Mitch is a junior at NYU majoring in fashion. He takes an intro to cinema class for fun, but what's NOT fun is how hard he's crushing on the hot grad student teaching it. Okay, maybe it's kinda fun. FLUFFY because I'm me, but also vaguely angsty. This fic would probably be classified as student/teacher, but even if that's not normally your cup of tea, you might like this one. It's really not gross or uncomfy and they're aged 21 and 24 so there's nothing sketchy. Updates at least once a week!

"What the hell are you and why are you following me?" I demanded, angrily, as I rubbed my sore arms. "I am a Specially Created Observational Technological Trainee, otherwise known as an S.C.O.T.T. Your safety is my top priority. I have been trained to tend to my human," he explained. Ok, I could play along. "Well, S.C.O.T.T is too much to say, so I'm going to call you Scott, is that ok?" I asked. "If it is ok with you, then it is ok with me," he replied. "Ok cool, so...how do I get rid of you?"

Complex 1. (adj) not easy to analyze or understand; complicated or intricate. 2. (n) a disproportionate concern about something; obsession, fixation (i.e. Hero Complex) This is a story of a world on the brink of destruction and the heroes who come to save it. It's about expectations and assumptions and cliches, and also maybe a bit about our boys in spandex. So, enjoy! Cover by the amazing Eliak22!!

Scott's a cocky, driven performer trying to make it in the world of professional wrestling. Before he can make it, though, he needs to get past Mitch.

"Police! Open up!" I yell, banging again. I steel myself as this time I hear the locks click-clunk and see the door pull back slowly to reveal a half-naked blond bear of a man, who fucking towers over me. He's standing, blocking the doorway, with a frying pan in one hand and an aerosol can in the other. His face is flushed, his chest heaving with exertion, eyes wide with adrenaline, and his bare torso is glistening with sweat. He adjusts the grip on the pan and I see the muscles of that arm ripple underneath the monochrome sleeve that adorns it. Shit. Why the fuck did I not call for back up? (Aka the failed one shot. From the ship that sails itself.) Some content is mature. Caution advised, but specific trigger warnings will be given where appropriate. Note: AWOOGA is used to label the dirrrrrrty chapters.

A collection of Scent of Love spin-offs. Getting familiar with the characters and storyline of Scent of Love beforehand is highly recommended.

Scott loves his little girl, Bailey, but being a successful manager for a major music label calls for a lot of hours at work. He hires a nanny, Mitch, who is perfect for his daughter, and, more importantly, perfect for him. (A single dad Scott AU with a side order of nanny Mitch)

"My name is Scott, by the way." Scott. It fit him. "I'm Mitch." Blue eyes scanned across his face before he was met with a smile.

Scott, Mitch, and the 1990s gay scene - brought to the modern day in honor of Pride month. I began writing this during Pride month in 2017. The LGBTQ+ community's ongoing battle for equality has come so, so far, especially in the last 20 years. While there are a lot of factors that brought us to this point, one of the most significant, in my opinion, is the role the internet has played. It's allowed us to more easily connect with each other and has been perhaps the best vehicle for queer visibility since Gilbert Baker created the first Pride flag. It wasn't always like this. It was hard being young and queer in the 1990s, but that time period was pivotal; dusk was falling on what being queer had always been. It was the end of small pockets of queerness, of gay districts and questionable bars and kids not having anywhere to turn for help. After fighting hard for 50 years, advancing equality bit by bit, there's a very real fear that we may lose ground in the current political climate. In honor of #Pride2017, and as a reminder of why we need to keep fighting, I'm going to use the internet to take a jump to the left and time warp Scott, Mitch, and the gang back to the mid 90s. Only the wealthy had cell phones, the internet was rudimentary and haphazard, and the music was amazing. The experiences in this series will reflect experiences I personally had or that friends of mine had in the queer community during that time. This is more than a love story.

Scömìche one-shots, from the ship that sails itself.