#kirk is stupid caked up at all times

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

season 2 what it do

[reginaldqueribundus]

Worf also died like 2 other times on TNG, one time Q killed him with a bunch of US civil war soldiers and Riker brought him back with Q powers, and I think he technically also died during the surgery from that whole stupid barrel thing but came back because Klingons can reroll death saves or something

there's also Elnor, who got shot dead in the Evil Federation timeline but then Q brought him back too

Neelix, if I recall correctly, got fried in a shuttle accident or something like that. Seven revived him with nanoprobes, accidentally disproving his religion and causing him to have a whole existential crisis about it.

I hadn't even thought of Kirk on the Enterprise-B as a death, but I guess the Nexus is kind of the afterlife! Luckily it has a fire exit but then he got a bridge dropped on him :( (in the Shatnerverse novels I think the Romulans bring him back to life with modified Borg nanoprobes or something)

speaking of novels, the old novelverse did Janeway real dirty. she got eaten by a fucked up Borg cube, turned into a Borg Queen and then exploded and thus missed the Great Big Borg Invasion which was then blamed on her because her future self messed with time. supposedly her death was a “fixed point” in the multiverse (excuse me, the Doctor would like a word and I don't mean the EMH) but Q's kid brought her back anyway in one of the Voyager novels.

Data takes the cake though, they killed that poor bastard like 3 times. according to the Jean-Luc Picard Show, after the whole Scimitar thing Bruce Maddox apparently used “nanoscopic fragments of Data's neurons” or whatever to reconstruct his mind inside a simulation. when Picard found him Data was like hey can u plz euthanize me and Picard said ok but then they found this other android that Noonien Soong's human son who's never been mentioned or alluded to before had put Data's mind inside along with all of B4 and Lore and Lal's memories, and then Data and Lore were fighting for control and Lore one by basically eating Data but by absorbing Data's entire life he became Data?? so now he's out there running around as Data and Lore I guess. but mostly Data.

Gray is another complex example, the Tal symbiote carried his memories into Adira but then he kept hanging around as a psychic memory ghost, which the holo-simulation on the Khieth somehow turned into an actual hologram and then they sucked him out of Adira with a syringe and put him in a robot body and he became a therapist which seems…very fitting

Leslie is a funny case cuz they straight up forgot he died and he just showed up in later episodes (though supposedly there was a deleted scene in “Obsession” where a magic potion brought him back to life)

Scotty & McCoy were brought back by the same methods that killed them — Kirk yelled at Nomad until it hit Undo on killing Scotty and the Shore Leave planet has mechanisms to “fix” guests it accidentally murders. which seems like more work than just making the illusions nonlethal, but whatever. Would be nice if Six Flags could just sew your head back on after a rollercoaster decapitates you I guess.

Spock only worked because of his proximity to one-of-a-kind experimental tech and the foresight to leave a backup copy of his soul inside McCoy plus a mystical ritual from the Vulcan equivalent of the Epic of Gilgamesh but Kelvin Kirk just needed a shot of Magical Khan Blood. really should keep a vial of that stuff in case of an emergency, Leonard!!

Picard I think technically also died that time his artificial heart exploded but presumably Q brought him back for totally hetero reasons and then yeah he died of Bad Brain Syndrome but they put him in an android body that conveniently looks and acts exactly like a 90-year-old man. this was an important plot point eventually because (spoilers for Picard S3) it turned out his BBS was actually Borg mutations and the Borg / rogue changelings used it in their evil plans

Shaxs is really funny bcuz we have no idea how he came back just that it involves something called “the Black Mountain”

Culber is also hilarious to me, CBS realized they'd made a mistake murdering one of their first two gay characters Paul manifested him by missing him really hard and then Tilly's imaginary friend from the mushroom dimension rebuilt his body out of mushrooms and with a shredded six-pack. death only made him hotter! and then he got in a fight with the guy who killed him

however I would argue O'Brien counts since a) he literally went into the future and died from the radiation poisoning that was making him time travel to begin with and his future self had to go back and take his place but also b) it's O'Brien

"You never forget your first death"

Okay so off the top of my head...

Scotty (killed by Nomad)

McCoy (killed by Shore Leave planet)

Leslie (killed by cloud monster)

Spock (died in engineering)

Kirk (Prime, died on the Enterprise-B)

Kirk (Kelvinverse, died in engineering)

Worf (falls off a balcony)

Data (destroyed on the Scimitar)

Dax (hosts have died multiple times)

Neelix (can't remember tbh)

Stamets (remembers every death on Discovery time loop)

Culber (neck snapped)

Gray (ship hit by asteroid)

Picard (artificial heart failure)

Picard (Irumodic Syndrome)

Shaxs (died saving the Cerritos)

Boimler (blown up)

And they all came back.

Also, Harry Kim, Miles O'Brien and Phillipa Georgiou were killed and replaced with duplicates from other times and realities but that doesn't really count. Plus duplicates of the entire Voyager crew died and there have been time loop episodes where the Enterprise-D and Discovery were destroyed over and over. But they don't remember those except Stamets on Discovery.

And that's just in TV and movies! Did I miss any?

[lucycola]

Hey could you do a Spock X reader where she knows nothing about Vulcans and like keeps accidentally doing taboo things e.g touching hands or touching his ears

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this! I accidentally made it gender neutral, because I forgot what pronouns, you used. I’m sorry! I hope you like it.

WARNINGS: Fluff, affection, ignorance of affection in Vulcan culture idk. Maybe Spock is slightly OOC but who cares. I took a little liberty of giving the reader a pinch of background.

To say you were oblivious was an understatement. You weren’t a complete idiot, or anything, just innocently scatterbrained. Perhaps that was the explanation why you didn’t flinch when every you were chastised for a mistake or given a strict order by your commanding officer. As a blue shirt, you fell under the command of the Enterprise’s first officer, and his reputation as a stony, unfeeling, authoritarian preceded him. You were never bothered by this. He was most terrifying, others noted, when Captain Kirk left him in charge when unable to take the chair. You were warned about him-to never cross him and always do exactly as he said. Spock was a hard-ass. He was handsome and perhaps at first you wondered, but it had been made clear to by others he wasn’t interested in anyone.

You had met more terrifying people. You had nine brothers and a strict, often unfair and bully of a father. Commander Spock was a piece of cake. It was in your nature to be gentle, welcoming, and comforting despite the constitution of your upbringing. It was your personality. You didn’t like to let people bring you down.

You were elated alone to be living your dream, anyway. You weren’t going to let the attitude of anyone around you affect your nature or happiness.

You obviously didn’t know anything about Vulcans either.

The first touch was accidental. It always is.

You never took the Vulcan to be clumsy, but on one occasion while discussing your current assignment in passing he dropped his holotape. You both reached  for it, and in a cliché manner brushed hands. While your boss pulled away, you did not and picked up the tape.

“Here ya go!” You cheerily patted the tape in his hand for good measure, “I’ll have that report in the morning like you’ve requested, sir.”

Bypassers gawked as you cheerily skipped away. Your commanding officer only quirked a brow and went on his way.

The next time was less on purpose and more out of your kindness as your commander internally lamented about his captain’s safety during an emergency situation. He had donned the chair and even while appearing composed and direct you had an eye for spotting worry in well kept men. In an brief moment you pressed your hand to his wrist and said softly, “He will be okay. You’ll make sure of it.”

He tensed under your touch and you removed your hand a smiled.

“Report to your station, Ensign,” he said in his usual tone, no hint of distaste or approval in his voice.

“Yes sir.”

The third time was even worse. Somehow you had been suckered to prompting Spock by Doctor McCoy into reporting to an impromptu physical. Confidentiality be damned, the Vulcan’s stress levels were unusually high and it was affecting his demeanor. You accidentally overheard the nurse and the doctor whispering something perhaps about pon farr happening again, but no it hadn’t been seven years yet. Whatever that was.

“I don’t think he’ll listen to me, but if you say it’s important, I’ll try.”

“You’re his favorite, so you’re my best bet.”

“Mister Spock doesn’t have favorites,” you laughed, “But I’ll do it anyway. Someone has to draw the shortest straw. I never mind it being me.”

“Thankyou, Ensign. And good luck.”

You skipped along to the your commander’s quarters. You had never been inside and only rarely had delivered your reports to him in person when requested. He couldn’t always come to you and that was understandable.

At the chime the door slid open and though it was subtle, your boss clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hello, Mister Spock,” you greeted, “Doctor McCoy-”

“I am aware of the doctor’s request. As it is not mandatory  I do not find it necessary to attend.”

It wasn’t like him to interrupt you. He was tense and though he stood perfectly erect like a statue there was a little shake in his right hand. Without thinking, you grasped it to still the quiver.

“Are you alright?”

Many would expect his to snatch it away, but he didn’t and stood there. If he was caught off guard, it wasn’t apparent. His expression was unmoving and his eye contact never wavered.

“I am fine, Ensign. Report back to your duties.”

“Doctor McCoy said it was important.”

“I am not here to entertain the doctor’s every illogical human whim.” He pulled his hand away, “There is no empirical evidence to suggest I am ill.”

“You’re shivering.” You put your hands on your hip and gave him the most mothering look you could muster.

“Multiple factors such as the natural low temperature of deep space can illicit such a reaction,” he retorted.

“It’s broiling in your cabin, Mister Spock. Only people with fevers do things like that.”

“Humans, Ensign. Humans,” he corrected, “I deduce you are not aware of Vulcan biology or customs.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” you requested softly, “How am I supposed to work efficiently under an ill commanding officer?”

The way you spoke nearly convinced him to do your bidding, but still he remained stubborn.

“I do not comprehend how that would deter your work efficiency.”

You grabbed his hand again, “I am going to worry myself to death if you really are ill and you’re just trying to act like you’re alright. That will keep me from working like I’m supposed to. Efficient crew needs an efficient captain.” You winked at him.

“But Captain Kirk-”

“It’s a metaphor, Mister Spock. Now please come so the doctor can stop paging me and I can work on my report concerning the Althenian plant’s healing properties and various uses from its sap.”

“I yield,” he said after a small beat and without releasing your hand, followed you to the medbay. More people inwardly gawked watching to drag him down the hall. His face was tense, albeit slightly amused.

After reaching your destination you waved him and the doctor off sweetly and made your way back to the lab. You heart wrapped around the thought of him being ill and you hid that worry ill. A little heat bloomed in your chest at his previous touch. You brushed it away. No, you told yourself.

The doctor was only a little surprised. His suspicions were confirmed.

“I had my doubts at first, Spock, but now I see it’s true.”

“Despite Vulcan’s telepathic abilities, I cannot automatically read your mind. Elaborate, Doctor.”

The doctor chucked, “That ensign is your favorite.”

“I do not understand.”

“Who else could have convinced you to come here to let me scan you? Probably not even Jim-”

“I am inclined to follow the captain’s every order.”

“You don’t let anyone touch you like that. Especially not for a long time. If I’m not mistaken you two were practically kiss-”

“That will be enough elaboration, doctor. Please proceed with your medical assessment, as I have much work to attend to.”

The doctor chuckled again. “It’s too bad I can’t tell with that one. They act like that towards everyone.”

“Everyone,” Spock repeated flatly although it was intended to be a question.

“Sweetest soul I’ve ever met. Lights up a room as soon as they enter it.”

“Indeed,” Spock nodded, familiar with the colloquialism.

The doctor’s eyebrows raised and he grinned, “I knew it.”

You of course were oblivious to all of this as you continued through your work, happy as a clam.

After some deliberation one of your coworkers decided to explain the delicacies of Vulcan culture after viewing a friendly hand grasp as a greeting between you and your commanding officer. You were elated to see his shivering had stopped and once again he tensed under the touch, but nodded his head at your greeting. You had blushed while doing so. It was sweet, but your coworker had to break it to you as they had before when warning you last time about him not being interested in anyone.

“Vulcans don’t like to be touched, you know,” they said to you, taking you aside.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re very sensitive to skin to skin contact. They guard themselves mostly, but hand touching is extremely taboo the way kissing in public or other sexual acts are.”

“You mean...” you blushed, “I’ve been--! I hope he’s not offended.”

“Normally he’s not afraid to explain things or clear up-“ you coworker coughed,”-unwanted affection. I’ve seen plenty girls get a talking down to.”

“What are you saying?”

“Perhaps he’s forcing himself to be polite.”

“Oh, I’ve got to apologize right away!”

You felt so stupid! How could you be so offensive to him or his culture? You should have read up on his customs before truly interacting with him. It would seem like a smart thing to do-but you were so lost to the world it was embarrassing.

You paused in front of his door for the first time in your life, afraid to speak to him.

The door open quickly and you stepped back, surprised. He had looked like he had been going to leave and you sheepishly smiled, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, sir. I need to speak to you.”

“Come inside.”

You blushed at the request, wringing your hands as you entered.

You turned to him and blurted, “I had no idea what I was doing, sir, I swear. Had I known that touching you was wrong I would stop. I’m so used to being touchy-feely on Earth I forgot that not everyone-”

“Ensign,” he said firmly.

“Yes?” you squeaked.

“Had those interactions provoked me I would have made it known. I should be the one offering an apology. I should have explained what such interactions mean on Vulcan before anyone else claimed the opportunity. I assume someone took the liberty of doing so.”

“Yessir. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.”

“Why not?’

“Because your actions did not provoke me, but precisely did the opposite.”

“What-what do you mean?” Your face was fully red and you obscured it with your hands. He let out a sound that was the closest Vulcan thing as a sigh and stepped closed to you.

He grasped your hands and lowered them from your face. His eyes were soft and the most vulnerable as you had every seen them.

He pressed his right hand that was shivering terribly to the side of your face. It stilled instantly.

“I am aware of your affection for me and I return the sentiment.”

You couldn’t find your voice and after a long moment of studying your features he leaned down to give you a kiss, warm and firm.

You gasped into his lips and pressed back.

He released you and you looked at him starry eyed.

“So it was true, what the doctor said, you said in a hushed tone.

Spock’s arms were around you gently, “Elaborate.”

“I am your favorite.”

“Affirmative.”

FIN

[kellykadesperate]

a lil teaser for the football fic with no name yet!

It’s pissing down. The umbrella he’s holding earns its forty quid by staying up right as the wind whacks against his back and pushes him further towards the pitch.

Robert looks up and hears a few Brighton fans laughing and joking, cheering about seagulls or something as they make their way out. Robert knows no Hotten fans are around, they’d be fools if they wanted to stay to hear the other team banging on about absolutely thrashing them on their own ground.

The result just so happens to be the icing on the already shit cake he’s got to eat for the next few months.

And he can’t quite believe it.

Robert moves his foot onto the pitch and watches as his shoe seeps into the sodden grass, sinks down into the mud further and further. That does it, it’s the cherry on top as he yanks out his phone and scowls down at Lawrence’s number, it takes all of two seconds for him to answer the call.

“Oh Robert, you’ve arrived then?”

“What sort of shit is this you’re playing at?”

And maybe, maybe it’s no way to speak to him but he does because right now he couldn’t give an absolute shit.

“What does that mean?”

“Hotten?” Robert spins around and stares up at the empty stands. “Hotten?” He shudders. “When you said a team’s interested in signing you for the season, that it’d be a good opportunity to get me fit again, I thought you meant West Ham or Wolves, not –”

“Hotten are a good team.”

Robert knows what that means, it’s means they’ve got heart and passion and Match Of The Day say they play brave football sometimes. It doesn’t mean they’re successful.

“Aren’t they bottom of the table?”

Lawrence says absolutely nothing for a second and then he clears his throat. “Not for much longer.”

Robert doesn’t know what to do, or what to say, because it’s all sounding like he’s their miracle worker and that definitely does something for his self-esteem, something that he needs after being on the sidelines for over a year.

For a second, the smallest second, he feels like a little boy wanting someone to say he’s special. He remembers being a lanky sixteen-year-old signing the contracts and having Lawrence tell him that he has a lot of potential to make it into the first team. He absolutely hates himself for it.

“What so … you think I can actually make a difference?”

Go on. Robert wants to say. Compliment me right now.

Lawrence is predictable, he says he should make a difference and Robert’s got all that weight pressed on his shoulders again.

“I didn’t agree to this.” Robert bites, slips back into himself. “I agreed to stretch my legs, have an opportunity outside of Leeds but this … it’s …”

It’s degrading. It’s taking a league champion and plunging him into a team that are lucky to still be amongst all the others. It’s telling everyone Robert’s career is over, that he’s not bounced back from his injury and he’ll never be who he was before it happened.

And it’s not like Robert doesn’t know that himself. It’s what keeps him up at night.

“Happening whether you like it or not.” Lawrence says. “I don’t think you know how lucky you are.”

“Lucky?” Robert knows he should be grateful about a lot of things going on in his life but how can he be in his career. “I was the best of the best and then I get kicked in the knee so hard I needed surgery. And now, now I’m not needed anymore, and now I’m standing on a pitch that looks like it’s quick sand and …”

Robert looks up and sees someone staring at him.

“If you would like to come with me.”

Robert wouldn’t actually. He hangs up by the phone and then stares down at the time. It’s nearly nine, the team’s probably gone by now and for some reason that makes his shoulders relax a little.

Robert walks with the woman in silence, she prattles on about the stadium, its history and the trophy cabinet. He passes it and doesn’t look back; it might as well be empty.                                              

“We’re really happy that you’ve decided to come and see us.” He finds out that the woman, Vanessa, is part of the medical team and she makes him feel a little important until he’s walking towards an office and being told to wait outside for a second.

Robert rolls his eyes, leans back against the wall and then spots Clive, his manager walking towards him. He shoots off the wall and shakes his head.

“Is this where you say there’s been a mistake or something?” Robert says. “As in you’ve told Lawrence where to go?”

Clive shakes his umbrella against the floor and runs a hand through his hair. “No.” He says. “Because it’s this or sitting up in the stands watching younger kids pass your club records. So suck it up.”

Robert bites his gum hard. “I could fire you; you know that?”

Clive scoffs, “Yeah? Try finding someone dumb enough to replace me.”

Robert scowls and then the door opens to reveal a very pink Paddy Kirk standing there looking like he’s going to be sick.

“Hello.” Paddy waves a hand out and Robert does his best not to roll his eyes. He knows about Paddy; he went viral last season for asking an interviewer to repeat a question three times because he couldn’t understand it. He’s hapless and yet somehow he stays around. “Um, come this way.”

Paddy tries to show him to the only empty seat in the room like he has to, and Robert sits down awkwardly. He’s staring at Pollard and the back of someone’s head until he turns and sees that it’s Aaron Dingle. He looks about as pissed as Robert feels and it relaxes Robert for a second in this really weird way until he realises that Aaron should be kissing his feet. He’s saving his club.

“Hi Robert, glad you could join us.” Pollard says, and then he brings his hands together and smiles. “We’re all glad you’re here.”

Robert could do without the pleasantries so he just nods.

“I hope I’m not treading on anyone’s toes.” Robert says after a few seconds of just staring at Dingle looking like he’s about to throw Pollard through the window.

“Oh no, nothing like that.” Pollard says. Only Aaron just has to scoff, pull his head into his hands and sighs. He’s acting like a kid who’s been told he can’t play outside even when his older brother can.

“So there is a problem?” Robert says, he stares right at Dingle as he speaks.

Aaron scowls. “We’re rival teams you know.” It’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth. It tells Robert all he needs to know.

Robert laughs.

“What?” Aaron wants to deck him already it seems.

“We’re hardly in the same league. Pun intended.” Robert has this smile on his face. Aaron looks like he wants to punch him.

Aaron only sits up straighter. He looks like he’s going to explode. “You ain’t being a hero here, let’s get that straight now.”

It’s Robert’s turn to scowl. “Did I dream that result you just got?”

“More than you’ve got recently.” Aaron blurts out and Robert can’t help but find his anger a little amusing.

Robert’s eyes flicker. “Is that right?”

Aaron nods his head so vigorously and then looks back at Pollard. “Surely if we need someone, we should get someone who’s actually fit enough to make a difference.”

“Aaron.” Paddy whispers.

Robert smiles. “No. Let him carry on, let him be the captain that watches his team lose 6-1 every week. It’s not my fault you couldn’t step up to lead this lot.”

“What did you just ...” Aaron stands up like he’s going to do something, his eyes are wide and blue, and he probably thinks his towering over Robert when in reality he isn’t. He looks like an idiot.

“Aaron.” Paddy stands too, shakes his head at Aaron and Clive starts speaking about how he won’t let Robert be undermined like this, by the likes of this football club.

Robert sits back, waits for Aaron to sit down again and then he looks at Pollard.

“I deserve some respect.”

“Of course you do. All my players do.” Pollard says, like a politician trying to appease the crowds.

Robert sits forward and then looks at the way Aaron is bouncing his leg again like some sort of caged animal or something. He knows about Aaron, the underdog, the hero of the hour, the down to earth lad from the small village with a big dream.

Robert knows that he’s good at what he does. It doesn’t mean anything now.

“Of course.” Clive says. “But if Aaron doesn’t show respect, than none of his players will.”

Aaron breathes in deeply, everyone hears it. Robert can’t help but think he’s the most dramatic person he’s ever met.

“Fine.” Aaron mutters. “I just ain’t keen on us becoming Sugden FC.”

“Could make a change from Dingle FC.” Robert shrugs his shoulders, it’s not really helpful but he can’t help himself.

Aaron scowls at him, if looks can kill and all that.

“You work around us, not us around you.” Aaron says, like he’s the one in charge of the demands made around here.

“We’ll make this work.” Paddy keeps nodding his head like if he says it over and over again it’ll actually happen.

“Why don’t I have someone give you a tour of the place whilst me and Clive talk business?” Pollard says.

Paddy shoots up to do it, stupid smile on his face and says he’ll lead the way. “Aaron can come and …”

Aaron’s already by the door. “I’m shattered, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, and Robert tells himself it’s the wind that slams the door and not Aaron and his stupid self.

[sourb0i]

Shotgun Wedding

This work was inspired by this work by @shyravenns. I also have it posted on ao3; feel free to check it out!

Most missions ended in some kind of chaos. That was not new. Jim and Spock returned from their harrowing chase by a terrorist mob, exhausted and banged up but alive. Jim had that particular grin that meant he’d either done something very stupid or very smart and he wouldn’t let Spock hear the end of it for a week at least. The Enterprise pulled out of orbit, Jim finished his log, and then he and Spock left together to debrief. If they walked a little closer together, or if Jim let his hand brush Spock’s, nobody noticed. Or, rather, nobody bothered to notice. Jim and Spock had been together for quite some time— their particular antics weren’t unusual. 

What was unusual was the length of the debriefing. One hour passed, and then another without word from either the captain or his XO. They were gone so long that the bridge crew started placing bets on whether— and how— Jim had broken the Prime Directive again. Uhura bet that he had, probably by doing something dangerous, stupid, and completly unnecessary. Sulu thought he’d probably done it by accident. Chekov was staunchly against the idea as a whole, and Scotty happily played the bookie. 

When Jim and Spock finally emerged, just as disheveled and beat-up as when they’d gone in, it was with Jim’s arm slung over Spock’s shoulder and Spock’s hand curled protectively around Jim’s waist. Even Uhura was surprised— compared to the usual professionalism they showed on the bridge, they might as well have been making out. Pushing his glasses father up his nose, Jim cleared his throat for the crew’s attention— as if he’d needed to do so, with an entrance like that. 

“Spock and I got married.”

They were greeted with dead silence. “Technically, we were also bonded, although that process will take some time to become fully permanent,” Spock added unhelpfully.

A flurry of questions followed.

“Well,” Jim started to answer, grinning cheekily, “When two men love each other very much, they can decide to—”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Uhura interrupted. “Seriously, Jim, what the hell happened? When did you two get married?”

“Approximately three-point-seven minutes ago. I already had most of the paperwork filled; it was merely a matter of alerting the admiralty of our intentions.” The way Spock said it, it sounded easy. In reality, Jim almost would’ve rather faced the mob than the bureaucratic nightmare that was getting married to his first officer. 

“That’s not fair!” Chekov exclaimed. “That is no way to get married.”

Jim shrugged. “That’s the ‘fleet for you. All function, no flair.”

“No, Chekov’s right,” Sulu added. “That’s no way to get married. Even Ben and I had a small ceremony when we made it official.”

“You ought to have one, too!”

“Well, it’s a bit late for that now. I mean, we’re already—”

Uhura crossed her arms, indicating that further arguments would be heard. “Sorry, Kirk. You’re not weasiling your way out of this one.”

“Consider it a team-building experience,” Scotty suggested. “You know, to boost moral.”

Spco shook his head. “There are a number of other ways to boost moral. Such a celebration is both unnecessary and impractical.”

“That’s a wedding for you,” Uhura replied.

Jim snorted, then dissolved into full on laughter at the sheer force of will that was his crew. He’d never considered a real celebration, but there’d be no stopping them now. Spock, sensing Jim’s mirth through their slowly strengthening bond, allowed himself a smile. 

“So,” Sulu asked, barely restraining his excitement. “What flavor do you want the cake to be?”

[trishvaylar]

Maybe I just got lucky or maybe not, but I had a post in my drafts, a long one, written in two parts, about Rederina, I finished writing it, posted it but...it just got deleted, with no way for me to get it back unless I am to write it again right now. Well, seeing as there are only a few hours left until the Blacklist return with season 8, episode 03, and I am emotionally very uplifted right now (I was granted someone I love more then life, and that is inspiring, so much so writing a post I just spent over an hour finishing, from scratch, is not an ordeal at all, at least does not look like it anyway🤗) -I shall just do it again!

So, this Rederina post will contain two parts, the first about all the wrong reasons antis hate Rederina and the second about the sheer logic and inner magic and beauty of Rederina!

Shall we begin?

So, the first and foremost reason why there are Rederina-antis is that James Spader is a Man! Oh, of cause, he IS a man, there is no doubt in my mind about this and he has a great sex appeal, which we, women all around the world, feel very acutely. Yes, he is a man, but apart from that, he is although a great actor, whose gift comes from God! He could perfectly play a man who used to be a woman, no questions asked. Why would anyone object to that, if, when James'characters kissed a man in screen in Crash and in TV in the Office, I heard absolutely no objections to his chatacters' bisexualism. I see this as hypocricy and huge double standarts. I could also include an anti reason here that Rederina is anti-transgender. That is just stupid as fuck, because this is about love (Katarina's real reasons for changing her identity, which comes first, and gender switch comes in second, but I would elaborate on this in the second part of the post), not transgender rights I hugely respect.

So, I believe we are done with this reason, lets explore the others. And the top after mentioned above is the Daddygaters' reason. They believe Red is actually the real Reddington, Liz' Father. They create alaborate proofs of their theory, to explain why would Red make Liz believe she murdered her Father by shooting him when she was 4, why his remains were burried then dug up and then burned, if he, Red, was her Father all along. What Daddygaters do not recognize is that their elaborate explanations not only take the sound logic out of the show, but also make Red someone towards Liz he never was - a monster!

I really think this is enough talk about Daddygaters hating on Rederina.

The other reason for the antis is that we had The Witch listed as Katarina Rostova, number 3, on the blacklist. Oh well, this one is a piece of cake. It is a writing ruse used by many writers, ours just used this trick too. The moment I knew Red was an imposter, I knew we had to have an imposter Katarina, making her the name on the blacklist, very high up.

There is another reason, closely connected with the previous one: that Red and Katarina could not be one person, they have to be two people. I think this is very simple - The Witch is not Katarina, because WE KNOW KATARINA LOVES MASHA MORE THEN HER OWN LIFE! The Witch only cared for herself and her own survival, not about Liz. Mothers do not change like this, ever! Who else on the show loves Liz like this? Red, no one else. By that logic Red could ONLY be Katarina, Katarina could ONLY be our Red.

There are other, emotional, or plot-wise reasons for the antis to list, but they are minor and boring, we just talked about everything of any importance at all.

So we could light-heartedly pass to the second part of the post - the logic and inner beauty and magic of Rederina canon.

First and foremost Rederina is beautiful and logical because it tells the story of the greatest love of all, the Mother's love for her child. Look at what Katarina did in order to ensure her Daughter's safety - she forfeited her own identity, her personality, her self, not mentioning her Father, who never accepted the change and saw it as murder of who his daughter was, of her gender, her right to be Masha's Mother, to be with her. She entrusted Masha/Liz to Sam, who would ensure that Liz grew up emotionally safe, well protected, loved, taken care of, growing in the normal, non-criminal environment, with plenty of advise, money, guidince, smoothing the path done by Rederina. Because Katarina never planned to fully dissapear out of Liz' life. As Red (she chose to become Reddington for a few reasons - Reddington already existed, was dead, she knew everything about him, he was the Father of her only Daughter she literally adores, he was a man, by becoming him she could build that criminal Empire to counter any threat to Liz and to keep her, that is, Red, free and a very formidable enemy even in the eyes of the Cabal or anyone ever to try to topple Red or to trace Liz) she still influenced Liz' life, all aspects of it, but to Liz Red was only a notorious criminal, an he had to start from scratch in his relationship with the Daughter. When, in the end of season 7, Red answeres Liz' question by saying "you are the Daughter of Katarina Rostova", that sealed it for me. Liz inherits the Empire as the Daughter of the Mother, not as the Daughter of the Father, because, yes, Red has his name and face, but the soul is the Mother's!

In Cape May, where Katarina went alone 25 years ago, she tried to decide how to protect Masha. She was there alone. After "loosing" Liz Red goes to Cape May to try and find the spirit of the Woman, to ask one question - had his becoming Red to protect Liz failed to keep her from dying. His inner self, Katarina, could not answer that question, so Red goes to Dom, to THE PARENT, to try and get that answer. Eventually Dom and Aram lead Red to a belief Liz did not die as the result of that faithful choice.

We know Liz did not die, she tried to protect her own Daughter - Red understood, forgave without any discussion (but he did not forgive Mr Kaplan for hurting the Mother's heart), just stopped calling her Lizzy, for she is trully an adult in his eyes now. Red keeps forgiving, understanding, accepting Liz as only a Parent would. Those who wish Red to emotionally abandone Liz, they would never have their way.

I decided not to mention the romantic anti-rederina reason because that is soooo perverted in my mind I just can not bring myself to counter that with serious arguments. Romantic love is keen2 on the show, with the potential keenler, but romance between parent and child? No thank you! But having started the thread of emotional abandonement, I had to mention this one moment too.

So, Red seeks emotional support and advice from KATARINA'S FATHER? When it is a Parent Red needs? I mean, how more obvious could this get?

Then there is the fact that everything Liz ever finds out about her Mother, comes from Red. He tells Liz about what Katarina feared, how she loved Liz' Father, what she felt while being pregnant, what she felt after Masha was born, the photograph, of her and Masha, that her Mother is in her, even the diary and the time machine Liz got from Kirk - Kirk only came back into Liz' life thanks to seeing Liz and Red on TV together while they were on the run. The way Kirk and Red talk about Katarina is also very telling - Kirk tells what he remembers, and Red just adds personal details to what Katarina did, things only Katarina would really know. And Kirk would only accept help, the cure, from Katarina, for he knows - in her own way she cared...she cares still. That was one huge clue for me as to Rederina canon; Cape May was another; Dom was the next; even The Witch was just another clue.

Liz will know, eventually, who Red really is, and I hope she will hear it from him and all of us will:

I AM YOUR MOTHER!

That would be the most epic moment in the history of all the TV-shows in the last thirty years. Because that would prove the existance of the greatest love of all - the transending, unconditional, sucrificial, all-encompassing love ever existing in the world! The Blacklist, the show which is an ode to what makes our world worth living in: this kind of love which makes us human!

@katarinas-redemption with love and gratitude

[museumofinefarts]

And Now

for no reason at all: all Star Trek shows ranked by me.

8. Enterprise

The 2000-Archer-Series. God, I hated that show. The first season is paaaaainfully boring, the Vulkans moved from “Well, you may not like it but logic dictates...” to “Our only motivation is to be a prick to humans”, the Cold Temporal War plot never goes anywhere. Then in season 3 or whatnot they have their big 9/11-but-in-space-attack and captain Archer decides “Torture is good, actually.” Oh and I hated the intro music.

7. Discovery

Effects and action are nifty, but the whole plot is so incredible stupid grimdark. (Mind you, I usualy like grimdark). Then they bring in the mirrorverse and it gets even grimdarker and it is all gaaarbaaage. Never made it past season 1.

6. TOS

I have not seen a lot of the original series. Sometimes I want to, but sets and storys are so cheesy at times. From what I have seen there are 3 plots that are to be combined at will: Kirk vs a godlike entity, Kirk vs a supercomputer and Kirk vs an alien planet that looks and dresses like earth in the past.

Overall it is allright I guess.

5. Voyager

Voyager is nice, stoopid action fun. The Borg stuff is nice (although they became victim to severe powercreep) and there are some episodes I think of foundly (Year of Hell is my favorite 2-parter). Seven of Nine was a shameless pandering to a demographic I was part of at the time so that was nice and the Emergency Medical Holographic program is one of the best Star Trek characters of all time, hands down. Voyagers weak sides are the writers need to return to status quo at the end of each episode and the really bland characters of Chakotay, Kim, Paris, Torres and Kess.

4. Lower Decks

I just finished this, so maybe it has an unfair advantage, but Lower Decks rules. It is the first comedy-series set in the Star Trek universe and it uses that power to follow up on (and poke fun at) a lot of stuff the other series established. It derives much of its humor from aspiring-to-greatness-and-failing and reminded me alot of Venture Brothers in that regard. Its humor starts in the ‘mean’ camp, but the show stays true to the ideals of understanding and exploration a thousend times better than Discovery did.

3. The Orville

Yes, Seth McFarlanes Star Trek parody-series is better than 60% of real, canonical Star Trek. Deal with it. Now, you might think that The Orville is obsolete with the Lower Decks, but no. First of all there is a lot more of it. Second, as much as I enjoyed Lower Decks, lets be real: Boimler is a whiny bitch no one likes and Tendi and Rutherford are essentially the same character. On the other hand every character of the Orville is unique and fleshed out, even that walking snot guy. It has an interesting universe and some episodes I cant stop thinking about (for example All the World Is Birthday Cake, about a civilisation that takes zodiac signs deadly serious). Look, lets be real: It is TNG, but with dick jokes. I love it.

2. The Next Generation

It allmost has it all: space mysteries, interesting philosophical questions, strange ideas, the wonder of exploration, compassion saves the day and a lot of meme potential. This show rules.

1. Deep Space 9

The best Trek show and one of the best SF-shows overall. It has everything that made TNG great, but improves in two major points: first of all, every character is great. Every character. No other show on this list made me so interested in the lifes of every. Single. One. Of its cast. I love the chemistry of Bashir and O’Brien, Bashir and Garak, Kira and Dax, Quork and Odo, they are all GREAT. Just the character driven stuff alone is the best Trek ever deliverd.

But then there is the Dominion War. A long, consistent narative (unusual for its time. TNG and Voyager always snapped back to status quo, so this was really something new for me back then). It has a lot of great action, and it touches on dark and morally ambigious matters, in a way later shows tried and failed. If you want to binge one series during the next lockdown (one coming up in germany right now) give this one a shot. Just bear with it for the first season, it gets good once Sisko gets bald.

Not Rated - The Animated Series

I have not seen it an probably never will. Animation of that era is...well, they tried their best.

[ksfd89]

Jess Mariano’s One Man Show

Quick oneshot set during S3, as we didn't get enough cute moments between Rory and Jess!

This is not happening. Jess blinks and stares around the studio again in disbelief, refusing to accept that he's spending his Saturday night at Miss Patty's School of Dance. He's still clinging to the hope that this is some kind of hallucination brought on by eating the bacon that was sitting out too long.

"Smile! I want big smiles, right now!"

Like everyone in this godforsaken town doesn't have a crazy smile permanently on their face anyway. It's as if every neighbour is Pennywise! Of all the crazy shindigs this town could come up with, this one takes the cake. Jess was just walking along, head in book, half-reading, half-thinking about what food to order for movie night with Rory, when Miss Patty was grabbing his arm and some story was being babbled in his ear about Kirk getting stuck on a rafter. Jess actually allowed himself to be taken to the studio, more out of curiosity than real concern, and the next thing he knew the door was slammed shut and Kirk was blocking it. Jess had turned around to see a crowd of other townsfolk muttering amongst themselves and Miss Patty strolled up to the stage, a dangerous beam on her face.

"Welcome to the show, ladies and gentlemen!"

"I swear," Jess mumbled to Kirk, "after this you'll be in the rafters for real, and no one's going to rescue you."

"Oh, I'm used to that," Kirk said cheerfully and, before Jess could retaliate, Miss Patty called for volunteers which was how Jess found himself on the stage with a few other victims after Kirk had shoved him in the back. No one, Jess wasn't surprised to see, had volunteered for real, and as he looked across the audience his eyes landed on Rory. He stared at her and she looked as though she was trying not to giggle. As if there's something funny about this! And Jess thought the main struggle of the evening would be convincing her not to order from Sandeep's. The only saving grace is that Luke and Lorelai aren't here. Jess catches himself checking again, just to make sure. The jokes from either of them are more he can bear.

"I'm arranging a summer concert," Miss Patty tells them all, "and I need you dollfaces to try out a few numbers. Of course, I'll be the main event, but I need backup. Now, don't look so concerned - there's costumes in the back and a box right here!"

Costumes? No way. This is worse than being beaked by the swan! Rory isn't even trying to pretend not to laugh now and Jess remarks, "Hey, aren't you going to support me?"

"I can support you right here," Rory giggles and shakes her head as Jess asks, "You can't support me from the stage?"

"Not unless you want the audience's ears to bleed - I can't sing."

"I can vouch for that. Her singing is flatter than my first boyfriend's mattress," Miss Patty says seriously, which Jess doesn't need elaborating on.

"Fine, fine you can't sing. But -"

"You know I can't dance! Years of ballet lessons and I still stunk!"

"What about the dance marathon?"

"That was different!"

"Right," Jess sulks. "And what makes you think I'm Fred Astaire?"

"It's funny. Plus, there's your dazzling good looks," Rory remarks and Jess can't help smiling a little in a spite of himself. She's definitely not ordering from Sandeep's after this though.

Miss Patty starts tinkling a tune on the piano, stopping to rummage through the box and throw things at the 'volunteers'.

"I thought we'd start with This Little Light of Mine, as the concert's about the town of Stars Hollow and we're all little stars! Well," Patty amends with a chuckle, "I'm a big star, but this one's not about me."

Jess feels his mirth trickle away as the townsfolk start pawing through feather boas and sequin vests. Suddenly, he recalls a play he did in Kindergarten where he played a sheep. Liz was supposed to be there and Jess was so excited he couldn't eat lunch fast enough, even if his costume was more threadbare than wool. Then the play started, and Liz wasn't there, and Jess couldn't think of his line. Someone laughed, Jess remembered - baa! - and as he opened his mouth to say it his entire lunch came up instead. That was the end of any form of acting career.

"I'm not putting on some costume," Jess says and Patty purses his lips. "No way."

"It's for the show!"

"I don't give a damn!"

Everyone stops and when Jess looks back at Rory she's biting her lip, looking concerned rather than amused now. He looks desperately at her and forces his glance back.

"I'll sing for...whatever the hell this is," he forces himself to say. "But just..."

"Alright, alright," Patty says and Jess lets out a sigh of relief. "But you'd better give a good performance!"

She sits back at the piano, starting to play, and Jess can see the audience still whispering. A spark of defiance flies up. They want a performance? He'll give them a performance!

Jess waits for everyone to start singing, gradually opening his mouth and joining in and sticks his hands in his pockets. As he joins the chorus he brings out a lighter, flaring it on the word shine. Laughter and whispers start spreading across the room and Rory is shaking her head, but smiling as well. Encouraged, Jess carries on, lifting up the lighter and swaying a little.

Finally, Kirk looks over and shouts, "Fire hazard! I'm on it, Patty!" Ungainly, he jumps onto the stage, falling onto the mostly-empty box of costumes and over the room's laughter Patty exclaims, "Oh, get up Kirk! And you -" she says sternly to Jess "we've all had enough of your hooligan ways!"

Jess almost bursts out laughing. Hooligan ways? Jeez, have these people never been beyond their backyard? They should come to New York if it want to see real hooliganism. Controlling himself, Jess shrugs and says, "Just trying to add a little something to the show."

"Thank you, there'll be sparklers," Patty says and Jess practically strains himself holding in laughter.

"And those are much safer than my lighter," he says seriously and, ignoring him, Patty starts to go back to her piano.

"Okay, everyone, I think we're done with that show. Time for variety hour!"

Variety hour, huh? Either inspiration or stupidity seizes Jess and without thinking he snatches up a spare pair of sunglasses, unpops two buttons on his shirt and grabs a sequinned feather boa before loudly breaking into some Bowie.

"I'm back on Suffragette City! Wham bam, thank you ma'am!"

Loud shouts and whoops echo around the room as Jess runs down from the stage and jumps around the room, the boa swinging wildly and the sunglasses slipping down his face. Pressing them back up, he sparks the lighter up again to add a little edge, or whatever you want to call it. Patty is staring, for once struck dumb, and with a great leap Jess jumps back on the stage and finishes the chorus, "Oh, my Suffragette City, oh my Suffragette City! Suffragette!"

To really make their eyes pop, Jess gets out a cigarette. He's mostly given them up but still has a spare in his pocket. He lifts it, pretending to light it and ceases as he sees Patty glare, shoving it back in his pocket. Picking up a random tennis racket off the floor, Jess strums on it as his guitar and whistles the final bar before singing once more, "Suffragette!" There's a shocked silence and then spattered applause starts and Rory gets up in her seat, cheering. Jess takes a wide bow, dropping the tennis racket, and tips an imaginary hat.

"Encore!" Rory calls, laughing so hard she can hardly get the words out. "Encore for Jess Mariano's one man show!"

"There will be no encore, Rory Gilmore!" Patty says sharply. "I think Mr Mariano is finished here for the night!"

"Would you say I had a little talent?" Jess asks, panting a little as he catches his breath.

"I could see you on Broadway," Patty allows and Jess thinks he maybe sees some amusement in her eye. "But not necessarily on the stage."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Jess grins, straightening up and dropping the sunglasses in the box. "Night, Patty."

Rory takes his arm as they stroll out, laughing as they hear Babette shout, "Didn't I tell you he was a gnome-kicker? He can't be trusted!"

"Wow," Rory says in admiration once they're at a safe distance from the studio. "I was just teasing you when I called you Fred Astaire."

"Astaire's got nothing on me."

"You were amazing!" Rory exclaims, stopping to put her arms around him. "I was impressed!"

"Yeah, well...they said they wanted a show."

"Not complaining. I only wish I had a camera."

"Can't tell you how thankful I am you didn't."

"Remembering it's just as good."

Rory lifts up a corner of the feather boa Jess still has around his neck and, laughing, Jess lifts it up and puts it around her neck.

"Looks better on you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I wore one once with a tiara."

"I'd like to see that."

He leans down to kiss her and Rory holds him tighter, eagerly kissing him back before breaking away.

"You know, it's a good thing you didn't smoke that cigarette or I wouldn't have kissed you. You know I hate that taste."

"I wasn't really going to light it," Jess jokes and then, with a grin, "But maybe you should kiss me again, you know, to make sure."

"Right," Rory says seriously. "Just to be sure."

She kisses him more than once, making absolutely certain, and Jess cups her head in his hand. She looks beautiful, even with the silly feather boa. If anything, it adds to it all. He wants to take her somewhere, be with her, do more than make out on the couch with Luke interrupting every five minutes. Rory gazes back at him, her blue eyes shining, and Jess feels his heart yearn too. He's never cared more for anyone, he knows. He wonders if he can ever say it.

"Jess..."

"Let's go somewhere."

"Where?" Rory asks reasonably and Jess shrugs helplessly. Where the hell are they going to go - her place? Lorelai will be camped out right by the bedroom door.

"Guess back to mine," Jess says resignedly and Rory smiles, looking a little daring as she says, "Hey, we'll figure something out. We'll find somewhere."

"Oh yeah?" Jess asks, brightening up and Rory laughs, sounding a little nervous.

"I don't mean tonight...I'm not um, ready..."

"That's okay," Jess says quickly and she nods.

"But sometime, I swear. Keep thinking what you're thinking."

"I don't have a choice."

They walk back to Luke's, hand-in-hand, and Rory says nonchalantly, "That shirt looks good like that."

"It does, huh?" Jess grins, using his spare hand to touch the exposed skin. He has to force himself not to think about Rory touching there or it's doubtful he'll even make it back to the apartment. He knows he'll need a cold shower later.

Rory answers by pressing herself closer to his side. They walk silently for a moment until Jess releases a breath and says, "So, Almost Famous tonight?"

"Jess," Rory groans, stopping. "We've seen that a million times!"

"Oh come on! I humiliated myself for you tonight!"

"Hey, I never asked for a Bowie concert!" Rory argued but she laughs. "I loved it though. Okay, okay, we'll watch Almost Famous."

"Thank you."

"And order from Sandeep's?"

"Rory, you know it stinks out the entire apartment!"

"But if I have to see Kate Hudson try and commit suicide again..."

"Fine, you've got yourself a deal."

"Thank you."

"You drive a hard again, Rory Gilmore," Jess says, stopping to kiss her, and Rory smiles as they break apart.

"Yes I do and you love it."

Jess kisses her again in answer. He does love it. He loved doing the Bowie riff for her, he loves all the things he does with her. Maybe he even loves her...what does Jess know? But right now he's with her, holding her to him, and it's more than Jess ever wished for. All the other junk he's going through doesn't seem important. Rory's with him, the night is theirs and Jess knows he's never been so happy before. He hopes she knows. Rory squeezes his hand, Jess kisses her head and they walk together into the night.

[alexanderveigh]

Ask game

tagged by the lovely Maya @mayasigma <3 

tagging @okay-and-wonderful @gender-snatched @marlinspirkhall and @sparklecharmer 

this is long so don’t worry if you don’t want to do it! ^^

1. What is the color of your hairbrush? Black, but I have a blue carebear comb also...

2. A food you never eat? Meat, as I’m vegan. 

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Warm. So goddamn warm. Thanks, second puberty. 

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Doing some cardio exercises. 

5. What is your favourite candy bar? I don’t know what really classifies as candy, I just love chocolate. Any kind of vegan milk chocolate! 

6. Have you ever been to a professional sporting event? ahahahaha, no. 

7. What was the last thing you said out loud? “same”...after listening to a podcast which said “she was painted as a slut with a bladder problem”

8. What is your favourite ice cream? Stracciatella. Same as Maya! 

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Water

10. Do you like your wallet? I have a funky card holder because it’s small ans can fit into my pockets, its got a golden pattern on it. 

11. What was the last thing you ate? Home made sweet potato and chocolate cake

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? I actually did, I bought some stuff online. Couple of dresses and shirts. 

13. The last sporting event you watched? You are mistaking me for someone who know anything about sports.

14. What is your favourite flavor of popcorn? Sweet and salted! Best of both worlds!

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to? A dude on Instagram who wanted to know where I got my Kirk shirt from. 

16. Ever go camping? I used to go a lot with my family. Haven’t been for a good few years now. I’d go again, I want to go wild camping one day!

17. Do you take vitamins? I should but I haven’t for a while.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? I have never been to church on a Sunday. 

19. Do you have a tan? Not right now. 

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? I eat Chinese food a lot more, but I do adore pizza, it’s a treat for me. 

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? I don’t drink soda and I never use straws tbh. 

22. What color socks do you usually wear? Mostly just black but I have a load of funky pastel socks that I wear with my more aesthetic outfits. 

23. Ever drive above the speed limit? I have a few times yeah. I don’t currently own a car now though, so now danger of that tehe. 

24. What terrifies you? Abandonment. Heights. The deep parts of the ocean. Being unfulfilled in life. 

25. Look to your left what do you see? A wall lmao

26. What chore do you hate? Laundry and making the bed. I don’t really mind doing the dishes, i just stick on a podcast and dance a bit while I do it. 

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? I think of steve irwin and cry. 

28. What is your favourite soda? I dont really drink it but if I have to choose, I like pink lemonade. I’m such a basic bitch. 

29. Do you go into a fast food place or just hit the drive through? I dont really go to fast food places. 

30. Who was the last person you talked to? My girlfriend, Ana <3 

31. Favourite cut of beef? No beef for me thanks.

32. Last song you listened to? Physical by Dua Lipa.

33. Last book you read? The Secret Life of Cows, such an adorable book!

34. Favourite day of the week? What is time???

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards? probably, very slowly. 

36. How do you like your coffee? Black with some stupid sweet syrup in it, like hazelnut 

37. Favourite pair of shoes? My big stompy goth demonia platform boots. they make me feel powerful. 

38. At what time do you usually go to bed? God....it’s all over the place atm. Usually between midnight and 2am. 

39. At what time do you normally get up? 7:30, but before the quarantine it was 7:00am

40. What do you prefer - sunrises or sunsets? Sunsets. Something so romantic about them. I think of being on the beach with my family on the isle of wight and watching the sun set over the sea. Sun rises just make me think of what I was a teenager and partying so long that I just wouldn’t sleep. 

41. How many blankets are on your bed? None, too goddamn hot!!

42. Describe your kitchen plates? So boring, just white. I’m saving up for lots of pastel kitchen wear! the dream!

43. Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? Anything gin or whiskey based. 

44. Do you play cards? I can play cards yeah, I usually play at family gatherings. 

45. What colour is your car? Don’t have one!

46. Can you change a tire? Nope. I’m gay. 

47. What is your favourite province/state? I’ve never been to the US, so I can’t answer that sadly. 

48. Favourite job you ever had? It wasn’t a real job per sue but volunteering at a big film festival was the most fun experience of my life!

49. How did you get your biggest scar? ....I fell over in a club on my 22nd birthday and gashed my knee open. I don’t even remember it happening. I was a drunken idiot. 

50. What did you do today that made someone happy? I arrange to see my family for the first time in three months! I think my mum is really happy. 

[austennerdita2533]

Slide on back, into this hometown photograph

Summary: Rory and Jess are just two old friends who find themselves perched, shoulder-to-shoe, on the gazebo steps with autumn dusk at their backs and a bottle of Miss Patty’s wedding whiskey between them, plus one glass each.

The night may be young but the sparks between them are not. After all, there's nothing like a celebration of love to stir old feelings...

(Canon divergent + Wedding Reception Fix-It) (Best Man Jess + Maid of Honor Rory)

(AO3) (FF.net)

It starts off innocent enough, he thinks.

There’s a short ceremony, frilly anecdotes, laughter. No bad moods or empty chairs. Fresh, crisp weather and cinnamon sticks. An exuberant motormouth bride who’s escorted by her beaming grump of a groom. Quirky table settings. Leafy napkins. Champagne. Live music once the band finishes tuning, the set list comprised of a multitude of Lane-approved songs from which the guests can choose and then be entertained for hours upon hours. Plus so much engorging food it’d make Willy Wonka himself bust twenty belt loops.

There’s no shortage of eccentricity whirling about at all times either. It’s more like a clownless circus than a wedding soiree what with a pig ring bearer and an accessorize-your-own snow cone booth that’s parked near the diner, not to mention the roster TJ’s circulating through the crowd so he can captain a new flag frisbee league on a vacant Doose-owned lot that was, supposedly, the site of a lettuce stampede a few months ago, but none of that’s surprising at an event like this one. Not here. Not for a town like Stars Hollow, no way.

Somehow that’s fine. Preferable to him, incredibly enough. Whatever.

It seems Jess has grown more tolerant of this place over time, who knows when exactly, but the blaring lack of Elvis Costello lyrics in his brain these days makes it true. A begrudging fact to be more accurate. And although confessing such an abhorrent thought would’ve scandalized his teenage punk of a self into incredulity once, now, despite the close-knit insanity that abounds everywhere he looks or moves, and with the sum of it being nothing short of entertaining and refreshingly jarring to behold, he finds he doesn’t hate it here any longer.

Nope. Consider his attitude changed. His resentment markedly dissipated. Hell, one could almost accuse him of looking forward to his visits back every now and again.

Isn’t that wild? Princess Bride inconceivable at best. The thought is so downright riotous he wonders if perhaps one of Babette’s lawn gnomes may’ve hypnotized him back in 2002.

(If pressed on the veracity of that pleased-to-visit accusation, though, he swears he’ll deny it. One hundred percent. Scoffing through his teeth for extra measure like the smart-assed delinquent Taylor probably still assumes he is at his core.)

It probably helps that no pesky or unfortunate stirrings from the past have dragged him asunder in Stars Hollow for a while, either. And for that, he’s grateful. It allows him to breathe easier at present. Relax. Relieved, frankly, that he and Rory can be at this reception together without awkwardness, without misgivings of any sort. Both of them enjoying the tulle-tied pomp and swirl of festivity around them instead.

It’s nice, isn’t it, Jess admits to himself as he peers at her sideways. Whatever this is. Her mouth’s poised around a pumpkin-headed utensil with her nose scrunched ironically at the moment, blue eyes shining, all while another five references rest on the tip of her tongue that are bound to amuse him once they fly out, and fly out they will. Shortly.

Yeah, he decides with a crack of his knuckles and a lazy smile. The comfort and familiarity they’ve always shared is still there, stirring subtly. It buzzes around them like a cozy undercurrent with no off switch.

Despite the many years he and Rory have spent apart, and no matter the surplus of sparse emails, text messages, or outdated addresses they have or have not exchanged in all that time, they always seem to fall back into it as soon as they reunite, don’t they? Ease. Amity. That ability to simply be who they are.

Like a worn yet jostled feather drifting on air, or an inked over whisper emboldening in the back of his mind, Jess feels the inevitability of that settle between them again.

Their gazes connect, spark, but there’s no pressure. There’s nothing to crinkle meaning into what they are or are not this evening. No expectations whatsoever. Just two old friends who find themselves perched, shoulder-to-shoe, on the gazebo steps with autumn dusk at their backs and a bottle of Miss Patty’s wedding whiskey between them, plus one glass each.

The alcohol is a tasty addition to the cake they’re sampling.

As it turns out, there are twelve different kinds thanks to the chef and best friend of the bride who seems to have arbitrarily decided that sugary gluttony doesn’t apply to those with the last name Gilmore. Or to anyone else who dares to try and eat alongside them tonight in button-popping solidarity. Not that Jess is complaining or anything, because he isn’t. And that’s shocking on its own given his disgruntled history with town events.

With ice cream by the dessert wayside or not, though, he’s satisfied. Stuffed full but content. Each slice of cake he’s tasted - number seven and counting - has been delicious. Just delicious.

Still, with no iron stomach of his own, and a frosting limit they’ve long since surpassed, he finds he appreciates the boozy reprieve more than she knows.

Liquid celebration, Rory calls it as she pours. And he agrees. It’s the perfect phrase, smiling broader then because he knows the warmth in his chest has nothing at all to do with a stupid drink or a home-brewed fifth of whiskey, though he can’t deny the heavenly sting a perfectly aged malt elicits as it slicks down his throat in one smooth swallow. Nor does it come from the next generous swig or two he takes after they toast beneath the twinkle lights Kirk has accidentally ripped loose because he caught the bridal bouquet with his teeth earlier - yes, his teeth - thankfully landing in decorative hay instead of atop Sookie’s elaborative dinner buffet, but it has everything to do with those canoodling newlyweds in the center of the town square over there and the emotion that had shone from his uncle’s face during his Best Man’s speech. A moment that had Lorelai blotting at her mascara in touched surprise herself. No matter how much she’d love to deny it.

He knows that whatever’s sloshing through his insides may have something to do with her, too. Rory. She’s propped against him, barefoot, her toes pinched and sore after too many hours in uncomfortable shoes, babbling and laughing like old times. Like there’s nowhere else she wants to be.

Though Jess is by no means a sentimental man himself, not in an overt way in any case, it’s safe to say a few more kernels of feeling have popped out of him today given the occasion and - yeah, okay - maybe because of the surrounding company as well.

Bizarrely, with her one arm looped around his bicep, and pop culture references rolling off her tongue like a dictionary game, he feels as if he’s come home in a way. Not to a place per se, but to a select few who’ve scooted aside and made room for him in their lives. Including him as if his presence matters. Treating him as though he belongs unconditionally; no matter what, no matter when he may or may not pop around in the future.

It’s an oddly pleasant feeling, to be regarded. Disarming for a man who’s spent most of his life feeling abandoned, on his own much of the time.

So the warmth gushing through him at present is not only foreign, unsettled in potency, but also painstaking and persistent. At least in the sense that it continues to vibrate gently inside him as he and Rory sip their drinks in companionable babble and quiet.

He feels the buttery splash: an amber liquid molting against his ribcage that requires no draining or denying the more the wedding revelry sinks into the background and it’s just them. Just this. Just reminiscence and emotion regarded like a snapshot photograph. It’s something which continues to evade conscious defining as the minutes continue to tick away faster and faster because it turns out the woman next to him is a not-so-innocuous additive that somehow manages to sharpen then inebriate his senses without trying. She simply talks, talks some more, and all feels right with the world.

Huh. Isn’t that something?

Odd, probably, that Jess is not at all freaked out by it when he knows he should be. He faults the booze for that, definitely the booze. It muddles everything.

“So how many broads have you wowed with your dance moves so far, Gene Kelly?” Rory asks as she refills his glass and hands it over.

“None.”

“You’re kidding.” Incredulous, “You haven’t danced with anyone?”

“Nope.”

“Come on!”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he shrugs.

“How? I mean…you must’ve been forced to endure the Macarena or the Cuban Shuffle or something! Or, I don��t know, maybe Miss Patty and Babette roped you into a three-to-tango situation so they could fight over who got to dip you before one of them accidentally grabbed your butt? Those two tend to become rather handsy after they’ve hit the hooch. Always going after some young stud and mistaking him for Miss Patty’s Prospective Husband Number Thirteen, so it’s okay. I’ll listen.”

“It’s just us,” she elbows him, grins playfully, “you can tell me. You can own up to your bad luck. It happens to the most unassuming of former hoodlums in the Hollow. I promise I won’t make fun of you for it…” She slides her tongue across her teeth to repress a laugh, “Much.”

When Jess waves this off as inaccurate, too, Rory looks all the more aghast while a tinge of scrutiny causes her forehead to scrunch. Intent to assess whether or not he’s telling the truth.

“Fine,” she rests her chin on his shoulder and sighs. Takes a sip of her drink. It appears something in his smirk has convinced her to change tactics. “But I still don’t believe you.”

“Ouch. I feel like I should be offended by that,” he laughs.

“Wait, crap. Crap. That’s so not what I meant! Let me—” A pause. “It’s only that Grandma’s been pouncing on people since the music started,” she says, “shoving any poor sucker she could find under the twinkle lights so the photographer she hired - against Mom’s encyclopedia-length DON’T YOU DARE pre-wedding conditions, might I add - can snap a plethora of suitable candid photos for her expensive Lorelai Gets Married album. I, myself, was paired with Michel no less than four times! Four!”

“So the point I’m trying to make is this: nobody is exempt from at least a twirl or two before the night ends.” Poking him, “Not even you.”

“Funny how that falls somewhere between an offer and a threat, Gilmore,” he says with an unexpected twinge once he realizes what she’s suggesting.

“Oooh. Finally caught on, did you?”

Amused, he leans forward on his elbows. Cocks his head, “I suppose this means you’re asking if I’ll pencil you in, miss?”

“Indubitably, sir. Well—both you and your two left feet that is,” Rory amends with a wink.

“Lame. What a poor choice of cliché. “I mean, listen, I lived in New York City and could prove to be Fred Astaire swingin’ good for all you know.”

“Are you?”

“Hell no.”

Laughing, “Good. You nearly had me worried there. I’m no Ginger Rogers either so we’ll be well-matched. Now up, up, up!” she says with a finger snap. “Time to show me how well you dip, mister.” A hand curled around his tie, which she’s flapping against his shirt, Rory stands and yanks it over her shoulder with a conspiratorial smile.

Without warning, she tugs Jess behind her into a swell of bodies and music before enough sense returns for him to concoct an excuse and wriggle out of it; which, were he to attempt it, would classify as a Luke-like default in every way.

Seemingly determined to claim at least one dance, though, Rory brokers no room for argument. She wastes no time in wrapping his arms around her waist. Next she moves her feet, her knees, her hips to the acoustic beat of the song in the hopes he’ll mimic the movement.

It doesn’t take long to match her rhythm, with him transitioning them smoothly from a sway into a rock.

They teeter closer and chatter to fill the empty space. To curb the tension. Her head brushes against his cheek a little too intimately during the chorus, her touch tantalizing on his nape, but neither one of them draw back. Neither one of them pull away.

Numerous sets lapse before they retreat back to the gazebo perch, their cake and whiskey stash replenished, the hour growing late.

The guests have largely cleared out by now. Only a few stragglers remain who are too drunk, too comfortable, or too tired to care about two old friends who have slipped off together again. Alone.

Apparently all it takes is a wedding party to nip Stars Hollow’s “nosy neighbor” defect in the bud temporarily. Amazing, isn’t it?

Content to watch Rory slide her arms through the sleeves of his jacket, which he’s just draped over her shoulders before the November chill can make her shiver, Jess allows himself to rake over her features for a second, unhurried. To catch a whiff of her floral perfume. Bottling up another memory. Then he becomes much braver than he usually dares by reaching forward to thumb off a fleck of leftover icing on her cheek, chuckling because she flushes, because she pats around for a napkin in vain, holding her eyes longer than he knows he should afterward because her pout is adorable and cuter than he remembered and - oh, screw it - he might be slightly tipsy. He might be drunk off the curves of her face.

Shit. What if things between them aren’t as simple and benign as he wants them to be?

She looks pretty, man. Too damn pretty.

Jess realizes he may be lost for good now, dazed by sweet proximity. He’s a satellite slipping back into the gravity of the once-upon-a-them he thought had broken off long ago, gone astray, combusted so as to no longer be a part of this reality. So what is happening?  

Soon Rory’s blinking back at him.

Embarrassment fading, a small smile forms at the corner of her mouth, the moonlight a trickle of pearls on her skin. One, two, three seconds more and everything else recedes further when she catches him lightly by the wrist before he can think to pull away.

The move surprises him. That ABORT, ABORT frequency in his mind has dulled down to a slow hush, a simple nothing.

They’re alone here, cocooned in a little niche they’ve procured with happy understanding of the other’s needs. This shared solitude is an alcove. Their temporary respite from the remaining crowd and today’s craze.

Swallowing, his throat suddenly dry, Jess stills. Rory idles, her face paned in gentle curiosity. Their gazes tangle with something precarious, a question, something long since buried.

Can this be happening again? Really? Can an ember this old, this burnt up, return to the wick and still catch flame?

Once she shifts closer on the gazebo steps, however, tilting into his touch, her skirt spilt across his legs, he doesn’t bother trying to retie the knots around his heart. What’s the use? There’s a stupid sonnet of nothing and everything building inside of him that he hopes to find the strength to voice before it dissolves in his mind and it’s too late. But he can’t find a pen. He can’t write it down. There’s no room left in his head for words at this point, anyway.

Helpless, he’s stuck on the other end of her spaghetti string like that stupid Disney mutt, the Tramp, and he hates himself for it. Hates it. Yet still owns it all the same.

It’s too exhausting trying to figure out what the hell it all means, so he doesn’t try. Doesn’t analyze.

He’s so sick of rebuffing those edge of seventeen flutters that lurk in his recesses like a hot spot. A reservoir of feeling. He’s so done with all these highlighted passages in his periphery that refuse to fade with time.

He can barely breathe let alone think about the erratic drumbeat spiking in his ears after her palm glides over his pulse point, down the cuff, up his sleeve…

He can hardly refuse when she’s crumbling his self-control, towing him in like he’s already caught…

So he lets go.

Surrenders.

Giving into the ache before it swallows him up whole.

The air charged, unable to glance away, Jess lets his hand fall. Rory takes it into her possession immediately. His other one hovers in the air a moment, tentative, then comes to rest on her shoulder.

It seems the lapels of his tux jacket have flattened a few tendrils of her glossy hair beneath the collar, so he slips a hand underneath it to free them with a deft brush of fingertips against her neck without a word. Afraid to break the spell. Afraid to move even as they both lean in and bump a whiskey glass with a little plink from a clumsy ankle, and smash it to pieces.

Distracted, neither one of them flinch. They disregard the shattered glass entirely.

Eyes locked, resistance faltering, Rory tugs him once, gentle and prodding. Though encouragement is plain in her face, it’s courage he lacks. It’s courage he needs most.

With only a breath left to cross, to finish it off, and with their foreheads already touching, Jess knows one inch more will doom him for certain. He knows one inch less will kill him right where he sits, no joke. And jeez, how big of a chump he feels to admit it without blaming something else first.

Does she notice, he wonders? Does she perceive an iota of this conflict? Can she sense the war he’s losing or has he gotten too fucking good at inscrutable emotion?

“Jess?” she asks softly, the sound more like a pant than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Should…are we about to do something smart or stupid?”

“I…” reeling, “I don’t know. Could go either way.”

“If you had to pick?”

“Do you, uh,” he pushes bangs from her face, “do you really need an answer?”

“Only for clarity’s sake,” she says, “but yeah.” Biting her lip, “If you can.”

“Right.”

“So?”

“Both then,” he says with a protracted sigh. He won’t lie to her; he never could. “Definitely both.”

“Right. Okay.” She mulls it over. Her eyelashes flit against the bridge of his nose. “Both.” Tenderly, Rory cups his jaw, runs her fingers through stubble that never used to grow there until he’d reached his late twenties. “I think,” her mouth ghosts against his cheek, beckoning, “I think I can live with a little contradiction in my life,” she smiles. “Can’t you?”

There’s no turning back after that.

His lips throb, they’re already bruised with want. Burning. They’re already smarting from a mark of affection Jess remembers too well from his past dreams but knows hasn’t been anything concrete in years, not given, not taken, not tasted since they were a couple of kids and bad timing was the ultimate champion reigning between them.

But there’s not a single obstacle in their way now, is there? No problems. No boyfriends or girlfriends lurking. No friends, no family members, no town folk who are raining down judgment or wondering if they’ll regret this in the morning.

So where Rory leads next he’s bound to follow. He feels it in the bending, in the liquid pooling of his bones. Who is he to resist? Who is he to try and temper the fire spreading through him like a nuclear bomb as she wraps her arms around his neck? Pulling him in, holding him against her like she never plans to let go again.

Jess shuts his eyes. Decides to close the remaining distance. He’ll take this chance, damn those consequences, worry about cauterizing the hurt he’ll more than suffer from later.

Yeah, later…

After all, how can he pretend any of this is innocent? What could be less indifferent than making out with his ex-girlfriend behind a gazebo at his uncle’s wedding reception?

Reckless or not, he’ll live with it.

[itsclydebitches]

The Needs of the Many: A Garashir Reading of “Broken Link”

What’s the current definition of stupidity? It might be trying to write meta for a twenty-six year old show. But you know what? I’m doing it anyway. I make questionable fandom choices and regret mostly nothing.

So. I’m still watching Deep Space Nine—about halfway through season five, but with pretty much every spoiler under my belt considering I have no patience and dove straight into the fic—and I am, without a doubt, absolute garashir trash. Now this is important because as I watch I’ve been on the lookout for all the major scenes and episodes that the fans like to talk about, those that catch our attention for obvious reasons: “Past Prologue,” “The Wire,” “Our Man Bashir,” and the like. However, through my (admittedly cursory) browsing these last few months, I’ve been surprised to find no one talking about season four’s finale “Broken Link.”

On the surface it makes sense. Though Garak gets one of his all too rare episodes, we’ve past the point of no return with Berman’s homophobia and our two lovesick faves aren’t interacting as much as they once did. RIP. 

Thus, it’s easy to pass over Garak doing another Bad Thing in the name of his Cardassian devotion, especially when the Bad Thing is circumvented thanks to Worf instead of Julian. However, what’s nagged at me since watching that scene is one simple, yet significant detail.

Julian was down on that planet.

Quick re-cap for those of us who haven’t watched in a while: the Defiant is taking Odo back to the Great Link in order to cure him of the disease they saddled him with in the first place (nice, huh?). Garak realizes that this may be the one and only time they have all the Founders together and potentially vulnerable. He tries to gain control of the Defiant’s weaponry, but is ultimately discovered and stopped by Worf. Sorry, Garak. You might be surprisingly fit for just a plain, simple tailor, but you’ve got nothing on a battle-obsessed Klingon.

All caught up? Fantastic. Now, all around it’s not a terrible plan. There are just two potential issues. The first is the whole, you know, genocide thing. Some of us tend to frown at that, no matter how much good eliminating the Founders might do moving forward. Beyond that pesky little moral issue, we have the problem that Odo, Sisko, and Julian are all down on the planet’s surface, their deaths a surety if Garak manages to succeed in his plan. This is acknowledged too, so we can’t live with the happy assumption that Garak just wasn’t informed about who was accompanying Odo on this particular mission:

Worf: And what about Odo, and Captain Sisko and Doctor Bashir?

Garak: They'll die. And once the Jem'Hadar ships realize what we're doing, so will we. But what are our lives compared to saving the entire Alpha Quadrant?

From a shipping perspective it doesn’t look too good. After all, how loving is your duo if one can so easily sacrifice the other, without a moment’s hesitation or—dare we imagine it—a single tear in sight? It’s a rather grim picture, the sort of scene that jars shippers out of their lovely little pockets, carefully crafted worlds where suspension of disbelief runs wild. The show-runners may not have had the balls to make anything canon until 2017 (good god), but provided the characters in question don’t actively sabotage the relationship, thereby leaving room for imagining something more, you’re good to go. No such luck with this scene.

At least, it appears that way at first glance. It occurs to me that there are a couple of potential readings if we feel inclined to reach for them. I find it notable that Garak is already thinking to the next logical consequence. That is, Jem’Hadar ships bearing down on them, him meeting his own demise soon after Julian. There’s admittedly something romantic in that. The willingness to let your loved one go, safe in the knowledge that you’ll be quick to join them. We could even argue that Garak isn’t thinking straight in this moment. We know he’s a proud man devoted to his people, exile aside, and right before this he has a rather gutting conversation with the primary Founder:

Founder: They're dead. You're dead. Cardassia is dead. Your people were doomed the moment they attacked us. I believe that answers your question.

So, as far as Garak knows, entire fleets of his people were killed in their last battle, including his father—quite the emotional blow, even if Tain was an absolute shit dad. He’s also received confirmation of what the Federation has long suspected, that the Dominion isn’t content to keep the Alpha Quadrant out of their business, but has every intention of seizing control and, given their history, eliminating rather than assimilating it, to quote the Borg. You’re dead. Your entire species is dead. Everyone else you associate with, even those insidious humans, are dead. It’s only a matter of time. As Garak has pointed out seasons earlier, he knows when to cut his losses and that was one hell of a “resistance if futile” speech. If the rest of the quadrant has any hope of survival, now is the time to cut those losses—including Julian. 

Which I actually really love. 

Because it’s true to Garak’s character. He’s a complicated, morally gray guy, just the sort to blow himself and his shop up in the hopes of saving his life. Or justify killing the entirety of one species to ensure the survival of many. As much as we (or at least I) would have loved a dramatic declaration of love, the realization that he can’t target the Founders no matter how necessary it may seem because his Julian would be caught in the crossfire… that’s just not Garak. Just as importantly, it’s not Julian either. See, I think this scene pairs rather well with “Our Man Bashir.” We can come up with the same sort of potential readings for why Julian was willing to shoot someone he—from the shipper’s perspective—is already head over heels in love with: he’s a doctor and had every confidence in his ability to keep Garak alive until they get out of the holosuite. He’s genetically enhanced and has superb aim, knowing he’ll only create a flesh wound. He was really trying to hit the wall and fucked that one up badly whoops, etc. Regardless of those headcanons though, canonically speaking Julian did shoot him and that’s all there is to it. More specifically, he shot Garak to make sure that Sisko, Kira, Worf, O’Brien, and Jadzia survived, a sacrificing the one to save the many situation, much like Garak’s plan. Or, to put it another way: 

Spirk is the ultimate standard for all other Star Trek ships, if not, for many, shipping in general. Lots of fans have already pointed out the similarities between the sickbay hand clasp in Star Trek: The Motion Picture and Julian’s moment of forgiveness in “The Wire,” 

but there’s another parallel between Spock’s iconic sacrifice and the choices made in DS9. “Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few” to which Kirk answers, “Or the one.” This is the same logic that our new duo is abiding by. 

Though a notorious liar, we’re left with nothing else that challenges Garak’s words—he truly seems to believe that the Alpha Quadrant’s safety is worth sacrificing those on the Defiant for. Though a doctor through and through, we’re left with Julian’s steady hand and blood on Garak’s neck—he truly seems to believe that potentially losing one friend is worth assuredly saving five. Neither one is willing to compromise their morals for the other and I personally think that speaks to a healthy amount of respect, both for themselves and each other. In the same way that Garak embraces Julian’s Federation-style optimism and Julian comes to understand that lies are how Garak communicates, they simply and completely accept one another. That includes saying through actions if not words, “I love you, but I’m not going to let that love compromise my core beliefs.” Neither is the type to let love interfere with what they perceive as their duty, but that doesn’t mean the love doesn’t exist. 

Of course, if we follow the spirk parallel, that devotion to the many is later challenged. In The Search for Spock Kirk reverses the logic and justifies his journey with, “Because the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many.” Anyone who reads any of my metas knows that Context Is a Thing and in this case the context for both films is personal sacrifice. Spock chooses to sacrifice himself to save the Enterprise. Kirk and the others choose to risk their lives and their careers to get Spock back. These are markedly different situations from what Julian and Garak shoulder: sacrificing one another for the many. If you love someone, then giving up your life for them is easy. Having that action save a whole bunch of other people along the way? Icing on the cake. You die knowing that you’ve done the heroic deed and your better half lives on. But can you harm your other half to uphold your oath as a doctor? Can you kill them to save millions of others? I’d argue that Julian and Garak have the far more difficult choice and both of them managed to answer, “Yes.” It’s a testament to their characterization and, given their strong ethics, precisely how well they fit together. They know where the other stands, what they mean to one another…and when they can’t afford to prioritize that love over everyone else. 

In the end, neither even knew that their sacrifice would pay off. If Garak had succeeded in gaining control of the Defiant’s weaponry he might have found that the Founders had another trick up their sleeve to ensure their survival, leaving him with a dead Julian and an unharmed foe. Julian doesn’t know if he and Garak will be able to survive the holosuite program—or what might happen to the others if they perish. He might end up losing everyone, himself included. Neither has any assurances when they make their decision and that to me makes it that much more meaningful. They’re both acts of determination and faith. And from a narrative standpoint (with help from a healthy dose of Plot Armor) they’re both rewarded for that faith. Garak isn’t forced to kill Julian. Julian’s shot harmlessly skims Garak’s neck. They made the hard call, lost little, and in the case of “Our Man Bashir,” gained a healthy dose of respect for what the other was capable of. 

I think that’s pretty damn neat. 

Right. Thank you for coming to my decades late TED Talk. Peace ✌️

Image Credit

#1: https://boldly-yo.tumblr.com/post/183708405938

GIF: http://kuma-la-la.tumblr.com/post/36694488334/the-needs-of-the-many-outweigh-the-needs-of

#2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kirk/Spock

#3: https://edosianorchids901.tumblr.com/post/181806580405/garak-and-julian-in-222-the-wire

[built-from-nothing]

See Through My Eyes

Genre: Soulmate AU

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader 

Synopsis: Upon turning twenty-one, you get to experience life through your soulmate's eyes for a brief moment. Today is your birthday, and you can not wait to wake up and see Sam's reflection staring back at you, but when you gaze through the mirror his hazel eyes aren’t the ones staring back at you.

Words: 1718

Warnings: Fluff, and angst.

A/n: Thought it would be cool to do a soulmate AU and switch between Dean’s and Reader’s perspective. Hope you enjoy and would love to hear what you think! 

Your eyelids flutter open from a long night's sleep as your head begins to pound. You knew those last few shots were a bad idea, but why you let Dean talk you into them you'll never know.

The boys had taken you out for drinks last night as a pre-celebratory 21st birthday, full of laughter, booze, and bad karaoke. However, fun that may have been, (you can't quite remember now anyway), your true excitement lies in discovering the identity of your soulmate.

For as long as you can remember, people have told you stories of when they first saw their soulmate. The rush of waking up on their 21st birthday to physically see through the eyes of the one they are meant to be with. To truly solidify the connection of two souls by walking in each other's footsteps, if only for a moment. To have undeniable proof that this person was made for you, and you them.

Ever since meeting Sam you have dreamed of this day, to wake up, see his reflection staring back at you, and know that you have found the one. Butterflies soar through your stomach, the anticipation killing you.

Waking up in the bunker confirmed your suspicion on being Sam's soulmate. You've dated for a few years now, but have been hesitant to take any big steps with your 21st birthday being so close. You wanted to be certain. The day finally here, all doubts are erased from your mind for you can now feel the Winchester on the other end.

Desperately wanting to see him, you sit up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and walk over to the dresser mirror. You smile at the picture of a tall man with long brown locks in your mind's eye and slowly open your lids.

The smile vanishes and your eyes widen at the green-eyed man staring back at you, his sandy blonde hair sticking up at odd angles begging to be fluffed down. Freckles dance across his cheeks contrasting nicely against his morning shadow. Dean grins causing small crinkles to form at the corners of his eyes illuminating his face.

Shock sends you flying back to reality and your eyes burst open to see the familiar room surrounding you. You were back in your room at the bunker. You sit at the foot of the bed and take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

It was a mistake. The 'soul vision' got it wrong. You aren't in love with Dean. You've been best friends for as long as you can remember. Memories of all the good times you and Dean have had the past couple years flash through your mind. The time you drove for hours the night before a hunt looking for a diner and had to settle for convenient store fruit pies. You sat on the hood of the Impala and talked for hours eating pie after pie, never once running out of things to talk about.

Or that time you managed to get tickets to see Metallica a few towns over from where you were hunting. The way his face lit up when Kirk walked on stage and started blasting riffs was priceless. He let you drive Baby for weeks after that concert...

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. What if you really are soul mates with Dean? You've never heard of linking with someone platonically, but the love of a friendship is still love. 'No this is ludacris,' you think. 'You're in love with Sam. You are meant to be with Sam.'

"You are meant to be with Sam," you tell yourself over and over each time becoming less convincing than the last. Not wanting to spiral, you decide to get some coffee in your system before attempting to make sense of all that's happened. You slap your face a few times and make your way to the kitchen.

DEAN'S POV

I wake up and roll out of bed, my head groggy from last night. A smile crosses my lips as the memories of last night come pouring back. (Y/n) went all out last night, not hesitating when I pushed those last few shots. A beautiful girl who can handle her hard liquor, damn is Sam lucky. I shake my head scoffing, and continue to the dresser to get dressed.

It's good Sammy finally found someone. This line of work is brutal and as strong as he may be, it's reassuring to know he has someone to lean on that won't fuck it up. (Y/n) really is a great partner.

I step into my jeans and glance in the mirror as I pull a t-shirt from the drawer. My heart falters at the girl in the mirror, (Y/e/c) eyes staring back at me. I examine every inch of her features committing the image to memory. I reach my hand to the mirror, my fingers tracing the outline of her jaw on the cool glass. I thought for so long this day would never come. The day that I, Dean Winchester linked with my soulmate.

A knock on the door snaps me back to reality, the image of (Y/n) not leaving my mind. I had long ago given up hope of ever finding my soulmate. After years of waiting to see her, I assumed I was one of the unlucky few who never link. Oh, how wrong I was. I sit at the foot of the bed grinning, and pull my shirt on.

"Come in," I rasp. Sam creaks the door open and steps inside, face discouraged. Too engrossed in the feeling of finding my soulmate, the biggest complication slipped my mind. (Y/n) is with Sam. "What's up?" I ask and run a hand down my face pulling any emotion from it.

"Dean, can I ask you something? As someone who hasn't linked?" Sam asks, nervously pulling on the zipper of his jacket, and I hum for him to continue.

"Well with her birthday today and all, I thought-" he sighs and looks up, his eyes full of defeat. "I didn't link with her, Dean."

The image of (Y/n) flies through my mind, warming my heart. I push the feeling down and focus on helping Sam. "It's not a simple thing. There's a lot of different things that factor into it."

"Like what?" he retorts and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Ugh Sammy, I don't know." I place a hand to my temples, frustrated he had to discuss this before coffee. "Maybe you didn't give it enough time yet. Not everyone links first thing after turning 21."

He eyes me skeptically, not pleased with my half-assed answer. I sigh, knowing he won't give up until I tell him the most possible scenario. "Or you're not soulmates."

Sam nods his head curtly as his eyes begin to glisten, the truth more painful than he expected. He thought for sure you were meant to be.

"Food's ready," he chokes out, holding back tears. "I made breakfast to celebrate-" he clears his throat unable to finish the sentence and leaves for the kitchen.

I run a hand down my face, the whole situation harrowing. Not linking with   (Y/n) was hard enough on Sam, the way he scurried out of here looking like a kicked puppy. He can never know I linked with her, that me and (Y/n) are soulmates.

READER POV

You enter the kitchen to find Sam flipping pancakes. You walk up behind him and lace your arms around his middle. "Good morning," you say placing your cheek against his back and inhale deeply taking in his scent. His shoulders tense as he lowers his head.

"Hey," he grumbles and continues with the pancakes. You hesitantly remove your arms and take a seat at the table. Sam plates the cakes and sits down opposite you. "So, did you get a good night's sleep?" Sam questions, his voice on edge as he pours the syrup and takes a bite.

"Yeah, I-" You look away to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks and see Dean enter. He slicked his hair making the small tufts of disarray from earlier no longer visible. You frown slightly having preferred the look of a sleepy Dean in his boxers. Your eyes wander the bow-legged man examining his features as a pulling sensation fills your stomach, drawing you to him.

You remain seated and continue to watch as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, almost as if he can feel it too. You shake your head clearing your mind of such a ridiculous thought, and push the growing desire deep down within you. You are meant to be with Sam.

"I slept well, but didn't link with anyone." You glance at Sam before piling pancakes onto your plate and sheepishly look down as you lather them in syrup. You sneak glimpses of the two brothers as you cut your food trying to gauge their reactions. Sam relaxes his shoulders and leans back in the chair relief flooding through him. Dean's face hardens, his lips sitting in a tight line. 'Could be worse.'

"But it's some stupid old tradition anyway that doesn't even happen to everyone, so." You say and hastily shove pancake into your mouth. Your grandmother's words repeat the old saying in your head.

"Only those whose souls are truly connected-" you mock and look up from your plate, your mouth still full. Your eyes snap to Dean's locking instantly as you both complete the phrase said to you time and time again.

"Can see through each other's eyes." A bolt of electricity rushes through you making your heart skip. You stare fixedly into his bright green orbs, the longing building in your stomach once again as you lose all awareness of your surroundings. The only thing you know for certain being the way you feel right this moment. The desire, the pull, the need to be with Dean.

A hunger arises behind his eyes, turning his adoring, sweet gaze into one of passion and need, the intensity of which leaves you feeling exposed. Embarrassment flooding your cheeks, you unglue your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. "What a load of crap," you scoff and take another bite of the fluffy pancakes.

Part Two

[raysoldblog]

I was tagged by @adhdcaptain-kirk​

rules suggestion: tag ten followers you want to get to know better.

name: Ray

gender: tired i go with cis girl i guess but i’m into neutral pronouns too

star sign: cancer

height: 5′2″ short

age: 19, going 20 this year

sexuality: i like a lot of people??? but there’s not always a pattern

house: i used to be hufflepuff but now i’m ravenclaw?? character development

what image do you have as your wallpaper? on my phone theres a picture of a rock cliff i took near my city. i absolutely adore it. on my laptop they automatically cycle between different ones - mostly plants or cool pictures of objects

have you ever had a crush on a teacher? i wish i could say no, but alas. only platonic crushes tho ofc. i’ve never had a teacher young enough for me to have an actual crush on. i definitely intellectually crushed really hard on my first philosphy teacher. and now me & some girl friends are just fangirls at heart of this uni professor of ours. i swear we started out 100% ironically and yet here we are

where do you see yourself in ten years? restless. feet perpetually aching, yet going. curious, but always satisfying my curiousity. bolder. taking risks. drawing, painting, writing for a living. and learning, learning, learning. i don’t know if still in my home city or anywhere else. but somewhere i surrounded myself with interesting people; burning with passion, living the things i was always content just dreaming. perhaps happy. (and feeling real 100% of the time)

if you could be anywhere else right now, where? at a cafe or on a roadtrip or anywhere else full of life with my big time crush. or in a wood-walled room filled with rugs and pillows, a ray of sunlight shining through the window and warming up the room. or somewhere else entirely from my dreams, i guess. i think i’d like to be dreaming; and i’d love for it to be real.

what was your coolest halloween costume? i haven’t dressed up for halloween since i was a kid!! i guess the coolest costume was this home-made donald duck one. but the one i liked best was this store bought witch costume - all purple except for the black hat. i have some pics of me in it, and they’re some of the only pictures of me as a kid i really like!!! plus, witches rock

what was your favorite 90′s show? i watched too little tv to pick an absolute favourite. i liked a lot of stuff

have you ever been to Las Vegas? i’ve never been to america at all!

favorite pair of shoes? the ones that just broke ;’^( a pair of black camper-like boots with dark red shoelaces... i really do need more than one pair of shoes at a time, though.

favorite book? hands down, the little prince (by antoine de saint-euxpéry). it’s my bible. the one book i read at least once a year and that manages to have me crying. every. time. not a year passes that i don’t find that book had something else to teach me. something new for me to learn. i hope the day never comes that i open that book to find i have nothing more to find there for me.

the stupidest thing you’ve ever done: i have a p bad memory and lived a p ordinary life but i guess i have a pair?? i once had a lock&key pair (the crappy ones that come with children’s diaries, you know?). one day i open the lock, and i notice that the key has this hole... just big enough.... for the upper part of the locket to fit it........ it tooke me some time to realize i had just sealed the lock for good, closing it’s key in it. but it left me quite astonished just how stupid i was. but tbh.... what takes the cake is this. when i was a kid i once just up and went to where my mom was ironing some clothes and just. took the boling hot iron and stamped it right up my dumb ass forehead i’ve had the burn scars for MONTHS and yet i never managed to recall just why did i do that

all time favorite tv shows: i watch very little tv?? i guess the office (US), doctor who, skins. but i’m sure i’m missing something else i really really like

the last movie you saw at the theater: did i mention i have a v bad memory?? i think it was a p bad movie shot in my city (napoli velata), but it could have been the latest star wars. not entirely too sure i tag my main hoes followers in my notes but everyone feel free to do this! and tag me in it! @heatstrokeyellowstrawberryblue @spaceanets @iamtade @there-is-no-romeo @the-mad-march-hare42 @amarandomperson @the-real-havoice @keirs-cool @baking-accident @irulehyrule26

[janeykath318]

Kiss, Marry, Kill: Kirk x Reader

It all started as a joke: someone in the security department had done the Kiss, Marry, Kill, game with certain co workers and it had started to spread, even down to Medbay, where various nurses could be heard debating the merits of Scotty, Uhura, and even Chekov. The Captain ended up overhearing while he was getting patched up one day and you knew you were all doomed. 

"So, Nurse Y/L/N, how am I faring on the lists down here? Did I make it on a lot of people's Kiss list?" "I hate to break it to you, captain," you told him, mirth dancing in your eyes, "you're actually leading in the Kill category. Dr. McCoy in particular was very vocal in his choice." "Of course he would," Kirk sighed, rolling his far too pretty eyes. "I did think some of you liked me better than that." He made a sad puppy face that was next to impossible to resist, especially for you who secretly had it bad for him. "Maybe if you wouldn't be in here so much, we wouldn't be so sick of you, captain," you said mischievously. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know." "So, if I stayed perfectly healthy, you'd respect me more?" He asked, half teasingly. "Possibly," you hinted. "Maybe acting less like a child when you're getting hypos would help too. Just a tip." You winked at him and walked out to get the doctor, leaving Jim staring after you, torn between being insulted and in love. The next few days, the Kiss, Marry, Kill theme seemed to really spread over the ship. In fact, someone in the bridge crew announced there would be a contest for people to submit their Kiss, Marry, Kill choices, (among the single officers) along with written out reasons to be judged by Uhura and Sulu. Those with the best reasoning for their picks would get to have dinner with the officer of their dreams. You rolled your eyes and wondered just how desperate the Captain was to be liked. "No way am I doing this!" You declared. It's  utter childish nonsense!" "Oh, c'mon, Y/N, I thought you'd jump at the chance to go out with that corn-fed menace of a Captain you have a crush on," teased Dr. McCoy, hearing your rant. "Oh, puh-leeze," you snorted. "I don't have a crush on him. Just because I made one comment about his eyes once, does not mean I'm all lovey-dovey, lovestruck over him. Heck, even YOU admit he has gorgeous eyes, and you certainly have no romantic feelings for him." "Oh, there's a very big difference, Y/N. You haven't seen yourself when he comes in here. You're practically bowling over the other nurses to get to him." "I do not," you sulked. "Do I, Christine?" "Well......" she tried to hedge, and you put your hands on your hips, outraged at the lack of support. You pretended to utterly ignore the whole contest, but the endless chatter about Jim vs. Scotty vs. Leonard drove you up the wall, especially the guys in medical who talked about him like he was a piece of meat, ripe for the tasting. You hoped they were all horrible writers. Jim deserved better! At last, you got an idea. It would probably not win the contest, but it would make you feel better. You sat down after shift and started writing. Kiss, Marry, Kill, by Y/N Y/L/N Kiss: James T. Kirk Reason: 1. To shut him up when he drones on and on about the wonders of space 2. Those lips are too perfect 3. My gut tells me he's really good at it. Marry: James T. Kirk Reason: Because I worship the ground he walks on and he might be less of a reckless fool if he had a spouse to remind him how much he has to live for and how loved and needed he is.  I’d love to pick that genius brain. Also: captain's quarters come with real water showers, a big plus. Kill: (Hypothetically, of course) James T. Kirk Reason: He's a aggravation to the nth degree. Examples include: Frequent Injuries, extreme stubbornness, Those ridiculous stupid smiles he gives that could cause dangerous heart arrhythmia, his bluer than blue eyes that cause people to lose their concentration when he looks at them, and the terrible dad jokes he cracks that he thinks are so funny and laughs so hard at. Despite being pleased at managing to refrain from mentioning Jim's other positive attributes (that ass!), you wavered back and forth before you finally sent in your entry. You'd kind of bared your heart, after all. However, Sulu and Uhura were both very good at respecting people's privacy and they wouldn't spill your secrets. Besides, the chances of you winning were very low, if not impossible, given that you'd used the same name for every slot. At last, however, you hit send, and went to bed very relieved. You'd almost forgotten about the whole thing by the time the winners were announced three weeks later and when you got a message declaring "Congratulations, Lieutenant Y/L/N, you were selected as a winner in our shipwide contest. Your entry was chosen as the best among those who put Captain James T. Kirk in the Kiss or Marry options." You stopped reading right then and there and began mentally freaking out. You'd only entered as a joke and a fun way to relieve your feelings. Guess they'd taken you seriously. Could you back out without looking like an idiot? Surely, the runner up would be more than happy to take your place. During lunch the next day, the winners were announced over the intercom by Sulu. You didn't know where to look when your name was read and all your friends turned to stare at you. (Thankfully, McCoy had other things to worry about, since someone had won dinner with him.) "Congratulations, Y/N!" Christine said, a pleased grin on her face. "I'll gladly offer my services to help you get ready for your date with the Captain." Your face felt like it was burning up, more so when you saw Jim Kirk ambling over to your table. "Hi, Captain," you muttered, wishing you could sink through the floor. "Nurse Y/L/N! This is a happy coincidence!" Kirk exclaimed, walking up to you, with that disgustingly contagious smile on his face. "How so?" You managed, even more nervous in his presence. "I've been trying to get up the courage to ask you out anyway." "Me?!!" You squeaked. "Of course you. You do know you're my favorite nurse, right?" "No......" you said slowly, processing this information. Jim liked you? Really? Surely it was too good to be true! "Yes, you are," he said firmly. "So, Are you going to claim your prize?" There went that cheeky expression again. "Insufferable egoist," Len muttered, rolling his eyes. "Of course she is!" Christine said for you. "Name the date, place and time, and she'll be there." While you were spluttering, they determined the dinner would take place in the small observation deck the next Friday at 1900 hours. "Great!" Jim exclaimed, "We'll see you then! Have a nice day, Y/N." "Traitor!" You hissed weakly to Christine, but the butterflies of anticipation dancing in your gut said differently. "Trust me, you'll thank me later. I wouldn't have done this If I didn't think he really cares about you," she told you. She did come through on her promise to help you prepare for the big date, and before you knew it, you were all dolled up in a green dress and cute updo style Christine saw in a magazine and thought would look perfect on you. "There! You look stunning!" She said at last, stepping back and inspecting you carefully. You smiled and gulped. "Let's hope the Captain thinks so, too." "Oh, he will," she assured you. "Now, shoo, have a good time!" More nervous than you'd ever been, you made your way to the agreed upon room, where Jim was waiting for you. Having rarely seen him in anything besides his uniform or a hospital gown, you were taken aback by the sight of him in a blue dress shirt and tie. "Wow!" You breathed. He cleaned up GOOD. "Wow, yourself," Jim returned. "You look amazing." "Thanks," you said, face warm with the compliment. "This was really nice of you to play along, but What if Cupcake had won?" Jim laughed. "I'd still hang out with him, but He's only likely to put me on the Kill list. Trust me, I'm not his type AT ALL." As the two of you devoured the food, which was very tasty, he asked you about what you'd written. "I actually didn't think I'd be considered eligible," you told him, "given how I made cases for why I'd want to kiss, marry, AND kill you. Somehow, it was rather cathartic." "I seem to inspire that reaction a lot," Jim said ruefully, buttering a roll. "Glad you came, though. So, tell me, what's life like working in Bones's domain? I hear he can be a bear at times." "Oh, he can," you confirmed. "You just have to use common sense and know how to placate him. He's a good boss, but he doesn't suffer fools." "That's very true," Jim said. "He's said several times that next to Chapel, you're the best nurse on Alpha shift." "He said that?" You asked, flustered again. "Yes, he did," Jim said. "And I think you're pretty awesome too--both as a nurse and a person." "Wow, You really are a smooth talker," you said, raising an eyebrow. "Let's see if you're still saying that once you've got to know me and my quirks some more." "Does this mean you're willing to go on more dates?" He asked, looking hopeful. "As long as this one ends as well as it started, definitely." "What do you say to this?" He asked, pulling the cover off of a plate containing two lovely slices of chocolate cake with caramel filling peeking out. "Poke cake?" You gasped. The man had done his research--this was your absolute favorite indulgence. The white frosting on top covered the caramel glaze that oozed down through holes poked in the cake and made it deliciously gooey and decadent. "Indeed. Made special by real people: not replicators." Jim looked extremely pleased with himself, eyes darting back and forth between you and the cake. Picking up Jim's hand, you kissed it dramatically. "My hero!" You explained in a staged breathy sigh. "That'll do the trick all right. The shyness disappeared along with the cake and you and Jim ended up laughing and talking and flirting until a late hour. "So, see you again soon?" He asked, when he walked you to your door. "Of course. Hopefully NOT in sickbay, though." You poked him meaningfully in the chest, then leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Jim." "Goodnight, Y/N" he replied staring after you with what Christine would have called "heart eyes."

@whatif-animagineblog @yourtropegirl @kirkaholic123 @southernbellestatues

@kaitymccoy123

[thefanficfaerie]

Jim Kirk Pre-Trek Fest Fics

Here is a list of the Jim Kirk Fics I have collected over the last few months.

@imaginestartrek​

Booby Trapping the Gifts If You Walk Out That Door…  Jim Reminding You, You are Worth it  Jim Having A Teenage Daughter Jim Talking to You About Depression Tear Your Apart Being Pregnant With Jim’s Baby Going into Labor With Jim’s Baby 

@youre-on-a-starship​

Taking Jim on His First Flight  Setting the World on Fire  Dating Jim After An Abusive Relationship Jim Realizing He Loves Treating Jim at Yorktown  Sledgehammer Jim Comforting You When You Are Triggered Imagine Jim Saving You From the Mirror!verse 

@mybullshitsensesaretingling​

Where You Go Next A Happy Reunion  Take Care of You  Secrets

@enterprisewriting​

In the Name of Love  Designated Walker Acquainted No More Big Southern Shadow Prisoner  Loot Baby Blues   Leaving is Hard to Do  Failure to Set-Up  Just Ask Designated Caretaker  Ten Ways to Say I Love You 10 Things I Hate About You

@kaitymccoy123​

First Sign of Trouble  Blankets of Fortitude A Haphazard Approach  Lost Days SOS Hard to Love  

@star-trekkin-across-theuniverse​

The 80s The Bikini Malfunction POTUS AU  Love Letters Winter Blues  The Poker Seduction  Jim Loving You Without Conditions  Angst part 14  Notorious  Here Comes Your Man 

@imamotherfuckingstar-lord​

Imagine thinking Jim was restless The One  Imagine letting Jim nap on you Imagine confronting Jim about his flirting More than You Know  Considering  Wonderment of a Man  A Thousand Times  I’m Good  12 Days to Long 

@captainjimsexypantskirk​

Finding You  So, What Do You Say? Not Without You  Cold Summer Break  I Have an Announcement  How You Fell 

@whatif-animagineblog​

Jim Saving You Flower Boy All I Ask of You  Pancakes  Change of Plans  Alpha Kirk 

@imaginenterprise

Together Snowflakes  I Had Her George

@atari-writes​

May We All  Shape of You I’m Here NSFW

@fandomheadrush​

Jim Takes Care of You  Hacker Kirk

@littlecarowrites​

Trapped Hold My Hand 

@whereno1701hasgonebefore​

I Was Younger Then…  …Take Me Back To When

@girl-next-door-writes​

Something Stupid ​ Double Dare Ya  A Little Comfort

@coyoteimagines​

Sentimental​ Worth It

@imoutofmyvulcanmind​

Date Night Reunited Celebrate Remember  Aftermath 

@auduna-druitt​

What Should Have Been  The Bridge NSFW The Bar NSFW The Catwalk NSFW Shape of You The Brig What Is 

@goodnightwife​

No Rest Searching the Ship Mornings With Him 

@trade-baby-blues​

Cake Seeing Double Roommates Double Trouble  Here Kitty, Kitty Dreams Come True 

@wonders-of-the-enterprise​​

Three Nights  Still Falling For You

@startrekwonderer​

Imagine Cheering Jim up at a Bar ​ Winter Kirk Chronicles Part 1-4  In The Process Of Hurting His Little Girl 

@janeykath318​

Buying the Space Farm ​ Bride on the Bridge ​ Starfleet Matchmaking Jim Kirk

@imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul​

Studying Worry 

@thevalesofanduin​

Birthday Drabble  Despacito

@the-nerdier-the-dirtier​

Worrying for Two  Just Fun  A Time for Everything

@kimmiearrington89

Disobeying Stressful Times 

Misc Authors

Red Alert by @avengersassemble-imagines  Never Giving Up by @fandommaniacx​ Drifting Apart by @dani-fae Unwinding by @spacethewritingfrontier First Star at Night by @trekkimagines201​ Kiss It Better by @fandomly-writings​ Prompt by @lotsoffandomimagines​ Lazy Haze by @musingsongbird​ When Are You Coming Home by @ncc1701-imagines​ Pregnant by @nerdy-izzylightwood Jim Finding Out Your Pregnant by @babe-with-thepower​ The End or The Beginning by @annalisehartmann​ Untitled by @starshipsinthenight​ Meaningless Nothings by @whatsgoingg-on A Great Man by @writeyouin​ Princess of the Stars by @goingknowherewastaken Hidden by @imaginingthefandoms Little Red by @fascinatingfantrash Fated by @flirtswithdanger Just One Dinner by @all-sortsa-stuff Jim the Housemate by @trekficsandbobs   Overcoming Fear by @missannabelle Untitled by @will-you-stop-it​ Not Scared of Anything by @not-your-tardis Mentor by @westcoast-avenger Good Girl by @sansasandorshipper Fated Part 4 by @flirtswithdanger Sunshine and Daisies by @jefferson-in-the-tardis Study Buddy by @trekficsandbobs Soulmates- Words by @mission-enterprise

[impalaanddemons]

Gravity - Part 10

Summary: Reader’s a young security officer (Lieutanent Junior Grade) who happened to be on an away mission and fall hard for a certain Chief Engineer. Both of them aren’t the most outgoing regarding their feelings and tend to just watch each other from a distance, which is going to change.

Wordcount: 1600

A/N: Writing that was hard on a personal level. I still think that the whole scene is important and necessary.

This fiction is set in AOS

Warnings: death, hurt, comfort, burial, fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

„Lieutenant Cassandra Maximoff was, first and foremost, a friend to many of us.“ The words, though chosen with love and spoken while biting back tears, sounded hollow in your ears. You hated saying them, because they felt like a lie to you. Your mouth moved, but your mind was far away. If you concentrated on this speech, you’d break down in front of everyone gathered here. So many had come. You weren’t surprised exactly - burials somehow always attracted all different kinds of people - but it was easy to forget just how popular Cas had been. Your world had revolved around her for such a long time, you had forgotten to notice anymore. It stung. Half of security was there, it seemed. It was a stern faced crowd, eyes focused on you. You saw science blues and commanding yellows here and there. Some faces you knew, others you had seen fleeting by, some were unknown to you. There was Engineer Mihan - the man she had died protecting - and the stony expression of his faced was carved with guilt. His right arm was in a sling and, yes, there was a nurse perching on his shoulder. McCoy had probably insisted. Captain Kirk was there - he turned up at every burial. To your knowledge he’d never missed a burial, not when circumstances allowed it. Being in security, the division with the highest death rate, you’d seen a couple of burials already and were well accustomed to Kirk being there. And next to him was … Monty. He donned his grey uniform jacket with the choker, tight-fitted and accentuating his slender build perfectly. He stood there and the expression in his face was enough to make your heart overflow. With him, you would’ve been able to take on the universe itself.

„When I first met her, we were both in starfleet academy. Same year, but she already seemed capable taking care of everything the world would throw at her.“ Everything but this damn mission. There was not even a fire fight. You had gone in to accompany the engineering team, there was something wrong with the nacelles or whatever it was - it had heated up and they had been to slow and the fucking thing exploded and pierced her leg and scattered an arrangement of metals on and into everyone nearby that would’ve made an metallurgist envious. It was an accident. A stupid freak accident. One moment they’d been smiling and laughing because it was all a piece of cake that didn’t even require you to do real work. Maybe if you were more cautious … maybe you could’ve … no. There were no ifs and buts.

„Lastly, Cas would always believe in her friends. Her last words…“ you stopped and Bancroft and Mihan who’d have been there, just before the explosion, managed to smile and cry at the same time. „Her last words to me where a question. She had asked if I were going to ask a boy out.“ a grin crept on your lips and you felt tears running down your cheeks. A burial was always a last goodbye. Last chance. „She always believed that, even if you contemplated jettisoning yourself out of an airlock, you should never give up on your dreams and hopes. Never letting reality get the best of you. She was the person to strive for the best in not only herself, but everyone around her. And this is something that we should always remember, if only in her honor.“ Silence. You stepped down from the little podium, right into Scottys arms. His hands caressed your arms gently. The rest? The rest was ceremony. Captain Kirk stood up to say a few words about starfleet and the line of duty, but you didn’t listen anymore. „Goodbye, Cas. I’ll try not to make an ass out of myself without you.“ you whispered.

A burial always provided a closure, even if people thought they didn’t need one. It was some sort of a reset button that would allow you to finally ease back into a daily routine. Of course it would never be the same as before - it was the nature of a loss to fundamentally affect your life. Nonetheless you eased back into routine, even if it wasn’t the one you were used to. There were slight changes that would catch you off guard sometimes, but as time passed and shore leave approached it got slowly better. First you started patrolling again, the easiest of all your duties. Patrols on alpha gave you a great opportunity to see and meet people all over. Beta was always busy. Nightshift were the times to ponder on life and coming shore leave. Discussions amongst operation where to take the party to on Yorktown were already heated. There were a couple of clubs that had been suggested by crew members who’d already been to Yorktown, but the debate would surely dominate mess hall for the next couple of days until arrival. You had decided not to interfere, as you would attend day one of the party - but had planned on spending at least some amount of time with your boyfriend. If he wanted to. You hadn’t actually gotten around to ask him for his plans and some of the guys had already been chiding you for it. They were, of course, right.

„Ya know, lass“ Scotty scooted around in his room, while you lay on his bed, stretching and holding a hand-to-hand-combat manual over your head, lazily eyeing the pictures depicted there. „This picture here is complete bullshit, Monty.“ you turned the book around to show him the picture and he raised his eyebrows as he examined the picture. „Looks painful to me.“ you laughed at his answer: „Yeah, but it’s bullshit, if you shove your arm around someones neck like that, it’s completely ineffective. You should just grab his other shoulder with the arm that’s around his neck, you know …“ He cautiously shook his head and smiled at you: „Remind me to never get in a fight with ya.“ The engineer chuckled and you rolled your eyes, throwing the book to the site and looking at him. „What where you saying before?“ A sigh left his lips and he leaned back on his office chair, crossing his arms in front of him. „Ya know, I’ve thought … it’s a bit crazy, I admit it. But maybe … I’ve talked to the Captain and he doesn’t care .. well… he does care of course, but it’s our decision he says, and …“ - „Spill it. You’re babbling worse then I am.“ He cleared his throat. „I thought, maybe, ya’d want to share rooms with me.“ At that you stared at him dumbfounded. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. Not with everything that had happened. And the fact that you were merely a thing for about 2 weeks now. You did spent an awful lot of time at his quarters, though. Well, actually - both of you spent most of your free time here, apart from your excursions around the ship. „I …“ you began, still somewhat wordless. „Not right now, of course, ya’ll keep your quarters and all, but.. maybe after Yorktown .. maybe when ya’re more sure about this, I thought … thought this sounded nice.“ A smile tugged at your lips and at that he came over to the bed and positioned himself over you. „We should .. explore that idea.“ you pondered and lifted your head to steal yourself a kiss. He was so … eager. Everything he did, he really meant. There was no trace of a lie in this man, only earnest fondness. „On another note“, his voice lost an octave or so as he spoke, his right hand leading your wrists one after another over your head and gently keeping them in place. He kissed you once more. „What are you’re plans for Yorktown?“ You would have to talk to him about being sexy and holding important conversations at the same time. Your head felt dizzy and your thinking was not in prime condition. „Well, later in the evening there’ll be the usual operations party. Place still to be determined, as far as I am up to date with the mess hall talk.“ pausing for a second and enjoying the view, you smirked up at him: „But maybe news in the officers mess is different?“ He snorted and his hand left your wrists, simply leaning over you now. „Officers mess is very, very nosy about a certain chief engineer and his suddenly blooming love life.“ You had expected as much. „But!“ he lifted a finger and grinned: „I know for a fact that we’re going to arrive early on Alpha. and I’ve planned a few things besides getting wickedly drunk in the evening, so I hoped you hadn’t planned anything yet?“ Your cheeks flushed with excitement as you shook your head. „As a matter of fact, I haven’t, as I was hoping to ask a certain Engineer with a rekindled love life out. What have you planned?“ „Ha“ he laughed at your question and lifted himself from the bed. „You’ll see.“ „So it’s a surprise?“ „Aye, lass.“ You straightened yourself and wiggled your eyebrows: „Any way to coax you into telling me?“ „Nah, it’s a surprise“ he seemed to enjoy this quite a lot. You nibbled at your lower lip, pondering. „Don’t pull tha’ face, lass. Jus pick somethin’ nice to wear.“ This man never stopped to intrigue you.

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