#0600

[epicsauce]

has anyone done this yet

[221177]

Woke early by the freezing -2 Celsius to see this full moon through the condensation on my bedroom window - it’s still dark #fullmoon #0600 #england #morning moon https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5alEQovRb/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bumblingbabooshka]

Voyager Crew invents the internet again but only on their ship and sometimes as a deal with other species they also give them brief access to their shitty little internet messaging boards 

[motecomic]

>Next

>Next

[angeltannis]

still thinking about when Ash said that Moze talks like an unemployed stoner rather than a highly-disciplined soldier

[brokejawranch]

tried transcribing this but holy fuck amc really did their best efforts making this shit illegible considering it’s the Singular closeup we have of troy’s journal while open

[ohfiveeight]

Like this post for interaction from Linda.

[epicsauce]

text conversation from my dream that i desperately wish was real

[boobsperv01]

[tunemyart]

hello I hear it is temporarily j7 request hours so! the finest vibes I am capable of producing while still never having watched any of voyager: early days getting to know each other, possibly over coffee?

a very AUGH solidarity, friend

Seven presented herself at the door of her quarters forty eight hours almost to the minute from the time Janeway had set her regeneration cycle. Janeway went through the motions - Seven; this is a surprise - but of course, it wasn’t. Janeway had been waiting for precisely this for forty eight hours. That Seven had anticipated that desire - well. Janeway couldn’t bring herself to be surprised by that much either. 

“You’re fatigued,” Seven observed. “Should I return after you’ve rested?” 

“No,” Janeway said, too quickly. “Please, stay for a minute.”

A minute - it wasn’t too needful a thing to ask, she hoped. Not when Janeway had faced an entire unexpected future devoid of Seven of Nine in the previous weeks; when she had jostled hard and constant against the rest of her senior staff’s newly apparent belief that this was always going to be the end that came about, tinged by their mild surprise that it had taken this long. The suddenness of both things had left her feeling alienated and alone in ways she’d never thought to anticipate. The inexplicable urge to stand in Seven’s alcove, still functioning for an occupant who no one else believed would ever come home, or that she even wanted to - oh, Kathryn had ached with missing her. 

It was the same urge at its root that had compelled Kathryn to steal compulsively into Cargo Bay Two three times in the last forty eight hours and watch her as she’d regenerated, safe, whole, home; and it was the same urge that now led to her blurting out, hand outstretched, “Wait.” 

Obliging, Seven stopped and turned back around. “Yes?” 

“I’m on the bridge tomorrow at 0630. Have breakfast with me - 0530?” 

Kathryn had reached a point where she could read entire volumes in the way Seven raised her eyebrow, and she was grateful for it now. “Acceptable,” she murmured a moment after her surprise had dissipated. “I will meet you there.” 

But there was a hint of an upward inflection at the end of her statement, just enough to request confirmation of both her intention and her reading of Kathryn’s request as something needier than what she was used to. Kathryn nodded - for one, for the other, for both, she didn’t care. The half-panicked way her chest had tightened at the sight of Seven walking away from her was subsiding - get a grip, Katie, she chastised herself firmly in her sister’s voice, rolling her eyes - and she echoed, “See you then. Good night, Seven.” 

—

Kathryn dreamed that night of Seven shrouded in green, half human, half machine. What do you want from me? she asks, and millions of voices ask with her. Captain, what do you want me to be? 

I want you to be you, she replies, aching, aching, but Seven’s face, ethereally beautiful even with its implants, more than Kathryn’s accustomed to seeing her with, twists in a howl that no one, not even Seven, voices. What do you want from me, Seven? Seven, tell me what you want, Seven - 

And Seven steps nearer, green, green, green, and reaches for Kathryn - 

Kathryn woke with a gasp and staggered out of bed. She ordered water from the replicator, which she gulped hastily, and struggled against the urge - that same damn urge - to go to Astrometrics, to Cargo Bay Two, to the infirmary, to wherever Seven had gone until she was shaking and exhausted and so, so alone in the confines of her room, the vastness of space. 

—

Seven arrived in the mess hall punctually the next morning - of course - but with a hesitation that Janeway could read, at least, that belied her usual semi-arrogant air of assuredness. She was quick to find the table Janeway had commandeered against the beginnings of the morning rush - perks of being the captain - and equally determined to ignore the not-so-surreptitious looks being thrown her way. 

“Don’t mind them, Seven,” Janeway felt compelled to say anyway. “We weren’t sure if we were going to see you again.” 

“They believed I had defected,” Seven said coolly - not a question. “As many of them had suspected I would from the beginning.” 

Seven was looking - well, exactly as she always did this morning, down to the efficient elegance of the French twist and the sleek contours of her purple biosuit. It was an immense comfort. But where Janeway’s breath caught instead was on the implants on her cheek, eyes, hands. 

Seven noticed - of course. “Are you well, Captain?” 

Janeway’s eyes flitted up to meet Seven’s blue ones. There was concern there. Days of insinuations that she didn’t know this woman, this Seven of Nine; days of unsubtle implications that she was under an enemy’s thrall, that she had been betrayed. And it all came down to this. She smiled lightly, tightly, and shook her head. “I’m fine. But Seven - for what it’s worth? I never had any doubt.” 

Seven didn’t reply. Kathryn retreated, unwilling to look too closely to see if Seven was simply moved or if she’d been made uncomfortable. “I’m going to go get more of whatever Neelix has that’s passing for scrambled eggs. Do you want anything?” 

“I have consumed sufficient nourishment,” she said, stiltedly enough that it could mean anything. But Seven surprised her - and apparently herself - when her hand shot out and grasped Kathryn’s. Her voice had relaxed significantly when she said, “Thank you, Captain.” 

Kathryn stared for a moment at the join of their hands, the metal that encased each of Seven’s deceptively delicate fingers - Seven of Nine, radiating green and reaching - and before she could think better of it, she twined their fingers together, firmly, briefly, and, also before she could think better of it, let go. 

“You’re welcome,” she said, too quietly. Seven’s lips had parted just slightly, just enough so that a new ache began to manifest in Kathryn’s chest, and a different panic clamped down hard around it, keeping it safe and secure and, more importantly, far from Seven of Nine.

"Now, I'm going to go see about those eggs."

—

eta: now cleaned up and here on AO3

[ayahimes]

i started doing this genshin quiz thinking it was like 11 questions and on question 8 i realized it's 76 questions ...

[georgemitran]

[iii-days-grace]

4:56 AM wheeeeee

one cat has bedhead

the other is hissing at me when I try to go back in the room

we’re all feeling the morning mood

[varric-tethras-editor]

i was writing but then some really good music came on and i got distracted by my great taste in chill/slow tunes and now i'm just vibing but it's way too late for the super packed day that i have tomorrow

[sallytwo]

i’m here with two friends and i’m close to both of them but they’re not close to each other EXCEPT 1 day and in their besties because they’ve united against my disciplined militaristic vacation attitude #nohonor

[sociallyawkwardsailor]

I have decided to review hotel soaps based on if bae do or do not like how they smell.

I normally forgo the (sometimes) fancy hotel soaps because a) I bring my own travel shit anyway and b) I have recently become a brand whore with my hygiene products *cough*.  

But since bae is accompanying me for the first time on this PCS journey, we decided to entertain ourselves by...his grumpy ass opining about the varying brands of hotel soaps.

Hotel:  Double Tree by Hilton in Charlotte, NC Bae do not like this soap.  He straight up turned his nose up at it, and says it smells like his mother’s fancy sitting room where she had friends “round for tea.”  Neither of us know wtf a verbena is, and there’s French on the packaging, so obviously this is some pinkies up brand that would judge me for drinking a Miller Lite in its vicinity.  

Anyway if you like this sort of nonsense, let me know and I’ll think of a tag for it.