#tripletucker

[starstcff-z]

❛  You are late,  ❜ barely a second, and with everyone else she would have let it go, vulcan rigidness chipped away ( even if she denied it ). When it comes to him and his lazy drawl, she can't help but fall back on old patterns, clinging to them in an effort to not let go of them completely.

misc starter call • @tripletucker

[elencr]

ₓ ˚ .   ୭   ˚ ○ ◦ ˚    ―      ㅤ‘ @tripletucker​ ’   | STARTER !

* .  ♡           “ you’re lucky i was awake. ” ellie said as she finally finish putting together trip’s dinner. it was nearing midnight but the man had only just finished up doing whatever it was that caused him to miss dinner. “ and you’re lucky that i like you - ” there’s a snort as she sits down in the chair opposite him, sliding the plate of her mum’s famous lamb korma over to him. “ i don’t do this for just anyone. ”

[choicescreen]

@tripletucker

“ remember when we surprised lieutenant reed with that pineapple cake for his birthday? “ she bends over her bowl. her mouthful of noodles ended up being bit more than she had bargained for length-wise. 

when she’s managed to parse it down, she swallows, straightens, and continues her thought. “ we should do something like that for the captain. i hear his birthday is coming up. “

[moonshadowed]

“We’ve done as you’ve asked,” one of the Suliban soldiers proclaims, throwing the commander into the room. The shadow looms on their dais, illuminated by glowing blue.

“The engineer?” the voice, distorted, cold, and enraged, cuts through the room. The Suliban visibly cower.

“He-he can lead us to Archer!” the other pleads. “That’s what you wanted!”

“Get out.”

“But—“

“Get. Out.”

The doors are slamming shut within seconds. The glow appears brighter and the silhouette pivots, turning away from @tripletucker and facing the wall. Shoulders hunch, intangible hands more visible now and curling into trembling fists.

“…A transport will be sent. You are going to be on it and returned to your ship.”

The voice is quiet, and there’s a long pause. Then, almost inaudible, almost human,

“Why did it have to be you?”

[cptnbatel]

⤷ ✧ @tripletucker said, ❝ thank goodness you're all right. ❞

her usual definition of all right generally does not entail the splitting headache that has accompanied her grim return to consciousness. however, presently, she will take her self-assessment, carefully tested with small movements, that she retains two arms, two legs, and ten fingers. she blinks against blurry vision that refuses to resolve as she sits up ( though she knows more than a few medical officers who would yell at her for doing so ).

stretching her neck to either side provokes a flare of pain in stiff muscles, and she grimaces before finding her voice. ❛ I'm all right, ❜ she confirms, concluding that it is, at least, mostly true. ❛ what happened? ❜

[nursc-a2]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾                        @tripletucker​ asked:  31. a kiss on the palm.

Standing on the edge of the platform, Christine gave a quick peek around to ensure there was no one there to see her before leaning forwards.   The cold metal of the fence pressed into her stomach, feet lifting from the ground as she began leaning practically off the platform to catch the best view of the work being done on the enterprise’s outer hull.

Strange as it was, she had come here to relax.     The cramped ship   (    cramped beloved ship   )   felt claustrophobic sometimes.    With the high-open ceilings here, her mind was given ample space to wander and get lost, so much so that she didn’t even realize someone had caught her disobeying the ‘no leaning on the fence’ rule that was explicitly spelled out on a plaque right next to her.     

There was barely a moment to register a familiar warmth against her back before she felt an arm wrap around her waist, pulling her backwards.    With a startled gasp, heart finding a new home near her throat, Christine spun around and collided with a warm, solid chest, eyes wide when they met his.  

Trip held her gaze, his own eyes twinkling with amusement as he brought one of her hands to his face, slowly turning it over to place a gentle kiss on her palm.        

❛   Oh, no you don’t, mister.   Think you can scare a year out of my life and apologize with a kiss?    Only one kiss?    I think you can do better than that.   ❜    

spots to kiss.

[doctordonovan]

❀    ||      closed starter    ||     @tripletucker​​

 her presence is a rare thing,    but that's almost entirely intentional.    it is best to keep herself out of the way   -   focused on her work    &&   unlikely to bring any trouble to anyone's doors.     crew is long since used to how she is:    quiet and relatively harmless,    pleasant even in the clear distance she maintains.    (   time travel is always a messy thing,   but it's messier still when they consider the threat just romulus' name carries regardless of it's now or then.   )    until they work out how to fix situation at hand...    she is little use.    what can a geneticist do after all?

 still she waits to pipe up,    perched in usual spot    -    it's one of the quieter areas of the ship,    with one of the better views waiting for anyone determined enough to venture so far.    screen balanced on lap glows all the same,    curious green gaze glancing up before it returns to what she'd been previously reading,      ❝   how's the exploring going?   ❞    ship must be a surreal experience for him,    something brunette can only emphasise with how it must all feel.      ❝   maeve.    I can't remember if I've actually introduced myself.    ❞

[guttersniper]

@tripletucker​ said: 12. the hug that comes after a rough day

hugs.

he chews at his lower lip, glances off into the middle distance. his eyes are dry as bone and ageless in their cant, but there’s a tiny almost youthful tightness in his throat. one that makes it obvious he’s heard the dismissal far more clearly than the attempted assurance -- almost regardless of trip’s intent. 

he reacts as someone with a history of being kicked while already belly-down would -- as someone who’s told that no good’s ever come from wanting. stupid. doesn’t matter. forget i said anything. 

trip starts coming towards him, and he stiffens. starts to lift up by a half-inch on his toes in preparation to pivot and stalk away. he looks apologetic. sounds it, too, but mutt won’t press his luck. it’s not the words that trouble him. it’s the tone that hems and cages up around his shoulders. the assertion that it wasn’t his fault falls on near-deaf ears, either way. 

trip’s right hand lifts, settles on his shoulder. he flinches, hard and half-jarring. the lingering warmth of his palm and fingers aches something fierce in mutt’s chest, and he hardly has the time to decide what he thinks about that before he’s gently urged forward. 

he should’ve fought. he should’ve shot his sharp elbow into his stomach, or drove his knee up into his crotch.

instead, all he can seem to do is notice how his heart hammers in his chest. his arms don’t budge from where they’re squeezed between them, but he doesn’t pull away, skull flush to trip’s midriff.

[cptnpike-a]

“    trip...   what’re you doing here?   ”    chris tries to be pleasant, avoids gritting his teeth when he speaks, but really, he is reaching the end of his rope here.    after a long day of avoiding eye contact with t’pol, trying not to stumble over names and technical terms, the idea that he would soon be in his locked room with only porthos for company had kept him going.     “     our shifts are over.    ”     he said, the most polite version of the words get out he can muster.

@tripletucker​     •       sc.

[dreamedbeyond]

jonathan archer of paramount's enterprise by beth ( 24 , gmt - 4). independent, selective, oc and crossover friendly, affiliated with @tripletucker / @qknows / @shoulders / @inluck / @intergalaxial and @elencr .

a study in : dreaming of traveling beyond, forging your own path, the love of the journey, wanderlust, the thrill of discovery, exploration, starry eyed wonder, radical empathy, unconditional love, and making a better future no matter the cost.

about | rules | verses | memes | opens | headcanons | the shadow | mains

[starstcff-z]

❛  Sir, ❜ he starts raising a hand in front of him, lips pressed together in a tight lipped smile in an effort not to laugh. ❛  I'm not sure I understand what you are asking... ❜ it was a weird request, verging on ridiculous, but most of what he did most days also fit in that description, so who was he to judge?

Still... he had to double-check, just to avoid discovering two hours later that he heard it wrong and was performing a series of seemingly random tasks for no reason at all. Again.

misc starter call • @tripletucker

[elencr]

´ ･ .  ✶ ━━      eyes stare back at him in shock. though to be honest , for as much of a brilliant engineer that trip was , ellie could tell that he was a terrible cook. mainly from most of the stories that he's told her. which is why she's been teaching him a few things here and there. a laugh was her response before she placed the fork she was holding into her mouth. she wouldn't exactly call this a date but they were the only ones here. though they had been having dinner together for the last couple of weeks. sometimes with jonathan and t'pol , other times just the two of them. tonight was little different. the mess hall was pretty much empty , ellie had waited until trip finished his shift. ellie was thankful that it was empty , they had the whole mess to themselves. sometimes she felt that her quarters were a little bit too cramped to host a dinner. couldn't exactly eat at a table in there. unless no one minded sitting on the top bunk. " so no pot roasts for the foreseeable future then , got it. " there was a short snort. before her body leaned forward , elbows coming to rest on the table - leaning closer to trip. " i have a pretty similar story. " ellie started. " though i was twelve when i almost burnt down the house. "

╰   ––––––– ✧   @tripletucker   :      asked      ❨        ❛ the last time i tried to cook, my pot roast ended up on fire and put a hole in my dry wall. i had to hang paintings over it until i could refill the crater. ❜           ❩˙

[nursc-a2]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾                        @tripletucker​ asked: ❝ i’ve got you. you’re safe now. ❞

It stops with a moment of complete stillness.      When the phasers stop firing and the dust settles, all there is left is Christine standing alone in the middle of the room, bodies piled up around her, their unconscious eyes   —   a moment ago filled with viciousness   —    staring back at her blankly.    

The past was a much more dangerous present than the future.    She had wandered off, nothing unusual about it, something she had done on away missions a couple dozen times, feet guided by boundless curiosity.      In a hundred years, it will be a peaceful planet she’s going to visit for pleasure and ease;    today it showed a dark underbelly, a brewing civil war she had...   just forgotten about.

In her excitement to see a favorite fight, the history of the place completely evaded her.    What was the use of a time traveller, accidental or not, if she couldn’t even remember something as basic as that?   

The moment of stillness can only last so long.    Malcolm clears his throat and starts ordering people about, communicating with god knows who, and it breaks her out of her spell.     Christine takes a wobbly then, then another, feet picking up pace until she reaches Trip, immediately throwing herself in his arms.

A soft sigh passes through her lips as she feels his arms tighten around her, his murmured words, making her breath more easily.    Her grip is tight on his neck, keeping him near out of a near desperation she can’t fully articulate.

She’s never been good at facing her own mortality.

hurt/comfort starters!!

[guttersniper]

@tripletucker

brow furrows, deciphering. it took him a little while to work out what was being said to him. terran languages might have proved difficult, once. however, he’d always been a fast learner, especially where they were involved. he still wouldn’t trust himself to hold an entire conversation in federation standard, at the very least, but it isn’t as if he could speak ferengi, being what decade he’d somehow been launched back to. 

he can’t even recall if this starfleet knows who they are, at this point. he’s got to be smart about this.

then, a though occurs to him, caustic in its grief: i know denobulan and tellaran. the doctor’s denobulan, and tellarites helped found the federation. i could speak that, and the translator will know it enough to translate it. 

cautious, wary, but somehow infinitely curious, if someone looked for the smoke signals, he presses in a thoughtfully paced english: “ what part of earth are you from? “ he doesn’t realize he’s absorbed trip’s accent, words colored with his particular twang. 

he’s already getting better at this. 

[elencr]

´ ･ .  ✶ ━━      she leans back slightly so that she could see his face. blue eyes stare back at her. he chewed silently for a couple of seconds before he spoke. ellie leaned up on the balls of her feet , grin spreading across her face. her hand was still raised towards him , before she lets it fall back to her side. " really ? " ellie had fed trip just a single piece of meat , which she had been slow cocking for pretty much the entire day. she had decided to make a stew , with the new vegetable equivalent ingredients they had gotten when visiting risa the other week. " cause i was a little worried that it wouldn't taste the same. " leaning over to the bench , ellie picked a piece of meat and popped it in her mouth as well. before her grin stretches a little wider. " i am pretty good aren't i ? "

╰   ––––––– ✧   @tripletucker   :      asked      ❨        ❛ oh my god... this is AMAZING! ❜           ❩˙

[elencr]

´ ･ .  ✶ ━━      a pout pulls on her lips , as his voice startled her , which almost caused her body to nearly fall backward off the counter that she was balanced upon. rather precariously too. chef had decided to head off to bed early - she had to take on ellie's load when the brunette had been sent down to one of the newest planets they had orbited , to find more and new ingredients. so elenore was left to run dinner , not that ellie minded. she enjoyed dinners. especially since she could do dessert. but apparently the ship had run into a little bit of space turbulence as they were flying away from the planet - causing the spaghetti sauce , ellie had simmering away on the stove to go everywhere. which meant that it reached the ceiling , as well as a few other places she'll find in a couple of days. blue eyes looked down at trip - stilling her hand that held the dishcloth and let it fall back to her side. she had been trying her best to reach the ceiling in order to wipe down ALL of the red liquid off of the ceiling. but she was still a little too short. " tell travis he sucks. " she's kidding of course , travis was one of the best pilots on board the enterprise. " didn't put the lid back on the pot before we hit the rough patch. " ellie sighed , resting her hands on her hips. " it went everywhere. " including her , but the brunette hadn't noticed yet.

╰   ––––––– ✧   @tripletucker   :      asked      ❨        ❛ how on earth did you get pasta sauce on the ceiling? ❜           ❩˙