#is it just me or does this have the vibes of an alternate universe far side

[todays-xkcd]

Though they do appreciate how much he improved the heating system for the flame pit.

Demons [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Three demons, Cueball-like in general appearance but with horns and pointed tails, are standing together while surrounded by flames. The leftmost demon is holding a pitchfork and the next one has his hands down. They are looking at the third to the right standing a bit apart from them. This last demon, Maxwell's demon as given in the caption, holds his palms up while looking at the other two.] Demon with pitchfork: What's our plan for the souls today? Boil them in oil? Middle demon: We could cast them into the flame pit. Maxwell's demon: What if we set up two rooms with a door in between, but– get this– we only let them go through it one way!

[Caption below the panel:] Maxwell's Demon had trouble fitting in with the others.

[eldritchamy]

I think I've figured out a good way to articulate one of the reasons Human Domestication Guide is hitting for me in a way really not much else has done for a long time.

HDG is an inverse fandom.

Whereas a lot of fanfiction (maybe just for the sake of the pun we can expand outwards, wink, and call them "transformative works") takes at the core of its nature a specific character or group of characters, and then transplants (sorry, I had to) those characters into Alternate Universes in order to keep telling altered, revised, and original stories with those CHARACTERS, while changing everything else, HDG does the opposite.

It takes the SETTING as the core defining feature, and creates original CHARACTERS in order to tell original stories.

And that's really cool for reasons that, of course, ended up becoming another gigantic one of Amy's Patented Infodump Posts.

Most fanfiction gets to appeal to its audience because of the associations and attachments readers have for the CHARACTERS, and then create a new story from there without having to spend time setting up WHO THE STORY IS ABOUT for you. I don't say this as a bad thing, that's just the attraction. The readers bring their attachment to the characters WITH them before they start reading.

HDG gets to assume you understand the SETTING as a basic premise, and then tell new stories with original characters without having to hold your hand through as much of the set up work, because you already know the SETTING going in.

So instead of discovering how the characters you know relate to a world you don't (and to each other within that context), you get stories where you get to discover who the characters ARE, in the context of a world you already understand.

It's not "what does a different setting do to these characters." It's "how do different people navigate this setting."

You get to meet and learn and identify with the CHARACTERS because you see how they as unique people react to a set premise.

So much of what I've read so far has done exceptional work establishing who the characters are, even making MINOR characters within the story feel like fleshed out people.

You'd think in a setting that takes at face value the premise of humanity being subjugated and doted on by a species that uses mind control drugs to turn them into docile, obedient pets, the stories would struggle a bit with sameness as the individuality of the characters failed to shine through or were inevitably suppressed over the course of the plot.

In practice, it seems like almost the OPPOSITE is true.

The Affini always win. But every character chooses to lose to them in a different way that speaks to who they are as people.

Getting to explore these unique stories through the eyes of unique characters seems like it's making it EASIER to latch on to what makes THESE characters the focus of the stories being told.

And so far the stories being told are fucking great, and have such a huge range to them.

The original story for the setting is a VERY non consensual medfet/drug play subjugation story where Elvira (captain of a ship for the Free Terran feralist rebellion) is ABSOLUTELY brought into domestication by force (at first), and we get to see the PROCESS of her being broken down and becoming something new over the course of (what we later learn has been ONLY) about three weeks. She's not the same person she was at the start of the story. At all. She's been utterly replaced by a new identity and personality that the old version of her would never have accepted. (Also it's kinda hot that it's actually good for her, and that she very much DOES end up happier for it. She's still Elvira. But she's safe, and she's loved.)

That's a pretty specific vibe for a story.

But the next story I read in the setting takes place over the course of several hours in-universe, and basically follows a dysfunctional, clearly neurodivergent woman stagnating in the limbo of having been failed by capitalism (or in her mind, failing at it) and having mixed feelings about the staggeringly powerful alien civilization that is currently part way through conquering her planet and its people.

The story starts off when she's so hungry after scraping through what scant, nutritionless garbage she was able to find in the capitalist dystopia that it finally overrides her fear, and she goes to the border of Affini-controlled territory in her city. She figures, they're going to do whatever they're going to do to the rest of the city within a few days anyway, so there's no sense pretending whatever outcome she's walking into wasn't inevitable, and even if it's not as good as the Affini promise, at least it's not what she's been stuck in. Fear of sameness finally becomes more traumatic than fear of change.

She proceeds to go on an adorable lesbian grocery date with a 10 foot tall plant that gently flirts with her while remaining very firm that all of this human's needs CAN and SHOULD and WILL be taken care of FOR her from now on, and it's OKAY that she has trouble focusing because it's OKAY that some people need more help than others.

She spends several chapters experiencing repeated Lesbian Bluescreens because of this sweet, doting alien who insists it's no trouble at all and she's happy to help. Then said alien takes her back to her apartment on the human side to make sure she feels safe getting there through the anti-Affini protests, and then in a matter of minutes she has cleaned this girl's entire disaster of an apartment and promised to cook her a nice Terran pizza.

Then the girl has a lesbian panic attack while coming to terms with how much misery she didn't have to be living with, and whether this future isn't exactly what she always hoped for and more, so the alien offers to give her some alien drugs to calm her down, and her now fuzzy brain accidentally crumbles under the weight of all the secret petplay fantasies that have been turning her face red all morning and she accidentally calls the alien "Mistress", and then she goes home to THEIR place back in Affini territory with her new owner and gets absolutely spoiled until she falls asleep feeling safe and loved for the first time in her life.

COMPLETE tonal shift from the original story, but the LOGIC of the story is fully consistent with the setting. It's just a different character responding to that setting in a different way.

The range of what's possible is ENORMOUS.

I went from there to "two humans captured at different times struggle to find their way back to each other and end up with neural implants plugged into each other's brains by their shared Mistress, and the feedback loop helps them domesticate EACH OTHER" and then from there to a mostly historical context story about an Affini who lived for almost 300,000 years and how she feels about the Compact's role in everything they've done to the universe.

And then I got to read "I have to pretend to be a good little floret maid at an Affini Compact hotel because that's my Genius Spy Cover WHOOPS it turns out being a maid means getting teased and played with a lot WHOOPS, OHHhhh NOOOoo~ I'VE BEEN TURNED INTO A FREE USE HYPNO DOLL because EVERYONE KNEW I WAS A SPY THE WHOLE TIME, I'm going to resolve my mixed feelings by erotically betraying my co-conspirator so we can be floret girlfriends together," which was cute, funny, and INCREDIBLY hot.

Seriously, chapter 10 of that story. Holy FUCK. I think my brain has turned fully inside out. I had a DREAM kinda like it afterwards that I wish I could remember more of.

I guess my point is HDG is less like a fandom and more like DND.

It's a shared universe of collaborative storytelling, even if any individual work within it was made by one person.

You get to play within a core set of rules for how the setting works, but the stories that can come out of playing by those rules are so incredible and diverse and interesting, and I'm really enjoying getting to explore all of that within the context of a basic premise that has absolutely grabbed most of my kinks by the throat, stared menacingly into my eyes, and smirked knowingly.

Also it's INCREDIBLY queer and very obviously made specifically for gay autistic trans women who take progesterone, so I guess just like the rest of the little Terrans, I never stood a chance.

[katagawajr]

BORDERLANDS 4- the lore so far

a post compiling all the tidbits from the trailers/descriptions, about everything we know about the story (so far).

wanted to make this post because i may be borderlands' biggest hater, but this new stuff looks really intriguing so far! call me optimistic but i'm definitely interested for now...

(speculation/theorizing involved here. i'm not actually 100% knowledgeable on all the lore but this is just what i'm gathering from it. if it turns out to be true then i called it here first <3)

so here's the timeline we know so far:

-> At the end of Borderlands 3, Elpis is crashing into Pandora. To save everyone (on both places), Lilith flies up and teleports Elpis away. Presumably, just like Sanctuary in BL2, she can't exactly control where it goes.

-> Where it happens to go is the planet of Kairos: a planet hidden in space- it's insinuated that the "protective barrier" surrounding the planet (made of glass?) turned it invisible. Or at least undetectable.

-> This "revealed" Kairos to the universe. Elpis presumably has been pulled in and is now orbiting Kairos.

-> Kairos is currently being controlled by "The Timekeeper." The Timekeeper is not a PERSON, but rather an Eridian Guardian. AKA... A Vault Monster.

-> This is explicitly stated in one of Nyriad's diary entries from BL3. She mentions the Timekeeper by name as an "Eridian Creation," in the likes of Graveward (BL3) and the Traveller (TFTBL). It's also obvious by the images above that it isn't Human- it has robotic limbs, floats, and seemingly harnesses/is connected to the Vault Gate behind it.

-> The Timekeeper is described as a dictator obsessed with Perfect Order, furthering the idea that this hidden planet was in a perfect state of "Order," with only the Timekeeper + its "synthetic" army. Remnants of whatever Eridian Society created it, and hid it away, for whatever reason.

-> Elpis crashing into Kairos, and breaking the barrier, has enraged the Timekeeper, who's planet is now visible to the galaxy. And a big hole in the ceiling of it's house. Damn.

-> It's confirmed there's a few years' time-skip between the crashing of Elpis and the start of the game. The SCAVS of Elpis (and bandits of Pandora most likely, however they hitched a ride) have now made their way to the surface of Kairos and are causing mayhem. They seem way more mechanical in nature than the last time we saw Elpis, but similar vibes. Very tech-y, robotic, etc. -> These bandits become their own faction known as "The Rippers," and their leader is a robot lady named Callis.

-> Queen Callis is shown in the trailer to ALSO be not human (robot? something else? Kairos's influence, or Elpis tech? who knows.) But apparently she also has the power to control the bandits, through their masks. She puts the masks on them and their eyes turn red, matching hers. So it's possible she's just mind controlling every bandit.

-> Anyways, it's a "robo-bandit" VS. "synthetic Eridian" civil war deal. The Timekeeper appears to be attempting to subjugate the entire planet again, especially based on all the "break free" wording of the teaser descriptions. Whether you're fighting WITH Callis's army or just as a third party, it appears the Vault Hunters are from Elpis (or, were on Elpis when it got yoinked at the very least). And they're trying to escape this planet. -> The last description does mention "cast of characters, new AND old," so it remains to be seen in what capacity old characters are involved. It IS a time-skip, so maybe Sanctuary finally tracked down Lilith's whereabouts and she's stranded on Elpis. Maybe Ava is an adult now and leading the Crimson Raiders. Maybe the whole "Timekeeper" business means there will be timeline fuckery- pulling alternate timeline versions of old characters, bringing back dead ones, who knows.

-> (I'M PERSONALLY INCLINED TO BELIEVE that Sasha and Fiona will also play a role in this game? Because New Tales called specific attention to Sasha being in a different part of the galaxy unable to be found (hidden planet? wink wink?), and Fiona's talk of Sasha's anahatium pocketwatch, with the etched phrase "TIME HEALS ALL WOUNDS.")

-> (Who knows if that is true, or what that really means. Just speculation here. I miss Sasha and Fiona, and they've been hyped up with BL3 Echoes, New Tales stuff, and even their own book. Give us the two best Borderlands characters back please.)

-> Last thing as an aside, it DOES show that we will be getting a Siren VH again. So she either needs to have Steele's unknown power, the Leech power, or some secret third thing. Maybe she isn't a real siren at all. The device on her arm could either be a way to REPLICATE a siren's power (like Anu, making her a "fake siren") or possibly as a way to enhance/contain the Leech power, like Tyreen alludes to in BL3. Interested to find out.

TLDR: we're finally getting the Eridian War plotline! They didn't forget guys! AND it directly involves Elpis, like the game where we first learned about the Eridian War!

Synthetic "Eridian" army led by a Vault Guardian/Monster, THE TIMEKEEPER, vs. the robotic bandit army, the Rippers, led by QUEEN CALLIS. Time-skip again (intrigued to see how long this time. It's canonically been at LEAST two years since BL3.) New + Old characters. New Eridian planet, like Nekrotafeyo. 4 New VH's, either FROM Elpis, or wayward travelers who accidentally crashed onto Kairos.

“Early 2025” gameplay reveal, unspecified 2025 release date.

[bluebblurry]

Okay okay so the victor naming scheme with like celestial bodies (I like to think this is what the Watchers call them) is really really cool to me so i was trying to come up with more for the potential winners

(I decided I’m going to go through all of them while i wait for grian to poST HIS FUCKING VIDEO so please bare with me lmao)

Grian is the Sun, of course. It’s his series, not to mention he shares a name with the Irish goddess of the sun. Mumbo can’t win bc he’s out but like if he ever does win, i think he should also be the Sun like Grian, because they canonically share a soul (at least in hermitcraft). He could also be Icarus as a tribute :3

Scott is the Stars. Why? I dunno, fandom consensus lmao. I don’t personally keep up with his pov because he and grian don’t really cross paths much (i mostly only watch grian, mumbo, and scar 😭). He also had that little crown in Last Life that looked like stars so

Pearl is the Moon, firstly, because she is PearlescentMoon, but also because she had a strong connection with the wolves (Werewolf!Pearl my beloved). It also completes the trio lol

Now here’s where we get into the people that don’t necessarily have an agreed upon title, starting with Martyn. To me, he is Mars. The Roman god of war is a contributor to that, but he also just has the vibes (it also rhymes with Stars but atdhdbjd). Similar to Mumbo, Ren could also be Mars if he won bc his soul is shared with Martyn now (i think??). If not, then maybe Jupiter, like the king of gods, and the red dot can be Red Winter.

Scar is the Earth. He had an earthy color palette for most of the season, but that’s not the only reason. He is alone. The Earth is alone in the universe when it comes to life (as far as we know).

Now, i’ve seen Cleo as Mercury and as Venus, and I love both of those. Venus is the Roman goddess of love and beauty, and I think that’s very fun for Cleo. Mercury also is kind of just her vibe. However! I thought of Pluto, at first as a joke, because Cleo “technically doesn’t count”. But i decided it fits because Pluto is the Roman god of the Underworld, and Cleo is a zombie! :D

Okay now i’m making some up for fun for potential future winners 💀

Jimmy could be a Comet! Somehow it’s similar to a canary to me, i dunno it just makes sense lmao. If Tim ever won, it would be like he’s hurtling toward the finish line like a big flaming ball, so it’s funny. I don’t have the words to explain the symbolism i want to get across, but it’s there i promise

Lizzie could be The Void, one because ShadowLady, and two because she died to the void in Secret Life. I know it’s not exactly a celestial body, but it can apply to the dark matter of space :)

Etho could be Saturn, purely just for color and vibes. Alternately he could be Jupiter and the red storm can be like Etho’s red eye!

Joel is Uranus. Just cause it’s funny.

Gem could be the constellation Gemini. I know it doesn’t exactly count as a celestial body, and Scott is already the Stars, but i don’t care lol

A potential one for Tango is Mercury. His blue fire form could represent Mercury’s retrograde.

Big B would probably be Neptune, for his sweater, or! Venus because of his recent Creaking stuff.

Unfortunately i don’t really have one for Bdubs, so if y’all have suggestions let me know! Maybe like, the Horsehead Nebula?

I’d like for Impulse and Skizz to be intertwined somehow, something like Alpha Centauri, which are two stars that orbit each other.

Tell me if you have suggestions! I might also be using some of these for my pirate au…. 🤫

[sepdet]

Killing Time Excerpts #6

McCoy and Spock discuss Kirk, and Kirk narrowly avoids becoming a redshirt.

Note: I had forgotten just how good this book is. I'm skipping over plot and fun scenes with other characters, including McCoy, Scotty, Chapel, and some OCs. Try to find and read the whole novel, whether a pdf of the rare first edition or the easier-to-find second edition with the Kirk/Spock vibes toned down.

But my mission here is to bring you the Kirk/Spock stuff, since I have the uncensored 1st ed.

Context: McCoy and Captain Spock have figured out they're living in an alternate universe, where people are suffering hallucinations or mental breakdowns as bits of their other selves "slip through." McCoy has seen glimpses of the other reality via voluntary mind scans of several crew members, and he's noticed a recurring figure...

––––

McCoy shrugged. "Maybe nothing," he said before the Vulcan could respond. "But once you take a look at those vid-scans, I think you'll understand why I'm a little . . . concerned about Kirk."

"Please explain," the Vulcan entreated, leaning forward curiously.

"I can't be sure, of course," the doctor replied hesitantly, "but Kirk does bear a remarkable resemblance to some of the images on that tape." He leaned back, biting his lip thoughtfully. "And I also found out that you ordered Kirk to report to Sickbay last night."

"He did not choose to do so," the Vulcan stated, not particularly surprised.

"Apparently not," McCoy confirmed. "But if you questioned him about it, he'd probably give you a lot of static about his ignoring an order being grounds for immediate discharge, and you wouldn't get much insight into the real problem." He paused. "But Kirk did come staggering into my office early this morning. And let me tell you, Captain, he looked like early death and plomik soup warmed over. At first, he wouldn't tell me what was wrong, wouldn't let anyone touch him— but then he started demanding lidacin."

"Lidacin?" Spock repeated quietly. "Why should he . . .?" But then the answer came. Once under the influence of the powerful tranquilizer, the human would not dream; certain electrical impulses to the brain would be deadened; the slippage would not be as severe to the conscious mind. Far from a cure, but nonetheless an effective placebo. He looked at McCoy.

"In answer to your question," the doctor replied, "I didn't give it to him. But when I asked him to get on the table, he started backing up as if I'd just told him I was an ax murderer. It took me and four orderlies to get him down, and a double dose of coenthal to calm him down long enough to run a full exam." He paused. "When I got through with the tests, I found out that this kid's got some serious problems no one discovered before." He shook his head, slipping into a moment of thought. "I'd love to see a vid-scan on him, though I suspect he'd rather walk on hot coals than submit to anything."

Spock felt himself tense. Again, McCoy's suspicions about Kirk confirmed his own. The ensign was somehow important. "Precisely what type of . . . problems did you discover, Doctor?" he asked at last, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

McCoy's expression slowly transformed to a worried frown. "First of all, he's been addicted to lidacin for quite a while—and not the stuff we use on the ship, either. Don't ask me where he's been getting it, but he's been injecting himself with a ninety percent solution for at least six months. Hell, Spock, it's no wonder he's been acting like a zombie half the time."

Spock remained quiet for a moment. "I presume you will begin treatment of the addiction."

McCoy nodded. "Sure, but it'll take time," he reminded the Vulcan. "The main cure is abstinence—and that's not going to be easy on him, either. And while I don't personally approve of anybody's drug addiction, I approve of those Orion stitches-and-needles rehab colonies even less—which is where he'd end up if anyone other than you or me found out about this. But now . . . "

"I see," the Vulcan said softly, feeling a deep personal regret that the young ensign's life was such an apparent turmoil. The human was different, compelling . . . and somehow connected in a critical way to both universes. The Vulcan lifted an eyebrow in silent consideration. Perhaps Kirk was even the key to whatever answer existed. . . .

"The only course of action I can suggest," McCoy continued, calling the Vulcan back to reality, "is that we try to keep this under wraps—especially from men like Donner. If Kirk wants out of the Fleet as much as he claims, then he might go out of his way to make it known that he is a drug addict—just to get that discharge."

The Vulcan glanced up. "Apparently not," he countered, "or he certainly could have availed himself of that opportunity while still at the Academy waiting for active posting." He shook his head. "No . . . Ensign Kirk has chosen to be here; and I do not believe it is entirely by accident."

McCoy considered that. "In other words, you think he may be calling your bluff—trying to see how much he can get away with?"

"I am not certain," Spock replied, "for I have never understood the human capacity to say one thing when another thing entirely is desired."

McCoy grinned. "Like Brer Rabbit and the briar patch."

A look of confusion took shape on angular Vulcan features. "Brer Rabbit?"

But McCoy only laughed. "Never mind, Spock," he muttered. He sobered then, forcing himself back to more immediate problems. "The main thing right now is to get started on a treatment program."

"Begin immediately, Doctor," Spock instructed. In the back of his own mind, he realized he was taking a severe chance with his own career—and possibly the safety of the ShiKahr—based on a feeling alone. But transferring Kirk now would serve no useful purpose. I'd make one hell of a lousy ensign, Spock. The phantom words returned, spoken as clearly as if the man had been standing directly in front of him.

McCoy nodded almost to himself, noticing the distant stare in his captain's eyes. "I dunno," the doctor murmured. "Maybe I'm just looking for an answer under any rock—but there's something about him . . . something worth salvaging."

"Precisely what injuries did you find?" the captain asked presently.

McCoy scoffed. "He's been through a lot, Spock—most of it during the time he spent in prison on Earth. Several broken bones; all healed now. Scar tissue on the left lung from bronchial pneumonia—not terribly surprising, considering his weakened condition and prison living conditions. Lots of bruises," he added, "and a few lacerations." His tone darkened. "All fresh, I might add. But the physical injuries are just the tip of that proverbial iceberg."

"The Talos Device," Spock remarked, tone bordering on contempt.

"The Talos Device," McCoy confirmed. "That damned thing was used pretty extensively on him—so it's no mystery why he won't submit to a vid-scan." He shook his head once again. "And it's no wonder he was trying to pry lidacin out of me. He probably has nightmares left over from the Talos Device that would make a Klingon concentration camp look like a sixth-grade prayer retreat by comparison." He paused. "I've prescribed benzaprine orally for him—and that should curb the effects of the withdrawal within a few days." But his eyes darkened with concern. "The only problem is that he's going to have to come down to Sickbay every night to get the pills. I don't dare trust him with a bottle of the stuff; it'd be like candy next to the stuff he's been pumping into himself. He'd overdose in a day's time."

"Leave the medication with me," Spock suggested. At the very least, it would be an excuse to question the ensign further—and under a more gentle pretense. "Also, it would be too conspicuous if he were seen going to Sickbay every evening; even a man with Donner's limited intelligence would not have difficulty deducing the reason."

McCoy seemed dubious, but nodded. "I'll drop it off in a couple hours," he replied, rising from the chair. "Anything else, Spock?"

The Vulcan thought for a moment. "Negative, Doctor," he replied at last.

"Well," McCoy concluded, moving to the door. "Since I've still got a few hours of correlation to do on this data, I'd better get back to my beads and rattles. . . ." For a moment, the doctor jolted internally. It seemed so natural . . . like a memory of a dream . . . Spock calling him a witch doctor . . . while someone else stood in the background suppressing a smile. He shivered, and wondered if he, too, was beginning to slip. Someone else. The third side of the triangle. Golden-haired, golden-eyed human. But before he could ponder it further, Spock rose to see him out.

The Vulcan studied the doctor. "I had always suspected that your medical practices were something less than scientific," he murmured, though he also felt an odd sense of deja vu connected with McCoy's peculiar statement. He wondered briefly if it was McCoy who had always been at his side—and though that image brought a certain truth, he recognized that it was not entirely accurate. The images whisper-walked through his mind. Blue and gold. Warmth and companionship. Stolen moments when the firm Vulcan mask did not have to fit so tightly.

Somewhere, he told himself, he would find that reality again . . . or create it.

[…]

It was late in the evening when the door buzzer sounded again, and though the Vulcan had long since abandoned the prospect of sleep, the grating tone was nonetheless annoying. He rose from the bed, only then realizing that he'd slipped into a state of light meditation while planning the details for the scheduled meeting with the Canusian ambassador. Reaching for the discarded uniform shirt, He glanced at the chronometer. Two A.M. But before he could even begin to pull the uniform into place, the buzzer sounded again, more insistent . . . and more annoying.

"Come!" he said sharply, surprised at the harsh tone of his voice.

The door opened to reveal Ensign Kirk standing in the hall, bright hazel eyes flitting nervously back and forth from the corridor to the interior of the dimly lit room. He did not speak as he stepped inside, doors closing with a whoosh behind him.

The Vulcan studied him for a moment, quickly detecting the embarrassment hiding behind an outward expression of defiance. For the briefest of moments, the Vulcan wondered what in all possible worlds had brought the human to his doorstep at this hour of the night; but slowly memory returned, and he remembered the pills McCoy had left with him a few hours earlier. Without preamble, he reached into the second drawer of the desk, retrieved the bottle of benzaprine, and dumped two capsules into the palm of his hand, feeling unaccountably nervous in the human's presence. He proffered the pills in Kirk's direction, but still the ensign did not look up.

"Guess McCoy told you about my little . . . problem," the human muttered as if to himself. "But since when are the captain's quarters considered a dispensary?" He was angry at having the knowledge discovered by anyone—and especially embarrassed that the Vulcan commander had obviously been informed. But he felt his hard resolve start to weaken. He glanced up, meeting the Vulcan's eyes. Somehow, shirtless, and with hair slightly dishelved, the Shi'Kahr's legendary captain appeared almost vulnerable in the dim lighting. . . almost reachable.

"The doctor informed me of your addiction to lidacin," the Vulcan confirmed presently. Kirk was such an enigma. He could never predict when the human would react with anger, when he would be embarrassed, when he would board himself up inside that stubborn wall and be completely unreadable. And the fact that he'd only met the ensign recently didn't aid the uncanny sensation of helplessness. "And in response to your second question," he continued, "I thought it would be better for all concerned if you came here rather than Sickbay." He paused, then took another risk. "You . . . obviously do not wish it publicly known that you are . . . experiencing difficulties, and I do not believe you sincerely wish to be transferred off this vessel." So, he thought to himself, this was poker. He felt his heart quicken just a little.

Kirk looked up, started to deny it, then abandoned the pose with a deep sigh as he flopped, uninvited, into a convenient chair. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked after the fact.

A Vulcan eyebrow climbed high as the captain sank into his own chair. Bluff called. He waited mutely.

"Why do you care?" Kirk asked at last, meeting the Vulcan's eyes.

And Spock felt himself weaken under the human's scrutiny. Spock glanced away from the intense hazel globes. But the stakes were too high to permit intimidation to interfere with logic. "I have . . . discussed your case with Doctor McCoy," he began, wondering where the statement would eventually lead, "and have come to the conclusion that you are somehow . . . a critical factor in the survival of this . . . universe." His throat was suddenly dry; gambling was a game best left to humans.

But Kirk laughed, startling him back to reality. "Now that's a heavy guilt trip, Captain," he said boldly. "I know the ShiKahr's received some strange orders, but telling me that I'm a critical factor is taking psychiatry a bit far, isn't it?"

The Vulcan shivered, glancing forlornly across the room to the discarded shirt. Yet he knew that no amount of clothing could cover his psychic nakedness; Kirk could strip him to the marrow with a single question."I can offer no logical explanation," he replied truthfully. "I can only state what I . . . feel . . . to be true." He forced himself to look up once more, demanded his eyes to remain locked with the human's. Somehow, he hadn't expected this. If he had been the intimidator before, it now seemed as if their positions were reversed; Kirk was questioning him. And yet . . . it felt right, normal, secure. He relented to intuition. "As I have informed you previously, there is a strong possibility that we shall not survive beyond this week. For the moment, it appears that we have, as you humans might call it, bought some time. Yet I shall not hesitate to point out to you—confidentially—that we are still not fully knowledgeable as to what we are facing nor how to . . . correct whatever damage has been done." He paused, wondering if he was making the correct decision. But holding back would accomplish nothing—and perhaps worse. He swallowed, wondered what the human was thinking, what thoughts were traveling through the quick mind. "At any rate," he continued presently, "we have been diverted to the Canusian system." He held the intense eyes. "And I have tentatively scheduled you into the landing party."

Kirk's eyes widened. "Why?" he asked simply.

The Vulcan hesitated, steepling his fingers in front of him, wishing the action would accomplish the serenity for which it was designed. "Your early Academy records indicated that you were quite adept at diplomacy, Ensign," he replied, choosing a formal approach. "And since several members of the crew are temporarily . . . disabled . . . I find it necessary to utilize your services."

Kirk stared at the Vulcan, a smile slowly coming to the handsome face. "Suppose I refuse?" he asked pointedly.

The eyebrow rose once more. "In that event," the Vulcan replied, "I would have no alternative other than to expedite your immediate discharge from the Fleet." He paused. Poker indeed. "You would be transported to the space-port on Canus Four and eventually to an Orion colony," he bluffed. He leaned forward then, resting his elbows on the desk. "The decision is yours, Jim."

Kirk rose from the chair, shaking his head in mild disbelief. He turned away from the Vulcan, and felt a flare of the old anger. But it quickly faded as respect for the commander chased it away. "And what makes you think I wouldn't jump at the chance?" he wondered.

"You are not a fool, Ensign," the Vulcan responded. "I believe you are . . ." He hesitated, warring with feelings which suddenly welled in on him. "I believe you are . . . as displaced in your present role as I perceive you to be," he stated finally. "And that you . . ." But it wasn't easy to say; a lifetime of discipline and logic fought for survival. ". . . that you will . . . find the strength within yourself to . . . aid in this matter."

Kirk shook his head once again, then turned to face the Vulcan, wondering if it was even possible to trust again. He started to speak, then closed his mouth with the words still suspended in his throat. Something stirred inside him. . . something ancient, yet something familiar. He took a deep breath. "All right," he conceded at last. And somehow, it didn't injure the fierce pride nor the stubborn ego as he'd half-expected it would. "For all the good it'll do, I'll go on the landing party."

The Vulcan nodded almost to himself. "Thank you," he murmured, recognizing the illogic in his words. Yet he also recognized the need for that simple reassurance. "At our present speed, we shall be entering Canusian orbit early in the morning. Please report to the transporter room at 0800 hours."

Kirk nodded, feeling suddenly awkward as he noticed the two capsules of benzaprine on the Vulcan's desk. He turned toward the door.

"Ensign?"

He stopped, but did not face the Vulcan.

"Do you . . .?" But his voice trailed into silence.

Kirk shook his head in silent negation of the unspoken question. "Tell Doc I flushed 'em down the john," he said quietly, and slipped into the corridor before the Vulcan could reply.

Once outside the captain's quarters, he leaned heavily against the bulkhead, eyes drifting shut. Someone else had made him say the things he'd said. Someone else had walked through his mind. Absently, he twisted the plain gold Academy ring on his left hand as he sank to the floor and began to tremble. Someone else . . . I believe you are as displaced in your current role as I perceive you to be.

He took a deep breath, running one hand down the smooth metal body of the ship. She . . . silver woman-goddess. It was time to change . . .

After a moment, he rose from the cool bulkhead, listening to the pleasant drone of the engines. Reality breathed . . . more easily now.

[…]

He reached into the closet, withdrawing a red, silk uniform tunic.

But Richardson quickly came over, snatched the red shirt away and tossed it across the room. "Here," he said, digging deeper into the closet until he found a blue shirt. "Live a little—and a little longer, Jim," he urged.

Kirk's brows questioned.

And Richardson shrugged. "Let's just say that on this ship—or probably any other—you don't want to wear a red shirt on landing-party duty."

Kirk shook his head with a laugh . . . and quickly pulled the blue shirt over his head.

* * * * *

The landing party, consisting of five members, beamed down to the computer-specified coordinates only to discover themselves in a swampy area. Large trees resembling Earth cypress grew in abundance, and steam-demons rose off warm puddles like ghostly fingers reaching for the silver-gray sky. On the distant horizon, thunder spoke ominously, and an occasional flash of black-fingered lightning ripped its way through clouds.

Captain Spock observed their surroundings with an expression bordering on exasperation, then turned to survey the landing party. McCoy and Kirk stood to one side; and Donner—an unfortunate last-minute replacement for Alvarez—and Ambassador Selon of Vulcan waited on the other side. And were it not for the logical portion of his mind, Spock might have thought himself in a nightmare. A damp, musky smell drifted to his nostrils, and already he could feel the seepage of stagnant water leaking into his boots. In an almost human gesture, the Vulcan sighed.

The nightmare became considerably more vivid, however, when he began to sense that the landing party was being quite closely watched; even Ambassador Selon, who had been attached to the ShiKahr for three years, seemed nervous.

Spock took a step forward. "Tricorder readings, Ensign Kirk?"

Kirk glanced at the hand-held device, following closely at the captain's side. "Some sort of interference, Captain," he reported. "When we first beamed down, I was detecting humanoid lifeforms within a quarter of a mile; but the readings just suddenly shot off the scale. Possible effect of the storm."

The Vulcan nodded, but before he could even begin to draw his phaser as a precautionary measure, he discovered himself in the midst of a rain of spears and arrows which appeared from everywhere and nowhere. He vaguely remembered giving the order to disperse, and was peripherally aware of Donner's voice barking orders into the communicator for emergency beam- up.

The last thing he saw before he felt something sharp slide into his back with remarkable force was the familiar twinkling effect of the transporter yanking McCoy and Ambassador Selon back to the safety of the ShiKahr. Apparently, transporter circuits were being affected by the storm as well, he thought disjointedly. He could only hope that Donner, Kirk and himself would be next, for he doubted either of the humans would survive should they be captured by the tribal, warlike Canusian primitives. The one thing which didn't make sense, however, the Vulcan realized, was that the savages couldn't have known when and where the landing party was to beam down . . . unless . . .

Instinctively, Spock reached for the phaser as he felt himself falling. If he could hold off the attack until the transporter technician could recalibrate the controls . . .

Through vision blurred with increasing pain, he could see the primitives closing in—only six of them, he realized—three with spears trained on Donner, three with crude weapons leveled on Kirk.

Without knowing precisely why, the Vulcan slid the phaser into the lethal mode, rolled to his side in a wave of agony, and took careful aim, sending three of the savages to join their ancestors in oblivion.

"Jim!" he yelled as he saw the determined expression on Kirk's face. He didn't see that the human had already drawn his own phaser with surprising speed. "Jim!" Another flash of lightning—phaser blast.

The spears started falling again, like lethal rain from the sky.

It was his last conscious memory.

McCoy shrugged. "Maybe nothing," he said before the Vulcan could respond. "But once you take a look at those vid-scans, I think you'll understand why I'm a little . . . concerned about Kirk."

"Please explain," the Vulcan entreated, leaning forward curiously.

"I can't be sure, of course," the doctor replied hesitantly, "but Kirk does bear a remarkable resemblance to some of the images on that tape." He leaned back, biting his lip thoughtfully. "And I also found out that you ordered Kirk to report to Sickbay last night."

"He did not choose to do so," the Vulcan stated, not particularly surprised.

"Apparently not," McCoy confirmed. "But if you questioned him about it, he'd probably give you a lot of static about his ignoring an order being grounds for immediate discharge, and you wouldn't get much insight into the real problem." He paused. "But Kirk did come staggering into my office early this morning. And let me tell you, Captain, he looked like early death and plomik soup warmed over. At first, he wouldn't tell me what was wrong, wouldn't let anyone touch him— but then he started demanding lidacin."

"Lidacin?" Spock repeated quietly. "Why should he . . .?" But then the answer came. Once under the influence of the powerful tranquilizer, the human would not dream; certain electrical impulses to the brain would be deadened; the slippage would not be as severe to the conscious mind. Far from a cure, but nonetheless an effective placebo. He looked at McCoy.

"In answer to your question," the doctor replied, "I didn't give it to him. But when I asked him to get on the table, he started backing up as if I'd just told him I was an ax murderer. It took me and four orderlies to get him down, and a double dose of coenthal to calm him down long enough to run a full exam." He paused. "When I got through with the tests, I found out that this kid's got some serious problems no one discovered before." He shook his head, slipping into a moment of thought. "I'd love to see a vid-scan on him, though I suspect he'd rather walk on hot coals than submit to anything."

Spock felt himself tense. Again, McCoy's suspicions about Kirk confirmed his own. The ensign was somehow important. "Precisely what type of . . . problems did you discover, Doctor?" he asked at last, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

McCoy's expression slowly transformed to a worried frown. "First of all, he's been addicted to lidacin for quite a while—and not the stuff we use on the ship, either. Don't ask me where he's been getting it, but he's been injecting himself with a ninety percent solution for at least six months. Hell, Spock, it's no wonder he's been acting like a zombie half the time."

Spock remained quiet for a moment. "I presume you will begin treatment of the addiction."

McCoy nodded. "Sure, but it'll take time," he reminded the Vulcan. "The main cure is abstinence—and that's not going to be easy on him, either. And while I don't personally approve of anybody's drug addiction, I approve of those Orion stitches-and-needles rehab colonies even less—which is where he'd end up if anyone other than you or me found out about this. But now . . . "

"I see," the Vulcan said softly, feeling a deep personal regret that the young ensign's life was such an apparent turmoil. The human was different, compelling . . . and somehow connected in a critical way to both universes. The Vulcan lifted an eyebrow in silent consideration. Perhaps Kirk was even the key to whatever answer existed. . . .

"The only course of action I can suggest," McCoy continued, calling the Vulcan back to reality, "is that we try to keep this under wraps—especially from men like Donner. If Kirk wants out of the Fleet as much as he claims, then he might go out of his way to make it known that he is a drug addict—just to get that discharge."

The Vulcan glanced up. "Apparently not," he countered, "or he certainly could have availed himself of that opportunity while still at the Academy waiting for active posting." He shook his head. "No . . . Ensign Kirk has chosen to be here; and I do not believe it is entirely by accident."

McCoy considered that. "In other words, you think he may be calling your bluff—trying to see how much he can get away with?"

"I am not certain," Spock replied, "for I have never understood the human capacity to say one thing when another thing entirely is desired."

McCoy grinned. "Like Brer Rabbit and the briar patch."

A look of confusion took shape on angular Vulcan features. "Brer Rabbit?"

But McCoy only laughed. "Never mind, Spock," he muttered. He sobered then, forcing himself back to more immediate problems. "The main thing right now is to get started on a treatment program."

"Begin immediately, Doctor," Spock instructed. In the back of his own mind, he realized he was taking a severe chance with his own career—and possibly the safety of the ShiKahr—based on a feeling alone. But transferring Kirk now would serve no useful purpose. I'd make one hell of a lousy ensign, Spock. The phantom words returned, spoken as clearly as if the man had been standing directly in front of him.

McCoy nodded almost to himself, noticing the distant stare in his captain's eyes. "I dunno," the doctor murmured. "Maybe I'm just looking for an answer under any rock—but there's something about him . . . something worth salvaging."

"Precisely what injuries did you find?" the captain asked presently.

McCoy scoffed. "He's been through a lot, Spock—most of it during the time he spent in prison on Earth. Several broken bones; all healed now. Scar tissue on the left lung from bronchial pneumonia—not terribly surprising, considering his weakened condition and prison living conditions. Lots of bruises," he added, "and a few lacerations." His tone darkened. "All fresh, I might add. But the physical injuries are just the tip of that proverbial iceberg."

"The Talos Device," Spock remarked, tone bordering on contempt.

"The Talos Device," McCoy confirmed. "That damned thing was used pretty extensively on him—so it's no mystery why he won't submit to a vid-scan." He shook his head once again. "And it's no wonder he was trying to pry lidacin out of me. He probably has nightmares left over from the Talos Device that would make a Klingon concentration camp look like a sixth-grade prayer retreat by comparison." He paused. "I've prescribed benzaprine orally for him—and that should curb the effects of the withdrawal within a few days." But his eyes darkened with concern. "The only problem is that he's going to have to come down to Sickbay every night to get the pills. I don't dare trust him with a bottle of the stuff; it'd be like candy next to the stuff he's been pumping into himself. He'd overdose in a day's time."

"Leave the medication with me," Spock suggested. At the very least, it would be an excuse to question the ensign further—and under a more gentle pretense. "Also, it would be too conspicuous if he were seen going to Sickbay every evening; even a man with Donner's limited intelligence would not have difficulty deducing the reason."

McCoy seemed dubious, but nodded. "I'll drop it off in a couple hours," he replied, rising from the chair. "Anything else, Spock?"

The Vulcan thought for a moment. "Negative, Doctor," he replied at last.

"Well," McCoy concluded, moving to the door. "Since I've still got a few hours of correlation to do on this data, I'd better get back to my beads and rattles. . . ." For a moment, the doctor jolted internally. It seemed so natural . . . like a memory of a dream . . . Spock calling him a witch doctor . . . while someone else stood in the background suppressing a smile. He shivered, and wondered if he, too, was beginning to slip. Someone else. The third side of the triangle. Golden-haired, golden-eyed human. But before he could ponder it further, Spock rose to see him out.

The Vulcan studied the doctor. "I had always suspected that your medical practices were something less than scientific," he murmured, though he also felt an odd sense of deja vu connected with McCoy's peculiar statement. He wondered briefly if it was McCoy who had always been at his side—and though that image brought a certain truth, he recognized that it was not entirely accurate. The images whisper-walked through his mind. Blue and gold. Warmth and companionship. Stolen moments when the firm Vulcan mask did not have to fit so tightly.

Somewhere, he told himself, he would find that reality again . . . or create it.

[…]

It was late in the evening when the door buzzer sounded again, and though the Vulcan had long since abandoned the prospect of sleep, the grating tone was nonetheless annoying. He rose from the bed, only then realizing that he'd slipped into a state of light meditation while planning the details for the scheduled meeting with the Canusian ambassador. Reaching for the discarded uniform shirt, He glanced at the chronometer. Two A.M. But before he could even begin to pull the uniform into place, the buzzer sounded again, more insistent . . . and more annoying.

"Come!" he said sharply, surprised at the harsh tone of his voice.

The door opened to reveal Ensign Kirk standing in the hall, bright hazel eyes flitting nervously back and forth from the corridor to the interior of the dimly lit room. He did not speak as he stepped inside, doors closing with a whoosh behind him.

The Vulcan studied him for a moment, quickly detecting the embarrassment hiding behind an outward expression of defiance. For the briefest of moments, the Vulcan wondered what in all possible worlds had brought the human to his doorstep at this hour of the night; but slowly memory returned, and he remembered the pills McCoy had left with him a few hours earlier. Without preamble, he reached into the second drawer of the desk, retrieved the bottle of benzaprine, and dumped two capsules into the palm of his hand, feeling unaccountably nervous in the human's presence. He proffered the pills in Kirk's direction, but still the ensign did not look up.

"Guess McCoy told you about my little . . . problem," the human muttered as if to himself. "But since when are the captain's quarters considered a dispensary?" He was angry at having the knowledge discovered by anyone—and especially embarrassed that the Vulcan commander had obviously been informed. But he felt his hard resolve start to weaken. He glanced up, meeting the Vulcan's eyes. Somehow, shirtless, and with hair slightly dishelved, the Shi'Kahr's legendary captain appeared almost vulnerable in the dim lighting. . . almost reachable.

"The doctor informed me of your addiction to lidacin," the Vulcan confirmed presently. Kirk was such an enigma. He could never predict when the human would react with anger, when he would be embarrassed, when he would board himself up inside that stubborn wall and be completely unreadable. And the fact that he'd only met the ensign recently didn't aid the uncanny sensation of helplessness. "And in response to your second question," he continued, "I thought it would be better for all concerned if you came here rather than Sickbay." He paused, then took another risk. "You . . . obviously do not wish it publicly known that you are . . . experiencing difficulties, and I do not believe you sincerely wish to be transferred off this vessel." So, he thought to himself, this was poker. He felt his heart quicken just a little.

Kirk looked up, started to deny it, then abandoned the pose with a deep sigh as he flopped, uninvited, into a convenient chair. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked after the fact.

A Vulcan eyebrow climbed high as the captain sank into his own chair. Bluff called. He waited mutely.

"Why do you care?" Kirk asked at last, meeting the Vulcan's eyes.

And Spock felt himself weaken under the human's scrutiny. Spock glanced away from the intense hazel globes. But the stakes were too high to permit intimidation to interfere with logic. "I have . . . discussed your case with Doctor McCoy," he began, wondering where the statement would eventually lead, "and have come to the conclusion that you are somehow . . . a critical factor in the survival of this . . . universe." His throat was suddenly dry; gambling was a game best left to humans.

But Kirk laughed, startling him back to reality. "Now that's a heavy guilt trip, Captain," he said boldly. "I know the ShiKahr's received some strange orders, but telling me that I'm a critical factor is taking psychiatry a bit far, isn't it?"

The Vulcan shivered, glancing forlornly across the room to the discarded shirt. Yet he knew that no amount of clothing could cover his psychic nakedness; Kirk could strip him to the marrow with a single question."I can offer no logical explanation," he replied truthfully. "I can only state what I . . . feel . . . to be true." He forced himself to look up once more, demanded his eyes to remain locked with the human's. Somehow, he hadn't expected this. If he had been the intimidator before, it now seemed as if their positions were reversed; Kirk was questioning him. And yet . . . it felt right, normal, secure. He relented to intuition. "As I have informed you previously, there is a strong possibility that we shall not survive beyond this week. For the moment, it appears that we have, as you humans might call it, bought some time. Yet I shall not hesitate to point out to you—confidentially—that we are still not fully knowledgeable as to what we are facing nor how to . . . correct whatever damage has been done." He paused, wondering if he was making the correct decision. But holding back would accomplish nothing—and perhaps worse. He swallowed, wondered what the human was thinking, what thoughts were traveling through the quick mind. "At any rate," he continued presently, "we have been diverted to the Canusian system." He held the intense eyes. "And I have tentatively scheduled you into the landing party."

Kirk's eyes widened. "Why?" he asked simply.

The Vulcan hesitated, steepling his fingers in front of him, wishing the action would accomplish the serenity for which it was designed. "Your early Academy records indicated that you were quite adept at diplomacy, Ensign," he replied, choosing a formal approach. "And since several members of the crew are temporarily . . . disabled . . . I find it necessary to utilize your services."

Kirk stared at the Vulcan, a smile slowly coming to the handsome face. "Suppose I refuse?" he asked pointedly.

The eyebrow rose once more. "In that event," the Vulcan replied, "I would have no alternative other than to expedite your immediate discharge from the Fleet." He paused. Poker indeed. "You would be transported to the space-port on Canus Four and eventually to an Orion colony," he bluffed. He leaned forward then, resting his elbows on the desk. "The decision is yours, Jim."

Kirk rose from the chair, shaking his head in mild disbelief. He turned away from the Vulcan, and felt a flare of the old anger. But it quickly faded as respect for the commander chased it away. "And what makes you think I wouldn't jump at the chance?" he wondered.

"You are not a fool, Ensign," the Vulcan responded. "I believe you are . . ." He hesitated, warring with feelings which suddenly welled in on him. "I believe you are . . . as displaced in your present role as I perceive you to be," he stated finally. "And that you . . ." But it wasn't easy to say; a lifetime of discipline and logic fought for survival. ". . . that you will . . . find the strength within yourself to . . . aid in this matter."

Kirk shook his head once again, then turned to face the Vulcan, wondering if it was even possible to trust again. He started to speak, then closed his mouth with the words still suspended in his throat. Something stirred inside him. . . something ancient, yet something familiar. He took a deep breath. "All right," he conceded at last. And somehow, it didn't injure the fierce pride nor the stubborn ego as he'd half-expected it would. "For all the good it'll do, I'll go on the landing party."

The Vulcan nodded almost to himself. "Thank you," he murmured, recognizing the illogic in his words. Yet he also recognized the need for that simple reassurance. "At our present speed, we shall be entering Canusian orbit early in the morning. Please report to the transporter room at 0800 hours."

Kirk nodded, feeling suddenly awkward as he noticed the two capsules of benzaprine on the Vulcan's desk. He turned toward the door.

"Ensign?"

He stopped, but did not face the Vulcan.

"Do you . . .?" But his voice trailed into silence.

Kirk shook his head in silent negation of the unspoken question. "Tell Doc I flushed 'em down the john," he said quietly, and slipped into the corridor before the Vulcan could reply.

Once outside the captain's quarters, he leaned heavily against the bulkhead, eyes drifting shut. Someone else had made him say the things he'd said. Someone else had walked through his mind. Absently, he twisted the plain gold Academy ring on his left hand as he sank to the floor and began to tremble. Someone else . . . I believe you are as displaced in your current role as I perceive you to be.

He took a deep breath, running one hand down the smooth metal body of the ship. She . . . silver woman-goddess. It was time to change . . .

After a moment, he rose from the cool bulkhead, listening to the pleasant drone of the engines. Reality breathed . . . more easily now.

[…]

He reached into the closet, withdrawing a red, silk uniform tunic.

But Richardson quickly came over, snatched the red shirt away and tossed it across the room. "Here," he said, digging deeper into the closet until he found a blue shirt. "Live a little—and a little longer, Jim," he urged.

Kirk's brows questioned.

And Richardson shrugged. "Let's just say that on this ship—or probably any other—you don't want to wear a red shirt on landing-party duty."

Kirk shook his head with a laugh . . . and quickly pulled the blue shirt over his head.

* * * * *

The landing party, consisting of five members, beamed down to the computer-specified coordinates only to discover themselves in a swampy area. Large trees resembling Earth cypress grew in abundance, and steam-demons rose off warm puddles like ghostly fingers reaching for the silver-gray sky. On the distant horizon, thunder spoke ominously, and an occasional flash of black-fingered lightning ripped its way through clouds.

Captain Spock observed their surroundings with an expression bordering on exasperation, then turned to survey the landing party. McCoy and Kirk stood to one side; and Donner—an unfortunate last-minute replacement for Alvarez—and Ambassador Selon of Vulcan waited on the other side. And were it not for the logical portion of his mind, Spock might have thought himself in a nightmare. A damp, musky smell drifted to his nostrils, and already he could feel the seepage of stagnant water leaking into his boots. In an almost human gesture, the Vulcan sighed.

The nightmare became considerably more vivid, however, when he began to sense that the landing party was being quite closely watched; even Ambassador Selon, who had been attached to the ShiKahr for three years, seemed nervous.

Spock took a step forward. "Tricorder readings, Ensign Kirk?"

Kirk glanced at the hand-held device, following closely at the captain's side. "Some sort of interference, Captain," he reported. "When we first beamed down, I was detecting humanoid lifeforms within a quarter of a mile; but the readings just suddenly shot off the scale. Possible effect of the storm."

The Vulcan nodded, but before he could even begin to draw his phaser as a precautionary measure, he discovered himself in the midst of a rain of spears and arrows which appeared from everywhere and nowhere. He vaguely remembered giving the order to disperse, and was peripherally aware of Donner's voice barking orders into the communicator for emergency beam- up.

The last thing he saw before he felt something sharp slide into his back with remarkable force was the familiar twinkling effect of the transporter yanking McCoy and Ambassador Selon back to the safety of the ShiKahr. Apparently, transporter circuits were being affected by the storm as well, he thought disjointedly. He could only hope that Donner, Kirk and himself would be next, for he doubted either of the humans would survive should they be captured by the tribal, warlike Canusian primitives. The one thing which didn't make sense, however, the Vulcan realized, was that the savages couldn't have known when and where the landing party was to beam down . . . unless . . .

Instinctively, Spock reached for the phaser as he felt himself falling. If he could hold off the attack until the transporter technician could recalibrate the controls . . .

Through vision blurred with increasing pain, he could see the primitives closing in—only six of them, he realized—three with spears trained on Donner, three with crude weapons leveled on Kirk.

Without knowing precisely why, the Vulcan slid the phaser into the lethal mode, rolled to his side in a wave of agony, and took careful aim, sending three of the savages to join their ancestors in oblivion.

"Jim!" he yelled as he saw the determined expression on Kirk's face. He didn't see that the human had already drawn his own phaser with surprising speed. "Jim!" Another flash of lightning—phaser blast.

The spears started falling again, like lethal rain from the sky.

It was his last conscious memory.

-------

Next time: Well, I reckon we were about due for Kirk and Spock rolling around on the sand fighting. Spock, you naughty Vulcan, you're supposed to establish a SAFEWORD first...

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 10

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, 5 PM.

The sun had come back. Alessia had organized a barbecue with guests, including Alexia and her partner. It was an afternoon just the way I liked it—good vibes, friends, music, and rosé wine. Alessia was now playing guitar with Alexia, and we were all singing anything and everything around them.

My phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number. I stood up and stepped away from the group for some quiet.

"Hello?"

"Ona?"

I couldn’t place the voice.

"Yes, who’s this?"

"Well, you’ve forgotten me quickly! Lucy!"

Lucy…

"Ah! Completely forgotten, indeed! But who are you, Lucy?" I replied teasingly.

She laughed.

"Where are you, Ona?"

A strange question.

"Uh… at a barbecue!"

"In what area?"

What did she want from me?

"In the Minimes neighborhood!"

"Not far from my house! Do you have the keys on you?"

Less than 10 minutes away, indeed.

"Yes, in my car..."

She continued, her voice eager.

"Alright, Ona. I need a huge favor. I’m at the house, right in front. I don’t have the keys; I’m sure I left them in Brittany. I absolutely need to get in, I need to check something. Can you come? It won’t be long."

The pain in the neck. Calling me on a Sunday, questioning me, and demanding I come. She should have come herself!

"Don’t you want to come and...?"

She cut me off.

"I need you on-site! Not for long, Ona! I’m waiting for you!"

She hung up.

She was insufferable, thinking she could do whatever she wanted. I was furious inside. Who did she think she was? Don’t go. But my curiosity overtook my frustration. This conversation, her enthusiasm, had intrigued me. 

I went back to my friends.

"Alright, guys, the Dragon just called me. She’s at the house, stuck because she doesn’t have the keys. She asked, or rather, demanded I make the round trip. I’ll be back as soon as I can!"

"For who does she think she is?" Alessia said, giving me a dark look. "Don’t go! You’re not her servant! Enough."

She wasn’t wrong.

"I’ll do the round trip, I promise! She’s impossible, I know! I’ll be quick! Ciao!"

I decided to take Alessia’s bike. I’d had a drink, so it was safer. 25 minutes later, I found myself facing Lucy. She was stunning, wearing a coral dress, her skin bronzed from her week in Brittany. My eyes moved from her perfect neckline to her blue eyes. I wanted her so badly, I wanted to touch her, kiss those lips that were pulling me in. But I couldn’t stand her, once again, making me come out on a Sunday just because she felt like it.

She greeted me with a big smile.

"Ona! Thanks for coming. You’re on a bike?"

"Yes, I just came from a barbecue, safer that way!"

She smiled and continued.

"How forgetful I am, I left my keys in Brittany! Come in, you’ll help me, it won’t take long! I found this beautiful coffee table… Isn’t it gorgeous?! I just got back, I needed to check everything with the rugs!"

I couldn’t believe it… She had made me come on a Sunday to test a coffee table. She was mocking me!

Seeing my stunned expression, she added:

"I couldn’t wait!"

What gall. She made me come for this, the selfish woman. I’d placed orders for coffee tables that I’d probably have to cancel soon. Without saying anything, she grabbed my arm.

"Let’s go!"

Her hand on my skin... Calm down, Ona, the alcohol is making you more sensitive. Self-control. This woman is a pain.

We carried the coffee table, which was indeed beautiful, to the living room. We unrolled the first rug, the ochre one, and tried to arrange it in various ways with the coffee table on top. Then came the Persian rug.

I didn’t speak much. My irritation contrasted with her enthusiasm. She made big gestures, smiling. That smile… The rug was heavy, and she couldn’t decide where she wanted it. We kept moving it around. The heat was unbearable, I was exhausted, and sweating.

"Tell me, Lucy, just to clear something up?"

She looked up.

"You’re really the mayor of this city?"

She nodded, surprised.

"A city of 200,000 people. You must make many decisions, take a stand. So I have a question: HOW CAN YOU SPEND SO MUCH TIME DECIDING WHERE TO PUT A DAMN RUG?!"

She enjoyed my apparent bad mood and my tone, half-humorous, half-serious.

"Remember, satisfying my most extravagant demands, Ona."

She fixed me with her gaze. That look… I was burning up, more than ever. I wanted her skin against mine. A physical need.

In yet another move, I tripped on the rug. Literally. I fell forward onto the Persian rug.

I looked at her. A smile on her face, she was mocking me. I pouted. She came closer, offering her hand to help me up.

I was irritated by this mess. I was hot. The alcohol coursing through my veins was loosening me up. I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward me so forcefully that she fell onto the rug beside me.

Stop, Ona, I thought, you’re going too far. 

But it was too late. 

Lucy on her back, I stared at her and moved closer to her face. Her eyes didn’t leave mine. Her gaze was a mix of surprise, concern, and desire. Yes, desire—I could see it. 

I was only a few centimeters from her lips. She was now so vulnerable.

[casual-praxis]

Okay, so I've failed again.. I'm still poking this AU with a stick.

At some point while listening to J-pop at a volume not recommended for my tinnitus, I started to think about spiders, and that made me remember my FS x TftGS Vio wip.

So I started googling spiders, and that made me want to mess with this some more, and well--here we are lmao.

I like to think this is an in-between form, and Vio's actual demon form is much more eldritch horror and not very humanoid once you get up close.

I don't think I have the art skills to illustrate it, but I imagine he's unnaturally lanky, less skin or human features, more exoskeleton and doll-like joints. He doesn't have chelicerae, but his jaw does unhinge (tho this might change. I'm thinking maybe his ears would just stop being ears and wrap around his head to create chelicerae, since spiders don't have ears. Jaw still unhinges regardless).

If you wanna read more rambling about this design, feel free to peep below the cut. There's a few alternate versions of the drawing as well, since I'm so indecisive with colors lmao.

Rapid-fire details list because I like yapping, go!

+ Both Vio's partial demon form and full form have eight eyes in total. Four on the face, two on either shoulder, one on the chest, and one on his back right at the base of his neck. His main two eyes react like normal (though he can't blink in these forms despite having eyelids). All the others are constantly swiveling around erratically, and usually not in the same directions.

+ "A Violet Spider's Death Bloom" is technically his full name, shortened to Vio for human convenience. Demon's are weird. Most either have regular sounding names, like Jeff, or long ass titles like this. Shadow's isn't much better; Mr "Left Hand of the Shadowed Tyrant".

+ The whole spider theming came about from me associating bow strings with spider thread, so if you were confused, don't worry, it only barely makes sense anyhow. I've since put more thought into it, but I was kinda curious on how far I could push it before people started to think, "wait, this isn't Vio anymore!"

Spiders as a theme is also just something I personally think fits the way I view Vio as a character. When I think of spiders, I think of eyes. When I think of Vio, I also, for a weird reason, think of eyes.

In the manga, the main way I told anyone apart was usually from the eyes, though their tunics helped a lot too. Vio's eyes in particular stood out to me since, when not colored in, they look the most distinct from the others, with the lack of highlight and general abundance of white space.

There's also frequent close up's of his eyes in particular to show when he's emoting (or processing emotions), such as the "oh, Shadow Link" thing or the weird glance he gives Green before fake stabbing him. Just. The whole of chapter 8. Eyes.

Not to mention how often he shoots things there. And how observant he tends to be...it just fits, I think.

His role in this AU is more background character oriented, but he's still always aware of what's going on in town, generally speaking. He has a whole web of connections. Eyes everywhere. He knows of everyone, even if they don't know of him, until it's too late. :)

+ Counting his mechanical spider legs, he's got seven limbs in total. One was lost in the last confrontation Vio and Shadow had before Vio found the town. He often uses the extra appendages to quickly stab enemies before a fight even starts, or to climb up to higher places. The chain portion can alternate in length, becoming however long or short he needs them to be, but the actual leg parts cannot be changed. They do register pain, even if they're metal-like.

+ He's got doll-joints mostly to tie into the inorganic, mechanical vibe. They can be ripped off and reattached with minimal effort. Sometimes, he even does it on purpose to get the upper hand in a confrontation. Scarily enough, his movement speed does not decrease.

+ Like most monsters in the Zelda universe, his weak spot is very obvious and straight forward on how to damage. The gem in his chest cavity is fairly fragile, and directly tied to his soul, but despite this, he still walks around with it on open display. This is partially to lure others into thinking he's an easy target, while also being a bit of a power move.

+ He can make a web-like string from the tips of his fingers, but outside setting traps or eavesdropping via the vibrations, he doesn't utilize this very often. He probably could not make an actual spider's web, sadly.

I have many thoughts about what he gets up to while being a Background Character but I will save those for another time.

[thatpersonwhosaidtheywouldnt]

What do you think of these Absolute Flash previews?

Alright I'll got through them one by one.

The first image is gorgeous. I love the way the artist draws the Speed Force (I am assuming it is the Speed Force, admittedly). The typical lightning is not any different but the rectangles are what really make it for me. They drive the perspective of the piece and Wally's motion really well.

Now, getting into the actual pages that were revealed. It is interesting to me that he is in the desert. It makes me wonder if this Wally might not live in the Midwest. The image is giving New Mexico vibes to me but really, could be anywhere from California to Nevada to Utah to New Mexico. Of course this could be a reach. Maybe he ran really far with his new powers, considering the shock on his face, that is just as possible. Something that really interests me is how we keep seeing Wally drawn with the lightning. Not only does he have the lightning around him but also this secondary red image. Perhaps this is just a stylistic choice but to me, it reads as either him being in pain (which would be an interesting choice, hearkening back to the many times Wally has dealt with his powers causing him pain) or as another being grabbing at him. I am wondering if because of the nature of the Absolute Universe, the Speed Force is poisoned in some way. But I am getting into wild speculation territory so lets get to the next page.

The Rogues! Okay, man, do they have a different vibe. Seems pretty likely to me that these Rogues are working with the government. What would make sense to me is that they are perhaps made in particular to go after Wally, a bit of a twist on them developing their weapons in response to him to acts as thieves. Alternatively, they are already an existing government squad that goes after powered individuals. Now the Rogues themselves... it seems clear to me that we have Captain Cold, Golden Glider, and Captain Boomerang. I am unsure who they are going for with the guy in that back. My immediate guess is Trickster, but it could easily be a few people. As to who they are... They could easily be who they are in the main verse, but it is interesting to me that Cold so closely aligns with Rudy West's typical design. I think it isn't much of a stretch to say it could be him (and a number of people have been noting that as well). If he is Rudy, it makes it pretty likely to me that Golden Glider is Iris but that might be a stretch. I am excited to see them, though, and what direction Lemire goes.

Alright, the final page. This one is honestly the one that has me the most pumped. We are getting to see a lot into who Wally is and his family life. I think it is pretty safe to say that he is living with his grandfather, Ira West. His design is basically a one-for-one with his appearances in the mainverse, and he seems too old to be Rudy. Wally living with Ira is honestly a brilliant move, in the least suggesting Wally's parents have remained not the best people in this world. Ira has not been seen in so long, too, so I am excited for the potential. Is he still a scientist here? Maybe he is how Wally gets his powers? Honestly so many cool possibilities. Now as for Wally... Him be a musician is super cool to me. I am really enjoying the vibe we are seeing for him here. Teen Wally in mainverse was written sooo long ago and is obviously very dated and very much obsessed with the Flash. But this is a world without a Flash, so who is Wally without his idol? What is he into? Him playing the guitar with headphones on really reminds me of how teen Wally in the main universe was described as having his head in the clouds. It seems that is the case with this Wally too. I assume the posters and art around him are band posters but I hope we get more of an answer to that when the book comes out.

Overall... I am pumped, honestly. Most looks back at teen Wally we have gotten have been Teen Titans Wally, who fills a specific archetype. I am excited to get a take that is more nuanced. I really hope we have him meeting Linda and Piper and Chunk as a teenager. There is just so much potential for this and I have high hopes.

[lover-of-mine]

I love hearing/reading your thoughts on all things 911 and Buddie … soooooooo …

What are your thoughts on the episode titles so far?

I think 8x03 No Place Like Home could see Bobby back at the 118. That or they really do the someone bumps their head and we get an AU type universe. Like the coma dream, minus the coma haha.

Hello baby 🩷

Okay, so, buzzkill, obviously the bees they've been hitting and Gerrard killing the vibe. Since we know the perfume launch is the pool emergency, I'm thinking about the sol de janeiro drama with the body butter that attracted spiders (unclear if it actually attracted spiders but it does make it for a nice plot for a drama) I'm assuming the perfume will attract bees and create problems, and as someone who unfortunately keeps attracting bugs, my perfumes are all fruit based, it's an actual problem lol, I hope I'm not right about that one because I hate calls with bugs lol, and the bees of it all is just a misdirect, like the blimp in s6, and we're going to get another major plotline probably more personal, like the Athena one following the blimp (fingers crossed for queer Eddie, but I like the madney wedding reception theories people have going around, let the Han throw a party, and I have henren theories), and no place like home, it feels too obvious but all cliffhanger points involve someone coming home, Henren getting Mara back, Chris wanting to come back, and Bobby getting the 118 back, so I'm betting we're getting at least 2 out of the 3, I don't see Gerrard lasting past the opening arc, so Bobby coming back, Mara going home, and maybe Chris giving some indication he wants to come home (I've been living in a buddie land where Eddie is questioning his relationship with Buck throughout the opening arc, since Eddie's queer arc makes more sense being about Buck, where they're having a moment, and Chris calls and says he wants to come back and Eddie kind of freezes, but Buck is moving around getting his keys and rushing to get out and he reaches the door before he notices Eddie is still in the same spot staring at his phone and Buck just goes "are you coming with me to go get him or are you just to stay there?" kinda teasing and Eddie is just staring at him like he's seeing him clearly for the first time before following him and the episode ends and we get something like 704 for Eddie's queer realization just because the show likes to mirror the 2 of them during 804, also because Buck is the only one who doesn't have a clear hook set up from s7 outside the Eddie and Chris of it all, so putting him in the resolution makes sense).

I keep going back to the 119 as a call to a set not an alternative reality, but I can see it being the thing with episode 2, because I'm more intrigued about the way we got the titles for episodes 1 and 3, but not for episode 2 and I don't know if you saw the way I was talking about the way s7 is structurally s2, there's even direct parallels visually from the scene with Gerrard to the scene where Bobby comes back in s2, so I keep going back to an arc that's going to work like the tsunami but follow s5 blackout rules, since s7 also has a lot of triggers that are similar to s4. Both sink or swim and desperate times have a certain intensity that I can see them trying to recreate and an alternative reality/coma dream/hallucination could be a way to add some that in. BUT there's the kid going missing aspect, and the council woman plot makes me 👀 at Denny. Because he's the only one of the kids who didn't have a major "I'm in serious danger" plot yet, May tried to kill herself and she also has the mayday plot, Chris was in the tsunami, Harry was kidnapped and closed into a wall, and I'm ignoring Jee because they wouldn't do that to a toddler. While he had the Eva plot, we know Eva wouldn't actually hurt him and he was unharmed during the lab explosion and with his father, and considering the amount of trauma they keep dumping on Chris and everything about Harry, they're not above hurting the kids and this is a situation that could bring Denny into the middle of the mess and the Mara storyline has a lot of opening to put henren in a similar position Buck was during the tsunami and Athena was during the blackout.

So, so far I'm thinking: Eddie questioning his relationship with Buck leading to a feeling realization because I don't think they'll make Eddie gay, I think they're just gonna have him acknowledge he's in love with Buck, Bobby and Athena dealing with the house burning down and getting Bobby back to the 118, Henren trying to get Mara back and maybe something happening to Denny to further that, and parallel to that, the Mara plot triggering a Madney second kid plot. I'm also thinking maybe they can use madneys backyard in the same way they used to use the Grant Nash one and have madney throwing a party. Is it a wedding reception? Is it celebrate Bobby coming back? The adoption going through? Who knows. And getting a parallel to May's graduation party where Madney leaves because Maddie figures out she might be pregnant with Buck and Eddie leaving to go get Chris in a similar vision like the one described up there.

[ronearoundblindly]

If its ok what if

Lloyd hansen x reader x steve rogers

🥵 smutt

ya know, it took me a loooong time--this ask is from september--to come up with something, but today's the day apparently! And, AND! The lovely @darsynia made me an awesome graphic whilst I wrote all this filth! Thank you, bestie!!! WC 3.3k

Warnings for oh fuck these two are terrors, smut, goddamn fighting (obviously, bc they can't get along in any universe), possibly the worst fucking puns ever and I no longer care, terrible/inaccurate/but very mild dom/sub vibes, not much but knife play. Please note that this work does not involve the two men together. Alternate title: Ro is 1,000% [nope, better make it 1,000,000%] going to hell. MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you!

You can tell Steve is about to crawl out of his skin as the knife touches yours.

"You buy these pretty things for me?" Lloyd coos, tucking the point of his switchblade beneath a lacy seam. He knows damn well the navy set with bright red hearts is not for his enjoyment at all, so he turns his head to stare at your husband.

"Useless," Lloyd growls, flicking his wrist deftly.

The sliced fabric springs back to reveal your thatch of hair. You have no idea whether Lloyd was talking about your panties or Steve, and frankly, you're too turned on to care. There’s a certain amount of goading you expected aimed at the awkward hunk leaning on the far wall.

Steve clenches his arms tighter across his chest and sucks in a breath, eyes darting to your skin in case Lloyd drew blood, but his gaze lingers at your almost exposed core.

He hates this whole idea, but you have tried talking to him so many times about how to make sex more interesting. Steve can't stand to even listen to the words much less do what you want. This is the compromise.

Lloyd Hansen will do anyone for the right price, and sure, usually, that's killing, but who doesn't love a good fuck? Who wouldn't get half-hard just thinking about taking Captain America's wife to pound town right in front of the guy?

Lloyd simply smirks, returning his eyes to you and nudging the lace a little farther. The flat of the blade on your mound feels cold and so fucking dangerous that you shiver, neck tensing to throw your head back.

"How's that feel, pumpkin?"

"Golden," you whine, mewling when he nicks the other end and pulls your panties off. Lloyd doesn't like safe words and shit, but he agreed to a few check-ins, and you do have a way to stop him because, let's face it, the money is the real goal for him. The rest is gravy.

Lloyd stalks over to Steve's corner of the room, lifting the ruined garment for the other to take. "A souvenir--" he chuckles "--what's that smell like to you, huh, big man?"

Steve grimaces, unmoving, so Lloyd shoves your panties in his face.

"Smells like team spirit to me."

You should laugh. You really should. You should not fucking moan when you see Steve's chest expand and his eyes flutter shut briefly. You should not have such a surge of tingling heat race to your center that your thighs slam together.

But you do. And Lloyd notices.

"This is gonna be fun," he whispers, likely to himself, as he drops the fabric and walks over again.

His fingertips slide from your knee up your thigh, and Lloyd bends to nip at your neck.

"Lie back from me, sweetheart. Go on."

You have to cover a squeak while you flop onto the mattress. This sort of dominance is nothing like Steve Rogers even on his most confident day. Steve is always measured and a little tentative, his force reined in to the point of being boring after so many years. This is all flush and feral with the promise of oblivion, and in the strangest way, you still associate every second as with Steve, not Lloyd Hansen. The exercise in trust--the sheer fact that he was willing to entertain this idea, much less the practice--is a show of devotion from Steve you never thought possible.

And then Lloyd kneels down and pushes your legs apart. "Open up for me. That's it. Good girl."

"Ah fuck," you moan into your hand, and thank god if Steve does hear you, he doesn't say a thing.

Lloyd skips finesse and plunges into the dirty end of the pool by licking all the way up and down your cunt, hands spreading your ass to expose every bit of you to him, and he pauses to speak with his mouth against your clit.

"Do I need to give him a lesson or can I just fucking taste you?"

"I know how to--" but Steve's protest dies behind the noise Lloyd makes sloppily eating you out like a man starved.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his head, and your hips buck into the wild ride. His mustache burns in the best way. You gasp so much that your throat burns dry, too.

He says other things, things that rumble up your spine and settle deep in your brain, but you can't process what those words are until the white-hot lightning finally cracks your body apart.

Lloyd is shockingly soothing as you come back down from your high but unshockingly smug when he sweeps his face clean of your cum.

"You're doing star-spangled spectacularly for me, slut, now why don't--"

There's a thunderclap of noise that wrenches you out of your bliss. You’re knocked onto your side as Lloyd falls to the floor.

Steve raises his arm again but hesitates when you call his name.

"He doesn't...he doesn't do well with language like that," you manage to say, still fuzzy and out of breath.

Lloyd wipes blood from his nose. "Yeah, I picked up on that. Thanks,” he spits sarcastically, followed by a real spit to clear his mouth. “Down, boy. I'll play nice--" he winks at you as he rises "--but not too nice."

Lloyd climbs back to sit on the edge of the bed beside you, his hand spreading over your throat gently. "Feels good, don't it? Feeling golden?"

You nod vigorously.

He licks more blood from his lip. “Yeah? Can we move on, pumpkin, or is your pussy still needy—“

Lloyd catches Steve's fist this time, jumping up to punch your husband square in the neck.

Steve, to his credit, doesn't even go down, but he drops his arm and steps back, rubbing the point of contact as he wheezes for a minute.

"Can I please continue?" Lloyd screams in annoyance. The man is not in any way used to sharing, or going slow, or giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room for that matter. However, Lloyd is a dedicated professional, so he’ll continue because he knows what’s in it for him. "God damn it,” he barks, spitting at Steve’s feet.

Lloyd takes a beat to compose himself and returns to your side, facing away now, his hand plunging between your legs.

"Time to earn participation points, Golden Boy." Two fingers breach your entrance without warning. "On your knees."

Lloyd snaps his other fingers and points to the ground like he's training a dog to heel.

Slowly, with wide eyes and hesitant steps, Steve places himself exactly as Lloyd did before. He strategically keeps his focus glued to yours until the squelching sound of Lloyd's fingers thrusting in and out of you becomes too loud to ignore.

That look--that fucking moment where your husband sees your core and hunger darkens his whole face--could send you back over the edge right here, but suddenly, Lloyd stops.

"Now we've got his attention," the cruel man laughs.

Like your panties before, there's no ceremony to Lloyd shoving his fingers into Steve's awe-parted lips, but the biggest shock is how your husband doesn't fight the intrusion. No. Steve grabs Lloyd's wrist to keep him there until Steve is done sucking your taste off another man's fingers.

You're pretty sure that's when your soul left your body, but it's a toss-up between that and every other moment tonight.

With more patience than you thought possible, Lloyd waits, comically making an “O” with his mouth and looking at you. “Someone’s eager for the beaver, I see.” He takes the same wet fingers and tucks them between your breasts, snapping the front of your bra sharply against your sternum. 

“Finish unwrapping your present. I wanna see what you got—” and when Steve immediately reaches behind your back for the clasp, Lloyd’s eyebrows bob up and down “—and he’s good at following orders, too.”

Your husband plants a gentle kiss on the swell of one breast before Lloyd stops him, tutting while he holds a fucking knife against Captain America’s chest to sit him back on his heels.

He ticks the blade down. “That’s your half now. This is mine.”

You’re practically panting while Steve’s eyes go hard in possessiveness, locked onto Lloyd in a challenge you don’t quite understand until the fancy man flips the blade back into it’s handle.

“Fine,” Lloyd grouches, tossing the knife farther up the bed. He shuffles closer to face you, a warm hand cupping your breast before he tweaks the nipple harshly. “Why don’t you relax for us, huh, good girl?”

Lloyd coaxes you to lean back again, orders Steve to hold your legs open and tease you, buries painful fingers in your hair, and forces you to watch.

“That’s it. Don’t you want to hear her beg? Doesn’t she sound so sweet? Oh, I like her desperate…”

Not in years has Steve Rogers whispered anything so filthy as the shit that falls from Lloyd’s mouth, but goddamn, every word is like kindling stoking the vigor with which Steve consumes you. You lap up the praise while your husband gulps down every ounce created by every word.

Lloyd lowers to suck and bite all over your chest, marks blossoming across the tender skin as he takes a sort of sweet revenge for his bloody nose. A kink for a kink.

“You want to tell him what’s next,” Lloyd rasps, straining your neck back to look at him in the last few moments before you come again, “or should I?” His devilish smile is the last thing you see before he pushes you to meet Steve’s eyes, the perfect, final flick of tongue rolling over your clit.

Dutifully—sweetly almost—Steve lifts away from you as your legs shake, replacing his face with his fingers to gently bring you down, and Lloyd does not like that. He swats Steve’s hand off to slap your raw bundle of nerves and shove his fingers in again, brutally hitting that spongy spot until the dam of orgasm doesn’t just rupture, it explodes inside you.

You cry out and flail. Lloyd pins you down with a knee to your ribcage, and it hurts but not enough to give a shit over the rush of cum soaking his hand and the sheets below. Steve holds your ankles so you don’t kick him in the face while squirming, transfixed on every move Lloyd makes to milk you stupid.

With one last wet slap, Lloyd rests his hand on your belly and tosses a gelled lock of hair out of his face.

“Wifey here wants to suck you dry,” he boasts, and your hands fly to your face in hot embarrassment.

You confessed that after drinking quite a lot during the ‘negotiation’ of terms for this little arrangement, but only when Steve excused himself to the restroom. Lloyd wasn’t supposed to repeat your fantasy.

“That’s right, big guy. She’s gonna blow your—“ his eyes drop and raise “—mind,” he continues, unpinning you and pushing your arms to the side. He leans down to smear your own slick across your mouth messily, quietly adding, “he won’t even notice I’m right behind you.”

The air rushes out of your lungs before you can stop it, making a downright pathetic sound of anticipation.

“Strip,” Lloyd commands, waving a hand casually at Steve and sauntering over to a bottle of water on the dresser. “The…uh…lady should get on her knees.”

Steve turns to the other wall, unable to meet your eye, bright red blotches spotting his neck and cheeks. He’s embarrassed, too, but from the speed at which he unzips his jeans to relieve his still-straining erection and then pulls his shirt over his head, Steve is also painfully aroused. You even catch him rubbing his cock with each conceivable pass while disrobing. It reignites that weak fire between your tired legs.

“Face up, Captain. Give ‘er some room,” Lloyd snorts, capping his water.

Of course, Steve spreads his legs in front of you, and instead of acknowledging how fucking hard he is, he helps you balance into position.

You capture a quick kiss and smile as your husband blushes even more.

“Jesus, I’m gonna vomit,” Lloyd mutters behind you.

He’s just so, so fucking evil, but you admit the contrast has you drooling to get your mouth on Steve. You’re already planning on adding orders to your regular routine. You buzz with excitement at all this play implies, now and in the future.

Steve isn’t just letting this happen; he likes what’s happening.

Lloyd’s warm hand pets down your spine until it rests heavily on your lower back, the heel of it pressed against your spread ass, an encouragement and a threat.

“Take him how you want. Just like you told me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to Steve’s ragged breaths amidst Lloyd's criticism.

“You don’t just lick him, do you, kitten? You can do better than that. I thought you wanted to swallow him whole. Don’t disappoint me now. More. You can take it. More.”

Your nose nuzzles into Steve’s pelvis as you feel his cock jump in your throat. You swallow around him but force yourself up for air after.

“Is that the best you got?” Lloyd teases, his hand sliding tauntingly down your crack and through your folds before he’s gone.

You open your eyes when he grabs your wrist and presses the closed switchblade into your palm.

“Go on. Hold it, pumpkin. Right there.” Lloyd makes your hand rest on Steve’s thigh. For balance, you have to open your fist and press the metal to your husband’s skin as you take him back into your mouth.

Steve fucking groans, pinching his eyes shut and grabbing the sheets beneath him.

“Oh yeah,” Lloyd chirps, “he likes a bit of danger, huh?” A flat hand cracks against your ass, making you whine with your lips around Steve’s dick.

The sound of Steve whimpering is coupled with the snap of Lloyd's belt. His fingers return, and you just know he’s unabashedly staring at your pussy.

“Whoo-ee, if you weren’t already gaping for me, I’d think you weren’t into this. Put your back into it.” You hear the rip of a zipper only moments before the thick tip of him lines up.

You can’t help but moan low and long over Steve’s length.

“Baby?” Steve breathes above you.

“She’s fine,” Lloyd answers instead, pushing in. The head of him pops past the first ridge of your walls, and his hand clamps down on your hip, the other flat over the small of your back, guiding, controlling.

The spit of both men coats your core and inner thighs, you remember, and the slow swirl of ambient air proves it. That thought makes your eyes roll back as much as the glorious pressure of Lloyd’s cock filling you.

But Steve’s fingers find your chin and raise you to look at him, repeating his question until you let him fall heavy from your mouth and lick your swollen lips.

“Golden,” you say just as Lloyd bottoms out. “Fff-ahh.” You barely stop yourself from cursing when he thrusts forward and another SMACK hits your ass. “Golden,” you promise, because you know Steve is watching with extremely mixed feelings.

You return what attention you can to stuffing your mouth full. A rhythm progresses while you rock between them, but it’s too gentle for—of all people—Steve.

His hand knots through your hair to guide you faster. You have to plant yourself steady on the mattress, the knife digging into both your flesh, and hold your hips still.

Lloyd isn’t even fazed as he takes over his own selfish pace, his balls slapping so hard they sting your thighs. He keeps talking, too.

“See how much she likes that, buddy?”

Oh, that is not going to go over well with Steve.

“Bet she’d drop to her knees for you daily.”

He’s not wrong there…

“Damn, babygirl—“ Oh shit “—sometimes a bitch just needs fucked doggy-style.”

You can feel Steve’s chest fill to correct him, the deep v-line of his Adonis’ belt pressing against your nose to cut off your air, but Lloyd purposefully slams into you. You lurch forward to deep-throat Steve with a scream of alarm, and the constriction nearly topples Steve over the edge.

Just for a moment, his hand holds you down, choking you. It’s Steve choking you on his dick, and your nails happily dig into his meaty thighs. You’ve dreamed of this day.

With a strangled sound, Steve pulls you off him, strings of spit drip from your abused mouth. You’re gasping for air but also not done enjoying yourself, so you lick and kiss up Steve’s length until ready to take him again.

All the while, Lloyd darkly chuckles and kneads at your ass.

When one spanking lands so hard that you cry out, Steve bucks down your throat and punches the bed, clearly torn between sensation and situation. 

“Such an asshole,” he grits through clenched teeth. 

“Oh,” Lloyd tuts, “she wants it in the ass? Well, when in Rome…” He swipes his thumb over the cream pooling at the base of his cock and shoves his thumb hard against your puckered hole. 

Honestly, you have no idea if it even breached because you scream and fall forward on Steve's dick. This time, Steve comes with a roar, a raging, animalistic thing you have never heard before, but you’re pulled away just as fast. 

Lloyd hauls you up to his chest, telling you to look at what a fucking mess your husband is for you. Steve desperately grips himself until it’s over, half his spend glistening on his abs, half rolling down your chin while Lloyd continues to thrust into your sweet spot.

He’s given up controlling his language entirely.

“Fuck, she’s close. Come on, big guy—“ he pinches your nipple and bites at your neck “—finish her off.”

Lloyd drops you like a stone into Steve’s waiting arms, and Steve wastes no time slamming his mouth to yours and furiously rubbing your clit. You’re so stretched out that three of his thick fingers feel like nothing until they curl.

This time you can’t help but shout your own curse. Steve just keeps kissing you, holding you two together as you writhe. You hardly notice Lloyd painting his cum across your back and ass but neither does Steve, it seems, because the next thing you know you’re laying beside your husband in bed while your guest grins in triumph.

“I’ll just take this,” Lloyd drawls, reaching beneath Steve’s bare leg to retrieve his knife. He slaps Steve’s ass, too. It’s as if Lloyd knows Steve will let him get away with just about anything in the post-coital fog. “Don’t want you to feel left out, buddy.”

Your husband makes no move at all except to kiss your forehead.

“How are you?” He smooths your wrecked hair out of your face.

“Oh wow,” you say with a rough voice and runaway breaths, “I’m golden, just golden.”

Lloyd grabs his water bottle, joking. “My work here is done, and you two—“ he swigs and swallows dramatically “—I don't mind repeat business from. Anytime. Fuck.” 

He struts to the bathroom, pants still undone and hanging open, uncaring. With a shout, he slaps the top of the door frame.

“That’s America’s Cunt!”

Steve’s whole body tenses. “I hate that guy,” he grumbles into your sweaty skin.

You snuggle closer, surrounded by familiar body heat and musk. “I know. Isn't it great?” 

Because it’s so, so true. There is nothing about Lloyd Hansen you actually want for one second longer than necessary. That's the beauty of teamwork: everyone serves their purpose.

Honorable mention to the line I promised but ultimately couldn't fit in (that's what she said):

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[docholligay]

Shamash Day Points: Live action round one

The question for this was: You get all the rights to adapt a piece of media that has never received a television show (so, no Sailor Moon, for example, but movies are allowed) INTO a television show. Tell me about your vision! How many seasons? Most importantly to noncompliant bitches who are me: What are you tweaking from the source?

Some of these were BATSHIT, and that was EXACTLY what I wanted. Bless you fucking all. 2 of you I could not tag, so check.

3rd place, one point:

So, I want to say Overwatch based on your fics but that feels too easy so let's take this in a completely weird opposite direction: a sitcom. I'm gonna call it… Tiny Woman, Big Gorilla.

Obviously, the two main characters are Winston and Lena. (Other OW characters can also be there.) They're roommates, of course. And it's all about their lives in London and the friends and enemies they make along away. Except there's no superhero stuff so this is just, like, Lena slept with Amélie who works at her favorite pastry shop (French, of course) and now Lena can't get her absolute favorite desert without dealing with their absolute nightmare of a breakup and her entire world is ending. (And, yes, Amélie still gives off assassin vibes which is a very strange vibe to get from the person who's helping you pick out which flavor of macaron to get.)

Every time people start talking too loudly about Lena being not-a-lesbian a particularly gay episode will come out. (Plus side to sitcoms? Everything resets so I can literally hold these episodes in reserve.)

People are constantly clamoring about whether or not Winston will get a relationship but the writers and I are terrified to go anywhere near that can of worms. However, in fairness to Winston who does deserve all the love in the world, we do flip a coin: heads, Winston is in a relationship; tails, he's not (yet). So far, it's always come up tails but we all know this is only delaying the inevitable; some day it will come up heads and the reckoning will be upon us.

Winston's existence is never explained. There are no other gorillas like him, this is very obvious without straight up being said, but it's never explained why or how it happened. He's just there, being a gorilla who is also a person. It drives fans batty and theories abound but whenever we're asked we just smile mysteriously (or smirk obnoxiously dependent on how annoyed we are by the asker).

It goes on for checks how many seasons Supernatural was around 16 seasons. (Listen, the idea of there being more Supernatural in the world than Tiny Woman, Big Gorilla is awful and I will not stand for it.) I end up full on Xena-ing it to make it last for 16 seasons. There are flashback episodes to Winston and Lena in their past lives (yes, plural). There are episodes about them being reincarnated into the future. There's even one about them going to an alternate universe where they're heroes who fight bad guys. There's a Lena doppelganger. There are multiple Lena doppelgangers. There's a Winston doppelganger. (You'd think a Winston doppelganger would explain some things. It doesn't.) There are no rules I will not break and no storey too stupid, as long as I can make 16 seasons happen.

It's ends, as most sitcoms do, stupidly sappy. Lena and Emily have, of course, had multiple kids by the point (16 seasons, people!) and we do the flash forward to a huge friendiversy party for Lena and Winston (because, yes, they throw one because of course they would and also because that's 16 episodes already partially written). Grandkids are there and friends and jokes referencing precious episodes are bantered about. Everything is happy and joyous as they pose for a group shot. The shutter blinks and it zooms out to show the picture being slipped into a thick file labeled Winston that is obviously some sort of dossier and BAM straight to black.

Suck on that, fans.

@madegeeky this is directly pandering to me, but boy is it detailed in every way I asked for while also being completely different from most other answers (75% of answers were fantasy.sci-fi series, and about 75% of those were YA), and as it turns out, I can be pandered to! Also i love Tiny Woman, Big Gorilla as a concept and also that they basically are living in a day to day sitcom now. I think my only question is: what job does Lena have if she's not a combat pilot/field operative? Give me a fun answer and I'll give you an extra point.

2nd place, 2 points

Oh, I want to say Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern, which was originally written in the 1960s and I read them before using critical thinking on them. I developed a fondness for them, despite some power structures that are fucking messed up, the slapping of women, and the fact that Brekke said No, multiple times, before F'nor took her into the jungle and and helped her to realize that she actually meant Yes. That's all shit that needs to come out and would be absolutely on my cut list.

The whole structure of the dragons in the Weyrs just wouldn't work - like 5-6 queen dragons bonded only to women and whose dragons are responsible for keeping the population of dragons in the Weyrs. Then men can only ride bronze, brown, and blue and only a bronze dragon can mate with a gold dragon. Only in later books do women start riding the other non-breeding female green dragons (which makes things real interesting considering that McCaffrey also jumped around the timeline). It just doesn't work, so massive changes would be necessary. I say brown, blue, and green are open to riders of any gender. However, bronze riders are pretty much designated as the leaders of the dragon squadrons, with browns getting the second in command position. So that won't work either!

Can I have it be inspired the books, but also be nothing like the books except dragons fighting Thread (an organism from space that eats all carbon based life forms it touches)? 'Cause I'm going to have throw things out whole cloth and figure out how to fix them and then reconfigure how to have some of storylines… ('Cause if we change the structure of the Weyrs there goes the Brekke and F'nor drama that happens, because F'nor rides a brown and Brekke a queen and as I said before those two aren't supposed to mate and since Brekke came from a Hold, is not so keen on the idea of multiple partners - take the dragon colors away and you lose that plot line - which is ultimately resolved by the death of Brekke's Wireneth, since Queens can't share bronzes and if two queens rise to mate at the same, well then we get a dragon on dragon fight.).

Also fuck it, I'm taking out that Gary Stu of a white dragon Ruth - always knows when he is and where he is. Because, I haven't mentioned this, dragons can teleport in this universe, not just to different places, but to different times, which would be the second season issue. First season would be set up with Lessa and F'lar (F'nor's older half-brother) assuming leadership of Benden Weyr.

Anyway, I'm supposed to get multiple seasons for the 9th pass, but due to budget constraints - (CGI dragons are expensive), letting Weyrs be the sexy parties they're supposed to be which angers the Conservatives and the Liberals remembering out the McCaffrey had some bad takes on LGBTQ. Show is cancelled before it can be finished, which is fine, because I haven't even gotten to the clusterfuck that is taking starship engines and making them go Boom on Red Star (where Thread comes from) to knock it just out of orbit that there will be no more Thread after the ninth pass.

I will regret the chance not do the prequel series of humans landing on a planet to colonize it, discovering Thread, and having to bioengineer the dragons. Along with the Moreta mini-series, which will be shelved, because there's a strong message in that one about out when there's a pandemic getting vaccinated.

…

You know what, I think I want to do live in that Sci-Fi world. No, wait, I think Covid10 has just proven that Dragonriders of Pern is a Fantasy World since everyone gets vaccinated when there's a global pandemic.

@uofmdragon oh my god I read Dragonriders of Pern when I was, I think, 12? 13? And it was part of what made me say, "I think I'm done reading fantasy for now" ahahahaha. This took me right back there! I don't think I got as far as you did though, because some of this had me saying, "Fucking what now??" And yes you can have it inspired by the books! Honestly given what I just read above that might be best.

first place, 3 points

It’s The School for Good and Evil, I get three seasons, and I outright refuse to adapt the second book, because it’s homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic trash. Instead, I am taking the stuff from the sequel series and using that to caulk over the gaps.

The first book/season still ends in Agatha kissing her best friend Sophie back to life and then both of them going back to their hometown. I would show this horrible world EXACTLY as it is, including the canonical slavery. I am also stealing a bit from the book of the movie but that’s only going to be hinted this season, not revealed.

The second season, like the book, opens with Sophie lying to everyone about being in Agatha’s place, wearing Agatha’s dress, and dating Agatha’s boyfriend, but she will actually be called out for this, because instead of the arrows crashing through her father’s second wedding? She’s going to have the people from the School crash the vanity performance and publicly call her out for lying. It’s also going to be a season of Agatha learning to NOT indulge this behavior because people WILL catch on and it WILL cause damage.

This is juxtaposed with Agatha’s boyfriend being hit with a fake half-brother who’s trying to steal his throne. Both of them are Anti Sophie, but the half-brother puts on a facade of being interested in her to get her to play along and dangle the possibility of being queen-which she REALLY WANTS-in front of her to string her along so he can get her powers on his side. Agatha spends this time learning the meat of leadership while her boyfriend, who KNOWS the basics, learns to apply them better.

Sophie finds out she’s being strung along and it turns into a huge battle at the end of the season, leading to Agatha’s boyfriend triumphing over his fake half-brother and Sophie being tricked into resurrecting the School Master, the Big Bad from the first season.

The School Master spends the first half of the third season talking Sophie into taking his side, and he succeeds, only for the back half of the season to be about Sophie realizing she’s been conned and that he’s pulled this con with multiple other female (former) students…including her favorite teacher (here is where those hints pay off!). I feel this is an improvement on her being his ally from the first page and spending AGES actively refusing to leave him instead of wising up.

Agatha has spent this time being mentored and growing as a person and getting real confidence. She meets her mother’s family during the third season. Sophie’s parental drama of “my “saintly” mother actually drugged and raped my father to get him to marry her” stays the same, but there is no secret sister reveal. Agatha instead learns about how Evil (her mother’s family is born on that side) was trying to find out the truth all along and a spotlight on how badly the School Master fucked them over.

I also punt the sexist, entitled brat pursuing Sophie off a cliff during the second season. The half-brother is getting rid of a rival. I am getting rid of an annoyance.

Agatha’s boyfriend’s drama with his dead dad, his mom, and his mom’s boyfriend that she ran off with is also a running subplot of the third season. They don’t really reconcile so much as he, like Agatha, learns that setting healthy boundaries and only putting the trust people have demonstrated they’re worthy of doesn’t mean you have to cut someone off. You can still have a relationship with them! But they’re not entitled to closeness they haven’t earned.

Also Sophie’s dad sucks and we can show that he sucks. He can be wronged by his late wife and still suck as a person and parent.

IndigoMay, congratulations, this is nuts. I feel like I'm having a stroke just reading this. I can feel the insanity and passion pouring offthe page. I love that this book series is very clearly not good but you are absofuckingluitely going to make it good by the sheer power of your belief that it could be. This is like my plan to adapt Mortal Kombat. It's bad, but I can fix her!

[whattraintracks]

Okay, so we’re doing this 

Intro: 

I’m sorry with the rain and trench coats all I can think about is “The Maltese Hamster”

oop that’s Karai’s voice 

Present Timeline: 

chatting about the latest adventure with the bestie 

and looking at matrices. Donny is STEM goals 

Time Scepter: so whatchu thinking about?

Donatello’s Brain: indecipherable matrix assault

Time Scepter: oh my gosh, please send him anywhere but here quick quick quickquickquick 

hence he was sent to the future of a near timeline as opposed to an entirely alternate reality 

kidding 

hmm so he’s looking into time travel and alternate dimension related calculations

interesting that this got him sent to the future instead of the past like he and April were talking about 

I’ve seen this scene three times now and it is never not funny how Raph arrives just in time to deliver a sick burn 

Lair Ruins: 

the obvious Chekov's gun of the Tunneler is sending me 

largely because I would not have noticed it if I didn’t already know so much about this episode 

also this has video game vibes 

your character just woke up and starts spouting ominous observations about the environment 

Mike sighting! 

ooh spiky nunchaku 

oh my gosh I am so ready for extremely competent adult mutant ninja turtle fight scenes you have no idea 

ahhhhhhh angry Mike hurts so much 

Montage Across the City: 

the music does not have to go this hard but I am in love with it (p.s. still feeling this way post episode, that soundtrack was phenomenal) 

with Mike’s “We were a team! Without you it just didn’t work.” I can see the back and forth of ‘SAINW happened because it was Donny specifically that disappeared’ and ‘actually this would have happened if any of them had disappeared’ 

Rebel HQ: 

Angel name drop! she has commandos!?! get it girl 

Splinter and Casey both believed Don would come back /sobs/ 

I’m sorry is that Baxter Stockman? in the resistance?? 

I mean, of course he’s alive, cockroach man that he is, but in the resistance??? 

and Hun!?!? 

oh my gosh Hun you’re so melodramatic please 

wild to me that Donny shows up, checks the place out, and just says imma fix this and everyone goes along with it 

I have to wonder 

how long have they been waiting for him to do this exact thing that despite three decades of fear and pain and grief and betrayal and anger and everything else they don’t even question him, they just act? 

how long have they been waiting for Donatello to come back with hope and plan that they couldn’t say no? 

Shredder’s Palace: 

thinking about the cut taxidermy plot and Karai’s report is hilarious 

‘hi. yes, master, it’s me. you know that stuffed turtle you have? someone just saw him running around town. yeah he was attacking our men. killer makeover, doesn’t even look dead’ 

wait isn’t there a Leo centric episode in season four called prodigal son? 

and Shredder just called Don the prodigal son.

oh that comparison is going to ruin me 

Shredder's like nope. I've only made it this far with him gone. make him gone again. 

Some Building IDK: 

wow it is on sight between Leo and Raph 

have they been fighting about the same thing for 30 years? good golly. 

how many times has Donny had to separate these two by whacking them with his bo that was clearly well practiced 

ah I see they were saving the questions, concerns, and rising action for Leo and Raph 

newtrauma what nows? some kind of Utrom soldier? welp guess I'll find out (p.s. transcript says Utrominators so did Leo but the cc said neutromenators so I got lost) 

Shredder’s Palace Again: 

oh well done Donatello! very dramatic entrance! excellent presentation! nailed that cheesy heroic one-liner! 

April came! . . . and so did Hun+Baxter 

ouch that did not end well for them 

OH MY HECK WAIT REWIND THE BRAIN IS BRAINING 

Donny and April (normal timeline) were specifically thinking about UNCLE AUGGIE 

who DISAPPEARED 

so Donny got sent to a universe where HE disappeared 

I’ve connected the dots 

okay back to the show 

Mike seems to be taking the lead here and I like that very much 

wait I wanted the fight scenes but I didn’t want this part /sobs/ 

I’m sorry is Karai still trying to pull the old ‘I actually like you guys don’t make me do something I don’t wanna do’ like girl frickin commit already 

noooooooo—wait how did she slash through his shell? you know what, nevermind—oooooooooooooooo!!! 

gahhhhh Raph's death was so much worse. doesn't matter how prepared I was. I was not 

hooray April with the bazooka! but also girl where were you T^T 

“you are the last of your kind, Donatello” oh that’s particularly cruel 

it’s giving ‘alas, poor yorick’ 

holy crap April 

alone in the ruins of Shredder’s throne room surrounded by the bodies of all that’s left of her family and an entire ruined world to rebuild 

geez Don leave her the easy job 

[saltlickmp3]

tell me about christopher ecclestons doctor vs david tennats doctor

or explain what the hell is goin on with the daleks

or you could tell me about (insert musician)’s influence on music

just some options for you to lore dump to :)

RAHHHHHHH OKAY THANK YOUUUU this will be um. super spoilery for doccy whomst.

okayyyy so christopher eccleston plays the ninth doctor who tragically only gets one season AND HE'S SO FABULOUS he's really funny and sarcastic and he says 'fantastic! :D' a lot and is also a massive dork and yayyyy i love him - the interesting thing with nine is that we dont see his regeneration. like we don't see him come into being but its implied that the incarnation before him was horribly injured in The Time War and then became nine, who wanders around alone for a bit racked with guilt and lonely and full of regret and all that fun stuff until he meets ROSE :DDD who pretty much says you're super weird & offputting but also the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me and he's like cool uhm. maybe i do need friends after all so then he takes her on a date to the destruction of her planet to show off that he wasnt kidding about the time machine bit. he also has a really cool leather jacket. and a northern english accent and a sliiiiightly butch lesbian buzzcut. anyways he's very fabulous and also kinda tragic but yeah!! i love him.

BUT THEN universe under massive threat from daleks etc the only way to save the world will be massively catastrophic etc etc so he sends rose home to save her. and she is understandably super upset by this so she ABSORBS THE HEART OF THE TARDIS (pro tip : usually people dont survive that) so she can get back to him, resurrect this other guy who kissed them both and rewrite time so that this will definitely always happen & also destroys a whole lot of daleks. this is called BAD WOLF (<- the capital letters are important. to me.) and its killing her so nine kisses her to pull it out of her (she doesnt remember this) so it kills him instead. then *magicical girl transformation* he explodes into golden light and becomes david tennant!!!!!

david tennant is the tenth doctor and I LOBVE HIM FORVER ADN EVER my specialest little scrunkly girlboy pathetic wet cat terrifying alien guy-shaped-being <33333. rose is understandably like wtf who're you (because the doctor Never does timelord 101 and tells them about regeneration and the two hearts thing) and he is sad about it. so he takes her home. then passes out in front of her mother and sort-of-boyfriend who're also like wtf. anyways he's fine and rose pretty immediately is like wow this guy is actually beautiful & way less grumpy now and they go n do a whole bunch of stuff and they very clearly love each other A Lot (like she loves him when he's nine too of course but it changes) and in my head it's teenage lesbian undefined relationship mutual obsession b/c those be the vibes. a Thing happens and she end up trapped in an alternate universe from which she can never return and the doctor manages to hologram himself in there for a minute to say goodbye and HE ALMOST SAYS I LOVE YOU TO HER but the connection runs out. a lot of other stuff happens and ten is actually pretty scary at points in a way that nine never gets to and A Lot happens to him. my beautiful babygirl she has Every Problem.

see cos the doctor is actually massively emotionally repressed and while nine was a lot closer time-wise to destroying his own planet, ten was coping a whole lot less. ten is often described as the most emotional and most human of the doctors and thats probably true but he's also the most afraid of that vulnerability - he just cant help showing it. he's full of love but he's also full of a desperate sadness and guilt. a lot of guilt. nine has this guilt and the love he just has found a way to not be so raw with it. he is far more measured with his emotions. i reallllllllyyyyyyyy wish we could have seen what would have been done with his character had we got more time with him but alas t'was not to be.

like a good example of that is when we meet nine he's been alone for some time and appears to be more or less okay with that, maybe not super happy but more or less adjusted and functioning. when ten is alone for a while he sort of loses it a bit until he find someone..... like after he and rose get separated, and i mean IMMEDIATLY AFTER, he meets donna who I LOVE :D but he's still so racked with grief that he kills a whole race of spider things and canonically would've destroyed himself along with them if she hadn't been there to tell him to stop. (like legitimately there's an episode, Turn Left, about what would've happened if the doctor died and it's uhm. its unnerving to say the least). ten can't deal with being alone but Also can't deal with loving someone. especially when he is so very aware that he has to lose them.

ten has three seasons & then a year of specials, and he has and then loses the most companions of the doctor and the way he deals with this is Fascinating. he is separated from rose, martha leaves of her own volition b/c she realises that she cant spend her whole life living For Him and that she deserves her own life too, and then he has to wipe donna's memory to save her (she gets it back like. fifteen years for her and ~1000 years for the doctor later but thats a whole thing). like nine does the whole 'no one can get close to me because i will always end up hurting when they die/leave and that will usually be my fault' thing BUT TEN. TEN feels the same way he just can't help himself from making friends and falling in love (grayaroace) with everyone he meets and still being emotionally destroyed when they die. nine's way of coping with the guilt of the time war is to push people away in the first place and ten's is Never Stop To Think Never Stop To Examine Feelings. so yeah. lots of fun.

ALSO the daleks!! theres a ton of lore to them as well, but in short they're genetically modified creatures who have been selectively bred by this guy davros (who has major darth vader vibes. down to the voice and the mechanically supported body) to only feel hate and want to destroy everyone who is not a dalek. they're these weird little things that kinda look like rubbery octopuses inside the metal thing (they're not robots they are actually alive) and they suck. also they're really hard to get rid of like. i swear at least five times the doctor says 'this is the last of the daleks' like bestie just you wait about half a season. the daleks and the timelords (the doctor's species) fought The Time War which really really sucked and they're mortal enemies. so yeah!

[sarasa-cat]

Today I did something a little different. Rather than going to one of the coffee shops I normally go to when I want to sit and work (or read) in that kind of environment, I went to a coffee shop that I normally DO NOT go to.

As for this other shop, it is in an odd location because there are no other businesses at around it -- just a coffee shop in the middle of a residential neighborhood. Also, this shop is very anti-internet. It purposefully does NOT have wifi. Seating space is a little bit limited inside --- maybe a half dozen small tables. But there is a bar with bar stools plus a bunch of outdoor seating (weather permitting or bravery willing).

While there, I took my moleskine-sized iPad mini + apple pencil and just wrote, by hand (digitally, into a digital note-taking ap), a total of 500 words. Go me.

What fascinated me (beyond the good coffee) was how this shop receives a totally. different. crowd. from other coffee shops in the area. No wifi, limited seating? Well, none of the youngish folks pounding away on their laptops or studying/doing uni assignments.

While I want to say that the crowd skewed older (as in grey hair and up there in decades of lived life), that is a little bit of a lie. The crowd was actually all ages but just So Differently Vibed.

People reading newspapers and doing crossword puzzles (mostly the older men with white hair). Folks writing words by hand on paper in physical notebooks that are the basic "back to school special" spiral bound notebooks rather than yuppie-ish $35 posh notebooks. Groups of two or occasionally three friends who are just chatting. A grandmotherly looking woman reading a novel.

And notably loud hiphop blasting on a decent set of speakers, which somehow worked despite my first take on the appearance of the crowd --- a crow who look so very much *not* like the crowd who would be listening to hiphop while reading the newspaper, doing crossword puzzles, or reading novels.

Everything in the place completely lacked that Corpo Vibe or, alternatively, that Too Hip/Too Cool/Too Trying Oh So Hard To Be Edgy.

People looked ... pretty much like live action stardew valley characters. And I really mean that, literally. Age range easily spanned 20s through late 70s.

It was like stepping into an alt universe from that of the trendier coffee shops and that of the run of the mill Corpo Controlled coffee shops.

.

Anyhow- curious. I suspect I will go back there far more often. The vibe.

.

Also, fwiw, I started writing again this week after a long hiatus and what go me going was WRITING BY HAND.

BY HAND.

Digitally, but by hand.

[beej-machinations]

@freshmangojuice thank you for giving me the excuse to post these!

the truth is there's an alternate version for many pics... and that particular one has about 4 versions 🙈

RD textposts Bonuses: Deleted Scenes + Directors Commentary under the cut! (alt versions of memes you've all seen before)

i like the Ace one because i think the rumble of his voice really fits the text (esp. the scill/sion phonemes and the "y'all"). The message is also very Smoke Me a Kipper isn't it?

the others are nice action shots. As I said in the tags of post #10, Arnold's more-than-usual association with dimension/alternate reality/personality themes is fascinating. bordering on an aspect...

LEFT: could NOT decide between side-eyes. Cat is a sassy bitch and the 👀 is how he looks out for you as a friend - you just gotta 👄his language

RIGHT: everyone loves the kiss scene but i didn't want to overuse this part of Blue. i think Lister still misses him on the rollercoaster :3

this is a great picture of Arlene (a Rimmerous bastard yet sooo pretty), but i decided to stick with our universe's Rimmer and use Chefs Exam Kochanski Disguise.

its too convoluted to hope for in a quick meme, but my ambition was either pic being about (our) Rimmer genuinely experimenting with gender. the Arlene visage could be a (far) future form a la Hilly/Holly. or not!

the accusatory thumb... get fuckin rekt!!!

LEFT: not a lot of chances to screencap the full outfit, but here's Polymorph San Francisco Chic in all it's glory.

The alleyway brick of cardboard boxes gives the pose a certain standing-on-street-corner vibe. Note Dave's cruising glance back... anthyding could hadplen...

RIGHT: speaking of posturing check out the absolute Pose nano!Rimmer strikes right after returning. the Ego. (... the Id... 🤨)

LEFT: *Kill Bill Sirens*. good blocking, but rejected on grounds of poor image quality.

RIGHT: No need to duplicate yourself to find a bastard! there's one in the mirror every day!

party hat! bestowed by Holly, and therefore free.

I probably will do another of these if people are interested. Do you have a favourite? Does seeing a parallel dimension's version of the meme change your perspective? lmk what you think!

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

So I’m stealing this from @tayloralisonswift and you should definitely check out their version, but I’m going to listen to and rank all of Taylor’s songs album by album (and then maybe her non album songs at the end). You can also see my debut rankings and what I’ve changed here + my Fearless, Speak Now, RED, 1989, Reputation, Lover, Folklore, Evermore and Midnights rankings here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

So with that in mind, it’s The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology's turn. As per usual, I’ll put a content warning here and say that I mention mental struggles (including addiction and suicidality), age gap relationships, family issues, domestic violence and infidelity. So read at your own discretion. I also want to mention that one of the main reasons I decided to do this ranking is because I had a long post I wanted to make about this album that I will be condensing down for this. So yeah while it definitely won't be as long as that post, I do expect this to be the longest of the posts by far lmao.

Opening statement: So one of the reasons I wanted to make the long post about TTPD:TA is because it feels like the paradoxical album for me. Something that should have related heavily with me and been my thing entirely, and yet wasn't. I want to make a note now that a big reason it took so long was that I feel I couldn't express why I see TTPD:TA like I do without talking about my own experiences, which I've cut down on completely out of respect for privacy for people both currently and historically in my life. I note this because some of this post may be vague to try find a balance of those two things and I want you to know that you are not dumb if it feels that way to you. Also, the anon that one of my mutuals got saying regarding this album being about someone who did it shorter, someone who did it longer and someone else who did it first really hit for my relationship to the album, so I guess keep that in mind.

Fortnight: A few years ago, right after coming out of my own long term relationship (a note that he is not any of the 'Mr did it shorter/longer/first'), I had the opportunity to be the 'Matty' of a situation (obviously without the discriminatory and fame side of things) with someone I truly liked; more than I would like to admit (Mr 'did it shorter'). I chose not to, but the 'Taylor' of the situation did not make it easy (neither did the 'Joe', but you can kinda understand that more even if they were lashing out at the wrong person). As time went on, our kids became close friends (this is important, like just as not having kids is important to Taylor's version of TTPD:TA, having them is the key component for me. And yet, this is the closest thing to a direct song this person got on this album for me; and even then, while I do think the overall vibe really does encapsulate how it feels to be pursued by someone you like who is taken, Fortnight very much does feel like my "This could be us, but in order for it to be, I would have had to be a different person" song. Like I've often described TTPD:TA as an album that an alternative universe version of me would relate to heavily, and I think this song really is the best encapsulation of that. Like maybe if 'Mr did it longer' and I had never met or if we didn't have the kids or some other thing was different, I would have jumped in; but I didn't. And perhaps only having one song relate directly to this person is fitting given the nature of Taylor/Matty and the song being based on a (relatively) short amount of time, but still.

Outside of myself, I love the music video visually but wish it wasn't the first one. I feel by having it be the first thing most fans see about the album, it makes the asylum imagery (which I will talk about my feelings on later in this post) feel kinda hollow. I understand why she would not have wanted to do what I am about to say given the likeness to previous singles, but in my mind, having Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me be the first music video for the era followed by I Can Do It With A Broken Heart (same video we got), the title track, I Hate It Here, Fortnight (same video as we got) and finally Down Bad really would have given it a chance to tell a fuller story. I also wish it wasn't the track Post Malone featured on because I feel he's kinda wasted on it and I hope they collaborate again (preferably on a more upbeat song) and he's more present on it. I do love how the song directly ties into Hits Different in a way that is subtle enough that you don't have to know that to enjoy the song but it is a extra moment for those who do.

Finally, this song is literally Good Luck Babe's sequel from the other person's pov to me.

All up, it's not a favourite, but I completely understand why it's the opener. 6/10.

The Tortured Poets Department: I promise I don't have as much to say about all of these tracks as I did Fortnight, and this is one of the songs I have less to say about. While the general 'thinking we're sadder than we are' vibe reminds me of my Mr 'did it longer', the anxiety, insecurity and overseriousness that leads to destruction of myself and my relationships feels very resonant of myself in my early 20s as I battled with realising all that propping up I received as a kid really didn't mean much materially. I've also spoken with friends historically about how my experiences with Mr 'did it longer' really feel like they translated in me in a way that while I was seeking to recover, looking back, I think part of me had given up and thought that there would always be some level of sadness, anxiety or so on and so in that way both of the ways I related to the song intertwined.

Ultimately, I like the song and I'm a little surprised at how hated it seems to be on this site specifically given how many people call themselves former gifted children and are open with their depression. Like to me, this song is about someone who was propped up or for whatever other reason thought that they were going to be much more “successful” (read that in the capitalist definition type way) but it hasn't happened for them yet and so now they're in their head. 7/10.

My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys: We have reached what I called the first 'teenage petulance' song of the album. One of the most.... interesting I guess things that I have heard people who defend this album say in its defence is that those who don't like it just aren't old or mature enough for it. And to me that's very conflictory with my own opinion because to be honest, I think 15 – 17 year old me would have resonated with this album far more with it than 28 (now 29) year old me did upon hearing it. And this song is one of the first examples of why. To me it comes off as every 'I can fix him' teenage girl's wet dream before she inevitably gets traumatised by the situation. Needless to say at this point, but if you are in any relationship, romantic or not, like this, leave and never look back. Like the only time in my life I could even think of relating this song to was when I was in an abusive friendship that I felt at the time was penance for a past situation with a different friend. 4/10.

Down Bad: This is one of those songs that I like the fan interaction around more than I like the song itself. Like I know this is an unpopular opinion, but for as much as people in my life assumed that I would relate this song to either Mr 'did it shorter' or Mr 'did it longer', this song has never clicked for me and I don't really understand the hype around it. In saying that, given it was such a fan favourite, and as I said, I think could be a really good closing single for this era, I do hope it gets a music video at some point.

I will also say that the first time I heard this song, I thought she said 'did you really beaT me up in a cloud of sparkling dust?' and full of dissociated thinking that she had just admitted that the other person got high and committed domestic violence against her. It took me being like “why the fuck is no one else talking about this? This feels like the biggest bombshell she's ever said???” and looking it up to be reminded that I have bad hearing. It also did not help that the first thing I heard when coming back through was the final 'I'm having his baby' in But Daddy I Love Him.

As for the fan interactions, I've seen a lot of people relate this song to past queer and interracial relationships they've had and while this song is still low ranked for me, I have a new appreciation for it after hearing those views. 5/10.

So Long London: My favourite song from the project. It genuinely makes me very sad that this song was slammed as the 'Taylor left Joe due to his mental illness' song because it's moreso a 'your mental illness does not give you the right to be a dick to others and expect them to stay at your level forever' meets 'you can't save someone if you're drowning too' song and the codependence that comes with those two things clashing (when Taylor talks about mutual self harm in the prologue, I think of this song, not the Matty ones because I question if it was mutual on Matty's end). Like I know there's nuances of her wealth and other factors in this comparison, but from my first listen, I immediately thought about my anti recovery ptsd/bipolar (before you @ me saying this sounds mean, I say this as someone who has only recently been deemed as 'recovered' from these two illnesses too. It is said with all the love in the world) ridden mother who I am a carer for but who also sees my recovery as betrayal to this day. And having that pressure of feeling like you're the difference of if this person lives or dies (Because tbh, to me, when Taylor said she's not sure if he wants to be there, I didn't take it as the relationship, I took it as life itself. And that mixed with the suicide baiting line from the title track really encapsulates this song for me) is a lot for anyone. I will quickly note here before anyone starts worrying that things with my mum are better now, like not fully recovered, but I definitely think more of 2015 - 2018 in relation to this song. But anyway, 'Taylor left out of a lack of love' is such a cold take because the truth is she stayed so long because of love and I can say with 99.9...% certainty that leaving was not a decision Taylor would have taken lightly, and I will die on that hill for the rest of my days. 10/10.

But Daddy I Love Him: My least favourite track from the album. And no, before you make assumptions, it's got nothing to do with Matty, the vipers lyrics (though I do think that's weird to add given her history with being called a snake, especially aimed at the people who defended her against that), that it took the place of genuinely loving fan songs on tour (I genuinely think she put it on the setlist because it was/she thought it would be a fan favourite) or even that it's the first mention of fans on the album. Because if I'm honest, I don't even see this as the 'fuck my fans' song that it's made out to be. Like if anything, this song is a self admitted hissyfit and again something I would have to go back into my teen years to relate to lmao. The 'fuck my fans' song does exist on this album though, but it's further down the track so we will talk about it then. I feel like now is probably also a good time to mention that I am a 'this song started about Matty but was reworked to have aspects of Travis in it; especially the latter end of the song' truther. The reason I don't like this song honestly just comes down to it feeling like a wordier and less catchy version of Love Story to me. And I've been told that it feels different to that if you grew up in a small Christian conservative town. But at the end of the day, as much as I joke about my city feeling like it's one step away from being a small town given everyone knows everyone and there are a bunch of towns/nature around us, I grew up in a left leaning, equally as agnostic/atheist as religious city. If I move out of here, I only have one other place in mind and it is a bigger city that is also left leaning and less religious than these places people have spoken about. The whole conservative small town thing is likely never going to be my reality to relate it to. So yeah, ultimately it literally is just the case that any time But Daddy I Love Him comes on, I remember we only have so many hours of the day and I could be listening to Love Story if I want that vibe, so do so lmao. 3/10.

Fresh Out The Slammer: This is another song that I like fan (or in this case, my loved one's) interpretation of more than the song itself. It's also a song that I am glad I heard after So Long London, because quite frankly, the way that a lot of you see So Long London as the 'Taylor is a bitch for leaving someone with depression' song, that is how I probably would have seen this song had I not had the context of So Long London (and I guess You're Losing Me if we're talking more broadly within Taylor's discography).

I feel the need to say here that I resent the fiction this fandom has made that Joe forced Taylor to stay inside and avoid the media. Those of you saying that either are new or don't remember that at the time they met, it was Taylor who did not want to be around the media. Joe may have agreed or may have simply just gone along with it and ended up liking that path, we don't know. But I think it's a good reminder that it was actually Taylor who ultimately changed her mind on how much exposure she wanted. And that's not to bag Taylor, like she has every right to that. But it is a major change and for a fandom who seems to understand that the 'asylum [Taylor] was raised in' is the media and how much damage that did to her and how she struggled with it, it is kinda fucked up that the same grace is not given to him. That also goes with him talking about what happened between them; especially because quite frankly, he has been a hell of a lot nicer about it than most would.

Anyway, time for the positive with this song. As I mentioned above, a loved one of mine recently came to me with how they relate to this song and it's changed it completely for me. In short, this person has recently gone through rehab and relates the song to addiction with all of the 'he' mentions being the addiction/himself before recovery, the 'I' mentions of course being them now and the 'you' mentions being their loved ones. It was incredibly heartwarming to hear. It's not a favourite, but has grown from being a near least favourite due to that. 6/10.

Florida: This is one of those songs that is objectively better than my ranking in my honest opinion. Like I think it's the best summary of everything this album is trying to say, it's lyrics and production are great and just overall a good song. But something about it just did not click with me on the same level as other songs I love on this project. Like it's still strongly in the top half of my ranking, but it's not a song I'd say I stan or anything. Also, if I'm honest, I kind of wish it was a Florence And The Machine song because I like her voice on it better than Taylor's. 7.5/10.

Guilty As Sin: Maybe because I just don't relate to it at all (not that sexual of a person, especially in that way, sorry), but for me, this is one of those songs that I think of when people say you need to listen to all of Taylor's discography in order to fully appreciate if you listen to music through the lens of what it means to the artist. I say this because my favourite aspect of this song is 'am I allowed to cry' and how it relates to The Great War; specifically 'I vowed not to cry anymore if we survive the great war'. Guilty As Sin serves as a unclear space of time on whether the current relationship is over because it both is and isn't. Like realistically if you're masturbating to someone else in your monogamous long term relationship, it's over. But at the same time, technically you are still together and it can be saved. So have they survived? Can they? It's unclear in that moment and from an artistic point of view I love that connection because it's so interesting to me.

I'm nosy, so I do have to wonder if she ever told Joe though, given he mentioned that he had previously asked if Matty was just a friend and part of his (understandable) pain was that Taylor had said yes just to leave him for Matty. So had this come up? Or was it just vibes? It's not our business and we will never know, but yeah, like I do wonder if she fessed up as a final attempt to fix the relationship.

Either way, the song ranks relatively low for me. 6/10.

Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me: To start off, I just want to say that I was told about the 'asylum' line at the time of the leak, and as a result (given I am a person who has previously spent time in a mental hospital), decided to listen to the leak of the standard album + The Black Dog (before you @ me had already planned to buy the album and do not stream music of albums I buy, so me listening to the album early was not taking money away from Taylor). And ultimately I'm glad I did. Because from the minute I heard the asylum line, I knew this fandom and the broader audience would not be normal about it and was able to make the choice not to be online/scrolling for this release. I do want to make a note here that Taylornation being so horrific about this line over the months has genuinely been upsetting for me and many others, especially because I think while we correctly identified that the fandom and general public would not be normal about the line, we weren't expecting them to act the same. As such I hope that this is something Taylor/her team talks about with them in the future to at very least prevent it from happening again. And though I don't have faith in it, I hope that one day the fandom will listen to those of us saying that Taylor saying something about herself and her mental state is not an open door for inappropriate jokes.

As for the song itself, this song is the best/most relatable representation of mania I've heard in a song before. While I do think this song is somewhat of a whack at her fans, I feel like it's broader than this in that it's about everyone (but not Olivia Rodrigo given some of you seem very obsessed with a feud that was fan made) and predominately about the media. But it all comes from mania. Like I know there were debates about whether the prologue of this album was meant to be a defence drawn up like an insanity plea (something people see as 'getting off easy' despite the 1% of people who successfully do it often ending up in worse positions than prison) or legitimate retelling, and while I think there's room for nuance in the conversation, this song has convinced me that it was genuine mania. Like I do think Taylor felt all of that in the moment due to the mania, but I do not think she goes around every day thinking everything is about her or that she (or at least she alone) paved the path for people to attack her or whatever else in the song. Nor do I think this song would have existed if she was healthier at the time. And before you @ me over this, a reminder that I say this as someone with a history of bipolar and it is not an attack on Taylor. It is hard to explain to people who have not faced emotional highs of mania or even emotional lows of depression, but for better or worse, our emotions and circumstances do dictate our actions a lot of the times, and this is an example of that for me.

On another note, this song has somewhat been ruined for me because I saw a tiktok based on Gideon from Gravity Falls with it as the background music and now I laugh whenever the song comes on.

Overall though, it is a top 3 song from this project for me. 9/10.

I Can Fix Him No Really I Can: Another 'teenage petulance' song. Like I really don't have much to say about this song at all past I wouldn't be surprised if it was used for a bunch of like fanfics and videos for other fandoms and that 16 year old me would have loved this song and related it to the same abusive friend I mentioned in MBOBHFT. I will give her that the way she says 'Good boy, that's right' is very attractive lmao. But yeah overall definitely low ranked. 4/10.

Loml: So remember when I said I relate heavily to the whole 'Mr did it longer/shorter/first' mentality of this album? Well it's time to officially introduce 'Mr did it first'. I call him dad and we haven't spoken in years. Surprise! This is now a daddy issues album. I won't go into a whole run down of what happened, but the tldr that you need to know is that I went from my father's favourite child, to a weird on/off again period where he only called when it benefited him (despite calling my siblings including the one he was estranged with at first consistently) to a fallout due to him deliberately causing a wedge between my mother and I reuniting with said estranged sibling (yes, this ties back into how my mother feels re: what I said about So Long London) and all of my extended family (he admitted it was to get back at us, this is not an assumption). Because of this, I am very attached about this being just as much about Matty as Joe and feel off when people try to deny that. Because like Matty is the loss of Taylor's life not because he was the love of her life, but because of what his actions cost her (her life with Joe, her respect from a lot of fans, her self respect, aspects of her mental health etc etc etc). Anyway I love this song. It's so beautiful and haunting and definitely something I will listen to long term. 8.5/10.

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart: Now you may think that me having a long term relationship then... whatever came after with Mr 'did it shorter' fall apart within months would make this a song about that for me. But alas, you'd be wrong. The fact that within 24 hours of this album coming out, I got an anon that said “damn, 2018 you would have loved [this song]” is really all you need to know about it. I never answered that anon because I had no response to it, but anon if you are reading this, you're right. This is very much my “getting through law school after losing my dad/family while also being a step parent and carer" song. Like I very much love and relate everything in this song from the pushing through/overworking to deal with your problems to the denial that everyone ever is seeing how fucked up you feel. In saying all of that, I'm glad we have this song now, when I have more compassion and empathy for that version of myself.

Outside of myself, I just genuinely love this song. I understand why people are uncomfortable about the “more” line, but I'll be real, if Taylor was that worried, I really don't think she would have added it to the setlist (especially a setlist where she could have easily shortened it to not include that line), let alone made it the tour music video. On the note of the music video though, the golden outfit from it is the best version of that outfit lmao. Overall just a very fun, sad and relatable song. 9/10.

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: I recently heard of a child who said this reminds them of their dad, and I want to hug that child and tell them it's okay and that they will get their happy ending even if he's not part of it because I feel the same but got my happy ending. I don't have much else to say about the song past it being one of my favourites from the album and that unfortunately as someone with historic substance abuse issues, the ghosting drug supplier line is incredibly funny to me. 9.5/10.

The Alchemy: I'm sorry, this song is just very boring to me. 4/10.

Clara Bow: Again, this song is super boring to me and by far my least favourite out of her songs about fame which is super unfortunate because I feel like the cycle of public abuse/propping up celebrities just to tear them down when the new thing comes along is a very interesting topic, but yeah this just doesn't hit for me. 4/10.

The Black Dog: So I loved this song from the start, but I listened to it on my estranged (younger) sister's birthday and realised that yeah, this reminds me of my dad and her. Definitely one of my most listened to tracks from the album. 9/10.

Imgonnagetyouback: Okay so listen, I hate comparing similar themed songs from different artists because like no one owns a theme right. But at the same time, I don't think this song coming out so close to Olivia's (which I love a lot more) did it any favours. And that's a shame because as much as this is a 'teenage petulance' song, I think much like ICDIWABH, it's fun/deliberate about it, but yeah just another case of 'I can just listen to this other song I like more for the same vibe' like how I feel with songs like Anti Hero and BDILH ngl. 5/10.

The Albatross: This is actually a song that's grown on me a lot since the release. Like I used to find it boring, but after a conversation with 'Mr did it shorter''s daughter where she told me she relates the song to me and the ways I helped her through the heartbreak and mess of what happened between me and her father (and the fallout it had for her family), I really saw this song and the album in a new light in terms of like why I feel like having kids involved is so impactful for me in regards to my relationship with this album. 8/10.

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: 'You needed me but you needed drugs more' coming out while I was in the midst of almost losing someone to addiction did numbers on me. Thankfully, as mentioned above, that person got help, and funnily enough, I don't relate the rest of the song to them. Instead it was about a friend breakup, which you know, sounds normal and unrelated to how I relate to the rest of this album until you take into consideration that my mum used to hate this friend because she saw him as just like my father... Anyway, I truly do love this song and had my Eras show been post TTPD:TA's release, it'd be near the top of my surprise song wants. 8.5/10.

How Did It End: I feel awful for saying this song is boring to me because I think it is filled with emotion and 'look who we ran into at the shops, walking in circles like she was lost' would have taken 2018 me by the throat out of relatability, but the song just never clicked for me. Also, this is the 'fuck my fans' song in my honest opinion. Like it may not be as stark as BDILH or WAOLOM but it is a whacking and one that does not feel as aimed at the world at whole/people who don't care about her in the way fans do. Either way, it's a beautiful, haunting, objectively good song; just not for me. 6.5/10.

So High School: I like that this song sounds like the time period from when Taylor was in high school and I think younger me would have liked it as a whole more, but I'm just not drawn to it. 5/10.

I Hate It Here: This is a song that really dropped off for me as I continued to recover at the rapid rates I have this year ngl. Like I have a lot of sympathy/empathy for anyone in that mind frame, but it's just not where I am anymore and the song really lost its shine for me when it lost its relatability. 4/10.

Thank You Aimee: Love and relate to the the mentality of turning something shitty into something great and being proud of the way you handled the shittiness, even to the point of being able to recognise that it was for the best that shitty thing happened. It's also cute that it's the most 'debut' sounding song and brought back 'secret' messages. However, the song in general is just not for me. 5/10.

I Look In People's Windows: I'm sorry, I know it's a fan favourite but simply find this song boring. 4/10.

The Prophecy: Oh 2018 me would have cried her little heart out to this after losing our family (not to mention 'Mr did it longer' and the Chloe et al friend). The final 'please' is my favourite production choice of this album. On that note, Taylor singing this song mashed with This Love, my ultimate self love song on Eras Tour, was such a moment for me especially! Like yes, this self love changed The Prophecy and led me to get to my happiest (so far). Overall a great song. 8.5/10.

Cassandra: Closure's sister song (to me). Not a favourite, but highly relatable to how I feel about my family, something I think younger me would have liked more and a good song overall. 6.5/10.

Peter: Top 5 song of this album for real. I love it and heavily relate it to the Chloe et al friend and have done so from the first listen. 9/10.

The Bolter: This is not a favourite of mine, but having recently made a playlist I really love revolved around it definitely brought it up a bit from finding it uninteresting to decent. 6/10.

Robin: The centrepiece of why I do not relate to this album (in my opinion) and what happened with 'Mr did it shorter' for me. I find it incredibly funny but also a testament to Taylor's writing that this song is so impactful for me and how I relate to this album despite the reason for that being so different than what she actually wrote it about. Because ultimately 'Mr did it shorter' and I did not go down that road and we held off on expressing how we felt because of the kids. We stayed civil with each other despite all of the hurt on both ends because of the kids. And, when him and his partner decided that they wanted to give it another go, I cut him off and allowed my stepfather's daughter to deal with all interactions with him for the kids. Like it was all in sweetness. And maybe it was too late by then, the damage of his actions and the rumours had done their dash, but I would have done it the same way over and over again and am glad that he eventually got to the same page. It has been so incredible to not only been able to see my stepdaughter grow and trust me fully through this process, but to be able to see his kids through it too. Like idk, I'm just rambling at this point, but I feel so much gratitude and pride for how I and the kids dealt with this all when I hear this song and it will always hold a special place in my heart because of that. 9/10.

The Manuscript: And one final song for 'Mr did it longer'. I'm never going to say that I am thankful for the damage he did to me, but much like Thank You Aimee, this song really sets it in stone for me that that experience 16 - 22 year old me had with him really determined the outcome and personality of my adult life (both in good and bad ways), especially the impact I want to have on the next generation. Like going back to what I said in Fortnight, I think things would have been very different and I would have been a lot more naive re: 'Mr did it shorter' had I not had that experience (and obviously the experience with 'Mr did it longer' and the Peter/Chloe et al friend was impacted by my dad, just in a lot less linear way at the time) and whether it's 'Mr did it shorter's' kids, my stepdaughter, the 'lovers who stayed my age' or any other children in my life currently, historically or in the future, I will always value the growth I had through that experience that has led me to being able to help others. All up, this is just the perfect closer for the album (being a RED girlie just made it all the sweeter lmao) and a great song. 9/10.

Final score: 202.5/310 - 66.3%