#star trek mention

[notyourwatermelon]

I like watching old iconic pillars of fandom media for a lot of reasons. one big one, for example, is finally understanding why our fandom foremothers wanted those boys to kiss so badly

[averageidiotenby]

C'mon Star Trek predicted it PLEASE

(@thatboredaroace )

[shut-up-danny-kun]

I actually do wish Spirk was canon, but I want it to be entirely off-screen and just mentioned by other characters as a matter of fact. Like 'hey, did you know Starfleet only ever made one exception to their fraternization policy, and that was to allow Spock to serve under Kirk when they got married?' Or maybe there's a planet that's populated by Vulcan-Terran hybrids and everyone knows that it was founded by those two because the conditions were good for both species. No, Kirk wasn't the youngest captain in Starfleet, the record was actually beaten by his daughter Saavik two decades later. People say she struggled to live up to her parents' fame, poor thing. A hundred years later Kirk and Spock's messages to each other are published in two tomes. The High Council deems them so inappropriate that they're banned on Vulcan, et cetera.

Any depiction of Spirk on screen would be inherently disappointing because it's straight up impossible to live up to sixty years of fan-made content. The only way to make it good is to incorporate it into the lore and arouse even MORE speculation and fan-made content.

Feel free to disagree, though...if you could make Spirk canon, how would you do it?

[princesscolumbia]

Double Isekai, Ch. 2

Yes, I've posted a preview for ch. 1 after I got ch. 3 up and posted, but I figure it can't hurt to post more previews, so 1 preview post per day until I hit the currently posted number of chapters:

Summary:

Dreams give loved ones a chance to say hello...and goodbye. A chance meeting at a mall requires some fast thinking.

Preview of Ch. 2 below the fold:

Startled more than hurt, the redhead scrambled back and clapped her hands over her nose. "Oh, you sonova..." she growled.

"It's 'bitch,' thank you, I left the 'son of a' part behind years ago."

"Yeah, 'cause you were too pussy to handle bein' a man!"

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, for cryin'...I get you're still in high school, but you got access to my entire life! At least come up with better insults!"

Ranma dropped her hands back down to her sides and glared, "What right do you have tellin' my ma I aint a man?!"

She gave Ranma a flat stare, "Ranma, we're in our own fuckin' dreamscape and you're a girl right now!" Ranma looked down at herself as though the self-examination would change her gender presentation. "Maybe tell me you're a man when you're not sporting stonking huge tits and a vagina on the personification of your inner self."

"This is just the curse!" tried Ranma.

"Nope, we both know that aint true. Your girl-form is the spitting image of your mother, just...you know, smaller."

"Hey!"

"You know, like a compact car."

"Why you...!"

"Pocket sized."

"Fucking...cross dresser!"

She shut her mouth so hard her teeth clacked as Ranma's insult hit home. The muscles in her cheeks flexed repeatedly as she worked to control her anger.

Ranma took the opportunity to growl, "My pops raised me to be a man! That's my destiny, not that you'd get that! You just gave up!"

"Of course I gave up! I stopped tryin' to be a man 'cause I wasn't one and I was just...tired." The heat in her voice cooled significantly and she sagged against the tree she'd been slammed up against, "You're sixteen years old, Ranma. You've been dealing with the dysphoria for, what, five years? Maybe 10 if you gained enough awareness that young to understand gender like that? Then you get the girl body you really want, the one you were supposed to have and you're fighting it!" She sagged down further, finally sitting on the ground at the base of the tree. "I had been fighting it for so...long. Gods, it hurts to even think about," she felt her eyes pooling with tears, "I made charts and graphs and little how-to manuals for myself and every time something came along that was 'how men are supposed to be' I studied it like I was going pro at it and every...damn...time it always failed to make me feel like a man inside."

Ranma had a haunted look as she heard the description of a life lived in dysphoria. "I aint..."

"Ranma, shut the fuck up. You know what I know. You know what I felt like and I can feel it in your memories, too!" She sighed and scrubbed at her face. "Listen, if I could leave, I would. You can guess I'm rather eager to get back to my daughter and girlfriend. But I can't, Ranma! We're stuck, we're officially Tuvix'd. Pretty much only a Q or God could split us at this point, and we're in the wrong universe for Q to notice and God's a fucking sonovabitch who I will happily punch in the goddamn face and he knows it."

Ranma just glared at her for a moment, then ground out, "I will beat you, whatever it takes!"

She thumped her head against the tree, "Ranma, there's nothing to beat! It's already over. I'm you, you're me. The only thing left is for our memories to finish merging."

"So, what, you're gonna eat me from the inside like some reverse lyctor?"

"It's already done, Ranma! 'You' and 'I' are just concepts! The fact that you know what a lyctor is in this context should be proof enough for you!"

"Of course I know what a lyctor is! They're..." she paused, disturbed shock spreading over her face.

"Yeah, see? You're getting it now. I know about lyctors as a concept where a necromancer 'eats' a cavalier at the soul level to gain eternal life because I read about it in Gideon the Ninth. That book won't be published, if it's published in this universe, until the late 2010s. The property its inspired by isn't even going to be made for 20-30 years. You only know that because I know that."

Ranma dropped to the ground, landing on her butt with a muted thump. "...but..."

"I know."

"I didn't..." complained the redhead.

She sighed, sadness and sympathy in her expression, "I know."

"You can't just..."

"I didn't, Ranma. That's the nature of the isekai. It's not a grand scheme or a destiny or a plan, it just happens." She shrugged, "I mean, now that it's happened to me I've got more theories, but it all boils down to the most ridiculous dice roll ever. The odds are literally infinity upon infinity upon infinity to one...but because the dice get rolled an infinite number of times, that 'one' shows up an infinite number of times." She gestured expansively at the sky, which was a hazy suggestion of a starscape, "Out there in the multiverse, someone is being disintegrated spontaneously and reappearing in a dungeon in a fantasy reality. Somewhere a dwarf is being crushed by a collapsing mine to wake up in modern day New York City. Some dumbass punk kid is going to bed perfectly secure that nothing strange will happen to him and wake up in charge of a Starfleet ship in a universe where the Federation was founded by Risa instead of Earth and it turns out he's the protag of a sci-fi harem doujin."

Ranma was practically curled up on herself by this point, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The older, more experienced girl watched Ranma collapse in on herself and her voice softened, "And somewhere, some divorced rando decided to turn off a freeway early because of a traffic alert on her phone and got t-boned by an out-of-control garbage truck."

Ranma's eyes popped open, fear and emotional pain radiating from them as she wordlessly pleaded for something she couldn't quite define.

"I'm dead, Ranma. Even if I could leave your body and soul to you again, I'd have nowhere to go. I've got a beef with God large enough to butcher and feed a large third-world country so my chances of getting into heaven are pretty fuckin' slim. I wasn't even sure there was a 'soul' to have an afterlife with until this happened."

They stared at each other in silence across the clearing, the dream world slowly shifting around them.

She broke the silence after a bit, "You know, you're startin' to look a lot like my sister did at your age."

Read the rest on AO3.

[wizardinahole]

Everyone say thank you Andy Robinson and Alexander Siddig

[toastandcheesea]

mass-posting old art today

[kyurochurro]

troubles that come with tribbles...

(aka a good excuse to draw one of my fav episodes and fav crew members while coming back from a heavy week at uni ;D)

[t0ast-ghost]

Here’s a little GIF of Bones and Spock going up to Kirk in the third episode of tos

[sp0o0kylights]

Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 

Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 

It's flash. Showmanship. 

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

 Eddie panics. 

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 

Not when it comes to running, anyway. 

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 

The urge is still there. 

To run, and save face the cowards way. 

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 

Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 

 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks. 

“Mmm.” 

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 

“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 

“I know. Wait, how do you--” 

And well. It’s now or never. 

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 

Steve looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 

The zine he keeps in his hands. 

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 

Which is news to Eddie. 

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 

“You did! Robin told you!” 

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 

“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 

“That’d be cool.” 

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 

[a-trek-trough-the-stars]

Barry Trivers and Gerd Oswald dropping “The Conscience of the King” on December 8th of 1966, only to never elaborate on Tarsus IV and Kirk’s past there

[sepdet]

Merry Shitscram, Tumblr!

(transcript below cut)

Guess what I borrowed from Mom's stacks while visiting?

I won't cap the whole thing, but at least I can provide you with some selected excerpts for the next week. Yes, this IS that edition.

Transcript below.

Chapter One

FOR THE THIRD consecutive night, Captain James T. Kirk awoke with a gasp of surprise and something akin to fear clinging to the side of his throat. He blinked once, then struggled to sit up, leaning against the head of the bed his eyes scanned the dark room. Reality returned and his gaze settled on the chronometer. It was shortly after 3 A.M., Ship Standard Time, but he was wide awake and knew he would have little hope of getting back to sleep before the alarm demanded his attention at six.

Releasing the breath he'd been holding, he replayed the recurring dream in his mind, wondering why it should have disturbed him so deeply . . . and so often.

After discovering no logical explanation for its cause or its unprecedented effect on him, he tried passing it off to the fact that the Enterprise had been on routine patrol of the Romulan Neutral Zone for nearly two months—an inexcusably boring mission. But with Romulan Fleet activity increased for no apparent reason, he accepted the fact that he was bound to be a little edgy.

After another deep breath and a shake of his tousled hair, he slowly lowered himself back into the warm nest of covers,l and closed his eyes; but as expected, he was only pretending to sleep when the First Shift duty alarm sounded less than three hours later.

Stifling a yawn, Kirk entried the Deck 5 turbolift to discover the ship's first officer studying him with a lifted eyebrow.

"Morning, Spock," Kink said with a sheepish grin, wishing he'd taken the time for a cup of coffee before presenting himself publicly.

The Vulcan's head inclined in greeting, "Captain," he said formally. The doors closed and the lift began its familiar horizontal motion, but the Vulcan continued to study his friend. "Is everything all right, Captain?" he inquired presently.

"Just fine, Mister Spock," Kirk replied. "Why do you ask?" He wondered if his eyes were a trifle more red than they'd appeared in the mirror.

The eyebrow climbed higher beneath the long black bangs. "You seem. . . unusually distracted," Spock observed after a questioning moment of silence.

So much for dismissing the matter, Kirk thought. Spock's scrutiny was never escaped easily. "Would you believe me if I told you that the invincible Captain Kirk has insomnia?" he asked with a smile.

"Indeed," Spock murmured. Kirk was normally a very private individual; but now the hazel eyes seemed alight with a combination of embarrassment and mischief. The Vulcan decided not to mention that he himself had been having disturbing dreams for at least a week. "I trust you have not sought relief from Doctor McCoy?"

Kirk shook his head. "For a few hours of lost sleep?" But the twinkle left his eyes as a frown found its way to his face. "I don't know why it should bother me at all," he said, feeling some need to explain himself. "But . . . never mind, Spock," he added as the nocturnal images returned to haunt him. "It was . . . just a dream." Trying to change the subject, the smile returned to his face. "Another human shortcoming, eh, Spock?"

Something in Kirk's too-casual tone caused the Vulcan to look at him more closely. "Would you care to discuss the matter in more detail, Captain?" he asked, momentarily wondering why he didn't dismiss the subject as Kirk was attempting to do. Yet he realized that the captain's normal reservations concerning his personal life did not extend to him, just as he understood that the reverse was also true.

Kirk glanced up from where he'd been studying his boots, and felt the familiar telepathic door swing open between himself and the Vulcan. It was something which had formed between them over the years, something which had saved their lives countless times and made them brothers. He did want to discuss it, but only with Spock.

McCoy would, as the Vulcan was fond of pointing out, dispense a handful of pills and an hour of friendly advice; and though Kirk valued the doctor's friendship, he wasn't in the mood for a full battery of psychological tests to determine the cause of a simple recurring dream. He chanced a quick look at the Vulcan as a plan of action took shape in his mind.

"I haven't had breakfast yet," he began, finding an excuse he needed. "But . . . I'm sure you have, Mister Spock. After all," he continued with a broadening grin, "Vulcans never ever miss breakfast, right? You have to keep those thought-wheels well oiled and in perfect working order." He studied his first officer's lean frame. "And you never gain an ounce either!" he added with a look of mock-disgust, remembering Mc-Coy's warnings to cut back on the meat and potatoes and settle for a salad once in awhile.

The Vulcan brow lowered as Spock observed his captain's nonchalant approach. "I have not eaten this morning," he stated in straightforward contrast to Kirk's roundabout endeavors, "and I would be pleased to join you." His eyes seemed to lighten as he studied the casual way Kirk was holding in his stomach. "And we need not inform Doctor McCoy as to the menu."

—•—

(Next Time: Our lads discuss nightmares over breakfast and discover they are on the same wavelength, as usual.)

[See tag Killing Time Excerpts for more!]

[andyoullhearitagain]

btw I love that "Constable" isn't Odo's actual rank, it's a semi-mean nickname that he can't get everyone to stop calling him.

[sad-trekkie-life]

Ok, but this scene… You could see the genuine FEAR in Kirk’s eyes, his realization he cannot control his body. Poor Jim was SA’d multiple times during the show, but this scene made me even more uncomfortable, it is notable by creators focusing on his face.

SA on males is still a topic people do not talk about often enough nowadays, and during many decades male SA in media was either downplayed, or even showed as something desirable or funny. So for me it is interesting to see scenes like this in TOS, where this type of situation was clearly portrayed as disturbing & wrong, and the female abuser was clearly a villain, not just a sexy chic.

Generally TOS is weird about this topic. We have The Enemy Within with some pretty disgusting implications, but we also have The Gamesters of Triskelion where the scene with Uhura was made in such disturbing way I literally had to pause… I didn’t expect it, and Kirk’s hopeless screaming made the scene even worse. But I was happy to see that she was able to fight off the creep. Could tell the episode was written by a woman.

This particular episode showed some interesting female character, where she was clearly an antagonist, morally gray character, although a sympathetic & understandable one, but also a victim of war, and of society - she was clearly as smart as men, why should she rely on drugs to make men listen to her?… Although I wanted to punch her multiple times, she didn’t deserve what she went through, her fate was shown as scary and tragic. This episode is one of the few with a clear bad ending (well, it was a commentary on Vietnam War after all) and where all of the characters (including Nona) make morally ambiguous decisions.

Interesting how TOS is both outdated and ahead of its time.

[randomaj]

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

why does jim kirk always snile so sneetly

[r0zzk1ll]

what do u mean you see him as a walking beautiful glowing bright light. what do u mean u go on holodeck adventures with him and ONLY him to engage in his hyperfixation. WHAT DO U MEAN HE BROKE U. what's with all the awkward shoulder pats and back rubs. why do u treat his cat like she's your child. why are u always in close proximity of him at all times. Why Do U Look At Him Like That. yet u just call him your best friend. geordi lafaggot :/