#can you blame me for having to use the ship tags on this. gestures wildly

[reviseleviathan]

just tore apart the tenuto mv for hq screenshots because these two are so fucking precious i'm screaming 1/probably 3

[catty-words]

uhhhh you made some gifs about ben tryng to kiss devi twice despite her not wanting that and you got real poetic in the tags. have you considered that maybe that's messed up? he tried to kiss her. twice. without her consent. a second time he did it after she'd said no. Devi looked really uncomfortable. And he never apologized, just blamed alcohol. how can you romantiise that??? shipping her with ben is fine but uhhhhhhhh that's fucked up

good lord, okay. if that scene bothers you, then it bothers you and i’m likely not going to change your mind about it any more than you’re going to convince me not to enjoy it. but the tone of this ask feels as though your trying to deem it problematic™ in order to feel like you’ve done your work reading the text critically and, like, look. i’m not going to say that your reading is incorrect. devi was uncomfortable. she removed herself from the situation, such was the gravity of her discomfort. but i also don’t think yours is the most genuine reading of the scene, if you wanna be honest. and hey, you came into my askbox, so you’re inviting my honest opinion.

consent is important. let’s start there. if ben were a more perfect person, he’d have asked if he could kiss devi before doing it. but the thing is, one of the main takeaways from the scene is that, far from perfect, ben is an awkward teen boy very much in his own head about his newly intense crush and his all-consuming loneliness. so he doesn’t ask the first time he leans in—he instead relies on the context clues of the birthday present and devi generally being cute and a little giggly to decide she might be into kissing. totally understandable. endearing, even, that ben and devi have this what-the-hell-i’ll-go-for-it kind of approach to crushing in common.

so, the second kiss. not as clean-cut i’ll grant you. devi’s body language and her words communicate that she’s Not Into It. but one of the things i personally find interesting about the scene is the way they’re on two very different pages the whole time. ben wants to unload about how much his parents suck, and devi didn’t exactly show up to the party to shoulder the burden of ben’s loneliness. she’s dealing with plenty of her own that she’s trying to ignore with a Traditional Popular Kid Experience, while ben’s trying to ignore his by hanging with his crush.

that said, ben wanting to kiss devi so badly that he misreads her “it’s cool” as an invitation rather than the placating gesture it is strikes me as well-motivated based on what we know about ben and as a very human thing to do. unflattering? totally. hard to look at directly for all the secondhand embarrassment? depends on your tolerance level. but messed up? i don’t feel the need to take it to that place.

more importantly, though, devi doesn’t feel the need. she tells him in no uncertain terms that him trying to kiss her is why she’s walking away, but she stops and listens to his apology that he pretty much immediately gives her. she trusts him enough to place herself in the extremely vulnerable position of moving in with him.

and sure, i’ll grant you that in both his apologies—because he does apologize and he does it twice, once immediately and then again when he sees her at school—he uses alcohol as a justification. but he’s clearly embarrassed and uncertain where they stand now. we’ve been shown the way that his dynamic with devi is a grounding force in his life; it makes sense that he’s a bit panic-stricken. when i’m flustered by my own shortcomings, i don’t give the best apologies, either. so the fact that his first and also most pressing instinct is to smooth things over, to me, speaks to his character in a good way.

tl;dr: i don’t feel the need to problematize ben’s behavior because devi was in control of the situation the whole time! but if the awkward mess that is those two interacting while wanting wildly different things isn’t entertaining to you, i do not begrudge you this!

anyway, thanks for thinking my tags are poetic that was nice

[trashcan-to-end-all-trashcans]

A TALE OF TWO ENGINEERS (part 1)

tadaaaa here it is my first ever scotty x reader story, i hope i did well on the accent. theres gonna be three parts of this; this one, a smutty one and one on the events after altamid. more notes are on the end ENJOY^^

This is set in between the time that the enterprise docks at Yorktown and leaves Yorktown for Altamid,

 As the enterprise began nearing Yorktown base scotty grew more nervous with each minute that passed “what if she doesnea like me? What if I am nae what she expected?” he thought. He had met you only two months ago through a forum created especially for engineers, he had read your paper about the engineering behind the Yorktown starbase and was simply fascinated by it. He had immediately contacted you and the two of you started talking, heck he even started to have feelings for you. Scotty sighed “if only I wasnae this old”.

 Yorktown base

“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP” Your alarm bleared loudly. With a sigh, you turned around to turn it off, when you looked at the time you were shaken wildly awake “fuck it’s already 11:00 I promised to meet scotty at 11:30” you jumped out of bed and ran to your closet it was a 15-minute walk from where you lived so you couldn’t waste any more time. You chose a gorgeous red dress that hugged your figure perfectly along with black gladiator style sandals, checking yourself one more time in the mirror you decided that you looked perfect.

 When you arrived at the docks the enterprise wasn’t there yet, but there was already a small crowd forming. Eagerly waiting to catch a glimpse of the flagship from the fleet, not that you could blame them. God that ship was magnificent, those beautiful ample nacelles and that powerful warp core. “scotty sure is lucky to work on that ship, l the things that I would do to even get to see her engine room” as you were thinking this the enterprise had arrived at the dock and was made ready for the gangway to attach so the personnel could leave the ship. Your phone beeped, you looked down to see Scotty’s name flashing on the screen “I sure hope ya ready for me lass” you smiled and texted back:” haha I’m ready when you are mr Scott ;)”

 He was sure this was it, this was going to be the moment that you saw him and ran away. “do nae think like that mont, Y/N would nevae be that shallow. Right?” while he was summing up all the reasons why you would run and never talk to him again, he was walking down the gangway. Ready to meet you for the first time, ready to meet the woman that had stolen his engineering heart with her paper. The gangway ended into an open space, the ceiling let the light trough that shone on the water above. Scotty looked around to see if he could find you and there you were, you were even more beautiful in person. Your red dress clung perfectly around your body, your H/C hair was caught in the artificial Yorktown wind and you looked like an angel. While Scotty was still gathering courage to go up to you and say hi, you turned around and found him staring at you. Chuckling you went up to him and extended your hand “Hi I’m Y/N you must be the famous Montgomery Scott” surprised the accepted your hand but instead of shaking it he gave it a chaste kiss “that’s right lass but you can call me Monty” the gesture made you giggle “you never giggle why did you giggle oh god what if he thinks I’m an idiot. Speak Y/N SPEAK” “Well if you insist then I suppose you should call me Y/Nick/N”.

 “and ya cannae believe what that Klingon scum said abot the enterprise” scotty said, “so ya must understand it was for my honor that I did have to punch him” he was watching your face while you laughed “god she looks so adorable while she laughs” dinnertime had arrived in Yorktown and because you were the only person scotty knew there, you had offered to take him to a restaurant of which you knew for sure he would enjoy. “well that Klingon must be the biggest idiot ever “you started “who calls the enterprise a piece of scrap that should be hauled away to the nearest junkyard” you started laughing again “I’m sorry scotty It’s just the picture of you punching a Klingon in his face” “lass as I have told ya almost three times today, call me Monty” he said with a wink. “sorry sorry I guess I’m just used to calling you scotty now, I mean these past two months have been really fun” “oh no here she goes, this is gonna be the part where she all blows it off and leaves me” scotty was completely lost in his thoughts spiraling down and down “and I just really like you, you know? I’m so sorry if this is totally inappropriate” that pulled him out of his thoughts “I know it’s soon and maybe you wouldn’t like the age difference, or the fact that I’m still working here on Yorktown although I do have put in a request to be transferred to a starship” you started rambling “wow wow hold on their lass, you like me? You like like me?” at that question you nodded to him “yes Monty, I like like you. I guess I have for a while now” “well that’s just great” scotty bellowed “excuse me? “you asked. Scotty put his hand your own one that had been lying on the table “I like ya too lass, very much so. What do ya say we get out of here to somewhere more private?” he almost whispered to you “well I’d say I would like that very much mr Scott”

thats it for now, let me know if you have a request for a story or want to be added to my scotty or my general star trek taglist

PART TWO!

tags:

@impalaanddemons @youre-on-a-starship @kaitymccoy123 @imanerdnota @webhoard

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Word Count: 2031 Author’s Note: So I have this personal headcanon that Bones loves filthy limericks, but he’s too much of a gentleman to share them unless he’s really, really intoxicated. This, coupled with his horrible flirting in Into Darkness, gave me this fic to share with you. tagging @youre-on-a-starship​ and @outside-the-government​ because they both expressed such interest in the idea.

You’d heard about the legendary shore leave shenanigans of the Enterprise crew, even before you’d been assigned to her. Rumour had it things got absolutely crazy on the first night, and tapered off from there, depending on your division. Operations was rumoured to party the hardest, partly to remind themselves they were alive, you guessed. You’d been told they remembered to toast their absent friends individually every night. Science was the next most likely to go on a prolonged tear, but you didn’t find that difficult to believe. Science held within it the Medical Corp, and you’d never met a nurse who wasn’t just a little bit wild. Additionally, the science labs were full of the kind of equipment that allowed bored officers to brew moonshine. That left Command as the Cinderella squad, destined to leave before the party really got started. But it was a comparative scale, really, and you suspected with a captain like Jim Kirk, the Command division wasn’t going to be leaving the ball before the fun started.

You’d been aboard for about six months when shore leave was announced, and you hoped your liver was up to the task. The gleam in Christine Chapel’s eye suggested it might not be.

“Come on, Doc,” she gestured to you. “We should find out what they’ve been cooking in the back of the lab.”

“I don’t know about this,” you replied, hesitant. She laughed and linked her arm in yours.

“First shore leave is always the worst. Just plan to alternate booze and water, and put a hypo at your bedside. You can step whoever you wake up with through giving it to you,” she winked.

“Whoever I wake up with?” You gaped. You hadn’t been on the ship long enough to make those types of connections.

“Think of it like a rite of passage, Y/N. Eventually, you’ll make a mistake and sleep with someone on this boat. You’re better off doing it sooner than later. And better to do it drunk on shore leave. Because then you can blame not knowing people better, and too much booze,” she explained. You shook your head.

“I don’t know, Chris, that seems pretty calculated.” You couldn’t help but blush just thinking about trying to seduce any of the crew you’ve met so far. There wasn’t really anyone who did anything for you. Well, there was one person. Who was completely off limits.

“You’ll thank me for this wisdom later, Doc.” She winked, and continued to lead you through the maze of the lab until you reached the very back. “Hey, Jameson, what’s cooking back here?”

“Would you believe I’ve managed a completely flavourless 100 proof coming out of the still right now?” Lt. Jameson grinned. “We’ll have to be very careful with it.” She offered a beaker to Christine who took a sip and tipped her head, her eyes wide.

“Oh, wow. That’s smooth,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “Try it, Y/N.” She pressed the beaker into your hand and you gave her a worried look as you tilted the glass to take a sip. It tasted like water, but it burned going down.

“Oh, that’s trouble,” you commented, garnering a laugh from both women. Christine clapped you on the back.

“Stick with me, Doc. I’ll make sure you survive,” she promised.

You checked your appearance one last time and frowned. It was nerves, you told yourself. Just nerves. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but your first shore leave with your new crew would solidify the new friendships you’d been making. You rushed to the door when your chime sounded, and let Christine in.

“You look like you’re heading to an execution!” Christine exclaimed, dismayed. “Y/N, honey, we’re here to have fun!”

“Just nervous, I guess,” you admitted. Christine slipped an arm around your shoulder and squeezed.

“Come on. We’re going to have so much fun you won’t remember where you left your pants,” she teased. You gave her a worried look, and she responded with a laugh. “Honestly, we need to get a drink into you, just to loosen you up to your normal level of function. Come on.”

It took three drinks before you relaxed, and you realized you were already on a dangerous precipice, teetering toward wildly intoxicated when you dropped down onto a loveseat beside Doctor McCoy.

“Well, if it isn’t my new superstar,” he chuckled, leaning back to assess you. “You haven’t been drinking that poison Jameson concocted, have you? Stuff should be illegal!”

“I might have had a couple,” you admitted. “I was nervous.” He shook his head and handed you the glass in his hand.

“Drink this instead. Alcohol should have some flavour, not just burn like the fires of hell as it goes down. That should slow you down.” He took your glass in exchange and coughed on the sip he took.

“You aren’t worried about germs?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Hardly. They haven’t discovered a germ that could live in that shit yet,” he laughed. You smiled, the interaction doing more to relax you than any of the drinks thus far. You took a sip from the amber liquid in the glass he’d given you, pleasantly surprised to find it was a subtle scotch. You held the glass out in salute, and were pleased when he clinked the one he’d taken from you against it.

“Cheers,” you grinned.

“To your first shore leave, kid,” he countered, taking another drink and flinching. “Come on, let’s go get something palatable.” He took you by the arm and lead you to the other side of the bar. The next few hours passed in a haze of dancing with the boss and drinking too much, but you recalled Chapel’s advice and started alternating with water once it became apparent you could not keep up with Bones. Which was pretty much right away.

“How did you learn to drink like this, Bones?” You asked as he signalled for a round of shots for those nearest you. He smirked at you, his eyes bright like he hadn’t even been drinking.

“I think my answer should have something to do with old and treachery, but the truth is I’m not dr-”

“Doctor McCoy!” Chekov interrupted. “Did you know zhat saying has its origins in Russia? It was first recorded in the old poem -”

“I have a poem for you,” Bones countered. “There once was a man named O’Toole, who found little red spots on his tool. His doctor, a cynic, said get out of my clinic, and wipe off the lipstick, you fool.”

You choked on your drink, and Bones clapped you on the back. “What the -”

“Zhe doctor has a reliable repertoire of filthy limericks, Doctor Y/L/N,” Chekov offered with a grin. “Zhey only come out vhen he’s been drinking though.” You stifled a giggle and glanced at Bones from the corner of your eye.

“And here I thought you were a fine southern gentleman,” you laughed. He smirked.

“I’m not sure if that’s sweet or naive, Y/N,” he chuckled. “But I’ll take it.” He pulled you out onto the dance floor again, and the limerick was forgotten in the crush of sweaty bodies as you danced. At one point Bones pulled you close, and you weren’t sure if it was to get you out of the way of some aggressive dancing, or a desire to actually hold you close, but your chests collided and you threw back your head and laughed.

“Tell me another dirty limerick, Bones!” You demanded, yelling above the thrumming bass. He shook his head, and pulled you against him so you could hear him. His hands stayed firmly at your waist, making you just a touch breathless.

“On the breast of a barmaid from Hale, was listed the price of the ale. And upon her behind, for the sake of the blind, was the same information in braille,” he spoke into your ear, giving your ass a swat as he recited it. You snorted and your hand came up to your face, embarrassed. He laughed at you, still holding you closer than was entirely necessary for the dance music.

“Come on now, you’ve got to know some really dirty ones,” you challenged him, leaning close. “Still waters run deep?”

“A pirate, history relates, was scuffling with some of his mates. He slipped on a cutlass, rendering him nutless, and pretty well useless on dates,” he offered, leading you off the dance floor and back to the seats you’d claimed earlier. You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, that was slightly racier, but still not dirty,” you countered.

“You’re going to force my hand, aren’t you?” He shook his head, but slipped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close so he could speak quietly in your ear. “A frigid young lass from Darjeeling, denied she had sexual feeling. Till a cynic named Boris just touched her clitoris and she had to be scraped off the ceiling.”

You pulled away with a gasp and started cackling. “Oh my god, you are the king!” He bowed his head slightly and winked. You stood up, and swayed, before promptly dropping back to your seat beside the CMO. “Well, shit.”

“Everyone has a first shore leave on the Enterprise story, kid,” Bones offered. “You can still stand. You’re probably not finished quite yet.”

“I think I’m plenty finished,” you retorted. “I’ve had flavourless booze, stolen your scotch at least three times, danced with at least three hundred other people on this dance floor, flirted with my boss unsuccessfully and learned he’s the master of the limerick. I think I should quit while I’m ahead, don’t you?”

He laughed and leaned close again. “You haven’t been completely unsuccessful, Y/N,” he argued. “A fine southern gent name of Bones, met a fellow doc who gave him a jones. Shore leave came, and he’s flirting again, hopes tonight he won’t sleep alone.”

“Did you just use a limerick as a pick-up line?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He winked.

“Chapel tell you lay out a hypo for your hangover in the morning?” He countered, changing the topic completely.

“What’s that have to do with anything?” You asked, curious why he was dodging the question.

“Maybe you should wake up with someone who already knows how to use it,” he suggested. You met his gaze and the same breathless feeling from the dancefloor hit you again. You blinked, and when you opened your eyes, he was still looking at you. “I haven’t missed that you’re interested, Y/N.”

“Well, that’s only marginally horrifying,” you cringed. He smiled and stood, offering his hand to help you to your feet.

“I might have been looking for the signs,” he admitted. “I should have realized you were a sucker for poetry.” He dropped an arm around your shoulder and led you through the crowd.

“I wouldn’t call limericks poetry,” you accused as you finally stepped outside into the fresh air of the clear night. “And I still think you’re holding out on the truly filthy ones.”

“Well, they get ruder with more alcohol,” he admitted. You stopped and turned to face him, narrowing your eyes.

“You aren’t as drunk as I am, are you?” You demanded. With the fresh air rushing through your lungs, you realized you weren’t as drunk as you thought you were either. “Wait, I’m not as drunk as I thought.”

“Darlin’, I’ve just barely started,” he admitted, a hand on the back of his neck. “I might not have wanted to forget this.”

“Oh.” You were at a loss as to what to say, and he leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. “Oh!”

“Though it was inappropriate and remarkable sin, the doc wanted to lick each inch of your skin. Was his anatomy rusty, or was he just lusty? To find out, just let him come in,” he murmured against your lips.

“Okay, I’m inviting you in, but only if you stop,” you laughed. His eyes crinkled at the edges and he leaned in to kiss you again.

“Thank god because I’m running out of material,” he laughed.