#I have to look away from the screen when Spock is shirtless. Why's he that buff. It intimidates me. No need to be that buff you nerd.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Watched episode one of SNW, in love with everyone. Two thoughts only: If I was about to have sex with my hot Vulcan wife and my boss called me to go into work I’d simply quit. If I was running for my life after being abducted by aliens and Uhura said “Hi~!” to me I’d also completely forget about any danger and talk to her about whatever she wanted.

[blacktrekkie]

1/12 Days of Spones: Snow

here’s my day one fic!

tos spones, rated T, 1.2k, read it on ao3

“Kisses in the snow seem to be a common theme for the end of all these films,” Spock observed, looking skeptically at the projected couple quite literally smashing their mouths together while snow fell into their hair. It looked painful.

“I — yeah, I guess,” Leonard said sheepishly, already reaching for the remote. “We don’t have to watch these, you know, it’s just… Joanna and I like to watch them, this time of year. Hate-watch them.”

“No, we can continue,” Spock interjected before he could pause it. “They’re… intriguing.”

Leonard huffed out a laugh. “More illogical human behavior?”

“Perhaps.” And then, after a sidelong glance: “Though if you find it illogical, Leonard, I may have to reevaluate that conclusion.”

“Hey!” he protested without heat. “You’re supposed to be hate-watching the movie, Spock. Not me.”

Spock almost smiled. “Apologies,” he said. And then he said it again, by laying his hand on the ankle that had stretched closer to him on the couch as Leonard got more comfortable. He turned back to the projection and his eyebrow raised at the sight in front of him. “I did not know this was a musical.”

“It’s not, it’s the last five minutes of a shitty Christmas rom-com. Hence, the shitty musical end scene.”

Spock didn’t particularly understand that, but he nodded. They finished the movie silently with horrified fascination — the horrible autotune filling the quarters until it finally faded to the instrumental credits.

“Phew,” Leonard finally said. “That was… really fuckin’ horrible, huh?”

“And yet you enjoyed watching it?”

He grinned, a little embarrassed at explaining the ritual. “Just a little bit. It’s entertaining to watch bad content! You’ve just got to tear it to shreds verbally while doing it. Keeps you sane.”

He popped off of the couch, going to find a new movie.

“Are you implying that watching too many of these movies can make one mentally unstable?”

Leonard didn’t look back at him, but he snorted. “Spock, in my very expert medical opinion… yes.”

He finished queuing the movie up and settled back onto the couch. This time, his feet found themselves in Spock’s lap. Spock, for his part, simply wrapped his fingers loosely around his ankles, barely paying him any mind.

“Leonard, I have one other question.”

“Hm?”

The film was starting with a slow pan over a small town.

“Kisses in the snow… they’re seen as romantic?”

“I guess. In the most cliche way. It’s just a common trope in Christmas movies.”

“Hm,” Spock mused. He left it at that.

“What?”

“I was contemplating when we would next see snow.”

Leonard attempted to hide his blush, by arguing gruffly, “Even if we weren’t on the ship, I live in Georgia and you live in a desert. Not much of a chance of us finding snow any time soon.”

Spock tilted his head, conceding the point. “I assume you have not been kissed in the snow?”

“Not that I remember, but maybe. They’re not as firework-y as the movies paint them as.”

Almost on cue, the movie set off fireworks as it began a montage of the main character’s — miserable, by the looks of it — past year.

“Anyway, we don’t need snow to kiss, you know.”

“Of that,” Spock responded, “I am keenly aware.”

Leonard couldn’t even pretend to hide his blush this time so he just turned back to the projected film. “Watch the damn movie.”

He did. “I believe he is about to spill his coffee on her,” he said a second later.

And, lo and behold, the guy tripped over nothing and dropped his giant coffee down her shirt.

Spock blinked. “He was — no one was around them, he could have easily avoided her.”

“Shitty romcom, Spock,” Leonard reminded him.

“But it was completely unnecessary. There was no crowd around them. Why did he spill all of it? He could have righted himself in time to avoid that.”

He wanted to laugh at the outburst, but he just recited: “Shitty romcom.”

Spock opened his mouth to continue his criticisms, but his mouth firmly shut as the woman was revealed to be in the restroom as she washed her shirt in the sink. With only a bra on.

“Spock?”

He averted his eyes from the projection. “Leonard, you did not tell me that this movie was explicit.”

Leonard laughed so hard — at the guy “accidentally” walking in on the shirtless woman, Spock’s mortified expression, the implication that bras should be rated R — that he fell off the couch.

***

“Shore leave, Bones,” Jim said excitedly. “Come on, you need to take a break.”

“I’ll take a break after I administer all of these vaccines for shore leave.”

At that, he pressed his hypospray into Jim’s neck.

“Now, get out of here — the faster I get through this, the faster shore leave comes.”

Jim chuckled, but obligingly slid off the biobed. “There’s a pool!”

“The faster shore leave comes, the faster swimming comes,” Leonard added pointedly.

Jim held his hands up in surrender, beginning to walk backwards. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving! Just don’t forget a swimsuit.”

“I won’t, Captain,” Leonard said, somehow making the respectful term downright mocking.

***

And he didn’t forget swim trunks. But, as it turned out, there was no need to worry about them anyway.

“Snow,” Spock confirmed as the planet got closer on the view-screen.

“Snow,” Chekov agreed forlornly.

Jim sighed — they’d all been expecting the stereotypical pool day vacation. “Guess we’re going sledding instead of swimming.”

Leonard looked at the planet next to his spot behind Jim and then to Spock and then back to the planet. “Guess so,” he drawled.

Spock stayed turned away from them.

But it didn’t matter.

Leonard could see how flushed the back of his ears were.

***

“I have been waiting six months and eleven days to do this,” Spock murmured, cupping Leonard’s face in his hand.

They’d managed to escape the rest of the crew when a snowball fight had broken out.

“Those Christmas movies really stuck with you that hard?”

“Indeed, they did.”

Leonard laughed before rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Alright, let’s get to this snow kissing.”

He leaned forward, but —

“Leonard, wait.”

Leonard waited.

“Is it possible that we could break up for a moment?”

He raised his eyebrow.

“To make the kiss more authentic,” Spock supplied helpfully.

Leonard stared at him for a moment, an incredulous grin sliding onto his face. “Spock?” he asked in a voice that was too sweet to actually be sweet.

“Yes?”

“Take what you can get.” And he grabbed Spock by his scarf, dragging him down into a dip before kissing him for a good and long moment.

When he pulled back, Spock actually looked dazed. He straightened out of Leonard’s hold. He wiped the snow off of his face for it to only be replaced a few seconds later.

Leonard was smirking at him.

Spock cleared his throat, fixed the position of his coat. “That was acceptable.”

“Hm… I don’t know, in the movies, they probably shoot a ton of takes,” Leonard mused playfully.

Spock considered this. His cheeks were flushed, but Leonard didn’t know if it was from the cold or the kiss. Probably both. “You’re most likely correct,” he agreed after a moment.

Leonard couldn’t help it when he laughed into the kiss.

Kissing in the snow really was romantic.

[cristobalrios]

[[ I just spent a long time transcribing Rios’s three scenes from “The End is the Beginning” so here they are under the cut: ]]

Star Trek: Picard, season 1, episode 3 “The End is the Beginning” (00:18:50-00:22:12)

[ Outside shot of LA SIRENA. INSIDE we see ADMIRAL PICARD beam aboard. Clip of TNG-Theme plays. PICARD looks around. There is no one in sight. ]

Picard: “Captain Rios?”

[ The EMH enters. He looks exactly like RIOS. We do not yet know that this is not Rios. He comes in enthusiastically. He has a British accent. He is wearing a suit and has straight hair. He seems almost timid ]

EMH: “Oh, hi, hello.”

[ PICARD looks at him. He looks and sounds slightly flustered. He is not what Picard expected. ]

Picard: “Picard.”

[ The EMH shakes his hand enthusiastically. ]

EMH: “Yes, sorry, of course you are. I’m afraid you might be too late,”

[ The EMH turns around and starts walking. PICARD is confused and he looks around. The EMH continues walking and does not look back. ]

EMH: “Right, then. Come on.”

[ CLOSE ON the real CAPTAIN RIOS. He is sitting down, shirtless, lighting a cigar. He has a large piece of tritanium sticking out of a bleeding wound on his right shoulder. His hair is not done neatly like the EMH’s is. It’s disheveled. The EMH walks in behind him with his hands in his pockets. He walks up to RIOS and stands beside him ]

EMH: “Sir, what seems to be the problem?”

[ Zoom out to see RIOS looking up at the EMH. RIOS has a tattoo of a mermaid on his left arm. PICARD is seen walking into the room behind them. The real RIOS has a Spanish accent, not a British one. ]

Rios: “Are you kidding me?”

[ He sounds annoyed. He sees PICARD coming ]

Rios: “Hey.”

[ He takes the cigar out of his mouth. ]

Picard: “Are you–?”

Rios: “Cris Rios. He’s just an EMH.”

[ He gestures to the EMH. ]

EMH: “'Just.'”

[ He sounds bitter. ]

Picard: “I’m, uh–”

Rios: “I know who you are. I read one of your books one time.”

Picard: “What happened to you?”

[ Referring to the big piece of metal still sticking out of his shoulder. RIOS looks at it then takes another inhalation of his cigar. He speaks with it still in his mouth. ]

Rios: “I didn’t die.”

[ PICARD looks incredulous and a bit amused. The EMH talks to the ship’s computer. ]

EMH: “Medkit.”

[ A Medkit is beamed (or replicated?) to the console in front of RIOS. The EMH takes it and moves it down. He opens it as RIOS also speaks to the computer. ]

Rios: “Aguardiente.”

[ A bottle of alcohol appears in the same spot the Medkit did, along with an empty glass. RIOS takes it and pours himself a glass. He picks up the glass and offers it to PICARD. ]

Picard: “No, thanks.”

[ RIOS pours it onto his wound instead. The EMH is scanning him with a medical tricorder. ]

RIOS: “What you want to do is take the giant hunk of tritanium shrapnel out of the hole in my shoulder. That’s just a guess.”

[ He sounds annoyed again. He looks at Picard. ]

RIOS: “Please, sit.”

[ PICARD moves. The TNG theme plays again as PICARD hesitates by the Captain’s chair, which is empty, since RIOS is sitting up by the navigational controls. He moves past it to sit in the chair next to RIOS. He moves a white book off the chair. The book is THE TRAGIC SENSE OF LIFE, by Miguel de Unamuno, Spanish philosophy published in 1912. PICARD looks at it. ]

RIOS: “Toss it anywhere.”

[ PICARD looks at him then places it on an empty space by the console in front of them as he sits down. ]

RIOS: “So, where are we going, Admiral? Raffi says you have no idea.”

[ The EMH is working on RIOS’s shoulder. PICARD is sitting casually on the chair as he moves to look more directly at RIOS. ]

Picard: “I’m working on it.”

Rios: “When are we leaving?”

Picard: “Soon as possible.”

Rios: “You breaking any laws or intending to?”

Picard: “I don’t know. I’m not in the habit of consulting lawyers before I do what needs to be done. You?”

Rios: “I’m not in the habit of consulting anybody about anything. Especially a lawyer.”

[ The EMH takes the tritanium shrapnel out of RIOS’s shoulder. ]

EMH: “There we are.”

[ He puts the bloody piece of metal in a container and moves to pick up other tools. ]

EMH: “Now for the dermal regenerator.”

Rios: “Leave it. Give me that. Get lost.”

[ RIOS takes it. The EMH looks at PICARD. ]

EMH: “He never gets any nicer.”

PICARD: “Duly noted.”

RIOS: “Deactivate EMH.”

[ The EMH is deactivated. Every time they have addressed the computer, they did not need to say “computer” beforehand like on the previous shows. RIOS stands up and turns to look at PICARD. ]

Picard: “I need a pilot. Raffi says you’re the best around.”

Rios: “I never argue with Raffi.”

[ PICARD is amused. ]

Picard: “Wise man. You were the XO of a heavy cruiser…”

Rios: “The Ibn Mājid. You never heard of it because it doesn’t exist. Starfleet erased it from the records.”

[ RIOS puts on a dark blue long-sleeved shirt. He did not use the dermal regenerator on his wound. ]

Picard: “Do I detect a certain bitterness toward Starfleet?”

[ He does. RIOS says nothing, but is looking away from him. He glances toward him but avoids eye contact ]

Picard: “You must know that Starfleet and I long since have parted ways.”

[ RIOS shrugs. ]

Rios: “If you say so.”

[ He sounds lightly skeptical. ]

Rios: “I really don’t give a damn.”

Picard: “Oh, really?”

[ PICARD is also skeptical. He looks around the ship. RIOS walked over toward a console and is doing something, off-screen, possibly with the Medkit? He looks over at PICARD. ]

Picard: “I see this ship is impeccably maintained.”

[ RIOS goes back to whatever he is working on. It doesn’t matter what he is doing. He is just using it as a distraction. ]

Picard: “Every bolt and clasp and fitting in place. Everything stowed in regulation Starfleet order.”

[ RIOS looks at him again. ]

Picard: “I don’t know what happened to you, Rios,”

[ RIOS sits back down again. ]

Picard: “Or to the Ibn Mājid. But five minutes on this ship,”

[ RIOS has picked up the cigar again and put it in his mouth, picking up the book from earlier and leaning back into the chair. ]

Picard: “And I know precisely what I am looking at.”

[ RIOS puts one of his legs up on the console and opens the book. He is trying to seem disinterested. PICARD leans forward. ]

Picard: “You. Are. Starfleet. To the core.”

[ RIOS looks at him. PICARD leans back with a smile on his face. ]

Picard: “I can smell it on you.”

[ The TNG-Theme plays again. ]

Rios: “That’s just my tragic sense of life.”

[ He puts the cigar down and looks at Picard. ]

Rios: “Raffi warned me you were a speechmaker.”

[ He blinks and licks his lips. ]

Rios: “Look, Admiral, hire me or find another pilot. Do not try to get inside my head."

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

Star Trek: Picard, season 1, episode 3 "The End is the Beginning” (00:22:51-00:24:44)

[ RIOS is sitting in a chair, in his quarters, drinking alcohol. Blues music is playing over the speakers. RIOS is reading the same book from before. A hologram appears. This is a different one than the one from earlier. It still looks just like RIOS, but is wearing different clothes and its hair is styled differently. It has an Irish accent. ]

ENH: “The navigation sensors are back at maximum range. Whatever it was, it scraped off pretty easily.”

[ RIOS looks at the hologram as he speaks. This hologram, like the other, sounds more cheerful than we have ever seen the real RIOS be. RIOS grunts in acknowledgement and turns his attention back to the book. ]

ENH: “So, are we excited? Intimidated? Maybe a teensy bit starstruck?”

[ He is leaning forward and walking closer to RIOS, teasing. RIOS looks somewhere between annoyed and amused. ]

ENH: “Jean-Luc Picard. Chief contact with the Q Continuum. Arbitor of Succession for the Klingon Empire. Savior of Earth from Borg invasion.”

[ He is walking back and forth as he talks enthusiastically about PICARD’S accomplishments ]

ENH: “Captain of Enterprises D and E. The man even worked alongside the great Spock.”

[ RIOS looks back up from his book. His hand is on his wounded shoulder. He sounds annoyed but still has a hint of resigned amusement in his voice. ]

Rios: “You are an emergency hologram. We no longer have a navigational emergency.”

[ The ENH looks at him like “So?” ]

Rios: “Why are you still here?”

ENH: “Well, someone is experiencing an acute moodiness overload.”

[ Still both annoyed and amused. He puts his book up closer to his face to block the ENH from view and ignore the hologram more easily. The ENH comes closer, leaning over his book with a smile on his face. RIOS grumbles. ]

ENH: “Picard is a good man, Captain Rios. He’s on the side of the angels.”

[ RIOS puts his book down and looks away. ]

ENH: “It’s been a long time since you helped out somebody like him. Hmm? A very long time.”

[ RIOS stands up and starts walking away ]

Rios: “Please, spare me the juvenile Sunday school morality.”

[ The ENH’S gaze follows RIOS. ]

ENH: “And spare me the angsty teenage moral relativism.”

Rios: “I already had one grand, heroic captain in my life. The last thing I need is another one.”

[ He sounds angrier now thinking about his former captain. ]

Rios: “Ten years on, I still can’t close my eyes at night without seeing the last one’s blood and brains splattered all over a bulkhead. Deactivated ENH.”

[ He is done humoring the hologram. The ENH looks disappointed. ]

ENH: “Ah, no, no, you–”

[ He gets deactivated. RIOS walks right through where the hologram was standing as he disappears, and he sits down in the same chair, now smoking his cigar again. He slides down in the chair and stares up at the ceiling, looking troubled as he stares up at the stars through a sunroof in the ceiling. A meteor briefly flashes ]

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

Star Trek: Picard, season 1, episode 3 "The End is the Beginning” (00:38:56-00:41:46)

[ At CHATEAU PICARD, PICARD'S comm badge beeps. He answers it. ]

Picard: "You're early."

[ On LA SIRENA, RIOS is walking up the stairs in engineering. ]

Rios: "Nope. My sources tell me--"

[ PICARD'S voice is heard over the speakers on LA SIRENA. Rios is walking back onto the bridge. ]

Picard: "What sources?"

Rios: "--It's about to get very hot chez vous." (Translation: "Chez vous" is French for "at yours," but specifically meaning "at your house")

[ Back at CHATEAU PICARD. ]

Picard: "It's already hot."

[ RIOS'S voice is heard from PICARD'S comm badge in his hand. ]

Rios: "Hotter."

Jurati: "Is that your pilot?"

[ PICARD nods. ]

Jurati: "Okay. You have to take me with you, and here's why: A,"

[ on LA SIRENA, RIOS is preparing some containers. JURATI'S voice can be heard over his speakers. He is kneeling down on the ground with the boxes. He places one on top of another. ]

Jurati: "I just killed a man to save your life."

[ RIOS stops to listen when she says that. He seems interested. JURATI sounds determined ]

Jurati: "B."

[ Back at CHATEAU PICARD, LARIS looks over at ZHABAN. ]

Jurati: "You are a good, decent man, capable of empathy and pity,"

[ ZHABAN looks at LARIS, then over at PICARD and JURATI ]

Jurati: "And I am a scientist who has spent her entire life imagining a miracle,"

[ JURATI'S voice is shaky and she is near tears but she is determined to convince him to let her join him. ]

Jurati: "Knowing that it could never come to pass, and now it has,"

[ PICARD smiles sympathetically. He's listening. ]

Jurati: "And it's real, and I have to see her; And C. I don't know how much it costs to go where you're going or--"

[ Back on LA SIRENA, RIOS is working at some holographic controls. JURATI'S voice is heard over the speakers again. ]

Jurati: "--How much this guy charges--"

Rios: "I'm expensive."

[ back at CHATEAU PICARD ]

Jurati: "--But I'm Agnes P. Jurati. I'm the Earth's leading expert on synthetic life, and I promise you, if you take me with you, I will more than earn my keep."

[ PICARD looks impressed. He turns to LARIS. She and ZHABAN are both looking expectantly at PICARD. RIOS'S voice is heard over the comm badge, sounding impatient. ]

Rios: "Time to go."

[ An outside view of LA SIRENA orbiting the EARTH. Inside the ship, both PICARD and JURATI are beamed aboard. PICARD is surprised. ]

Picard: "Raffi? What is this?"

[ RAFFI stands. Picard gestures at RIOS. ]

Picard: "Ah, 'sources.'"

Raffi: "I found Maddox."

Picard: "Where is he?"

Raffi: "I tell you, you promise you'll take me with you?"

Picard: "I would be honored to have you join me."

Raffi: "Oh, no, no I'm--I'm not joining you. Never again. I'm just hitching a ride."

Picard: "To where?"

Raffi: "Bruce Maddox is on Freecloud."

Picard: "Freecloud. Yes, of course."

Jurati: "Why do you want to go to Freecloud?"

Raffi: "Have we met?"

Jurati: "Agnes Jurati,"

[ She offers her hand. RAFFI looks at PICARD incredulously ]

Raffi: "That's it? You're just going to let Agnes here hitch a ride--"

[ JURATI lowers her hand awkwardly. PICARD puts is hand on JURATI'S shoulder. ]

Raffi: "On your top-secret mission?"

Picard: "Dr. Jurati is the Earth's leading expert on synthetic life."

[ RIOS sits down in the captain's chair and touches some holographic controls. ]

Raffi: "You didn't even ask me to run any kind of security check, not even the most basic."

Picard: "Why do you want to go to Freecloud?"

Raffi: "I'm under no obligation to tell that to any of you."

[ RIOS looks impatient ]

Raffi: "And once we get there, you're on your own."

Jurati: "Who are you, lady?"

[ RAFFI looks at her. RIOS talks impatiently ]

Rios: "Can we go already?"

Picard: "Yes, fine."

[ RAFFI takes her seat and PICARD gestures to JURATI to do the same, and she does so eagerly. PICARD looks around and pauses dramatically. The TNG theme starts ]

Picard: "Engage."

[ JURATI laughs, RAFFI looks lightly irritated. RIOS uses the holographic controls to start the ship as we move out of LA SIRENA'S main window, turning to see the EARTH, and LA SIRENA going into warp as the clip of the TNG Theme concludes and we fade to black. ]

[toast-the-unknowing]

Lmaoooooo “when I grow up I’m going to have so much amnesia” pls just post whatever you’ve written over the last ten years I am so INTRIGUED

Well, the subject line is a Futurama quote, I can’t take credit for that, alas.

I am fond of several of the jokes in that story, but at the end of the day, it’s a mystery and I wrote 20k words of it without ever deciding what the answer to the mystery is. The odds I’ll ever bother figuring it out now are slim, especially since I look back and realize...you know...I’ve become a much better writer than I was 10 years ago and most of those 20k words aren’t great.

But some of them I like! So what the hell, why not, here’s some of my favorite bits from a Star Trek 2009 fic that will probably never otherwise see the light of day:

The whole thing with Kirk and Spock losing their memories on the same away trip is funny for a total of three seconds before it becomes utterly terrifying.

Okay, maybe there's about five minutes of Hikaru making himself sick trying to hold in laughter at the stunned stupid look on Kirk's face as he steps onto the bridge, the way that Spock mutters "what an ingenious invention" after they're beamed back to the Enterprise, but hey, Hikaru's only human. And now so is Kirk, stripped of that cockiness that comes from knowing he's survived all kinds of crazy shit that he shouldn't have, and so is Spock in a way, since he seems to have forgotten all his Vulcan mind-master training along with everything else.

And that thought is what wipes the smirk off Hikaru's face and has him exchanging sideways glances with Chekov, because they're right on the edge of Klingon space, Kang had sworn eternal vengeance against the entire crew the last time they'd seen him, and without Kirk's impossible ability to get them out of everything he gets them into, Hikaru doesn't like their odds of escaping a skirmish unharmed.

McCoy skips right over the part where anything about the situation is amusing and even skips over the "utterly terrifying" part and opts straight for angry yelling before the doors of the turbolift have finished opening to allow him onto the bridge.

"What the devil are you playing at now, Jim?" McCoy demands, striding up to Kirk and waving a tricorder at him that he can't possibly be reading, since he's too busy venting at Kirk's face to look at the machine.

The effect of this is apparently lost on the amnesiac Kirk, who looks over his shoulder trying to figure out who McCoy is talking to.

Right. No one told the Captain his name was Jim.

"We're doomed," Chekov whispers to Hikaru, who wholeheartedly agrees.

-

"More tests?" Hikaru asks Chapel. Hikaru hopes he sounds world-weary but in all likelihood he just sounds like a kid whining about not wanting to go to the dentist's. At least when he was a kid his parents would give him some candy to make the whole experience more bearable.

"You've failed them all so far," Chapel tells him.

"Doesn't being healthy count as passing?"

"Not in his Sickbay." She gestures over her shoulder at McCoy, who is ranting to the nurses that he washes his hands of Hikaru, complete with actually physically washing his hands, because McCoy has no concept of subtlety.

-

Maybe it was just the terrible psychological burden of working too long under McCoy that had made her a sadist. Hikaru had helped the med staff repair and restock Sickbay after a disastrous encounter with Romulans, and after two days of McCoy's crazy-eyes drilling into the back of his skull, he hadn't felt terribly generous toward his fellow sentient beings. Kirk, who always had to be perverse and do the opposite of what a normal person would do, had been invigorated by the experience and set some kind of mountain-climbing record on the next planet they stopped at.

-

McCoy must be having a field day, wherever he is; nothing makes him happier than a legitimate reason to be unhappy.

-

He winces and walks over to answer the door, to find Chekov's curly head bouncing around with an upbeat energy that makes Hikaru feel a thousand years old.

"What?" he asks. "Communicator doesn't work?"

"You didn't answer," Chekov points out, which is probably correct. Hikaru hadn't been aware of anything, much less the chirp of a communicator.

"You know," he tells Chekov, stepping back into his room so he can change into a fresh uniform, "when someone is annoyed with you, telling them how it's their fault doesn't make them like you any better. It just makes them more annoyed."

Chekov blinks big, hurt eyes at him. "You are annoyed with me?"

Hikaru just sighs and lets it go. "So what do I need to be told so badly?" he asks, slipping on a new pair of pants and pulling his shirt off. "I'm guessing that if it were good news, it could wait."

"We have Klingons," Chekov tells him, completely matter-of-fact, and Hikaru is never going to share with anyone, least of all Chekov, the fact that his immediate response to this was to think Russians really are that stoic.

His next thought is that he has to get to the bridge, now, so he sets off at a run with Chekov following along behind.

His third thought, that he never did finish getting dressed, takes its own sweet time occurring to him, specifically waiting until the doors to the Bridge open and Uhura looks at him, blinks her eyes at a momentary loss for words, and then smirks.

In retrospect, it will feel pretty good to have made Uhura happy about something in the middle of this whole clusterfuck. At the time, Hikaru just wonders how bad it could really be to eject himself out the nearest airlock.

"Had a disagreement with your uniform, Mr. Sulu?" Uhura asks. "Or have your just decided that today is a good day for swashbuckling?"

Hikaru plays it cool, because there are only so many options available for you when you show up to battle without a shirt on, and because there's an appreciative look in the eyes of more than one person on the Bridge that reminds him that his shirtlessness is not, in and of itself, anything to be ashamed about. "I wanted to be on hand as soon as possible to help with the situation, sir," he tells her, voice completely smooth. He falls into a formal at-ease position that draws the muscles in his chest tight, causing someone to whistle lowly.

The Acting Captain is actively fighting back laughter at this point; Uhura is going to give him shit about this for the rest of his natural life, but then again, Klingons, so Hikaru can't begrudge her trying to make the most of it now in case the rest of his natural life is only another ten minutes. "Mr. Chekov, please restrain your dramatics in the future," she tells him, and the ensign takes on a look of righteous outrage that is decades older than his face. "Perhaps you could have communicated to Mr. Sulu that another second or two's delay would not have been fatal."

"I thought it obvious, sir," Chekov says, primly. "No Russian would charge into battle in such a state of unpreparedness."

"Because they'd freeze to death on a summer's day," Hikaru mutters.

-

"How?" Uhura asks, with that same fake innocent tone she uses when she's trying to convince everyone at the table that she's got a shit hand, and dammit, Hikaru has fallen for that bluff too many times. After which he was often divested of an article of clothing, oddly enough, so the whole thing is starting to feel really familiar.

-

Kang is even willing to deal with someone who isn't Kirk, as long as Kirk is there to have accusations and insults hurled at him, which is some kind of horrible metaphor for command but Hikaru is still trying to force his jaws together and doesn't quite appreciate the many, many cosmic jokes that are unfurling in front of him.

-

Every single person on the bridge of the Enterprise who still has a brain freezes and darts their eyes to the view screen at the exact same second. Later that simultaneity would make Hikaru wonder why the hell the dancing had been so uncoordinated in the crew's performance of Pirates of Penzance, since clearly they are all psychically linked to each other. Or perhaps psychic connections require substantial motivational force. Few things are more substantial or more motivating than enraged Klingons, and – as every eyeball except two immediately takes in – they have one hell of an enraged Klingon on their hands.

"WHAT CHARADE IS THIS," Kang demands, spitting out 'charade' like it's the dirtiest word he knows. Apparently Klingon honor doesn't have much time for theater. Hikaru wonders what Klingons do for embarrassing social bonding in lieu of Pirates of Penzance.

-

"Oh, good, so we can tell them that we aren't responsible, they'll listen to that and act reasonable," McCoy mutters, before jabbing Kirk with something on the pretense of getting more brainwave readings. McCoy has been dragging Kirk around the ship with him all morning for reasons as yet unexplained. Hikaru's torn on thinking it's to cause more havoc, since every little thing that happens inspires a thousand pointless questions from the deposed captain, and thinking it's so he can stab at Kirk like some stress relief toy. It doesn't seem to be working, but modern science has not yet found a conduit big enough to channel McCoy's stress, so that would be asking a bit much to ask from a guy who needed help going to the bathroom earlier. (Hikaru made Chekov do it. That's what ensigns are for, right?)

-

Chapel had proclaimed the whole thing hogwash and said she would get around to it when she had a minute, and implied that that minute was going to be a long time coming, because apparently that attitude was handed down with command of Sickbay like the crown of a hereditary monarch.

-

Besides, there's the Klingons to consider, and even Scotty can't make hooch so strong it wipes out the memories of people on other ships. Probably. Hikaru will ask him about it when his memory is back, and they will write a paper together, "A Transwarp Theory of Moonshine", and it will ruin both of their chances of ever advancing up the command chain, which would probably suit Scotty just fine and would be the best thing to ever happen to Hikaru if it means he never has to deal with a mess like this again.

-

"When we get to the point where we're recruiting untested specialists from alternate dimensions to solve the problem, just leave me brainless," Chapel scoffs. "I don't want to know."

Hikaru scribbles a note to himself. Evil clones running the Enterprise becomes Plan Y; stealing versions of themselves from other dimensions becomes Plan Z. He thinks they have a better chance of un-fixing the teleporter to make clones again than of making it pull people from other dimensions.

-

Chekov bounds down the hall at him – speaking of teenagers – and apparently the gloom is rolling off Hikaru thick enough to strike down an enthusiastic ensign at fifty paces, because the spring goes right out of Chekov's step when Hikaru looks at him. His faces turns somber and he tugs on his uniform shirt like he's worried about wrinkles. Or maybe he just remembered that this is a catastrophe in the making and a little gravity is called for.

He nearly takes it too far, though, going for a salute and Hikaru thinks that if Chekov salutes him right now he will actually go insane. He intercepts Chekov's arm on the way up and drops it back down like its covered in nettles. Chekov looks a little confused about how to proceed from here, but hell, the kid's always telling them he's a genius, let him figure something out.

-

He picks up Chapel like a leech; when he refuses to stop in Sickbay she just attaches herself to him and starts talking every bit as rapidly as Hikaru is walking. He can't tell how she's breathing. Maybe she isn't. Hikaru feels a little bit like he isn't breathing, either, or that might just be his flair for the dramatic.

He gets distracted, too, by the nurse who is accompanying Chapel, holding several PADDS and a medical tricorder and struggling to hold it all and drop nothing and keep up on her rather short legs. Maybe they could slow down for her, but hell, Chapel's her boss and isn't worried.

Hikaru can't remember the nurse's name. That's a panicky moment, but no, it's just that she's new. Should he ask her name, he wonders, or would that be rude? As the captain, however temporary or inglorious the title may be, he should know everyone on the crew already.

At least the crew is making that easier on him by shrinking.

-

"Stress is every bit a real, medical problem, particularly among young men in high-pressure situations who think they're immortal." This comes with a side order of meaningful look.

"I assure you, Nurse, I am well-aware of my failings."

"And I'm seeing drastically heightened stress all over the ship. Heart rate, blood pressure, shaking, forgetfulness -- not amnesia -- emotional outbursts -- "

"Maybe the crew doesn't like having medical personnel hovering all around them." Hikaru jumps as the short nurse waves her tricorder over him, presumably getting a reading of his own heart rate, blood pressure, and emotional outbursts. "I'm open to any suggestions about how to lower the crew's stress levels, up to and including Ensign Chekov going door to door singing Russian lullabies."

"I'll put that down as Plan Z," Chapel says, and holy shit, can she read his mind? He makes himself think profusely repentant thoughts for his attitude the last two days and also for that time he sneaked a look at her hand at poker, just in case. Also, he probably shouldn't play poker with Chapel anymore, honest or otherwise, if she can read his mind.

-

That, that right there, is apparently what Chapel looks like when she is truly outraged and not just annoyed or sarcastic or feeling superior, which is a valuable piece of information and Hikaru files it away in the very sincere and fervent hope that he never sees it again.

"You know, just, some people," the Acting Captain of the Federation Starship Enterprise mumbles into his shoulder.

-

"How did we get here?" Hikaru mutters. He's barely even realized he's spoken, so it's doubly alarming when Chekov jumps up and grabs his shoulders, shakes them violently.

"Sulu, no, you cannot have amnesia, too," the kid starts babbling. Why is it that his accent gets easier to understand when he's worked up? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Unless, hang on, has the kid been faking his accent this whole time? "Then I will have to take command of the Enterprise and while that is a thing I have dreamed of doing, it is no good to me if no one is around to admire."

[adambstingus]

6 Backward Ideas Hollywood Still Has About Men

Men are complicated, nuanced beings. No two men define masculinity the same way, and each of their boners hides its own precious secret. Many are desperate for every woman to love them, while at the same time compelled to explain their own jokes to them on Twitter. But despite the vast and wondrous spectrum that is man, Hollywood seems to have extremely specific ideas of what a man is supposed to be. And it’s not super great.

6

If You’re Less Than 6 Feet Tall, You’re Not A Real Man

You can be the most handsome, witty, charismatic male on Earth, but if you’re one inch below average height, then tough shit. Hollywood will desperately avoid revealing that awful truth to the audience, lest they vomit in the aisles with disgust. Such is the life of a short action star.

If shortness is acknowledged on screen, it’s as a punchline — a hilarious inadequacy that either leads to constant, desperate attempts at comedy or a life of crime as a bad guy’s sidekick. Movies would have us believe that short people live a life of existential struggle, that they are nothing more than incomplete souls crying out from children’s clothes.

The average height of an American male is 5 feet 9.5 inches tall. (Strangely enough, surveys reveal this is the exact same length of the average American penis.) Tom Cruise is famously 2.5 inches shorter than this average, but we only know that because our own insecurity demands we find a flaw, any flaw, in this 54-year-old man with 2 percent body fat and chiseled features that become only more handsome with age. Yet you’d never know he was a tiny man from watching his movies. For example, Ving Rhames is over 6 feet, but he’s shorter than Tom in that picture up there. How? Is he sitting down? Forty yards behind him? Take look at another shot from Mission: Impossible …

Mark Whalberg is 5’8 and Zac Efron is 5’8. Sylvester Stallone is barely two apples high. And yet every time they’re in a movie, they are looking all the normal people in the eyes, filmmakers forcing them to stand on little boxes to hide that they are grotesque, undersized genetic failures.

And god forbid we reveal that the 5’9 Robert Downey Jr. is in fact 3 inches shorter than Chris Evans. We could do this all day!

Question: Do you think this weird prejudice is with filmmakers or audiences? Do you really think we’d refuse to be inspired by a hero who possesses every other positive trait on Earth — courage, humor, charm, muscles, wealth, confidence, sexuality — if they can comfortably ride in the back seat of a Civic? It’s not like we’re expecting the hero to solve every mystery and defeat every bad guy with slam dunks. Although now that we think about it, that sounds like a pretty sweet goddamn movie.

So if you’re a short (or even average height!) male watching, then guess what: The only trait that apparently matters is the one you can’t do anything about.

5

You Can’t Just Be Smart; You’ve Also Got To Kick Ass

Back in the 1980s, we didn’t care if our burly action heroes could say anything coherent. Arnold Schwarzenegger talked like a moose trying to describe the peanut butter in its mouth, and Sylvester Stallone sounded like that same moose gently lowering itself onto a whoopee cushion. We didn’t care, though, because their swollen pecs and rattling M60s did all the talking for them.

“Aarraragaooooaaahhhh!!!” — John Rambo

In an ’80s action movie, diplomacy was a dick-measuring contest with a stick of dynamite, and Jean-Claude Van Damme always won. Heroes weren’t paid to be smart; they were paid to strangle mooks and walk silently away from exploding gas stations.

We’re obviously so much more sophisticated these days. The good guys in movies can’t be musclebound meat sacks anymore — they have to hold multiple PhDs and have a particular set of skills for every occasion. Ethan Hunt can speak 75 languages while maintaining the sexy abs of Instagram’s douchiest bro. Jason Bourne can predict his opponents’ every move ten steps in advance. Even the biggest, dumbest superhero, the Hulk, spends most of his movies as one of the planet’s leading scientists.

Marvel Studios To be fair, this is a pretty smart way to take down a fighter jet.

It would be nice to think that the message is “Even nerds can be cool!” But these guys don’t win by being nerds. In nearly every case, the real heroism comes in the form of a punch to the throat.

Remember those Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes movies, in which Sherlock uses his brilliant mind to beat the shit out of guys in shirtless pit fights? That was weird, right? But at least it shows him fighting as a hobby, to get good at it — the BBC version also wins every fistfight he’s in and can easily out-dive exploding bombs. You also might remember in the new Star Trek movies, wherein Mr. Spock uses his Vulcan logic to form plans like “Hold my beer, I’m going to go fuck that guy up.”

Warner Bros. Pictures “I can tell by the speck of paint on your shoes that your face is quite susceptible to temple punches.”

Take Tony Stark out of the Iron Man suit, and he can still beat the hell out of a mansion full of henchmen in Iron Man 3. When Transformers 4 needed a nerdy inventor protagonist, it cast this guy:

In fact, if you’re in a Hollywood film and you realize you’re only brilliant, we have some bad news for you: You’re not the hero. In fact, you’re probably the obnoxious sidekick nerd. Check to see if you’re Simon Pegg or Seth Green. If you’re not, we have more bad news: You’re probably the villain.

The message is clear, boys: Brains are fine, but only if you use them to invent better punching. And if you use your mind exclusively for non-punching endeavors, you’re either ridiculous or evil.

4

Broken, Tortured Men Are Sexy

There’s something sexy about a dead-serious man willing to do anything to get the job done. The Batmans and Liam Neesons of the world, men who ruthlessly cut through criminal organizations while brooding about the atrocities they’ve been forced to commit. Even the supposedly goody-two-shoes Superman now scowls as he struts out of exploded court houses filled with charred corpses and jars of pee. Is any of this sexiness getting you hot and bothered yet? Too bothered?

They are almost never seen eating, but always drink. If they’re in bed, they’re having nightmares about those they’ve lost (or, you know, having sex). They are emotionally cold and distant when they’re not being glib. This is all done in the name of emotional complexity, but can we still call it that when every character is the same?

For example, why does Hollywood refuse to accept Superman as simply a morally sound hero who genuinely wants to help people? Struggling to protect those weaker than him is a perfectly legitimate problem. Did they think we couldn’t relate to him unless he cried in an ice cave like he’s in an Evanescence music video? Did they think he’d look like a “pussy” if he didn’t destroy an entire city and snap Zod’s neck in front of two children?

Every action movie and show seems to be in an arms race to give their stars the most severe PTSD or the highest number of dead loved ones. It used to be we that showed how grizzled a cop was by how old the Chinese takeout was in his filthy refrigerator. Now it’s measured by how many times he flashes back to his family getting tied to chairs and set aflame.

It’s not like this is making these characters more relatable to young males. (“See, he has problems just like you!”) After all, it’s not like they are heroic despite their tortured psychology, or that it’s something to overcome. The psychological damage is the source of their power — John Wick is a boring retired dude until a pair of tragedies utterly destroy his life, at which point he expresses his grief through numerous therapeutic sessions of gun-fu. Mad Max’s defining character trait is that he never smiles, jokes, or shares anything about himself — telling a comrade his name is treated as a shocking breakthrough.

At every turn, the message is the same: You’re not a true, sexy badass unless you’re a tortured shell of a man.

3

Movie Princes Are Non-People

A lot of analysis has gone into movie princesses, specifically the ones Disney has been cranking out for most of a century. That’s because for decades, they were the only lead female characters in kids movies, which put a lot of pressure on them to be positive role models. They taught young girls how to believe in themselves and be courageous, but also that a woman’s greatest virtues are good looks and shutting up.

We’re not paraphrasing; that’s literally a verse in a Disney song.

Still, no matter who you are, there’s a solid chance you can name ten Disney princesses off the top of your head. On the other hand, can you name more than two or three Disney princes? Probably not, because most of the movies don’t even bother giving the poor bastards names. The characterization of the princesses might send mixed messages, but the princes are forgettable handsome shells containing zero personality and a fetish for teen girls. They exist only to rescue the women.

Cinderella’s dream husband? He doesn’t have a name. Beast from Beauty And The Beast? Aside from that mean nickname, he has no actual name. Snow White’s prince? Maybe he’s a Trevor? Could be a Graham or a Tony. We’ll never know, because the writers didn’t think the character was worth naming. These movies give names to the horses and the mice, but not the princes.

The main characters are supposed to spend the rest of their lives with these guys, and the only thing we know about them is that they’re single, heterosexual, and not child molesters. Except wait — we don’t know any of that. The only thing we know about Disney princes is that they fall in love easily and have no problem putting their mouths on sleeping strangers. Finding a girl in the woods and licking her awake isn’t a great contribution to a relationship.

The point is that when it comes to royal romances, a princess brings dynamic character and a sense of adventure. A prince is handsome and has nothing better to do. We suppose the rebuttal is that these are fantasies for little girls and not boys, but that doesn’t make it any better. What’s the message for them? “Some day you’ll meet a walking mannequin who will be perfect for you for one reason: He’s a prince.“

2

Prison Rape Is Hilarious

Jokes about female rape are still circulating out there (though not as many as were a few years ago), but it was always rare, if not unheard of, to see a movie play a violent male-on-female sexual assault for laughs. But if the victim is a male and doing time? It seems there is nothing funnier.

It’s this reprehensible nightmare of a thing — the worst thing happening in the worst possible circumstances — yet Hollywood cannot get enough of prison rape jokes. To show you how easy going we are about it, realize that every time anyone ever joked “Don’t drop the soap!” they were hilariously referring to a criminal raping you. Jokes about it are so acceptable they show up on SpongeBob SquarePants. They refer to it in Naked Gun and Guardians Of The Galaxy, and they hang the entire plot of Get Hard on it. If Will Ferrell and Kevin Hart had negotiated their contract to get paid $15 per rape joke, they could have tripled their multi-million-dollar salaries. This is a real, horrible phenomenon that’s happening to someone, somewhere, right now.

The unspoken implication is that these victims deserve it. Really? Is that what we’re going with — that our civilized society has built a justice system in which one of the punishments for selling weed or stealing a car is the possibility of being violated? Even if Congress codified that into the law, even if we decided that rape is a suitable punishment for tax evasion, it would still be super weird to joke about it. And if the victim is himself a rapist, so what? You’re trivializing the very thing he’s guilty of.

This is, in fact, part of a larger trend …

1

Men Are Cannon Fodder

In the real world, human life is a precious thing to be protected by all means. In a movie, lives are snuffed out as punchlines. Human bodies get blasted into pieces any time a film needs to pick up the momentum, and when we say “human,” we specifically mean “men’s.”

Yeah, we talk about how filmmakers and moviegoers are desensitized to violence, but that’s not true — it’s only violence against men. Let’s look at an example. In this fleeting moment of awesomeness from Batman v. Superman, Batman bursts up through the floor and pounds the shit out of a group of thugs.

He’s still working through the sting of not getting a Best Director nomination for Argo.

It’s pretty fun, right? Now imagine it was a warehouse full of women. Everything else is the same. They’re still armed, still up to no good, but every time Batman crushes one of their collar bones, it’s a woman’s voice screaming out in pain. Turn up the sound on that clip — imagine every painful grunt is a female voice. Imagine if the heads Batman smashed into the floor had ponytails and eye shadow.

We’re not even sure that sequence makes it into the theater — somebody at the studio would get Zack Snyder some counseling as soon as they saw the script. It’s not because women would be no physical match for Batman; nobody is a match for Batman. He is tearing through those guys like a rat terrier loose in a hamster cage. The fact is, that kind of violence toward women would hit you in the gut. When it’s dudes, it’s either awesome or hilarious.

You can do this with any action movie. Imagine watching Return Of The Jedi, only every time a Stormtrooper head is bashed in by an Ewok, you hear a female scream. It would be chilling — the cops would kick in George Lucas’ door and assume he has a crowd of female corpses in his freezer. It’d be equally weird if he had, say, given the battle droids in the prequels Jennifer Tilly’s voice. And remember in The Two Towers when Legolas and Gimli are whimsically counting out their kills? Can you picture that being the same kind of fun if those were female orcs?

In fact, find any movie in which a human death is treated as slapstick, make the victims female, and you are left with a video suitable only for a serial killer’s crawlspace. Indiana Jones once comically shot three Nazis with a single bullet:

If you can’t watch the clip, there’s a little comedy music cue that plays as their bodies slump aside. Imagine all three are women; at the very least, it becomes deeply uncomfortable. (“Uh, was Spielberg going through a rough divorce when they made this?”)

And no, we’re obviously not demanding Hollywood show more women getting butchered to make it equal. We’re not demanding they show us fewer dead dudes. We’re just saying that we’ve definitely been conditioned to react a certain way to on-screen brutality, and the difference between dread and hilarity is usually whether or not the victim has a penis.

That’s weird, right?

Guy Bigel is a professional flute player, and he uploads fun arrangements to his YouTube channel. Check out his stuff here. Jordan Breeding has a blog, a Twitter, and wishes Hollywood would portray him as a super nerd with biceps the size of basketballs.

For more horrible ways Hollywood influences us, check out 6 Obnoxious Assumptions Hollywood Makes About Women and 6 Insane Stereotypes That Movies Can’t Seem to Get Over.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/6-backward-ideas-hollywood-still-has-about-men/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/176405958897