#my two favorite things: Star Trek and baseball

[trektown]

Take Me Out to the Holosuite my beloved

[purplespacekitty]

Three generations of Sisko men gathered close for a jambalaya dinner in Ben's ancient Bajoran lightship, as illustrated by celebrated science fiction writer, Benny Russell. Russell keeps a souvenir baseball on his desk, signed by the legendary Willie Hawkins. In the corner, Russell stashes the sketch that gave him the inspiration for this family's story: space station Deep Space Nine.

Deep Space Nine is my favorite Trek. It has nuanced, 3-dimensional characters who become part of the show's world over the course of 7 seasons. There are some off plot lines here and there but for the most part, the story seems to write itself. I've written at length on here about how much I love Captain Benjamin Sisko and I'd like to share a project of mine I did for a class (I have so far managed to fit Star Trek into three separate final projects for three separate classes, one of which I already posted about here).

Through the lens of Sisko's character, I wanted to examine Deep Space Nine's portrayal of Black masculinity, fatherhood and Afrofuturism with three episodes (although one's a two-parter): "Homefront" (Part I), "Paradise Lost" (Part II), "Explorers" (which I made a post about here) and "Far Beyond the Stars". Initially, the idea was to focus on Ben's fatherhood to Jake, how from the viewer's side of the screen, the two of them break down numerous racial stereotypes around Black men, an important thing to remember with DS9's debut not being far removed from the end of the Reagan Administration, from which sprung stereotypes of "absent Black fathers" and "welfare queens." As I continued with this project, I found I also wanted to analyze how Sisko's relationship with his own father informs his parenting of Jake and what it means to have three generations of Siskos in one room, on one planet. That was how I got "Explores" and "Homefront" and "Paradise Lost" in there, as I wanted to showcase episodes that focus on these exact dynamics.

"Far Beyond the Stars" offers a window into Earth's history as a commentary on racism within creative circles and the systemic racism that shapes the world we live in today and the world of Deep Space Nine. It not only invites viewers into the life of Benny Russell, a Black science fiction writer from the 1950s, but also invites us to consider the link between the future he envisioned of the life that Sisko leads in the 24th century as a Black spaceship/space station captain, father, son, husband and cook who carries the weight of his ancestors' legacy on his shoulders and the reality Russell himself lives in day by day. "You are the dreamer and the dream" has a whole lot more gravity to it when you recognize it as less of an obvious observation of what we've known and been shown throughout the episode (Avery Brooks plays both Sisko and Russell) and more of a nod to the Black future that Sisko inhabits and that Russell dreams of. As a creation of Benny Russell, Sisko and his family are Afrofuturism in a nutshell, carrying on the cultures, stories and knowledge of their ancestors as they live their lives in a future those ancestors imagined and built. Furthermore, Benny Russell's Deep Space Nine is not only important because it features a Black space station captain but also because it encapsulates a fragment of Russell's drive to write his own stories for himself and his Black readers, to breathe life into his creations, to share his art in the ways that he wants to. To cherish his experiences and ideas and imagination and reality through the creative process of putting pen to paper, stamping ink to page, painting scenes to canvas.

The DS9 finale was originally going to see Benny Russell wistfully wandering the promenade alone and implicate him as the creator of not just the story of Deep Space Nine, but of the Star Trek franchise as a whole. Obviously, this concept did not make the cut, but Strange New Worlds' "Elysium Kingdom" follows another story written by Russell, solidifying him as a real person who lived in the 20th century within the Star Trek universe and who presumably continued to write stories that got published after the events of "Shadows and Symbols".

Comprised of screenshots from "Explorers", "Homefront", "Paradise Lost", "Far Beyond the Stars", "Shadows and Symbols" and "Civil Defense" - in which Dukat flicks Sisko's baseball off his desk - (and also a picture of a random coffee table taken by me because we see surprisingly very little of Benny's desk), the collage above is my humble attempt to honor Benny Russell and his creative vision.

[mylittleredgirl]

For the ship it or not game: Benjamin x Kasidy, please?

(ship asks)

I Ship It

1. What made you ship it?

they literally COULD NOT have written a better love interest for ben sisko, and they put them together so thoughtfully. jake sets them up -- after a build-up where we see jake turning into a young man thinking about his future and really wanting his dad to have someone. i love that she's a freighter captain, a type of person in the ds9 universe who we have never really gotten to know, and essentially a grounding element -- she's a civilian living her own life who is (at first) totally uninvolved in the a-plot. and she knows about baseball!! the sheer joy i felt watching her walk in in her second appearance in "the way of the warrior" and they're already together and falling in love...

i couldn't find a great two shot of them so look at these caps from the "don't get killed" moment in the way of the warrior........ ROMANCEEEE

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

it's such a good relationship!!!! they're mature, open, respectful, demonstrative, sexy... every beat is so potent and it expands into episodes she's not even in. i love her, i love her for him, i love him for her, and i LOVE her relationship with jake. their love stories are both heavy and light ("it's a big step") but there's never a flippancy to their relationship ever. and hooooooly shit. for the cause. i remember my dad showing me the last scene of casablanca like "this is the end scene of all time" but have you seen the last scene of for the cause.

genuinely i think this would be THE undisputed together-on-screen-in-canon star trek relationship of all time if it weren't for the fact that kasidy is a guest star and, while she has a rich implied life and does develop and grow, we never get the full main character treatment with her like we do with riker/troi and paul/hugh (and michael/book because book is also a guest star but he's a driving force of the a-plot of a whole season).

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

i think most people probably agree with me tbh that it's an incredible ship that's electric on-screen and underrepresented in fanworks. i don't know if people agree that the last part of their arc was the weakest part because it was rushed (that engagement scene was so sweet though!! it's your house i want it to be our house!!), and i don't really like unplanned pregnancy as a trope (planned pregnancy? yes please!). like yes, her entire presence in the series has always been to serve his emotional story, but this felt different. until that point, her life between episodes was mostly implied until it intersected with the plot, but it was important to her and believable. in the final chapter it vanished completely, and i can't remember if she ever made that an intentional choice (or, if she did, if that choice was given enough weight).

[cloudemojisworld]

Greetings all, I have no idea what I’m talking about!

I was raised on Star *Wars,* but have recently picked up a fixation on Star *Trek.* 

I’ve seen the first few seasons of Strange New Worlds and all of Lower Decks. 

That is the extent of my knowledge. 

(I do intend to further this knowledge greatly, but this is where I’m at, now.)

I’ve comprised a list of questions, and thoughts, progressing from most genuine to most unhinged. 

Do I expect or demand answers? No! Not at all, you may simply laugh as you wish. 

Enjoy:

•How do stardates work. 

Also can I have a calendar. 

•WHAT is the mirror dimension. (I mean it’s obviously a bizarro alternate universe thing but STILL) 

•I keep hearing about a guy named Bones. I’m pretty sure he’s Scottish. I know nothing about him other than I’m gonna love him

•I’ve yet to decipher if Spock is babygirl or mothering. It’s one of the two 

•How did the Gorn build working spaceships. They’re literally the ravenous dog things from ghostbusters 

•Why are the good guy ships pancakes 

(I don’t know how the warp core works, I imagine it’s that shape for Project Manhattan type reasons, but that’s just a guess)

•What is different about Vulcan blood that makes it green. Jolly rancher coded species 

•I know it’s for a good reason, but I feel like most actual aliens wouldn’t be humanoid. Our bodies are NOT efficient enough for this to be the default

•I’m like 94% sure that Klingons are Japan and Romulans are Russia. I know the original thing was made in the 60s, and given the general adversity those two countries had to USS ships, plastering your fictional advisories with those stereotypes seems like a pretty good way to appeal to US audiences. 

•also Vulcans are house cats 

(Sorce: triangle ears, generally seen as uncaring, can purr.)

[Counterpoint, yet to see a Vulcan intentionally knock a glass off a table]

•Can you guys tell that Spock is my favorite 

•The one and only hard stance I will take is that if Christopher Pike isn’t bisexual then they’re wrong

(Evidence: I mean, look at him. Also straight men aren’t allowed to be that sassy)

•WHAT are sonic showers. 

My thought process is this: 

I know that Sonic means fast because Sonic Waves, and also that hedgehog.  Do they just blast you with sonic sound waves???? I mean I doubt it, but what do I know-

That’d be super loud, though. You’d have to wear hearing protection, but what about the rest of the ship? Do they just have something at a frequency nobody can hear, and the grime just vibrates off of you? 

Wiggle dirt??????

I HIGHLY doubt that’s even close, but I imagine the dramatic irony is worth my foolishness. 

•Is there some alien teen out there making a “21st century earth aesthetic!” tutorial. 

(“Save the planet” baseball cap, with 20’s feather. Marvel tee.  Pettycaot under jean skirt. Knee high tango boots. Facemask.)

[gemini-care-barr]

For Barry and Hal-

What fandoms or franchises do you think they are in or follow? Could be podcast related, Reddit forums they are a part of, movie sequels or trilogies or novels!

Definitely something that should be mentioned more in canon comics so let’s use this as a manifesting moment by detailing it out 🤭

Right off the bat, I have to make it clear to absolutely everyone that Barry is 100% a Trekkie and Hal is most likely a Star Wars fan. And while we’re on the most heated sci-fi debate, I’ll add that once Hal and Barry became friends and Barry learned more about the Green Lantern Corps he undoubtedly introduced Hal to Star Trek and successfully convinced him that it was the superior sci-fi franchise, we stan two Trekkies 😜

Now then, I don’t think Hal would be very into book series or fantasy in general but he’d definitely have a particular interest in the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings trilogy and I think he’d try Game of Thrones and The Witcher because of everyone’s recommendations but would probably not like it very much. He’s the noble-type though and would be pretty easily convinced to read the Lord of the Rings books (including the Hobbit and Silmarillion) because of the nobility of the characters and story. Same reasoning goes for Donita K. Paul’s DragonSpell series. He’d also probably be into the writings of Henry David Thoreau, Ernest Hemingway, and Raymond Carver, not hugely into them necessarily but if he was super bored and he had access to their stuff he’d dig it haha. His favorite poem would also probably be Tennyson’s In Memoriam A.H.H.. I don’t see him being too into podcasts, but he’d definitely like rock bands like Foreigner and AC/DC. He’s also definitely into movies more so than tv shows and would love movies like The Right Stuff, Top Gun, Braveheart, The Patriot, John Wick, most blockbusters classics really, and probably anything with Bruce Lee haha. He’d probably think anime/manga was for nerds until someone pointed out that Dragon Ball Z was, in fact, an anime then he’d realize they can be pretty cool hahaha. And with video games, I’d say he absolutely doesn’t have the patience for long form RPGs but can probably be convinced to play some FPSs with friends like Call of Duty and Halo lol. Basically, this was a long way of saying that Hal is probably more sporty, not in an obsessive fan of sports way, mind you, just that he participated in mostly sports growing up and even as an adult probably prefers hanging out playing baseball with kids (Adams’ GL run has an adorable scene of just that) rather than watching/reading/listening to anything so essentially he’s just not very media-obsessed; he’s a doer! He also probably wouldn’t participate in the fandoms of any of the media he does consume because he cares more about engaging with the media itself rather than about others’ thoughts and feelings on it haha.

Onto Barry, honestly, Barry is kind of tougher for me to figure out purely because I feel like he and I are very similar so I’m inclined to list basically all my favorite things and my thought processes haha, but I’ll try to avoid doing that 😝. So, like I said, Barry is definitely a Trekkie, the Federation’s belief in preserving alien lives and lifestyles plus its dedication to exploration and science all appeals to his inner nerd. He probably loves the shows For All Mankind, The X-Files, and Bones because of their science-y natures (he definitely introduced Hal to For All Mankind and it’s one of the shows they watch together haha). We all know he’s a huge comic book fan (shout-out to Pre-Crisis that had him reading Golden Age Flash comics 😜), but I’ll also add that I think this love of Golden Age Flash, thanks to his mom, would have led to his own love of Greek and Roman mythology once he realized where the idea for Jay Garrick’s helmet and shoes came from! A love of mythology would eventually lead to a love of ancient western philosophy and writings then to Medieval romances like the Arthurian legends and the works of Chaucer. Old English stuff would’ve crept in there too starting with Beowulf. He was an old soul from a young age so all these things would’ve caught his eye on trips to the library and the old-fashioned romantic notions and chivalry has definitely stayed with him. All this appreciation for much older works would then slingshot back around to him loving and appreciating more modern works that took heavy inspiration from all this older literature like The Chronicles of Narnia, The Lord of the Rings, the Percy Jackson series, the Harry Potter series, the Codex Alera, and the Dresden Files, oh and all the detective novels, just all, from Doyle, Christie, Poe, Hammett, etc. then when he found foreign detective fiction he’d go mental and just read them all haha. He’d also probably read the Remo Williams and Jack Reacher book series and convince Hal to do the same! I’d say he’s also into old movies and classic tv shows because they all make him feel good with their sweet morals and happy endings. He’s probably not much of a gamer except for the ones with good stories, he’s too interested in learning new things to just watch someone else play though, if a game’s story interests him then he’s definitely playing it himself. Mass Effect is probably one of his secret favorites. He’s super into podcasts, anything informational and/or scientific, probably conspiratorial and/or true crime stuff, too, if for nothing else than to help him get inspiration on how to approach his own cases, he may even try and solve some cold cases that he hears about (he’d probably stumble across Black Box Down then convince Hal to listen with him haha). He definitely grew up with both the Pokémon TCG and show and was actually aware that it was an anime so is likewise somewhat into other very popular anime/manga like Naruto. Music would be jazz (he’d try and fail to get Hal into it, too, see: New 52 Flash’s Annual #2), 60s rock like the Beatles and the Monkees, and probably 80s pop like the Culture Club, oh and Air Supply (which is also Hal’s guilty pleasure band hehe). He likes sports a lot, both playing and watching, but was still more likely to be found reading/watching/listening to something rather than playing; still, the same way Hal can be convinced to play a video game in order to hangout with friends, Barry can be easily convinced to join in some sporty endeavors if it’ll mean bonding with a friend or loved one. Finally, like Hal, I don’t see him engaging too much with fandoms, he’d probably try when he was younger but wouldn’t find too many people who were into the same things then when he did find people things would devolve into arguments instead of just joy for whatever the thing was so he eventually would resign himself to just enjoying the thing itself, our Barry is a soft boy 🥹. He likes discussion though so once he found people who were his safe space they wouldn’t be able to get him to shut up hahaha.

…I …I can’t believe I wrote this much ahahah 😅. I swear I wasn’t going to get this involved! I was just going to name a few popular franchises that each would be into, but then I started thinking about mediums and how they’d appreciate different ones and then… all this came out lmao 😅😂. I apologize for the long walls of text! Just remember: this is your fault 😜

(Note: forgot to say, Barry would 100% be into Jurassic Park (books and movies) and would convince Hal to read the books (he definitely already watched and loved the movies)!

[pastafossa]

Thanks you so much @teigo-the-explorer for the tag! This makes a good break from work and/or chapter writing!

PART ONE

Are you named after anyone: I am not! Though fam did intentionally choose a name that couldn’t be shortened to a nickname or rhymed with anything.

when was the last time you cried? Yesterday when I was editing a sad section of my TRT outline to make it MORE sad, RIP me and all of you when we hit that point

do you have kids? Nope and I’ve gone so far as to have my tubes incinerated

do you use sarcasm a lot: NEVER

what's the first thing you notice about people? Whether they have a dog. But if you mean on their person, usually if they have a cool shirt! Bodywise: eyes.

what's your eye colour: Blue-green!

scary movies or happy endings: I like them both but if I HAD to choose I’d go happy endings

any special talents: According to my woodcarving teacher, I’m excellent at carving! I managed to carve 5 projects in a week on my first go, including a couple of the more difficult projects he’d set out for more experienced carvers. FINALLY, A VISUAL ART I’M GOOD AT. I’m also really good at just eyeballing a wall and figuring out how a bunch of hung frames will look good without having to draw it out!

where were you born? Los Angeles! It’s one reason I chose it for Ciro and Jane’s history in TRT - it meant I had to do less research since I was familiar with the area. I already knew a lot of landmarks, geography, culture, weather/environment, and speech patterns.

what are your hobbies?: woodcarving, reading, writing, video games, cooking, traveling whenever I can, movies and tv!

have any pets?: I do! 3 cats, 1 dog, and 1 snake!

what sports do you play/have played?: Oh god I tried a lot of them and my skills are... very much elsewhere. When I was a kid I tried soccer (fast but bad at kicking), ballet (teacher told my parents I had a future in the performing arts, just not dance), baseball (can’t hit a ball to save my life). I did have some success with horseback riding though! I did some trail and a little barrel racing for about ten years, and it is by far the most advanced I ever got with a sport.

how tall are you?: 5′5-5′6 depending on my anxiety level

favourite subject in school?: English, I loved English class. 

dream job?: Due to health problems I’m a little limited in what I can do. If I was healthy, zoologist/marine biologist. As I am, author!

PART TWO

first ship: Oh god, uuuuh let me think. Loosely was probably April x Casey in TMNT since that was my favorite movie as a kid. First active ship that I openly rooted for... maybe Rogue and Gambit from X-Men TAS, like damn I was a kid but I WANTED them together SO FUCKING BAD like why is she hooked on fucking Scott (i hated scott) when she has Gambit RIGHT THERE, RIGHT FUCKING THERE GIRL.

three ships: Since most everyone knows my Marvel ships, I’ll step outside it and go with - Troi x Worf (Star Trek: TNG), Cecil x Carlos (most wholesome ship ever courtesy Welcome to Nightvale), and Leslie Knope x Ben Wyatt (Parks and Recreation)

last (current) song: Flu Game by Fall Out Boy not me playing this album on loop since it came out last week

last movie: San Andreas, don’t judge me

currently reading: Re-reading Taggerung by Brian Jacques, which is my favorite Redwall book and the first Redwall book I ever picked up! I was at a book fair and came around a corner and saw this FUCKING BADASS PIRATE OTTER??? WITH A KNIFE??? AND TATTOOS AND PIERCINGS, IT WAS SO COOL I PICKED IT UP WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE SUMMARY CAUSE WHO CARES, PIRATE OTTER PIRATE OTTER TINY PASTA WANTS TO READ ABOUT PIRATE OTTERSSSSSSSS SERIOUSLY LOOK AT THIS COVER AND TELL ME YOU WOULDN’T READ THIS

currently watching: The Mandalorian, shiny space husband make brain go brrrrrr

currently consuming: Just water LOL 

currently craving: SUNSHINE BUT IT IS CLOUDY

__________

I'm tagging

@wonderlandmind4 @shadeblade16​ @intricate-melody​ @softasawhisper​ and anyone else who wants to do this!

_________

[starset21]

Hold on to her |Ace Hardy|

Hey look at that, I wrote something! I'm having a go at righting some CW's Nancy Drew fanfic so this is the first drabble that truly jumped out at me.

“Mm. Look at that,” Remi pointed at Ace’s computer. “Mystery face in the window?” He asked and she nodded. “On it,” Ace types away on his computer. “You okay, Grant?” Nancy asks. “I just can't believe I've been lied to my whole life,” Grant looked down at his feet. “Yeah. You're going to get through it, even though I'm sure it feels like you don't know who or what to believe anymore,” Nancy told him and Remi nodded. “That's got to be Daniel West, do you recognize him?” Ace asks Grant. “No. But if I could redirect us back to figuring out what Red Gate means,” Grant said. “Oh, it's a farm. It shut down after I uncovered this nature cult when I was in the tenth grade. It was renamed, so that's why you couldn't find it. I know where it is, though. It had a fallout shelter there,” Nancy told them. “That could be where your mom buried that valuable thing!” Ace exclaimed. “Uh, the tunnels were unstable even back then. So we're gonna need some pretty serious equipment,” Nancy tells him. “I got the equipment,” Ace raised his hand. 

“Okay. Um, I'll send you guys a PIN. Meet there in an hour?” Nancy asked and the other three nodded. “Watch your step,” Remi warned as they headed underground. “I got one. Star Wars or Star Trek?” Ace asked Grant. “Is this a thing with you guys?” Nancy asked and Remi nodded. “In what possible scenario would you ever have to choose?” Grant asked. “I think you're missing the point of the exercise, I'm just... trying to see what your favorite color is. You know what I mean?” Ace asks him. “It should be in this section of the tunnel if I remember correctly,” Nancy leads them on. Remi moved her flashlight along the wall and spotted a black box jammed into it. “I got something,” she told them. They pulled the box out but Grant bumped into one of the pillars. Creaking sounded around them and Remi didn't like it one bit. “Looks like an old gaming device. Why would my mom hide a toy?” Grant asked, handing Nancy the device. The creaking intensified, accompanied by snapping. “Ace, run!” Nancy yelled and with a split-second decision Remi pushed Nancy forward as the pillars came down in front of her and Grant, blocking them from the others. 

“Hey. Are you guys okay?” Nancy yelled. “We're trapped!” Remi yelled back from the ground where she had fallen. “Um... Is trapped okay?!” Ace asked. “Define "okay",” Remi yelled as Grant helped her to her feet. “Go get help!” she added. “We’re not leaving without you guys!” Ace and Nancy yelled back. “Okay, we need to secure the other beams so that they don't fall. What do you have in your backpack?” Nancy asks Ace. “Four rock climbing cams, a baseball net, a whistle…” he lists. “Push the baseball net and, uh, two of the climbing cams through,” Remi told him. “We can use this tire jack I brought to help secure the beams,” Grant told her and she nodded as Nancy passed the net through the small gap to Remi. “Grant, here. Take this one… up there,” she handed him the net. “Okay, attach the cams to the rocks above your head about shoulder-width apart, and then hook the net onto the cam,” Nancy told Ace on the other side. “Here's the jack,” Grant passed it to Remi who set it up. Creaking sounded around them again. “You should go first,” Remi told Grant. “No, no, you should,” Grant protested. “Grant, it’ll be fine, go, I’ll be right behind you,” Remi told him. “Coming through,” he told them. More Creaking and cracking sounded around them. “Those beams are gonna break, you guys should go on without me,” Remi’s voice trembled a little. “Remi, listen to me. You have faced much worse than this. We aren’t leaving you behind. You are one of the bravest people that I know, you can do this, Okay? Just trust me,” Ace tells her. Remi nodded, took a deep breath, and began crawling through the small gap. It creaked and groaned. She threw her hand out in front of her and Ace gripped it tightly, pulling her out the rest of the way just as their little tunnel collapsed. Ace held Remi in his arms as she tried her best to calm her racing heart. He squeezed her once more before standing and then helping her up, brushing some of the dirt off her pants. “Which Ninja Turtle are you?” Ace asks his brother and both Nancy and Remi groan. 

“Oh, my God, Ace, what happened? Did you get waylaid by funnel cakes or something?” Nancy asked, putting her phone on speaker. “Ace is busy.” Nancy’s eyes widened. “Let me guess. Daniel West. He doesn't have what you want,” she tells him. “But you do. And Ace is my guarantee that you're gonna hand it over without involving the police, marshals, or anyone else. There's an abandoned paper mill outside town. Meet me there in 30 minutes. Bring the list,” Daniel ordered before hanging up. “We need help. I have to get my father,” Grant spoke up. “No. No, Tom is a cop and a former U.S. marshal. Daniel West is a professional killer. We are not risking Ace's life,” Remi tells him. “No. We have to do something. I can't lose my mom and my brother,” Grant stressed. “We're not losing anyone. We just need to get somebody that doesn't play by the rules,” Nancy clenched her jaw before walking away. Remi offered Grant a small smile before running after Nancy. 

“Oh, my God,” Remi murmured as they walked up the steps to see Ace tied up and narrowly hanging over the ledge by a rope. “Ace! It's here! We brought it! Let him go!” Nancy yelled. “Not until I get that list of names,” Daniel told them. “More people are gonna die. I can give you this, but first I think you should consider if it's gonna get you what you really want.” Daniel let the rope slip a little, causing Ace to dangle more precariously. “I've considered. Now hand it over,” he told them. “I'm sure life in WITSEC was no picnic, right? You went from being a highly-paid hit man to, what… working a minimum-wage job at the graveyard shift wherever they assigned you?” Nancy goaded. “Why are you still talking to him?” Grant asks stepping closer. “That's close enough. I'm not leaving here without those names. That's my way to The Road Back,” Daniel tells them. “The road back to what?” Remi asks. “That's a funny question. All along, I thought you knew,” Daniel laughed. “What's The Road Back? Does it have something to do with the Holt Group?” Nancy asked. “You really have no idea who you're up against. The Holt Group is just a front, a part of something much larger. Your mother… she knew that. That's why she turned in the state's evidence and went into WITSEC. She might have ended Holt, but no person ever ends The Road Back. They want the list of people who secretly fed her information. When I give it to them, The Road Back will owe me. And then I'll have so much more than just my life back. Now… do you want your friend to die or not?” Daniel asked. “Nancy, Remi, please don't do it. I don't want to be responsible for the murder of all those people on the list,” Ace tells them. Nancy looks at her two companions. Remi shakes her head as Grant pleads, “Nancy.” Nancy hands it to the man and he lets the rope go. Remi, Nancy, and Grant surge forward grabbing onto Ace tightly. 

“Huh. You even cracked your mom's code. She's a very smart woman. The only dumb thing she ever did was trust me,” Daniel told Grant as the friends tried to catch their breath. The man walks away and the three work quickly to untie and help Ace back to safety. They can hear an engine start. “Are you okay?” Remi asks Ace as they lean against the railing. “You guys gave him the list.” Ace frowned. “He won't have them for long. Nancy and I asked Celia for help. She sent somebody to follow him and get the list back. And she promised us she wouldn't spill any blood or anything,” she told him. “You believed her?” Remi nodded, thinking back to her conversation. “I had to. I couldn't lose you.” Ace looked at her, so many emotions swirling in his eyes. 

“We can do a deep dive into why Back in Black is the best album ever made,” Ace nudged Grant later that evening. “Actually, I just got a text from the Marshals Service. The guy Daniel West had working for him has been arrested. My mom's safe, but… we're being relocated,” Grant told him. “Yeah. Of course, that's the right decision,” Ace nodded solemnly. “So you'll miss me?” Grant asked. “No. Don't be ridiculous,” Ace looked away from his brother. “At least I have a little brother now. Even if he thinks fryer grease is a food group,” Grant teases with a smile and a laugh. “Fryer grease powers cars. What does salad power? - Nothing,” Ace counters as they hug. “Hold onto her, Ace.” Ace stepped back. “What do you mean? Hold onto who?” he asks, confused. Grant simply gave him a look. “You know who.” 

[jimothystu]

15 Questions Tag

Thank you @xhekovsky for the tag!!

Were you named after anybody? My parents picked my first name after Guinevere (the Arthurian character). Jennifer is the modern day version of it. They picked my middle name because of a Star Trek character lol.

When was the last time you cried? Couple days ago I think? I'm rewatching When Calls the Heart and it literally never fails to make me cry (in a good way).

Do you have kids? No, but I have a goddaughter, and my neighbour called me her "other co-parent" to her two kids which made me feel all soft and gooey inside bc I love her kids to death (I nannied her youngest a couple years ago and babysit/care for them pretty regularly now).

Do you use sarcasm a lot? (Stealing Leaf's response bc basically same) "the natural tone and cadence of my voice comes of fairly sarcastic to people". I do also use sarcasm, though but yeah, sometimes people can't tell if I'm being sarcastic or not lol.

What sports do you play/have you played? I didn't really do any sports unless you count dance, which I did for about five years when I was a kid.

What's the first thing you notice about someone? It depends on the person. I don't have just one thing I notice because different people have different defining features.

Eye color? Blue-grey.

Scary movies or happy endings? This question annoys me because those two are not comparable lmao. Like. Scary movies are a genre, whereas happy endings are an aspect of a movie and could appear in all kinds of movies.

Any special talents? Picking up on tiny details that literally nobody else notices or cares about lol. Especially when I'm watching a movie or show or reading! Partly this is because I'm seeing the world as a writer, picking up on minute details in other forms of media that I could incorporate or leave out of my own work. It annoys my parents though when I point out every tiny thing when we're watching stuff lol.

Where were you born? Nova Scotia, Canada (east coast).

What are your hobbies? Writing, reading, painting, drawing, singing, playing the ukulele, watching baseball and hockey, knitting, crocheting, cross-stitching, gardening, playing Minecraft.

Do you have pets? Yesss. A senior beagle named Cookie!

How tall are you? 5'5"ish?

Favorite subjects in school? In junior high and high school it was science (mainly biology and chemistry) because I was good at it and my whole family are science people so I felt like I had to like it. In university though, it's been social sciences subjects like anthropology and geography, and humanities courses like religion and English.

Dream job? An English teacher and an author! I'm working towards applying for a BEd for the fall of 2024, and have several novels in the works, so fingers crossed!!

I think some people have done this already, but tagging @wonderlandsandi @frostysfrenzy @introvertedperson16 @joshua-roy and @canadian-as-puck <3

[for-the-mk-fanworks]

One of the great parts of the Lemire run is all the little details, and one of the most detail filled parts is Issue Ten, which has Marc’s childhood bedroom, with

So

Many

DETAILS!

Just to start it off, I’m throwing in this image of Kid Marc, just to preface the amount of sci-fi in his room. This is a tiny space nerd

His door has a sticker for the Chicago Bulls, which is a basketball team. I’m clarifying because people not in the US might not know that, or if you don’t really care that much about sports. I’m the latter. Anyways, he also has a Darth Vader sticker. Like I said. Tiny sci-fi nerd. Into the main shot of his bedroom

He’s got an A-Team Poster (it’s about special forces in the Military, that eventually go rogue. Sound familar?)

He’s got a Max Headroom poster, who was a British, stuttering, “computer generated TV host” (it was just some guy in prosthetics over a blue screen with really harsh lighting)

He’s got the Starship Enterprise!!! And what looks like an X-Wing. So he’s not just a Star Wars fans, he also likes Star Trek

He has a telescope that’s really close to the “camera”,front and center, adding onto the space nerd aspect

More sports teams, the Chicago Fire and the Chicago Bears (Soccer and Football teams respectively). MCU!Marc has a poster from of these teams. I don’t remember which, or it might have been a Chicago Cubs hat (baseball)

Speaking of sports again, he’s got two baseball bats next to his bed, and my favorite part

MARC SPECTOR. HAD A RACECAR BED. YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT’S NOT ADORABLE

I think this might be another baseball bat next to it, but that’s definitely a football. So a surprisingly athletic space nerd. Good for him

He’s also got four awards in his room. Good for him

And of course Another darth vader

It took me for ever to figure out what any of the stickers meant, but I finally got one of them. It’s a sticker for a cartoon called MASK, which is this thing

Look it up on Wikipedia. Make of that whatever you want. But it is an incredibly 80’s cartoon. And last but not least

A plushie of Alf the Alien Life Form from the sitcom of the same name, and an Indiana Jones poster. That poster is right next to a text bubble of Marc talking about his new friend

His new friend “Steven”. The way the scene is set up might have inspired MCU!Steven to be from “Tomb Buster”

The takeaway (minus that the Lemire run is incredible and has so many GORGEOUS DETAILS that you might notice something new with every read?)

Marc as a kid had a lot of varied interests, was surprisingly athletic, but also was a massive space nerd, Star Trek and Star Wars and Alf and wearing his NASA t-shirt and HIS TELESCOPE!!

Which makes it all the more ironic that he winds up with the god of the Moon.

So if you’re looking to write a fic with Marc as a kid, or just want to know about what some of his interests were, I hope this helps!

[elareine]

If you could, can you please write JayTim or RoyTim (whichever one you want) trying to be romantic and woo Tim (maybe with some puns, I love puns), but Tim is a bit oblivious towards it, because the other is so cool, therefore they must be trying to make friends and be nice with him and nothing more. So when he does finally realize its an italicized "Oh" moment.

Hi lovely!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this fill. I... ended up making it JayRoyTim, I hope that's okay? It just fit so well, but I can totally write something else with JayTim or RoyTim for you if you want :)

Also, it turned out to be about pick-up lines more than wooing, sorry. I might’ve gone overboard with googling the puns. It's long enough that I put it on ao3, too. What's your username on there? Then I'll gift it to you.

if you were a transformer (you’d be optimus fine)

“Well, here I am.”

Tim looks up, utterly confused. “I didn’t call for you, but… that’s… great?”

Roy waggles his eyebrows. It looks faintly disturbing. Redheads should maybe not do that. Or, actually, Tim revises mentally, thinking of literally every other redhead Dick ever dated—that’s just Roy. “What are your other two wishes?”

“Coffee and some silence to finish working this case?”

Roy looks weirdly deflated at that, but he does get him some coffee. Tim soon forgets about it.

—

(“How’d it go?”

“Does obliviousness run in the family?”

“Yes. Yes it does. Have you met Bruce?”

“…okay, fair. Your turn next.”)

—

“Jason? What’re you doing here?”

Sure, Jason and Roy have been spending a lot more time in Gotham lately. Something to do with a case, Tim assumes. Maybe even with the one that they worked on together in Star City five months ago?

Anyway. They’ve been around, is what Tim is saying. Not at the manor, but at Tim’s apartment and his workspace, cause apparently it’s not worth rebuilding their safe house after it went up in flames, and Bruce and Damian are too often at Dick’s place. He’s not exactly surprised to see either of them anymore. (Pleased, yes. But not surprised.) However, Tim has no fucking clue why Jason is currently grinning at him from the other side of the library desk.

At least Tim has the good sense to check his name tag before he gasps: “Jason?”

“Oh, hey, Tim.” Jason’s grinning. “Guess you figured out my new job, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim shakes his head. “Color me surprised.” So this is what Jason’s spending his days doing. He’s gotta be shadowing someone, right? Tim’ll ask him tonight.

“I’ve always liked this place.” Jason’s gaze is far away for a moment. Tim badly wants to know what he’s remembering. Then the older man seems to come back to himself and gives Tim a weird—maybe angry?—look. “It’s a good thing I’m a librarian, too, cause I’m totally checking you out.”

“Alright, I can take a hint.” Tim grabs his book and demonstratively walks over to the self-service scanners. Really. How rude.

—

(“Are you telling me he managed to resist you in your cardigan?”

“Apparently.”

“Aww. C’mere, babe.”)

—

So Roy blows things up all the time. No, really, Tim now totally understands why Dick was so happy when he heard the duo is camping out at Tim’s place for a change. His older brother even gave Tim a thumbs-up, for God’s sake. He must’ve known.

Cause yeah, there’s at least one explosion every two days. Or Roy dropping something cause he’s too focused on what he’s thinking to remember what his hands are doing. Or something dropping on him. Jason seems used to it; he just catches whatever it is or laughs at Roy. Tim… is starting to learn to do the same, actually. Whatever Roy comes up with at that moment is usually worth it, and besides, he’s kinda adorable.

Aaaaaaanyway. (He’s using that word a lot in his own thoughts right now. Almost as if he’s avoiding thinking about something. Hmm.) Tim’s not surprised when Roy walks into a room, stumbles, and slaps a hand over his eyes with a dramatic exclamation.

Tim, in shorts and not much else cause he got drenched in pollen earlier, just raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Roy?”

“Nope.” Roy’s hand is still covering his face, but Tim can still see his grin underneath. “I’m gonna need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Roy. You have both of these things,” Tim explains slowly, wondering if Roy sustained a brain injury or accidentally dosed himself on something. “And why insurance?”

“I was blinded by your beauty.”

God. Sometimes Tim wonders about the original Titans and their socialization for the two dudes if this is how they think making friends works. Then again, Kori, Donna, and Dick probably appreciated constant compliments about their beauty. It all makes sense. Roy must be so used to it that he even uses those same methods when someone unexceptional like Tim is around.

He smiles gamely. “I’m looking forward to hearing that phone call. Must be almost as great as the time Bruce tried to convince his insurance company that Clark dropping on his car wasn’t an act of God because God is demonstrably not a Kryptonian. Neither was the giant ape punching Clark out.”

Roy drops his hand at that. “…Batman did what?”

—

(“You were doing so well, too.”

“I knoooow. How much more obvious can we get?”

“I dunno, but I intend to try.”)

—

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!”

“Haha. No. Star Trek or die.” Tim’s answer is automatic. He’s had these discussions soooo many times with Kon before. Of course Jason also goes for the space cowboy soap opera.

Besides, Jason’s boyfriend is standing right next to him. He doesn’t mean to sound flirtatious with Tim. Or maybe he does, and it’s just good fun? Or maybe teasing him? Tim can’t figure it out, but he knows he doesn’t like the weird hollow feeling he gets in his stomach when he thinks about it, so he changes the topic.

And makes both of them sit down to watch some classic Captain Kirk, of course.

—

(“Should I be insulted by that pick up line?”

“Nah. There aren’t that many lines that imply a polycule, though.”

A kiss. “Alright.”)

—

One of the things Jason and Tim have in common is their predilection for motorbikes and fiddling around with them. Not that makes them unique in the batclan; Tim has never spent days quietly working side-by-side with Dick, though, the way he does with Jason. They started out with separate projects. Then Jason saw this vintage Ducati at an abandoned warehouse he was about to blow up and, well… Would be a shame, right? Tim just happens to have had one of these before—regrettably lost to one of Harley’s exploding baseball bats—so he offers his expertise.

It’s not because it means bending over the engine with Jason, closer than they ever are, their hands brushing when they hand each other instruments. It’s not.

Roy doesn’t join them. He’s too polite to say so, but he finds normal cars and bikes boring af. Doesn’t stop him from popping his head into the garage and whistling when he sees that they are shirtless and covered in grease. It’s a damn good look on Jason, so Tim can’t fault him for that.

Roy follows it up with a: “Are you a parking ticket? Cause you got fine written all over you.”

Tim can’t help it; he blushes at the suggestive tone. Those two never stop flirting with each other, do they? So far, he has managed to avoid stumbling over them while they’re making out (not that they’re making that easy—the kitchen? Really?), and he’d like to keep avoiding that, thank you very much. He’s already feeling guilty enough for his fantasies as it is.

“Uh. I should clean up,” he mumbles and flees.

—

(“Dammit.”

“…do you think that was a rejection?”

“Nah. He was definitely checking me out before you came and fucked it up.”

“That’s saying something if you noticed it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

—

So Tim has magically acquired cat ears and a very fluffy tail. Don’t ask. They’re gonna go away in eight hours, and until then, he’s gonna stay in the cave and work himself to distraction. Jason seems intent on keeping him company, though.

(It’s nice. Tim loves hanging out with Jason—that’s not the problem. The issue is that Tim is looking ridiculous, and Jason is being nice about it, and none of this is helping his stupid crush go away.)

They’re absently chatting about nothing until Jason says: “Kinda a pity you’re a cat, though.”

Tim looks up. Huh? Admittedly, he never pegged Jason as the type to go for catboys (though maybe… he did hang out with Kyle… perhaps it’s just that he definitely doesn’t go for Tims), but that’s still a weird pronouncement.

Jason is grinning. “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.” He pauses. “Wait. Like even more than you already are. Uh.”

Tim sighs. Great. And now Jason is making fun of him again. “Whatever.”

—

(“A chicken?”

“Shut up. I panicked.” A sigh. “He was so cute with these ears.”

“…yeah, he was.”)

—

“You must be tired. You’ve been running through my mind all night.”

“I’m not tired,” Tim says automatically. Why does everyone keep asking him that tonight? Surely the shadows under his eyes can’t be that bad? He used concealer!

Something in Roy’s expression softens. “Aww. C’mere.” He pats the space on the couch next to him, and when Tim sits down, Roy pulls him half of on top of him and into a hug. “Relax for a bit, little bird.”

Tim sinks into the embrace, boneless all of a sudden. Roy just has that effect on him. Tim vaguely remembers thinking of him as his oldest brother’s cool friend and then Jason’s cool boyfriend, kind of a fuckboy but clearly good for Jay.

Now? Now, Roy just makes him feel safe.

—

(“So you spent the night on the couch just so he could sleep in your arms?”

“Yeah. Totally worth it.”

“Duh.”

“I just wish we could do that with him every night. Bet he fits perfectly between us.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“We might have to up the ante or switch tactics.”)

—

They’re talking about their favorite books—Tim doesn’t read as much as Jason does, but they discovered a shared love of sci-fi weeks ago—when Tim says: “Actually, that book kinda reminds me of you.”

“Oh?”

“Overly dramatic but good.”

Jason makes an offended noise, and Tim grins.

“I’m not sure which part I should argue about first.” Jason pretends to think.

Tim is always down to tell Jason that fuck his self-perception—Jason is a good man, one of the best Tim knows; that also feels too revealing right now. Instead, he gets up from their comfortable position on the couch and grabs the first stack on the table, carrying them over to the shelves to replace the gaps. “What kind of book would I be?”

“Babe, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

“Annoying and no one reads it?” Tim asks without turning around, trying to ignore the babe. That’s. That’s gotta be a slip of the tongue, right? Force of habit from spending so much time with Roy?

“No, fine,” and the emphasis is clear this time. Jason continues before Tim can reply: “Though if we’re talking books…”

Tim whirls around. “Save it. You don’t have to make fun of me just because I—“He swallows down the words.

Jason looks alarmed. “Tim—“

As if he can smell trouble, Roy chooses that moment to enter the room. Tim has barely heard him approach, Jesus. He doesn’t want to have this argument in front of Roy, though, so he just stands there in the middle of the room. Jason, too, has stopped speaking.

Roy, of course, takes one look at the awkwardness and decides to make it worse. Or more confusing.

“Did you just come out of the oven?” he asks.

“As this isn’t Hansel and Gretel, no, I didn’t.” Tim checks his shirt, just in case this is an actual conversation opener and not just a weird attempt at a distraction. “Do I have soot on me?”

“Nope.” Roy shakes his head, and he’s smiling that smile again, the one Tim is startled to recognize, the one he thought is reserved only for Jason— “Because you’re hot.”

And finally, Tim gets it. “Me?”

“Yes, Tim.” Roy’s moving in closer. “You.”

There’s a soft touch to Tim’s shoulder, and Tim whirls around, expecting Jason to be mad, cause his boyfriend is—is hitting on Tim, right, that’s what’s happening, Jason can’t be happy—

Jason is smiling down at him. His hand is still resting on Tim’s shoulder, but it slides down to his collar bone, a gentle presence as he murmurs: “You’re so beautiful that you made forget my pick up line.”

Oh. Oh.

Tim says the first thing he can think of: “Are you a raisin?”

Jason starts grinning. “I’m not even gonna qualify that with an answer.”

Tim smiles back. “Cause you’re raising my hopes for a kiss right about now.”

And he gets one. And then another, and then Roy joins in, kissing Tim’s neck and then his mouth and—Yeah.

They’re too busy for any more pick up lines right now.

[heresathreebee]

Wearing THAT

[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]

Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next

Word count: 3.1k words (no beta) 

Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching

AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head

This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…

You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him. 

Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.” 

“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.” 

You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.” 

“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.” 

“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky). 

You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.” 

“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!” 

“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco. 

Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you. 

He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself. 

Or maybe not. 

“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes. 

“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.” 

“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?” 

The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high. 

“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?” 

“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.” 

“I would never!” 

“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs. 

Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it. 

“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.” 

Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly… 

“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever. 

“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!” 

~

Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge. 

“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”

Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.” 

“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–” 

“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now. 

Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there. 

Ok, something is definitely up with you. 

Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before. 

Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now. 

You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?” 

You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside. 

“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”

Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit… 

 “Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”

Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–  

~

After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore. 

Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless. 

You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?” 

“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?” 

You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him! 

Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?” 

“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.” 

Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly… 

“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?” 

Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet… 

“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.” 

Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek. 

“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…” 

You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?” 

Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?” 

You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.

Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it. 

"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed." 

You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?" 

"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight." 

He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room." 

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets." 

There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.

Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top. 

Oh…

This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?” 

You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now." 

Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that." 

One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow. 

"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly. 

Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” 

“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?” 

“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.” 

“Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.” 

The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.” 

… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?” 

“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.” 

Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse. 

You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast. 

“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.” 

Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…” 

“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”

AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

[ianthomasmalone]

Wanted to share some musings on baseball and LGBTQ life as we head into the dog days of Pride Month.

One of my favorite things to do at ballparks is to make new friends. Baseball fans know all too well that our love for America's pastime is not shared by everyone in the country. Where some see a boring game where nothing happens, we take pleasure in the long haul knowing that those special moments where something truly amazing happens are the memories we'll keep with us long after we've left the park.

I met a heterosexual couple last night who semi-playfully bickered for much of the game, rooting for opposing teams. I couldn't help but laugh at some of the ways the woman was berating her boyfriend, quickly befriending them as I explained some of the statistics and more complex aspects of the game. The woman frequently referred to me as a "badass b**ch" as we talked baseball, boys, and life. A few times she told her boyfriend to stop pretending that he knew what was going on and that he should "listen to the lady who knows what she's talking about, you might learn something." I very much enjoyed chatting with them, though they were both pretty sloshed.

It dawned on me as I was leaving the stadium that in the three hours that I was in the proximity of these two colorful characters, being trans was never brought up once, though we did introduce ourselves and hug goodbye after the game. That invisible barrier of "other" that many of us know all too well, wasn't there in Angel Stadium. 

Now, that's hardly a big revelation coming from someone like me, who's been out of the closet for a long time and live in big gay California, but the level with which I'm steeped in trans culture doesn't present too many extended periods of time where the subject doesn't surface in one way or another.

My own idea of community extends well beyond the LGBTQ space, from Long Beach to Boston College to baseball to nerdier subjects like Star Trek, Thomas the Tank Engine, or Big Brother. We have a community right here, bound by humor and a passion to find the good in life.

I'm reminded of James Earl Jones' iconic speech at the end of Field of Dreams, guaranteed to bring out the waterworks. "People will come, Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway, not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past."

I went to Angel Stadium to see Shohei Ohtani pitch, but my motives may have been a bit simpler. I just wanted to be there, on a summer night, watching the best game in the world.

Equality is vital for countless important reasons, but sometimes I like to think about the more trivial benefits of a life without the burden of "other," like embracing a stranger in a hug after the home team scores, not needing to worry about what they think about you as a trans person or a homosexual. It's a great feeling to let go of the angst that we all can carry with us, trans or otherwise, and open yourself up to what the world has to offer. 

TL:DR baseball is good for the soul.

[jimkirks-littlesister]

Trouble

Part Ten

Words: 2268

Pairing: Leonard McCoy/Fem!OC

Characters: Jordan Kirk (OC), Leonard McCoy, Christin Chapel, mentions of Jim

Star Trek AOS; Academy Era; Third-year

“Don’t be evasive Jojo. Not once has he taken his eyes off of you.” Christine clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “It’s almost like he’s ready to pounce the moment he sees you walking away. Besides, it’s the same lewd stare he’s always giving you since you started working together at the hospital.”

Warnings: swearing, bickering, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, minor mentions of sex (more will be added as this progresses)

Disclaimer: Don’t own Star Trek… (wish I did)

A/N: I took my time with this because I did a lot of research. I’m actually a closet grease monkey and work in healthcare, so I relate a little to this chapter. Enjoy!

——

Leonard was confused, standing outside an old scrap yard early in the morning on his free day. Jordan had sent him a comm the night before, wanting to spend the day with him, and requested that he dressed light and comfortable, something that he would not regret wearing if he dirtied it, and he assumed that they would go to the beach, or maybe the nearby national forest. Spending any time with her had become his favorite pastime, and to his knowledge, this all-day event would be their fourth date.

A scrap yard was definitely not what he had in mind.

Jordan stood next to him, grinning from ear to ear, setting a duffel bag on the ground with a loud thud after tipping the hovercab driver. She wore a pair of worn out overalls with a bright pink tank top underneath along with a beat up University of Iowa baseball cap, and a pair of extremely old converse shoes that looked like they’d seen better days, something he would never picture her wearing. He had the urge to touch her bare arms and sneak his nose into the nape of her neck, but given the circumstances he was currently in, he decided to refrain from acting on his thoughts.

“What are we doin’ here baby girl?” he asked. Jordan turned to him, the smile even wider than before as she inhaled what he assumed was the smell of rotting metal mixed with the dewy morning.

“We’re spending the day together as promised,” she responded and leaned closer to him. “Indulge me a little Len.”

Leonard caved and snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. She inhaled a sharp breath, her hands flat on his chest, and a small moan escaped her lips. Leonard licked his own lips, his eyes slightly hooded, leaning his head down to barely touch her mouth with his own. “This is a scrap yard.”

“Yes, it is,” she whispered as she rubbed her nose on his, “and we better get going.”

Jordan pecked him lightly on the lips and wiggled out of his embrace, turning around to trek into the mountains of metal junk.

Leonard shook his head and smiled. He couldn’t even fathom why she chose him and he was more than enthralled with her. The way she cared for her patients, how she worried about her studies, her utmost attention to him like there was nothing else in the universe worth her time. She was passionate and extremely loyal, and damn she was beautiful.

He reached down and grabbed the strap of the duffel bag, lifting it to his shoulder with difficulty. “What do you have in here? Rocks?”

“Tools Len.” Jordan turned to him with a sly smirk. “It’s tools.”

“Why do you need tools?” Leonard asked, mostly to himself, as he followed her through the heaps of metal, his mind calculating until he aligned the dots. “Wait a damn minute. You dragged me out here so you can tinker?”

“Come on Len,” she whined as she turned the corner into another heap of metal, the new area filled with old cars from the 20th century. “I come here to decompress. Plus, you might learn a thing or two.”

She studied each car as she passed them, her hands sliding on the hoods until she stopped in front of a weathered pickup truck. She turned to Leonard with excitable glee. “Oh look, an old Ford!”

The car hood already unhooked, she lifted it and propped it on the kickstand. She leaned in, one hand on the base of the radiator to support her weight while the other dug into the side of the engine as she tested out the serpentine belts. Her hand then pulled out the ignition coils, inspecting each one and returning them back to their housing, and she continued her detailed examination of other components.

“The owner here lets me come as many times as I want, and if I can get one of these cars running, he’ll sell it for a decent price and then gives me a small percentage of the profits,” she explained as her hand ran over the throttle position and then the intake manifold.

Jordan stood back, her hands now covered in engine grease and grime, and she smiled triumphantly. There was a glint of determination in her blue eyes as she surveyed the entire front end of the vehicle. Leonard swallowed as he continued watching her with the uttermost fascination.

God, that’s a turn on. “Alright, I’ll indulge you. What do you need?”

Jordan turned to him, her eyes soft and warm. “You Len, always.”

Something burned in Leonard’s chest at her soft spoken words, and his stomach fluttered. “I’ll always be here, until you decide that you’ve had enough of me.”

“No, Len. I can’t imagine being away from you. Not anymore.” She stood in front of him, her hands folded behind her back to avoid touching him with the grease on her fingers, but her nearness was just enough for him. The heat that radiated from her body was intoxicating, alluring, downright captivating. She rewarded him with a toothy smile. “I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you. The fact that you’ve come here with me despite not knowing any of this tells me that you’re a keeper.”

Leonard returned her smile with one of his own and nodded. “Then it’s settled. You’re my girl from now on.”

“Leave it to a southern boy like you to say ‘my girl’,” she said with a giggle and leaned closer. “The common term is ‘girlfriend’.”

“Hmm. So that makes me your boyfriend, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” she responded eagerly and wiggled her eyebrows. “Now, if you’re a good helper, I might treat you to a full body massage later.”

Leonard dropped the bag on the ground and reached out, his index finger tracing her cheek, down her neck and ending at the hollow of her collarbone. “Well now, that’s decent payment for a full day’s work.”

“Good.” She turned and dipped back into the car. Her attention on the faulty alternator below, she brought her palm out and shook it. “Get me the extra long ratchet and a ten millimeter socket along with the three-eighth extender from my bag please.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you know what I asked for?”

“Damn it woman. I may be a doctor, but I know the difference between a ratchet and a monkey wrench.”

——

The best part of clinical rotation was the hands-on experience, where the resident gets into thorough details and shows the intern how to tend to certain complex situations. It was Jordan’s favorite part, especially since she was in the last leg of her rotation in the surgical wing, and Leonard offered to have her stand in a live surgery to watch him do an intestinal resection.

There was no denying that Leonard had the steadiest hands in the entire hospital, observing him with the exoscalpel between his long fingers as he methodically cut into the subcutaneous tissue, his arms deep in the patient’s abdominal cavity as he used the protoplaser to remove the damaged and decaying portions of the small intestine. It was captivating, and in all sense, undoubtedly fascinating.

When Leonard stood back after finishing the resection and asked Jordan to step in and close the area, she was beyond giddy with excitement. She was mostly nervous, her hands slightly shaky when the OR nurse handed her the autosutures, but Leonard was right beside her, his bloodied hand securely over hers, and he directed her to the proper positioning to start. She couldn’t see much of his face since he wore his surgical face mask, but the crease on the edge of his hazel eyes was a strong indication that he was smiling at her.

The highlight of the surgery, in her opinion, was afterwards, when she stood at his side in the scrub-up area, each standing against their own sink, hands and arms under the steady stream of water, washing away the blood and grime of the surgery.

“Thanks for showing me how to finish that surgical suture,” she stated as she rubbed her hands with the lather of her antibacterial soap. “That technique was top notch.”

He hummed in agreement, turning his head slightly to regard her. “You’re a great doctor, Jordan. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

The charge nurses moved through the scrub-up room, and then the room fell silent. Jordan turned her head slightly with a spunky smirk. “You’re not so bad yourself, grump.”

Leonard paused his hand-washing. “I thought we were passed this.”

“A little playful bickering in public is fine,” she said, her voice teasing. She could see him from her peripheral vision, his head shaking from side to side, a small smile furnishing his lips.

“Oh, we’re playfully bickerin’? That’s new.”

Jordan laughed. “All jokes aside, I learned a lot here with you.” She turned the water off by sliding her foot under the sink and pressing the shut-off valve and grabbed a towel. “I appreciate it.”

“You’ll make a great chief medical officer one day.”

Jordan pulled off her head cover and snickered as she opened the door, a little gutsy with her emotions. “With all the compliments I’m getting from you, it almost sounds like you’re publicly flirting with me, and in the hospital no less.”

Leonard whipped around, his eyes wide, his hands and arms still drenched. “I am not flirtin’ with you.”

“The next thing you’d probably say is how pretty my eyes are.”

Jordan winked at him and walked out. Leonard stood there, a small blush on his ears and neck, swallowing as his throat ran dry. He grabbed a towel, drying his hands and arms quickly, and sprinted out the door behind her.

She was halfway down the hallway when he caught up with her. They reached the door to the staff locker room and before she reached to open the door, Leonard stopped her by placing a hand on the doorframe. “Your eyes are very pretty and not the only thing I want to talk about but that’s beside the point. I’m giving you a professional compliment.”

Jordan stared into his eyes, her hand inches from the control panel, and slowly, she reached and placed her hand on his outstretched arm. He was warm under her touch, the hairs of his forearm soft, and he inhaled a sharp breath when she smiled. “I’m pulling your leg Len. Lighten up.”

Jordan patted his arm and opened the door, leaving Leonard to stand dumbstruck at the entrance.

“Damn it, I take it back. You’re exactly like your brother.”

Yes, best moment yet.

——

“Jojo, I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Jordan winced at Christine’s sudden arrival and turned to her friend. “You’re on the wrong floor Chris. What is it?”

Christine arched an eyebrow as she set her belongings on the desk and smirked. “You’ve got this look on your face that I haven’t seen before.”

“How observant of you,” Jordan said dismissively as she turned back to her charting. The rotation shift was almost over and she was anxiously waiting for the chronometer to blink with her time to leave.

“Girl, you look like you’ve been getting laid.”

Jordan whirled around and shushed the blonde loudly. “And what if I was?”

“Listen, we’ve been friends for what seems like forever,” Christine countered with a snort. She brought her hand up to draw an imaginary circle in the air. “You have a tell, and it’s written all over your face.”

Oh lord. “Yeah, sure.” Jordan rolled her eyes and continued typing on her PADD.

“We’ll let’s see.” Christine leaned closer to the doctor. “Judging by the way you’re glowing right now, I’d say he’s phenomenal in bed, probably more than phenomenal. It’s probably toe-curling, extraordinarily earth-shattering sweaty sex.”

Jordan furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “God, could you be more caustic?”

“Bet I know who it is.”

“Alright Chris, I’ll bite,” Jordan sighed, placing her PADD on the desk and turning to her. “Who’s this mysterious lover of mine?”

Christine placed a finger on her chin to fake herself in deep thought. “He’s tall, dark and brooding, and geez, he’s got this look on him that screams ‘mine’ for miles. It’s almost archaic. Never expected it from him.”

She gestured to the area behind Jordan and she turned. At the end of the hallway was Leonard, PADD in hand, but his eyes were on her, and there was no mistaking the carnal look he was giving her. Jordan turned back to Christine with a neutral face. “Why do you think it’s him?”

“Don’t be evasive Jojo. Not once has he taken his eyes off of you.” Christine clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “It’s almost like he’s ready to pounce the moment he sees you walking away. Besides, it’s the same lewd stare he’s always giving you since you started working together at the hospital.”

“Oh come on,” Jordan said exasperated. “He doesn’t do that here.”

Christine smiled triumphantly. “I knew it.”

Jordan sat pensively and sighed, eyeing her friend carefully. “Don’t tell my brother.”

“Why would I tell him? I don’t even know him that well.”

“You guys have been seeing each other for a while. You think I’m evasive? Don’t play stupid with me.”

Christine bit her lip and grunted as she grabbed her PADD to walk away. “Fine, you win. I won’t tell Jim.”

——

Master List

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Eleven

[maddie-kungs-emporium]

My 10 Favorite TTRPGs (2021)

There’s plenty of amazing tabletop games out there, but I have a few favorites that I absolutely love. The most important are presented below, along with a paragraph of explanation of why I like them. If you have a bit of spare cash burning a hole in your pocket, then hit up Drivethrurpg and find yourself a copy! Before we get started though, here’s a few ground rules.  1. No two from the same system (e.g. I can’t put Mummy: the Curse and Mage: the Awakening on the list even though I dearly want to). This is mostly to prevent one system from being overrepresented (Looking at you, PbtA). By the same token I can’t put multiple editions of the same game or anything like that. 2. None of my own games. Obviously there would be bias there, wouldn’t there? 3. I have to have enough experience with the game to properly rate it. This means I have to have read the game and have a keen understanding of it. 

4. This is my personal opinion. No specific criteria are used beyond whether or not I enjoy them.  With that being said, let’s start from 10#. 

10#: Golden Sky Stories (Star Line Publishing)

This game is on the list because it is one of the most avant-garde games out there, which only makes sense from the philosophy it was created from. If you want a simple game about talking Japanese raccoons you can play with children, check this out. Furthermore, the game is possibly the most peaceful and relaxed from a writing standpoint you can get with any piece of media.

9#: Vampire: the Masquerade (White Wolf But It’s Complicated)

This game is the most personally significant to me on the list. It has serious flaws which prevent it from being any higher, but this game literally saved my life during the darkest periods of when I was young, and I mean that. I don’t actually recommend this to the majority of people, at least not unless you’re already interested, but I could not honestly make a list without it.

8#: Deadball (WM Akers)

This may strike some people as an odd choice, given it is barely a TTRPG and completely flies in the face of many basic game design principles. However, not only does Deadball stretch the limits of both TTRPGs and the game of baseball at the same time, but it does so in a way so simple that even a child can pick it up. If you want a little soothing game to play with your friends and family, it’s definitely one to consider.

7#: Qin: the Warring States (Cubicle 7)

This is one of the few games, which, in my opinion, portrays my Chinese culture in a way that is nuanced and respectful while also doing something different with it. Portraying a criminally underused historical period is one thing, but the accuracy with which they do it is another. Easily the best historical game I’ve ever come across, sorry Ars Magica, Würm and Pendragon!

6#: Flying Circus (Newsstand Press)

There is not a universe in existence where I don’t praise Erika Chappell on one of these. While Flying Circus isn’t as personally significant to me as a lot of the other games on here, it’s mechanics, lore and use of PbtA are some of the best I’ve ever read. Please check if out, you would make me very happy doing so.

5#: Adventures in Middle Earth (Cubicle 7)

From the 5E engine specifically, this game is easily the most mechanically solid I’ve ever seen. While there were other competitors, the reason Adventures in Middle Earth is so high up is because of all the things you could do with Middle Earth, with Tolkien’s incredible imagination, this is one of the far superior uses. I cannot recommend this game enough. Sadly, this is out of print, but it is still occasionally available via humble bundles. If you can find a copy and want to see what 5E’s mechanics can do at their creative peak, get it.

4#: Star Trek Adventures (Modiphius)

Not gonna lie, my enjoyment of 2d20 is hit and miss. I thought it was okay for most things, I didn’t like the Dishonored hack very much, and the Dune hack had good ideas but top-heavy execution, but Star Trek Adventures is easily the best use of this system. Doing the world of Star Trek complete justice, this game combines masterful synergy with the 2d20 engine at its best with an understanding of Star Trek that has yet to be beat.

3#: Tales From the Loop/Things From the Flood (Free League)

If I’m being perfectly honest, I like this better than Kids on Bikes. This game captures the feeling of youth as well as the ideas of teen movies incredibly well, and the Year Zero Engine is one of my favorite systems. Without a doubt, Free League is one the best TTRPG publishers in the business.

2#: Shadow of the Demon Lord (Schwalb Entertainment)

Not only is the closest thing to a perfect 5.5E we’ll ever get, but this game is easily the most mechanically solid on this list. It’s difficult to argue that of all the interpretation of the D20 systems you could come up with that Schwalb’s isn’t one of if not the most captivating. The world of Rûl is excellently done as well, especially considering it wasn’t even intended to be more than a default setting, so go check it out.

1#: Promethean: the Created (Onyx Path)

This is easily the best TTRPG in the history of the industry. Not only does it function as an exploration of the human condition worthy of preservation in the MoMA, but it is mechanically solid with amazing lore and an incredibly meaningful message. This game is one of, if not the, most amazing creative endeavors in any media. Honorable mentions go to Hoodoo Blues (Vajra), Ashen Stars (Pelgrane Press), Legend of the Five Rings (FFG), and Dark Heresy 2E (FFG). Thanks for reading.

[sshbpodcast]

Something for Everyone (unless you liked Jadzia) in S7 DS9!

by Ames

How exactly does one pick top and bottom episodes from a clump that’s mostly serial? A Star to Steer Her By found a way! It’s a strange final season of Deep Space Nine that’s split almost evenly between the ongoing storyline of the show and a bunch of episodes to pad for time while the writers created that ongoing storyline for the show.

Read on below for our bests and worsts of season seven, which you can also listen to at our absurdly long series-wrap podcast episode here (jump to timestamp 1:38:05 for the season discussion), where you can hear the bonus tops and bottoms of fan-favorite guest star Liz and also the full series ratings!

[images © CBS/Paramount]

Bottom Three Episodes

This season really suffers from some characters regressing hard as if they didn’t make any development over the course of the show. Some regressed so hard, they basically restarted the character (oof, too soon…).

“Afterimage”: Chris Quick! We’ve only got a couple episodes to establish Ezri as a character because we were huge dicks to the last Dax and killed her off. Let’s rush through showcasing this new Dax in a barely formed plot mostly spent treating her like a sex object. Check, check, and check!

“Take Me Out to the Holosuite”: Ames, Caitlin Season 7 is all about wrapping up the Dominion War arc, but let’s pause that for two weeks to have a goofy baseball game that is entirely lifted from every other TV show, to wash all the sci-fi off the show, and to just crack jokes that don’t land. That’s strike three; you’re outta here!

“The Emperor’s New Cloak”: Caitlin, Jake Mirror universe episodes tend to always feel like fanfic as it is, but our final trip through the looking glass basically said “Hold My Beer.” The whole thing felt like a checklist of in-jokes, some tropey character nonsense, and even more objectifying women to round it off!

“Extreme Measures”: Ames, Caitlin Julian goes full hypocrite in this not-even-a-little-bit-surreal mindtrip when he kidnaps and tortures Sloan, gets him absolutely killed, and takes a whole episode for a boring brain adventure. This is not the Julian we thought we knew, and it’s a shame.

“Chrysalis”: Chris, Jake And that’s not even the worst thing Julian has done lately! He has fully reverted to his sleazy season-one self, grooming women so he can date them, performing surgeries on them to “fix them,” and still somehow making everything about him. Gross, Julian. Gross.

“Field of Fire”: Ames, Chris, Jake One thing we can say about our new Trill character is at least she’s consistent… because every single time we do a Trill episode, it’s entirely contradictory of all the preceding Trill episodes to the point of confoundment! Joran is the worst he’s been and what even is this new overpowered weapon?

—

Top Three Episodes

On the flip side, this season also benefits from how varied its episodes are that it really does somehow have something for everyone, especially if you love you some schlock!

“Take Me Out to the Holosuite”: Chris Sigh. Chris likes doofy, fillery episodes and I’m not even going to try to parse why this time. The uniforms looked good, I guess? That must be it. If you like doofy, fillery episodes and aren’t bored to tears by baseball, then this episode… has some good uniforms for you.

“Once More Unto the Breach”: Jake We love us a good Klingon episode and this one’s got a lot to sink your teeth into. It was an excellent send off for the long-established character of Kor, it reflected on some of the less honorable elements of Klingon culture, and Worf got to put his knife skills on display!

“Badda-Bing Badda-Bang”: Caitlin Heist episodes of the world, take note! This is how you pace and tell a concise, interesting, coherent, and clever heist story. Placement in the middle of the war arc aside, this episode gave us some great acting, costumes, music, film techniques, the works! Badda bing!

“The Siege of AR-558”: Chris, Jake We’ve also got a straight-up war episode featuring some tense ground patrol action, horrifying new weapons, and Quark with a gun! Also we see actual consequences for characters’ actions! What Star Trek so far has ever given us that before?

“Treachery, Faith, and the Great River”: Ames, Jake Proving that two Jeffrey Combses are better than one, this episode doubles your Weyouns and gives us some excellent Vorta time that really kicks you in the feels. It would take a bunch more Weyouns to reach the level of this excellent story. Those are our demands, Star Trek; get on it.

“The Changing Face of Evil”: Ames, Caitlin One of the absolute highlights of the big honkin’ ten-part finale is the Dukat-Winn relationship you never realized you needed. The hottest elements of which are all on display in this episode in particular, which are all pretty drool-worthy, but the most props go to Louise Fletcher for totally selling every moment.

“It’s Only a Paper Moon”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris This episode achieves the impossible: It gives us some really genuinely good Vic Fontaine. All the credit, of course, does go to Aron Eisenberg for his really touching and complete characterization of post-traumatic stress disorder. Thank you, ensign Nog, for being such a treasure.

—

So that’s all the season-by-season bloodwine we can spill on Deep Space Nine. We’re sad to leave the station and take our final look at the wormhole, but there’s also the full series top and bottom fives to celebrate and lament, respectively. Watch this page for more, listen to weekly episodes at our home on the web on Soundcloud, follow us on Facebook and Twitter, and tell the prophets to stop it with all the baseball already!

[avintagekiss24]

Doodles and Diamonds

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x black reader (high school!au)

Rating: teen

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 1858

Summary: Calculus sucks. If it wasn’t for your habit of doodling, you’d never make it through class. Apparently, your drawings help someone else stay awake as well.

A/N: I told y’all I have a problem! Challenges are my weakness. This was written for @littledarlinhavefaithinme 10 marvelous things I hate about you challenge that I found yesterday. The prompt is in bold. Here’s some high school fluff to balance out all of the porn I’ve been posting lately, lol. (the title is referring to a baseball diamond, just fyi)(i’m terrible at coming up with titles).

Calculus is the worst class of the day. It’s right after lunch, so you’re usually stuffed to the gills with french fries and orange soda. You never bring your calculus book with you, so you have to walk clear across the school to get to your car to grab it, so by the time you make it back to the classroom, you’re hot, sweaty, and out of breath. Plus, it’s calculus, so in it’s own right, it’s just terrible. But, day after day, month after month, you stuff yourself stupid with french fries, you run to your car and back, and curse yourself when you finally collapse into your chair from sheer exhaustion. 

The only thing that keeps you awake in calculus is your doodling. You prop your sketchpad in between the pages of your calculus book and fill the pages with everything you can imagine. Puppies, dragons, witches, your teacher turning as a frog- doesn’t matter the subject. You think it, it gets doodled.

Something weird happened a couple of weeks ago though. When making your daily trek to your car, you noticed a sticky note on the drivers window. You peeled it off, your face screwed up in confusion as you read over the chicken scratch.

Can you draw lion eating an ice cream cone?

You looked around but saw no one paying you the least bit of attention. You didn’t recognize the handwriting, which, to be honest, you wouldn’t recognize your own mother’s handwriting if your life depended on it. You shoved the note into your pocket, grabbed your book, and ran your ass to the classroom. You glanced around as the room filled with students, trying to find the doodle requestor, but no one even looked in your direction. Class started a few minutes later, and to keep from falling asleep, you drew a lion eating an ice cream cone. 

Every day after that, a new post it note appeared on your car, asking for some stupid little drawing. A cat playing the flute, Captain America punching a baby, a happy little dinosaur flying a kite during a storm; the requests were endless. But, everyday, you obliged your secret doodle admirer. You drew exactly what they asked for, ripped it out of your book, folded it up all nice, and left it in the seat of your chair. 

Why not just wait and see who picks up the prized drawing, some would ask? And risk being late to art class? The class that just happens to be your favorite, have your favorite teacher, and you share with your bff since third grade? You think not. Finding out who the doodle master is, is really not all that important. Plus, you kinda like the mystery of all anyway. 

Today is like all the others. You finish off your french fries, tossing the paper basket into the trash before you head for the parking lot. Your face is buried in your phone, your fingers tapping away at the screen as you approach your 1965 fire engine red Ford Mustang (a present from your dad, who lives clear across the country and has never been there for you and is trying to make up for it with money- you’re not complaining.) You pick your head up, just in time to see one Bucky Barnes standing at your drivers door. 

You stop, squinting as the wind blows your out of control, curly, frizzy hair in your face. His head is down, his expensive sunglasses propped up on the top of his head, pushing his hair back. You can’t really tell what he’s doing as you approach from the passenger side, but the likes of jock, douche-bag Bucky Barnes being next to your pride and joy, makes you uneasy.

“Umm, what are you doing?” You finally huff as you reach the passenger side door. 

He snaps his head up to you, his blue eyes wide as he shoves his hands into his back pockets, “Uh, you know, just um, admiring your car. It’s in fantastic shape.”

You nod slowly as you purse your lips, glancing around the parking lot, “Uh huh.”

You open the door and dump your bag into the front seat before grabbing your calculus book and your sketchpad. You slam the door shut and pop back up to find Bucky still standing there, his eyes still wide, his hands still in his back pockets. You fold your arms and rest them on the hood as you blink back at him, a smirk on your face as you lift your eyebrows.

He clears his throat and laughs nervously, “Did you um, restore it yourself?”

“Nope.”

He nods, sucking his teeth, “So, you bought it like this, huh?”

“Obviously.” You answer, your voice dripping with annoyance. 

He chuckles again as his nerves get the best of him, “Not a big talker, huh?”

You shrug, “Depends on the topic. My fenders don’t really whip me into a verbal frenzy.”

“Right.” He starts, backing away from the car, “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll uh, I’ll see you, um, in a few minutes, in calculus, I guess.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the whole conversation. The two of you have been in the same classes since second grade, and these are the most words the two of you have ever exchanged. You squint at him as he walks off, a small piece of yellow something grabbing your attention from his back pocket. You lean down to peer through the window to the drivers side, noticing that your usual sticky note isn’t pressed to the window today. 

You move around to the drivers side, checking the door and then the ground, but there’s... nothing. You snap your head back toward the brunette as he crosses the parking lot, that yellow something still sticking out of his pocket as he moves. Your mouth drops open. Holy shit! 

You take off in a sprint, your black converses slapping against the pavement as you advance on him. When you finally reach him, you snag the folded up sticky note from his pocket and nearly double over from the fire that is now your lungs. You should really participate in gym a little more often. He turns, throwing up his hand at you as you try and catch your breath, your hands on your knees.

“What the fu-” He starts, his words halting as soon as he notices the sticky note in your hand, “Gimme that.”

You stand up straight, lifting your arm up into the air as you whip around so that you’re facing the opposite direction. He pulls at your arm and swipes at your hand as you turn sharply left and right, moving your arms up and down and side to side to keep it out of his reach. You bend over and stretch out your arms, using your ass and hips to keep him at bay as you unfold the three by three piece of yellow paper.

“Can you draw a giraffe driving a fire truck?” You read out loud, laughing  as he swipes at your hands again, “Oh my god.”

He curses lightly underneath his breath and finally drops his hands to his sides, “Fine. Fine. You caught me.”

You stand up straight again and turn to face him, “I would have never guessed in a million years that it was you.”

“Why not?”

You scoff, widening your eyes at him, “Golden boy, all star shortstop Bucky Barnes, who hasn’t said two words to me in ten years, is leaving weird requests for me to draw on my car? The Bucky Barnes?”

He shrugs, “I like em, your drawings. You’re really good.” You scoff, rolling your eyes toward the sky, “I mean it! You are.”

You shake your head, unable to wipe the smile from your face, “Thanks. That’s, that’s really nice of you to say.”

“You’re welcome.” He says proudly, “You know, conversations work both ways. You haven’t said anything to me in ten years either.”

“Second grade, actually.” You agree, “You broke my purple crayon.” He throws his head back and laughs loudly, the sound of it making you smile in return. You made Bucky Barnes laugh. Pride swells in your chest.

“Holy shit, you still remember that?”

“Of course, I do!” You screech, “I loved that crayon! Purple is my favorite color. I’m still mad you about it, honestly.”

He throws his hands up, still chuckling, “I’ll buy you a new one. Okay? Will that squash it finally?”

You close your left eye and hum as you tilt your face toward the sky, pretending to think it over, “I dunno, man. That was a special purple crayon.”

“I’ll buy you a whole pack of crayons.” He smiles widely, “I’ll get you that sixty four pack, baby. You’ll be the talk of the town with that thing.”

You cover you face with your hands and laugh, “Oh, god.”

“Everybody will be so jealous of you. It’ll be so fetch.” He exaggerates, holding out his palms toward you as he stains his voice to reach a higher pitch. 

“You’ve clearly lost your mind.” You laugh.

“Hey, I’m just glad our ten year stalemate is over. I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted.”

The two of you share another laugh before it dissolves into silence. He still smiles at you, causing another large grin to break onto your face. You drop your head under his gaze, giggling stupidly as you tuck some hair behind your ear. Are you flirting right now? Is that what’s happening? What in fresh hell?

“So um, you should come to one of my games some time. Like, Friday night, maybe.” He says after a minute, nodding slowly. 

You click your tongue and nod with him, not really sure what to do or say, “I don’t know. I don’t know much about baseball.”

“That’s okay.” He shrugs, “We can get some pizza or something afterward. Or, french fries, since that’s all you eat.” 

You snap your eyes back to him. He wouldn’t know that unless he’s been watching you. Why is Bucky Barnes watching you? What is happening? This is definitely taking a turn that you did not expect.

“I mean,” He shrugs, shaking his head, “You don’t have to, I was just, I just, you know, it’d be cool or whatever, since we’re, you know, talking, or, whatever.”

“Um, yeah, okay. Yeah. That, that’d be, that could be cool.” You answer, nodding your head faster as you fumble over your words. 

Bucky smiles, running his hands through his hair, “Ok, cool. Cool. I guess, I'll see you Friday.”

“Well, aren’t you coming to class?” You ask, pointing your thumb toward the building behind you.

“Oh shit,” He laughs, “Yeah.”

He shoves his hands in his back pockets as the two of you start a slow stroll to your calculus class. You both end up being late and take a tongue lashing from Ms. Fertman as you take your seats. You scoot down in your chair, crack open your calculus book, and draw a giraffe driving a fire truck.

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