marointhemoon

[marointhemoon]

blobrobo from the fourth house of betazed

blorr’boQ from my Klingon operas

[marointhemoon]

me @ every female star trek character rick berman’s writing has ever touched

She would not fucking say that. Yes she said that in canon, but I perceive a greater truth unaffected by her writer's misogyny

[marointhemoon]

Inexpensive writing and study resources!!

Help me fund my masters by checking out the writing resources I sell on my Etsy!

Hello, my fellow writers!

I make writing resources on Etsy and I’m currently saving money to help keep me going whilst I study my masters in creative writing. This is a selection of the products I have available! A mental health journal, writer’s journal, fantasy writing starter kit, summer camp workbook and lots more!

If you’re looking for creative writing resources to help you beat writer’s block, complete a novel or have a fun writing challenge to keep you going, then please check out my Etsy shop! All products are digital pdfs that are available instantly after purchase and I try to make everything as affordable as possible! Even favourites on items can help my shop!

Check out ‘spilled ink workshop’ on Etsy or check out the link below

🔗 https://spilledinkworkshop.etsy.com

[marointhemoon]

the bong rip is sending me into the fucking stratosphere dgdvkffsgdbgzbfddhfas

he deserves a bong rip after everything honestly

FREAKING TRIP ATTACK!

[marointhemoon]

affirmations that i've been stuck on lately:

i am not going to obsess over my hit count

i am not going to obsess over my comment count

i am not going to obsess over my bookmark count

a low hit count does not mean that the thing i'm writing is not worth writing

i write for me, and it is okay to write only for me (i.e., to post and not get traction)

i am a hobby author, not a content machine

it's okay to write stupid shit sometimes

it's okay to write things just for the fun of doing so

serious works are not the ultimate goal; the goal is to have fun

daily affirmations: i am not going to obsess over my kudos count. i am not going to obsess over my kudos count. i am not going to obsess over my kudos count. i am not going to obsess over my kudos count. i am not going to obsess over my kudos count. i am not going to obsess over my kudos count. i am not going to obsess over my kudos count. i am not going to obsess ov—

[marointhemoon]

We'll Manage (ch. 1) (archived version)

This is an old version of the first chapter of this work, originally posted to AO3 on 9/29/2024. As of 7/9/2025, I've replaced the chapter with an edited version, primarily because I wasn't happy with the writing quality of the original and there was only one chapter to replace. However, I'm archiving the original version of the chapter here, for anyone who prefers it and/or wishes to continue to have access to it.

Cheers!

“Mind if I sit here?”

Hoshi looked up from her meal. She made a delighted, “Mm!” and swallowed her bite of pad thai. “Nelson! Not at all—sit!”

Kemper returned a small smile of his own as he put his tray down and took the seat across from her. “How’s everything been?” she asked, putting her fork down and leaning forward on the table.

“Eh,” he answered, taking a bite of his burger. As he swallowed, he shrugged lightly. “I’m alive.”

In truth, she’d expected worse.

In the year after the crushbloom incident, the ship had generally become a friendlier place. It helped that her friends were—or, in Malcolm’s case, had become—some of the cuddliest people in the quadrant. Subsequently, though she wasn’t sure how much influence they’d had over it, the crew became equally open: constant quick hugs, arms thrown around bodies during meals, even the occasional head resting on a shoulder during movie night.

Things remained plenty productive (and plenty exhausting), rank was still very much a thing, and there were still a handful of respectful holdouts on the affection front (T’Pol, Phlox, and Captain Archer came to mind). But it was nice. The dynamic was just really, really nice.

Meanwhile, it had been eight months since the Xindi attack on Earth. The MACOs had joined the crew last April, and they’d been in the Expanse since last June. Life had been difficult, to say the least. Nowadays, no one knew when the next attack would be, or who would die. It unsettled Hoshi that that was the new reality: instead of the intrepid explorers they had started the mission as, they were soldiers, fighting to stay alive at best and waiting to die at worst.

Hoshi was almost thankful that the mishaps still sometimes managed to veer toward the absurd. They’d found an uninhabited planet a day ago, complete with an abandoned Xindi starship. Next thing she knew, Captain had relieved almost everyone of duty and she’d been sending out a distress signal… on behalf of the Xindi.

Yeah, she didn’t know either.

Hoshi had known that three MACOs had attended the initial trip down. What she didn’t know—and wouldn’t find out until this morning—was that the starship had been overgrown with flowering vines. She wasn't too surprised. Usually, a detail like that wouldn't stick in anyone's mind. Unless—

“They all got hit with that pollen,” Malcolm had said at breakfast, trying not to smirk. Though his feud with Major Hayes had formally ended, some schadenfreude remained. "The stuff that got you—" he gestured to Travis. "—two years ago."

"Crushbloom?" Travis asked, almost pale. Malcolm nodded, the smirk disappearing.

Trip grimaced. "Those poor fuckers."

Hoshi didn't disagree.

“Well, who knows?" she'd said. "Maybe this will prompt them to ask us for help.”

And well ... how lucky it was that one of them was sitting right in front of her.

Nelson had always been especially sweet with Hoshi, and they’d become friends fast. If anyone from Starfleet could get him to let his guard down, it was her. As it was, she cocked her head a little, trying to read his body language. “How’s the pollen been treating you?” she prompted, her voice going softer.

His smile faded a little, and he leaned back in his chair. “It’s kind of a bitch, if I’m honest. I know Phlox wanted us to ‘enlist our friends’ to deal with it and all that, but…” He chuckled humorlessly. “I don’t know, it’s awkward. Plus, I’ve been anxious as anything. Couldn't tell you why, but it's only getting worse.”

Hoshi pursed her lips, before giving him a decisive look. “Well. You’re my friend now, and this isn’t my first time helping someone through this." She smiled as she saw his cheeks go a little pink. "Not to mention, the first person was nearly in tears by the time they got to the four-day mark.”

“So,” she continued, not missing how pale Nelson’s face had turned. “I’ll make the same offer as I have before: I don’t know if I can miss any amount of bridge duty just to cuddle, but I can dedicate some of my evenings. If you want, come to my quarters tonight—I'm on D Deck—and we'll get you figured out.”

The MACO chuckled again, a little more amused this time. “You talk about it so casually.”

“It’s not like we’re talking about sex," she said, shrugging. "Besides, in this context, it’s just something to help you feel better. I'm offering my quarters because they’re quiet and I figured you’d want some privacy, but this doesn’t have to be anything formal.”

He stared at her incredulously, his smile persisting as he shook his head. “You freakin' Fleeters are something else.”

Hoshi grinned. “What can I say? We look after our own.”

---

Kemper couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good.

He was only really aware of two things: 1) Ensign Sato's nails against his scalp as she worked her fingers through his hair, and 2) the smell of jasmine—whether shower gel or perfume, he didn’t know or care—as he breathed in, his face buried in her shoulder.

“You still awake?” she murmured.

“Barely,” he mumbled.

He felt her smile against his temple. "Is this still okay?"

"This is great." If he had any more wherewithal, he might wince at how thoroughly he'd been undone. He felt his face go warm as Sato stifled a giggle.

"Good."

Being a MACO was not for the soft-hearted or hedonistic. More often than not, you were more worried about survival than any pipe dream of comfort. At all times, a MACO had to be vigilant, resilient, and ready for anything. That was what Major Hayes always said. Every day, Kemper tried to keep it in mind, used it to steady himself.

And yet, all Sato had had to do was put her hands on his shoulders, and he’d damn near collapsed into tears. She hadn't even questioned it, just pulled him close without a word. She said she'd done this before—had the first person reacted like this?

It didn't matter. As promised, they'd ended up cuddled in her bunk, her arm around his chest and her leg thrown over his hip. He didn't need either; he wasn't going anywhere. He was out of uniform and happy to let his brain melt.

Out of nowhere, he sniffed. As he felt her thumb gently swipe over his cheek, he nearly got weepy again. To say the least, this was nice.

Even outside the relief from the pollen, it was just really, really nice.

---

Ensign Sato's personal log — January 13th, 2154. Sergeant Kemper came to me last night about the crushbloom problem. I wish he'd said something sooner, but ... by all appearances, we've resolved the core of the issue and he seems to be on the road to recovery.

[marointhemoon]

it do be t’pol tuesday tho

(also this artist is really good)

long time no t'pol <3

[marointhemoon]

Here is your requested bullying about We'll Manage. <poke>

And I'm going to challenge you to write 500 words on cuddlepuddle.

And possibly on claim, especially if it's closing out the SatoReed saga.

So intrigued by watch the sky and best intentions and when, not if, we'll reach the other side.

As for your slice of life - engineer and astrophysicist, please. And Janelle, if no one else has asked.

okay okay okay.

prepare for olympic gold-winning yappery.

i don't have a chapter of we'll manage because the thought of writing amanda cole as anything other than a vapid bitch has me tempted to put my head through a wall. as a consolation prize, here's a 600-ish-word sneak peek of cuddle puddle:

Malcolm Reed has always prided himself on his independence. It's always been easiest to keep things formal, professional, and healthily distant, to the greatest extent possible. No close attachments. No ambiguity. No misunderstandings. No room for errors. That’s how life stays clean and in order. The Enterprise, as if by some cruel means of divine ridicule, has always prided itself on precisely those things. The military, of course, has its own way of forcing people together and leaving skin behind when it tears them apart again, but this particular ship has a little something more. These people like each other—very much so—and they’re very willing to express it openly. It varies somewhat by department, but the expressions of affection run the gamut from fraternal shoulder punches to too-long, soul-compressing hugs that make his stomach turn just watching them. Indeed, with all due respect to the rest of the crew, he's always been rather at odds with their touchy-feely tendencies. He’s never been a touchy-feely person, anyway; it’s unbecoming of a senior officer, besides. In the interest of avoiding the harassment of certain others, he’s kept the latter opinion to himself. At least some of his staff seems to have some sense on that topic. At the very least, between Zabel, Porter, and Pointer, the security team has maintained itself as a bastion of austerity against an army of lovers. Still, said army is large and powerful, and even his iciest personnel have their melting points: Burke for Zabel, Webster for Porter, and Fuller for Pointer. Hardly romantic in any of their cases—God knows this department is too small for that—but no less potent. With a power only describable as solar, Zabel melts into Fred, Porter into Jay, and Pointer into Corina. He’d be lying, though, if he said he’d rather not experience Fred’s full-chested laughter, Jay’s infodumps, or Corina’s yells of three-pointer-fuelled excitement on as regular of a basis as he does. Much to his chagrin, Malcolm Reed is indeed human. At the end of a long day of inconsequential things going wrong, there’s nothing that can force his hand quite like the beginnings of a soon-to-be-hellish migraine. Before he can think better of it, he comms Trip to let him know to expect him. His and Trip's... arrangement is nothing new. He hesitates to call it a relationship, or even a "friends with benefits" situation. There are benefits, certainly, but that's hardly relevant. It's hardly even his and Trip's, really. Certainly not exclusively. At some point, he and Hoshi conspired to make taking him apart a regular occurrence; Travis, to Malcolm's knowledge, helped them come up with the plot, but he’s always strikingly absent from these ad hoc sessions. He continues to make up for his absence in other ways, besides—he's plenty playful enough. As he makes his way down to Trip’s quarters, the insecurity sets in. It always does. There are some parts of Malcolm’s brain that he’s never quite been able to turn off, and his guilty conscience has always been chief among them. He knows Trip and Hoshi well enough—this has never been a sex thing, nor even an offer of a romantic relationship. They don’t require that of him any more than he asks for it. Still, protests that small, defensive, ever-insecure part of his soul. The stern, sardonic, stiff-lipped Chief of Security, off to be cuddled? The thought is equally vulnerable, equally intimate. It’s an argument he wages every time: if Trip didn’t want to do this, he would never have offered in the first instance. Trip doesn’t mind his clinginess—that, he knows—but he does.

re: the last chapter of claim, i'm working on it—i finally have a decent direction for that (not that i didn't; i just hated it.)

the other wips, though... hawhawhaw. i'll go in order of your ask.

watch the sky:

the squeakquel to that work i wrote about malcolm having a panic attack for seemingly no reason. you can already tell how dusty that work is. it's the work with the line, "Stepping into decon, it's honestly a little like a raccoon's staring at me."

additional fun fact: this work is a bit of a turducken, in the sense that my notion file for it has a whole other work nested inside of it. it went by the exact same name—it was just about hoshi having a psychotic break in the aftermath of her involuntary field trip to the xindi ship. ironically, i've made more progress on that work than this one, but i'm still dealing with the same issue: what the fuck is a story progression.

like i get to the bit where whumpee and caretaker finally reunite and whumpee gets some TLC, but idk where to go from there.

best intentions:

a work based on this post (why/how a keeper of the lost cities post made it onto my feed, i have no idea). the reason i'm struggling to write it is because i originally intended to write it about t'pol trying to fit in with the NX-01 crew. but i felt like that didn't really fit her character arc, so i kind of abandoned it. and then i was like "oh wait, what if i write it with worf or data with the NCC-1701 crew instead?!" but those have their own issues so we're kinda stuck at square one.

when, not if, we'll reach the other side:

a work whose title comes from "the graduate" by the arcadian wild (spotify link / youtube link). i've been sitting on this work for a while, too: this is a crossover between TNG and ENT where, somehow, trip tucker and william riker get to talking about the things they've lost over time and how they (primarily will) choose to continue to love and rely on people anyway.

my view of trip has changed somewhat significantly since i originally came up with this idea (which is part of what has made writing "cuddle puddle" so hard), so i'm struggling with how his characterization not only fits in with riker's but also within the story at large. does he choose to continue to love, nevermind as openly as he used to? is he still emotional when talking about elizabeth, or is he more closed off about his feelings on the subject?

engineer and astrophysicist:

so i've been doing this thing where i've been rolling a wheel on wheelofnames with every name of my NX-01 roster on it, then coming up with a scenario in which they talk to each other or interact in some way. if i can't come up with something, I roll a d100 and pick the corresponding entry from my prompt ask game.

the difficult bit is when i roll two characters i haven't fleshed out basically at all, then get the prompt "family." like why. because like:

what i know about the engineer: his name is grant fletcher (based on this guy), and he's a 1st-class crewman from queens. he's 26 at the time the ship launches. AND THAT'S IT.

what i know about the astrophysicist: her name is patricia o'malley, but she goes by patti (based on this girl). she's a sciences ensign from south bend, indiana, whose family and community is heavily irish. also she's 23 at the time the ship launches. AND THAT'S IT.

and like. i know part of the challenge (most of the point, really) is to come up with the characterization as i go, so as to kinda flesh the characters out via these little tidbits. but that doesn't make it any less like:

Lingua Franca:

fun fact: sometimes it actually is easy peasy lemon squeezy. kind of. or, at the very least, the issue you're having is the same minor-but-also-major issue you're having with most of your other works (okay, i've done the thing, where do i go from here?) and the solution is to just like. make a story beat map and expand from there.

imagine actually doing the solution, though.

lmao.

no but in all seriousness: LF is about janelle kelly chatting with another engineer, who was born and bred in france, and trying to communicate in french. without spoiling it in any meaningful way, it's a platonic meetcute.

but yeah, i think that's everything. i'm not going to apologize for rambling, because i presume you knew what you were getting into when you asked me about this many works. (i'm happy to talk about more of them, and/or in more detail, if you wish. <3)

thanks for the ask!

[marointhemoon]

grammar was off in the last one so i’m resending lol

five sentence drabble

hoshi & trip

67. playing the melody (perhaps something involving a harmonica…….)

“Isn’t Rachmaninoff supposed to be really hard?” Hoshi asked.

“Yeah, but look how slow the piece is,” Trip replied, pointing to the top of the page. “42 beats per minute; that’s less than a beat per second. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I still barely know how to play!” she hissed. “I’ve only been at it for, like, a week!”

“And? I’m relearnin’ how to play the trumpet after my harmonica got turned into collateral. We’re both gonna suck for a while, and it’s gonna be fine.”

[marointhemoon]

hey can I go with slipping away for the WIP game please? and the Macos one We’ll Manage. thanks!

OKAY SO

"slipping away" was meant for last year's AI-less whumptober event, and the prompt it used was "Hey! Stay with me, okay?!" from day 23.

Basically, it was meant to be a remix of a major TNG character's death (though TNG is almost 40 years old, I won't say who) where they don’t die immediately, but instead slips away slowly in sickbay, with an added bit of salt in the wound via Deanna being able to feel them fading via her empathic/telepathic abilities. It's one of those works that I really like the concept of but that I have nothing written for, so it's just kinda... stuck.

We'll Manage is meant to be a spiritual successor to It would have been fine...—for those who didn't read that one, Travis Mayweather gets cuddle-pollen-ed and the NX-01 crew collectively gets over their emotional constipation about it.

As the sequel, WM tries to integrate the MACOs into it, with each of the "major" ones paired with an NX-01 crew member. I've only gotten through one chapter, which focuses on Hoshi and Kemper, though I may rewrite at least some of it (sometimes I put arbitrary word limits on my works, and the quality nearly always ends up worse for it).

The other chapters are supposed to be Cole and Trip, McKenzie and Travis, and Hayes and Malcolm, with all of them kinda centering on the idea of anger/sex/etc. being a cover for loneliness and how to be cringe is to be free. Naturally, I'm stuck on all three, especially the one with Cole and Trip (Cole's a hard character to write, particularly because I don't like her much lol).

Thanks for the ask!

[marointhemoon]

Here are my regular WIPs. Yes, there are 21 of them. No, I'm not tagging 21 people:

slipping away

can't help myself

i prayed my mind be good to me

learning curve

when, not if, we'll reach the other side

We'll drink the strange brew of time and neglect

cuddle puddle

loophole

We'll Manage (someone please bully me about this, i want to write about macos but it's haurd.)

watch the sky

i could never find the right way to tell you

repurposed

when

lost and found

hall of mirrors

best intentions

claim

conquest

go in service

Lighten Up

integration

I was also going to make my ENT slice-of-life collection its own list, just to make things easier to look at, but there are genuinely so many WIPs that that would be, at best, extremely difficult. So, here are the standalone story WIPs:

Untitled (ENT, geologist goes down to hydroponics for a visit)

Lingua Franca (ENT, Janelle Kelly tries to practice her (A2) French skills with a born-and-bred Frenchman)

Untitled (ENT, engineer & astrophysicist)

Untitled (ENT, exobiologist & stellar cartographer)

Untitled (ENT, watch commander & security officer)

Untitled (ENT, Chef & several crew members)

Genuinely, if you want me to infodump about literally any of these, ask me. I am the least secretive motherfucker ever. I want to yap about my blorbos incessantly.

🔮 WIP GAME 🔮

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

Tagged by fanfic wifey @talshiargirlfriend - sending all the love! 💜

As TG put it: Ask away! Ask early. Ask often. Add new sentence quotas. Bully my writing brain. Yep, I'm down with that.

Current focus:

Cracking The Code (bully me. bully me! I need to finish this one!)

Wild West AU

Nothing To Fear

Better The Devil You Know

Wild Wild West AU (yes, they're different things)

Place Your Bets coda

Bluestockings & Breechloaders

Holo-imaginings

Nowhere To Go

Equilateral Triangle

Meowcolm

Money Or Nothing sequel

Not Quite My Name

Heartache

Madness of Malcolm Reed

The Warlord and the Scribe

Rival Gangs

The Canopus Incident

What Was Lost

The Warlord and the Assassin

Aftermath

I'm not tagging 20 people ... Tumblr won't even notify them all, anyway. But, if you'd like to play along (and have WIPs), I'll tag, with no pressure: @more-better-words @papercranesong @trekbec82 @curator-on-ao3 @elenath9 @marointhemoon @zthetrekkie @ionamalachite @scatterbrainedcapybara @mysterioushoodedfigure

[marointhemoon]

[marointhemoon]

now is the summer of my discontent

*basically, the vibe would be making some sort of redux post (i.e., either a compilation work or a work for each redux) and posting the edited story there.

**with this one, the vibe would be keeping the original version of the story somewhere in the post (i.e., as a second chapter) while having the redux version of the story as the first chapter

[marointhemoon]

5-sentence drabble

56 - Danger Ahead

Hoshi & T'Pol

this ended up being a double drabble because I finished the first 100 words and then it felt incomplete so I wrote 100 more.

inspo:

Hoshi’s eyes grew wide as she slowly skimmed through the pages of the Kir’Shara—thick not only in text, but with the weight of Surak's mind and the thoughts therein.

“This is so... extraordinary,” she whispered. "No wonder the High Command's tearing itself apart over it."

“Indeed,” T’Pol said, equally quietly, “and translating it is an undertaking I would entrust to very few others.”

“You are serious,” Hoshi breathed.

"I understand that the finer cultural points can impact the translation process, creating meaning where none exists. I fully intend to guide you through that aspect of it. But yes, Ensign: I am entirely serious.”

"Do you think this is going to go over well? With the High Command?"

"Perhaps. The High Command is, and likely always will be, wary of interference. Whether they will interpret this as such, I am not certain. However, with T'Pau in her position, I cannot help but wonder if her alignment with the Syrannites would prompt her to be accommodating."

"Pacifism under conservative teachings..." Hoshi murmured, flipping through the pages. "It might just be human history, but I've never known those things could coexist."

"Perhaps not. But you know what it takes to change it."

original challenge is here.

[marointhemoon]

five sentence drabble

malcolm & phlox

22. mother nature

“Doctor?”

“Lieutenant! A pleasure as always.”

...

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course. Is everything alright?”

“It’s possible to… edit one’s genes, isn’t it?

...

...

...

“Lieutenant?”

“Isn’t it?”

...

...

...

“It is…

...

...

...

…why?”

“So it’s possible to rid oneself of things like… allergies?”

“If the cause is genetic, yes. Unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple. I must also remind you, Lieutenant, that procedures like that are illegal under Starfleet’s confederation with Vulcan…”

...

“Right, well, if I sneeze one more time, I’m going to kill something.”

“Oh…

...

...you weren’t being wholly serious…?”

“No, but I would like to stop sniffling.”

“Right… that, I can do.”

[marointhemoon]

As it turned out, no doctor-induced meddling was needed.

The way this could be literally anything for literally any fandom

The rules, for those new to the game: jot down the last line of your current WIP (or most recent, if you have multiple). Doesn't have to be THE last line, just the last line you wrote.

WIP last line game!

Tagged by @dangerously-human! Thank you, friend!

T'Pol turned, and prepared to intercept the unexpected guests.

Mysterious! *wiggles fingers*

Tagging @deadheaddaisy, @pearlypairings, @indignantlemur, @talshiargirlfriend, @1lostsoul0fishbowl, @phoenixflames12, and anybody else who wants to play!

[marointhemoon]

5-sentence drabble

72 - Mischief Managed

Malcolm & Travis (& Hoshi? Maybe?)

"So," Malcolm said breezily, betraying absolutely nothing, "it appears, Mr. Mayweather, that you have something to confess."

Travis tried to look skeptical; the fear in his eyes betrayed absolutely everything. "And that would be…?"

With the smug amusement of a security officer catching a prankster red-handed, Malcolm passed a PADD his way: with mounting horror, Travis watched himself take Malcolm's gloves and hide them atop a locker, then claim to have no idea where they could be.

Before his mind caught up, his body was sprinting down the corridor, with Malcolm close behind and gaining fast; if Hoshi heard him screaming with laughter after Malcolm had caught him, she didn't say anything the next morning.