#I like Star Trek but I don’t know if I can deal with someone like that being my mutual especially given my history

[starlight-edith]

Just learned one of my mutuals has an absolutely horrible take and I don’t know what to do about it because I’m pretty sure this is the second time I’ve realized this and I just refollowed because I forgot 😭

[livwritesstuff]

you know that feeling where you’re having a god-awful day and all you really want is a hug but you’re at work so, like, that’s not gonna happen, and you basically just have to stew in all those shitty feelings and wait out the clock? yeah, me too, that’s kind of where this came from.

Eddie had a tough day.

It had started early that morning when the girls missed their school bus – not a huge deal, honestly, he was already gonna be leaving early to go get his car looked at.

But then he got shitty news from the mechanic, and then a meeting with his agent didn’t go the way he’d wanted at all, and then Hazel ended up being a total pain in the ass after he picked her up from kindergarten, and during her relentless haranguing, she knocked one of Eddie’s favorite mugs off the counter. It shattered, obviously, and she cried about it so he’d had to deal with both of those things at once, and it was just a day.

None of it was anything he couldn’t handle – the problem was the compounding nature of it and the way he basically just had to stew in it all until the next obstacle came along and made shit even worse.

All Eddie really wanted was Steve, and how Steve being around made dealing with this stuff so much easier, even if every other circumstance was the same.

He has to share Steve, though, and today he’s sharing him with Steve’s work until four o’clock.

It’s fine.

He can wait until four.

The older two girls got off their bus at half-past three, and, seriously, someone must have put something in the water this morning because they are in rare goddamn form today. If Hazel alone was bad, all three of them together were…well, thrice that. It’s like the universe said I see your bad day and I raise you three elementary schoolers hitting their peak annoyance thresholds simultaneously.

And it’s not like Eddie can even fucking fold, either.

It’s cold and kind of windy outside, which is Eddie’s least favorite weather and he’d thought maybe the girls would want to go right inside, but no. Of course they want to dig out the chalk that got stashed away in the garage last fall, and while Eddie is stuck shivering outside breaking up dumb arguments about who’s allowed to use which colors (he figured the answer was an obvious everyone, but apparently that’s incorrect), Steve leaves a message saying he tacked on an emergency session onto the end of his day and now he’s not out until five.

Eddie doesn’t hear it until he’s back inside, obviously, but when he does it’s like someone ran a whole fucking dagger through his chest.

He’s halfway through making dinner when Steve gets home (he’d actually be done making dinner if the pot of water hadn’t boiled off while he’d dealt with yet another stupid argument), and he drops everything to meet him at the door.

It’s like Steve can tell in an instant the kind of day Eddie had.

“What happened?” he asks as he toes off his shoes.

Eddie shakes his head, “Everything…nothing…I don’t even know. Just…one of those days.”

Steve nods his understanding, and as soon as he’s got his coat hung up he’s pulling Eddie into a hug.

It ends up being kind of a bone-crushing one — that’s on Eddie, though. He’d just fucking needed it. He knows he’d needed it when Steve’s arms tighten around his shoulders and he feels that much better.

“You okay?” Steve asks without letting him go, the breath of his words hitting warm against Eddie’s neck.

“Just tired,” he answers.

Steve pulls away.

“You can take a break, Ed,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes – not concern, exactly, but more like awareness, “I’ll be up in a bit.”

Eddie just nods and heads for the stairs. As he goes, he faintly hears Steve asking, “What the hell did you guys do to Dad today?”, followed by the girls’ defensive protests.

In their room, Eddie makes it through one full rerun of Star Trek and then the first few minutes of a second before Steve joins him.

He notices that it’s quiet downstairs for the first time that evening, and he tries not to take it too personally. He’s always been comfortable in the knowledge that Steve might be better at the whole parenting thing than him (psych degrees and all that), but, shit, if he’s that much better…

“What’d you do, strangle them?” Eddie asks as Steve swaps his jeans out for a pair of faded plaid pajama pants.

“No, I told them that if I hear a single peep in the next hour I’m beheading all their stuffed animals.”

Eddie blinks.

Okay, maybe better isn’t exactly the right word.

“So they’re on verbal lockdown, basically,” Steve finishes.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, “You’re kind of crazy.”

“Yeah, well, you were always gonna rub off on me one of these days — don’t.”

And Eddie couldn’t help the way he threw his head back and laughed.

[dduane]

I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."

I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.

How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)

You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.

Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.

If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)

The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)

And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)

The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏

Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊

[bumblingbabooshka]

What I Say: I'm fine. What I Mean: There was a Star Trek Novel in which Tuvok and Jack Crusher (Beverely's Husband) have to go undercover in a bathhouse that they think is a brothel to get information out of a potential lead and because of a series of hijinks at one point must come to terms with the fact that they're definitely going to have to go into the boss's private room completely naked and might have to go even further than that to get the info they truly need. They were ready to go all in on that "I'm not gay but a mission's a mission" life.

Transcripts under the cut

[Image 1:

“We’re here to meet someone,” he said. “I was told that a Melacron named Pudris Barrh enjoyed visiting this establishment.” The alien smiled. “Oh, I see…you’re one of Barrh’s boys,” she remarked with a knowing lilt. Barrh’s boys? Crusher asked himself. What did she mean by that? He experienced a moment of alarm but kept his composure.

“If you can get past Old Scowly there,” the female continued, “you can join Barrh at his pleasures if you like." She raised a long slender arm and pointed to a gilded door to her right.] [Image 2:

“I don’t know for certain what kind of establishment this is,” said the commander, “but I can make a pretty good guess.”

“Unfortunately,” the Vulcan whispered back with sincere and undisguised revulsion, “so can I.”

"Still, we may have to go along with it.” Crusher regarded Tuvok. “Would that…pose a problem?”  “Naturally,” the Vulcan replied.

The commander grunted. “I was afraid you would say that.”

“And knowing what I do of human marriage customs,” said Tuvok, “I would imagine it would pose a problem for you as well.”

Crusher looked lost “Maybe we could just play along for some of it…for the sake of-”

“My master will see you now,” said Old Scowly. He had reappeared before the Vulcan knew it. “You may enter through the changing room, remove your clothes, and join Pudris Barrh at his pleasures.”] [Image 3:

As it happened, Tuvok wasn’t happy either. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that the uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach was apprehension. Of course, that was impossible. His control over his emotions was impeccable. And yet the sensation remained.

“There must be another way,” said Crusher. “There is no other way,” the Vulcan told him. “This is the situation in which your plan has placed us.” He knew his words sounded biting, but he didn’t wish any of them back.

The human ran his hands through his thick, dark hair. “Damn it,” he said, “If Beverely ever…” “Find out about this?” the ensign suggested.

Frowning, Crusher nodded. “But as you say, there’s no other option open to us. I guess we’ll just deal with whatever comes as best we can.” He grunted. “The things we do for king and country.”] [Image 4:

When the air cleared for a moment - a byproduct of their entrance - the Vulcan was able to get a better look at their host. He was rather corpulent for a Melacron, it seemed, and more pale-looking than most.

As thick, sludgy ripples made their slow way outward from Barrh’s generous torso, he waved to Tuvok and Crusher. “Please, gentlemen, join me. We’ve not met yet, but there are few better places to get to know someone than in The House of Comfort!”

[Crusher] and Tuvok exchanged a quick glance. Taking a deep breath, the human walked up to the carpeted stairs and placed first one foot, then the other, into the hot, liquid muck.

The ensign had little choice but to follow suit. He assured himself, as he sank up to his chest in the thick, surprisingly pleasant-smelling stuff, that there was realy no logical reason T’Pel ever had to become acquainted with this misadventure.

Besides, he reflected, there was quite a good chance that the majority of his and Crusher’s actions would be classified. He had to confess that he found some comfort in the prospect.]

Bonus:

Tuvok and Crusher apparently both go home and tell their wives about this experience. I don't know if we learn of T'Pel's reaction but Beverely apparently thinks its hilarious!

[cookiescribble]

Something New

A/N: Someone asked me for a part two of this, and honestly? Don’t have to ask me twice, I’ve been thinking about it a lot 🫶🏻 sorry it took a little more time than I was expecting, we’re going on vacation soon so a lot of our time is being spent preparing for that :) - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: Spencer has been spending a lot of time bonding with his new coworker, and they’re starting to realize that they might have more feelings than they were ready for.

~~~

     I was, admittedly, pretty nervous the first time I came over Spencer’s apartment.

     I’ve always been a really shy person, and new situations always seemed a little intimidating to me. But Spencer was… different, and that comforted me. 

     I walked up to his apartment that first day, fidgeting a little as I approached his door. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly. 

     He answered the door, smiling, gesturing for me to come in. 

     I smiled and looked around his apartment. I hadn’t known him very long but it seemed very… him. There was a bookshelf against one of the forest green walls that held a large amount of books; if it belonged to anyone besides Spencer, I would’ve doubted all the books had been read. But I guess if you can read as fast as he can, getting through all those books isn’t that big a deal. 

     He led me to the couch and motioned for me to sit down. He had taken out a DVD set of Star Trek: The Original Series that was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

     He took the DVDs and started speaking. “So, I know you said you’ve seen some of TOS, but I figured it would be better to watch it completely through from start to finish.”

     “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen any of it,” I replied. “Plus, I always like to watch things fully in order. I can’t just pick up a show in the middle. I have to start at the beginning.”

     He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I feel the same way! People have told me it’s not a big deal to start watching a show in the middle, but I could never do that.”

     I smiled. “Plus, there’s only 3 seasons of TOS, right? It’s not that hard to get through.” I could feel myself calming down as the conversation seemed to flow easily between us. 

     “There’s only 79 episodes. It’s really short, considering how many other shows and movies came out of it.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment as he put the DVD in the player. “… I have all the other Star Trek shows and movies too, if you want to watch them.��� He cleared his throat and quickly continued, “of course, for now we’ll just stick to this and, um, we don’t even have to finish if you end up changing your mind…”

     I shook my head. “No, I want to do this. I think it’ll be fun.” I smiled reassuringly. “Plus, what I have seen I’ve really liked, so I definitely want to watch the whole thing.”

     He smiled back at me and sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to agree to this. Most people don’t really take my interests seriously…” he admitted, sounding a little sad. 

     I just shrugged. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I? Why would I come here if I wasn’t interested?” 

     “I guess that’s true,” he said as he picked up the remote. “… So, are you ready to start?”

     I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready,” I responded before he started playing the first episode. 

…

     We fell into a regular routine after that first day. 

     I’d usually come over about once a week. We’d always start with Spencer recapping the last episodes we watched, recalling them in perfect detail so I could remember exactly what happened. 

     I really liked watching the show with him. A lot of times, he’d get really excited and talk during the episodes. He’d always apologize when I asked him to rewind so I could catch what I missed while he was talking, but I always told him I didn’t mind. And I really didn’t, I loved listening to him talk. He always had something interesting to say. 

     I found myself starting to watch him more than I watched the show. I was trying really hard not to admit it to myself, but I was really starting to feel something between us. I’d noticed the way we both started to get comfortable with each other as time went on, and how we started to sit closer to each other every time we hung out. I felt some kind of… spark, whenever I was with him. 

     I tried to ignore this feeling, but it was getting more and more difficult. I felt so happy to see him all the time; hanging out with him felt like the highlight of my week. I looked forward to it for days, and I couldn’t help but think of how much I wanted to be alone with him when I saw him at work. 

     But I kept this all to myself. It was just a silly crush, and I didn’t even know if he had feelings like that. Plus, there’s no way I could have a crush on a coworker. That could never work out well. 

     Right?

… (POV change)

Spencer wasn’t used to spending so much time with someone. Sure, he talked with his coworkers every day, but it wasn’t the same. No one shared interests with him like this. 

Since this was all new to him, he figured these feelings he was having were just normal when you made a new friend. This certain fondness he was feeling that he had never felt before now. 

But as time went on, and he kept spending more time with them, he was starting to suspect he was feeling a little more than friendly with them. He started spending a lot of time wishing they would hang out more. Eventually, he couldn’t help it, and asked them to come over even if he’d already seen them that week. He’d say it was because he wanted to keep watching the show, but really he was just excited to see them. 

Eventually, he couldn’t deny the feelings he had for them anymore. 

There was one day they came over, after there had been a particularly exhausting case. It just so happened to end on the day they had both been reserving to watch the show together. Spencer offered to switch the days and let them catch up on sleep, but they insisted that they still wanted to come over. 

It wasn’t a problem for a while, but eventually, as Spencer was talking, they stopped replying to him. He looked over to see they had fallen asleep curled up on the couch. 

He just stared at them for a few moments before pausing the show, not wanting them to miss what was happening. He wasn’t sure what to do; he didn’t want to wake them up because they looked so peaceful. They looked… really cute…

He shook his head as if trying to shake the thought out of his mind. He stood up, getting a throw blanket and gently placing it over them, careful to not wake them up. 

He walked to the kitchen, figuring he’d make something to eat in case they were hungry when they woke up. Really, he just needed an excuse to not be near them right now. It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to slip his arm around them and let them sleep on him.

He tried not to let his mind wander as he made dinner, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop thinking about them.

He kept trying to rationalize his thoughts, like he always did. It had never been a problem before; he had always been a logical person, so it had never been difficult to keep his thoughts in check. Until now.

He knew that he shouldn’t have feelings for a coworker. It just wasn’t professional. And besides, they probably didn’t feel the same way about him. No one ever had. It was new to him just to have someone willing to share his interests. Their feelings probably ended there: he was just a new friend to them.

Although… there have been multiple occasions where he thought he saw them sneaking glances at him. And the way they looked at him, he thought that maybe they were starting to have feelings for him too…

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice them waking up and walking into the kitchen until they spoke to him.

“Hey…” they started. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was falling asleep.”

Spencer jumped a little before turning to look at them. They still had the blanket wrapped around their shoulders. They looked really comfortable that way. And the sleepy tone in their voice…

He cleared his throat. “That’s okay. We had a pretty tiring few days with that case, so I figured I’d just let you sleep. You seemed like you needed it.”

They smiled sleepily. “Yeah, I guess I did.” They turned their attention to the kitchen counter. “You made dinner? Was I asleep that long?”

He shook his head. “You weren’t out for too long, but I figured you might be hungry when you woke up, so…” He trailed off, blushing a bit.

They smiled. “Thank you. I am actually pretty hungry.” They hugged the blanket a little closer to them, rubbing their eyes a bit.

Spencer turned around and grabbed two plates, carrying them to the coffee table in the living room. They followed him and sat down on the couch, moving the blanket so it was laying across their lap.

They ate in silence, the show playing on the TV in front of them, though they both seemed to have trouble paying attention to it.

After a few more episodes, it was time to leave. Spencer took the blanket when they handed it to him, putting it back where it was before.

He walked to the door with them, like he always did. Today, though, they lingered in the doorway a little longer. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe they just finally found the courage they’d been looking for all this time.

“Um…” they started, looking a little nervous. “Thank you for making dinner tonight. That was really nice.”

He smiled warmly at them. “Oh, it was no problem, really. I was hungry too,” he laughed awkwardly.

They smiled a bit, but they had a concentrated look on their face. “Well, uh, I was wondering… Maybe one day you’d like to… go out to dinner?” They took a deep breath before continuing quietly. “Like… as a date?”

He blushed and smiled, all the thoughts of doubt he’d been having earlier thrown out the window. “Yeah, I... I’d really like that.” He tried to sound calm, but it was clear he was really excited about it.

They smiled back at him, the nervousness gone as they realized he was just as happy about it as they were. “Okay. It’s a date, then.”

They said their goodbyes, both of them unable to stop smiling as they thought about what their future together would hold.

[t0ast-ghost]

HIIII Episode 10 (Dagger Of The Mind) time! I made it to ten! Now only… one.. seven… twenty… seventy four episodes to go!

Here’s the review:

- remember kids; when trying to beam something down to a penal colony they have to remove their shields first

- that is a whole ass man.. HOW DID YOU MISS THAT WHOLE ASS MAN

- no but seriously even airports can check for human tissue like- I forgot this was made in the 60s I’m stupid stfu t0ast

- “more like a resort colony” my ass, Kirk

- BONES!!! He just kinda stands on the bridge (for no reason) and stares at what’s happening (at Jim)

- wow two redshirts dead in five minutes

- okay Bones walks over to Spock FOR NO REASON and I’m pretty sure he just wants to bicker

- my name is WHAT my name is WHO my name CHICKACHICKA Van Gelder

- why would destroying one control panel kill the ship?!? Design flaw imo

- “that doesn’t ring true” what are you a truth detector? I thought he was a doctor

- I love Bones “going against” Kirk (he’s smiling the whole damn time) and Spock backing him up

- “oh yeah I’m sending down Dr. Noel” REVEAL SHES A WOMAN OH MY GOD

- why’d he need to bring Spock down to the transporter room? Emotional support? He’d miss his boyfriend?

- Lethe? Isn’t that the river of uhhh- ummm ugmmm… I forgor

- I like whatever was happening with the light in Lethe’s eyes

- awwwe Spock and Bones working together

- STOP CUTTING OFF DR. NOEL

- WHY WOULD YOU STAY THERE OVERNIGHT?!? Kirk would NOT survive a horror movie. He’d be first to die (comment down below)

- McCoy is like “Our boyfriend could be in danger, use your damn mind magic”

- OHHH OKAY I SEE WHY VULANS MEDITATE. The words he speaks to Van Gelder are a lot like being lead through meditation

- I LOBE THIS SCENE! The dialogue from Van Gelder, the movements and prompts from Spock, MCCOYS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS

- Kirk catapulting into danger right after they TOLD HIM NOT TO

- “and now she’s gone” “helen” I thought he was gonna shout or smt so when he just said “helen” it got me

- you know how this would be so much more tragic? If (canonically) Kirk was dating someone else aboard the ship *cough* you know *cough cough* and then the evil doctor implanted the idea he was in love with Dr. Noel and then him having to deal with the idea of loving both her and the other… anyway

- “Kirk to enterprise.. ughhkghjkk”

- He is literally the worst.. girlfailure

- people are too good at hiding in plain sight

- KIRK NOT AFRAID TO PUNCH A BITCH

- she- she just killed a guy.. good for her

- THE FUCKIN- the sitcom ass look Spock gives Jim like “oh really dr Adams did this”

- MCCOY!!! yeah he’s around. HE’S DEAD JIM MOME- oh no “he’s dead, captain” goddamnit Bones

- “can you imagine the mind emptied by that thing. Without even a tormentor” was a line most definitely meant for Spock and Bones but Dr.Noel saying “I understand” reminds me that she is indeed there not just observing but participating

- Bones just causally leaning against the back of his chair

- does he know? Does he even know that most medical officers don’t normally lean like that against your chair?

- OMG I SAW A POST ABOUT THE “it’s hard to believe a man could die of loneliness” “not when he’s sat in that room” AND THEN KIRK LOOKS OVER TO SPOCK AND SMILES

- he’s so surrounded by loved ones bro is beaming

Anyway all in all a good tenth episode!

I made a master list of all my Star Trek tos thought posts :D

[im-not-a-l0ser]

Beanies, Chapter 17

Hey.... so it's been a while.

Richie might’ve cleaned more in the last 7 hours than he had the entire time he lived there. 

Many reasons for that. The anxiety from having Max in their fucking house, not wanting anyone to get sick, wanting to make sure everything Max might even sort of need for baking was clean, the anxiety from having Max in their fucking house.

Lots of reasons. 

Max was planning to arrive around 9 am, which Richie thought it might’ve been too early, but Max made the case that the cake would need time to cool before being frosted. Which was fair. Richie didn’t want to risk anything. Anyway, Trevor wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.

“So, instead of just baking it yourself— which, you’ve done before— you invited Max over so you can watch him bake a cake,” Trevor said. “Do you realise how weird that is?”

“Max offered, Trevor. It wasn’t my idea.”

“Oh, of course he did,” Trevor said, in a tone that Richie didn't really understand. He still sighed.

“Can’t you just leave this alone?”

“Richie, every single day since I met Rudy, you teased me for liking him— and this was before I told you I liked him!  So, yeah, I’m gonna tease you about it, whether you like him or not. Just like you did.” 

“That’s different,” Richie said, “You hadn’t told me that you liked Rudolph, but you didn’t have to! I’m not an idiot, Trevor! First of all, he’s totally your type. Strong, but not that bulky, overcompensating at first but that mellows out after a while, and I know there are exceptions, but you like blue eyes a lot. Not to mention your habit of dressing more provocatively when you know you’re going to be around someone you like.”

“I don’t have a type.”

“Dude,” Richie deadpanned. “I can’t even deal with this right now,” He said instead of elaborating, shaking his head. 

Trevor sighed.

“I’ll tone it down,” He relinquished. “For today, at least. It’s just really difficult. You’re not the kind of person to invite someone over, especially on such short notice.”

“Well, I’m kind of desperate, Trevor.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” Trevor teased. “Sorry, it was right there.” Richie sighed. “I’m gonna get us some doughnuts. Want one?”

“Two please,” Richie said. “Shoot, what about Max?”

“I’ll get him some too, don’t worry,” Trevor dismissed, waving his hand absently. 

“I wasn’t worried,” Richie said, “I think that anxious is probably a better word for it. I know we’re not in our school here, but it’s not as if our house looks normal.” Richie motioned to the dozens of action figures, amiibos, funko pops and bobble heads framing their tv stand.

“Yeah, but Max knows you're a mega-nerd; it’s not like he’ll be surprised.”

“Yeah, Max knows I’m a nerd, but he prboably wouldn’t expect our parents to be bigger nerds than we are,” Richie argued, “Especially since we’re all nerds in different ways. I’m a weeb, you’re a thespian, dad’s a Trekkie and Whovian, mom’s a fantasy nerd.” 

“I don’t think Max can tell the difference between Assasin’s Creed characters and Hamilton characters.”

“That’s a poor example if you’re trying to say Max wouldn’t be able to tell how nerdy we are.” 

“Okay, fair,” Trevor said, “He couldn’t tell a Project Diva character from a Star Trek character,” He ammended. Richie snorted.

“I hate… that you’re probably right.” Richie shook his head solemnly. “He’ll learn in time.” Trevor giggled alongside him. 

“Is that a threat?”

“Only if you make it one.”

The twins shared more laughter until there was a knock at the door. 

“That’s Max,” Richie said, his joy immeaditely crashing into fear and panic. 

“Well, if you’re about to ask me how you look, the answer is: like a mess.” Richie rolled his eyes before freezing.

“Shit,” he said, “I have to get changed,” He said urgently. 

“Dude, I was kidding, why…” Trevor shut up once Richie pulled his shirt closer to his torso. “Ah. Gotcha. Yeah, go get changed; I’ll get the door.” 

“Thank you,” Richie called, rushing to the stairs.

“You got it,” Trevor said, basically to an empty room, as he walked to get the door. 

As Richie had said, Max was standing there, looking just as awkward as Richie just had. 

“Hey, Max. Welcome to our humble abode,” He said flatly.

“Where’s Richie?” Trevor bit back his snort.

“Oh, y’know, he was still in his pyjamas when you got here, so he ran to get changed,” Trevor excuse, leading Max into the house. “Because what he sleeps in is just so different than what he wears outside.” He shut the door. “Y’know, actually. What the fuck am I talking about, he doesn’t really sleep in clothes. Y’know that whole ‘overactive sweat-gland thing.’ Makes it really inconvenient to wear more than underwear.”

Trevor didn’t distinctly notice that Max flushed, but he’d definitely laugh at it in retrospect later.

“I’m gonna head out to get breakfast.” Trevor plucked his keys from the hooks hanging by the door. “You crazy kids have fun. I don’t want to come back to you giving him a swirly and him begging for his life.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“I’m joking, Max,” Trevor sighed, “Although, I don’t want to come back to see that, I don’t think you will, so it’s nothing to worry about, is it?”

“No sir.” Trevor actually laughed this time.

“Jeez,” Trevor said, “When’s the last time you’ve been in someone’s house?”

“I go to Jason’s a lot,” Max said, “But he’s got like a million siblings and I only go over when I don’t have the energy to feed myself. So like, once a week.”

“Do you call his dad sir? We’re gonna ignore the fact that I’m not Richie’s dad, I’m his twin brother, but y’know, same principle.”

“Uhh,” Max hesitated, “Jason’s dad isn’t really…” he motioned abstractly, “Around. He’s alive and shit, but his mom’s in charge, and she gets child support and alimony. But I’m pretty sure even Jason calls him ‘Jonathan.’ So no, I don’t call him sir.”

“Why are you calling me sir?” Trevor asked, “A guy might think you’re coming onto him.”

“Oh, god no,” Max said, a bit too fast. “I think it was just a reflex.”

Many implications sat beneath that simple statement, and Trevor didn’t feel like getting into it right now. His hunger was growing, and quite frankly, he didn’t feel like dealing with Max and Richie’s “not-flirting” when he finally came downstairs.

“Right,” was all he said. “I’m getting you doughnuts. Any aversions?”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Any. Aversions?” Trevor repeated slower.

“I really don’t like the ones with white frosting.” Trevor nodded, opening the door.

“Got it. Be back in a bit,” He called before shutting the door. 

Max, not knowing what was okay or not, just stood there, waiting for Richie to come back downstairs.

“Sorry about that,” Richie said, out of breath, not-quite-running down the stairs. 

“You okay?” Max asked. “I didn’t think you were that out of shape, dude.”

“Shut up,” Richie said with no real hat behind it, “Changing is a process feel me.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you just wore a t-shirt like most people,” Max joked before realising that Richie pretty much was just wearing a t-shirt, or rather wasn’t wearing the normal 4-ish layers.

A black and orange jersey-looking thing— which for some reason had a collar on it— matching shorts, and a plain black jacket. He was wearing socks, which Max didn’t quite understand, since they had a carpet and it was his own house.

“Are you sure those aren’t pyjamas?” Max ammended.

“It’s a uniform,” Richie said, “I thought you’d notice a sport uniform thing,” He joked, looking down at the jersey.

“It has a collar on it.”

“It’s a volleyball uniform.” He quickly corrected himself. “Okay, I guess not all volleyball uniforms have collars. But all the Haikyuu ones do. I think. Actually, I don’t think Shiratorizawa does. There’s probably another but I don’t remember. Kamomedai probably.”

“I’m sure that made sense to you,” Max muttered, turning toward what looked like the doorway to a kitchen. “This way?” 

“Yep,” Richie said. He began pointing to cabinets and drawers. “There’s baking essentials, bowls and trays, mixing and serving utensils, and I put out the eggs and butter, because it said they needed to be room temperature, but the raspberries are still in the fridge. I printed out the recipe, but I can set up my laptop if you want—”

“You need to slow down.” Max held up his hand. “I woke up like twenty minutes ago. Why don’t you just stay in here and help me get everything set up?” 

“Sure.”

Richie got the bowls and trays required for the recipe, while Max followed his direction of where the base ingredients were. 

“Okay, uh…” Richie ran his hand down the ingredient list, glancing around to check that it was on the counter. “Okay, yeah, that’s everything I think. Do you think you can take it from here, or do I still need to babysit you?” Richie teased.

“I can take care of it,” Max said, “You haven’t eaten yet.”

“Have you?”

“That’s not the point.” Richie rolled his eyes.

“Trevor will be here soon, we can just leave this stuff out, eat and then return.”

“Fine,” Max sighed, as if he were annoyed by it, but he had a smile on his face.

Richie lead him to their couch where they sat somewhat awkwardly. Richie was staring down at his legs, trying to subtly adjust his shirt to make his waist look less slim. Max, on the other hand, was running his eyes over the decor of the room. 

“Wow,” He said.

“Good wow or bad wow this time?” Richie asked, somehow both joking and very much anxious and serious. 

“Medium,” Max said. “I don’t understand what half this shit is,” He said, motioning to the entire room. Richie laughed nervously.

“Well, that is sort of the point,” He said. “We all like having our own thing, and we think it’s funny that the rest don’t understand what we’re talking about.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, my dad really likes Doctor Who, and even though we’ve seen it all, we don’t understand it as well as he does,” Richie tried. “I-It’s like how I talked about the volleyball teams earlier, except I don’t feel bad when it’s my family.”

“You feel bad when it’s me?” 

“Eh,” Richie said, and their laughter melted the tension quickly as it usually did. Richie yawned, covering his mouth as it opened so wide one might fear it’d get stuck. 

“How much sleep did you get last night?” 

“I didn’t…” Richie said with a bit of delirious laughter. 

“I said how much sleep did you get last night?” Max repeated. Richie snorted into giggles.

“No, not ‘I did not hear you,’ I was answering your question. I didn’t sleep last night.” 

“Dude,” Max decanted. “The fuck.”

“I stayed up really late filming and editing, and then I realised I should probably clean so you have a good workspace, and then once I was done cleaning it was morning and my brain won’t let me sleep when the sun is rising.”

“So you could sleep now?”

“Hypothetically, but I’m not going to.”

Before Max could argue, the door opened up. 

“Okay, Richie, I got your usual, but Max, pick the ones you want and I’ll take the other two, I can’t decide anyway,” He said, walking over to them. He sighed, glaring at Richie. “Did you put our folding table away?”

“Yeah, it’s…” Richie pointed to the folded tray table, which was usually filled with stuff in the middle of the living room. 

“Hold this,” Trevor sighed, shoving the box into Richie’s arms. 

Trevor set up the table, and they put the box of doughnuts down. 

“I can actually eat mine later,” Max said, standing up. Richie yanked him back down from the bottom of his shirt.

“No, you’re eating.”

“I can—”

“If you don’t eat, I won’t eat,” Richie said, glaring decisively. 

“Fine,” He grumbled, crossing his arms like a child. 

After eating, Max got to work on baking. Richie could see the kitchen from where he was sitting, so he didn’t worry too much about joining him in the kitchen. That’d prove to be a mistake. 

In Richie’s opinion, at least.

“Okay, cake’s in the…” Max shut his mouth as soon as he saw Richie curled up on the chair. “Fucking good,” He muttered, walking over to the couch and flopping down on it. 

He could hear Trevor coming down the stairs, and soon he could see him too. Holding what looked like a big long pillow. 

“Oh, is that one of those Japanese body pillows?” Max asked, his voice soft, not wanting to wake Richie. “He mentioned them. Does he… sleep better with them?” Trevor snorted. 

“Well, I’m sure he does, but that’s not what I’m using this for,” He said, walking over to Richie. 

Max watched, curious. Trevor stood next to the chair for a moment before lifting the pillow with both hands.

“You. Need to. Get. Changed. Be. Fore. You. Sleep!” He said, spitting each syllable as the pillow collided with Richie’s body. 

“Mgh,” Richie grumbled. “Hey,” He said, “Don’t use Rei and Asuka as a weapon,” He said, taking the pillow and holding it close to him. 

“Richie, if you’re gonna go to sleep, you need to get changed. You know that, you asked me to do this shit.”

“This is different,” Richie said, “I fell asleep by accident.” 

“That’s not different, that’s exactly when you asked me to wake you up,” Trevor said. “Go to your room and go to bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep right now,” Richie said. He glanced at Max. 

“You can sleep,” Max said, “It’s fine.”

“See, your b- friend is okay with it,” Trevor said, remembering his words from that morning. “Go to bed.” Richie shook his head.

“No, there’s a few hours between when Max leaves and when I have to get to Ruth’s; I can sleep then.” 

“You sure?” Trevor asked. Richie nodded decidedly. “Okay, well, if you don’t wanna conk out on the couch, maybe you should put on Haikyuu or something.” He waved his hand ambiguously. “One of those shows that gives you more energy than they rationally should.”

“Wha— It’s perfectly rational! You listen to Guns and Ships before dance rehearsal; how is that less weird than me getting excited about volleyball?”

“Guns and Ships is high-speed. There’s a whole Haikyuu episode where shorty and creepy have to study english so they can go to an away game.” 

“Guns and Ships is about asking France for help with the revolution!” 

“At 138 bpm!”

“Why do you know that!”

“Are you guys always like this?” Max asked. “I couldn’t imagine having siblings; I think we’d kill each other.”

“I believe that,” Trevor said. 

“We’re not always like this, we’re just often like this.” Trevor knocked Richie in the back of the head. “It’s a little worse these days,” He admitted.

“Why?”

“Trevor’s nervous about Rudy,” Richie said, craning his neck to look at his brother. 

“Why? Gonna ask him out or something?” 

“No,” Trevor said, a bit defensively. “We have to pick him up from the airport in two weeks.”

“And by we, he means he’s forcing me to drive him.”

“Why can’t his family pick him up?” Trevor sighed, presumably having answered this questions, potentially many times, before.

“I’ve talked to his foster family already, they’re busy the day of the flight. Leslie has a meeting, Sarah won’t even be in the state, and Daliah is four. Rudy could just wait at the airport for two hours for Leslie to get off work, but since I can drive, I offered."

“And then promptly panicked at the prospect of being alone in a car with him for two hours. So instead he decided, ‘yeah. Let’s bring my twin brother.' That’ll decrease the sexual tension,” Richie said. He turned to his brother. “Speaking of such. If you two so much as kiss in my car, you will be walking home.” 

“Rudy and I don’t kiss,” Trevor said. Richie raised a brow. “Often.”

“There ya go.” 

“You kiss even though you’re not dating?” Max asked.

“We’ve kissed like twice ever. And don’t athlete’s slap each others asses?” Trevor deflected. 

“Touchy,” Max said. Trevor and Richie exchanged looks.

“Do you mean touche?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Trevor didn’t laugh, but Richie’s smile grew. 

“Did you make sure to put the filling in the fridge?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m not an idiot,” Max said, sitting back. 

“I am paying you, by the way,” Richie said, “Before you argue, I was given money to pay for the birthday cake. I used some of it for the ingredients, and the rest of it is going to be used to pay for your labour, okay?” 

“Okay,” Max said. “Fine.” He shrugged. 

“So, how much time you gots to kill?” Trevor asked. “I’m basically asking what show I should put on right now.”

“Oh, well, it takes about a half hour to bake, but then it has to cool. It takes like… ten minutes to make frosting, but cake takes like an hour minimum to cool.”

“Does it really?” Trevor asked, eyes widening. 

“Yeah, I was surprised too,” Richie said, nodding. “Why do you think he came so early? Do not. I swear, it’s like living with Ruth sometimes.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Peter has Ted, Ruth has herself, you have me!”

“I shouldn’t need to live with someone with a dumb, inappropriate sense of humour!” 

“C’mon, Richie, you walked right into that,” Max said, snickering. Richie groaned, throwing his head into his hands.

“I have to deal with this all day!” He groaned. He looked up, resting his chin on his hands. “Ted’s coming to Ruth’s party too.” Trevor chuckled and pat Richie’s back.

“Good luck with that dude.” He joined Max on the couch and Richie curled back into his pillow. “How’s Milo sound?” He asked, flicking the TV on. 

“Oh, yeah, that sounds good.” 

So they put on Milo Murphy’s Law.

Throughout the first episodes, a few things happen. Trevor steps away to take a phone call, Richie gets a blanket he’d put away earlier under the assumption that Max would think it was weird they kept blankets in the living room, Trevor deliberately sits down where Richie was sitting so that Richie has to sit on the couch, Max made a comment on Richie’s body pillow (“I thought you were gay” “Max, I promise you, this is literally the most safe for work version of them that I could find.”), Richie dozed off against Max and Trevor let him for an episode before waking him up. That was the main one. 

“I’m gonna have that song stuck my head all day now, thanks for that,” Max said, grunting as he got up. “But I have cake to work on, so.”

Max hummed 'Chop, Chop, Chop,' as he walked into the kitchen, the twins’ eyes following him. 

“Do you think he says that when he goes to work out?” Trevor asked, definitely loud enough for Max to hear. And if Richie hadn’t been sure of that already, the loud ass laugh Max let out confirmed it. 

“No, but I’m gonna start!” He called. 

“I’d be more annoyed if that weren’t so funny,” Richie sighed. Trevor smiled deviously. 

“And it’s funny because it’s true.”

“I’m gonna go see if Max needs any help!” Richie said, stomping into the kitchen. 

“I don’t really,” Max said, adding some sort of powder to their stand mixer.

“Then I’ll wash dishes.”

“Already did it,” Max said over his shoulder. 

“Right, well, damn me for trying to feel useful,” Richie said. Max sighed.

“Could you keep an eye on this while it mixes?” Max asked, switching the mixer on. “Stop it when it’s all combined. You know how to stop it, right?”

“Yes,” Richie said, joining Max’s side. 

Max left once he got his eye on the mixture and began preparing the cake for frosting. 

“So did you want me to write anything on here?” Max asked, “Because I’ll need to mix some vanilla frosting too, if you do.”

“Yeah,” Richie said, “But I could do it.” 

“No, I got it,” Max said, returning to Richie’s side, where the ingredients for the frosting was still sitting on the stove. 

“I’m using the stand mixer already,” Richie said.

“I know, but I can mix it by hand.”

“Nope, no,” Richie said, pushing the container of confectioners sugar away from Max. “You’re gonna get yourself hurt. Writing goes on after, you can mix it later and use the actual mixer for it.”

“Fine,” Max groaned. He stopped the mixer, which Max had distracted Richie from. 

Speaking of, Max must’ve noticed too, with how he froze. Richie was pseudo-boxed in against the counter with Max’s arm there. They both stood there for a moment. 

It was different from how Richie was usually kabedonned by Max— usually it had a very negative connotation. This was more neutral, being an accident and all, but… it felt different. 

“Uh,” Max said, sounding shaky. “I need to get the bowl.”

“Oh, sorry,” Richie squeaked, stepping aside. 

Max continued as if nothing happened. At least, that’s what Richie saw. In reality, his eyes were wide, mouth pressed into a thin line, almost not breathing at all. It took every ounce of his being not to do something just then.

Maybe Trevor was right, maybe he did like Richie like that. And Max already knew that. But his mind still rattled: no, he didn’t like Richie that way, it was just the circumstance. He’d had that feeling with Richie pressed in his box before, back before they were even friends. When the words stopped, the tension thickened and Max felt that instinct to lean in. 

It was just worse now that Richie probably wouldn’t vomit because of it. At least, Max hoped he wouldn’t. 

Richie returned to the living room. 

“Didn’t need help?” Trevor teased.

“I need to go lay down, I think I’m imagining things.”

“Make sure to change first,” Trevor said as Richie walked up the stairs. Richie waved his hand dismissively. 

A half-hour or so later, Max returned from the kitchen. 

“Where’s Richie?”

“Bed.”

“Oh,” Max said. 

“But you should stay!” Trevor rushed to add. “Richie has to pay you still! And, uh… y’know, you’re already here. And why would you leave when you could stay? And he’ll probably be down in a bit—”

“I want-” Max stopped himself. “I, yeah. I want to wait until he comes back down.”

“Did something happen in there?” 

“I think I might’ve almost kissed him a little bit?” 

“How almost?”

“Tension,” Max said. “But that could’ve just been on my side, obviously. I was probably just imagining it. And if I wasn’t, it was just a heat of the moment thing, I’m not… I don’t.” Trevor groaned.

“Why is it such a difficult task for you to admit you like my brother?” Trevor asked. 

“Because I don’t want to,” Max said, “I don’t want him to feel obligated to do anything for or with me. I don’t want him to think he has to do anything just because, because of how we are at school.”

“How you are at school,” Trevor corrected.

“How I act at school,” Max amended begrudgingly. “I don’t him to feel forced. I care about that stupid fucking nerd. And I hurt him enough already.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna stop pushing him around at school?” Trevor demanded. Max sighed.

“No,” He said. “It doesn’t. But he knows I don’t mean that shit. He has to know how much he means to me.”

“He might know better if you tell him how you feel.”

“Richie will never know how I feel, got that?” Max’s tone shifted. A monster again. Trevor’s heart sank and throat squeezed with fear. “Even if you tell him, he won’t fuckin believe you, so you can’t even try.” He took a breath. “Richie’s fucking perfect, if he finds out he likes me, he’d go out with me to make me feel better. I’m not gonna force him to do that. I don’t want to force him to do anything.”

That’s when it hit him. 

“Oh…”

Max was the one with April. The girl who Mimi reminded him of. The girl who pushed him.

“Okay,” He conceded. 

“Okay?” Max asked.

“Okay,” Trevor nodded. 

“Okay,” Max breathed. 

“I’ll go get Richie and tell him you’re about done.” 

Max sat antsy as Trevor did so, and centred on Richie as he walked down the stairs. He was totally screwed, wasn’t he? 

“Hey!” Max said, standing up as Richie neared the end of the stairs. “I was wondering if you wanted to make the white frosting. For, uh, for the text.” Richie smiled, and honestly, he looked so sleepy.

“Sure,” He said.

Max tried his best to keep his distance while Richie was making the frosting, afraid of getting too close. 

“Okay, done!” Richie exclaimed, turning the mixer off. 

“Cool,” Max said, stepping back when Richie walked closer. “I, uh, already set up the bag and stuff, if you wanna scoop it in. I think this is kind of a two-person job anyway, since it’s a pain in the ass to do alone.” 

“Okay,” Richie said happily, dislodging the bowl from the mixer. 

The situation required them being close together, and Max couldn’t help but savour the warm emanating from Richie. He must’ve been tucked under his blankets back in his room. 

“Okay, that’s all of it.” 

“Hm? Right!” Max said, laughing nervously.

Max finished the cake at Richie’s instructions, and it was placed carefully into a box for transportation. 

“Thanks for making the cake for me, Max,” Richie said, buzzing with excitement as they moved into the living room. 

“Of course, dude,” Max said. “It’s the least I could do for being a complete assface to you for literal years,” He said, honestly cringing at his own words. 

“Well, I’m still paying you,” Richie said, “This was labour, and you’re getting paid for it.” 

“Fine,” Max groaned.

“This is delicious,” Ruth commented after moaning obscenely for a distressingly long period of time. 

“We’re going to ignore that sound she just made,” Pete said, for what should’ve been the first time ever, and most definitely wouldn’t be the last. “But she’s right, this is amazing. Where’d it come from?”

“Oh, I got a friend to make it,” Richie said, avoiding eye contact. He knew it was gonna be a lot of shock and confusion, he didn’t feel like facing that. 

“You have other friends?” Pete asked, definitely not believing him.

“Only one,” Richie said. “He came over this morning and baked the cake for you, and if you make any more comments about my friend, I’m taking the leftovers and never bringing you baked goods ever again.” 

Ruth and Pete exchanged looks, almost like they were debating on risk. 

“Looking forward to theatre camp this year?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, I’m excited, all packed and everything.”

[hazelcephalopod]

Star Trek: Prodigy is actually as good as I’d heard. As far as “Star Trek animated show for kids” I don’t think I could expect more. As an animated show alone it’s quite good too.

spoiler below

Also Janeway is the perfect choice for this. For the mere reasons she is just unhinged enough for any of this, but competent enough to deal with children/young adults. For the reasons of “yes you can turn me into a hologram” and later “yes I’ll recruit all of these children as my trainee officers.” I know Starfleet has done it before, but usually it was a one off case basis. There’s like 5 of them and one of them sounds like a preteen at best, and another was just born (admittedly it’s complicated). I mean sure she’s kinda done it before, but at least then it was on a ship stranded decades of travel from earth. Now it’s just… “well someone needs to direct them”.

[the-phantom-author]

Ludwig Ahgren | Dad headcanons

Dedicated to that one anon who brought it up and @starsyoubreaklikesugardust. Request are open! Reblogs always welcomed!

When you tell him he is very *Star trek shock meme*He wouldn’t know how to respond, like you are able to see him buffer in real time. Probably wouldn’t process it for a few days, when he does it’s not something he’d tell you but you will see the immediate change in behavior.

A little less annoying, he wouldn’t be yanking at your hair as much, he’d tone down on poking at you. He’d also start silently keeping track of when you last ate or had something to drink, and if he thinks it’s been too long then he’ll bring you something to snack on or some water.

He would absolutely have a stream where chat gets to pick out things for the nursery. Like obviously you are there, and get unlimited chances to say no to things. But like It would end up filled with the most ridiculous large sized stuffed animals, random fandom decor, the most obscure baby books, Mounted stuffed animal heads, it’s very chaotic.

Would mention it to people, but not in a “I will always talk about this” way, more of a “I can’t think of anything else to say” way. However if you’re out with him and someone else brings it up he’ll just mention that they're getting comfortable, or he’ll try to start something by saying that you're not pregnant. He likes to cause small bouts of drama.

Likes to pretend that he is not over invested in the pregnancy. Like he’s at all the appointments and he’s consistently keeping an eye on you, but he’ll be on stream or at the appointment and be like “Yeah, she pregnant but it’s not like a huge deal” that said, he is constantly telling you little facts about the things he’s learned while doing his own research.

He likes to nap with you, and like on one hand, cute who doesn’t want to nap with their baby daddy, but on the other hand he’s a warm person and i can imagine that it gets to warm really quickly.

Boy dad extraordinaire. That being said he has no clue on how to handle a baby. Would not baby his boy, only ever talks to him in the same tone as he uses to address chat in the beginning of his videos.

I also feel as if he’d like carrying the kid around a lot. He'd baby wear all the time, but even when the kid grows out of baby wraps Lud will just carry him around on his side. He just likes doing things with his boy. Like any time he goes out to the store he’s taking the baby with him, or when he’s cooking, that baby is on his chest. He’ll stand there with the child on him as he narrates what he’s doing.

Would take baby boy on stream but never introduces him, never tells his name. They would both just sit there at the start of the stream, the baby just staring not paying attention until “Boys!”, and he gets startled. Obviously Ludwig gets into comfort mode, takes the kid off screen, and all chat hears Lud quietly saying “Come on little guy, don’t be like that.” Until they both come back as if nothing has happened. They just move on until someone in chat asks about him and Ludwig just goes “Oh him? I don’t know man, I was just given him and told to watch him.” and move on.

Also would have one of these.

As the kid gets older and starts to walk and talk he turns into a little Ludwig. He would follow Ludwig everywhere, he’s mimicking everything that he can see Ludwig doing, just a miniature version of his father. You can’t tell him this though, he’ll always deny it “What do you mean he acts like me? He can’t even hold a controller.”

I feel like Ludwig would be very fond of going to interactive museums and like science shows. He likes being able to learn with his son, even if it’s just like seeing pepper get spread to the side of a container of water when you put dish soap in it. He just thinks it’s neat and he loves seeing his son's face when he learns new things.

[butterfingersgutterball]

Deep Space Nine episode idea

Something that's always fascinated me that hasn't been explored in DS9 is Jake Sisko being the one who introduces his dad to Kasidy Yates. I would love an episode similar to TNG’s Data’s Day where Jake learns about love with the DS9 crew, eventually meeting Kasidy leading up to him mentioning her in Explorers (the one where he and Sisko build the solar sailer). Much like Data’s Day, Jake’s Day would focus on an understanding of love from the POV of someone new to it. This wouldn’t be uncharted territory as a theme for Jake--in the early seasons as his relationships with women/girls are contrasted frequently by Nog’s misogyny. The difference in this episode is that Jake would be coached/advised by crew members about love who, after Jake’s questions and probing would admit they are actually failing at romance.  ___ Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. S3E21.2: Worthy Pursuits (between The Die Is Cast and Explorers)___ The teaser starts with a clamour of action in ops, as the crew tries to get a group of people transported from a shuttlecraft that’s about to explode.       Kira is shouting to O’Brien to get a lock on the signal, Dax says they are losing them and offers a technobabble thing to try. Sisko: “DO IT!”       They beam a small group to ops just as the shuttle explodes. They’re a Bajoran family, two dads and their daughter, grateful to have been saved, the camera lingers on a young Brandy Norwood playing the daughter(she’s the same age as Ciroc, hooray for age-appropriate love interests!). Sisko tells them they will have to wait for the next transport to Bajor, and that their team will investigate why the shuttle exploded. "In the meantime, why not join me and my son for dinner tonight?"       The family agrees and we fade to Jake and Bran’Nu (Brandy—I know Bajoran names don’t have apostrophes but it’s one of her pseudonyms so go with it) talking about him being a writer and what the station is like as Sisko cooks and talks to her dads.     Jake gets sombre, “It must have been scary thinking your shuttle was going to explode” he offers her condolences and space to talk about the incident. She says yea but she’s become accustomed to dangerous situations since she and her dads are smugglers. “Our shuttle may have been sabotaged by Cardassians. Ever since the occupation, my dads have been smuggling medical supplies. When the occupation ended a lot of Bajorans were still without vital supplies due to bureaucracy so some of us have taken to redistribution on our own.” She explains how they make enemies and often have to keep moving. Jake says that sounds lonely, and she says yea it is. He says if she wants to she can spend time with him while she’s on the station.      Bran’Nu “are you asking me on a date?”     Jake stumbles and stutters and she says “how about this writer-boy, you write me something to convince me to go on a date before we find transport off the station and I’ll decide based on what you write” “Deal” says Jake.      Sisko invites them to the table and the 5 of them sit when Sisko gets a communication from Odo: “I think you’d better come to my office. Your guests may not be who they say they are.” Opening titles. Jake is working on his writing for Bran’Nu with Miles in the O’Brien’s quarters. He and the chief are discussing girls and love. Keiko is playing with Molly nearby and Jake asks Miles how he knew Keiko had feelings for him. Miles proudly tells a story of a day in Ten Forward on the Enterprise when he brought Keiko a drink and there was a way she looked at him when she said thank you that made him think she wanted to pursue a relationship. Keiko laughs and says that wasn’t a look of admiration, she thought she had smelled him and wondered why he hadn’t had a sonic shower after his shift. Miles gets escalated and defensive (as he does) that his romantic memory is nothing to her. They bicker a little and Keiko redirects to Jake saying there’s no formula to it, people are all so different that we have no way of knowing if we share the same feelings, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth trying or that we should get too bogged down by rejection, we should focus on cultivating open communication, not basing love on our own assumptions (she looks at Miles who huffs but agrees) she continues:        “I was taking lunch with Garak last week—”       Miles: “Garak? You’re doing lunch with Garak now too? First Julian now you with that--”        “Miles!” Keiko stops him and looks at Jake, “Garak might be the perfect person to ask about love, Jake. He has a unique perspective.”     Jake agrees that he will talk to Garak. [B-plot here of Jadzia finding out the smugglers worked with the Cardassians. They bring this info to Sisko, Odo, Kira and the smugglers who insist they are being set up, Kira believes them but Odo doesn’t. Something is off, and Sisko is frustrated that they aren’t telling them everything]. We cut to Bashir and Garak exiting the holosuite in Quarks. They’ve just played a spy holonovel and Garak is complaining about the romantic subplot being bland “not nearly enough antagonism to keep it interesting”. Bashir counters that the evil President provided more than enough antagonism, the romance was a nice reprieve of tenderness, a reminder of why one fights for justice. Garak scoffs “if that sorry display of the women coming out of the water and falling into your lap is what you’re fighting for I can see why we so often land on opposing sides my dear Doctor”. The two take a seat next to Jake who is talking with Quark and Morn at the bar, Morn gets up to leave and Quark is wiping a tear away while talking to Jake, Bashir and Garak “leave it to Morn to have the perfect poem that expresses the depths and nuances of love.” “My my, Quark, I didn’t pin you as the sentimental type,” Bashir says as Quark gets him a drink. “Not sentimental? You cut me, doctor. I happen to regard love above all else! Jake here was asking about love and I was proud to inform the young man, just as all good Ferengi boys are told at his age, don't get too hung up on feeemales, focus on latinum. As the 72nd rule of acquisition: 'the love of profit is the root of all good.'” Sisko enters with Odo behind him, "funny, Quark, on Earth we have a similar saying with a different sentiment" They are clearly here for Quark but he plays it like they aren't. "Well that is perfect Commander, we were just discussing sentimentality, perhaps you and the constable would like to join us? I know under all that goo there's a hopeless romantic!" Odo harumphs and sarcastically mocks Quark, "Another time I'd be delighted to listen to you all prattle on about how your humanoid hearts flutter and your fleshy palms dampen but I am afraid I'm here to make you sweat for another reason." Odo explains Quark is wanted for questioning, he and Sisko take Quark away but not before he puts Rom is in charge of the bar.  [B-plot here of Odo and Sisko finding out how Quark was paid to inform someone of the smuggler's departure from the station. He swears he had no knowledge that they'd be blown up, he tells them he was paid by an old Cardassian Gul, Odo remembers the Gul's name and that there was a rumour he was a Romulan collaborator. Sisko is like “Romulans? Cardassians? Bajorans? Ferengi? Federation? It seems we are all at each other’s throats, each with a knife in one had while pointing fingers with the other! We may not all be able to get along but I’ll be damned if this station becomes a battleground!” Quark snidely, “you mean if the station becomes a battleground again. It’s always been on the brink. You two, you see the big problems, usually before it’s too late. But at the bar, I can see the small changes in the wind, a cool breeze from the smallest comment over drinks can incite chaos.” Odo “with no help from you, I’m sure!” “To the contrary!” Quark is offended “Quarks is also a place filled with love! A first date, a birthday celebration, it’s all around if you know where to look”] Back at the bar, Rom is pouring drinks for Bashir, Garak, and Jake as they are talking about love. Jake explains he is writing something for a girl to convince her to go on a date. Garak, "Human mating rituals will never make sense to me." Bashir raises an eyebrow. Jake, "Well, she's Bajoran actually. And I would say it's more dating than mating..." Rom, looking at Leeta over at the dabo tables "Do you think, or, uh, are you worried about, the uh... differences?" Bashir, "Ah, Interspecies relationships can present ... [he looks at Garak] unique challenges. Have you dated a non-human before, Jake?" “Unique challenges?” Garak asks,  “You know what I mean” Bashir turns attention back to Jake and Garak’s eyes get wide, shocked by Julian’s brazen disregard.  "I mean, this is a Bajoran station." Jake says "most girls here my age aren't human. And besides Barjoran's aren't that different--" "Ignore the Doctor" Garak waves his hand regaining composure, "he overcomplicates things. While I would never encourage a Cardassian to be wed with a non-Cardassian--such a union would be far too messy--a date or a tryst is harmless and can provide invaluable insight into the customs of those around you." "A tryst?" Bashir asks incredulously, "what are you implying?" "Oh please, Doctor," Garak responds, "A short romance can be good for a young man. He needn't get ahead of himself with ideas of love and fantasy or he may miss what is right in front of him." Bashir is straight-faced and annoyed, far to familiar with Garak’s double meanings, "And what you're saying is right in front of him is a 'tryst'?" Rom and Jake look between them awkwardly, this is clearly the bickering of a couple, something is going unsaid. Garak covers his discomfort by standing up, "I am saying, at times it is best to keep things short and sweet lest one introduce confusion. And with that, I will bid my farewell. Thank you for the holonovel [he looks at Bashir] and subsequent conversation [to the others] I found both, [back to Bashir] enlightening."  Bashir chases after him like a desperate boyfriend who said the wrong thing but knows he can patch things up. As Garak and Bashir exit a new face enters and stands next to Jake. "Excuse me," the woman asks Rom "I heard you have holosuites with baseball programs?" It's Kasidy Yates. Her transport ship the Xhosa is docked at DS9  for the next few days and she wanted to try it out. She invites Jake to join her so he can show her the program since he's familiar with it. On their way to the holosuites they see Bran'Nu sitting alone. Jake says hi, asks what she's doing alone, she says her dads are being questioned about the incident so she was just waiting around. Kasidy invites her to join her and Jake in the holosuites, Bran'Nu has never seen baseball before and says it sounds fun. Cut to the three of them in batting cages with Kasidy giving Bran'Nu pointers and Jake operating the pitching machine. Hi-jinx ensue with Bran'Nu being scared of the ball and Jake laughing saying he'll show her how it's done. Kasidy kind of side eyes him and tells Bran'Nu about how human males often take on a machismo attitude when playing sports in order to impress women. Bran'Nu says some Bajoran men are similar. Jake is still in good spirits but is dejected a little. He apologizes and talks about how his dad cautions him about toxic masculinity too. Kasidy says he sounds wise. Jake: "and he likes baseball too! I should introduce you two. He taught me my stance." He gets into his stance ready for the pitch. Bran'Nu has the ball in hand and hovers over it making eye contact with Jake but speaking to Kasidy, "Yeah, I hate to admit it, but I've met a few guys that are alright" She winks and drops the ball into the wheels. Jake is smiling at her obliviously and the ball smacks him in the face making him fall backwards. Bran'Nu rushes over to him apologizing asking if he's okay, he comes up laughing and says yea, the safety precautions are on, he's fine, but he wants to hear more about these guys she likes. She plays it off, "oh that? I was just talking about my dads, like you were." "Right! My dad!" Jake says excitedly looking at Kasidy, "You should meet him!" "I'd love to" says Kasidy, "But my transport ship is leaving to Bajor tomorrow at 0800, so it will have to be another time." Bran'Nu is like "Bajor!? Me and my dads are looking for transport to Bajor, could we come?" Kasidy says yea, they have room for three more.  [cut to her dads in the B-plot, they have no idea why a Romulan would be after them. Cardassians sure, but not Romulans. Through some investigating Jadzia and Kira find out a changeling posed as a Romulan to get the Gul to destroy the shuttle craft. The aim being to incite more fighting between Cardassians, Bajorans and Romulans. By staging the assassination at a Federation station they hoped Starfleet would have to pick sides and even more Alpha quadrant infighting would occur. They find out there are a few changelings in the Alpha quadrant doing these little attempts at destabilization. This builds up to a head in Adversary when a changeling is on the Defiant.] Jake says goodbye to Bran'Nu at the docking rings, they are waiting for her dads and Kasidy. Jake gives her a padd with his writing about why she should go on a date with him she reads it silently. He keeps interrupting her "which part are you at?" "shh" "I didn't get to do much editing" "I'm reading it" "If anything seems off I blame being hit in the head with a baseball yesterday" she laughs at this. Bran'Nu "Humans like kissing, right?" Jake: "I can't speak for the whole human race, but I've enjoyed it in my experiences." Bran'Nu leans in and he leans toward her, they give each other a light small kiss and pull back kind of awkwardly. Jake, “Is something the matter? Does my breath stink?” Bran’Nu “No, no, it’s just...I don't know if I can guarantee  that date. We're different you and I--" "Bajorans and humans aren't that different, we have a lot in common!" "No, not because of that, [she passes the padd back to him] you wrote about so many different people you're friends with, that's really beautiful.  You have a community here. I mean because I'm always moving around with my dads. You're more... [she gestures to the station] stationary." Kasidy and Bran'Nu's dads come by with Jadzia who explains Sisko is tied up in meetings with Starfleet about the whole ordeal so she is here to see them off. Jake tells Kasidy he's going to talk to his dad about her, she says she'd like that. After they leave Jake talks to Jadzia about the moral quandary of the episode: will we every be able to get along across all our differences? Jadzia says over her 300 years, she is sure there will always be conflict, learning to love each other won't ever become easy, but it will always be worth pursuit. [End]

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

hello could i request a matchup for haikyuu, genshin, and star rail?

pronouns: she/they

sexuality: bisexual

mbti/zodiac: intj libra

appearance: short black hair, short to average height, wear glasses, style can be described as comfy casual and occasionally business casual

personality: social introvert, often sarcastic, calm and logical, usually match the vibes of whoever i'm around, ambitious and slightly competitive

likes: science, art, cloudy/stormy weather, tea

dislikes: being bored, bugs, not knowing something

hobbies: sketching and painting, playing the piano, watching horror or sci-fi movies, video editing, roller blading

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like your matchups!

In Haikyuu, I match you with...

Suga likes that you’re logical. He’s surrounded by very chaotic people and, even though he can be quite chaotic himself, it’s nice being around someone who thinks things through.

At the same time, he also really likes that you can match vibes. It’s good that you’re able to get along with his friends but can be calm when needed as well.

While I see Suga as more of a coffee drinker, I think he’d happily drink tea as well. He knows your go-to drink and will bring you a drink whenever you need one.

Definitely into roller blading and would love to go on skating dates with you. He likes visiting new places and skating around them, taking in the new sites together.

Suga will get rid of any bugs for you. He’s not scared of them and would do anything to make sure you feel comfortable.

In Genshin Impact, I match you with...

You and Tighnari are the sarcastic duo everyone needs! You’re always shooting off quips at each other and the people around you. But neither of you doubt the bond between you.

He admires your ambitious nature. It’s a trait that many people don’t have and for him to be in a relationship with someone, he needs to know they have a strong drive.

Science is definitely going to bond you two to start with. Tighnari is more than happy to have you tag along on his forays into the forest and will value your opinion on different topics.

Going on treks through the forest with him will also help prevent you from being bored. And Tighnari is delighted to have your company on missions that can often be very tiresome.

He has to sketch a lot of things for his work but since you like sketching as well, he would like to be able to draw with you beside him, comparing sketches at the end.

In Honkai Star Rail, I match you with...

Dan Heng loves that you're more on the calm side of things. He already deals with a lot of chaotic people on a daily basis so you’re a breath of fresh air.

Not knowing things is something he dislikes as well so Dan Heng’s door is always open if you want to look into a new topic. He’d love to talk about things with you as well to broaden your combined knowledge.

Loves sci-fi movies! There’s just something about them that draws him in and keeps him hooked the whole time.

Dan Heng might not be the most creative person but he’ll read up on art since he knows it’s an interest for you. He wants to be able to engage in your interests to show that he cares.

I don’t see Dan Heng as someone who has a favourite type of weather. But he can’t deny that cloudy or stormy weather is perfect for staying inside and researching. And when you’re there with him, it’s even better.

[momo-t-daye]

For the ask game: 3, 18, 19, 26 👀👀👀

Thank you for the ask~!

3.) Can you describe your AU badly?  (Because I do love hilariously misleading but not actually inaccurate descriptions of stories)

Just because Severus’ best friend sorted into Slytherin with him and he’s basically friends with the Marauders, doesn’t mean he's going to make good life choices.

and/or

"That escalated quickly"

18.) Does Voldemort exist in your AU?  Does Severus join his cause at any point in your AU?

Oh yes, Voldy exists in my self-indulgent AU! Partly because it’s fun to inflict awful small children on wannabe evil overlords trying to schmooze and partly because a great deal of the canon narrative inertia comes from Voldy and I enjoy how the element of choices etc. can (or cannot) change the story trajectory. The DE as a cult interpretation is particularly interesting to work with (and maybe I think evil villain hubris makes funny noises when jostled and upturned inadvertently by terrible small children).

19.) Does Dumbledore exist in your AU?  What role does he play in Severus’ life in your AU?

Yup!  Dumbles exists in my AU and plays a reasonably similar role in Sev’s life, although I suppose changes in Tobias alters Sev’s attitude towards any replacement father figures. Dumbledore says “Severus, please" on a regular basis, but it tends to be followed by something like "Stop", "No.", "You don’t have to escalate this situation." , "Not every conversation has to be a competition." etc. etc.  If Albus D. could bring himself to interact with Lulu and Cissy, they might find a lot in common… at least on the subject of failed attempts at housebreaking a feral Cokeworth disaster.

26.) Does Severus have any major interests (mycology, astronomy, sci-fi, baking elaborate puff pastries, art forgery, etc.) in your AU that we never got to see canon!Snape indulge in?  Do these interests play a major narrative role?

I am very very fond of giving AU!Sev an interest in space exploration and sci-fi partly because the timing of the first moon landing and when the BBC started airing Star Trek happened before he went to Hogwarts and those sorts of things seem like they would appeal to a kid growing up in a nowhere town like Cokeworth (also, if Purebloods don’t believe in the moon landing and think the concept of a heliocentric solar system is hilariously heretical, that can humorously irritate a Severus who likes to be correct and right and has a logical sort of mind). It does play a narrative role, because I find it interesting that Astronomy is a required core class, the Ancient and Noble House of Black has such a propensity for stellar names, and Divination and the appearance of planets are plot features- so perhaps harbingers and omens in the sky should have a bit more weight in the magical world. There were some spectacular comets in the 70s and, well, anyone here remember Hale-Bopp? My AU!Sev also knows lots of fun facts about parasitology, maybe it was to gross out Tuney, maybe he wanted to be a healer, maybe because someone had to introduce the concept of Cymothoa exigua to Harry’s nightmares, maybe because it’s a great way to speed-run “small talk”, y’know!

[scrapsovereign]

That One Time I Got Kidnapped By An Evil Vampire Lord Ch. 2

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57838303/chapters/147393754#workskin

Summary: To say that Mackenzie's day starts off on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. A stranger shows up at her work and is about to make her day a lot more interesting.

Pairings: past Ascended Astarion x Evil male!Tav, Ascended Astarion x Original Female Character

Trigger warnings/Tags: cheating, intimate partner violence, abusive relationships, medical settings, body shaming, internalized fatphobia

Renton Highlands, Washington  

Thursday, August 21rst 

8:30 AM 

“What’s the deal with Nurse Brad? He blood sugar shamed me, which I think was low-key fat-shaming,” Mackenzie complains, her mouth full of breakfast sandwich. “I’m getting bro podcast vibes from him,” she says out one side of her mouth as she chews her food with the other.

She reaches into Rob’s cup holder and takes a sip of the Annihilator she’d ordered from Dutch Bros. She takes a moment to savor the taste of 6 espresso shots, half and half, and white chocolate macadamia nut while Rob finishes chewing to say his piece.

“Lo-ki? I need the Thor-ough details- ohwhoathere!” Rob’s eyes go wide at the Tesla that almost side-swiped his Subaru Outback as he drives down the road to Mac’s.

“He said that if I went paleo and went to his CrossFit gym my A1C wouldn’t be so bad. Like excuse me, I’m on my feet all day already, and today’s the first time in weeks I’ve had fast food and a fancy coffee drink. Oh! And that I need to start reframing my paradigm to embody a ‘high value female’,” Mac rants, imitating the tone of voice Brad used with her earlier. “What does that even mean?!”

“I hate it when dudes say ‘females’,” Rob says, letting his long, salt and pepper brown hair down from its bun. 

“Right? It's so Ferengi-coded. Like, try me again when you have the latinum, small-ears…you haven’t got the lobes,” Mackenzie snickers, Rob utterly lost on what Star Trek deep lore she’s referencing.

“Is that the Star Track? What do they say, ‘Live long and let the force be with you’?” He says with a mischievous grin, turning down Mackenzie’s street.

Mackenzie sighs, taking another long sip of her coffee drink to hide her annoyance. “Yep. And also with you,” she says, deadpan. 

Rob pulls up on the side of the street across from the house she rents with Ari and turns the car off, squinting at her driveway. “Whose car is that?” 

Mac feels that all-knowing lump inside her gut solidify as she sets eyes on her car beside the other in the driveway.

“That’s Ari’s friend Jasmine, they met at ECCC this year,” Mac says blandly, taking another bite of her half-finished breakfast sandwich. 

It turns to ash in her mouth.

She gulps it down, wrapping up the other half and shoving it into her work backpack. Hopefully she’ll remember to eat it on the way back to work. 

Her phone buzzes in her hands- it’s her boss, Amanda.

“Hey-“

“Are you okay? How are you feeling? Are you still there? Do you need someone to come get you?” Amanda blurts out in a run-on sentence.

Mackenzie’s throat feels tight contemplating Amanda’s concern for her. 

Rob’s attention perks up from his phone. “Is that A-man-da Hug n��� kiss?!” He asks excitedly.

“Is that Bobbertina I hear? Heeeeeey Bobby boy!” She shouts, her voice easily heard through the phone’s speaker.

“You know, you can do this over text, or the D and D sessions where you see each other every week,” Mackenzie says flatly, watching Rob shake his head.

“Nah, it wouldn’t hit the same, you know? Hey, so, how you feelin’ Mac? Should we see you tomorrow?” Amanda asks, offering Mac the out if she wants to take the day off. 

Mac sighs wearily, rubbing her forehead. “Nah…I’m coming in. I don’t have any PTO left for a full day. Probably about 10 at the latest?” 

“Hmmm…if you’re sure…okay. Dr. Anderson called off, so it’s inbasket hell- I mean, fun for you today. I’ll help cover until you get in,” Amanda says proudly, her car door closing in the background of the call. 

Mackenzie feels a chill come over her- Amanda working in anything else other than her nurse triage inbasket is a nightmare. 

She’d better get to work before Amanda makes too much of a mess in there.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you then,” Mac says lamely. She likes her unhinged grand-millennial manager, but always feels awkward wrapping up a conversation with her.

“Okay, see you soon!” Amanda exclaims before ending the call. 

Mackenzie slumps in the car, closing her eyes for a moment to steady the flip-flopping of her stomach. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home?” Rob asks, his brow furrowed in worry. “Ari’s home, he could help take care of you.”

“No…he’s streaming today and I don’t want to impose on him…” Mac slides further down in the seat, hoping that it renders her invisible. 

Rob’s jaw tenses, his fingers tap on the steering wheel. “You’re too nice. He’s supposed to do that for you, you know that, right? Sickness and health and all that?” He states to the road ahead of them, turning to look Mac in the eyes.

“I do,” Mac sniffles, fidgeting with a straw wrapper in her hands. “It’s funny. I spent all night wishing he would reach out and now I don’t want to go inside and see him. Or talk to him.”

Rob sits quietly with her, allowing her the space to feel her grief as it permeates the silence between them. 

“Kim said they couldn’t find anything wrong,” Mac says after a few moments, unable to tolerate the intensity of her unspoken sadness any longer. “She thought that maybe I was pregnant, but my HCG was negative and nothing showed up on the imaging. Which is fine, I don’t think I could take care of a kid right now.”

“I agree, one kid is enough,” Rob observes, curling into a ball, his gangly limbs shielding himself from the straw wrapper that hits him in the face. 

“Hmmph! Give not into anger, for that is the path to the dark side! Much fear I sense in you, young Skywalker.” He exclaims in his best Yoda impression. “But no really, Maccy. You’ve gotta be having some big feelings, you have health stuff going on, and you need some support. Have you tried to explain how you feel to him with your ‘I messages’?”

Mac huffs a laugh, wishing it was that easy. “You think I haven’t? Nursing school Jedi Mind tricks don't work.”

“Have faith in the force, padawan,” Rob says dreamily, switching to his rather good Obi Wan Kenobi impression.

“Listen. I did that when I went full motivational interviewing interrogation mode on him after he gave me COVID the first time. He said I’d picked it up from work, but then I found out about Sara, and that he got it from her and gave it to me because they were…you know.”

“I…” Rob flexes his arms, rolls his neck to the side to stretch it. “I know you’ve forgiven him, but I haven’t,” he states evenly, quietly. A sign that Mac knows he’s angry. 

Mac unintentionally twists the ring on her finger as he mentions it. “Yep, that’s…yep. Well, if anything we’ll have a chance to talk about it tonight when he wants to bang and I have to explain why we can’t. I should probably head on in and get cleaned up. Thanks for letting me crash in that empty stock room after I got discharged.”

Rob yawns and nods, leaning over the seat to give Mackenzie a tight hug. 

“No problem, facilities owed me a favor. Anything for you, anytime. You need help inside?” His brows pitch upwards, ready to spring into action. 

Mackenzie winces as she gathers her things, opening the car door, seeing it scrape on the brown grass of the curb.

“I’ll be fine,” she smiles. She’s lying to him.

Rob smiles back and turns the key in the ignition. He knows.

Mackenzie trudges to the door, goes to open the lock, but feels no resistance. She opens the door quietly, mindful of the background audio that might pick up on his stream. 

She steps over the craft foam and fabric, pins and half-finished garments as she makes her way to the kitchen table. She lets out a heavy sigh in disapproval when she sees the cookie sheet that lies directly on it littered with bagel bites, half-eaten and grown cold.

She has her work backpack almost empty when she hears the sounds of two voices moaning together, one male, the other female.

A wave of nausea surges through her, her limbs going numb.

No. That can’t be it. He’s not cheating on her with Jasmine in their bed. Mac is just being crazy again. He’s probably just watching porn. Yeah…Ari’s just taking a break from streaming Minecraft speedruns to jerk it, it’s not the first time he’s done it.

Her guts ache, a ripple of deep knowing washing over her so strongly it almost knocks her over. It helps her remember Jasmine’s car is still in the driveway, helps her see the line of discarded clothing in the hall... 

“Mmm, Ari…you fuck my pussy so good, ” the female voice echoes from the bedroom door.

Mackenzie has to be hearing things. 

Yes, it’s just an intrusive thought, she’s more than likely going crazy and hearing things others can’t hear. It would make sense- she’s sleep deprived, not feeling well, and she’s in pain. She’s just losing it, she didn’t actually hear anything, she’s imagining things.

That is, until she hears it again, accompanied by a rapid cacophony of combined moans and wet flesh slapping together.

“Yes, Ari…yes just like that…I’m gonna fucking cum on your dick daddy, ooohhhh…Ariiiiiii… ”

“That tight little hole feels so good, Jas! Cum for me, cum for daddy… ”

The floorboards creak underneath her feet as Mac tries to stealth down the hall, giving her presence away. 

Mac takes a deep breath or five to still her pounding heart. 

“Get dressed Jas, I think Kenz is home… ”

Ari’s panicked instructions all but confirm what her intuition is telling her. It did the same when she had caught him in the act with Hayleigh, a 16 year old fan that he’d brought to their hotel room at PAX last year. Mac recalls with deep shame that Ari had almost successfully gaslit her into thinking the whole thing didn’t happen. Ari might have gotten away with it if Hayleigh’s father hadn't shown up at their door 2 months later, angry as hell and demanding $750 to cover the cost of her termination.

She walks quietly towards the hall closet, opening the door carefully, pulling her go-bag out that her therapist insisted she make. 

She wraps her tingling hand around the master bedroom door, making a mental checklist of the additional contents in her room she needs to grab, keeping her mind busy to forget the sudden urge to vomit all over the floor.

The open door reveals Ari and Jas, but not in the position she expected to find them. She takes stock of what she sees, trying to ground herself in the facts. 

Ari and Jas are sitting on the bed next to each other against the headboard, disheveled and flushed, wearing what could be interpreted as sleepwear. They’re an odd pair. Jas is a tiny thing that couldn’t be taller than five feet and some change and a hundred pounds soaking wet, Ari being a few inches over six feet tall and built like a comic book hero-well, a retired one. He had a bit of a gut and some fat under his chin that he’s self conscious of.

If she had only given Ari a brief glance, he would pass her inspection with flying colors. He’s been known to walk around the house with only gym shorts on. The sight of his broad, naked chest with the slight bit of a tum hanging over the elastic waist isn’t suspicious. 

The pillow he has on his crotch is, though. 

So is the musky, slightly fishy odor of sex lingering in the air. 

Mac notices Jas’ long black hair has been pulled into a tight, hasty ponytail. Her small, slender body is slick with what she thinks is sweat even though the shirt of Ari’s she has on is dry. Her dark eye makeup around her jade eyes is smeared in streaks down her face. 

Mac then turns her scrutinizing gaze back towards Ari. He beams at Mac with his ice blue eyes, sweeping back his bleach blonde hair to show its mousy brown roots, putting his muscular, trembling arm on display. 

“Oh…ah, hey there Kenz. Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to work?” He inquires with his SoCal accent (that he claims isn’t an accent), his thumb drumming on the pillow he has atop his lap.

“Yes,” Mackenzie says calmly as she desperately tries to keep her shit together, “Usually I am.” She throws extra clothes into the bag unceremoniously, turning sharply to grab her ADHD meds out of the bathroom.

“Kenz…it’s good to see you,” Jas calls politely from where she’s perched on the bed. 

Mackenzie ignores her, looking down at the bathroom trash can briefly. 

It’s clean for once, after two months of reminding Ari to take it out.

Interesting.

“Is it?” Mackenzie asks, her eyebrows raised, her voice pitching up to a squeak.

“Why would you say that babe?” Ari asks, swallowing thickly. 

Mackenzie stares at him, emotionless. 

“Look, you guys,” she starts, zipping up her pack, throwing it over her shoulders. “It’s pretty clear what was going on before I came in.”

“We…we were uh, just waking up,” Jas stammers. “Ari was about to start streaming and I was going to keep working on our cosplays,” she says playfully, twirling her ebony hair idly with her long, manicured nails.

Nails that match the welt marks forming on Ari’s shoulders. 

“Gotta rise and grind, huh?” Mac snarks, her voice catching in her throat. 

She looks at her bedside alarm- she’s lingered too long, she’s going to be more than a few minutes late if she doesn’t leave for work now.

“You know it babe! ‘The Might Way is the right way’,” Ari smirks, parroting the way he says his catchphrase from his stream. 

“I’m sure it is,” Mackenzie clips out as tears sting the corners of her eyes. She makes her way out of the bedroom, the fibers of the tan carpet crushed underneath the stomping of her feet.

“Kenz,” Ari calls out as Mac walks swiftly down the hallway, ignoring him. “Kenz!”

She grabs her keys and her work bag, ready to walk out the door when his large, calloused hand grabs around her wrist.

“Hey. What’s going on? You didn’t come home last night,” Ari asks, his voice low and soft. 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I was in the ER,” Mac snaps, wrenching her hand away from him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?,” he furrows his brow in worry, reaching up to cup the side of her face with care. “Why didn’t you text or call?”

Mackenzie flinches, pulling away.

“I could ask why you didn’t do the same. You know, I had been in the ER alone for almost four hours when I saw you replied with kissy heart faces to Jas after she’d tweeted about coming over,” she counters. 

“You’re acting crazy,” he coos, brushing his thumbs that smell like somebody’s else’s genitals against her cheekbones. “It’s just an emoji, it doesn’t mean what you think.”

A strong wave of nausea rips through Mackenzie- she really is going to vomit all over her husband if she doesn’t leave now. She backs away from him and opens the front door to leave.

Mac pauses and turns around to look Ari dead in his arctic blue eyes.

“You know what? This is stupid. Ari, I heard you and Jas when I came home. I know why you didn’t check on me. You were so busy fucking Jas you didn’t even think about me, where I was. You know where I slept last night until Rob was done with his shift?” she rasps, wiping away the fat tears that drip down her cheeks. “A closet. I slept in a storage closet with a pile of musty hospital blankets while you screwed and slept in our bed! Rob had to bring me home-“

“Rob brought you home ? You’re cheating on me with him, aren’t you?” Ari recoils in disgust.

Mackenzie shakes her head, so angry with him she’s unable to think of a reply she won’t regret later. 

“I have to go to work. At least I’m getting paid to get fucked over when I’m there,” she sobs out, barely able to see the sidewalk as tears stream down her face, power-walking to her ancient Toyota Camry. 

“Wait, Kenz, please,” Ari whines, following her to the driveway as she tosses her bags unceremoniously in the car and pauses to hear him say his piece. 

“What are we doing for dinner?” He asks like he hadn’t just accused her of cheating on him.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Mackenzie curses under her breath, slamming the door, turning the ignition and peeling out of the driveway faster than her sedan was built to do.

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she sees Ari chase after her car barefoot down the street in nothing but his gym shorts, so she does both.

…until she sees her check engine and her gas light flicker on.

Downtown Seattle, Washington  

Mercy West Medical Group Primary Care Clinic

Thursday, August 24th 

10:30 AM

“Hey boss, I’m here- what happened to you?” Mackenzie’s eyes rake over the crime scene of a nurse manager.

Amanda closes her eyes tightly shut as she tips her head back, holding pressure to a nose stuffed with cotton balls that had dripped blood into her mask. 

“So…we had a walk-in for chest pain…no insurance, of course, not our patient. And so I figure I’ll just grab him, do a quick EKG, make sure he’s not dying,” she gestures with her free hand. 

“When I go to grab him and take him back…Mackenzie Elizabeth Eriksson, with the Flying Spaghetti Monster as my witness, I didn’t think the anime thing of having a nosebleed was real,” she nasally groans, changing hands to continue holding pressure. “I was today years old when I learned it was real.”

“Did you get vitals? Does he still need an EKG?” Mac inquires smoothly, positively dead inside. She prays to whoever’s listening that Amanda can’t tell.

“Yeah, orders are in, machine’s in there. He’s in room 7. His name’s Rion Ahncooneen. Ankhunin? I didn’t ask him how to say it, you get the idea. And uhh Maccy? You might wanna prepare yourself for this one. You ever seen Labyrinth?” Amanda side-eyes her, lifting the tissue to check and see if her bleeding has stopped.

“A long time ago, why?” Mac asks, all business as she writes his name and exam room on a sticky note, her gut tingling in an odd way she can’t explain.

“You…uhm. You’ll see what I mean. I didn’t think people that pretty existed in real life, but here we are,” she chuckles, tipping her head back again. “Hey, you alright?” 

Mac cringes at being called out. Of course Amanda can tell she’s upset. She can always tell.

“No, and if I start talking about it, I’m going to start crying and I won’t be able to stop,” Mac sets down her personal and her work bag on the chairs in her boss’ office, grabbing her stethoscope. 

Amanda eyes her go bag with somber recognition.

“I’m here for you, Cheesy. Anything you need. I have a copy of my house key in my desk- top right drawer. You can take the spare bedroom, I’ll wash the sheets and everything-“

Amanda must really be serious if she’s calling her Cheesy, the name Mac had received from an angry patient while they worked together at urgent care during the early days of the pandemic. Mac gives her a quick side hug in reply, avoiding her eyes, and marches down the hall, catching a generous glob of hand sanitizer foam when she reaches halfway there.

She opens the exam room door, rubbing sanitizer over hands that don’t feel like they belong to her, putting her best patient care game face on. 

“Hi, I’m Mackenzie, I’m one of the medical assistants here. I’m going to get an…an…” Mackenzie’s brain shorts out, her stuttering words robbed of her as she stares at the shirtless man in the exam room. 

Amanda calling him pretty is the understatement of the century.

The corners of his eyes tug up at her with a cocked eyebrow. He leans back on the exam table where he sits, playfully puffing out his hairless, smooth, perfect tits as if on purpose. 

Oh no. He knows he’s pretty. 

Mac exhales, annoyed at his preening. He’s one of those. Great. Just…great. 

She rakes her eyes over him critically; down to the slender, cut muscles of his abdomen and back up to the sharp, delicate features of his face covered by the blue surgical mask.

This is a man who takes great care in his appearance, unlike Ari. His skin practically glows in the fluorescent light of the exam room. His short nails are impeccably manicured with a layer of clear polish, his silver brows shaped to perfection, with a hint of kohl lining his eyes. His black lightweight woolen trousers hug his waist perfectly. She eyes the crisp white linen shirt that hangs on the door with a blazer that matches his pants- they probably cost as much as her rent. 

“Yes darling, you were saying?” he states airily in a posh British accent that sounds like silk velvet would feel, carding an elegant hand through his impossibly perfect, long silver waves. 

“EKG. Yep. What’s your name and birthday?” She requests, flipping the machine screen up to put in the information. 

“Rion Ancunìn. October,” he pauses to think about it, his head tilted to the side. “October the fourth…1983.”

Huh, a Libra. That explains the pompous airs he puts on. 

“Birthday’s coming up soon. Any plans for the big 4-0?” She inquires with empty interest. 

“You could say that,” he drawls flirtatiously. “Nothing set in stone as of yet, but I suppose a bit of hedonistic debauchery might be in order for the occasion.”

Mackenzie pauses and blinks after she takes out the leads and alcohol swabs from the machine, reflecting on the phrase ‘hedonistic debauchery’. She’d more or less grown up under a rock, she doesn’t know the first thing about what that’s supposed to be. She’s dying to know more, but isn’t a question like that inappropriate?

Mac’s impulsivity wins. “I might regret asking this, but what does ‘hedonistic debauchery’ entail?”

“It’s better experienced than described,” he purrs seductively, giving her a once over with half-lidded eyes.

Mac almost starts laughing. 

Is this guy hitting on her? Is he fucking for real?

“Sounds like it’s different than the usual board games and beer that’s popular ‘round these parts,” she chuckles politely. 

“I’m going to have you lay down for me,” Mac instructs, avoiding his gaze that follows her as she comes closer to him. She pulls out the table extension, turning her back briefly to sanitize her hands and put gloves on. 

When she turns around he’s watching her keenly, like a cat would observe a mouse. 

Like she’s his prey.

“And you’re not going to join me? Pity,” he pouts, looking at her out of the side of his keen ruby eyes as Mac chokes on her own spit from his remark. 

She tears open the alcohol wipes and he hums as she quickly swipes them across his left ribcage. Touching him feels like playing Russian roulette with an electric fence, her nervous system sending lightning rods of electricity down to her core. She fans him with the plastic card that houses the electrode tabs to dry the alcohol and he groans. HE GROANS. 

“That feels rather nice. Are you looking for a job? Because I could pay you to do that all…day…long,” he drawls, his eyes closing in bliss. She feels a hot flush creep up her chest, a bead of sweat dripping down her back. 

She quickly assembles the leads with shaky, fumbling  hands, her brow furrowed in concentration as she hovers her finger over the button to run the test.

“I need you to relax for just a moment,” she says monotonously, feeling another bead of sweat run down her back.

“Difficult to do when a pretty thing such as yourself is near, but I’ll give it a go,” he smirks roguishly underneath the blue mask that covers his face, giving her a sly wink. 

Mac feels her whole body tense and ache as she watches the lines turn green on the machine. 

She presses the button to capture and print out the report. She should set some boundaries with him. She should tell him that was inappropriate. She’s pretty sure too that there’s a policy about this kind of thing, not that she’d ever had to look it up.

So why do her guts tell her that the attention from him feels right? Why do they beg for more? 

A flood of shame washes over Mackenzie from head to toe. Her sex drive had been dead for almost a year and a half, so what is it about this stranger that’s made it come alive so inconveniently? Why is her body betraying her like this? Can’t she stay in control of herself? 

While Ari had incorrectly guessed she was cheating on him with Rob, had he been able to accurately detect that she would have feelings like this for another?

The tears she’d held back successfully return at the thought of Ari enduring what he has made her suffer, flooding her eyes and fogging up her eye protection. 

No, no, no. She’d done so good holding her shit together for the last 15 minutes she’s been here! She’s not crying in front of a patient…

A warm, strong hand reaches out to grip hers with care. She looks up to see Rion sitting up on the edge of the table, his eyebrows soft over his gorgeous sparkling eyes. 

“What’s troubling you, pet?” He coaxes, rubbing his thumb in reassuring circles over the back of her hand. 

Try as she may, a waterfall from her eyes streams down her face, soaking her mask as they run down in a steady river. 

“I’ve had a pretty bad day,” She explains vaguely, tearing the sheet off to show the on-call MD.

“Obviously. It must be something truly horrid to upset you so,” Rion chuckles, one of his hands coming up to trace a knuckle down the side of her tear-soaked face.

Mackenzie casts her eyes downward, fat tears pooling in the clear plastic of her eye protection as she nods with a sniffle. 

A knock at the door startles her, reflexively moving a footstep away from him.

“Everything okay in here?” Amanda asks nonchalantly as she lays eyes on a shirtless Rion, her mask hiding the lecherous smile Mac knows she wears underneath.

“Yeah, I was just getting ready to show it to Dr.Calloway,” Mac sniffles. 

Amanda takes the EKG tracing and pushes a pretend pair of glasses further up her face like an anime character, humming as she looks the sheet of paper over. “I think you’ll be fine sir- are you still having symptoms?”

“The healing touch of your lovely colleague has cured me,” he confirms, giving Mackenzie’s hand a squeeze. 

Another bead of sweat runs down Mackenzie’s back as she tries to pull her hand away.

He holds her firmly in his grasp.

Amanda’s eyes squint at Rion, at Mackenzie, and at their joined hands.

“I think we can get unhooked and dressed. It looks normal to me, but I’m just going to run everything by our on call doc just to make sure you’re safe to be released into the wild,” Amanda advises, closing the door behind her. “I’ll be right back.”

Rion lets go of Mackenzie and she goes right into autopilot, unhooking the leads with practiced ease. 

“I think my husband’s cheating on me again,” she blurts out, the confession spilling at the impulse of her traitorous gut.

“Oh dear. Do you have a lawyer?” he inquires softly, Mackenzie shaking her head in reply. 

“Would you like one?” He hops off the exam table, taking a card out of a smooth metal case, presenting it to her with a flourish.

“Astarion Ancunìn

Attorney at Law”

She looks it over, turning the card stock in her hands.

Astarion’s an unusual name. She imagines it got him teased or bullied as a kid, no wonder he goes by Rion. She finds it interesting the card doesn’t have any contact information on it. It looks custom-pressed, the paper has a good heft to it, and she can detect the smallest hint of fragrance through her mask. 

“I don’t know if I could afford your services,” she says dejectedly. “And I don’t know if I want to get divorced just yet. I feel like we could still work things out, I still love him,” she explains, her eye protection fogging up as she speaks.

“Oh, my sweet. Look at me,” he raises her chin up, his eyes darting back and forth to search her own despite the barrier of plastic and condensation between them. “Love, true love is not self-sustaining. It is a choice, and one must make that choice every day. It takes dedication, sacrifice, hard work…mutual effort from the parties involved. Honesty. Clear, effective communication.” 

His hand drops and he turns away from Mac, slipping the fine linen shirt on, buttoning it up with nimble fingers. 

“Speaking of being clear- I would hate to mislead you. I fear that I am not a divorce attorney. My legal specialty is rather, shall we say, unique? That being said, I dabble in a few areas that are relevant to your…situation.” He shrugs on the coat of his impeccably tailored suit. “Join me for a drink tonight? We can continue this discussion in a more…appropriate setting. Think of it as an informal consultation of sorts.”

Mackenzie fidgets with the card in her hands nervously. He looks like he has champagne tastes, and all she has in her go bag is an extra set of scrubs, underwear, handmade linen shorts and a t-shirt. “I don’t know if I have anything to wear…ah!”

She cries out in surprise as Rion’s hands shoot out towards her and pull the royal blue fabric of her scrub top taut at the sides.

“What’s your dress and shoe size?” He murmurs his question, holding her at arm’s length to analyze her frame and the shape of her curves.

“Depending on who makes it, anywhere from a 16 to a 20, shoes are always an 8.5,” she grouses, ashamed of how much weight she’s gained in the last few years.

Rion tsks in what Mac fears is disapproval at her larger body size. “A pity that women’s sizing remains inconsistent across the realms. No matter. You close at 5pm, correct?” Mackenzie confirms his assumption with a nod.

“I’ll have the appropriate attire delivered to you by then. The address of where we are to meet will be included with the garments.” He sweeps her hands up to his mouth covered by the disposable mask on his face, lingering a moment too long as he presses his lips to them.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, darling.”

Mackenzie stares dumbly into space as he exits the room and disappears, the realization of what she just agreed to crashing down upon her. 

[avese23]

Can’t deal with people who act all personally aggrieved that they can’t personalize the entire internet to their personal happy place. Especially people who then go out looking for things to get mad at

(This isn’t about people venting about trolls or harassment. It sucks. I’m sorry. Fuck bullies and bigots. This also isn’t about flash warnings, and anything that keeps people with epilepsy safe)

But like, it’s not other people’s job to read your mind and guess what hyperspecific trigger you have then manually tag everything for one person. I’ve seen people ask creators to tag images with the character their blog is about. Just block the blog. That’s not a safe blog for you.

It’s not other people’s job to explain that fucked up shit in fiction is not real. You’re not a child and we’re not your parents here to hold your hand and reassure you that the actor is only playing dead.

I think a good example of effective content warnings is Hazbin. They’re not gonna put one up every individual episode to tell you a show full of swearing and gore is gonna have swearing and gore. But episode 4 is more graphic than any other episode so it’s given a separate warning. Because someone signing up for the rest of the episodes might genuinely be taken aback by that one.

Or Hashtag Ruthless Productions always putting heavy topics in their politics section. Asking for a warning every episode would be silly when you can just skip the politics section. You know it’s gonna be venting and politics. So don’t be surprised when it’s about politics. But if they talk about dark topics that aren’t typically brought up in that fandom they do give warning. For instance most people wouldn’t expect a discussion about eating disorders when the hosts talk about the cult in Wayward Son. Or a spoiler for Star Trek in a podcast about Buffy. So *then* it makes sense.

It’s social kindness and being stewardess to recognize when you as a creator are putting out something unexpectedly and objectively shocking to people who didn’t consent to it. It’s not other people’s job however, to use common sense for you. Or to read your mind. Don’t click on a video about a movie and get mad at spoilers for that mobile. Don’t read the Bible and get mad about major character death (Christian’s don’t come after me with a ‘well actually’ I haven’t read it 😭)

Speaking of Christianity if you’re someone who gets mad at Christian’s being upset by goths wearing crosses (which is silly) but then get upset by what people are writing about your blorbos on ao3 you might wanna do some soul searching.

So no I don’t care about your DNI list. No I don’t care that you only want virgos to reblog your post about Home Depot. No I don’t care that you can’t tell the difference between an anime character and a person, between real life and a plot point, between internet drama and an actual crime. I find that dude from Friends ugly af to that point I cringe but I’m not gonna go harass fandom accounts or look up every bad thing the characters done and accuse blogs of being bad people. I don’t like a lot of ATLA ships and think both Zutara and Kataang are morally gross af but I’m not gonna say the writers or the fans are sympathizing with pedophilia or abuse. Cuz that’s ridiculous.

When I publish works I’m gonna make it clear what kind of story it is. And then I’m gonna step back and tell the fucking story. I’m not gonna pop up every other chapter to warn people that a gay character calls another gay character a fag affectionately. Or a character in a toxic relationship *shocker* is having a bad time. I’m not gonna tell people that the horror work has gore and a jump scare. It’s horror.

Cuz I’m not gonna infantilize my audience and trust that they can set their own boundaries when it comes to stories they want to consume. No one is forcing them.

Media isn’t sex you don’t have to check in with every escalation. Entertainment isn’t your textbook, Phillip Schuyler is allowed to have no sons. A character isn’t your child they’re allowed to wear what they want and go on dangerous ass quests.

It’s frustrating being told to choose between assholes who project their own privilege onto others and assholes who project their own trauma onto others. Nuance exists.

Now block me dear lord, you’re doing the inventor of the block button a disservice when you get off on being pissed off

[hopecomesbacktolife]

so I rewatched this episode recently and I am now Thinking Some Thoughts TM about The Librarians season 2 episode 9 And The Happily Ever Afters

namely, I was thinking about how I feel like there’s been discussions about the general plot, admiration for the funny bits and Fleve moments (as there should be!) a general appreciation for the overarching plot of the episode, how it’s compelling that they turn away from their “happily ever after” or, as Ariel put it, “their heart’s desire” right? and, while I’m sure we could even discuss whether these AU lives shown in the episode would really be these characters’ most secret, deepest wishes, given what we know about them—

I want to set that aside for a minute and really think about the premise. Ariel was saying that no human has ever been able to turn their back on that willingly, right? and my first thought was some abstract idea— humans being unable to turn their backs on true love, on the person they want to be with, or perhaps on the job they want most, or even something like having their own peaceful home, right?

but then I thought, okay, what would this be for me? My deepest desire, the thing that makes my heart ache with yearning— is it belonging? love? What would it actually look like to have the offer of your wildest hopes to be real, and to, for the good of the world and to save you and your friends’ (and the entire world) lives, to walk away from that?

and it’s that last bit of the question that really stopped me in my tracks because. and I don’t know if this is just because I’ve been thinking of STIV a lot recently, but. really? truly? if we’re being honest? deepest, fiercest desire? thing I would long for most in the world? fictitious alternate life that would be hardest to give up as it constitutes a happy ending? like, for me, that’s a Star Trek world, no question even about it. A hopeful optimistic future where humanity is among the stars, racism, sexism, homophobia, human xenophobia, and other forms of bigotry have been virtually eliminated, everyone’s basic needs are met and we’re no longer seeing constant and insidious human rights violations? humanity come together to create an equitable, fair, good world for all that has done away with money and everyone’s needs are met, medical care is free, incredibly accessible, and available to all, people are free to pursue their interests with no capitalistic control upon them, we’ve reached the stars and are caring for our earth, each other, and making friendships with new species?

like, ough. It’s Gillian Taylor being able to come with Kirk and crew back to the 23rd century and live there, you know? It’s that scene in Diane Duane’s TNG novel Dark Mirror where [redacted] is in awe at the prime universe’s wondrous hope and equality and loveliness! it’s The ultimate fantasy, this post-scarcity post-bigotry equitable utopia, you know?

If I was stuck in a life AU like the others in the show, I’m almost certain it would be being put into Star Trek. and I just. can you imagine, being placed into a Star Trek life, and then being asked to give that up, to save the world? how do you give up a future beyond hatred, beyond bigotry, beyond systemic inequalities and oppression and war and capitalistic medical systems and. and. how in hell could someone give that up? how is saving the world the very giving up of the better-future-dream made real, made tangible? when saving the world is somehow going back to the one that seems Worse, where we’re still dealing with all of these hates and bigotries and money-originated-violences? how is that saving the world? and, to be selfish, to give up a world free of homophobia, with instantly available medical care?

I just. god, with the self-reinforcing nature of the AU life spell I just. I don’t know if I’d be able to give it up. Would anyone be able to convince me that it’s not real? And even if, somewhere in my heart of hearts, I know that it isn’t real, that I’d been stuck into a materialized Star Trek AU that isn’t real life… could I give that up? to be completely serious, you know, envisioning that as a real life situation… could I truly look at that life, and say yes, this is exactly what I want, in this life I would never be denied medical care and have no need to work under capitalistic society and am fully accepted and cherished in my queerness and in space… and to say yes, it’s everything I’ve ever yearned for, and then to shut the door on that, and knowingly return to the world of our current day?

I don’t know, y’all. I mean. Even if I did do it, which isn’t 100% certain—but looking within myself I think I could have the strength to do it, but I’d need some time to bid farewell in my heart, it couldn’t be sudden— the very act of seeing a Star Trek future and being in it and then… to willingly leave… it would break my heart so deeply, I just. how does one recover from that? my throat hurts with the sheer emotion and sadness at the very thought; how could one knowingly, informedly leave such a place and not have your heart forever changed? I think I’d always feel a little wounded, a certain especially tender spot somewhere deep within myself. To have held that future and then let it slip from your fingers…

I think this is especially poignant and moving to me given that this comes immediately following And The Point of Salvation and we know that Ezekiel remembers everything, and even though he seems to be fine because the writers don’t let his character breathe and give him the space and respect he’s due / Julian Bashir-ify him / are racist and don’t let him express it onscreen, there’s no way that didn’t majorly fuck him up psychologically, and I feel like, as sweet as this episode is presented onscreen, it’s kind of the emotional narrative successor to the previous episode because it’s like, the other side of the forever-changed-self coin. to really, truly walk away from what you most desire?

for me, to walk away from a brief moment of living in a Star Trek world? to quote another story, I think I might be brave enough; but I don’t think I’d ever feel the same and, I think there would be so much indescribable sadness to the aftermath of this.

Even if we argue that each of their life AUs were vastly more personal than worldwide-altering hopes and dreams, still, and even given that these events were followed up by the season finale (which was very good as well!!) I think the characters would all really, really need time to sit with and process the grief of losing… whatever their heart’s-desire-lives were, whether we agree with the accuracy of the ones we saw on screen or no. I think they’d need to really mourn those brief flashes of an alternate life; and even after they went back to work and proceeded “as normal” I think these sadnesses would crop back up from time to time as a certain sound, certain name, certain object or scenery or other occurrence briefly brought their memory back to those brief flashes of another time, another life. And they’d help each other through it, of course, but. what a particular sadness that would be.

I dunno, I guess I just got to thinking about how incredibly difficult and heartbreaking it would be to be placed into a Star Trek future and then have to make the choice to give that up, and how I don’t think any of the Librarians or Eve would bounce back to normal immediately, how they’d need to give themselves time to feel all of the emotions and process the losses of the time when they inhabited their hearts’ desires because, ough, I would be such a mess.

maybe sometime I’ll write a fic about this because there’s so much unexplored emotional potential and angst/hurt/comfort territory going on here, but I had to get these thoughts out because the concept of being handed your deepest, dearest wishes and then being asked to recant to save the world is so, so much more intense, more heartbreakingly bittersweet, more layered than we really got screen time for, and is (to me at least!) so worth exploring in terms of how it would affect the characters in the weeks/months etc beyond the events of the episode. ough, just. so many feelings about this♡

[phatburd]

ask game: N, T, W

Some of my opinions are probably going to wildly offend people but let’s go!

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

Only three things? Hmm. K. So, for The Old Guard:

First thing - I want more morally grey stories, or Dubious Morality as AO3 tags it, or stories where the characters have to make choices with no good, 100% happy outcomes for anybody. Where helping someone will guarantee that some other innocent will get hurt and suffer. I want to see Nile, et al, make hard choices.

Second thing (of which I am guilty so far) is I’d like to see more solo-Andy in the immediate years after she became immortal and the millennia she spent alone before she met any of the others. There’s a lot of stories to mine there, and one of the reasons why I haven’t touched it yet is because there’s so much to mine there. It’s intimidating. I want to do it anyway. I’m currently focused on the Napoleonic Era for Booker, but I’m not above poking at the Bronze Age Collapse at another time.

Thirdly, I want more fics that explore the future of the immortal team. The past is a great resource, and that's fun to tease out and see how the immortals can fit into historical events. But the future has a lot of potential too. How do the immortals deal with a world where facial recognition technology is everywhere? How does one disappear where every movement is tracked in some way or other?

(I work with some huge information databases in my real world job – the details of which I can’t talk about – and let’s just say I know what I’m talking about.)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Booker is not inherently selfish. Full stop.

Let me explain. In the early 2000s I was going through a really bad mental health patch. I kinda fell apart professionally and personally in the aftermath of Bush vs. Gore and pretty much hated everyone and everything.

I don’t know how many people here are old enough to remember the discussions around “enhanced interrogations.” In my really bad psychological state, I read a book that discussed the use of torture through the ages and its ineffectiveness as a tool to gather intelligence. This is because everyone has a breaking point, where they will do anything, say anything, agree to anything, just to escape the pain.

This is the point where I realized the same thing applied to depression and suicidal ideation. At some point, the pain of living becomes so goddamn intense, a person develops tunnel vision and will do anything to stop their own pain. Depression is torture without any visible mechanism. In that case, is it selfish to end your own pain?

This is where shitheads will say, “But what about all other people in your life? You’re selfish because you’ll hurt them!” No, they don’t fucking get it. That’s counterproductive because a person that far down in the hole will think, “Well, maybe they’ll be better off without me then.” The pain is so intense, you're not thinking of others because you can’t. You just want it to end by any means necessary.

What does this have to do with Booker? Yeah, this is the mental state I imagine Booker to have been in for longer than most people have been alive. He wants it to end and he will do whatever it takes, including agreeing to things he probably wouldn’t have if he wasn’t in that mental state.

Is wanting to end your own pain weak or selfish? I’d say no. Anyone who says yes hasn't been there, and I hope they never reach that breaking point to understand what it feels like.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

I screeched about this when this last season of Star Trek Picard aired. Actually, I screeched about multiple tropes in Star Trek Picard that I fucking loathed. I’m going to revisit the one that pissed me off most, and that was what happened to Captain Liam Shaw.

Technically, what happened to Shaw wasn’t a deathbed conversion, since he apparently made up his mind before he was even officially introduced that he actually liked Seven. But S3E09 gave all the appearances of a deathbed conversion and I flipped the fuck out.

I do not like it when a character has a change of heart right before they die. Dying doesn’t teach a character anything. They can’t be a better person and grow because they’re dead. They can’t have their past conceptions challenged by new experiences because they’re dead.

A deathbed conversion is nice for drama, but it’s also the easy way out, another form of deus ex machina if you will, and I hate it wherever I see it.

Okay, I think that’s enough. I haven’t had any caffeine yet, what a way to crawl out of bed. I did this to myself though. Lol.