Is it my impression, or do male authors gravitate much more towards McKirk and Spones, while books written by women are more spirky? In the first page, we already have Kirk looking up and down at Bones in his dress uniform, and telling him that his old country doctor persona is all he needs to impress the colonists. And then, Kirk brings McCoy to his cabin, closes the door, and undresses in front of him (okay, he needs to change into his dress uniform too, but still...).

Then, at the end, McCoy is discussing with Spock about cross-breeding between different species, when he changes the subject, to comment on Spock's warm, human emotion upon reuniting with him. McCoy wants Spock to admit he was worried about him, but yet again, Spock is cold and hurts him. McCoy goes away, angry, and Chapel reprimands Spock for being so cruel, since the doctor is sensitive. Spock agrees. And adds he's a remarkable doctor, and probably derives pleasure from insulting and being insulted by Spock, as it's his only way of showing his affection. All this in the context of IDIC, and Chapel's recent experience as a mate of the Onctiliian. Hmmm...

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[allzelemonz]

Star Trek Masterlist

Main Masterlist

James Kirk

More Fun Than Expected

Pronouns: He/Him, Reader is referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Mirrorverse runs on sex and blood, Mirror Kirk is mean, switch Reader, sub Reader, dom Mirror Kirk, references to Reader giving oral but it doesn’t happen, hand job, sex as a threat, sex a discipline, mentions of execution and torture, use of the pet name “good boy,” mentions of prior sex partner and Reader, mentions of Reader’s time at the academy, inexperienced Reader, dirty talk, handjob, mentions of grinding, sex Summary: As a Commander aboard the ISS Enterprise you get the occasional privilege of sitting in the Captain’s chair. When the Captain comes to relieve the Beta shift he keeps you behind for some fun, but things don’t go quite how he planned.

Pavel Chekov

Flowers

Pronouns: None mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Non-established relationship, but they’re in love, hinted Kirk/Spock and Chapel/Uhura, sex pollen enhances arousal and attraction but no fuck or die, allusions to bad wig Chekov, focus on how cute the Russian is, top reader, bottom Chekov, mentions of Chekov’s love for Russia Summary: The away team gets separated and the Captain orders for exploration in the meantime. Chekov and yourself wander across some strange plants that cause some interesting side effects.

Leonard McCoy

Cold

Pronouns: None mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Non-established relationship, but they’re in love, stranded together, stuck in a cave, McCoy calls the reader “kid,” but he calls lots of people that, riding, hand-job, standard McCoy snark, long set up Summary: When Spock’s away team get stranded a second team is sent to locate them when the ship’s sensors fail. As a part of the rescue team, yourself and Doctor McCoy happen across a cave that needs investigating. A spontaneous collapse of the entrance leaves you both stuck in a freezing cave with limited sources of heat. You have to find a way to stay warm.

Those Blue Eyes: Leonard McCoy X Male Reader

Prompt: Tropesgiving Day 3: Evil Twins Pronouns: He/Him, use of boyfriend, reader called ‘boy’ and ‘man’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Moderate Themes Warnings: Canon typical violence, flirty mirror counterparts, mentions of surgery and death Summary: A mirrored version of Doctor McCoy is on the Enterprise and you have him at phaser point, but things are much more complicated than they seem.

Malcolm Reed

Navyman: Malcolm Reed X Male Reader

Prompt: 12 Days of AU, Modern Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boyfriend’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: G Warnings: Malcolm’s family is clueless, aquaphobia, mentions of scary/life threatening conditions at sea Summary: In modern times, Malcolm Reed didn’t have any Starfleet to join and is pressured into the Navy despite his fear. His family is proud, but knows nothing about his phobia so you have to help him through it during a storytelling session.

Montgomery Scott

Traditions: Montgomery Scott X Gender Neutral Reader

Prompt: 12 Days of AU, Holiday Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Alcohol Warnings: Multiple holiday celebration, Scotty’s tree has to be perfect, mentions of scotch, holidays/faiths mentioned specifically: Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, and Christmas, author celebrates Yule and did research for other holidays Summary: When the holiday season rolls around the Enterprise has an annual party, limited to one night due to the dangers of space. Scotty and the Operations division are in charge of decorations for all of the holidays and it’s time to set up.

Spock

Calculations Were Off

Pronouns: None mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Pon Farr, Spock having an animalistic drive, multiple orgasms, () used for custom name and rank, verbal consent is sexy, top Spock, bottom, Reader Summary: Spock has been careful to keep track of his Pon Farr, but it still snuck up on him before you could have your first time as a couple. Now Spock has to ask something very intimate of you.

[atopfourthwall]

Ive only recently gotten into classic Star Trek so I don't think I can properly answer but what is it specifically about Discovery and recent Star Trek that classic Trek fans hate?

Putting this behind a cut because... it's a lot.

Well, first of all a big rejection of it is just on an aesthetic level. Up until the 2009 movie (which was considered a reboot, even with time travel elements), Star Trek tried to treat the original series and how it was portrayed as pretty sacrosanct. Sure, they might occasionally make jokes about goofier aspects of it and discard some of the stupider stuff (like how in the final episode, penned by Gene Roddenberry himself, that women weren't allowed to Captain starships), but how TOS looked? That's how the 23rd century looked. Buttons and multi-colored outfits and boxy computers and smooth, undetailed ships WAS what was appropriate for the time. When Scotty came back in TNG, they had him on the holodeck and it was the TOS bridge. When DS9 traveled back in time to that era for an episode? They went onto the Enterprise and visited it. When in an Enterprise 2-parter we had a TOS-era ship? It looked like a TOS ship. They even did a 2-parter on Enterprise to explain why Klingons had smooth foreheads when later (and earlier) they didn't. Star Trek up until then cared about maintaining that continuity of appearance. But Discovery is set in the TOS era... but nothing looks like TOS. Even when we got the Enterprise and those uniforms and we saw inside the ship, it was an upgraded form. The only logic I've seen people try to argue about WHY it doesn't look like it actually did was "Well, audiences won't accept something as cheap as TOS being futuristic." Well, then you've got a few responses there: -Don't set in TOS era, then. -That's horseshit, because audiences from the 90s through the 2000s accepted it just fine. Even a piece of dialogue from DS9 explained it perfectly: "I LOVE 23rd century design." It LOOKS cheap, but it was just the aesthetics of the period. And the Enterprise 2-parter it still looked good in HD. Hell, arguably it looked BETTER in HD because they knew how to light it and create mood and its own unique flavor. -It's even more horseshit because people are STILL going back and watching it even today, as indicated by you saying you've started watching it, so clearly it's not that much of a barrier. But what's even more egregious is the TECHNOLOGY. You might be able to accept updated aesthetics if at least matches what was present during the period... and it doesn't. Holographic displays and communication (holodeck technology AT ALL, frankly - it's possible it was there, but TNG seemed pretty adamant that the holodecks were fairly new, very impressive technology), weapons not looking or acting like they traditionally did, Enterprise and Discovery having R2D2-style repair droids that certainly did not exist in TOS, the wrong sound effects being frequently employed, replicator technology for good-looking food instead of food dispensers that gave out marshmallows and cubes, and honestly the tech level shown in Discovery looks just as advanced - if not MORE advanced than seen on TNG 100 years later. And this is a minor thing, but despite the attempt to make the future LOOK futuristic, from a cultural perspective, the future looks... way too damn similar to now. The excessive swearing (it was said in particular in Star Trek 4 that while they certainly did cuss, it was less common and they sure as hell weren't dropping F-bombs), a party on Discovery that looked like a rave (when previously it seemed like the most popular music and culture of the 23rd/24th century was considered fairly high-brow entertainment [classical music, Shakespeare, great works of literature and plays, etc.] - and while you could certainly argue that that snootiness and love of that stuff is a problem with Star Trek and a sign of how sterile and homogenized it is, THAT is the future they presented and a character in Voyager loving some of the goofier parts of 20th century culture like jukeboxes and old sci-fi serials was considered unusual), and just the general way people talk betrays the idea that the writers aren't thinking about how society changes in the future. It's just the modern day, but with cooler technology. But hey, let's set aside the general aesthetics - some people aren't going to mind that and find

ways to handwave away a lot of stuff (even Discovery season 2 TRIED to handwave away stuff like the holographic communications, but did a piss-poor job of it). This brings us to the problem of the WRITING. And the problem with the writing is a big Michael Burnham-shaped indentation. To be clear, I don't mind Michael as a character or her actress - there are interesting aspects to her, centering a Star Trek show around the science officer is a neat idea (though that means you should probably NAME IT AFTER HER and not around the ship, because it suggests this is a standard ensemble group and not JUST her)... but the actual execution is that it feels like the entire universe bends over backwards for HER. She has a unique relationship with a beloved longtime character that is retconned in. She has unique relationships with several important characters to the point where the fate of billions of people hinges on her and the decisions she makes. She is presented as almost always correct about everything, and those that oppose her are often wrong, naïve, or active enemies. Now, this is less of an issue in the third season - but that has its own unique problems - but in the first season, the resolution of two major storylines (mirror universe and the Klingon war) revolves around her and her relationship to the Terran Emperor and Lorca. In season 2, her mother trying to help or save her is the basis of the ENTIRE friggin' plot with time travel and the like, with special knowledge and history having to do with her and everyone ready to abandon their lives for her so she won't be alone when she has to go to the future when arguably they barely know her (the timeline of the show is debatable). Season 3 has a few different problems with her - the first is that she keeps being involved in things that don't concern her (why is she going down to Trill?) and she keeps violating orders. Now, her violating orders is a problem throughout the entirety of Discovery - in fact, it's kind of the instigating factor OF the series. And arguably, other Star Trek characters are guilty of that and they face no consequences, just as she faces none... and yet it's the brazenness with which it happens, and in those other series it's arguable because the series tries to avoid excessive continuity changes for its episodic nature, so the status quo MUST return to normal... but Discovery is pivoted as one of MAJOR continuity, so her lack of consequences (and indeed eventual PROMOTION) is baffling to the point of frustration. Now again, let me be clear here - she is not a bad character in and of herself. Honestly what it shows is that being the science officer on a starship is not where her talents lie. She should be in a position where she has a lot more freedom to act and not in a major command structure... but being in that command structure, what we see in season 3 is that she lacks the discipline, emotional maturity, responsibility, leadership qualities, and general other traits necessary to be a Captain. Only once during season 3 did she display such a quality - putting the safety of the Federation above a friend and colleague... but other times she will happily disobey orders and put herself and others in harm's way, creating potential new problems. Now, again, Star Trek is rife with characters doing that... but usually not the Captains. And, in fact, when this happened once on DS9 with one officer disobeying orders and putting their own personal feelings above the greater responsibility, it was made VERY clear that the incident would mean that they would never be able to command a starship because of the unofficial reprimand. What's even more frustrating about her is that the character is ALWAYS shoved to the forefront so much to the point where we just get sick of her. SHE is the one giving log entries (usually pretty piss-poor ones, at that - very flowery and nonsensical and kind of dumb) and not the Captain. SHE is the one given so much focus and how the plot of the episode affects her. Barely anyone else gets any focus episodes - I STILL can't

remember the names of some of the secondary characters because they're so rarely said, and a PTSD-related plotline in season 3 for one of the secondary characters basically gets resolved OFF-SCREEN. Michael would be fine if we actually had a chance to miss her... but we never do. Arguably one of the best episodes of the show is in season 2, when it focuses on Saru and his people because Michael DOES take a back seat. It's his story and his development and problems relating to him and his people. And even if, again, we forgave the idea of so much focus on her even in plots that aren't about her... she never seems to really change that much. She'll TALK about how she's changed, but I see no real difference in the way she acts (MAYBE season 1 to 2, where in season 1 she was stiffer and more Vulcan-like, but that's it). But hey, let's assume that's not a problem for you - you really, REALLY like Michael and are fine with so much focus on her. Simply put, the writing of the rest of the show... is just kind of dumb. The ship is powered by magic mushrooms that let it teleport everywhere because the universe has super fungus capillaries throughout it that nobody can see and also it's magic and can resurrect the dead. The time travel plot of season 2 doesn't make any sense when you sit down and diagram it. Well-established Trek lore is just kind of sprinkled in, but now in ways that doesn't match what it was before or at least in ways that completely recolor how it's supposed to work, because it needs to serve THIS plot. Everyone remembering a murdererous monster fondly after she leaves because "Hey, she was coooool." The explanation for the big mystery in season 3 is just fricking stupid and one of the two big reasons why I've finally given up on Discovery, because it's just so absurd, doesn't match how anything works, and just feels like the writers giving the middle finger to the audience because they care more about "YOU MUST FEEEEEEL THINGS!" instead of it making sense. And indeed, there is certainly a balance to be made of plot vs. emotion-driven storytelling - some stories are dumb, but are forgivable because the character writing and emotion are so strong that they override how goofy the plot is... but sometimes a plot is just so dumb it overrides anything I'm SUPPOSED to feel. And it would help if I already liked the show, already gave it some benefit of the doubt... but I don't and it hasn't done enough to impress me. A little thing that's a problem with ALL of current modern Trek shows is that whole sprinkling lore thing - I don't think a single episode goes by in ANY current modern Trek series that doesn't have a random reference to classic Trek lore. A name, a line of dialogue, etc. It comes across like the creators don't trust you to enjoy it on its own merits, but want you to like it because "Hey, remember thing? We know about thing! Like us because we mentioned thing!" But hey, I recognize that these are things that other people may not have any problem with or just disagree in general. But for me and my family, these are the big ones that keep us from enjoying it. Hell, my brother and dad still watch it for hatewatching purposes, but I was done after season 3. I gave it plenty of chances to impress me, and while each season MARGINALLY got better as it went along, I'm tired of waiting to actually like it and to stop feeling like it thinks I'm a fucking idiot. If other people still like it, great - it clearly appeals to them in a way that it doesn't appeal to me and they are free to enjoy it. Other people probably have their own issues, but this long, rambly bit is the major stuff for me.

[lenievi]

Strange New Worlds #9

of course that out of all characters to be antagonistic to Spock they would choose Sam Kirk. of course they would *rolls eyes*

The thing about snw is that it’s moving too fast (I guess that’s the problem of modern times media in general??? they’re not able to truly do an episodic show anymore???). They resolved M’Benga and Rukiya’s story way too soon imho. They didn’t truly allow us to know Hemmer... (I mean it’s sci-fi so anything can happen but...)

it’s an enjoyable show, all episodes are good, it can get emotional, funny, but it lacks long lasting emotions to the characters, at least for me. They focus too much on Spock tbh (and while I don’t dislike the romantic aspect of his arc, to be honest it was the best character arc of the season for me*, sometimes I’m like is that really what was the best choice for Spock? Romance?) I think their emphasis on ‘we’re gonna do an episodic show’ made me have different expectations, but at the end of the day snw isn’t truly different from Disco 2 or 3 seasons format, what it lacks is that one character connecting it all (even though in season 2 Pike also served as a glue). I’m not saying one is better than the other, but Disco works better for me because it’s less disjointed, less fragmented)

I’m a bit uhm about “it makes you human” line from Chapel because I specifically do not enjoy others calling Spock “human” (occasionally saying that Spock has “human” qualities (even though it’s still ugh because why should humans be the best? love, compassion, emotions, they all exist with all other species as well, but I can excuse it in TOS) is fine when it’s used as juxtaposition to something, but stuff like “you’re becoming more human” “it was the most human” “it makes you human” is just ugh) - especially in an episode that showed how much Spock struggles internally and how those emotions are actually Vulcan - or in this case, just Spock’s

(I guess if it pushes Spock to more suppression and dislike of “what others sees as human emotions” I guess I can work with that...)

I’m also disappointed that Una isn’t really a character in this show. That she is underutilized. Maybe next episode? (I also don’t understand why they keep Una and Spock apart. Una probably shared scenes with all characters but Spock)

(if they’re gonna bring in Scotty instead of Hemmer - which, I mean is just my own ‘what are they gonna do now?’ - I’m hoping that they will actually bring in McCoy as well, with Kirk. Because their talk about “what did Kirk do in this time period?” - we actually knew that from bits and pieces in TOS, what we never knew was what McCoy did in this time period. So put him on the same ship with Kirk. It’s not like there aren’t novels like that anyway. It’s not like it doesn’t actually have some basis in TOS...)

Anyway, I really like this episode and I’m really sad about Hemmer... I really wish we could have more time with him.

I remember them explicitly saying that this season should have a two-parter, does it mean it’s gonna end with a cliffhanger??? In any case, I’m afraid that after the next week, I’m just gonna forget snw exists until season 2 airs next year...

---

*I wish they explored Uhura more, because her arc was also good, but not long enough. I also wish they didn’t abandon Una and La’an after the first half of the season and continued giving us scenes

[gumnut-logic]

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3

More Steampunk AU. This story is going a lot longer than expected (gee, what is new?). I hope you enjoy a little Virgil and Scotty.

Thanks to @janetm74 @scribbles97 and @tsarinatorment for the read throughs and support.

Worried brothers.

-o-o-o-

It was Virgil who saved John’s sight.

But it was Scott who saved Virgil.

Once Five was stabilised, they chose to stay on the coral sandbank for some time and recover. They were in the middle of nowhere. John was safe with Grandma and Virgil had Five with help from his brothers.

Virgil did launch Two once for supplies and Gordon went with him. Fortunately, they were within Two’s considerable reach of the very specific things Virgil needed to get his hands on. He dragged Gordon through not only the markets on the coast, but the factories the next town over, along with some optometry and jewellery specialists.

Gordon followed him quietly, not entirely happy to be away from Five and what he perceived as a threat, but Scott was there and quite capable of protecting their family from the caged beast.

Didn’t stop him from trying to hurry Virgil when he could.

But Virgil needed what he needed. Accounting for Five’s damage, John’s injuries, and a regular supply run for an extended stay at sea, Two was well stocked when she returned.

Finishing the majority of the necessary repairs to Five, Virgil then shut himself in his workshop and locked the door.

This was going to be a challenge to his entire skill set.

There were drawings, so many drawings, the occasional curse word and spilled ink but he came up with a design. It was beyond anything he had attempted before, beyond even Gordon’s legs.

This was a delicate tool requiring a very fine interface. Metal would have to connect to flesh in ways he thought he could manage.

Thought he could handle.

But this was John, he had to be sure.

He spent hours whitesmithing, his goggles switched to magnifying the components into focus.

His back ached as he bent over his workbench.

The main mechanisms of the artificial eye consisted of finely blown glass, an array of tiny lenses and micro prisms aligned in a spheric metal ‘eyeball��. The centre was supported and manoeuvred with a system of tiny gears allowing movement in all directions appropriate for a human eye.

He found his fingertips flaring more and more often to miniaturise the components and bring them together in the ways he needed.

Ultimately the eye was ever so small, so delicate, yet with the cahelium he so fondly wove into the metal, it should be strong.

An inlay of turquoise corundum was the one luxury beyond practicality Virgil allowed himself. The sapphire had been a godsend of a find on their trip out. He had hoped for a little blue topaz or to have to rely on enamelling to colour the iris, but a chance discovery, a major portion of his finance portfolio and he had a sizeable sapphire to cut to shape. The bonus above and beyond was the gem’s rutilation – an impurity that had seen it in the jeweller’s store room rather than on display, but it gave the gem enough of an irregularity to give it more of a resemblance to the iris it was replacing rather than cold hard rock.

It was that hardness that was the main reason Virgil had opted for the gem above other possibilities. Corundum was second only in hardness to diamond and cushioned correctly in the mechanism should never need replacing in his brother’s life.

But all that would be moot if Virgil couldn’t interface the mechanism with John’s nervous system.

That was the most challenging part of the project. Virgil needed to create connections never before attempted. Wires almost microscopic. He had tools, but mostly towards the end, he had to rely on his own innate talents. He had to reach into the very components the wires were made from, removing excess metal, shaving it thinner and thinner…

“Virgil?”

It was whispered, but he still startled, the ever so fine wire dropping to the spotless countertop in front of him.

His heart pounded and he found himself grabbing for breath.

A hand landed on his back and rubbed slow circles. “I’m sorry, but you had been frozen in place for a very long time.” Scott’s voice was truly repentant and quiet.

Virgil blinked and forced calm on his heart. “It requires a lot of concentration.”

His brother eyed the components scattered across the table. “What are you doing?”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped and he swallowed. There was no use hiding it. He would have to face his brother sooner or later. “Building John a new eye.”

The hand on his back froze. “A glass eye?” It was a grasp at a straw and they both knew it. The fine slithers Virgil brushed from his fingers were obviously not glass.

They glittered cahelium in the bright light of his lamp.

“Glass is a component of the design, yes, but no, not a static glass eye.”

The hand dropped away from his back. He missed it immediately. “Then what are you making?”

“A replacement.” He didn’t want to see the fear in his brother’s eyes so he looked down at his hands. “Fully working replacement.”

There was silence for a moment. “How? An eye is not a leg.”

Virgil stood up, walked over to his drafting table and picked up the design. The finely detailed technical drawing was covered in notes. A loose rendering of John’s face and the connections involved were included. His big brother had enough experience with his own design work to understand the basics.

He handed the sheet to his brother, returned to his worktop, and began tidying up the slithers with a soft brush. He kept everything; the fine wires so small that slithers could be enough to be useful.

“You are going to plug this into our brother?”

The words were harsh, but expected. “Essentially, yes.”

“How?”

“The detail is there.” He still refused to look in Scott’s direction.

“Connecting directly into his nervous system? Again, I ask ‘how’?”

“Working on it.”

“Have you spoken to John about it?”

“No. No need to get his hopes up yet.”

“And what will it cost?”

“I have already transferred the necessary funds. The sapphire was the most expensive, but I can cover it.”

“The sapph-? What?” His brother took a step forward and touched his arm, turning Virgil around to face him. “I don’t care about monetary expense. My question was about what this exercise will cost you personally.” He gestured at Virgil’s hands. “Your gifts, Virgil. You know my thoughts on medical intervention.”

Virgil looked up at his brother. Those stern, worried blue eyes were combing him for answers that he couldn’t honestly give. “I think I am capable.”

“You think?”

“I managed with Gordon.”

“You didn’t plug his legs into his nervous system, Virgil. Gordon can remove his legs. This is permanent for John.”

“He needs to see the stars.”

“He can see the stars. He has a working eye. Why take the risk?”

“Because if I can do this, it will be worth it.”

“If?”

“I don’t have all the answers, Scott.” He set his shoulders and took a small step back. “I’m just trying to fix what is broken.”

“And what if you can’t?”

“I can at least try!”

“The risk-“

“As always, is mine to take! I will test the equipment, talk to John and a decision will be made.”

“Virgil-“

“The device is nearly complete. I will let you know if we choose to proceed further.” He turned his back on his big brother and it hurt.

“I can order you.”

Whispered. “No, you can’t.” It was John’s decision and Virgil’s skill and determination. “This has nothing to do with the operation of this ship or International Rescue.”

“It has to do with family.” Scott’s voice was hollow.

Virgil’s head dropped to stare at his hands. “Sometimes you can only trust.”

The silence after that statement was long. Scott’s cane tapped quietly once on the metal deck. “I trust you, Virgil.” An audible swallow. “But I also fear for you.”

Little more than breath. “I know.” Sometimes his abilities were a curse on his family for all the worry they caused.

His brother said nothing after that and it took Virgil a moment to realise that the man had left without a word. His heart sank just a little further. There was no doubt that this was not the end of the discussion.

He turned back to his desktop, but the urge to continue his work tonight was gone. He was exhausted. ‘Mancy was tiring and he had been at it for hours on end.

So instead, he chose to head to his quarters for some decent sleep.

Perhaps that had been Scott’s sole purpose of visit. Likely was.

Switching off the lights with a sigh, he walked to the door. His workshop seemed cold and empty without the passion to create.

He turned his back and left. He would resume work tomorrow.

It was Scott who saved Virgil.

But it was Gordon who saved Scott’s heart.

-o-o-o-

Next

[soft-for-them]

you’re going to feel so warm when you meet him ♡ aos montgomery scott x plus size reader ♡ soulmate AU

anon: Hey could I please request a aos Scotty and preferably but not necessarily plus-size reader soulmate au? Thank you so much! Your writing is lovely! ♥️♥️

really like this one, not proof read.

You were always fucking cold and you blame your soulmate.

Everyone has soulmate, a forever friend, what ever you want to call it. 

Soulmates are your other half, your best friends and whilst they aren’t necessarily romantic they can lead to your future significate other.

Soulmates feel the feelings of their other half; some people feel it straight from birth some have ‘the moment’ when they’re older, when they finally connect with their soulmate’s feelings.

For so many years you felt nothing and it had begun to worry you. Well it worried you until you felt their feelings on your first week at the academy.

You remember it like it was yesterday. 

It was a sweltering day and you had felt good enough to roll up your uniform sleeves with out people judging your chubby upper arms. 

Your new friend Jim Kirk, a man who had attached himself on you on the first day, also had his sleeves rolled up.

‘It’s too hot.’ you complained as you pulled at the form fitting red uniform.

‘We’re too hot (y/n), turn a negative into a positive.’

You playfully slapped the taller man on the arm as you both entered the large classroom.

‘Shut up Jim you know the only hot one here is Nyota Uhura.’

For the rest of the class you were taking notes whilst talking to Jim but then you had felt a shiver run up your body.

At first you had though it was the air conditioning blowing on you too much but then you realised that there wasn’t any air conditioning in the classroom.  

‘This sucks, they haven’t fix the aircon yet.’ Jim said whilst fanning himself with one of you notebooks.

Another shiver shook your body, the polar opposite feeling of cold overwhelmed you.

That day the shivering got progressively worse, so bad in fact that you collapsed in class from violent shivers with the beginnings of hypothermia.

And from that day you have been wearing an oversized winter coat so you don’t die from being so cold.

You don’t feel your soulmate for most of your life but then all you can feel is coldness and the occasional hangover, how romantic.

.

.

‘God damn it Jim this is a serious situation.’ you shout to the tired looking man and his good doctor friend, Leonard McCoy.

It’s the aftermath of the Romulan attack and you had been running around in your puffer coat all day, now only realising that you feel warm.

You don’t feel cold any more.

Leonard had checked all you vitals and he has concluded that you’re at normal body temperature, unlike your below zero temperature you normally had.

‘(Y/n) take off that coat, I don’t want you overheating.’ Bones demands.

‘Nope. Never. It’s my comfort blanket.’  you snuggle more into the ripped and sweaty garment which had taken the full force of the Romulan attack.

At first when you had gotten the specially made coat you felt horrid. It made you already big body bigger and you though you looked like colourful marshmallow.

However, you have grown to love the puffy coat with all your heart and you are hesitant to remove it from your person, even if it’s falling off you.

‘What if their dead?’ you ask out loud, it’s the only scenario that is playing in your head but Jim has been telling you that it isn’t true.

‘He’s not dead (y/n)-’ Jim sits down next you for some reassurance. 

‘But I can’t feel them- wait him?’ your plea turns into confusion as you peer up to your dear friend and then to the more confused doctor. 

‘I think I’ve met him (y/n).’ Jim calmly says to you.

You look to and from Jim and Bones watching their reactions. 

Jim looks knackered but happy whilst it takes a moment for Bones to click on about who Jim is talking about.

‘Jim. Leonard.’ you stand anger bubbling up instead of happiness, ‘You better not be fucking with me.’

Tears bubble in your eyes. Too much has happened, you don’t want any false hope for who your soulmate might be, you need to be sure.

Jim nods at Bones who swiftly carries on with his job, leaving you two alone.

‘Jim. What’s going on.’ you are desperate, salty tears are now flowing down your face.

Jim stands up and hugs you. The hug is one of great comfort and friendship, like an older brother's hug.

‘You’re going to feel so warm when you meet him.’ he holds you away from the hug like a proud dad looking at his child, ‘Though you won’t feel it with that thing still on you.’

Jim points at the coat which is over heating you.

‘I’m not taking it off Jim.’ you give him a grumpy look and cross your arms.

‘Can you even take it off?’ You look away from the man which makes him giggle.

‘...No, the zip is stuck...’ you pout, ‘I’m not cutting it off. It’s sentimental to me!’

Your arms uncross, showing the many cuts across the coat. Even though it’s broken the cuts can be easily stitched up and covered up.

Jim takes your dangling arm and drags you with him.

‘Come on, let’s get this thing off you.’

‘But what about my soulmate Jim! Don’t change the subject!’ you arm starts to hurt from the enthusiastic man pulling on it.

The signature James.T Kirk smile pops on his face, he doesn’t respond.

Through much walking and a turbolife ride you both end up in Engineering.

‘Scotty!’ Jim shouts out as you look around at the engines of the ship, ‘need some help here!’

Beads of sweat start to form on you from the warm room, the coat you wear feels like it’s getting smaller around you. 

Maybe it is the best thing to take it off.

‘Aye, Captain. What do you need?’

A man, who you suppose is Scotty, walks out towards you both.

He is a red shirt with receding hair and a sweaty forehead. However, you find him to be quite cute, especially when he sees you and smiles.

‘You got anything to unzip my dear friend from this death trap?’

Jim turns and points at you, you give Scotty a tiny wave.

To Scotty you look too cute but he does wonder what you look like underneath due to the coat covering most of yourself.

‘Ah, we just need a pencil and some patience.’ Scotty hurries away to find a pencil.

‘A pencil!’ You stare daggers at the all too happy man, ‘Jim we didn’t need to come down to engineering to get a pencil!’

Your whisper shouting is interrupted but the resurfaces of Scotty holding a flat pencil in his hand.

‘May I?’ Scotty says coming closer to you. You shyly smile and say a small ‘yes’ before he comes closer.

‘You see you use the pencil on the top of the zip-’ you allow him to closer and begin to use the pencil on the zip, ‘-and it should loosen it-’

A blush has surfaced on your face, though you can easily say it’s from you overheating but the same blush has appeared on Scotty’s face. 

He jiggles the zip which undoes, he steps away so you can unzip the coat fully.

Like it’s the easiest thing in the world the coat comes off like shedding skin. You are automatically cooler as the puffy thing drops to the floor reliving your yellow dress uniform underneath.

You feel naked.

The coat was a comfort that coved up the your curves and the shortness of the uniform dress. Sure, you’re wearing thermal tights and big bulky winter boots but you still start to feel a tad insecure.

‘How you feeling (y/n)?’ Jim shouts from the sidelines with the same big smile on his face.

‘Weird. I feel weird Jim.’

You go to kneel down and retrieve the coat but Scotty beats you to it.

‘Here lass, I’ll get it for you.’

Scotty bends down and grabs the coat, he examines the cut up martial in his hands, he looks up right in your eyes and speaks.

‘Thermal martial, quite expensive for a normal winter coat.’ his is really just thinking out loud but the observation makes you smile.

He hand you over the coat which you hug into your body.

‘Yeah, well good job I didn't have to pay for it.’  Scotty looks confused, ‘It is- it was apart of my uniform. I had a thing before, was always cold.’

Jim looks on at you both babbling about the coat, he decides to intervene for both of you haven’t realised yet.

‘Didn't you wear a similar coat on that ice planet Scotty?’ 

Jim walks closer to you, who is hugging your coat too much to fully comprehend what’s to come.

‘Nah, I still froze half to bloody death.’ 

‘...what...’ your focus sifts to the Scotsman, shock morphs onto your face.

‘Yeah had hypothermia but somehow survived. Don’t know how I did?’

Scotty is oblivious to what has just dawned on you, he carries on talking about his time on the ice planet. However, he is interrupted but the soft thud of the bulky coat dropping on the floor.

Scotty turns to you to see tears escaping your face, his eyes start to water too.

He had been sweating more than usual for most of the day and now he is crying in front of a pretty lass and his Captain, how embarrassing.

‘A-are you sure Jim?’ you barley whisper as you stare at Scotty in front of you, salty tears still poring.

‘As sure as the day follows the night (y/n).’

A sound, that is like a mix between a laugh and a exclamative ‘huh’ escapes your lips along with the biggest smile. Your face, despite having tear stains, is a bright as the sun which is still shining.

Scotty is overcome by your happiness, a deep blush rises up his neck and covers his face.

‘Lass, you ok?’ he scratches the back of his neck in slight embarrassment for his sudden ripe red face.

‘I think we may have to sit down before I tell you this.’

.

.

You groan as you wake up from your slumber, the alarm blaring for you to get up.

Like you’ve done every day you heave the heavy and thick duvet cover off yourself however you are surprised to see the thing on the floor.

‘Whaa-’ you pat around yourself to feel that you have also striped yourself of your thick cotton pyjamas, only leaving yourself in some underwear.

It the dawns on you like deja vu, you feel warm.

‘Yeah, I found him.’ you groggily say as you swing your legs off the bed. You get ready for the rest of your day, with the recurring though of ‘I feel warm.’

To making the bed to putting on uniform, you are hit with the realisation that you don’t need all this thermal stuff for you’re not going to die of the cold.

Even when you slip on the horridly short yellow uniform that does fit well around your curves, you feel slightly more happy to wear it.

Despite that, you still hover at your door when you’re about the leave. Sure it’s stupid to bring along a cut up coat but would it hurt to take a long cardigan for comfort.

You run to your wardrobe and take out a thin and long black cardigan, which hides enough of your ‘bad looking’ areas that the uniform dress has created.

Old habits are hard to kill and you’re happy that they aren’t completely dead.

In your long cardigan and big boots you joyfully walk to the bridge.

The bridge doors swish open and you feel eyes on you.

‘Ah, (y/n) you’re finally here!’ your good friend chimes, the rest of the bridge crew agreeing.

‘You look very nice (y/n).’ Uhura says.

‘I agree, everything you wear is very efficient.’ Spock joins in.

A small and polite ‘thank you’ comes out. You walk over to your seat near Chekov and Sulu, both men say their ‘good mornings’ like the normally do.

You sigh as you lower you gaze to the small screen. However, you feel a hand on your shoulder. 

Looking up you see Scotty, your soulmate, holding a cup in his hand.

‘I though I’d come and check up on you-’ he passes the mug to you, ‘And give you your morning tea/coffee.’

‘You remembered!?!’

‘Aye. We did talk for three hours last night you know.’

You remember the night before when you told the man your realisation of you being his soulmate. For three hours you sat and watched him fix parts of the ship whilst talking.

It was the best three hours of your life.

‘I’ll see you at lunch?’ Scotty questions, hoping that you also remember that you agreed to have lunch with him.

‘Would miss it for the world!’

.

.

.

it took me so long to finish this one but i really like it! i love scotty so much so i didn’t feel like a drag to write it at all.

anyhow, i’m always up for writing more scotty so if you have a star trek request please send it in!

this was edited on the 6th of December, just some little spelling errors changed.

(also finding good star trek gifs is sooooo hard.)

[hummingbird-of-light]

Post Tenebras Lux

PART 39 ~ Scotty

Scott looked up into his love’s eyes and swallowed again.

“I… I think he believed it.”

The grip on his face tightened for a moment but then it turned into a soft touch.

Khan closed his eyes and turned away, controlling his breath slowly. He covered his face with one hand and Scotty carefully touched his arm.

“Khan?”

Was his love alright? What was wrong?

“I’m sorry, Montgomery.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed in confusion and he furrowed his brow. And suddenly his boyfriend was facing him again, cupping the Scotsman’s face in his palms.

“I’m sorry… for everything. I… I promise that I’ll… I’ll do better.”

Scotty nodded slowly. There he was. The man he had fallen in love with back then. Soothing, loving, gentle.

He lifted his hand to place it on Khan’s, intertwining their fingers.

“I don’t mean to lose my temper, it’s just… sometimes you do things that I can not cope with.”

The engineer gave him another nod, his eyes moving to the floor ashamed.

“I’m sorry, Khan. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

He felt arms softly wrapping around his body and a hand ran through his hair.

“Shh, it’s okay. We’ll be fine, Montgomery. We’ll be just fine.”

And suddenly tears streamed down the Scotsman’s face as he held Khan. He felt awful for disappointing him, for not being careful enough. For having feelings for another man.

When his boyfriend let go of him and wiped away the tears with his thumbs, Scotty nearly chocked on the words caught in his throat.

‘My heart is racing for the doctor who took care of me. I think I’ve fallen for him.’

He couldn’t say that out loud. He couldn’t hurt Khan like that.

“Let’s… let’s spend some time together. We… we could visit the planetarium. I know that you long to go there.”

And even though he was tired like hell… he nodded again. He wanted to be a good boyfriend after all.

PART 40 ~ McCoy

The rest of his shift had dragged on. McCoy had tried to focus his mind on his work and forget what had happened in the morning.

He let himself into his house and headed for his bedroom. He didn’t bother with any of the lights and fell forward onto his bed.

A low groaning sob was muffled by a pillow. Mr. Scott’s smile was there behind his eyelids again. His scared eyes. Who had he been scared of? His boyfriend? Or McCoy when he had turned threatening?

How had this happened? A patient smiled at him and he fell to pieces? Threatened their significant other? For what? A smile? A racing in his chest?

McCoy rolled over and stared at the ceiling in the dark. He lived alone, but the house had never seemed as empty as it did right now. Lonely. He was lonely.

He had friends. He dated occasionally. But never anyone to last. In that moment he longed for someone to hold on to. To hold him. McCoy had never had such an immediate, electric connection with anyone before.

And the time he did… the other person wasn’t available.

He should get up. Have a hot shower, make some dinner. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t yet.

So he closed his eyes and pictured Mr. Scott’s smile again. One last time, before he pushed the man from his thoughts and out of his mind, and sorted himself back out.

[qvid-pro-qvo]

fuck, marry, kill

aos!leonard mccoy x female!reader, who’s a nurse on the starship enterprise. 

word count: 5885

rating: explicit (workplace sex, at the end, for fun.) 

part one of more than a game, you and me.

A silly game from your academy days gets interrupted, leaving you to think over how you really feel about the great Dr. McCoy. 

“Goddammit, bastard, son of a fucking bitch,” you hissed, shaking your hand after yanking it back from the control panel next to your shower. It had the gall to shock you, one that rippled down your arm and almost made your other hand drop the towel you clung to for decency. Somehow the same steady hands that could wield a pair of hypodermics and a tricorder without thinking about it managed to break every other piece of equipment on the Enterprise.

A year since you got transferred, a year since the last major headache, and you had managed to build up a routine. Waking up to beta shifts until the six-month mark when you transferred to alpha shifts that gave you more to do without the headaches of fighting artificial daylight. Crew physicals and routine exams for viruses carried onboard from earth until all the crew had been cleared. Lunches six hours in, dinner six hours after that, followed by a jog, some yoga, a shower, and then… repeat.

It was a good routine. One that made you friends with other nurses in blue and engineers in red and a few on the captain track who came in more often because of their proximity to the action. You could now say “hello” to Sulu and “good morning” to Chekov and other niceties to a couple other officers. And they’d smile back, and all in all nothing was disrupted. Your routine kept you going.

But now, that routine was stopped in its tracks.

With a little huff, you shook your head. Fortunately for you, your connections through routine hypos and the occasional healing after a scuffle gave you one particularly good friend. One who was very good at fixing up the Enterprise in any state she was in. And because of your clumsiness and tendency to get shocked, that friend was simply a comm unit away. Decency first, of course.

“Y/N to Scotty.”

“Aye, lass, Scotty here.”

A sigh of relief that he wasn’t on break, or worse, sleeping. That’d been a bear you wouldn’t want to disturb more than once. Your fingers tapped away, allowing his voice to fill the room rather than sound tinny coming from the communicator and your hands to hunt for a shirt.

“Yeah, we’ve got a situation. My shower isn���t working?”

“Is that right,” the chief engineer replied, and you could tell by his voice that under the amusement there was distraction. Your problem was not the only one on his plate, then. Or at the very least, not his main focus.

“Yeah, that’s right. Shocked me, as a matter of fact, when I tried to get it going.”

“Mmm.” Make that a lot of distraction.

“Scotty?”

“Yeah, lass?”

“Can you come fix it?”

“Fix what?”

With a soft sigh you pulled your shirt over your head, shaking out your hair before pulling it up into something passable for company.

“My shower, Scott. Y’know, again, the one that shocked me. That’s not turning on. That shower.”

“Shocked you? Well, this is the first I’m hearing about it,” he scoffed, indignant, and your eyes went wide with disbelief before you heard his chuckle.

“Oh, so I’m the entertainment for this evening, then,” you muttered with a scowl, scrounging around for the pants you just had on and the regulation zip-up you could walk around the halls in.

“Of course, Y/L/N,” he retorted. “I was wondering when the next time you’d call was. After all, it’s been, what, almost a week since our last incident with the replicator, hasn’t it been?”

“Two weeks, thank you,” you snapped, the pants snatched off the floor and shaken out with a vengeance. One foot began making its way inside the leg of the pants, the other hopping on the floor. “Monty, please, I just got off shift, I’m tired, and I’m sweaty, and there were three cases of Takarian bronchiolitis that we had to treat with airborne precautions. Never mind next week’s also Christine’s birthday, who I love with all of my heart but the party I got roped into planning for, of fucking – agh!”

“Y/N!”

Bouncing on one leg could only last for so long, of course. Your head thankfully did not contact anything with a hard surface. Your ass, however, got the brunt of the blow, specifically your tailbone.

“Y/N?”

When you groaned, you heard the relief, as well as the stifled laughter.

“Can you just please come fix my shower? I think there’s an analgesic hypo with my name on it back in the med bay.”

-

Of course, you weren’t one to completely bypass the rules. The Enterprise had enough of that in places other than the medical unit, and your chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy, was a stickler for right and wrong and lines that shouldn’t be crossed. So, your hypodermic needle was checked out by Christine, administered by her, and all logged and dated with a note about the situation. And, because your appointment didn’t technically end for another fifteen minutes, there was enough time for a little bit of gossip.

Your type of news always was the kind of shit that got the whole crew talking. The next adventure, who was sleeping with who, the drama that came out of confessions when the ship was falling apart. Anything to work through the monotony. But Christine’s favorite topic was almost always you, much to your chagrin.

“You know I don’t have a love life,” you said with a roll of your eyes, sitting up on the biobed and letting your feet dangle off of the edge. “That hasn’t changed in the three days since you asked me last.”

“I do know you’re at the very least no fun about it,” she responded with an eye roll, fingers tracing over your vitals the bed collected and reported. “There’s hundreds of people on this ship, and you’re telling me that none of them catch your eye? What about the chief engineer?”

Immediately your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the laugh that left you. “Scotty? No. No, no, we’re just friends, aggressively friends. He keeps me around because I’m the only one who gives him stuff to do during the night shifts. Without me breaking lightbulbs it’d be too dull.”

Of course, her eyebrow crept up in suspicion, but when your gaze held steady, she dropped her eyes, waving a hand like the idea was preposterous anyway.

“All right. So, no Scotty. Any ensigns?”

“No.”

“Lieutenants?”

“No.”

“Cadets?”

“Oh, my god, Christine,” you gasped out with a laugh, jumping off of the biobed, smacking her on the arm.  “Stop it.” Your eyes glanced around the med bay, but just like every beta shift began, it was pretty damn quiet. Not a soul in sight besides the two of you. “There’s no one.”

“Well, you’re no fun,” she sighed, pushing off of the wall to meet you nose to nose. “But there’s gotta be someone who at least catches your eye, right?”

“Chris…”

“Someone on this ship you’d be willing to fuck – “

“No, we’re not – “

“- marry, maybe – “

“Christine, I swear to god – “

“- or kill?”

Again, your eyes darted around, but at that point the game had been called. A throwback to your time in the academy, when your classmates would find the local bars and a booth to heckle each other in. When passersby would be unknowingly subjected to a game based on nothing but good fun, and usually a whole lot of booze.

Simple premise. Three names called out. Each gets a label, and the rounds continue until the players decide they’ve had enough. Called anywhere, at any time, and Christine had thrown the gauntlet.

“You’re on duty,” you pointed out, but you leaned back on the biobed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“And if there’s a patient I’ll tend to them. But you’ve got nowhere to be, and if I have a say we’re finding someone on this ship for you,” she pointed out, before swiping your scans away from the vicinity and joining you on the bed. “Three rounds. I bet you I can do it in three rounds.”

With an eye roll you proceeded to glare at her, but her grin did not budge once, and with a sigh you just nodded.

“Perfect. Why don’t we start with a throwback? Old classmates? Harrison, Twyla, and Betty.”

Your smile crept up on your face, and without a second thought you rattled it off. “Fuck Twyla, marry Harrison, kill Betty. Obviously.” Considering that two of the three weren’t even on the ship, you knew that it was more a warmup than anything. Lots of pretty people at the Starfleet Academy.

“All right. And then… oh, what about the bridge crew?”

“Christine,” you groaned, hand smacking over your face. “We’re in public.”

“There’s no one here, and you can’t chicken out of the second round! Look, we’ll do… Lieutenant Sulu, Lieutenant Uhura, and Ensign Chekov.”

Your jaw clenched. Forget about saying hi to Sulu ever again.

“I would… I would…”

“C’mon. You can say it, Y/N.”

“Fine, fine!” But you couldn’t help your laughter as you shoved Christine’s arm again. “I would… I would fuck Uhura, marry Sulu, and – “

“And kill Chekov? He’s got a baby face! You’re gonna kill him where he stands!”

“Christine, this is not real life,” you reminded her with a hiss, shaking your head before beginning to walk towards the door. “I’m leaving before I end up having to resign.”

“Oh, no! We’ve got one more go.”

“I’m walking. My tailbone doesn’t even hurt anymore. The miracle of modern medicine.”

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“Captain Kirk.”

“No, Christine.”

“Commander Spock.”

“Stop!”

“And Dr. Mccoy!”

“What about me?”

Your heart stopped.

“Nurse Y/L/N, is that right?” Dr. McCoy, the man himself, stated, raising a brow as he moved into the med bay, boxes stacked up in his hand. Christine did the smart thing, moving forward to help the doctor carry them inside, but your feet were cemented to the floor, mouth a little agape, color flooding your cheeks.  

“Y-Yes! Hello, sir, I was just – uh, I was just –“ you stammered, turning to follow them both with your eyes as their load was dropped on one of the biobeds. “Well. I was just leaving, really.”

“She had an appointment,” Christine offered, her best and most polite smile on for your shared boss, who seemed too tired to do more than nod. “And we were just discussing… shifts?”

“Shifts.” Again, Dr. McCoy’s brow raised, and with skilled fingers he reached to slide them along the seam, a hiss sounding out as they opened up, bearing unloaded hypodermics, some bandaging supplies.

“Shifts.” Your voice was weak as you confirmed it, but while his eyes were down Christine gave you a subtle nod, winking even as you scowled at her. “You see, I was just – I was just wondering if I could take the beta shift next week, and… well. That’s a change I need you to sign off on. Dr. M’Benga and dr. Olson didn’t have a preference when I asked them.”

“Uh-huh,” was the gruff response, and as his fingers reached up to scratch at his chin, something like amusement seemed to play in his eyes. Although, thinking about it, you reasoned it was probably just the exhaustion and the lights in the med bay you saw instead. “So, you scheduled an appointment with Christine and my medbay, takin’ up one of the biobeds here, to talk about shift changes?”

“No. No, no, it wasn’t just about that,” you got out, more heat rising to your cheeks, and thankfully your feet were moving backwards, towards the door, as their hands slid into gloves and prepped the new cargo for treatment.

“She… took a spill in her quarters. Needed an analgesic. I did a scan to make sure it wasn’t anything more than a bruised tailbone and then gave her a dose of lidocaine for the area and acetaminophen for the pain.” Of course, Christine could chime in, sounding composed, while you had just managed to regain motor functioning.

“I see,” McCoy responded, and there was a brief moment where you were sure he was gonna call your bluff. You didn’t even remember right away that there was a hypo-stick in the first place, and the lidocaine definitely did not happen, right? But then, something, almost like a smirk washed over his features. They relaxed, and those eyes lit up again, deep and dark and warm. It was like taking a shot of whiskey, the sour leaving behind something that made your breath catch.

“You know you could just say you fell on your ass, Nurse Y/L/N.”

The stories about Dr. McCoy in a nutshell. No southern charm, just a sweet Georgian gut punch. Humor hiding in the comment, of course, but at that point your embarrassment made it taste pretty damn bitter.  

Thankfully, though, the moment was gone. The smirk vanished, the exhaustion seemed to settle over him like a blanket, and his eyes glanced toward you once again before shrugging. “beta shift works for me. Just don’t let it screw with your head too much and find someone who’s willing to trade.”

“That’s… yes. Well - good night, sir,” you got out, biting your lower lip, bowing your head before shooting another glare at Christine. “Good night, Nurse Chapel, and I’ll see you both… when I see you.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Christine called out, and the good doctor managed a hum of acknowledgement, his attention already pulled away from your retreating form. And if there was a second glance at you, it was nothing more than confirmation that the night was back to peace and quiet.

-

“I am never going to recover from this.”

“Mmm,” Scotty ground out, his arm elbow deep into the guts of the Enterprise.

“I mean it, Monty!” You cried out, back flat on your bed, arm thrown across your face but leaving your mouth wide open to complain. “Jesus Christ and now I’ve gotten myself roped into beta shifts, ready to be bored out of my skull for a whole damn week. He thinks I’m an idiot. An idiot and insane!”

“D’you think?” Was the reply, but the lack of attention didn’t bother you one bit. You were barely paying attention.

No, your head was running wild, with the fear that the greatest job you had, the job you were best at, was now at risk because of some dumb game you played with Christine. What if Dr. McCoy had heard all of it? What if he had just walked in because he had heard enough, and then you’d get called into his office, not a smirk in sight, and request your resignation? Could he do that? Off of a conversation?

“Y/N!” Scotty called out, and that’s what finally broke your spiral downward, your body shooting up to a sitting position, looking up to see Scotty staring out of the bathroom at you. Your water was running, you could hear it, and Scott was grinning from ear to ear, some kind of tool tucked behind his ear.

“All fixed,” he crowed with joy, brushing his hands off on his uniform. When he leaned on the doorway, his eyes were gazing around the rest of the place, as if it was just waiting to break on him, too. “computer, shut down the shower. Now, what were you saying, lassie? Somethin’ about our chief medical officer, yes?”

And as Scott smiled at you, no recognition of your crisis in him, you just smiled back, standing up to give him a hug. Even without saying anything, he had the best ideas.

“Nothing, Monty. Thanks for the fix.”

He was hustled out a few moments later, after a playful argument taking bets on what piece of machinery in this poor room would fall apart next (he was a fan of the faulty replicator, but you had a gut feeling it’d be the temperature control). But soon he was out of the room, and you knew that ignoring the whole thing would be the best option.

Except with Christine, ignorance was never an option for bliss. When your padd beeped, and then your communicator, you were forced to answer the message, looking to see a little smiley face emoticon with a message that left your heart falling to the floor.

“Your answer? :)”

Your answer? For the game? After all of that and Christine had the gall? But you could see her smile, even from this far, a smile that made you smirk.

But they were the rules, and so the question was left in your head. What was your answer? What were the options?

You thought about it as you started to get ready for bed, t-shirt set on the counter in the bathroom, hot shower started. Your hair was put up before you stripped, your face splashed with water and a towel as steam began to fill the room.

“Captain Kirk.” No personal experience with him, but you, like everyone on the ship, had seen him around. Had heard the legends. There wasn’t a soul who didn’t seem stricken by the love bug when it came to him, blond hair perfect, smile bright, blue eyes startlingly, well, blue. Friendly, quick, brave. He was the perfect man. But not everyone knew Christine. Christine, who’d had the lovely interaction with Cadet Kirk, at the time, who ended up kicking him out of your shared dorm room after a bad argument gone bad. The air was cleared enough that he managed to get polite smiles from her, but after that captain kirk never had the appeal. He was a playboy. His nature, his right, you supposed. But not for you.

“Commander Spock.” Tall, handsome. But very Vulcan, and very taken. Now, you knew he had to have some kind of sweet side, and there was something, you guessed, about the confidence that his reliance on logic seemed to convey. After all, you’d heard him lecture a few times, and if you were honest that would’ve been when you were most attracted to him – using his knowledge and logic and proud spirit to lead others on the path toward serving the federation. But there was only so far that logic and a lack of emotion could go, and even though you’d heard of outbursts occurring where his emotion made their mark? No. Arguments aplenty.

And who did that leave?

“Dr. McCoy.”

At that point, you still hadn’t entered the shower, and the computer was telling you that the water was about to automatically turn off to preserve the function of the ship’s supply, but your head was no longer in your bedtime ritual, instead thinking about the mysterious Dr. Mccoy, the infamous Dr. McCoy.

The Dr. McCoy that made nurses cry every so often from his outbursts – never violent but fierce, always due to the protectiveness he had for his patients. The Dr. McCoy who was a doctor before he even became a cadet, with enough knowledge to fill a few books. The Dr. McCoy who had smirked at you with those dark and deep eyes, brown and full with some kind of life as he... Well, teased, southern accent lilting just a bit, maybe? That Dr. McCoy? The Dr. McCoy who saved lives and healed and always, always, always fought for more healthcare, for more hypos, for more protections for the nurses who somehow, even in the 24th century, managed to get pushed to the wayside?

When you stepped in the shower, it took a second for your fingers to bang at the control panel, your legs held together, and with a quick setting manipulation the steam quickly cleared, the water’s temperature dropping to ice cold. You were in, and you were out, but by the time you had dressed and brushed your teeth color had crept on your cheeks again.

All you could see were those eyes.

“Fuck.”

-

“Ah, Nurse Y/L/N,” the doctor said, eyes barely looking up from the singed hands of the red-shirt in front of him. “I need dermatological regen started here and a full body scan initiated on the biobed two over.”

Like nothing had even happened. Like your nightmare interaction two weeks ago hadn’t resulted in you unintentionally taking night shifts, resulting in a fucked up circadian rhythm and bags under your eyes, not to mention hours bored out of your skull.

Christine wasn’t here, and for once you were grateful. The last thing you needed was her eyes on you as you maneuvered around the doctor for a new shift while exhaustion lingered in the back of your mind. But it also meant that there was no one to offer a united front. Just you.

“Nurse Y/L/N?”

And you just spent the past minute mulling all of that in your mind. Making yourself look like a dumbass in front of the doc and his patient. The patient hadn’t noticed, staring at his own hands in horror, but Dr. McCoy seemed like he was regretting letting you back on to handle days.

Shit.

“You got it, doc,” you managed with a kind smile at the engineer, whose face you could now see as you walked past him toward the wall. Your hands expertly manipulated to storage system, and with the tricorder kept at your waist you gathered the necessities.

The great thing – you were damn good at what you did. Especially when you could focus on it. Your face was bright, uniform neat (until it wasn’t due to fluids of some kind), and your hands were steady. And no complicated patients came in that day, especially since no away missions were sent out and nothing malfunctioned horribly deep within the ship’s bowels.

And yet, no matter what you did, no matter how competent you showed you were, no matter how many laughs or smiles or even nods from the most stubborn of usual patients? Eyes were on you. Dark, deep eyes. The whole day, no matter where you went, a furrowed brow and focused tailed you, watching your interactions.

All in all, a good day. A great day, even, as you injected your last hypo and the padd reported a normal set of vitals, no reaction to the medication after fifteen minutes.

The shift was over, now. It was a good shift, one that required no personal defense. You gave report to the next nurse, said goodbye to the others on-duty. Your jacket put on, your hair pulled down and back up after the frizz of the day had ruined it. Nothing really to note.

So why did the doctor not let you out of his sight?

The rest of the week, the same routine. The flow you had gotten into on alpha shifts returned, and your week of off nights was left behind in favor of much better mornings. Back on track, the same old, same old. And yet with every shift there was a new weight, those eyes on you. It felt like if he wasn’t tending to a patient, and he wasn’t in his office in the back of the bay, he was watching you. Critical of every injection and admission. You were starting to go a little crazy with it, your mind going a million miles an hour, second guessing the simplest stuff just so you wouldn’t fuck up in front of the CMO.

But after a while, the fear of failure turned into anger.

What right did the doctor have to analyze like that? You were a great nurse! You treated your patients and coworkers fairly, with respect and compassion. What was there to complain about? You knew your shit, and here was McCoy, looking like the Enterprise regretted your assignment there in the first place. By the end of the week, that anger had built up, and once the weekend rolled around, and your two off days in a row loomed, you decided you were done.

“Is there something on my uniform, Dr. McCoy?” You asked, terse as you organized the vaccine cart, the new year meaning new yearly injections to follow up on.

His fingers had been steadily scrolling through files of crew members, but their nimble work paused at your question. His eyes had taken a break from tearing you apart, but now they were focused on you once again.

“Excuse me, Nurse Y/L/N?” He asked, his face looking almost pinched.

“I was just wondering if there was something on my uniform. Or in my teeth, perhaps. Something in my hair, maybe, too.” Your hands kept chugging along, automatically rearranging the colored liquids, but there was a tightness you couldn’t shake, a tension.

“Something in your hair?” The doctor repeated, and at his tone, somewhat amused, you finally turned to face him, your brow raised in a mimic of his.

“Well, there’s gotta be something, considering that you haven’t gone five minutes without staring at me like I’m your least favorite sight in the world. So, what is it? Uniform out of regs? Did I administer a medication wrong? Did a patient complain?”

At that point, the amusement had turned to indignation, maybe even anger. His jaw was clenched, and the padd in his hands had been abandoned on the desk in favor of crossed arms over his chest.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, nurse,” he ground out, eyes flicking around the med bay. But there was no one to look at. No one to distract or overhear.

You couldn’t help your laugh. “Oh, I think you do,” you snapped, and almost mocking him, your arms crossed as well, a hip cocked, your eyes like daggers. “Ever since I came back on alpha shift, you’ve been doing all you can to catch me in a fuck-up. Well, it’s not happening! I’m damn good at what I do, and no amount of posturing, even from the CMO, would ever change that!”

His scoff was hard, arms uncrossing so a hand could pull through his hair in disbelief. “darlin’,” he said, slowly, as if you were dense, “There’s no posturing going on. Your abilities aren’t being doubted. Hell, I don’t even know your first name. Whatever story you’ve got going on in your head? It’s a story!”

His frustration showed through his accent, a southern drawl that got thicker as his sentences rambled on. But that couldn’t distract you from calling him out on his bullshit, no matter his position.

“I’m not senile,” you huffed, eyes rolling hard, and your steps closer were unconscious, crowding him against the desk he was leaning on now. “And I’m definitely not blind. So, tell me what your problem is with me, so I can go back to focusing on my job, and you can go back to focusing on yours!”

“There’s no damn problem!” His voice was almost a yell now, but you had no fear, and you sure as hell weren’t backing down. “It’s nothing. Hell, there isn’t anything to be nothing.”

And then it clicked, it clicked, as you stared into brown eyes that wavered for a second, that scanned you top to bottom in a split second. A break, a tell, whatever it was, the pieces were put together, and you stood tall, not letting his height on you intimidate.

“You overheard me and Christine, didn’t you?” It was low. “Is that what it is?”

“Overheard.” The clench in his jaw hadn’t loosened, but you watched that brow tick upwards again, his arms uncrossing so his hands could rest on the desk.

“When you walked in on us, last week,” you clarified. “You overheard our game.”

The anger was gone now. Now that everything had slotted into place, you weren’t angry. A little bit embarrassed maybe, but not angry. Frustration felt like it was leaking out of you, but the tension wasn’t gone. The standoff wasn’t broken. And after all of what, you had just yelled at your superior officer.

“Dr. McCoy,” you started, uncrossing your arms, and holding them up to offer a truce. “I apologize. For yelling. That… well, it shouldn’t have been my first move. But. I can explain, if you want me to.”

There was no verbal reply, but his exasperation came through with a huff, and he simply lifted a hand, gesturing for you to go on.

“It’s just a game we’ve played since the academy. It was inappropriate to play while Christine was on shift. I apologize for that as well,” you told him pulling back to glance once more at the sliding doors, which mercifully stayed closed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Just a game,” he repeated, and at first you didn’t catch the shift in his tone. Didn’t connect it with the glance toward the doors, or the way he stood from the desk, so that you were almost close enough to brush against him. “Just a game… using the names of your captain, commander, and chief medical officer?”

“Yes,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m sorry for that, as well, that definitely won’t be happening again.”

“A game talkin’ about who you’d rather have in your bed.”

Your eyes shot back to him, color flooding your cheeks.

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

“Well, that’s the game, isn’t it?” He said with a shrug, and as he leaned forward you could feel your breath catch in your throat, looking up into a face you imagined in your own quarters in the dead of night, as you let steaming water hit your skin. His jaw wasn’t clenched anymore, and his voice was a low rumble.

It wasn’t a threat. But it gave you goosebumps all the same, that the bass of his words, and you managed to nod, swallowing even as you kept your chin lifted.

“That’s the game. Is there a problem?”

And God, there was that smirk. Warm like whisky, it made your hands clench, your legs shift as that warmth rushed through you.

“No problem at all,” he hummed, and as he leaned close those lips brushed past your cheek. You could smell his cologne now, spice flooding your nose, the antiseptic of the day fading away. The chill in the air that always seemed to linger was gone, nothing but heat on your mind. Right in your ear you heard him, after a low chuckle that made you want to scream, beg him to get on with it. “I guess I’ve just been wondering what you would’ve answered, had I not… interrupted.”

Lunchtimes were surely coming to an end. Any second a patient could come in, could see the both of you crowded against the desk and know exactly why the whole place felt like an oven. But something possessed you, then, to bring one of your hands to his shoulder, the other to his hip, and lean just as close, almost pushing up on your toes to whisper right back.

“Give you one guess.”

Matches. That’s what that kiss felt like, a box of matches all lighting at once – the spark and the flash and explosion of heat as Dr. McCoy pulled back just enough to press his lips against yours. Nothing gentle, nothing kind, just a ferocity that made you moan against his mouth. His hands, broad and hot, began to roam on your back, settling just enough to pull you ever closer, so that your bodies were flush against each other. Your hand ended up twisted in his hair, the other fisted in his shirt. And just like matches, it was the start of a fire, one that had you both stumbling towards his office, the door sliding behind you with a quiet hiss.

“You were teasing me,” he ground out, directing you between kisses until the back of your thighs were against his desk. His hands gripped you then, around the waist, lifting you so you could sit. “And you didn’t even know it. Your voice over and over in my head, thinking about how it’d sound with my name.”  

“So, you stare at my ass instead of asking me, hmm? What a southern gentleman,” you laughed, and for that you got teeth against your neck, a hand shoving your skirt up. The tips of his fingers seemed to skate over your skin, tickling your inner thigh. But those slow circles never quite got where you wanted, just left burning trails in their wake. “Talk about teasing.”

“At’s what you get for having a smart mouth,” he chuckled, face still against your neck. But soon he was back to kissing you, making your head spin.

“That I know how to use,” you shot back, once again between presses of lips and gasps of air. “I’m – I’m not just a pretty face.”

“Never said you were,” he purred, and this time both hands lifted your skirt high, reaching for the panties that did a poor job of hiding anything. “But why don’t you let me use my mouth first?”

“What an offer.” One you certainly wouldn’t refuse, especially since he looked hungry for it, for you.

There was a brief moment’s hesitation, his finger curled around the elastic and so close to ripping them off. But while his body was begging for it, his pants more than a little tight, his eyes met yours.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, his tongue running along his lips as he got to his knees.

Your gaze didn’t waver, a grin coming over you. “That’s a fucking yes, sir.”

His grin matched yours, sharp and wily as he rid you of your underwear, hands on your knees so he could pull them apart. You were bare to the cool air, and your teeth caught your lower lip as he leaned forward with a hot gasp on your inner thigh.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

The first thing you felt was the swipe of his tongue, a furious push against where you were wettest. A taste, almost, before he licked a line through your folds until his mouth enveloped your clit. You were swollen, desperate for it, and your gasp was thick as fingers once again tangled in his hair. If you said anything, it was a “please,” a “yes,” a “god, right there” as he worked.

He took you apart with his mouth, no hesitation as his tongue worked you over, swirling around your clit as a finger began to tease your entrance. It was with a gasp you came, his hand spreading you open with two fingers inside of you, and when you were able to see straight you saw that grin again, his chin wet, his lips red.

“Holy shit, Doc,” you huffed, your hand falling from his hair to his chin, thumb swiping across the mess and bringing it up to your mouth so you could get a taste of yourself. He did you one better, leaning forward to kiss you again, and the taste of him and you made you smile.

“Leonard.”

“Leonard,” you repeated, and when you pulled back his smile was softer. Almost… vulnerable. “Suits you.”

“Well, I hope so,” he laughed. “It is my name.”

“And it’s my turn,” you pointed out, reaching for his waistband. “I think you should move to the chair.”

[yeetingmyfeeling]

Run, Run, Run!

Chapter Four

It had been a month since Brian’s arrival, and he was really starting to settle in with the pack. They were all, mostly, friendly and accepting. They treat him like a real living thing, not an object. That was a nice, fresh change. 

Evan had gone through the trouble of buying Brian a phone and laptop, of which he couldn't be more grateful for. He brought up the idea of going out and getting a job, everyone seemed to think it was better for him to stay inside.

This made Brian slightly annoyed, but he understood where they were coming from. He just wished there was a way he could contribute more. He did his fair share of chores, sometimes stealing others. A part of this was also because he was a little bored.

He currently sat on his laptop in his room, just perched up on his bed. It was before noon, and he woke up not long ago. From what he could smell, most people were out today. Jon and Brock are out every weekday due to being teachers, same with Jarren and Tyler. Though they both would occasionally get days off during the week. Everyone else's schedules would change every few weeks. Evan was home most days, but would go to his studio three days a week at minimum.

Brian let out a yawn as he just scrolled mindlessly. He was looking through the news, but soon got bored of that. He set up a few social media accounts, with the help of Ryan, and was now looking on twitter. As he didn’t have many followers or anything of the sort, it was quite boring.

Being as bored as he was, he decided to get out of bed. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, having only slept in a shirt and boxers. He brushed a hand through his bed hair then exited his room. 

He walked down to the kitchen, not running into anyone. That was, until he was in the kitchen. Tyler stood there, a cup of coffee in his hands, looking half asleep. He stood up straighter when he heard someone enter, looking over at Brian.

Brian smiled shyly. He still felt a little uncomfortable around the tall alpha. “Relax, I’m not going to spill any coffee. As long as you promise to not spill yours on me.” Brian saw a small smile on Tyler’s face. He walked over to the machine, beginning to make his own coffee.

Feeling eyes on him, he raised an eyebrow at the alpha. Tyler shrugged, acting innocent. Brian narrowed his eyes, but turned back to his coffee making. Truth be told, Tyler was once again admiring the Irishman's ass.

They heard someone else enter the room, and they both looked up. It was David, looking even more tired than the other two combined.  He walked over, stealing Brian’s freshly made coffee, ignoring his protests, and taking several large gulps.

“Shit that’s hot,” David mumbled, pulling the cup away and putting it down. Brian frowned, starting to make another coffee. “Thank’s Bri.”

“You’re welcome, ass,” Brian grumbled. “Have a big night or something?”

“Yeah, stayed pretty late at the restaurant,” David’s accent was thick and heavy as he was so tired. Brian’s was much the same, but David just had a deeper voice. “Some dumbass fucked up, so we had to do a bunch of shit. We lost a lot of meat.”

“That’s no good,” Brian frowned at the other, now a little more forgiving over the coffee stealing. He looked up at the taller and couldn’t help but smile. David was clearly very tired, his eyes still half shut. His hair was a mess, ahd his clothes were very disheveled. He had some stubble on his face that just made everything better.

“Wait,” Tyler interrupted. He was silent during the two Irishmen’s conversation, but felt jealousy in his gut when he saw that smile Brian gave David. “Bri?”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” David rubbed an eye. He lifted his drink up, blowing on it, then taking a sip. “Sorry.”

“I-I didn’t mind!” Brian interjected quickly. He had finished making his coffee, and shot a glare to the door. If anyone else came in and stole another coffee from him, he was going to riot. 

“Well good,” As David said this, he ruffled Brian’s hair. Brian felt his cheeks burn, and looked down at the coffee in his hand. “What about you Tyler? You look real tired.” 

Tyler glared at David’s hand in Brian’s hair. Why he felt this way, he doesn’t know. He does know, he doesn’t like it. “Just a shitty sleep,” Tyler grumbled. He quickly finished the rest of his drink then started walking away.

“Tyler! Are you alright?” Brain had called out to the alpha, and the alpha couldn’t resist those diamond blue eyes full of concern.

“I’m fine, Bri,” He just wanted to try out the nickname. It was nice, but the omega deserved better. “I’m gonna go play some games, if anyone needs me.”

Brian watched as Tyler left, frowning more. Though, upon the alpha also using that nickname, his face heated up more. He shook his head. Brian blew on his coffee then brought it to his lips, taking a long sip.

He looked over at the beta next to him, who looked like he was about to fall asleep in his coffee. Brian suppressed a laugh.

~~~~~

A few people ended up being home before late afternoon, and Brian was now helping Ryan and John in the kitchen. They were making dinner, and upon Ryan’s mates request, it was spaghetti and meatballs.

Brian and John were currently in charge of rolling the meatballs while Ryan did literally everything else. They offered to do more help, but Ryan was determined. Music was playing softly in the background, playing some classic old rock.

“So, Brian,” John turned to the Irishman. “You’re enjoying it here so far?”

“Mhm!” Brian nodded his head. “You’re all so nice, how couldn’t I be comfortable?”

“Even with angry alpha storming around all the time?” John joked. He pouted as he messed up on a meatball, having to redo it.

“I’m sure it’s that Kelly,” Ryan joins in on the teasing. “Getting him all riled up after a long day,” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“First of all- ew,” John shook his head in disgust. “Apparently he debunked that, David said he’s not interested in her in that way.”

“Oh,” Ryan nods his head slowly. A smirk slips on to his features. “So, someone else could have a chance with him? Say, our own little omega?” He winks at Brian, who flushes and starts stuttering.

John laughed, messing up yet another meatball. He didn’t care. “Brian’s face!” He calmed down, wheezing now and again. “Come on dude, have you seen those looks he’s been giving you?”

“He wants to mount you.”

“Ryan!” Brian had his face hid in his hands, feeling it burning. Even his ears were burning. He heard cackling from the other two. “Its- no.. what?” Brian shook his head, trying to focus back on the meatballs. “Tyler still doesn’t like me.”

“Doubt,” Ryan mutters.

After John calmed down from the cackling, he spoke up. “Ryan, you and Luke fuck like rabbits. I don’t know how he keeps up- that’s not my point. I mean, Ryan knows when someone wants to fuck someone.”

Ryan smirks cockily. “Damn right we do,” He turns to Brian, pointing a spoon in his face. “That alpha wants you.”

“What alpha wants Brian?” Luke walked into the kitchen. He stepped behind Ryan, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck. “Mm, smells good.”

“You’re home early,” Ryan spun around in his boyfriend's arms. He leaned up a bit, pecking Luke’s lips. “Tyler wants to mount Brian.”

“Yeah but, David also wants to mount Brian,” Scotty appeared, out of seemingly thin air. He stuck his finger into Ryan’s sauce, only to be slapped with a spoon. He whined, rubbing his hand as he sucked the sauce off his finger. “When I was working with him- He compared a fish’s scales to Brian’s eyes.”

“This is so gay,” John snorted. “Brian has both an alpha, and a beta after him. What will he do?”

“Die,” Brian groaned out, his face bright red. The four around him laughed. “I’m sure you guys are just imagining things.”

“No I agree, Tyler definitely wants to mount you,” Luke agrees with his boyfriend. Luke was Evan’s third. “I was hanging out with the dude the other day, and seemed so sexually frustrated. Then started talking about an auburn wolf that sparkles.”

Brian focused on his meatballs, not the blush on his cheeks. He pushed the others' words out of his head, not believing them. The attention, if it was real, was nice. Yet, he just didn’t know how to feel. Also, two guys!? Two, very attractive, tall, guys.

~~~~~

Everyone was home for dinner tonight, a fact which made Ryan more nervous. Though, he was mainly focusing on pleasing his mate. It came around to dinner, and the two who were helping earlier, were still helping.

John was going around, setting up the table. He was grumbling as he did so, complaining that this felt just like work. Ryan threatened to pour hot sauce in his eyes. Brian was subjected to going and telling everyone dinner was about to be served.

Half of the group were in the living room, so he told all of them. They smiled and gave him thanks before heading to the dining room. A few more were in the games room, and he told them. They said they were just going to finish their game. Two more people. Brain gulped. David and Tyler.

After the interaction with them in the kitchen, he felt nervous. Then the teasing from John, Scotty, Ryan and Luke just made him more paranoid. Everyone had little decorations on their doors, so it was pretty easy to find the rooms. He went to David first, knowing the beta doesn’t have a temper.

The decoration outside David’s room made Brian laugh. It was a large rainbow, and instead of gold pots at the ends, it was potatoes. It had ‘David’ in scribble writing across the rainbow. Brian knocked on the door softly.

“Gimme a sec!” Was heard through the door. Brian knew he could just tell him what he came to say, but he could hear the beta rushing around his room to get to the door. The door opened and David stood there with a wide grin, his hair was wet, some droplets dripping down his face. “What’s up Bri?”

“Dinners ready,” Was Brian’s quiet answer. His eyes flickered up to David’s, then he looked away shyly. “Better get down there soon before Ryan starts going all were-rabbit.”

“Were-rabbit?” David questioned, tilting his head as he tried not to laugh.

“The Wallace and Gromit movie,” Brian rubbed the back of his neck. “They compared Ryan to a rabbit, and I thought of that,” David burst out laughing. He told the omega he’d be down after he dried his hair, so Brian went to tell Tyler. 

He was a little more nervous to speak to the alpha, which was to be expected. The decoration on Tyler’s door confused him slightly, but like David’s, made him laugh. It was a pig in an old farm truck, driving. He wore a crown and a fluffy coat. The side of the truck had ‘Wildcat’. Below that, it said ‘Piss off, it’s Tyler’. Brian snorted. He knocked on the door.

The door opened quickly, surprising Brian. There stood Tyler, looking only mildly annoyed. He was shirtless, wearing only sweatpants. He was sweating, and panting, and, Brian had to look away quickly. He stared at the hardwood floor beneath his shoes. 

“What?” Tyler grunted out. “I was in the middle of doing weights. Can I do anything for you?” Tyler’s smell started to hit Brian’s nose and he had to straighten out his mind.

He cleared his throat harshly and looked up at Tyler. He had to count in his head. He was on suppressants, but that doesn’t mean his heat won’t come. Maybe his heat was coming up and that’s why this sweaty alpha was in front of him. Brian knew if he dared look at the sweatpants, he would most definitely send himself into a heat. 

“It’s dinner time,” Brian finally spoke. Tyler raised an eyebrow at him. Brian rolled his eyes. “Come down for dinner, Ty. Before Ryan has our asses.”

“Ty?” Tyler mumbled. No one had ever really bothered giving Tyler a nickname, maybe that chick from the mechanic. Brian made it sound less filthy though. He was sure the omega could make it the good kind of filthy. Tyler had to take a step back. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just- be down in a bit,” Then he shut the door.

Brian frowned at the closed the door. That was a bit rude. He huffed but went back downstairs to the kitchen. Ryan then ordered him and John to get everyone drinks, to which they both groaned.

So they went to the dining room. Everyone was there except David and Tyler, but Brian knew that. So they went through and asked what everyone wanted. Evan wanted Strawberry lemonade, Jon tried to ask for a milkshake but Brian threatened to just give him milk and ice cream in a wine glass, so he went with a strawberry lemonade as well.

Brock wanted mineral water, John gagged, Anthony wanted a beer, Scotty and Marcel wanted the same, Luke wanted whiskey, Ryan yelled at him from the kitchen so he changed it to a beer, and Jarren wanted a lemonade with three ice cubes. John could have hit him.

So John and Brian went back to the kitchen to get everyone's drinks. Brian ran into David along the way, who asked for a beer. Running into Tyler, he asked for the same. Brian called everyone alcoholics, then decided he would also have a beer.

“Not like they have beer all the time,” John said as he pulled beers out of the drinks fridge and handed them to Brian, who put them on the counter behind him. “We haven’t drunk in a while, and they aren’t going to get drunk. So it’s fine.”

“I stand by everyone being alcoholics,” Brian said as he looked at the seven beers on the counter. They got the other drinks ready, John was having a lemonade and Ryan was having mineral water.

They took the drinks out in turns to put on the table where everyone was sitting. This is when Brian saw that somehow, he was stuck in between David and Tyler. Brian internally groaned, it was going to be a long dinner. 

Soon enough, Ryan had finished the meal and had plated everything up. So the three spent time taking the plates out to everyone. Apparently Ryan portioned everything for specific people. Say, most of the alphas dishes were bigger than the omegas. Brian thought that was smart.

Once the food was out, and everyone was seated. They were finally ready to start eating. Evan made a joke about saying grace, to which Jon said he would burn up on the spot if they did. Then David said Ryan should look about working as a chef. Ryan said he rather look at animal guts than deal with angry customers, which he still does but not like at restaurants. Fair. 

[elaz-ivero]

Celestial Bodies- Television Script // E1- Pilot

"If your afraid of these hills, of the pastures past the signs, of the people here who are just living their lives then your not going to make it out of here alive" -

Category - Young Adult

Genre- Coming of Age/ Thriller

Synopsis- Radon Springs, a small town tourist hotspot where the Bluepark radioactive disaster is memorialised in printed t-shirts, keychains and commemorative mugs. Within this town five teenagers, from social butterflies to newcomers unaccepting of the small-town traditions to investigators who learn of things they’d rather not know, find themselves in a religious once dead prophecy on top of the usual teen drama, romance and occasional death.

Tone- Dreamy, dark, nostalgic.

Inspo- Sabrina the Teenage Witch, The Devil All the Time, I'm not okay with this, End of the F***ing world.

Celestial bodies is a project that I've started so that one day I can perfect it and add it to my end of year portfolio, since it's my first television script it's a bit rough and more literary than normal following my roots as a poetic writer. I use Writerduet.com for drafts of my scripts and celtx.com as a space for collaborative work and the 'rough' drafts sits around 2,223 words long the length of a flash fiction story. Following an already insane idea, each episode follows a specific colour scheme with the opening pilot being scarlet; danger, action, consequences.

The pilot of Celestial Bodies follows a non-conventional three-act structure to reflect the instability of the setting, in a place where radiation runs rampant and affects the technological efficiency of cameras, compasses, radios and computers of course it'd affect the filming process in a meta-way. I've always imagined Celestial Bodies being shot on disposable camera's at times and being overlayed with bleeding and colour replacement effects to make the film feel as though it is deteriorating as one watches which helps reflect the breaking mental stability of the opening episodes main character.

ACT ONE

The episode begins with a recording of an old documentary, the screen flickering and fading in and out of focus the establishing shots of the town interwoven with a male voiceover telling the history of RadonSprings and the infamous radioactive disaster hidden in its memory. I tend to stray away from prefactory information in introductions, however, I don't believe this choice takes away from the intrigue especially since almost everything else is shown to the audience through background visuals/ allusions in speech.

After this recording dies down, the voice mellowing to a melodramatic drum the shot changes to an establishing shot and we briefly meet our first character.

Dallas is the eldest daughter to her first-generation immigrant parents who've moved away from the illustrious big city to focus on whats important, family, connection and affordable house prices. Dallas is calm, collected, well-reasoned and willing to start over in a new town, make friends three years older than her and find herself again or under the worst circumstances hide away again and retreat into a formulated identity. We meet Dallas as she reckons with her parent's decision and when a stranger appears at their house at the end of the episode desperately reaching out to her mother and claiming to know her Dallas is left alone, her parents fleeing forgetting to pack her and her brothers. Left in a parental position and lost Dallas is desperate to find people her age whom she can connect with.

ACT TWO

We take a break from Dallas to establish Gecko, a young boy coddled by his mother for years who is about to do the unthinkable.

We meet Gecko briefly in the present day, wearing bright tight-fitting clothing, his hair recently dyed, movements pre-planned and anxious a brief cutaway to a few nights prior shows him in the form he's used to, 20 years old and still wearing hand-me-downs from his grand-father. He's apart of an average radioactive family, a mother faking her therapy degree and psycho-analysing her own son, a displaced father, drop-out older brother and him; a trigger-happy straight-A son still reckoning with his own gender and sexuality and unable to get higher-paid work because of his disability. The scene is slow but punctual with an intruder entering Gecko's house and threatening to attack his mother, Gecko does the only thing he can think to do, he grabs his absent fathers hunting gun and shoots one lethal shot into the burglar's back.

His mother takes care of it, burying the man in her tulip garden she reasons with him that this won't be the end for him and that if he just pretends everything's normal...no...everythings perfect it'll be fine. People die of gradual radiation poisoning all the time, people disappear all the time.

ACT THREE

Act three is an amalgamation of the aftermath of all these events, Gecko reinvents himself becomes a walking performance and summer school starts, all his old friends are back in town. Lexa owns a motorcycle, Scottie's picked up some work, Bea's preparing for the tourist season, each of them unaware of the changes that have been made to this small town.

Before I start Episode Two, I'm planning on going back through this script and adjusting some dialogue and lengthening some scenes so they feel more natural.

But that's Scarlet Fever! I love the vibes of this episode and how eratic it is in its unnatural delivery. My goal for this project isn't to complete drafting the two seasons I've planned but to just write a script that isn't shit. I'm loving this project so far and the characters are some of my favourite, so refined and mature!

Till next time

-E

[ilovejevsjeans]

How another Aussie champion helped Ricciardo recover from horror start with Renault

As beginnings go, it was less than auspicious. Mere seconds into the first race of his high-profile Formula One move to Renault, Daniel Ricciardo's 2019 Australian Grand Prix disintegrated into a shower of broken carbon fibre, the front wing of his car smashed to smithereens after he ran off the side of the Albert Park circuit and clipped a trackside ditch.

Things didn't get a lot better in the early races of 2019 for Ricciardo who, so accustomed to fighting at the front with his former team, had to sate his hunger with occasional crumbs dropped by the Mercedes, Ferrari and Red Bull outfits that annexed the available podium places. Top-10 qualifying efforts were rare, decent race finishes largely out of reach. He couldn't recapture the feeling on the brakes in his new Renault that had made audacious, last-gasp passes his trademark at Red Bull, and he knew he was over-driving to make up for the performance of his car and his own frustrations, determination to fix one mistake inevitably leading only to another.

Ricciardo's signature smile was still there, but those who know him best could see the grin's wattage was dimmed. Ricciardo knew something needed to change – and another high-profile Australian athlete unexpectedly provided the impetus.

"It was April last year, the season hadn't been going all that well for me, and I was spending some time with [Australian snowboarder] Scotty James," Ricciardo tells The Age.

"Scotty's a good friend. He writes a daily journal, and he was telling me about how much it helped him focus on his goals, what he wanted to achieve, and how regularly writing things down for yourself forces you to be honest and accountable.

"I started one myself to see if it would make a difference, and it definitely has. I'm being honest with myself and it's for my thoughts and my eyes only, and it's something I look back on. It could be something as simple as 'how did I feel today?', 'how did I feel how I felt about that race?' and so on, and then going back and trying to understand why.

"It's just me and my thoughts, and it has definitely given me some clarity. I never sit down with a plan of what to write, but in the writing process you answer questions you may have about something, and that's really useful for me."

Ricciardo's season eventually recovered to some degree from its stuttering start, and while ninth place in the championship didn't get his pulse racing after a pair of top-three finishes with Red Bull in 2014 and 2016, he comprehensively out-performed the driver in the sister Renault, German Nico Hulkenberg, and achieved the team's best result with a storming drive to fourth in Italy in September.

A strong finish to the year gave the 30-year-old reason to be optimistic about the 2020 campaign set to start in Melbourne next weekend, but it's a season he realises comes with questions he can, so far, only take an educated guess at answering.

Ricciardo's knowns for 2020 are few, yet indisputable. One, he's in the second and final year of a deal with Renault that hasn't yet delivered on its considerable promise. And two, there's little chance the West Australian will see the view from any step of a Formula One podium given drivers from Mercedes, Red Bull and Ferrari have annexed the top three positions in all but six races over the past four years.

Can Renault show enough progress that he'd consider re-signing? Might Mercedes or Ferrari, both of whom have driver vacancies next year, remember Ricciardo's recent past in a race-winning team and come calling? And what of 2021, where a significant shake-up of F1's rulebook could completely change the sport's pecking order, as Ricciardo discovered the hard way the last time the regulations were rebooted seven years ago?

"This year definitely carries more weight than most," Ricciardo admits.

"The chaos that surrounded my move from Red Bull to Renault, I don't expect it to be anything like that. But there's a lot happening. I'm 30, so whatever I do, it's a case of 'how many more contracts will I sign?'

"The easiest decision would be that if my year is going well [at Renault], then I'd feel like we were only going to get better and I wouldn't even think about the what-ifs or maybes elsewhere. Even though next year is going to be a new car, I think if we were able to make some big gains this year with Renault, that would give me enough confidence that whatever happens in the future would be good, but you never know how these things will play out.

"I certainly see myself in the sport for at least five more years, but every year I'm one step closer to when my career might end. You're not thinking like a 20-year-old anymore."

While Renault's preference is to retain their combination of an established race-winner in Ricciardo and French youngster Esteban Ocon for the first season of F1's rule reset, chances to drive for Mercedes, the dominant team of the past six seasons, and Ferrari, still the sport's biggest name despite not winning a drivers' title since 2007, are rare.

When the lights go out at Albert Park, Charles Leclerc will be the only driver among the sport's two biggest teams to have a contract beyond this year, the 22-year-old Monegasque inking a deal with Ferrari until 2024.

Reigning world champion Lewis Hamilton's retention by Mercedes appears a formality, but the futures of 2019 Australian Grand Prix winner Valtteri Bottas (Mercedes) and four-time world champion Sebastian Vettel (Ferrari) are murkier, particularly with Ferrari banking its future on Leclerc with such a long-term investment.

Ricciardo openly expresses his admiration for what Mercedes, who won a record sixth consecutive constructors' championship last season, have achieved since the advent of the sport's V6 turbo hybrid engine era in 2014, which brought down the curtain on a reign of dominance by a Vettel-led Red Bull as Ricciardo joined the team that same season.

Mercedes debuted a revolutionary dual-axis steering (DAS) system at February's first pre-season test in Barcelona, a hydraulically powered innovation that allows their drivers to adjust the angle of the front wheels to gain lap time by pushing or pulling the steering wheel while the car is in motion.

Rival outfits were blindsided by the DAS concept when it was unveiled, Renault's sporting director Alan Permane commenting the team was "wide-eyed" about something Mercedes admitted they had been hatching in secret for a year, but Ricciardo says Mercedes' relentless pursuit of progress should be lauded.

"Hats off to them because they have been dominant this whole turbo era, yet they are still the ones pushing everyone else," he says.

"They're not getting complacent, and I think that's why they've been so dominant. They're setting an example right now and as a competitor, I certainly respect that."

Further clouding any picture Ricciardo paints of what 2021 may look like are rule changes that will make the grid that appears for next year's race in Melbourne almost unrecognisable from next Sunday's starting line-up. The next generation of cars will feature significantly different bodywork and low-profile tyres on larger, 18-inch wheels, while a cost cap, set at US$175 million ($A263 million) per team per annum, will halve the budgets of the sport's biggest spenders at the flip of a calendar, creating, in theory, a more level playing field.

The sweeping changes have the potential to make more of an impact than the implementation of the current iteration of rules in 2014, which propelled Mercedes from the midfield to a team that has won more than 80 per cent of grands prix since.

Pre-season testing threw up enough clues to suggest Mercedes, who never really showed their true pace in Barcelona, may just demolish the field again from Melbourne onwards. Should that happen, and with little carryover between this year's rules and next, expect their rivals to switch their focus to 2021 early.

Driver market intrigue, short of Leclerc and Max Verstappen, who is contracted to Red Bull until 2023, will be the narrative of the season, and Ricciardo will be in the middle of it.

[heyitsjamsai]

What's your royalty AU about? I just now saw a little thing you drew for it~!

ohh I’m glad you asked actually! There isn’t much that i can say about it without really spoiling any ideas about it, but I’ll try to explain a few things!

There are three kingdoms: Allumer, Sottises, and Vol (all French words, given and explained to me by the very lovely @miss-oli​ !)

ABOUT ALLUMER:

Allumer is nicknamed the City of Riches or the City of Light. It is a very large and very, you guessed it, wealthy kingdom. Many people go there for a better life that can afford it since it is pretty expensive to live there, and many people visit just to get a look at the place and admire its beauty.

The kingdom is ruled by Prince Vanoss, as he’s known. The Allumer guard is quite large, and consists of most of the boys:

Brian (ofc) is a bowman, and teaches new and current guards everything he knows about it, and often trains with Brock and Nogla. He and Brock have a “secret thing” going on, though they were discovered once by Tyler in a weapon closet when Tyler was looking for a spare quiver.

Brock is a whole collection of professions. He is a swordsman, a bowman, and the parkour instructor! Though, once when he was training with a younger guard looking to become a swordsman, the younger slipped, Brock lost focus, and the guard nearly killed him! Luckily, Brock was able to jump back just enough for the blade to only cut him, resulting in a large scar painting itself onto Brock’s cheek, so nothing really bad came out of it, though the younger guard mostly avoided training with Brock after that even though Brock was completely fine with the accident.

Tyler is the Sword Master as the guys like to call him since he usually teaches sword skills, but occasionally tries out the bow (and can never hit the targets, so he gives up). He often trains with Nogla and yells at him whenever Nogla almost takes his head off with a loose sword, but still can’t help but have a high amount of fondness and respect for the man.

David is a bowman and swordsman, though he is more of the latter! he enjoys training with the other guys, but usually just ends up launching an arrow to the sky and causing the surrounding guard to scatter, or accidentally releases his sword mid-swing, causing the surrounding guard to scatter. Needless to say, if Nogla is in the training field, it is likely no one else is.

Anthony isn’t much of a guard, but he’ll go to fight if he is ever needed! He’s a swordsman that wields dual swords, but he is more of a blacksmith, and forges all of the weapons and armor for Evan’s army!

Scotty also isn’t a guard, but he isn’t a guard at all! He lives in Allumer, yes, but he doesn’t actually know really any of the other guys unless they came down to his shop to pick up an order, besides Anthony! Scott is a tailor, and usually creates all of the armor designs for Anthony, who then forges them, and Scott also creates all of the cloth clothes for the boys!

Smiity, ohhh hooo. Smitt is in charge of creating any and all of the explosives that Allumer has! His natural hair is snow white, but often appears grey or in some cases even black due to the gunpowder and such that he uses! He is also a bit of a swordsman, but usually just uses a dagger of some kind because carrying around a giant greatsword isn’t too ideal for him. He often goes to Sottises to get supplies that the kingdom is generous enough to offer!

Lui is a bowman, and a lookout. He stays on the castle walls as patrol and returns to Brian or Evan, whoever he comes across first, with any information that may be worth mentioning by the end of the day, or straight away, depending on the severity of it!!

ABOUT VOL:

Vol is nicknamed the City of Thieves or the City of Cutthroats. The kingdom is also large, but the clouds above seem to always cover the sun, making the place dark and gloomy, and overall just match the feeling there, which is of despair. Vol is ruled by Prince Delirious, as everyone calls him, and he is feared by all in his kingdom, other than his most trusted guard due to his psychotic demeanor, and tendency to call people upon him, and then that person suddenly disappearing, never to be seen again. 

Vol is a large kingdom, though most of the buildings there are crumbling and/or in ruin, so it’s a pretty ugly place. Most of the citizens there are unable to leave due to being unable to move anywhere else (most people there are very poor, and Sottises and Allumer are far too expensive for them), though the fortunate souls that have been able to leave have never been seen again, and no one there knows if that is a good or bad thing. 

The Vol guard consists of really everyone else:

Cartoonz or Luke is probably the most trusted out of everyone else in Vol by Delirious. He doesn’t wear a mask because he wants people to remember his face, he also sees it as a cowardly move in some cases to hide someones face, and he respects Delirious’ decision to do so. He wields a sword that expresses himself in the blade. 

Ohmwrecker/ Ohm or Ryan is second most trusted, and often carries out messages to the town, missions for Delirious, or just other small things. Ohm hides his face with a mouth mask just because he feels like it, and Toonz often gives him shit about it, but he never retaliates and just walks away. He hasn’t ever really said a word to anyone other than Delirious and Del alone, which made the other guys think that he was mute. He’s a swordsman that wields a cool-looking sword (if and when I post refs, I shall show you then!). He also wears long earrings that I think were a nice addition since he’s very agile and moves around a lot. 

Gorilla or Mark gets his name from the fact that he looks like he is the human embodiment of a literal tank. He wears a mask resembling an elephant, and it strikes fear in the hearts of the Vol citizens. He wields a battleaxe, and is always surprised by really anything that Squirrel does.

Squirrel or Joe is very unlike the other guards. Surprisingly, he isn’t dead. I say that because he had enough guts to sneak into Delirious’ castle, try to steal several jewels, and almost escaped with them, but Ohm caught him last second, and showed him to the cruel prince. Squirrel did not fight back, but also did not seem scared, not even when he knew what happened to people who did these kinds of things with Delirious as ruler… mayhaps i’ll make a comic bit out of this??

Marcel is a swordsman that wields a greatsword. Marcel isn’t nearly as cruel as the others, but still follows orders exactly as they’re put. He mostly patrols around the city and stops thieves when he can, earning the respect and appreciation from some of the citizens, but whenever he has to, then he won’t hesitate to stick a blade in someones stomach. 

Kryoz is the explosives expert of Vol! He only wields daggers as he doesn’t like, or care for, fighting, though whatever Delirious needs, he’ll be right on it. He often goes to Sottises for supplies and sometimes sees Smitty there, but never says anything to him, just carries on with why he’s in the city in the first place. He feels blessed sometimes to be in Sottises and has made acquaintances with a few of the guards and has caught glimpses of the princess, but overall loves the beauty of the city itself. 

There isn’t much to say about Sottises as it is really just a side kingdom in this comic, but really it is all of the Misfits (minus Smii7y and Kryoz), with Kings Fitz and Swagger, along with princess Toby as rulers! Its also a very pretty and wonderful kingdom nicknamed the City of Resources or the City of Life due to how much nature they’ve let grow, and how many resources they have!

So that’s really it, just some refs I guess without pictures!! sorry that its sooo much, but i just really like this AU so thank you for the ask, and if you actually read all of this!!

[bards-witcher]

Perdita - Chapter 5

As always I hope you enjoy :D

Previous  lll  Next

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It’s just before sunrise when he left the roof, despite having slept for most of the night he was even more tired than he had been when he’d first gotten onto the roof, the events during the night enough to shake him to his core.

Besides the strange appearance of Luke, he hadn’t heard a single thing except for the birds in the trees and the occasional car, unsure whether to feel somewhat relieved or even tenser at the lack of activity.

Once on the ground he quickly began maneuvering his way through the streets, not even sparing a thought on where he was going, just eager to get away from the place he’d probably spent far too long at, trusting that his legs would take him wherever he needed to be.

After Luke had vanished last night and the cold stone of the roof had made his legs numb, he had returned to his bag, hugging it tight to try and derive any sort of comfort from it as he forced himself to relive the worst moment of his life, trusting what Luke had told him even if it meant watching his death over and over until he fell into a restless sleep, no further in his understanding than he had been the night before.

No matter how many times he played the scene through, how painful it was, he could only see one thing, and it involved blood-splattered glass and the man who was larger than life crumple to the floor, dead.

He’s not sure what ‘Luke’ had meant asking him to rethink what he saw, or why his mind was suddenly creating cryptic messages, but it was the sound of a car horn that brought him out of his musings.

He went to gesture a sorry to the driver, but he found himself freezing when he saw who it was, Marcel and Scotty.

As with Tyler, he found himself only able to stare at them, as if trying to feel the other out, when in a split-second he made a dash for it, darting across the road and hopping over a parked car as he began running down the pavement.

He could hear their car chasing after him, deciding in a split second to change direction causing his old friends to fly by him, sprinting back down the road he’d come as the car’s wheels squealed against the road as they made a sharp turn to try and pursue him again.

The sound of a gun startled him a little, causing his step to falter a little before he regained his composure so when another gun sounded he was quick to duck his head and weave a little as he ran in an attempt to shield himself a little, running even faster even as he felt his lungs begin to burn a little for air.

He soon found himself in front of the local park, the front gate still locked due to the early hour, but he wasted no time as he began to climb up and over it and it was only when he was on the other side did he spare a look behind him.

As he spent a moment to catch his breath he saw that a second car had joined the chase but given the way Marcel was hanging out of the passenger window with a gun aimed towards it, he guessed G’s men were also on his tail.

With the sound of gunfire once again breaking the otherwise quiet dawn he quickly scrambled away from the gate and ran deeper into the park towards the small amount of tree cover before he heard one of the cars crash through the gate.

He spared a quick glance behind him, watching as Scotty drove their car into the others rear and steer it away from him, ignoring the question as to why they were helping him burned  through his mind as he climbed over the shorter fence surrounding the park before breaking into a run again, the sound of gunfire fading behind him.

Even as he felt a sense of relief at seemingly escaping both gangs he still didn’t stop running, his breathing becoming erratic from exertion until he came across a subway station, causing him to slow down a little as he ran down the stairs and jumped the gate before he went down to the closest platform, where he finally came to a stop.

His breathing was heavy as he spent a moment taking in his surroundings, only noting a couple of people who were quick to avert their eyes when he caught them staring, before he slowly walked towards the nearest bench, quickly collapsing on top of it as he tried to calm his racing heart and bring his breathing back under control.

In this moment of calm his thoughts went back to the chase, if he didn’t know any better he’d say that Scotty and Marcel had saved him from whatever goons G had sent to kill him, but then again they had found him first, so it was far more likely that they were eager to get rid of the competition before taking him down.

He pushed that thought aside, already thinking of how he’d need to be so much more aware now given that both BBS and G had found him twice in less than a day, giving another scan of his surroundings just to be sure, and whilst it was eerily quiet in the station, he didn’t feel that twinge of dread he normally did when danger was around.

It wasn’t much longer before a train pulled up, he didn’t know where it went nor did he care, he just boarded it and collapsed into the nearest chair, thankful for the empty cart as he felt all the energy drain out of him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the peace that was offered to him, the gentle swaying of the carriage almost sent him to sleep before he heard a voice beside him that sent ice through his veins.

“So, figure it out yet?” He opened his eyes to see ‘Luke’ sitting casually beside him, a playful smile on his face and he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of him.

“I’m really not in the mood for this right now so can you just say what you’re gonna say and go, I’ve got enough shit to deal with” He turned to face the man beside him, noting how his face turned into a playful pout at his comment.

“I thought you liked talkin’ to me” He couldn’t help but scoff at the statement, yes he did like talking with Luke, more than anything, but this Luke was nothing more than a poor carbon copy compared to the real thing “How about I give you another hint then?”

He rolled his eyes as he turned his head to look at Luke, the both of them looking at each other for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders, accepting whatever strange reality he was in “Go on then”

“Mind over body”

He furrowed his brows in confusion, turning to look outside the window as if it could give him the answer to whatever the hell his mind was telling him, but when that didn’t work he went to ask ‘Luke’ what on Earth he was talking about, only he was gone.

For a moment he stared at the space ‘Luke’ had been sitting in not a few seconds ago, but just let out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear his mind.

He had no idea how long he’d been on the train or where he was, but he got off of it at the next stop and when he made it back up to the street he could see the sky starting to lighten up the city, a quick cursory glance around him showed that apart from the odd early morning commuter, passing him by on the street, he was alone.

With a deep breath, he carried on walking until he reached the edge of town, ducking under the nearby bridge to try and get what little sleep he could.

*********

He was currently standing on some rooftops, no idea where he actually was but he had derived some sort of comfort of being able to watch the world around him from such a vantage point, he supposes that’s why he favored being support on the sniper than on the ground.

As the sun was almost set and night began to settle, in the distance he could barely make out the small warehouse where he used to live, where he knew his friends were currently residing in, the thought taking a bitter edge when he knew that only death awaited him on their door.

He wanted nothing more in this moment than to go to them, yes they were a gang, but they were practically family to him, family who he missed a bit more each day and the only people who would know what Lukes’ death truly meant to him, but all they’d be able to see was his bullet in Lukes’ head.

Even as the sky got darker and the sun finally dipped below the horizon, still he kept his vigilance, a part of him wondering if he’d ever be able to return there, even if he did manage to kill G.

With a sigh he moved to sit on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the side of the building as he thought back on Lukes’ words from earlier, still having no idea what was meant by mind over body.

It was with that thought that he felt a presence beside him, and sure enough he then felt a cool hand lay on top of his own, as if to give him comfort from the touch, but it only served to remind him that the person beside him wasn’t actually there, closing his eyes as he felt tears begin to sting at his eyes.

“It’s pretty up here, ain’t it?”

He simply hummed, not daring to open his eyes so that maybe if he kept ignoring the apparition beside him, that he’d go on his own and he’d finally be left to find some sort peace so that he could focus on his task of revenge.

“You’re so smart you know that?” He was somewhat stunned by the comment given that it had come from nowhere, opening his eyes so that he could turn to ‘Luke’ in confusion “When you were workin’ for G, I had some of the guys tailin’ you for weeks and you never even noticed. Now though, you always know when somethin’ ain’t quite right and it’s cause of that wonderful, beautiful mind you got”

He wasn’t too sure how to answer that, he could only keep staring at the other man whilst ‘Luke’ appeared to be waiting for him to say something, only he didn’t know what, and when nothing came out the older man simply sighed before he grabbed onto his leg and moved him so that they were now facing one another and straddling the edge of the building.

Cold hands clasped his face, and as much as he wanted to push the other man away and tell him to never come back, to finally leave him alone, even if he was a figment of his imagination, he simply couldn’t. Luke had always been his weakness and he knew he didn’t have the heart to send him away, even this poor copy of him, but decided that only this time he would indulge himself.

“When you were with G you had no control of your body right, only your mind,” He simply nodded, closing his eyes again as he let himself be comforted by the thumbs now rubbing his cheeks “Well your eyes are part of your body, aren’t they? Meanin’ maybe they were obscured an’ you didn’t always see what you thought you did”

His breathing stopped at the potential implications of the suggestion ‘Luke’ had proposed to him, opening his eyes to stare into the other man’s dark brown ones as his mind raced over those last few words.

“Your mind saw everythin’, Ryan, even if you don’t remember, you just need to think”

His heart was in his throat and beating a mile a minute, unable to focus on one thought before another took its place, but as before, no matter how many times he played that fateful scene over in his mind, all he ever saw was Lukes’ death.

“How ‘bout this then, you didn’t seem surprised when I said I had guys tailing you for weeks, cause deep down you knew,” It was then he noticed the intensity of ‘Luke’s’ gaze, as if he was pleading at him to at least try “Your mind will remember, you just need to think, Ryan”

He closed his eyes in an effort to focus, abandoning the scene with Luke to instead think through some of the last few other memories he had of when he was little more than a machine.

With a deep sigh, the scenes in his mind changed to a particularly sunny day that held no significance to him, simply at an old warehouse at the edge of town to pick up some weapons for a raid G had planned.

At first, he saw nothing, he simply replayed the same scene over and over again, however, despite seeing nothing new he couldn’t help but feel a small niggle in the back of his mind as if he was missing something.

It was the next time he played the scene that his eye caught sight of a figure across the street, only caught by the corner of his eye as he entered the warehouse and quickly recognized it to be Kryoz, hood up in the shadows as he watched him slip through the door and out of sight.

Then, the scenery changed, he was now with the two henchmen who he’d killed only a couple of days prior, they were supposed to collect some money from a guy who owed G, a man who one of the henchmen later killed because he couldn’t cough it up.

They’d found him at some run-down bar where without a word they had paid the manager to take the guy out back to deal with, no questions asked, and as before, the scene played over in his mind, he tried to see some of the patrons who were but blurred figures in his mind.

No matter how often he watched the scene he couldn’t pass through the barrier in his mind preventing him from seeing the full picture and he didn’t realize he’d begun to panic at the fact, his breath getting caught in his throat until he felt ‘Luke’s’ hands on his shoulders, giving them a squeeze and rubbing them slightly to try and comfort him, letting him know he had support there should he need it, even if this Luke wasn’t real.

With a shuddering breath the scene started again, he walked into the dimly lit bar, looking to the left where what had once been blurred figures now turned into both Brock and Brian, sitting at a booth with drinks in hand whilst their heads were low in deep discussion.

Even in his memories he wanted to call out to them but had no choice as instead his body turned towards the bar where he then saw Tyler, hunched over the bar as he nursed his own drink, noticing the odd glance aimed his way.

Finally, as they dragged the guy through the back door he looked back at the bar, now seeing that Brian was restraining Tyler in the corner of his eye until he passed through the door, not even able to come to terms with the memory before the scene changed again.

Next he was back on the rooftop, feeling the heat of the sun on the back of his neck, gun in hand as he waited for Lukes’ car to pull up, watching with bated breath as the scene played out in front of him, he remembered trying to fight tooth and nail to knock his aim, and he does so again now, feeling more confident in his capabilities, but still the bullet was shot, and he watched Luke collapse to the ground again.

He’s not sure how many times the scene played out, hell, he didn’t even know that he’d started crying until he felt ‘Lukes’ cold hand return to his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks and wiping his tears away.

At the touch he let out a shuddering sob, having watched Lukes’ death far too many times to pretend he was unaffected by the ordeal, not daring to open his eyes to see this version of Luke in front of him, sure that he’d lose whatever little control he had left over himself if he saw him.

In the next moment, he felt cold lips touch his forehead, reaching his hands forward to try and grab onto the man in front of him, but he was only met with empty air and he felt another sob wrack through him at the fact.

“You can do this, Ry, you’re so strong, baby, and you’re almost there” He then felt ‘Luke’ pull him close, hugging him almost, as if he was acting like his shield against the thoughts plaguing him before once again the scene started.

He was fighting just as aggressively as before, but he still felt his finger pull the trigger, forced to watch as the bullet chased towards its target, only this time there was startling clarity to it that all the other times had lacked.

As before he saw the bullet break through the car’s window, only there seemed to be a split second delay until he saw the blood spatter out of Luke before he fell to the floor and when he turned away, he swore he could see a flash of movement from Lukes’ hand, almost as if he had quickly grabbed something that was on the floor beside him.

He quickly opened his eyes then, taking in a deep breath as if it was his first one in weeks, his heart pumping a mile a minute in his chest as he realized what his mind had been telling him, that or it was playing some sort of cruel trick on him.

As he became more aware of his surroundings he noticed that ‘Luke’ was no longer in front of him, instead he was standing a bit further down the roof, looking at him as if he held the sun and stars, all while giving him a soft smile as his fingers twitched as if he was at war with himself on whether he should come closer or not.

Without a second thought, he hopped off of the roof’s edge and ran towards ‘Luke’, almost bouncing from excitement as he grabbed at the other man’s arms in an effort to ground himself, the realization that Luke could somehow be alive being all that he could comprehend.

“You’re alive, aren’t you? Well, the real Luke is, he faked his death didn’t he!” He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the other man, watching with glee as Luke just gave him a knowing smile and a small nod.

“You did good, Ry, also helped that you missed your shot” He was somewhat taken aback by the response as Luke simply chuckled at him.

“What?” It was the only response he could muster out, having expected some sage advice that his mind could conjure up, not some sort of insult to his abilities, something he’d once prided himself on.

Luke simply smiled at him, raising his hands to cup at his face and he couldn’t help but nuzzle a little into the hold, raising a hand to grab at one of his wrists in an attempt to keep the older man there, even if he knew he could disappear right now if he wanted “For the first time in your life, you missed, and I couldn’t be happier or more proud of you for it”

As before, he could only stare at the man with confusion about the entire situation, taking a moment to assess his currently racing thoughts, and it was only then that he truly felt the hands on his face and the racing pulse under his fingertips, felt their warmth seep into his skin and drive away the cold that had made its home there.

He kept staring into Lukes’ eyes as he adjusted his hand to properly grip at his wrist, feeling the other man’s pulse strong against his fingertips, leaving little doubt about the man in front of him.

“Luke?” He’s not surprised that his voice cracked, emotions thick in his throat as he felt tears threaten to fall again, feeling like nothing more than a lost child as the world he’d known changed around him again.

The older man gave him a soft smile, noting the tears he could already see begin to fall down his face as the grip on his face got tighter as if Luke couldn’t believe he was there either.

“Hey, Ryan”

He’d barely gotten the words out before they crashed into each other, arms curling tight around the other as if no force on earth could tear them apart, faces pressed into the other's neck as they let their tears flow freely.

All he could do was hold onto the other man, not daring to even loosen his exceedingly tight grip on him, too scared that he might suddenly disappear, the thought running through his mind that they were both safe and that he was finally home.

[trade-baby-blues]

In the Eggs Tonight

Pairing: Scotty x Reader

Word Count: 1938

Warnings: swearing, brief physical violence 

A/N: Based on this prompt: “Character A doesn’t feel the Christmas spirit but Character B, who lives above them, keeps playing Christmas carols really loud” requested by @littlecrazyfangirl-98​. Hopefully you like it!! I’m definitely not used to writing Scotty lol. The story is based on what supposedly used to be a Scottish tradition according to some less than reputable sources, so idk if it actually is, but! We did have a tradition close to this but using heated lead instead, so maybe it’s a real thing. 

The first time you met Montgomery Scott, you could’ve strangled him. You could hear him hammering something metal through the thin walls of the apartment. Even your “soundproof” headphones couldn’t get the noise out of your skull. A swing every second as the clock ticked forward from 2:01 a.m. to 2:02, 2:03, 2:04

“The love of God,” you hissed and threw the covers off yourself. The way your blood was boiling, you didn’t even notice how cold the floor felt against your bare feet as you stomped out the door.

He only answered after the fifth knock, unable to hear the door over his own noise. When he finally poked his head out, you felt some of the anger leave you. Despite living in the building for a few months now, you’d never actually gotten know your neighbors and you were starting to regret it as you looked at the man in front of you, red hair sticking up in all directions, thick-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose. His gently curved jaw was covered in stubble. You wanted to run your fingers against the roughness. At least, until he opened his mouth.

“Well, hello. Didn’t think anyone else’d be up at this hour.”

“Pretty sure half the building’s awake with all that hammering you’re doing.”

“Aye, what can I say? I do love getting hammered.” He smiled at you, hoping the joke would lighten the air, but your scowl only deepend. “Alright I’m sorry, lass. I was working on a new project and got a bit carried away, but I could be convinced to keep it quiet if you tell me your name.”

You remained unimpressed. “How about you keep it quiet and I won’t tell the property manager you’ve got an open flame in your apartment.”

“I haven’t got an open flame.”

“No? Then what’s that?” You pointed to a the metal contraption in the living room. It was currently shooting a small flurry of sparks onto the carpet, which was beginning to smoke.

“Shite,” your neighbor said, bolting back into his apartment to deal with the mess and stumbling over a few stray scraps of metal. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you turned back to your apartment. “I’m Scotty, by the way,” he called after you. “It was a pleasure to-” whatever he was going to say was lost in a string of curses as the fire alarms started going off.

The second time you met Scotty was an accident. Whether or not it was a happy one was still up for debate. You were coming home from a rather unspectacular date with your boyfriend, who seemed oblivious. He was always oblivious.

You stood in the doorway to your apartment, trying to keep him from coming inside as you fumbled with your keys and your thoughts, wondering if there was an easy way to break up with someone. He, of course, couldn’t tell anything was wrong as he tried to duck around you.

“Come on, babe. I want a beer.”

“You had three at the restaurant,” you muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you sighed. “I just...I think-”

“You think? That’s a new one.” He tried to duck around you again, but you put a hand to his chest.

“Yes, Rob, I think. I think you should leave.”

“Fine, I’ll grab a beer for the road, then.”

“No, I think it’s better if you don’t.”

“God, stop being such a bitch. I’m getting a fucking beer.” Rob grabbed your arm hard enough to make you wince. Almost as soon as he grabbed you he was yanked off.

“Oi, mate. Think she said it’s time for you to go.” You had to admit, the leather jacket made Scotty look tough, despite being half a head shorter than Rob.

“Don’t think it’s any of your business, Braveheart.”

You tried to worm your way between the two before their testosterone got the best of them. Before you could get a word in, Rob pushed you out of the way, sending you back first into the wall. Your head cracked back against it, sending a ringing through your ears. The hallway spun as you blinked the world back into focus in time to see Scotty pull back and swing a punch at Rob, who swung back twice as hard. Scotty crumpled in front of you.

He woke up on a couch that definitely wasn’t his. It was actually comfortable and smelled faintly like flowers. Scotty imagined his smelled like week-old Guinness.

“Oh thank God,” you said, setting a cup of tea on the coffee table as Scotty sat up. “I was starting to think I might have to call an ambulance.”

“Glad you didn’t. My mates’d have my hide if they find out I was in another fight.”

You bit your bottom lip, holding an ice pack out to him. “Wasn’t much of a fight, was it?”  Scotty cracked a smile, laughing so hard he forgot how much his head hurt.

The two of you met many times after that, sharing stories and beers and occasionally couches if you fell asleep during whatever Netflix binge you were running through at the moment. For the most part, you were willing to forgive Scotty’s midnight mechanics since the two of you became friends.

Tonight was different. It was your first Christmas alone - not just since you and Rob broke up. Your parents had booked a couples cruise for Christmas and would be partying in Antigua, leaving you by yourself in your small apartment. You hadn’t even bothered to put up any decorations, figuring there was no one to impress. Instead, you threw yourself into work, finishing your third straight 14 hour work day and looking forward to nothing more than a good night’s sleep on Christmas Eve.

You were just drifting off when the sound of bagpipes drifted through your wall. With a huff, you rolled over, sandwiching your head between pillows. The sound was barely even muffled. You reached for your phone to text Scotty to keep it down. You got a one word response:

Scrooge.

The music quieted, though, and you sank back into your bed, revelling in the silence before it was pierced with a round of raucous laughter. You stared up at the ceiling, listening to glasses clink together, the sound of bagpipes still in the background. With a groan, you rolled out of bed and pulled on the first pair of jeans you found. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

That’s how you ended up in front of Scotty’s apartment, trying to ignore the way your heart beat faster when he shouted your name excitedly. You spared him a joke about the sweater he wore, bright red with a T. Rex in a Santa hat, as you entered his apartment.

It was a mess of lights and decoration and half-finished projects scattered around the living room. Scotty quickly introduced you to his friends before handing you a cup of (spiked) cider. “You’re just in time. We were just about to break out the eggs.”

“Eggs,” you asked, eyeing him warily.

“Aye, it’s an old tradition. You crack an egg and it tells you yer future.” You bit back a laugh, not wanting to hurt Scotty’s feelings. Excitement was written all over his face as he plopped back on the couch, moving a stack of paper plates to make room for you. “Why don’t you go first, love? Ye just prick the egg with this pin and drop it into the water and wait to see what shape the whites take.”

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you teased as you reached for an egg. Still, you grabbed the glass of water and pin. Scotty held his hands over yours, showing you how to poke through the shell without breaking the egg. Then, you dropped it into the water and watched the whites ooze out. To you, it looked like a mess, but you heard Scotty hum approvingly beside you.

“An arch. Means you’ve got some conflict at work or with yer family. That why you’re spending Christmas alone?”

You stared at Scotty, trying to tell if he was joking. You hadn’t told him about your parents’ cruise, but you were hesitant to believe in the clairvoyant powers of an egg. “Shut up,” you teased, handing the pin to the blond man in the armchair next to you. The cider must’ve been stronger than you thought because you already couldn’t remember his name. Kirk maybe?

Slowly, you went around the room. Kirk saw a snake in his egg whites, which Scotty said was a sign of a happy sex life. Bones, much like you, didn’t see anything in his egg, but Scotty swore up and down there was a boat, a symbol of prosperity in life and work. Finally, the pin made its way back to Scotty himself, who sat, nose against the glass, as he waited for the whites to leak out.

Even you couldn’t deny the shape it took: like an anchor, sinking and swirling as the egg whites mixed with the water. Scotty’s eyes drifted over to you, then snapped back to the glass when he saw you looking back. You thought the tips of his ears grew pink, but it could’ve just been the alcohol in his system.

“What’s that one,” you asked.

“Hm,” Scotty looked at you again briefly before looking away. “Oh, horseshoe. Just standard stuff. Luck and all that.” His ears definitely grew pinker.

Bones scoffed. “Please, I grew up in Georgia. I’ve seen my fair share of horseshoes and that ain’t one. That’s an anchor.”

“Och no, that’s not..It’s, um. It’s a….a horseshoe. You’re just too drunk to see it over there.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not drunk, and I can see it’s an anchor. Is it a bad sign?”

Scotty shook his head. “No, not bad.”

“Then what’s it mean?” You nudged Scotty gently with your elbow when he remained silent. “Come on, Scotty. Not like you to be shy.”

He ran a hand down his face as he leaned back next you on the couch. He wrestled with himself before saying, “It means hope.”

“Wow,” you said dryly, “how unfortunate for you. I’ll pray for you and all your hope.”

“It’s also a sign of soulmates.” Scotty let his eyes drift over to you again and your breath caught in your throat. “That your life is anchored to someone else’s. Steadfast love.”

Scotty slipped a hand under your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. If you had any doubts about what he meant, they evaporated when he pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back perhaps too desperately, having wondered how his lips would feel every time you fell asleep together on your couch. Every time he wandered to your door in nothing but a towel his shower wouldn’t run hot water.

An uncomfortable cough broke you out of the moment and Scotty pulled away, ears red as his sweater with a smile brighter than the tree in the corner. You matched his smile, burying your face against his shoulder to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. You could still taste peppermint on your lips.

Jim was the first to break the silence, picking an egg up and turning it in his hands. “I think I just found a new pickup line.” The room fell back into comfortable laughter as you leaned against Scotty. He put his arm around you and you felt less alone than you had any Christmas before.

Tags:  @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @reading-in-moonlight​

[pennywaltzy]

What I’ll Write/Requests

(as of 9/20/19)

Since this is currently on my commission page and I’m no longer doing fic commissions, I figured I should copy it & update it with the new fandoms I do? So here it is.

Requests are currently CLOSED until I catch up on the hundreds of prompts I have at both my blogs. The only exception is if I reblog a prompt/prompt list here.

The following is a list of fandoms I write and characters/ships I feel most comfortable writing:

Sherlock I’ll write just about any ship you can throw at me. I write F/F fic (with the exception of NC-17 fic), M/M fic (with the exceptions of NC-17 fic and anything other than Mystrade, Sheriarty and MorMor, and Johnlock for special friends), M/F fic (almost any ship, NC-17 rating only for Sherlock Holmes/Female Character pairing fics) and select OT3s (Sherlock/Mary/John, Sherlock/Molly/Irene, Lestrade/Mycroft/Anthea and Molly/Moriarty/Moran). No Mrs. Hudson pairing fics except the canon one and Wilf from DW; no Magnussen or other bad guys not already mentioned above.

Doctor Who Generally I only write Eleventh Doctor era and some of Twelfth Doctor era (I am not current with Rose, Martha, Donna, Bill and The Fam eras yet, but I have all the box sets by Doctor save Thirteen). At the moment I mostly can write Eleven, River, Amy, Rory, Martha and Mickey, and can kind of write Clara, Vastra, Jenny, Strax, Jack and a few other recurring ones…ship wise I write Rory/Amy, Eleven/River and Vastra/Jenny (though I can possibly be persuaded to write Twelve/Clara, maybe, depending on the prompt). No NC-17 fic.

Elementary I’m much better at Joan, Marcus, Gregson and Alfredo than Sherlock. My only real ship for this show that I’ve written is Marcus/Joan though I’d love to try Jamie and Sherlock/Jamie in a twisted sense or Jamie/Joan. Also, fair warning: I’m mostly familiar with season 1 and the Kitty arc in season 3, but I have access to all the season save the last one via my library..

Star Trek: Alternate Original Series I do not do a whole lot of ships for this verse aside from Spock/Uhura, Sulu/Ben and a kind of biased Kirk/Uhura (I RP that ship in one of my games) personally but I am willing to write any ship except Bones/Carol (I have issues with that one). I do write slash ships for this series; just ask and I’ll see what I can do. I do not really write Scotty or Chekov with their accents often though I will through in Chekov using Russian occasionally. I will also acknowledge aspects of the Discovery verse (ie, usually Michael Burnham on her own, but occasionally Tilly and other Discovery characters as they might be in the AOS series). No NC-17 for any ship except Kirk/Uhura, and then only in my RP verse fics.

Marvel Cinematic Universe Ship wise I’m pretty open amongst Captain America characters, as well my personal OT5 is any combination of Steve/Sam/Bucky/Nat/Clint with a dash of either Peggy or Sharon given the situation. AoS I’m pretty much either Coulson/May or Daisy/Jemma at the moment (though I will write a few other ships for both, like Jemma/Fitz, but NOT Skyward). I am familiar with Thor characters, Peter Parker, Iron Man characters, Stephen Strange, Wong, and Shuri. Anything else, please ask and I’ll see what I can do. I do have access to the entire MCU to watch, but prefer to avoid certain movies. Will write NC-17, but it depends on the characters/ships.

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries I’m pretty much primarily a Jack/Phryne writer in this fandom. I can do a decent Dot and Hugh but I haven’t attempted anyone else. Also, shorter stories are best. Will not write NC-17 for this fandom. Am planning to add “Crypt of Tears” to the list of what I’m familiar with when it comes out.

Star Wars Movieverse I’m still refamiliarizing myself with this series (so far I’m current/mostly current on the original trilogy sequel trilogy so far and “Rogue One”) but I’m pretty fair game as to characters and ships I will write for those three sections of it. However, I will only write brother/sister Luke & Leia stories, and when it comes to Rogue One I’m iffy on just who I can write since all I’ve written so far is a Jyn POV piece. Other than that, feel free to toss an idea at me prior to requesting and I’ll give a more resolute yes or no answer. No NC-17 for this fandom

NEW FANDOM - Good Omens So I am vastly more familiar with the book than the miniseries, but I do have access to the miniseries and plan on watching it soon. I will probably end up writing Aziraphale/Crowley and Gabriel/Beelzebub because that’s what my enabler writes, but feel free to toss other ideas at me. No NC-17 for this fandom, and would actually prefer a ton of gen prompts if given prompts for this fandom.

NEW FANDOM - DCCU So I’m limited in this one, as the only one I’ve attempted is Wondertrev fic, but I’ve seen “Batman vs Superman” and “Wonder Woman” and am planning on watching the rest at some point. Would probably feel most comfortable with Wondertrev, Clois and Wonderbat. No NC-17 for now.

NEW FANDOM - Legends Of Tomorrow I am much much more familiar with this show than the rest of the DCTV shows, having seen the first season and following various developments since here on Tumblr. As I am still in Series 1, will probably focus on Captain Canary for a while until I get used to the newer characters. Potentially will write Avalance, Constagreen, Zari/Amaya and Constantine/Sara as I get more into the show. No NC-17 so far.

NEW FANDOM - DCAU Very very familiar with the random DCAU shows (minus Superman: TAS and The Zeta Project). Big Harley/Ivy fan, big Wonderbat fan, Big Question/Huntress fan, big Green Arrow/Black Canary fan, big Batcat fan, big Terry/Dana fan. Don’t know how well I can write all of the above except I know I can write Harley/Ivy, as I already have. No NC-17. For other characters in DCAU (excluding The Zeta Project, Superman: TAS and Static Shock for the moment) ask and we’ll see what I can do.

NEW FANDOM - Midsomer Murders So this one…I’ve watched pretty much every episode up to Winters at least once, if not more? I’m willing to give any character and implied/hinted at/”will they or won’t they?” ship a chance. Send me Jones prompts and I may give you a longer fic (he’s my fave). No NC-17 for now, nothing probably over 500 words for most fics until I get more comfortable in this fandom.

CROSSOVER SHIPS I do write crossover ships as well! Most of them are Sherlock oriented, but I ship McCoy/Molly (Star Trek AOS/Sherlock), Khan/Molly (Star Trek AOS/Sherlock), Sherlock/Amy (Sherlock/Doctor Who), Lestrade/Donna (Sherlock/Doctor Who), Eleven/Molly (Doctor Who/Sherlock), Rory/Molly (Doctor Who/Sherlock), Martin/Molly (Cabin Pressure/Sherlock), Bucky/Clara (MCU/Doctor Who) and McCoy/Donna (Star Trek AOS/Doctor Who). Other potential crossovers are welcome, just run the ship and a prompt by me and we’ll see if I can make it work.

Also old fandoms I could be persuaded to do again (but under very limited and probably non-shippy circumstances, and not for anything long unless it’s for a special present) would include Bleach, St. Trinians movies, CSIverse and early season Supernatural.