#Chekov is fun to write

[thesconesyard]

Yeehaw!

When the Cactus Blooms

17. Roadrunner

By the next morning the fire had passed. Smoke could still be seen, but it was to the northeast of the ranch. Chekov shifted in his chair at breakfast. Something was different at the table and he didn’t know what it was. He looked over and caught Sulu’s eye. Finally his friend looked back and Chekov gave him a questioning look.

It clicked a moment later as he followed Sulu’s eyes looking pointedly at Mr. Scott and then the doctor. They had been the ones to report the fire the previous evening. Chekov wondered briefly where they had been before they had come back to the house, then he decided he didn’t want to know. And besides, from the light dancing in the doctor’s eyes as he looked over at Mr. Scott, Chekov really didn’t want to know.

“We’ll need to ride out in a while,” Jim said from the head of the table. “Make sure there aren’t any small fires still burning.”

“And if there’s someone out there?” Dr. McCoy asked.

“Well, we need to find that out anyway,” Jim said.

The doctor frowned. “Seems like a job for Pike and his men.”

“It’ll be fine Bones,” Jim waved him off.

“The canyon is long with many twists and turns; it would make a decent hideout for those who don’t want to be found,” Mr. Spock said.

Next to him Chekov sensed Jaylah grow tense. Before he could say something comforting to her the doctor spoke again.

“It’s alright sweetheart,” Dr. McCoy said gently. “We’ll find who did it.”

“Thank you Doctor,” Jaylah said and threw a grim smile at him.

Chekov gripped his fork tightly as he took his next bite, trying to control his expression and not glare at the doctor.

“The tracks I found are probably gone now,” Sulu said thoughtfully.

“Maybe it will be easier to find now,” Miss Uhura said. “The fire will have burned away shrubs and trees. Less places to hide.”

“I will go with you,” Chekov said quickly, looking up the table at Jim.

Jim looked back at him with a concerned face.

“Ok,” he finally agreed. “Anyone else?”

Sulu and Mr. Spock both volunteered.

Jim looked at the doctor and Mr. Scott with an amused smile. “You two don’t mind getting the rest of the work done?”

“Nae lad, it’s fine,” Mr. Scott said and smiled down the table at Dr. McCoy.

Chekov caught a knowing smile on Miss Christine’s face.

“I can help,” Jaylah spoke up.

“I’m not sure if—”

“Please?” Jaylah asked, turning to look at the doctor’s protest. “I can work.”

Dr. McCoy looked at her for a long moment in silence.

“Let her,” Keenser finally said into the silence.

“Alright,” the doctor relented. “But try to stay out of the sun and if you feel tired, you rest.”

Jaylah nodded. “I promise.”

Chekov lifted his hat and wiped at his forehead. They were spread out trying to cover as much ground as possible. Sulu was off to Chekov’s left, distant, but still close enough to hear if one of them called out. Mr. Spock and Jim were to his right.

The fire had burned a wide swath, and the ground below his horse was blackened. All the bushes, the weeds, the few grasses and trees were the same. From a few spots smoke still rose, but each time Chekov got close there was no remaining flame.

It was a good few miles to the canyon, but they didn’t hurry. A strange lump in a tree caught Chekov’s attention, and he urged his horse towards it. From horseback, it was easy for him to look as he got close. He let out a soft noise when he did. It was the remains of a nest. Chekov looked around himself as if the parent birds would fly at him for peeking, but no birds sang anywhere nearby.

Four cracked and blackened eggs sat in the blackened nest. Chekov muttered a curse under his breath. A tragedy and a waste was a fire across the land like this.

Before too much longer they reached the canyon and Jim called them all together again.

“There are tracks here,” said Mr. Spock.

Jim’s hand patted the gun hanging at his hip, but he shook his head.

“No telling how many. We’ll have to tell Pike and come back. Four of us could be outnumbered.”

Chekov secretly agreed in his heart. He had no desire to fight anyone, but he would if pressed. And if it was the gang who had attacked Jaylah’s family, he would gladly take them on. They had to know if her family was safe.

They stuck closer together for the ride back, closer to where Chekov had ridden. He noticed a fluttering around the tree with the burnt nest. It took form as he got closer. A roadrunner.

“Oh,” he exclaimed to himself. “Poor thing.”

“That a roadrunner?” Sulu asked next to him, squinting forward.

“It’s nest burned,” Chekov said sadly. “Four eggs.”

The bird was scrambling around the base of the tree and crying out. If it noticed the four men and horses approaching it didn’t care.

“Wonder where it’s mate is,” Sulu said.

“It’s like Jaylah,” Chekov suddenly said. “It’s missing its family.”

Sulu looked at him and slowly nodded.

“Is it hurt?”

Chekov shrugged and stopped his horse. He hopped down and handed the reins to Sulu. Carefully he approached the tree and the roadrunner.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I’m sorry your family is gone.” He moved slowly closer. The bird cocked its head at him. Chekov held his palms out to the bird. He crouched as he stopped a couple feet from the tree.

“What’cha- oh,” Jim said as he and Mr. Spock caught up.

To Chekov’s surprise the roadrunner moved towards him and turned its head, examining his hands.

“We’ve lost family too,” he continued in his soft voice. “I’m sorry for what happened to yours.”

The bird regarded him for another moment, then jumped onto his arm.

“Oh!”

“You’ve got a friend,” Sulu laughed.

Carefully Chekov brought his other hand over and touched the roadrunner. It ducked its head at his face, gave a shake, then jumped off and ran away as quick as it could. Two feathers were left behind drifting to the ground in front of Chekov. He picked them up carefully and stood. The bird was already a dot in the distance.

“That was something,” Jim said.

Chekov made an acknowledging noise as he tucked the two feathers into his pocket and smiled. He already knew what he wanted to do with the feathers.

[chaotic-major]

Call me a casual, but Chekov’s gun is honestly so fun sometimes and can be really sneaky if used right.

[topnotchquark]

Uhhhh you guys want some Bezz x Cele fluff? Because I wrote 1800+ words of Bezz x Cele fluff. Yes it's Boarding School au man wtf we live in a society of course I wrote the Boarding school au.

----------------------------------------------------

Bezz pokes at the scab just above his knee. It's freshly formed, he had absorbed impact from Pecco running into him on the field during practice yesterday. His kneepads had mostly protected him but caused the skin to rub off at that particular spot.

Bezz had always had the habit of picking at his wounds, more out of boredom than anything else. When Cele was around, he would simply ask him to stop torturing his own body like a little moth in the hands of a rambunctious toddler, but Cele had been away for three days from school for a family thing. The wedding of some distant cousin combined with some medical check that Cele needed in the city. His dad had come to pick him up and Bezz had walked with him to drop him off and to say hello to Cele's dad.

3 days shouldn't feel like a lot and Bezz had a thousand different things to do, what with the upcoming national level games season and schoolwork dictating his every minute, but he still thought about Cele. He missed sitting next to him for all meals, he missed Cele coming upstairs to see him after lights out, he missed how he would agree without much resistance when Bezz wanted to sneak out at night, he missed Cele foraging for fruits in the woods and bringing them back for everyone to eat, he missed running into him in the corridors during classes, and of course he missed him on the field because Jaume was too young to be a good practice session replacement for the team. 

Bezz is about to wreck carnage absent mindedly on his wound when Luca comes out of the phone room and pats Bezz on the shoulder.

The boys get to call home twice a week from a room divided into little booths, the attendant in the room sat there to note your name down and tell you to put the phone down when your time was up.

Bezz makes his way to the booth in the far left corner that Luca just left, he nods to Pecco in the other corner who is on call and dials his dad's number that he knows by heart. They talk about his preparation for the upcoming season and his dad tells him about things in the garage, next he calls his mum and she asks him about school and classes and practice and his little sister screams a quick hello to him and when he keeps the phone down with quick exchanges of "work hard" and "miss you" and "I love you" his heart feels a bit wonky. It's been years away from home but he still hasn't fully learnt how to squash that feeling.

Before keeping the phone down he makes a split second decision and calls Cele's mom, another number he knows by heart for some reason.

"Oi Bezzechi, you've been hogging that phone forever, put it down!!" The attendant shouts at him, his brows furrowed.

"Yes sorry please please please just one moment" Bezz quickly pleads as he waits for the line to connect. The attendant tells him to make it quick as Cele's mom answers. She sweetly asks Bezz how he's been doing as she calls Cele over to hand him the phone.

"Marco, is everything okay?" Cele's newly matured voice implores. 

"Uhh yes why wouldn't it be?"

"You're calling from school."

"Ah. Yes yes. Just wanted to tell you to, uhhh, yeah come back soon cele practice isn't great"

"Is Jaume not good"

"No no he's fine. Just. You know......"

"Hmmm. I get it. Listen Bezz, I need you to help me okay I have some stuff with me when I get back okay"

"Yeah sure. Listen I gotta go okay this man will cancel all my calls for the next month okay. I miss you, bye."

"I, uhh, I miss you too Marco, bye"

Bezz doesn't spend too much time thinking about Cele's request. He's probably sneaking some food into the dormitory which isn't allowed and the weird luggage checking procedure makes it so that you just have to be extra careful with the contraband.

The next day when Bezz comes down to dinner after practice and evening study he finds Cele already in the dining hall. He hurries over to him and immediately wraps him into a hug, slapping his back and ruffling his curls.

"I thought you wouldn't be here till tomorrow! Who dropped you off?"

"My cousin, he was on his way back to University so I came back early. Listen, Marco......"

Whatever it is that Cele wanted to tell Bezz is cut off by Pecco, Luca, and Franco gathering around him and asking him how was home and he better be up to speed for the morning practice tomorrow and what did the doctor say and if he found any cute girls at the wedding.

All throughout dinner Bezz notices Cele fidgeting nervously, pushing his food around as Luca talks about the rival regional teams they will be facing and the specific characteristics of every player he can recall.

Post dinner, the boys walk back to their house building in a group, Cele quickly dipping into the dormitory on the first floor as the rest make their way up to the rooms.

Before Bezz can go back downstairs to ask Cele what's up, Pecco reminds him to finish his trig homework lest he be skinned alive by the teacher and Bezz enlists the help of both Luca and Pecco to get through the exercises.

It's an hour past lights out when Bezz is finally done and before he has a moment to lie down Cele comes into the room. His eyes look a bit crazy and the pockets of his jacket are puffed up weirdly but before Bezz can ask any questions Cele starts yanking at his arm to get up.

"hurry up Marco!!!" Cele hisses, straining to keep his voice low

"Okay okay damn let me put on my shoes"

"Take the torch please" cele whines.

Bezz raises his brows but doesn't protest much. Torches are reserved for the big expedition sneak outs, the ones you have to plan for, the ones away from their usual haunts, torches are a liability, they draw the attention of the school guards. Bezz still takes his and hides it in his pocket.

They silently get out through the windows on the ground floor, holding their breath and watching their step so as not to alert the guards. Bezz has been sneaking out since pretty much his first year in school, so much so that he can navigate most paths in pitch black darkness. When Cele and Bezz became friends he started bringing him along, gently teaching him to be mindful of his arms and head and stepping around in a way that makes less noise. Cele wasn't the most graceful when it came to slinking around, but Bezz was okay with that as long as they were together.

The moon was shining above their heads, almost fluorescent in its brightness.  Bezz glances over at Cele's determined face, his lashes casting spider leg shadows on his cheeks. Cele's pale skin and dark hair seem almost ghostly and Bezz's heart feels so funny. He swallows to keep his wits intact and focus on the path.

"Wait Cele are we walking towards the lake?" Bezz realises that he's been straining a bit to keep up with Cele.

"Mhmmm"

"Wait wait wait no you have to tell me what's up you've been acting too weird."

"No Marco we can't talk here we will get caught please we have to go" Cele pleads with him and suddenly takes Bezz's hand in his to rush him along. Bezz feels too shocked at Cele's sudden gesture and simply can't find the words to protest. They walk for a few minutes where all Bezz can think about is the warmth of Cele's soft hand in his. Bezz thinks self consciously about the calluses on his palm and whether they feel weird for Cele to touch. Cele's plam, soft and smooth and warm and alive and real to the touch and somehow Bezz feels that whatever is real in him is emanating from that part of his body that is holding on to Cele.

"Here. Come." Cele lets go of Bezz's hand Bezz feels a little deflated. Cele walks near a tree and picks up a cardboard box and brings it to Bezz.

"I have rabbits."

"......you...what" Bezz thinks he hasn't heard him right. 

"There were rabbits at the wedding venue but I don't think they were being treated right so I picked them up"

"Cele what even.... how did you even steal them and oh my god is this area even safe"

"I didn't steal them Marco!!!!! They are young, kind of, I think they are almost babies, it was just three of them"

"Diobono three is a lot! Have they eaten?"

"I had left some lettuce, and I have more, I need your help feeding them"

"Okay okay fine, let's find a place to sit"

Bezz finds that inside the cardboard box there is a little pet carrier covered with a blanket. Cele pushes in some food through the metal gate grills but the bunnies seem to be asleep for now. 

"What's the plan cele?"

"There archery lawns have a place for rabbits. I will leave them there. I trust the school gardener, we used to have rabbits in my first year at school, he's good with them."

"You think nobody will notice three rabbits appearing out of nowhere."

"They will but they won't know it's us"

Bezz can't help smiling at the response. Cele trusts it will all be good so intently that Bezz can't help be infected by the same disposition.

"Do you want to hold them?" Cele offers.

"Uhh yeah okay yeah."

"Just be relaxed, okay"

Cele opens the metal grate a little and ushers Bezz to put his hand inside.

A warm delight runs through Bezz when he touches the soft fur. He feels them moving with their breath and gently gently strokes the fur. A smile breaks out on his face, wide and luminous under the moonlight.

"It's nice, no" Cele says as he watches Bezz's face.

"Yes, I didn't expect them to be this soft"

They sit a bit longer, trying to feed the bunnies, talking, trying to come up with stories about these rabbits that will convince people to keep them. 

Bezz asks Cele to hold on to the box and make no noise as he navigates a path to the Archery Lawns. Cele takes a minute to leave them in the enclosure, worrying about them. Bezz's reassurance a little ineffective as he says his goodbyes, leaving more lettuce and some broccoli in the carrier.

When they finally start walking back towards the Dorms, Bezz takes Cele's hand in his, his confident decisive gesture in sharp contrast with the nerves he feels inside. Cele offers no protest and holds on. Bezz feels breathless thinking about how similar Cele's beautiful hand feels to the soft rabbits he just held a while ago. 

[mkstrigidae]

Apparently, the solution to my APWH writer's block was just opening up a new word document and rewriting the whole damn next chapter.

[illululusion]

I have not been normal about nerdy prudes must die since it came out so it seems its time for me to write my analysis of 'the summoning'.

I will put a cut down here because holy shit i did not think i was this normal about them this is long. also spoilers for nerdy prudes must die!

Now the summoning is what I would consider the climax of the show.* The scene answers the big questions of the show. Not by just stating the answer like the mayor does, it shows us. it also shows us the oh so beloved oh moment of Steph knowing she loves Peter.

The scene also uses some form of chekov's gun multiple times.

We've been told that the school was built at what used to be a black altar. this scene shows what such a black altar allows someone to do. especially in combination with the book.

A literal chekov's gun, the gun Grace stole and then Steph got is heavily implied to be used. (finally)

As i've stated before the love situation. We knew Steph and Peter had something going for them but this only confirms it.

THE PHONE! Steph thinks her phone is the thing she cherishes most, which is not a big stretch, we've seen her be willing to suffer injury to protect her phone. (a lovely little detail)

they setup Grace using the book against dirty dudes.

I may be missing something whoops but yeah,

now the scène itself has a lovely buildup. First the three are in very low energy summoning the lords in black. The frightened energy is just seeping out of them, you know this is their last resort. Then the lords in black appear, from a pure darkness, with a high energy slightly discordant song (the piano and the guitar clash a slight bit). This stands in contrast with the slow piano music under the teens throughout the scene. Within this song the lords in black seem unsurprised by the situation, they seem elated even. They also clearly state they are not forces of good at most they can be considered gray ("us spawn of the Black and White") however the other pieces of lyrics are very much against that assumption.

Let's look at some of the dialogue a bit more closely why not? I wont be looking at all of the dialogue because thats a bit too insane even for me.

"Out of the depths of Hell and back" Us spawn of the Black and White" "Cover our souls with robes of black" "And take up the arms of night"

This seems to me even like they chose to be in the black, they are from hell they're from the night.

"Nibbleline wants his sacrifice And Wiggly wants his wrath We dance around the pentagram And take all our kingdoms back"

The previous shows intent: sacrifice, wrath, getting what they deserve.

"You summon us once you summon us twice, You gamble it on a roll of the dice"

Now this is what predicts Grace's dirty dudes must die. it also seems to imply that Steph's father among others used the book foolishly, the chance of victory seemed to outweigh the risks.

"The devil has won it can't be undone The book has all but closed on your life"

Shows that the lords know the teens are in no position to bargain. They know theyre above them.

Wiggly: Don't be so formal, Stephie. We're all paly-wals here. I mean, look at us. We even hold court in your own tongue and form. Go Nighthawks! (Lords in Black laughing) Pokey: Our true forms would melt your minds. WIggly: Don't frighten them, Pokey, you nasty boy.

This is what we'll see more in this scene wiggly is the medium between the will of the lords in black and the teens. An interesting detail. This also seems to be Wiggly trying to make the teens be less guarded. THeyre showing some sort of "goodwill", like "hey we could easily kill you but we're throwing you a rock let's see what can happen.". Additionally, this also shows them being more powerful than the teens again.

"The Lords in Black will help you yes You stupid silly girl Why help you with the Jagerman When we can help the world!"

Once again a show of power, why even ask for help they're already there just show them what you can give them. They have got all the time for anything, theyre more powerfull than just stopping that jagerman.

"Steph: What about a bargain? We'll give you whatever you want. Just get rid of Jagerman!"

A show that the teens have no other choice. THe fact they have heard the lords in black say theyre from hell doesn't matter anymore. They're at a low point.

"Whatever we want we want we want Whatever we want we get Whatever you want you want you want Forever in our debt"

no other way to say this other than: "you fucked up kids"

Wiggly: "Oh, you'll hardly miss it. We just want what you cherish most."

hmmm understatements are fun. I love these paradoxical statements.

Wiggly: One of you must give up the thing you treasure above all else. Pokey: Do it, or die!

Once again a lovely power statement, though that's not what I found interesting. The interesting part about this is that they only ask for ONE of them fo give up what they cherish most. They could ask for way more, they've made that clear. So why ask for only one thing?

"We don't give a shit about your phone"

This is the one moment I feel like the lords in black loose their composure. My hypothesis? they don't like people lying to themselves when something is very clear.

"The Lords in Black the Lords in Black call us"

The chorus sing the lords in black call us, WHO ARE THE CHORUS I NEED TO KNOW.

"Out of the depths of hell and back Us spawn of the black and white Cover our souls with robes of black And take up the arms of night You summon us once you summon us twice You gamble it on a roll of the dice La la la la la la la la la la The devil has won it can't be undone The book has all but closed on your life"

JUSt one thing: A lovely circular closure to the scene.

OKAY thats the dialogue wooooo (theres more to be said about it probably but also I just My brain want to get to the next part.)

Okay Okay okay okay now for the fun part!

The lovely staging and costume and its so wonderfull.

So in the above image we can see the lords in black as well as the teens. As i've stated before the lords in black like to make a show in power and the dynamics are very much powerless vs. allpowerfull.

Now what the positioning on the stage does is show this contrast as well. The lords in black are all over the stage standing, moving, dancing. High energy high standing. This while the teens are sitting on the floor, all together, they're as small as they can be in this setting. This shows how little power they have at this point.

The lighting as well as the costumes adds a lot as well:

See the teens here? no special lighting aside from the effects of the lords. This is in incredible contrast with the lords. colourful and bright. This is similarly the case with their costumes, the teens all have quite plain clothes, nothing special for a costume definitely, we do have the more unique clothing to define each character** but that falls away once you look at the lords:

Wiggly: bright green light (so much fun green isnt used in stage lighting often i am in love), Green clothing, a suit with glossy pants a crown and of course the wiggly doll in the back.

Nibbly: SO PINk, but also fleshy pink somehow. the lighting isnt as obvious but it is still pink. here the sparkes return. The giant lolly. just the giant lolly.

Blinky: Interesting choice to have the face as obscured as it is. once again i cant say the lighting is very obvious but it is there. The purple orange colour contrast makes them stand out. when in comparison to the others his costume isnt as showy.

Tinky: HOLY SHIT THE EYESHADOW. which isnt visible because.... yes the lighting! yellow lighting! the outfit isn't as sparkly but because it is the brightest outfit of them all I doubt that would have been neccesary. It keeps the balance. I am also Biassed I love this getup.

Pokey: once again: LIGHTING! blue! but also, Pokey I feel is the least obvious lord in black in the scene, the positioning on the side of the stage across from Tinky the yellow and blue contrast how fun. especially as Wiggly (green) is in the middle. just so good.

I just wanted to add some more because look at how wiggly is so much higher in this scene, he needs to look down on the teens, but doesn't do that often, not even bothered to look at them wow. Also quick note wiggly seems the most bothered by the summoning, wonder why.

And whenever all of the lords are singing with their discordant choreography, the lighting goes all disco and far brighter. A great detail to show they're individuals but are similar. see how the light is not green here? yeah that happens whenever all of the lords are speaking.

All in all I think Nerdy prudes must die is now in my top three favourite starkid shows. and I will be using the lords in black as inspiration in the play I'm in currently as well because this is exactly the type of thing we were looking for. and also I am not going to be able to think about anything but this show for ages.

I highly encourage anyone to give their opinions or whatever they noticed because I need it I would love to hear them. GO NIGHTHAWKS!

1* Now this comes at a relatively late time in the (already very long) show. At the 2 hour point we've been following our dear cast for around 4/5ths of the show. Now keep in mind this is doesn't matter much, but I think it's interesting that they chose to have the climax at this point. The play being as long as it is means they had to have been very confident in their ability to keep the viewers attention and especially with the slow buildup.

2** OH MY GOODNESS I JUST REALISED HOW WELL STEPH AND PETER's PALLETTES WORK TOGETHER. like theyre both earth tones. the green and brown fit together so well, and then you also have the patterns, different but still similar enough to not clash.

[homunculus-argument]

The absolutely most fun with doing comics, that you can't really do with writing, is being able to throw in as much background detail and other random shit as your heart desires without compromising the flow of storytelling. With writing, everything you write in is either adding to the story, or distracting from the story - you're specifically pointing every single word to the reader, and if describing something is important, you kind of have to halt the entire plot to focus on it.

With comics, you can pour in as much as you like, you don't need to pause everything to make sure that the reader notices the Chekov's Gun on the wall, it'll just be there among other background filler. You can liven up a boring Characters Stand Around Talking scene by having someone knock over an oil vase and someone else slip on the oil on the background. Readers choose the pace they'll read in, and the amount of detail they want to take in.

I'm having fun drawing a scene where the heroine dramatically announces that she actually despises the fiancé that her uncle chose for her. The uncle goes straight into "I don't fucking care if you hate him, you're marrying him because I said so", while the fiancé himself is standing wordlessly in the background, going on a silent face journey through the entire five stages of grief, like "hold on the fuck you mean she hates me, I thought she wanted me to kill her ex for her."

[soaps-mohawk]

How are people thinking she’s pregnant???? Like I’m so sorry but Dr Keller literally spells out what’s gonna happen when Price talks to her in this chapter???

Sorry for the spoilers if people haven’t read the new chapter but they’re worried about her heat coming before she can recover from her pseudo heat so obviously the pseudo heat stops right before pre heat hits. This is a fairly common narrative tool called chekov’s gun where any element introduced should be relevant to the plot with the classic example being that if a gun is shown then it must later go off. Typically it’s used more in film than writing where some details are simply worldbuilding but that’s the fun of reading (to me at least) figuring out what’s information you’re supposed to remember

It's been discussed several times in the fic and the lore masterlist 🤷‍♀️ not to mention all the times I've said there's not going to be pregnancy in the fic.

Exactly. It's not like the reader's heat is a new concept. We've been through all of this before. Almost exactly. The extreme hunger was the first symptom of her pre-heat about fifteen chapters ago or so. Like yeah, that's a long time ago and yeah, you can't expect everyone to remember those details, but like...context, people. I've said so many times there won't be pregnancy in the fic. Obviously it's not that. Process of elimination. Pregnancy is out, so we look at the timeline. It's been quite a few weeks since her last heat, and again, I've beat into the ground how often heats happen for omegas. Oh yeah, we're probably close to that happening. I wonder what could be going on 🤔 oh, maybe it's her pre-heat starting.

[ratasum]

So about that big rewrite with @wall-legion. (Spoilers and some salt ahead, and significant changes.)

Again, as per usual, keep in mind that we're doing this based on personal opinion. If you enjoyed your time, I'm INCREDIBLY happy for you! But we did not.

Zojja isn't the one who goes to the wizards (at least not at first). I've mentioned before that Jenn and I had been treating it like she'd been There All Along the last eight years, and we're not changing that.

Instead, since in our plot Logan dies for real in Arah, he's the one in Wizlandia. He got picked up after being left there with the intention of people returning to get his body. The assumption is that he got awakened or something. Turns out that's not the case!

Zojja has some roles in the other plots that I'll write out when I get around to actually writing cohesive fic stuff, but it's limited bc of chronic pain and fatigue from what she went through in Maguuma. She's doing her best, but still struggling with what she's no longer able to do. Which leads to her vanishing in the middle of the night roughly a month before SotO starts.

Odetta and Leyya eventually find the letter she received from Logan, leading them on the goose chase that takes them to Wizlandia as well. Plot roughly follows canon from here in points, with Logan in Zojja's role and Zojja present and Mabon mentoring her to unlock more of her magic.

Mabon lives! He also gets some of his memories back because of the possession, and he starts spilling the beans. He keeps mentoring Zojja despite his apprehension with Isgarren, who starts helping in the convergences, and she starts getting pressured towards ascension as well... genuinely considering it because she's so tired.

All those loaded Chekov's Guns about the fractals and how horrific and unethical they were, the wizards never stepping in even when the world is at risk (Void?? hello??), and Isgarren's seeming lack of care for anything outside of the Kryptis gets tied up. How? He, Eparch, and Vass had a shitty breakup and Isgarren is obsessed with "punishing" him for his supposed betrayal over Vass's death. There's some JUICY DEETS here I'll go into later.

Galrath is replaced. Because why the FUCK is he even there???? We killed him to keep him OUT of the wizard's tower in GW1.

Anyway Isgarren tries to genocide the kryptis to "keep Tyria safe," leading to a big kerfuffle and a final fight with him. He ends up killed right before we fight Eparch and kill him. Peitha gets made king!

Logan decides to ascend in the end and stay with the wizards. He knows he can do well here, and everyone thinks he's dead anyway. Dagda takes on Isgarren's role. She also gets to learn she shouldn't tie her worth and willingness to exist to one person and stops trying to cling to the memory of the kodan and wrap up Zojja.

Lyhr leaves to find his partner. He may return to the wizards eventually, but he needs to do this.

Zojja decides to stop trying to be better and to work within her means. She also decides she's going to burn the system in Rata Sum to the ground, but needs time to plan. Opts to go back to Lion's Arch for now.

The wizards agree they can no longer stay in their tower doing nothing. They start reaching out more to core Tyria. No hiding anymore. If they're going to protect the world... they need to be part of it.

And unrelated to any of that, the Rata Novus fractal is now the Thaumanova city cube.

But yeah, we're gonna have fun with this.

[t0ast-ghost]

S2 Episode 8 (I, Mudd) Garfield guess who’s here? Please tell me it’s not Mudd. It’s Mudd.

Commence:

- Why are him and Spock just walking the halls together. If I was the crew I’d be going livid, like get this: there’s these two men who are head of the science and medical staff on the ship and they fucking hate each other, they fight all over the ship constantly and you’ve seen them at odds a gazillion times. One day you’re walking the halls to get to your station and you just see them walking together, talking normally, and one of them is even smiling in a sort of fond way. My jaw would drop honestly

- They’re already fighting.. it took less than 30 seconds

- This guy’s on a mission! I wonder who he could be?

- “Mr. Spock we seem to be taking an unscheduled ride” “Interesting.” Spock does not give a fuck about your dramatics, Kirk

- Spock looks at the guy who stops Kirk and just thinks “fuck, McCoy was right.”

- LMAO the electronics in him look like smt from doctor who

- I love Uhura and Chekov almost bumping into the android

- oh god this guy again (Mudd)

- “Jamie boy.” That- that barely even makes sense

- Kirk what is that stance

- “And you’re all going to be here, uh, quite probably for the rest of your lives. *evil laugh*”Spock and McCoy are unconcerned

- Okay I think McCoy is just lording it over Spock that he was right

- Okay there’s a certain joviality that I appreciate to the back and forth of Mudd explaining and Kirk, McCoy, and Spock all interrupting

- this is the greatest line in all of Star Trek

- Kirk: Well, opinions?

Chekov: I think we’re in a lot of trouble

Kirk: That’s a great help, Mr. Chekov. Bones?

McCoy: Well, I think Mr. Chekov’s right. We are in a lot of trouble

Kirk: Spock? And if you say we’re in a lot of trouble…

Spock: We are.

Kirk then gets the most defeated look on his face

- Scotty coming in hot and cursing out Mudd

- CHEKOV DONT FUCK THE ANDROIDS

- Kirk is like an angry small dog

- “No, lord Mudd.” “Wuuut??” Good line delivery

- “How do you know so much?” “I asked them.” “Oh.” Wait wait wait, this is simple deduction. Deduction? Sherlock. Holmes and Watso? MCCOY AND SPOCK AS HOLMES AND WATSON!!! Oh wait Data and Geordi did that..

- “Now listen, Spock, you may be a wonderful science officer, but believe me you couldn’t sell fake patents to your mother!” “I fail to understand why I should care to induce my mother to purchase falsified patents.” I love this man

- The name is doctor practice. Mal practice.

- uhura no! WAIT UHURA YES IM SO PROUD. I love how happy they all are

- hi hello what the fuck is happening. What are they celebrating. How did Kirk convince McCoy and Scotty to do that?

- The androids flirting with Spock. Kirk and the rest have to dance whereas Spock is just causing drama “I love you. But I hate you.” “But we’re identical.” *blows up*

- They’re gonna paradox Norman

- WJAT

- Them imitating phasers takes the cake. I think if I ever show anyone an example episode it would be this one

- “he’s dead.” Damn no Jim. Second time Scotty’s ‘died’ this season

- This is like watching Shakespeare

- I would not be surprised if this episode was inspired by children playing make believe (honestly really genius and fun writing)

- Oooh they’re paradoxing him

- “I aM nOt prOgrAmMeD to reSpoNd in thAt aRea.” The fucking sass. Kirk has been spending too much time with Spock and Bones

- “Which I find eminently satisfactory, Doctor, for nowhere, am I so desperately needed as among a shipload of illogical humans.” Basically Spock loves them and there’s nowhere he’d rather be

- Kirk hates Mudd so much, it’s almost bitchy at this point

- Uhura’s wave to Mudd is so iconic and amazing

Okay one of my favourite episodes, if not my favourite actually. I loved more of the bridge crew interaction (no sulu☹️) especially getting to see Uhura, like I wanna talk more about her character but there’s so little that I’m just trying to pick up the crumbs.

Masterpost

Episode written by Stephen Kandel

[midnight-mourning]

Good morning, mourning! is it possible for you to show us how you make an outline for writing a chapter sometime in the future? like what does your first rough rough draft look like?🤔

also whats your favorite vine/meme at the moment?🫣

Hi pip!!

I can actually show you RIGHT NOW as I keep all my outlines (for the most part) saved in their respective chapters

*added a read more post-answering bc this got LONG lol*

So, it's sometimes a bit dependent on the fic, what I'm writing at the time, and where I'm at in the process. I usually have two different methods I stick to and typically combine in some manner:

bulleted list of important scenes/ideas to expand out upon from there (typically how I start out ideas for oneshots)

big blurb paragraph of a flow of ideas from start to finish (typically how I start out chapter-based fics, and what I do for Confused Spirit)

From there, I'll then combine the two methods in some way if it's a oneshot, and if I'm struggling to get the words flowing for a chapter-based fic, I'll use the list to expand out upon things I wrote originally. For example, this was ch. 34's outline (spoilers for those who haven't read it yet):

and then the list I added once I got started properly, which I crosssed out as I went along. Fun fact, you can see where I hit a moment of greatness in that last bullet and the chapter came together as a whole from there:

the blacked out is things I've pushed back for later (or just general spoiler stuff), so you can see that inital plans and even those I make WHILE writing the chapter are still subject to change as I go into actually writing it. Another good example would be from ch. 32:

in this case, I went back and added to the original outline (I think you can tell where lmao) and didn't utilize a list

I'd love to find chekov's gun, bc that one was REALLY good if I'm remembering correctly but I think it's buried somewhere in the Dialogue Dump unfortunately 😔

Adding on to that, I write a lot of scene ideas/mainly dialogue for things that happen in the future as the ideas don't typically come to me in chronological order. the party from 33? like a month into writing the story. the team meeting Michael? mid-arc 2. Chekov's gun? the start to midway point in the first couple days of writing and then basically finished within by the middle of august (started in July for those that don't know)

My point being that there's a lot of things that I have saved for certain arcs/plot points that I then insert into their proper place in the story once I find where that is. For arc 3 in particular I took the approach of gathering all the dialogue i KNOW was going to be in the arc, wrote my lil blurbs for all the chapters, and then started placing them accordingly. stuff has (and probably will continue to) gotten shuffled around, but for the most part has stayed in their original places.

a rough rough draft beyond that is basically adding to those base scene ideas (sometimes in order, sometimes not) typically writing dialogue and then filling in the blanks from there! sometimes if I'm lucky I can write a chapter from (mostly) start to finish in a span of four hours or so but that's only when i'm REALLY cookin'

Sorry for the super long winded response, didn't realize how much I wrote until I did it 😅

TL;DR, blurb of ideas, organize those ideas/add to them or adjust, full send it from there (with the potential help of some dialogue along the way)

As for my fav vine/meme currently? Probably the lump fish guy, everytime someone says 'very mindful, very demure' (I am not on tiktok so I do NOT understand this one) I instantly think 'very beautiful, very powerful'

thanks so much for the lovely ask!!! <3 <3 <3

[musewrangler]

20 Questions for Writers

Thank you for the tag @ladysongmaster! I can't recall if I've done this one before!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 137

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 3,126,209

3. What fandoms do you write for? Star Wars ninety percent of the time. A smattering of Hornblower, one for Narnia, one in Silverado, getting into some original work as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Mirjahaal

Bajur

He Who Sheds His Blood With Me

Forging Ahead

I Felt You In My Bones

5. Do you respond to comments?

As much as possible. Made a resolution to do so more quickly xD

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hm. I tend to like happier endings and put all the angst in the middle. xD So...ponders. I think it's a short one from one of my Star Wars collections called 'And a Child Shall Lead Them'.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I have a lot of those I'm glad to say. But the most joy...quite likely the one for Brothers In Arms for...reasons. Don't want to spoil it. Though When the Mighty Don't Fall is a close second place.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

One time. But, deleted, blocked, done. :D

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. I'm sure folks can do it well---just not my cup of tea.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

An attempt was made once by one of those weird 'companies' through Amazon, but they took care of it fast.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A wonderful person has translated a TON of them into Russian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes I have! Doing one now as a matter of fact.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

This could be several categories. xD In books? Toss up between Harriet Vane/Peter Wimsey and Faramir/Eowyn.

Movies? Han/Leia [shocking] and Etienne Navarre/Isabeau d'Anjou from Ladyhawke.

And of course---epic platonic friendship--Piett and Veers

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a Hornblower collection that I have not touched in too long, but I ALSO finish stories, so it will happen. At some point.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Likely character building, dialogue and action.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description, pacing and editing. However, I write largely for fun-- being more lenient about editing for myself at the moment.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I have done it for Hornblower for realism but I don't often do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek actually. xD In high school. I don't think I even knew to call it fan fic then. I just loved Chekov from the original series. I grew up with the movies in the Eighties you see. Dates me I know. xD

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is the all time hardest question about my writing. I like various of my fics for very different reasons. So I'm sorry, but I'll have to say more than one.

Brothers In Arms because exploring Max and Firmus as friends from the Academy was a DELIGHT. Then throwing in Myra and Sola...yeah I had a lovely time with all the characters and action in that fic.

In terms of really getting a setting and having a blast with historical fiction---War in the Shadows. I am a history NERD and I think I did pretty well with accurate time period world building while using Star Wars characters. ;D

And Mirjahaal hit a lot of delightful notes for me to play with so I have to mention it.

Gently tagging @afaroffsong @kraytwriter @freenarnian @scarvenartist @rainintheevening @klarionthewizard @tolkienreader1996 @mathmusic8 @saxifrage-wreath @galaxacious @hollers-and-holmes

[thesconesyard]

Where the West Begins

10. A Dark Horse

Pavel Chekov smiled as he heard the familiar sound of shots as he rode back to the ranch. Jim had designated a time in the afternoon for everyone who wanted to practice shooting after Miss Uhura and Jaylah had begun to learn. Both ladies had been quick learners.

Chekov had been to town for the mail and papers. He may have stopped for a small drink at Gaila’s but he’d be hard pressed to admit it. He smiled again. He had heard more news while he was there so it had been worth it.

He made his way to the barn and unsaddled his horse. Chekov was quick with a brush and a treat.

“Good job Sasha,” he said as he led the horse back to the pasture behind the barn.

He gathered up the mail and papers he’d left with his saddlebag and headed for the house.

“Hello Keenser,” he said as he came to the kitchen door. “Do you need any help?” Keenser shook his head and continued towards the chicken coops.

Chekov entered the house after carefully wiping his boots. He did not want Miss Christine to be mad at him. In the sitting room he set down the mail on a table and sorted it for everyone. He and Mr. Scotty and the doctor were the only ones who had nothing, but Chekov did not let that bother him. He often went a long time without mail. Instead he took one of the newspapers and settled into a chair to read.

Footsteps roused him from his reading. An account of Khan’s trial was in the paper and they had all been mentioned.

“Well Pavel you’re back.” Miss Uhura was in the doorway. “Anything good?”

“You have two letters,” Chekov said promptly.

Uhura picked them up. “I’ll read them tonight,” she smiled. “I’ll just put them away. Then will you read to me while I get started with dinner?”

“Yes ma’am!” Chekov said eagerly. Uhura turned to take her letters to her room and Chekov gathered up the paper. He headed to the kitchen and sat at the small table there.

“The trial is in here, shall I start with that?” Chekov asked when Uhura joined him.

“No please,” Uhura said. “I’d like to forget about that.”

“Ok. I will just start from the front then.”

Miss Christine and Jaylah came in while Pavel was still reading. He glanced over the paper and was impressed at how the three women worked around each other so well.

“Thank you Pavel,” Miss Uhura said. “Could you carry this into the dining room?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said and set the paper down. His stomach had been grumbling for a while with all the good smells and he couldn’t wait to eat.

On the porch after supper Sulu began to read the news out for everyone. Even Mr. Scott and the doctor had stayed on the porch to listen, but Chekov had already read it, so he decided to take a walk. As he passed the barn he realized he wasn’t alone and turned around.

“Jaylah?”

“I want to ride in that race,” the young woman said.

“What?” Chekov looked at her in confusion.

“You read it.” Jaylah gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. “It is this weekend you said. It is open for anyone. I want to do it.”

“But Jaylah!” Chekov said. “It is for men! You- you are a girl!”

“I am a woman and I don’t care! Why should it only be for men? I can ride too!” Jaylah’s hands went to her hips as she stared at him.

“I- I- they won’t let you!”

“Then you will sign up and I will ride,” Jaylah said with a ‘so there!’ look in her eyes.

“But- but—” Chekov sighed at the fierce look on Jaylah’s face. He knew she would not change her mind. “Ok. You can try.”

The morning of the race came and Chekov still did not think it was a good idea. Jaylah met him at the barn after lunch. She was dressed in the pants and shirt she and Miss Uhura had made together. Mr. Scott had given her a wide brimmed hat when she had begun helping with the outside chores and she had her hair tucked under it.

The sun was high and the air was hot. No one was around at the moment and Chekov hoped it stayed that way. He didn’t want to have to explain what they were doing. Anyone who saw them ride off would just think they were going out for fun.

Jaylah quickly grabbed a saddle and headed for Trébol’s stall while Chekov made his way to Sasha’s much more slowly.

In town Jaylah kept her hat low and didn’t look at other people. Chekov led the way to the field by the train station. Alongside the tracks was where the race would take place. People were sitting on quickly made stands and milling about. At a post nearby they tied the two horses and went to find the table to sign up.

As they walked a sign with the names of the participants was being hung up. Quietly around them Chekov heard the sound of bets being placed.

“I do not think this is a good idea,” he said to Jaylah.

“I am not changing my mind. There!” she pointed next to the sign. A table was set up and a pair of men sat behind it. Jaylah went straight to it and Chekov had to follow quickly.

“Want to sign up?” one of the men asked as the two stopped.

“Yes,” Chekov said reluctantly. The man raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

“Mister… Chekov, isn't it?” the man asked.

“Da- uh, yes. No!”

The two men looked questioningly at him and he could feel Jaylah’s eyes burning on him.

“I mean, don’t sign me up! It is my brother who wants to ride!” Chekov said quickly. “Piotr!”

The men looked over at Jaylah.

“S- He doesn’t speak English,” Chekov said before anyone could say anything. He turned to Jaylah and began to ask her something in Russian.

“Da,” she answered slowly in a low voice as she tried to keep the confusion from her face.

“There,” Chekov turned back. “Piotr Chekov. He will race.” Jaylah set two coins on the table, her entry fee.

“Alright. Thank you gentlemen,” said the man. “Race begins in twenty minutes. Starting line is over there.” He pointed.

“Yes. Thank you, thank you!” Chekov hurried Jaylah away.

“Who’s that young man on the end?”

Chekov sat at the top of the stands trying not to hide his face behind his hands. Jaylah was really going through with it.

“Piotr Chekov? Never heard of him.”

The two men next to Chekov were discussing the riders.

“Well Kyle over there from Herndorff’s is bound to win. He always does.”

“Shh, here they go!”

A gunshot and then the riders were off. Chekov wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Pounding hooves and the cheering of the crowd rang in his ears. The riders headed away from town alongside the train tracks, then would turn at a barrel and ride back.

Chekov’s heart was in his throat as the horses rode away. Under his breath he whispered a prayer that Jaylah would be alright.

“Here they come!” someone shouted.

“Who’s in front?!”

“Kyle!” Loud cheers followed that.

“No! It’s someone else!”

“Who?”

Chekov was scanning the riders at the back of the pack.

“It’s that new man! Chekov!”

Chekov’s head whipped to the front. Jaylah was leading! His mouth dropped open in shock. A moment later it was over and the crowd was roaring. Hurriedly, Chekov pushed his way down the stands and to where the riders were.

“You did it!” he cried in surprise. Jaylah hopped off Trébol and threw her arms around him. Together they hugged and jumped around happily.

“Let’s collect your prize!” Chekov said when Jaylah finally released him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes!”

[allaboutthedrama]

I know that I'm pretty late to the conversation, but I've just reread all of Vampire Academy and Bloodlines (possibly for The Untitled Jill Project) and it's the first time I've reread the VA series in years.

I'm just thinking about how, in my opinion, the quality of the VA series improved as we got into the last few books, and with Bloodlines, I think the reverse sort of happened. Spoilers for both series ahead. (Yeah, the last book came out nine years ago, but you never know.)

I think I hadn't realized how cohesive the ending of Last Sacrifice was. Details from as far back as the first book came up and were very relevant. The political plotline came together in a really tight way, Sonya Karp turned out the be Chekov's spirit user, we got more world-building details, the antagonists had complex and convoluted motivations, and even when there were plot threads left dangling, those actually served a purpose. I loved the part where Adrian pointed out to Rose that her actions had consequences and even though she had gotten what she wanted, not everything else was resolved, so people like Eddie and Sydney and Jill were left in bad situations, and she was partly responsible. It created a little more moral ambiguity, which I really enjoyed, especially since YA tends to like the very neat endings where everything winds up happily ever after.

The Vampire Academy books improved the deeper into the series you got. And, although I love Bloodlines, I do think that the first three books are much stronger than the last three. Which is a shame, because the series has so much potential.

I think Mead is at her best when she's writing something of a mystery. Last Sacrifice obviously comes to mind (they're solving a murder mystery, after all). Bloodlines had that, with the tattoos, Lee, and Keith being shady all building up to a really exciting climax. The Golden Lily wasn't quite as much of one, but the clues leading up to the reveal of the Warriors were well-placed. Indigo Spell went straight back into mystery territory, trying to find Jackie's sister. And then The Fiery Heart is where, in my opinion, things start to falter. There's a lot of interesting worldbuilding information introduced, with the new details about spirit and magic coming up, and it was fun to get into Adrian's head, but it definitely felt like this supernatural romance was shifting to become a lot more romance and a lot less concerned with the supernatural. But that's not such a big deal. It's the middle of the series, we're building tension, Re-Education has been a threat hanging over Sydney since page one of Bloodlines and we're finally seeing that fear pay off.

But then we get to Silver Shadows, and while I guess figuring out where Sydney is could be a mystery, it doesn't really resonate the way 'who killed the queen' does, in my opinion. Sydney's arc in Re-Education is great, and I do like the way the books deal with Adrian's mental health issues, but some of Adrian's chapters felt more like filler. And a bigger issue, imo, was that this was when we really started to lose the side characters. Some of my favorite parts of the first few books were characters like Jill, Eddie, Trey, and Angeline, and then the ensemble atmosphere was largely gone, because Sydney was in Re-Education and Adrian left Palm Springs. The final fight and flight sequence was really good, though, so I had high hopes going into The Ruby Circle.

The Ruby Circle is probably my least favorite of the books between both of the series, and I think that's a shame, since it's the finale. We'd just had a 'kidnapped character' arc, so I think there was less emphasis on describing everyone's reactions. We saw the biggest reaction from Eddie, but as a result, he got kind of flattened out from the really well-rounded character he'd been from the back half of the VA books and the first part of Bloodlines.

The Ruby Circle could have been a really good mystery, with lots of twists that tied up a lot of the lingering questions from the series. Except that a lot of threads from the rest of the series were dropped and didn't resurface. They never caught whoever was behind the assassination attempt on Jill. I don't think we even got an official resolution on whether Lissa managed to change the quorum law. The political plots that were integral to VA weren't significant in Bloodlines, despite it all starting because of a politically motivated assassination. We also never got a resolution on the rogue spirit user who turned Lee back from being Strigoi, or the spirit users who had been sent to the psychiatric facility in Tarasov (the prison from Spirit Bound). We never found Robert Duro. The bond itself was somewhat discarded, too, whenever it wasn't immediately useful for a plot point. Instead, we just got a scavenger hunt across the country, a few fight scenes where the protagonists were pretty much guaranteed to win, and a final showdown with a magic barrier that, as we learn after, would have dropped down on its own in a few hours for them to bring Jill food, anyways.

I obviously still like the series, since I'm rereading it and talking about it nine years after the fact. But I think that there were a lot of opportunities to continue plots from VA that were lost, even when they should have been brought back into the story.

If anyone has made it this far, I suppose I should throw in a pitch for The Untitled Jill Project, which will be my attempt to rewrite the Bloodlines series from Jill's perspective, because I think there's still a lot more story to be told. I haven't got it all mapped out, but I intend to at least tie up some of the narrative loose ends I mentioned that bothered me about the series in that story. I might write up another post here soon about how Jill's characterization also suffered as Bloodlines went on, if anyone's interested.

Anyways, if anyone has any strong opinions on what I said (agreeing or disagreeing) please let me know! I'd love to talk about the series with people, since no one in my real life has read it, and I'm curious to know what the rest of the fandom thinks about how the narrative progressed in Bloodlines.

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 25: Pon Farr

Rite (write ;) ) of passage for star trek ficcers!! Yes I made the same joke on my AO3 but it was too good to only post once!! I am very behind on Spirktober but I'm having too much fun to stop now so here's my accidental 6K fic about spock's first pon farr.

Also posted on AO3 here!

Archive warnings: explicit sex ahead! ahoy!

☆☆☆

After three years of having a direct line into Spock’s emotions, Jim was reasonably accustomed to his bondmate’s daily moods. There were, usually, very few surprises. So when the bond between them lit up with an unexpected one-two punch of lust and anxiety with no apparent cause, Jim was concerned, to say the least.

He shifted in the captain’s chair and thought down the bond, Everything okay, love? 

There was not an immediate response, which was not necessarily a problem except for that the anxiety had not abated in the slightest and the lust was starting to make Jim’s skin itch. Spock? Hello?

Are you on the bridge? Spock’s mental voice was ragged, slightly breathless, and Jim’s own concern ticked up another notch. Are you safe?

Yes, I’m safe, he thought back, and pushed the image of what he was seeing to Spock. Sulu and Chekov at their stations ahead of him, the blackness of space and the occasional distant star on the viewscreen, and the general air of relaxation around him. Uhura was humming to herself. Are you okay? What’s wrong?

I do not know, Spock said, and that answer frightened Jim more than anything else so far. I find that I cannot logically pinpoint the source of this emotion nor can I compartmentalize it. 

Spock, are you having a panic attack? Why do you feel like you want to jump my bones?

At “jump my bones,” Spock’s half of the mental link contracted so suddenly and painfully with arousal that Jim bit the inside of his lip to keep from gasping. 

Refrain from considering such subjects until I leave the laboratory, Spock said, and his voice was strained. 

You’re meeting me in Medbay. Head there now, I’ll be down soon. 

Captain---

That’s an order, love. I’ll see you in a minute. At the promise of their meeting, Jim felt Spock’s stress decrease fractionally. He rolled his neck and stood. “Sulu,” he said. “You have the conn.”

“Sure, captain,” Sulu said. “For how long?” 

“Ah,” Jim said, and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know yet. Until I come back, I guess.” Sulu shrugged and stood to replace Jim in the captain’s chair. Jim walked into the turbolift and said, “Medbay.” 

Spock was pacing the hallway in front of the Medbay doors when Jim arrived. “Hey, you,” he said as he exited the turbolift, smiling at his bondmate. At the sound of his voice, Spock whirled and was on him in a second. He slid his hand into Jim’s hair, tight enough to pull,  pressed his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, and inhaled sharply. Through Spock’s hand against his skin, Jim could feel the trembling in his arms. Spock’s nose was pressed hard against him; he could feel the fluttering of his eyelashes against his neck. 

“Hey,” he said again, soothingly. He ran his hands down Spock’s back, resting on his ribs. His heart was beating entirely too hard for anything short of active combat. “Hey, now. It’s okay. Everything is fine. Let’s go see M’Benga, okay?” 

Spock took one more deep inhale against his skin before straightening. His cheeks and ears were flushed, like he had a fever, and he tucked his hands behind his back for only a moment before he released them to touch Jim again. Jim took his hand, despite their usual moratorium on PDA, and that seemed to steady him, before pulling him to the Medbay doors. As soon as they slid open, Spock pulled Jim behind him and stood between him and the rest of Medbay, eyes flicking from side to side like he was expecting an attack. The only person Jim saw over Spock’s shoulder was Christine, who sat with her legs stretched out in front of her on an unoccupied biobed, surrounded by a stack of padds. 

She looked up as the doors opened. “Hey, boys,” she said, smiling. “What can I do for you today?” She frowned as she registered Spock’s face. “What’s wrong?” 

“I think he might be, uh. Having a panic attack?” Jim peered around Spock’s arm.

Christine immediately swung her legs down from the bed and approached, palms up like she was soothing an animal. Her eyes narrowed as she took in Spock’s defensive stance, the flush on his face, his unsteady breathing.

“Everything okay, Spock?” 

“I do not know,” Spock said. His voice was tight. Christine took another step towards him, and his grip on Jim’s hand tightened as he crouched slightly. “Christine, please. I know, logically, that you are my friend. But do not come any closer.” She stopped immediately where she stood, and Jim saw her put something together. 

“Oh, shit,” she said. “Is it that you don’t want me to come near you? Or near Jim?”

“Jim,” Spock said immediately, and pulled him further behind him. 

“I’m gonna get M’Benga, because he can help more than I can, and then I’ll be right back. Okay?” 

When Spock nodded, she spared Jim one nervous smile and vanished behind the partition wall, into M’Benga’s office. Spock ran his thumb compulsively over the back of Jim’s hand, and slowly Jim put together the pieces. He pulled Spock to face him, putting his free hand on his chest, making Spock look at him.

I think it might be your time, Spock. 

No, Spock said immediately, but with no conviction. M’Benga said that I would sense it coming for a few days first. 

He was taking an educated guess, love. He might have been wrong. 

I fear for you, Jim. I am not ready. I do not want to hurt you. 

You’re not going to, he said, but he privately made a note to call his mother-in-law as soon as he could. We’ve talked about this. We have a plan. It’ll be okay. We’ll just speed up the timeline a little bit. 

M’Benga stepped out from his office with Christine, but maintained a healthy distance between himself and Spock. 

“Doctor,” Spock said. “I think I must request leave.” 

“Yes, I think you must,” M’Benga said, and he crossed the room to pull a medical kit labeled in Vulcan from a locker. “You and the captain are both on leave from duty for the next six days. If you need more time, it’s yours. The captain’s quarters have a replicator, no?” 

“Yes,” Jim said.

“Go there, then. Captain, you must ensure your own nutrition and hydration. I’m not sure if Mr. Spock will remember.” A flash of guilt came over the bond, and Spock’s hand flexed compulsively around his. M’Benga placed the bag on the ground and shoved it, so it slid across the floor to them. Spock picked it up without releasing Jim’s hand. 

“If there’s anything you need that isn’t in the bag and can’t be replicated, call us,” M’Benga said, and now he was talking to Jim. “We’ll bring whatever it is. Captain, I mean it. Whatever you need. Do not prioritize your privacy over your health.” 

“Got it, doctor,” Jim said. Spock did not respond. “Thank you.” 

Let’s go, sweetheart, Jim said, and when he pulled Spock by the hand, he followed. M’Benga and Christine watched him go, and she crossed her arms over her chest. When Jim looked back over his shoulder as the doors slid shut behind him, she mouthed, “Good luck,” and winked. 

Well, at least one person thought he was going to have fun. He wasn’t so sure, himself. 

☆☆☆

Jim had been sitting on the closed toilet seat for forty-five seconds, composing the most intimate and embarrassing padd message he’d ever written and bracing himself to send it to Amanda, when he felt the anxiety flare again. Three seconds later, Spock overrode the bathroom lock. He panicked, hit send on the message, and stood. 

“Hi,” he said. “Okay there?” 

Spock looked between the padd and the closed toilet seat and to him. “I do not wish to be apart from you right now,” he said, voice mostly even, but Jim felt his anxiety spiking through the bond. “Is… everything alright?” 

“Yes,” Jim said. He stuck his padd in his pocket and crossed the room. I’m worried about you, he said through the bond. And about me. I messaged your mom for advice. He wrapped his arms around Spock, and Spock dropped his forehead onto his shoulder. 

I am in control now, but I do not know what will happen when the blood fever comes. I am terrified to hurt you. 

I know, baby. That’s why I don’t think you will. But… just in case. I wanted to tap in the only other human I know who has done this before. Spock rolled his head to press his lips against Jim’s neck and wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist. 

Let’s lay together and watch holovids for a while. No rush. If it starts, we’ll already be in bed, Jim said. He stepped forward, pushing Spock backwards out of the bathroom, back into his quarters. He stripped out of his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Spock methodically removed his own uniform, folding it carefully, and placed it on his desk. 

His padd dinged from where it had been abandoned in his pants. Spock retrieved it and handed it to him before climbing into bed beside him. 

“Do you want to see what she says?” Jim asked. Spock rolled onto his stomach, face buried in his pillow, and mumbled, “No.” Jim stroked one hand over his bondmate’s hair before tapping on the notification from Amanda. 

He closed his eyes, breathed in, and opened the message. 

My dear Jim, 

I’m so glad that you reached out to me, even though I can feel your embarrassment through the screen. Please do not be embarrassed. I wish that I had been able to ask anyone about what the plak tow was going to be like for our first pon farr together, and I’m glad that I can be that for you. 

I am going to let you in on a secret, one that I hope will set your mind at ease and bring you and Spock closer together during this time. Vulcans are so private, and have been for so long, that I think they’ve forgotten the damage that their privacy causes to those who aren’t in the know. I know that the idea of this time terrifies Spock --- it has since he was small and first learned of it. I hope this message assuages his worry as well as yours.

Here is the secret: because you are already bonded, and because you love each other, it is going to be wonderful. Do not be afraid. The secrecy with which all Vulcans hold this time has only served to perpetuate the worst rumors from the worst situations. 

Be prepared --- certainly be smart, and safe, and drink more water than you think you need --- but do not worry. He will take care of you. 

I love you both. Talk soon. 

Amanda

“Oh, my god,” Jim said. He read the message again, and then a third time. Spock, he said. His bondmate was still facedown in the pillow, with one hand spread possessively over Jim’s stomach. Jim threaded their fingers together. Spock, listen. He read Amanda’s message aloud through the bond. 

Slowly Spock picked his head up and propped himself on his elbows. Jim handed him the padd for him to read for himself. He scanned the words once, and then again, before returning the padd to Jim and meeting his eyes. The worry that had clouded the bond since the first flare of anxiety this morning had not totally dissipated, but it was greatly lessened. 

I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, Jim said, and he pulled up a Terran movie from the 2050s on his padd, propping it on his thighs and sliding down the pillows to lay on his back. Spock curled around him, head on his shoulder, arm across his middle. 

Thank you for asking her, he said. I am less concerned for your safety now than I was before. 

Less concerned? That’s all? 

I do not understand. 

Come on, you’re not even a little excited? 

Excited? To behave like an animal for a week? 

Have it your way, Jim said, trailing his fingers over Spock’s forearm. 

After a few minutes of watching the movie in silence, Spock said, Are you excited?

In response, Jim pushed one of the fantasies he’d been nurturing ever since Spock had explained the pon farr to him along the bond and felt Spock’s arm tighten across his stomach. Only if you’re taking requests, Jim said. 

I will see what I can do, Spock said, but Jim felt his tension dissipate further and the lust from earlier begin to take its place. He settled in to watch the movie and fell asleep with Spock on his shoulder. 

☆☆☆

When Jim woke up, the room was pitch-dark and his body told him he had only been asleep for a few hours. His padd had been moved to his bedside table, and Spock was nowhere to be found. 

My love? He cast the thought out through the bond as he felt around in the bed for Spock. He found no warm body beside him, but heard a shuffling across the room. 

“Computer, lights to ten percent,” he said quietly, and the room illuminated enough for him to see what had woken him. Spock had gotten out of bed --- recently, if the state of his hair and the imprint of the lines of the sheets against his chest were any indication --- and he was digging through the bag from M’Benga, which had been abandoned on the coffee table. He pulled a large bottle of something from the bag and turned back to Jim, whose eyes flicked downward. 

His bondmate was very, very hard. 

You are awake, Spock said. His voice was ragged. 

You’re awake too, Jim said, and sat himself up fully. Spock prowled towards him, tossed the bottle onto the bed next to Jim, and crawled across the bed to him. 

I burn, Spock said, and he cupped the back of Jim’s head and pulled him into a human kiss. Jim opened his mouth to Spock, allowing him access, not awake enough to give one hundred percent but certainly awake enough to enjoy Spock’s attentions. 

What do you need? Jim asked sleepily. Spock pushed him back down onto the bed, laying his weight over him, pressing him into the mattress. He nudged Jim’s head sideways, giving him access to his neck, and licked a strip up to his ear. 

You, Spock said, and his voice was just a growl now, primal and assertive. Give yourself to me and I will give you everything. 

Everything? Jim said, and wound his arms around Spock’s neck, sighing as Spock sucked what was surely going to be an enormous hickey into the skin below his jaw. 

Whatever you desire, ashayam, it will be yours, Spock said, and he ran a hand down the length of Jim’s torso, halting at the waistband of his boxers. Jim felt his hands hesitate, and even though Amanda’s message had eased his concerns, he had not realized that giving his consent was part of the process. He had assumed that it did not factor in. But Spock had never once taken something that Jim had not offered, and it did not seem like he was going to start now.

Yes, he said. I’m yours, love. Give me everything. Spock’s hand slid into his boxers, nails dragging against his thighs, and he felt his hips being lifted and his shorts being removed. The dim lights shone against the darkness of Spock’s hair as he licked and kissed and bit his way down Jim’s body, halting for only a second to kiss the side of his dick, before he felt Spock’s arms twine under his body and flip him onto his stomach, fast enough to knock the wind from him. 

Oh, shit, he thought, dizzy, and Spock was back at his head in an instant, nuzzling against his ear from behind, the heat of his body radiating into Jim’s back. 

Ashayam? 

Still here. Still good. Just surprised me. Not totally awake. Spock kissed his ear in confirmation and then licked a hot wet stripe down his back. Jim crossed his arms under his head and closed his eyes as Spock spread him open and licked from his balls to his tailbone. His body was waking up now, paying more attention to what Spock’s tongue and hands were doing, and it was only a couple of minutes longer before he was completely awake, hard, and grinding against the mattress and Spock’s face. He moaned into the pillow, and before he realized what was happening Spock had flipped him over again. He landed on his back, knees bent and falling open, and Spock put himself between them, grinding their dicks together, kissing the moans out of his mouth. The friction of Spock’s boxers was almost too much, and he groaned. 

In one motion Spock stood, removed his boxers, and recovered the scarily large bottle of lube from where it had landed before crawling back to Jim. He sat back on his knees and flicked the cap open, squirting the liquid onto his fingers, and trailing them between his cheeks. 

Please, Spock said. Jim let his knees fall further apart. 

Please, Jim said, as he felt Spock’s finger trace a line down his hole. He hissed at the cold surprise of the lube, but it warmed quickly between his body and Spock’s hand, and sooner than he had expected Spock was scissoring multiple fingers inside him. Spock pulled his fingers out and Jim groaned. But a second later he felt the head of Spock’s dick push at him, and Spock’s hands around his hips. 

Ashayam? Spock asked.

Yes, Jim said. Spock pushed inside him, less gently than he might have otherwise, sure, but he had been careful and methodical in his preparation and he seated himself inside Jim with no pain. The head of his cock brushed the bundle of nerves inside him, and Jim arched off the bed. Spock slid an arm beneath him, holding him up to Spock’s chest until there was nothing separating them but their skin, and then he began to move. 

Spock was usually careful with Jim. And he still was, mostly--- Jim could feel his love leaking from every inch of the bond and from Spock’s hands on his skin --- but the leash had slipped. He thrust into him harder than he had before, pushing him up the bed against the headboard, driving his hipbones against Jim’s ass until he was sure that he couldn’t take another millimeter of him. 

Jim leaked come onto his stomach, flying towards the edge of climax, but Spock showed no signs of slowing. Love, please, he gasped. I’m too close.

I will have your orgasm, Spock growled. Give it to me. Even as he drove into Jim with that punishing rhythm, he reached up to wrap one hand around Jim’s cock, a question in his eyes. Yes, Jim gasped, and all it took was for Spock to close his hand around Jim and tighten before Jim came like a supernova, spilling over his chest and Spock’s, crying out and digging his hands into Spock’s shoulder as he clenched around him. 

Spock followed him over the edge, and as Jim was still coming down he felt Spock come inside him, muffling himself by biting into the meat of Jim’s shoulder. Spock convulsed once, twice, before pulling out gently and pulling Jim into his arms, cradling him in his lap. 

Good morning, he said, head lolling against Spock’s shoulder. He was covered in his own come and could feel Spock’s dripping out of him, but he didn’t have the bones left within his body to get up and wash off. He was content to lay here in Spock’s lap until otherwise forced to move. 

Thank you, Spock said, and Jim opened his eyes in surprise. 

For what? 

For giving yourself to me, Spock said. Jim closed his eyes again. 

You’re welcome, he thought. That was… nice. Not what I expected from all the stories. He also didn’t expect the chest-deep amusement he felt from Spock in response. 

My James, Spock said. This is only the beginning. Sleep now. 

Despite the come drying on his chest and the awkward curl of his position, he obeyed, and slept. 

☆☆☆

When Jim woke again a few hours later, it was because the mental bond was hot with desire. He opened his eyes to find that he and Spock had not moved from where he had fallen asleep after they had had sex--- Spock sat cross-legged beneath him, arms cradled beneath his legs and shoulders, holding him to his chest. He blinked and lifted his head. As soon as he started to move, Spock tensed.

You awaken, Spock said. 

I do, Jim said, and moved to roll out of Spock’s lap. But as he did so, Spock’s arms tightened around him. 

No, he said, and he sounded contrite even as he refused to let Jim go. Do not be parted from me. 

Even to use the bathroom? Jim could feel and now regret not cleaning up after last night. His skin was tight and sticky. Spock lifted him from his lap, rose to his knees, and uncrossed his legs, all while keeping Jim held to his chest. He carried him across the room and into the bathroom before finally setting him on his own two feet on the cool tile. 

Are you going to stand there while I pee? 

Spock’s face flushed, but he made no further moves to leave the bathroom. I find that I cannot bear to let you out of my sight.

Have it your way, he said, and relieved himself, studiously ignoring the weight of his bondmate’s continued gaze. He finished and crossed to wash his hands, and Spock followed him, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. Feeling a pulse of arousal through the bond, Jim watched in the mirror as Spock traced the dried evidence of the night before on his chest with two fingers. With every pass of his hand, he felt Spock’s interest grow through both the bond and his erection against his back. 

Will you give yourself to me? Spock asked, and his hands tightened around Jim’s hips. Jim turned in the circle of his arms as Spock leaned down to kiss him.

Always, he said, and Spock lifted him and carried him to the shower. 

☆☆☆

It had been twenty-four hours and Spock had refused to let him go more than three feet from him at any given point in time. After fucking him in the shower up against the tiles, Spock had carefully washed and dried him, toweled and brushed his hair, and then followed him step for step to the replicator. Jim thought that, if he hadn’t already picked up the fork himself, Spock would have insisted on feeding him. Through the bond he could feel the fever, some of it leaking through the connection and spiking his own arousal, and Spock had not said anything but some variation on ‘give yourself to me’ in hours. 

Contrary to his and M’Benga’s fears that Spock would accidentally dehydrate him into a shriveled husk, Jim found that Spock was more attuned to the needs of his body than he was. Before he was even aware of his own thirst or hunger, Spock had stood, acquired whatever he needed, and returned, sliding his hand behind Jim’s head, lifting a glass or fork to his lips. Then, every hour or two, Spock would slip his hand between Jim’s thighs, waves of fevered arousal flooding him from the bond, and ask Jim to give himself to him. He would agree, and his bondmate would take care of him. After four rounds in four hours, his dick had given up on participation for the day, but Spock melded them after that point and he instead rode the mental high of Spock’s relentless ability to climax until his body was rubber and his thoughts slid off his brain like rain off a rooftop. 

But Amanda had been honest with him. The pain that he and Spock had both expected and feared for this time never came to pass. It was true that very little of his thoughtful, eloquent bondmate remained --- there was none of the usual scientific curiosity or quick wit through Spock’s half of the bond. But the bone-deep possessiveness, the love and care and protection that Jim had felt since the first day they were bonded, had been unleashed, and even when Spock left bruises on his hips and ass and neck he knew that Spock would not hurt him. 

In the medical bag from M’Benga he found three more of the enormous lubricant bottles, a truly unholy number of condoms, emergency rehydration goo, nutrition bars, and a strange plastic wand labeled ‘internal dermal regenerator.’ He set the last aside for future use, because the state of his ass after just the first day made him think that it would be highly useful by day three. 

Spock allowed him to nap as long as it was in his arms, and when he awoke near dinnertime to Spock’s hands sliding down his back to grope his ass, he wrapped his arms around his bondmate’s neck and said, before Spock could ask, I’m yours.

☆☆☆

Eighty hours after the last time Jim had left the bridge, the plak tow reached fever pitch. His sense of time had entirely abandoned him, but he felt the itch of want under his skin even before he registered Spock’s uneven breathing and blown-out pupils in the dim light. Spock’s hands against his back pressed hard enough to bruise, and when Jim called his name down the bond he received nothing in return but waves of possession and need.

“Spock,” he said aloud, voice rough from disuse. He grabbed Spock’s face, forcing him to look at him, and as Spock’s wild eyes focused on him the fever flowing from Spock’s half of the bond intensified until Jim was burning with it too. Against all evidence of human endurance he was hardening against Spock’s thigh, and he knew the moment Spock registered it because Spock rolled them, pressing him into the mattress, grinding down against him. He gasped under Spock’s weight, at the sudden friction of skin on skin. Spock’s head dropped against his neck, and he arched up at the feeling of his bondmate leaving another mark on the abused skin there. He had stopped looking at himself in the mirror after finding the necklace of hickeys Spock had left on the second day. 

What do you want? Jim asked, but there was no response in words. He just felt the overwhelming needneedneed from Spock, the bone-deep urge to crawl inside Jim’s skin and live there, the need to make Jim orgasm again and again until he was shooting blanks, the need to claim him body and soul. 

After three days of marathon intercourse he needed very little warmup, and he lost the entire rest of the day to the fever dream of his bondmate’s need. Spock was pressing him into the mattress, pulling him into his lap, holding him against the wall of their room and then the shower, and Jim had given up entirely on actively participating. He clung to Spock’s shoulders, burying his face in his neck, and between them flowed a river of yours, yours, yours and mine, mine, mine until he no longer knew who was claiming whom. 

☆☆☆

At some point in the night Jim had fallen asleep, and he was reasonably certain that that had been the only reason Spock had finally been convinced to stop moving. But the urgency that had flooded the bond the previous day had abated, and Spock was sleeping next to him when he awoke. 

He sat up, trying not to disturb Spock, but Spock’s eyes opened as soon as he had registered the flare of pain from pressure on his ass. He hissed out a breath as Spock sprang up, lifting him from the bed, holding him in his arms so he wasn’t putting any weight anywhere near his tailbone. Spock was still nonverbal, it seemed, but the bond pulsed with question and concern.

Baby, please. Can you grab the regenerator from the medical pack? Jim asked. Rather than set him down to retrieve it, Spock carried him across the room and settled them both in Jim’s chair as he grabbed the regenerator. For the first time in days, he saw a flicker of Spock’s normal disposition in his eyes as he turned it over to read the instructions. He stood, carried Jim back to the bed, and carefully flipped him over to deposit him on his stomach before rereading the instructions. 

Jim slept on and off for the next four hours as Spock methodically and deliberately applied the dermal regenerator to and in his abused ass. The blood fever had abated enough that the lust had taken a backseat to Spock’s worry, and when his rear felt mostly back to normal Spock pulled him into his lap again and let him sleep for another few hours. 

When the fever reared its head again later in the evening, some of the urgency had faded and Spock took his time bringing them both to orgasm twice. They fell asleep wrapped in each other and when Jim awoke again, it was morning. 

He opened his eyes to find Spock watching him fondly, smoothing his hair back with a hand that was no longer shaking with need. 

Hey, love, Jim said.

Ashayam, Spock said--- his first actual word in days--- and bent to kiss him. Kissing had fallen by the wayside in favor of wantonly gasping in each other’s mouths the past few days, and Jim was content to lay here and neck like teenagers for a while. 

He eventually asked, Is it over? 

Almost, Spock said, and Jim could feel through the bond the difficulty he had thinking in Standard. Jim curled up to him, wrapping his arms around his neck, and Spock sat up and pulled him into his lap. Spock mentally tapped on the bond.

Yeah, honey?

Instead of replying in words, Spock kissed the back of his head and pushed the fantasy that Jim had shared with him on the first day back along the bond. 

Surprised, he asked, You want to? Spock nodded against the back of his head. He turned in his arms and captured Spock’s lips again, sliding his tongue into his mouth. He readjusted his legs to straddle Spock’s lap and ground down against him as Spock’s hands slid up his back. 

He threaded his hands through Spock’s hair and pulled his head back, exposing his throat for Jim to finally, finally leave a retributive hickey on him. He felt the tensing of Spock’s throat as he swallowed. He pressed a kiss to the point of Spock’s ear and asked, Will you give yourself to me? 

Under his lips, he felt Spock’s inhale and nod in response, and he pushed Spock down on the bed beneath him.

Spock had always had a shorter refractory period than Jim did --- just one of the unexpected benefits of his Vulcan-human hybrid physiology. But when Spock had explained the mechanics of pon farr to him six months after they’d accidentally bonded and purposefully married, the first thing that Jim had thought about after the preliminary shock was how he could take advantage of Spock having a virtually nonexistent rebound period for their mutual appreciation. 

He had to admit to himself that, after the fear and reluctance had melted away, he had enjoyed a week of being the absolute and unchallenged center of Spock’s entire universe, with no responsibilities to distract them. But their relationship had always been one of give and take, and he was ready to give as good as he had gotten. 

Jim laid down next to Spock, one leg slung over his, and wrapped his hand around Spock’s dick. Jim had bet that Spock would be hypersensitive, and he was pretty sure he had bet right when Spock arched up, thrusting into his hand immediately. With his other hand he grabbed Spock’s wrist and dragged it to his face so he could slide two of Spock’s fingers into his mouth, and he was rewarded with a choked-off whimper of need. He set a loose pace with his hand, using Spock’s precome as lubricant, and swirled his tongue around his knuckles. Spock slid his other hand under Jim’s head and pulled it to him, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses to his hairline. After less than two minutes Spock was keening with need, thrusting with abandon into Jim’s hand, and Jim said, Give it to me.

Spock came, wordlessly moaning even as the bond thrummed with JimJimJimJimJimJim. Jim released his hand from his mouth and kissed along his jaw.

So good, my love. He smeared his hand through the mess on Spock’s chest and slowly trailed his fingers along Spock’s dick. Again?

Spock rolled towards him, pushing his hips against his hand, burying his face in Jim’s neck. Jim lazily stroked him until, an absurdly short amount of time later, he was hard again. He crawled down the bed and Spock sat up to follow, but Jim pressed his hand against his chest and said, Stay. 

Spock laid down with reluctance, and Jim laid between his legs and kissed and licked and bit the insides of his thighs until Spock threaded his hand through Jim’s hair and said, Please. Only then did Jim take him into his mouth and suck. Spock arched off the bed again, pushing his dick further into his mouth, and Jim hummed around him. He liked making Spock come; liked knowing that he was the only man to do it, the only one that got to see him fall apart like this. He wanted to take advantage of the pon farr to take him over the edge as many times as he could before Spock insisted on reciprocating. He had wondered how many that would be.

The answer, as it turned out, was six. 

☆☆☆

When Jim awoke, it was because Spock’s half of the bond lit back up with the conscious and curious feel of his bondmate’s waking mind at 6:30 in the morning. 

Good morning, Spock said when Jim opened his eyes. 

Hey. You’re back online, Jim said, and caressed Spock’s face with the back of one hand. 

So it seems, Spock said. He rolled over and stretched like a cat, exposing his back and the scratch marks Jim had dug into his skin over the course of the week. Jim ran a fingertip over one of the deeper green lines. They replicated breakfast and lounged in Jim’s bed together, and eventually Jim worked up the courage to look at himself in the mirror again. 

He gaped. His neck was virtually one entire bruise, very little of the tan of his skin visible between the mottled purple and green love bites. He was supposed to be on the bridge again tomorrow, and though he did not think his team was under any illusions regarding where he had been, he wasn’t sure how much proof they needed. He stared at himself with chagrin until Spock kissed one of the marks apologetically and pulled him away from the mirror. 

When he sat back down on the couch, he pulled out his padd and composed two messages. 

Amanda, 

Your message was a lifesaver. We can’t thank you enough. It made a huge difference in how the start of the week went. Everyone survived, with way less damage than originally feared.

We love you. Talk soon. 

Jim and Spock 

The second message was a group message sent via the inter-ship instant messenger. 

>JTK: Hey

>JTK: Can one of you please bring a normal regenerator to my quarters? Preferably before my shift tomorrow?

>MBenga: Yes

>MBenga: Anything else? Bandages, antiseptic? Do you need a full physical?

>JTK: Appreciate it, but no

>JTK: I’m actually in perfect health. Honest

>MBenga: So the regenerator…?

>CChapel: omg 

>CChapel: on the way 

>CChapel: i want to see your historic hickeys 

>STS: You will not be entering the quarters.

>JTK: Real professional, Christine

Jim set down his padd and pulled Spock down to rest against him. He kissed his forehead and said, We survived.

Indeed. With far less physical trauma than I had envisioned.

Do you think you’re going to be on a seven-year cycle? Or no?

I do not know. Why do you ask, ashayam?

I have ideas for next time. 

Spock’s indignant and aloud, “Already?” was worth every bruise. 

[octoberautumnbox]

Hi box! I noticed you have a very unique voice in your writing and I'm very curious on how you developed it. What kind of things do you keep in mind while writing? Are there any stories that you wrote in particular where you actively experimented on different things in your writing? What do you think influences your writing to be the way it is?

Not trying to copy you, I just think the different ways writers think about and approach their work is interesting. All the writers in this community have a unique voice and seeing where the similarities and differences lie is really cool.

🛢anon

hi 🛢 anon! (keep reading line bc god i yap so much lmao)

a weird thing I do is I have a feel for when a sentence shouldn't be over yet? I can't put it into words but I have a tug in my head when a sentence doesnt end like I like it to idk dkfjslahf

as for experiments hell yeah! every single thing ive put out has been an experiment! most notably, Win Trading was an experiment on lack of dialogue, I Got All I Need on perspective, Friday on Chekov's Gun, and special mention for Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424 for a kink that I personally didn't have

idk I think I just yap a lot and I'm sorta good with adjectives which make my fics turn out the way they do lol I'd love to pinpoint my influences if I could tho

thanks for the fun ask 🛢!!! man I need to clear up my inbox soon :nolookk:

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time. earlier tonight, my eyes were cursed with star trek generations, a very very bad movie. if you don't know the big spoiler for this movie (the character death), please stop reading here. or keep reading actually i'm not your mom. fuck this movie anyway.

with the tos movies, i tried to keep notes on notepad as i watched so as to better type up a "liveblog" later. i was a bit spotty at remembering to do that this time, but i have enough to put together a reasonable write-up. here's kind of how it went

cried multiple times during this movie. first time was when kirk showed up because i knew it was the last time we were ever gonna see him. got bonus aftershock tears when i saw scotty and chekov - i was under the impression it was JUST kirk. second time, i THINK, was when he showed up again, though i just misted up a little. big boo-hooing when he mentioned spock, naturally. MORE crying when he finally bit it, though it was mostly because i was angry!!! and finally, even though i promised myself i wouldn't cry over data, i did start sobbing when he was reunited with his cat. gave myself a crying headache.

it was difficult watching kirk be on the bridge and want to be captain and he's not captain. and then crisis strikes and oh yeah he is. and really, the captainly thing to do WAS to go down to the lower decks and do whatever the fuck. needs of the many. he saved that guy's life. that would have been a fine death.

it was a little ruined by chekov going "was there somebody in there?" like to me it struck me more as funny than anything

oh, spotting guinan in the tos era made me absolutely thrilled btw. i missed her so much in s7 it was UNREAL.

OH YEAH AND. sulu's daughter. wah. ik aos sulu is gay do we think tos sulu is gay too. either way i;m very happy for him

apparently one of the guys in this is from succession. i'm choosing to blame this whole debacle on him.

switching directly to a fucking holodeck scene KILLED me. i HATE the holodeck. at first i thought they were giving worf a retirement party to send him to ds9 but they were just doing all of that for fun. deanna's outfit was hot though. also, data shoving beverly WAS FUNNY tng writers just hate autistic people

i have mixed feelings about data and the emotions chip. i was surprised they never covered it in tng proper and i think it would have been handled better there...data having the chip WAS the reason soren got away, which makes it plot-important, but it felt like a b-plot to a normal tng episode and this is supposed to be a feature film. instead it was a tng two-parter with a budget and william shatner. it was fun watching data experience emotions (happiness, terror) and struggle to control them, but there ironically wasn't enough time to really get into it, except when picard gave him the tough love speech, which i think was uncalled for. why is he so against suicide when it's data when he was out here telling worf to kill himself over an empty barrel??

titty klingon sisters. i never remember their names or their faces but i ALWAYS recognize those boob windows. at first it was really annoying because it is pretty sexist but honestly i've become very endeared. it's absolutely devastating that this movie killed them too. they were everything to me 💔

hey, sorry, side bar, were they watching geordi bathe through his visor? freaks.

also, geordi in the bondage gear while he was kidnapped. ALSO, wasn't he growing new eyes in the tng s7 finale? whatever happened with that???

stellar cartography looks better than it did in tng but it brought back memories of picard running around on poor beverly. idk what he's so worried about continuing his family line for wesley crusher IS his affair baby

hey, also, the lighting??? the "distant sunlight" atmosphere when the lights are off vs the brightly lit interior of the show? truly, the upgraded lighting was probably my favorite part of the movie. it looked SO fucking good. i really felt like we were on a spaceship.

no, wait, ACTUALLY my favorite part was data getting to say "oh, shit!" that was really good. they got one bad word for this whole movie and used it in the perfect place

no, my favorite part was the spock mention.

did not like kirk referring to picard repeatedly as the captain of the enterprise. kirk's the real captain here, bitch. picard doesn't have what it takes to die for his ship. he doesn't love his ship the way kirk loved his.

i did like the nexus reference to the tmp wife. in the novel she was named lori but she didn't show up in tmp proper much less get a name so i'm ok with them calling her the wrong name, but i just know it's the same woman. less okay with kirk's nexus dream being all about some random woman we've never met. he's in love with the IDEA of a woman to come home to, sure, but it's just lazy writing. we don't have any reason to care about this girl. at least if it had been carol ruth marcus or something we'd have SOME basis to give a shit on. the nexus was the perfect place for spock and bones! i wish they and uhura and sulu had had cameos...

i also liked him warning picard to NEVER retire/accept promotion, bc retiring wound up being so traumatizing for him. this is not really consistent but i'm making it that way in my mind palace.

also, kirk being a horse girl is FAKE. they just made him be into horses bc picard is into horses. gross. he was really good at chopping wood though lol

the scene with the kids evacuating the spaceship...WHY WOULD YOU HAVE CHILDREN ON THIS SHIP. i also worried about the pets the entire time, which is part of why i lost it when data found spot :(

it's sad that a piece of guinan was left behind in the nexus...does that happen to everyone? is a piece of kirk in there too? i really wanted to write a fix-it for this someday but they have given me so little to work with that it's hard to imagine a fixit that isn't just 80% "yeah we're ignoring that" which isn't very satisfying.

the crash was SO long. also, why was data holding troi? she's got 2 different boyfriends who could be doing that for her

since i was going into this knowing kirk died, i expected that he was gonna die because the nexus swallowed him or something. i was expecting something grand. instead it was like, tos scene, an hour and a half of very mid tng content, and then half an hour of rushed and poorly paced kirk and picard scenes. typical tng episode that it didn't get to the point until it was almost over, but jesus. i can't believe they got shatner for their movie and then barely had him in it. like, kirk at the end was a total surprise narratively (obviously everyone watching it knows bc of the opening at LEAST that he'll be back, but imagine if this guy had been some rando - it would have been so unsatisfying and weird).

see, this is the thing. the nexus actually has the potential to be incredibly compelling. the way picard's scenes were shot were very very good, if one could ignore the clothes from 1790 and the horrific portrait of himself looking like he stepped out of les mis and also how creepy his kids were and WHY WASN'T HIS WIFE BEVERLY I HATE HIM. kirk's were rushed and messy (he likes horses? his dog? none of this connects us to the character we knew in tos...), and picard's involved, well, picard. but the CONCEPT absolutely fucks, and i did love the creep factor in spite of it all. this whole movie had huge potential and instead it's a steaming pile of shit. i could have learned to live with a good kirk death but living with a bad one is gonna kill me. at least he had good last words. "oh, my" right before he dies kinda fucks tbh.

my final note is that i think sir patrick stewart got sunburnt filming some of those scenes near the end. there were a few shots where he looked quite pink. give the man some sunscreen. oh yeah also why did some people randomly wear the ds9 uniforms...what on earth

anyway, terrible movie, 0/10 stars, i'm never gonna recover. tng never disappoints in disappointing me.

NEXT TIME: back to ds9, thank god. we're doing "meridan" and "defiant."