#are they ALL placed as the flavor crew member on different ships

[betterbemeta]

I wish we got more non-humanoid species as regular starfleet crew members. I know that budgetary constraints are real. And I don't want to take away from, or hide the performance of human actors starring on a TV show-- we want to show human diversity and excellence. But I feel I have to suspend my disbelief to trust the Federation welcomes all peaceful sentient life when almost everyone on the bridge is some kind of Hominid Biped.

I want to believe that there are some civilizations that find encountering a Starfleet vessel 'ridiculous':

You break down in space and your distress call is connected by an evolved dolphin. She has somebody place a BLÅVINGAD at the chair every time she remotely covers this station.

The captain comes on screen and he's an 80 year old furry. He is standing slightly to the side because the conn officer's giant Aurelian bird wings get in the way of the forward screen camera.

You explain your situation about your busted engines. The captain nods and asks a dinosaur in a onesie about how much time the crew on duty has available. This is his first officer.

After consulting the lead engineer (a goth), it looks like if 'everybody' wants to attend the rave on board tonight this is a two-day job.

As a compromise and a show of goodwill, the captain invites you to the rave and also throws in free health care. A giant non-anthropomorphic spider beams aboard your ship. She's the chief medical officer.

[ohdearlingwhathappened]

Our All Blue

Gn!reader x Sanji

Just a soft moment between you and the resident Strawhat cook

Cw: nothing that I can think of, but if you find anything please let me know!

       The sun was beating down on the Thousand Sunny harder than it had in a while, and the entire crew was feeling the effects. Even Luffy, who could normally be found giggling and running around the ship, was practically deflated on the bow of the ship. Some members of the ship were fairing somewhat better than others, whether it be by pushing through it and training, or just being used to the heat.

       “SANJIIII,” Luffy loudly whines out, trying to draw the cook’s attention away from the dinner he was currently working on. “Can’t you make something to cool down with?”

       The blonde man peeks his head out of the kitchen and yells out, “Sure! I’ll have some refreshments ready in just a moment!” And true to his word, he practically twirls out of the kitchen’s door with two trays of drinks, passing them out to each person he passes. With one drink left, Sanji goes searching for the one person he hasn’t been able to find. Finally, he’s able to track down (Y/n) sitting in the aquarium staring up at all the different kinds of fish.

       “A nice, cold drink for my favorite person. I was even able to sneak you some of the fruit from the kitchen without Luffy noticing.” Sanji places down a delightfully blue drink and a small bowl of assorted fruit next to one of the newest members of the crew, who smiles brightly back up at him.

       “Thanks, Sanji!” (Y/n) picks up their drink and take a sip. A calm smile overtakes their face as they taste the wonderful, fruity flavors with the subtle notes of mint which would help anyone be refreshed by a single sip. “Awesome, as per usual. This was really needed on a day like this.” They look back at the tank of colorful fish before them, and the blonde sits to the left of them, close enough to brush against their shoulder, and so their right arm still had access to the treat.

       “I know I’ve already sat down, but may I join you?” He sneaks a peak down at them, and they glance up at him with a smile and a barely visible warmth to (Y/n)’s face. They quickly nod and bring their attention back to the aquarium.

       After a few minutes had passed, (Y/n) jumps, having realized Sanji had probably paused making dinner to make the crew drinks and to spend time with them, “Oh, what about dinner?”

       A chuckle escapes him as he shakes his head, leaning against them a bit more fully, “Don’t worry about it. I was nearly done when our dear captain requested something to cool him off. All that needs to be done is for it to be seared and then served. Besides, I’d like to spend some time with you.”

       “Oh. Oh! Um.. ok!” (Y/n) relaxes against him, and Sanji simply wraps an arm around their waist. As the room is filled with nothing but the sound of the water filtration and the waves from the outside ship, any previous awkwardness quickly fades from the room.

       “You know… we may be far from finding the All Blue, but I think this may be a decent placeholder. Right, Sanji?” (Y/n) looks up at the man, who looks down at them as if the elusive ocean can be found in their eyes alone.

       “I think you’re right, amore. I think this is our own All Blue.”

[heliopauseentertainments]

New Holidays

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: General

Relationship: Background Megatron/Rodimus Characters: Megatron, Nautica, Velocity

Summary: In which Nautica and Velocity forcibly invite Megatron into partaking in an annual festival.

Takes place after the events of Reforged. A not-quite Hanukkah fic

Crossposting: AO3 | Dreamwidth

Fic below cut.

Velocity deposited a tray full of small, blue pucks smothered in some kind of pale frosting and presumably flavored shavings on his desk, an absolutely gleeful grin on her face. Nautica stood at her side, also beaming.

It had been a long time since Megatron had felt so threatened.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, giving the colorful pucks a skeptical squint.

These looked… festive.

But why?

He knew that the Way of Flame had a minor festival this time of year, paradoxically celebrating the rare corrosive, midwinter rains on the arid moon (even when it was only winter in one hemisphere); he had read extensively about the religious calendar to be sure that he wouldn’t be caught being inappropriately impious whenever they were on Caminus. The last thing they needed was to lose their one safe harbor.

However, he hadn’t really expected to be confronted with religious holidays while they were away on the Lost Light. There were only two Camiens aboard and neither Nautica nor Velocity had shown much interest in openly celebrating any cultural or religious events. At least, not that Megatron was aware of.

Now, though, as opposed to the last time this festival would have rolled around during the ship’s adventures, one thing was markedly different: Megatron was now, nominally, an adherent to the same faith.

Belief or lack thereof aside, the red paint under his eyes spoke to a level of socio-cultural belonging. He was one of them whether he liked it or not.

“These are Imbrix cookies.”

Velocity’s grin could have been classified as a weapon capable of city-level destruction. No medic should have that level of cheer, not on a ship full of idiots who were prone to hurting themselves at the slightest provocation.

“See?” She pointed to the little blue sprinkles; they twinkled in the light, probably containing some manner of glitter. “These symbolize rain drops.”

Not terribly subtle symbolism, but he supposed subtlety was far from the point.

It was evident that Nautica and Velocity had gone to an awful lot of trouble to make these… cookies. Preparing Camien cuisine looked to be fairly time intensive compared to the Cybertronian preference for the occasional candy or overly complicated beverage.

The two crew members were practically vibrating where they stood while Megatron struggled with determining how to best respond to being so unavoidably confronted with the cultural implications of his gallows choices. He, frankly, hadn’t expected to live long enough to experience consequences.

Maybe if he ate one of the cookies…. Just one. That ought to satisfy their desire for religious solidarity and togetherness.

Megatron reached out and cautiously picked up one of the decorated cookies, holding it delicately like it might explode.

Maybe Rodimus would want one too. Was he allowed to save one for him? The Way of Flame didn’t have any particulars about food handling, having developed on a world of such scant resources, but Spectralism did… when it was convenient for Rodimus to get out of eating something he didn’t want.

Anything that could be interpreted as a treat was generally acceptable, even if it had been handled by non-Spectralists. Given that there were barely any more Spectralists aboard than the three adherents to the Way of Flame, Rodimus and his co-religionists had long ago had to accept some concessions for practicality.

Though, he doubted Rodimus would turn down a cookie, of all things.

Meanwhile, Nautica and Velocity were still aggressively beaming at him while he sat there, cookie in hand like a fool.

If it was going to explode, it would have by now. And taken his hand with it.

Might as well.

He popped it in his mouth.

“We’re having a brook building party later—We got you a kit to make it easy since it’s your first one.”

He nearly choked on the cookie.

--

The door slid shut as Nautica and Velocity left the captains’ quarters, well into the evening.

Water babbled in the artificial Imbrix “brook” Nautica and Velocity had forced him to assemble. A gift, they had called it when they had presented it to him at the “party” that they had decided would be in the captains’ quarters.

They had “forgotten” to take the speakers playing seasonally appropriate music with them. A calm voice extolling the virtues of getting caught in the frigid monsoon and letting their plating corrode in places as thanks for the moon’s natural cycles powering their way of life.

Streamers and bunting festooned the walls, the ceiling… all in colorful bursts of blue, green, and purple. Confetti littered the floor from where Velocity had thrown it into the air. The confetti had been the compromise to splashing him with a cup of water, a popular seasonal prank that had been deemed inappropriate to spring on someone who couldn’t be expecting it.

 At least Rodimus had been on the bridge for the duration so he hadn’t been made to witness and enjoy Megatron’s discomfort.

Unfortunately, he would return home at any moment to partake in the aftermath.

Maybe Megatron could pacify his partner’s inevitable mockery with the tray of cookies that Nautica had decided to bake in the quarters’ small refinery. The sweet silvery smell of the precious metals used in the frosting still clung to the otherwise stale spaceship air.

At least they hadn’t brought over any engex, a courtesy to Megatron’s long-standing refusal to consume it.

The “brook” was a fountain, of sorts, meant to simulate a natural waterway filling a lake or reservoir slowly filling up over the course of ten days. Almost all the waterways on Caminus were seasonal: dry for the vast bulk of the year but annually filling to bursting when the torrential rains arrived. The month ahead of the festivities was used by engineers installing temporary hydrodynamic power equipment along these waterways to harness the energy. The month afterward was spent collecting the water for use in industrial applications.

Nautica and Velocity had gotten him a small one, the size to comfortably be set on a table for the duration of the holiday, rather than larger ones meant for public display. These were usually assembled by hand, but this had been a kit meant for new-builds learning how to celebrate for the first time, with the complicated pumps and fiddly components already prepared for installation.

After the whirlwind of “festivities” forced upon his living space by community-seeking crew members, Megatron found himself standing dumbly in front of the table that had been dragged to the center of the living area, watching the low level of water go about its short but elaborately turning course as the presently unfamiliar music echoed in the room.

He was to add a specified amount of water to its reserves each morning—at “sunrise”—of the festival, reciting a blessing each time. By the tenth morning, the reservoir from which the brook cycled would be completely full.

And the celebration would be complete.

On Caminus, it would be topped off by a festive communal feast, bracketed by songs and prayers of thanksgiving and mechs jumping into the seasonal lakes despite the risk of rust. The hydrobots would enjoy it, he thought.

Aboard the Lost Light, however, Nautica and Velocity had decided to simply include Megatron in their celebratory morning fueling, giving him an invitation to meet with them and recite the appropriate blessing in ten days. They couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t be splashed since he had now been warned.

Behind his back, the door to the hallway slid open.

“Whoa, babe, you had a party in here?”

A crime Megatron had never once before been accused of: throwing a house party. Today was full of all manner of new experiences.

He had even enjoyed most of them, but an entirely new holiday was a lot to take in all at once, especially with such an… enthusiastic community to welcome him into it.

Rather than explain why their shared quarters were covered in cheap, festive decorations or why he was standing in front of a display of domesticated hydro-engineering, Megatron merely sighed and pointed despondently towards the refinery.

“There are cookies.”

And he knew that in the morning, just as surely as he would correct the red paint under his optics, he would add water to the brook, say the blessing, and introspect.

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Void - Part 7 (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 10.9k

Part 7 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: explicit sexual content, alcohol masturbation, voyeurism, more non-monogamy

The men at the table stare at you, dumb-founded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin spins around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions. Namjoon leans back in his chair, face unreadable, his chin resting on his hand as he looks from you to your powerpoint. Jin laughs uncomfortably then clears his throat and silence falls again.

Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your powerpoint about how we should all start fucking?”  

“It’s important to cite your sources,” you mutter, shuffling your feet.

Taehyung sits up straighter on his cot. “Are you saying we should start fucking you or each other?”

“Well, the bonobos do both. They are fully bisexual. Almost all aggressive contests are settled by sex. Even when two males squabble over a female, they often resolve it by rubbing their genitals together.”

“What?” Hoseok injects. “You want us to start rubbing our genitals together?” His cheeks blush.

“No, no, no.” You shake your head. “I meant you all should have sex with me.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say it. “I can’t control what you do with other people. In an ideal world, it would be both. But it seemed best to start with me.”

Jungkook mouths the words “start with” to himself, still staring at the table.

“But like, how would that work logistically?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, there are seven of you, so that could be like one per day. Take a week off for my period.”

Jimin splutters, whirling to face Yoongi. “Did you put her up to this?”

Yoongi shakes his head, frowning.

“No one put me up to this!” you argue. “This is what I think is best for the mission.”

An explosion of opinions pours out of all the men at once. Hoseok is swearing under his breath. Taehyung is trying to get Jimin’s attention, but Jimin is arguing with Yoongi. Jungkook wants to know how you decide who goes first. Jin says something to Namjoon that you can’t hear.

“So, um…” You struggle to regain command of the room over the chatter. “My period starts tomorrow, so take a few days to think about it.”

“Officer.” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts over everyone else and the conversation at the table ceases. “You and I need to speak privately. Now.”

The commander stands up from the table and gestures toward the door. The rest of the crew looks back and forth between the two of you wearing expressions of shock and confusion.

You avoid their gazes as you follow Namjoon’s direction out into the hallway. He steps out after you, closing the door behind him. A flurry of chatter resumes after the door shuts, but it’s too muffled to hear what the rest of the crew are saying. You and Namjoon stare at each other.

“So…” you say, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Let’s talk in my office,” he says, squeezing past you and moving in the direction of the sleep pods.

You examine him from behind as you follow him to his office, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. Are his shoulders tense? Is he angry with you? Are you about to be scolded?

His office is also his bedroom. And you did just offer to fuck him, no strings attached. But of all your crew, Namjoon is the one that you have the most strictly professional relationship with. His walls are almost as impenetrable as yours. But he is a man, right? And men like sex, right? It would have been more awkward to not include him. This wasn’t about personal feelings. It was about the mission. And you were all in the mission together.

________

Sweat pools at the base of your spine under the hot studio lights. A reporter drums her long red nails on her clipboard as the sound technician adjusts the microphones between interviews.

Press junkets are your least favorite part of the job, made all the worse by your mission director insisting you all dress in full launch gear, despite the launch still being two weeks away.

“This is the last one.” Namjoon turns around from his front and center seat to whisper to the rest of the crew.

Yoongi groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Why do we have so many of them when they all ask the same questions?”

The eight of you have been trapped in this room all day as a parade of different reporters trail in and ask the same inane questions.

This new reporter opens with a softball. “How’s the food?”

“Good!” Namjoon patiently answers this question for the third time today. “The ICSE has recruited the top food scientists to figure out which foods hold their flavor and nutrition best in long term storage. And our chief botanist here is going to keep us well stocked with fruits and vegetables. Right, officer?” He gestures for you to chime in.

“Yup!” You are grateful to Namjoon for pitching you a question that isn’t about you being the only woman in a crew full of men. You’ve already had to explain how periods in space work twice today (short answer: pretty much the same way they work on Earth). “We have lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, bean, soy, carrots, cabbage, chilis, potatoes, lemons, oranges and strawberries, plus a bunch of fresh herbs. They even found a way for us to grow mushrooms out of our culinary compost.”

The reporter makes a disgusted face at the idea of compost mushrooms and pivots to a new line of questioning. “What will you miss most about home?”

“Why don’t we go around the group?” Namjoon prompts. Even your commander seems to be fading in enthusiasm by this point. “I’m going to miss long walks in the fresh air, and my family, of course.”

Most of the crew answers with some variation of friends and family. Yoongi will miss his brother’s cooking. Taehyung will miss his dog who is going to live with his parents. Jungkook will miss long showers and his mom.

“What’s one personal item you’re taking with you?” she asks.

Namjoon is bringing a Chinese elm bonsai tree that he calls his tiny friend. Hoseok is bringing a stuffed Earth plushie given to him by his niece. Jin is bringing vodka.

The reporter narrows her eyes at the mention of alcohol and leans forward. “So what do you do if you feel a crew member’s judgement has been compromised?”

“We have protocols in place,” Namjoon answers. “Tests of cognitive impairment and such. We’re also coached in what we call “expeditionary behaviors” which are key to maintaining peace and cooperation on board.

Yoongi chimes in. “The key to solving all disputes is our ability to be honest with each other. When there is a problem, we sit down as a group and discuss it.”

“Our readers are saying what a tragedy it is that we are shipping seven of our most eligible bachelors off to space for a decade.” She laughs. “Any broken hearts being left here on Earth?”

“Oh!” Namjoon draws back and looks unsuredly at the rest of the group. This was not a question he was expecting to be asked today. “Umm…” he laughs nervously.

“My mom is devastated!” Jin cracks from the back row and the rest of the crew laughs in relief.

But the reporter doesn’t want to let go of this idea so quickly, so she turns to you. “Well, you must certainly enjoy having such handsome crew members.”

“Uh…” To your complete mortification, you actually blush in response. You clench your fist to try to get a grip. To your right, Hoseok’s hand flinches, as if he can feel the need to hold you back. “I’m going on this mission to find life on other planets.” You grit your teeth. “My only interest in my crew is whether or not they do their jobs.”

The woman shakes her head, laughing. “Doesn’t hurt that they look good doing it.”

_______

Namjoon opens the door to his office and gestures for you to enter. The number of papers on his desk seems to have multiplied, which theoretically shouldn’t be possible.

“I’m going to say three words to you,” Namjoon says as he closes the door behind him. “And then I need you to repeat them back to me: banana, river, finger.”

“Namjoon,” you cross your arms. “I’m not cognitively impaired right now.”

He mirrors your closed stance. “Please repeat the words.”

You sigh. “Banana, river, finger.”

He pulls a piece of paper from his desk and wipes it clean, before handing it to you, along with a pen. “I need you to draw a clock face.”

“Seriously?”

“Set it to quarter past eight.”

“This isn’t necessary, commander,” you grumble as you take the pen and paper, drawing a rudimentary clock face and setting the hands to 8:15. “See?” You hand the paper back to him and he inspects it.

He nods, rubbing his chin. “Repeat the three words again.”

“Banana, river, finger.” You put your hands on your hips. “You think my judgement is compromised?”

Namjoon sighs. “Everything seems to be in order. You must admit, your behavior recently has been uncharacteristic to say the least. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Well, no, everything is not okay, that’s why I’m doing this.”

He leans against his desk, looking you up and down. “I fail to see how fraternizing with the entire crew will improve things.”

The back of your neck heats up in embarrassment, but you press on. You need the commander to be onboard with your plan.

“You admit we have a morale problem, right?”

He nods. “Hard to suggest otherwise. What with all the recent events.”

“Okay, so I was going through the principles of expeditionary behavior last night as I figured out what to do. Principle One:  Communication - talk so you are clearly understood, talk about intentions before taking action, share information freely.”

“I know the principles.” Namjoon interrupts.

“But don’t you see? That’s why I had to call the meeting. Why I had to get everything out in the open, share information freely.”

“That explains why you needed to inform the crew of your relationship with Jimin. It doesn’t explain why you think it would be good to involve everyone.”

“Principle Two: Self-care - manage psychological and physiological health, balance work, rest, and personal time, be proactive to stay healthy and mitigate stress.”

Namjoon arches an eyebrow. “A lack of sex doesn’t damage your health.”

“With all due respect commander, I think it does.”

“There are outlets to relieve sexual urges other than exploiting our only female crew member.”

“Well, they were all trading porn with each other. That’s how this whole thing started.” Namjoon purses his lips in thought. That seems to be new information to your commander. You continue your argument. “Principle Three: Team-care - monitor team for signs of stress and fatigue - which we have a multitude of, cooperate rather than compete, encourage participation in team activities.”

“Are you considering this a team activity?”

“Well, yes. Like the bonobos do.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Let me speak so I am clearly understood. I can’t prevent you or the rest of the crew from doing what you want to do with your personal time. But I can’t participate in it either. I’m the commanding officer on this ship. It’s inappropriate. We can’t have an equitable relationship.”

“That’s why it’s not a relationship though, it’s just sex. And if everyone involved is consenting...”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s be honest about intent for a minute. Is that really what you want? You want all seven of us?”

“Umm…” Your stomach churns as you are unable to admit that, yes, that is what you want. “I think it’s best for the mission.”

“Part of principle three is to volunteer for unpleasant tasks if they benefit the team. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing right now, officer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Though embarrassing to admit, boning your attractive colleagues is not an unpleasant task in the slightest.

“You should also consider the fact that whatever forms do get signed will have to be sent back to mission control. And may get out to the press.”

“I thought HR decisions were confidential.”

“Juicy stories have a tendency to find their way out. Especially when they distract from failed missions that added years on to our trip.”

“I understand, commander. Information must be shared freely. I still think this plan is necessary if we’re going to complete this mission successfully.”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “It would seem there is no talking you out of it.”

“No, sir. I intend to implement with full commitment.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute. An immovable object and an unstoppable force.

“So… should I go?”

“Yes, you’re dismissed.”

________

After the press junket is mercifully over, Hoseok catches you in the hallway.

“Hey, you coming to Tae and Jimin’s quarantine party tonight?” Tonight is the last night you all are allowed to see other people before you enter your two-week quarantine prior to launch. “Seems like you could use a drink.”

“I don’t know,”  you sigh, leaning against the wall.

“What’s on your mind?” He leans next to you.

“That last reporter, she got in my head.” You rub your forehead.

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck. His jawline tenses as he mulls over what to say.

Hoseok is so handsome. And smart. And newly single. He broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago before signing the final mission papers. And now he was going to be the one of only seven people in your whole world.

In another life, you would want to date him. You’d be dying to go to a party with him and plot how to get him alone for part of the evening. In another life, you would have fallen in love with him. But in this life, he’d been dating someone else for the whole time you’ve known him. And you have a mission.

What’s most grating is that the gossip columnist isn’t wrong. You’d be hard pressed to find a better set of men anywhere on Earth than the seven you were leaving with. They were all attractive, smart, kind, disciplined, athletic young men. It would be much easier to be entirely professional if you had a crew of balding middle-aged men.

“Do you think it's a mistake? Me going on this mission?” you finally ask.

“What?” Hoseok gasps. “No! Why would you think that?”

“The mission director said it was supposed to be only men. That mixed gender crews are too complicated.”

“Have we ever done anything to make you feel like we don’t view you as a professional?”

“No, no, of course not.” Other than being ridiculously good-looking.

Hoseok’s fingers twiddle nervously. “And we won’t. We’re a team. You’re our colleague. This mission is so much bigger than any one of us. And you’re the best candidate for this position.”

“I’m the only candidate.”

Hoseok smiles. “Well, that’s exactly my point. We’d be lost without our biologist. Besides, you were better than all the male candidates even before they dropped out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, I do. Are you forgetting how badly you kicked my ass all over organic chemistry? And I was the chem major! It was such a disgrace.” You both laugh.

You smile at the memory: early morning study sessions, Hoseok bringing you coffee in exchange for your homework help.

“Come on,” he insists. “I know you. You can’t not go. You’re going to be the first woman on Europa. It’s been your destiny since college. Don’t you want to see it with us?”

Yes, you wanted to see it so badly. You picture the two of you looking out over the icy surface together.

“Come tonight.” Hoseok insists. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We won’t mess this up for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

_______

You leave Namjoon’s bedroom and climb into your own sleep pod, the question of what mission control or the press know about what’s happening on this ship weighing on your mind.

Unfortunately, googling it for yourself won’t work. It takes between 10 and 20 minutes for a single signal to get from your ship to Earth, depending on exactly where you both are in your orbits. Then it takes another 10-20 minutes to return. Usually if you wanted to research something, you’d submit a formal request to your research assistants back on Earth,  who would gather a collection of relevant documents for you and send you a bundle of them all at once. But asking your research assistants to assemble a dossier on your rumored sex life was out of the question. You need someone you can trust.

You pull out your laptop and compose the following email.

Hi Dianna,

How are you doing? I’m sorry I’ve been slow to respond to your messages lately, things have been a bit messy out here. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor. Are there rumors about my personal life going around the ICSE? Or in the press? I was wondering if you’d be willing to run a quick google search and let me know what you find.

Thank you! I hope you and Melissa are doing well.

Dianna should have been on this mission with you. You wish you could talk to her in person. You’ll have to send her a video message when you have more time. But you are interrupted in your thoughts by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Jimin.”

You hit send on the email and open the door.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You nod and stand to one side to allow him into your pod.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “So I’m confused.” He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the pod. “Last night you were mad at me for suggesting you date Taehyung. You said you wouldn’t be passed around between crew members. But now you want to have sex with the entire crew?”

“I’m not being passed around. This is my plan. I’m in control.”

He shakes his head. “The end results seem to be the same though. I don’t understand.”

“This way we don’t have to pretend this is something it’s not. It can just be sex, just release. We don’t have to pretend it means anything more than that.”

“But it means something to me.” Jimin frowns. “I have feelings for you.”

You sigh. “They’re not real though. It’s hormones and boredom. It’s just because I’m the only woman here.”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is! You didn’t feel this way about me on Earth, right?”

Jimin stammers for a minute. “People can change. Relationships can change.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t have feelings for me on Earth either and now that they’ve seen me naked they’re suddenly 'in love' with me. That’s not real. That’s just biology. We’re just apes in space with too much time on our hands.”

“Jungkook’s in love with you too?”

“I don’t know. He thinks he is.”

Jimin frowns, but seems less sure of himself. “Is this because I suggested sharing? Cause that was a dumb idea and I take it back.”

“No! You were right. It’s what’s best for the mission.”

“So what? It’s like this or nothing? I have to share you to have any of you?”

You don’t answer him. Currently, no one else has actually signed, so Jimin might get you all to himself anyways.

“Am I… am I not enough?” Jimin asks. “I can be more. I can do better. I can do whatever Yoongi does that you like so much.”

“This isn’t about Yoongi. It’s about the mission.”

“You said you liked me. You said you wanted to be with me. Was that just about the mission?”

“It’s not about what I want.”

“Yeah, yeah… it's about the mission.”  

He turns to go, but you catch his hand in yours. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand. All the men are just as touch-starved as you are. It’s probably unfair that you are playing to that now.

You see an idea flash across his face right before he scoops you up into his arms, kissing you passionately. “I’m going to show you,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m going to show it's real. I’m going to be what you need. My feelings are real.”

Then he places you back down and leaves. You lean against the door breathless.

________

Mistake number one: You should not have challenged Jin to beer pong.

Mistake number two: You should not have said goodbye to your parents and dog right before going to a party full of strangers and booze.

Mistake number three: You should not have gone to find Hoseok when you are this drunk and he smells that good.

You collapse onto the couch beside Hoseok, too tired to stand up anymore. Hoseok smiles to see you, face flushed red.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, even though he’s already looking at you. “Hoseok, I have something important to tell you.”

He leans in closer. “Yeah?”

“Europa’s oceans are ninety-six kilometers deep.”

He laughs. “Of course, I know that! I wrote my graduate thesis on Europa’s oceans!”

“Yeah, but like…” You wave your hand. “That’s like soooo deep. Like not intuitive, you know? Like that’s ten times deeper than any ocean on Earth. I can’t even conceive of how deep our oceans are, let alone Europa’s.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch. “That’s like…” You pull out your phone to do some basic math. “That’s like 120 Burj Khalifas!!”

Hoseok nods. “Yes… It is super deep.”

“Stacked on top of each other!” You slap your knee in emphasis.

“Yes, I know!” He laughs again.

You sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean in closer and put a hand on his thigh. He leans in too. “There just has to be life down there. I know there has to be.”

“I hope so.” He rests his hand on yours.

“We’re going to find it together, you and I.” You grab his hand and squeeze it.

Hoseok looks down at your joined hands and you worry that maybe you’ve gone too far. Maybe tomorrow this will be an awkward and embarrassing moment. But right now it feels nice. His hand is warm. You wonder if it would be too much to lean your head on his shoulder.

But then Hoseok’s phone buzzes in his lap. His ex-girlfriend’s name flashes across the screen and you drop his hand.

“Sorry,” he mutters, getting up off the couch. “I should take this.” He leaves and the couch next you is colder.

“Hey!” Jin stumbles over to your seating area. “Have any of you guys seen Namjoon?”

“I think he went to meet that girl he won’t tell us about,” Yoongi answers from a chair a few feet away. When did Yoongi get here?

“So everyone is getting laid tonight, huh?” Jin laughs.

“Not everyone,” Yoongi mutters, nursing his beer.

“Don’t be such a grump, Yoongi. It’s basically our last night on Earth! Take advantage!” Jin laughs before wandering back into the crowd.

“I’m not getting laid tonight either!” You yell across the room at Yoongi. More direct than you would be when sober.

He cracks the first smile you’ve seen from him in days, raising his beer into the air in a little clinking motion. You do the same with your plastic cup full of what Jimin had described as “Tae’s jungle juice”. It was red and smelled like tequila.

“Why aren’t you getting laid?” you ask, taking a swig of the juice for courage.

“Got dumped, not really over it yet,” he answers matter-of-factly. “What about you?”

You shrug. “The only men here are about to be my only companions for the next twelve years. Seems like a bad plan to fuck them.”

Yoongi laughs. “Suppose so.”

“Well, don’t you worry. If that reporter is right, we’ll all be having space orgies in a month anyways.”

Yoongi chokes on his beer. “Shit.” Beer dribbles down his chin as he laughs. “I think we need to find you some ice water and a cab.”

“Probably a good plan,” you mutter as you lie down on the couch and close your eyes.

________

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think any of them were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There are two other things waiting for you to notice though: your period and a calendar reminder that today is chili pepper pollinating day. After dealing with the first of those problems in the bathroom, you head for the lab to find Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee tucked up against his chest.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed.

“Oh, you don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

“Um, was I? Yeah. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t.

“I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit too rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disagree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if the plants didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The initial set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than enjoying the chili peppers, this was also one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands periodically. It always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“I outlined it all in my presentation. Plus Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off by Hoseok's derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone ever treating you that way. And now you want all of us to… to… use you like that?”  He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.” He leaves you alone in the greenhouse.

Your lower lip trembles and you bite it to stop it. He’s disgusted by you. Yoongi was wrong; Hoseok doesn’t want you. It takes you the rest of the day to finish the pollinating on your own.

_____

There are no forms waiting for you when you wake up the next morning either. Perhaps this was a mistake after all. If the men aren’t looking for release in the same way you are, then there’s no point to any of this. Even Jimin has been keeping his distance, so all you’ve done is mess up the one relationship you did have and offend your commander and colleagues.

Your tablet buzzes with a notification. It’s a reply from Dianna.

It’s great to hear from you! I hope things aren’t too crazy up there. I haven’t heard any rumors at work, but I’ve not been directly involved with your mission. We’ve started the plans for Titan and it’s taking most of my focus. I can ask around though if you want me to. I was surprised to find this article when I googled. Is this accurate? I assumed you would have said something.

Hope you are well! Melissa and I are going to send you a video of our new puppy.

Dianna

There is a pdf of a magazine article attached to the email entitled “Love Amongst the Stars”. At the top is one of the official launch photos of the whole crew that has been zoomed and cropped so that it’s only you and Jimin sitting next to each other. The tagline reads “How two astronauts had to leave Earth to find each other”. It makes you cringe so hard you have to put the tablet down for a minute before you can read on.

It’s some sort of fluff piece about a secret affair between you and the mission specialist. You scan the article, trying to figure out what they know. “A source close to the couple spoke with us...” Who is their source? You haven’t told anyone on Earth about what's going on with Jimin.

“Coworkers said they always sensed a special connection between the two…” This is nonsense. Jimin is one of the crew members you knew the least about prior to launch.

“Other crew members are very supportive…” Uh, sure.

“Maybe we’ll even get our first space wedding…” You groan out loud, closing the pdf.

Maybe that seals it then. You’ll just be space-married to Jimin for the next 12 years and that will be that. The idea makes you feel a bit claustrophobic in your tiny sleep pod, so you throw on your exercise clothes and head for the gym to try to clear your head.

_____

What you call “the gym” is actually just a bunch of resistance bands and cardio equipment stashed into the walls of one corner of the hangar. When the gravity was off, you had a variety of different choices for which equipment to use. There was a treadmill in the ceiling and an elliptical in the wall so multiple people could use the equipment in your off hours. But with the gravity on, the stationary bike on the floor is your only option.

As you begin your warm-up on the bike, you mull over your next move. Why hadn’t any of the other men come and talked to you yet? Jungkook had confessed to you, why wasn’t he signing up now? And Yoongi? Yoongi said he wanted a form only a few days ago. Why did it feel so different now?

Were you stupid? Had you embarrassed yourself in front of your entire crew for no reason? Maybe Namjoon and Hoseok were right and this was a bad plan. You pedal faster, trying to burn out some of the tension in your lungs.

The radio buzzes and Taehyung’s deep voice sounds in your in-ear. “Looking for a location for our biologist.”

“I’m in the gym,” you radio back, pausing your bike ride to catch your breath.

Moments later, Taehyung pokes his head in the door of the hangar. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey.” He steps into the room, adjusting his hair with his one good hand. “I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.”

Oh my gosh, is it finally happening? Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe Taehyung is more interested in you than you had realized. He fishes into his pocket and pulls out his tablet. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form as he walks closer to you. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigate the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing  Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know it's a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

“What?” He puts down the tablet. “Why would he want that?”

“He, um…” You rub your arm. “He thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us.”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” you ask. If Taehyung wasn’t jealous of Jimin, then...“Who are you jealous of?”

“Nevermind…” Taehyung stumbles backward, putting his tablet back in his pocket. “Forget I said anything.”

“No wait,” you get up off the bike to chase after him, catching by the sleeve. As he turns around, you make a show of turning off your microphone. He does the same. “Are you jealous of me?” you ask. “Do you like Jimin?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he bites his lip. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter.  But now he’s attempting to peel the tank top up over his head.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” He answers. “Shit, can you give me a hand?” In his attempts to remove his shirt, he seems to have forgotten he is wearing the arm sling and is now stuck with his shirt over his head. His injured shoulder is black and blue from his accident with the ROV.

You gingerly try to disentangle him without getting too close to his warm, bare skin. You succeed in freeing him from his shirt and he tosses it up and over the camera.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?” you ask.

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole ‘save the mission with bonobo sex’ plan.” He zips his jumpsuit back up as he turns around.

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

Of course, Taehyung is in love with Jimin. That makes so much more sense. They’ve been so close for so long. And Taehyung has always paid very close attention to anything going on with Jimin. “You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.”  There��s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” he continues.

Your mind flashes back to your own moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

Taehyung sighs and leans against the ice drill. “But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels that way about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.”  Maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”  

Taehyung purses his lips. He can’t argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “I like him. Lord knows he’s attractive. And he wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You could have that with any man on this ship though...”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

Taehyung pulls his tablet back out of his pocket. “Do you really think that if everyone just like, banged it out, that it would help morale?”

“Well, it certainly couldn’t get any worse.”

“And Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?” He reopens the HR form and stares at it.

You nod.

“What if I signed this? And we let him think that for a little longer? Just until I figure out how to tell him the truth?

“Like we’d pretend the two of us are involved?” Maybe that would help you get the other men on board with your plan.

Taehyung nods. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, that would work.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. “Thank you,” he says before he leaves you to resume your workout.

______

Other than Taehyung, no one else approaches you over the next few days. If anything, the crew seems to be treating you more professionally than they did before you announced your plan to fuck them all. You have signed forms from Jimin and Taehyung and have been rejected by Namjoon and Hoseok, but you’ve heard nothing either way from the other three. What are they waiting for?

By the time you reach the end of the Monday morning weekly meeting, you’ve had enough waiting.

Namjoon finishes his debrief of the week’s goals and claps his hands. “Anyone have anything else mission related we need to discuss?”

“My period is over,” you announce to your assembled crew.

A muscle pulses in Namjoon’s jaw. “Officer, I wouldn’t consider that mission-related.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair. “Just freely sharing information.”

“Already?” Jungkook asks. “I thought you said it would take a week.”

“No, finished this morning. It varies a bit from cycle to cycle.” you answer. Hoseok’s leg begins aggressively bouncing up and down next to you, but you press on. “I need to make a schedule. So I need to know who’s in and who’s out.”

“Ooh, what if you shared out your tracker info so we’re all on the same page.” Taehyung enthuses.

Yoongi scoffs. “Why don’t we just add it to our mission task list then?”

“I’m not clear on why menstruating means we can’t have sex,” Jimin interjects.

“Enough!” Namjoon regains everyone’s attention. “We need clear boundaries between what is personal and what is professional. Right now, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

________

By the time you finish your chores for the day, you have convinced yourself that getting the rest of the team on board is essential to your successful completion of the mission. So you go in search of Yoongi.

You find him in his workshop. Pieces of an air filter are spread out on the workbench and he’s in the middle of cleaning it. You had forgotten that is the actual purpose of the workbench. So much for climbing on top of it and seducing him that way.

He looks up when you enter and you decide to cut to the chase. “I haven’t gotten your HR form yet.”

“Yeah…” He goes back to inspecting the clogged tube in front of him.

“You said you wanted to sign one with me.”

“I did say that, yes.”

“And now you don’t?” You thought if anyone was going to be supportive of the plan, it would be Yoongi.

He sets down the part he had been inspecting. “Have you really thought this through?”

“Yes!” You put your hands on your hips. “I made a whole powerpoint! With sources!!”

“I think it's a bad plan.” He picks up another long tube full of dust and threads a brush through it.

“I thought you’d be onboard with this plan. You said if I was fucking everyone, there’s no need for jealousy.”

“Yeah, well, I was wrong.” He sets the tube down and turns around to look at you directly. “ Is that really what you want?”

Why is he questioning you now? He was the one who put this whole idea in your head. He was the one who knew all your fantasies. “But you said…"

“I know what I said.” He begins pacing back and forth in front of the workbench. “But there’s a difference between a fantasy and a reality. You really want to have sex with a different man every day for 12 years on some kind of rotating daily schedule? Like how we water the crops?”

“You’re mad there’s a schedule?” You try to come closer to him, but he backs away from you, turning back to the air filter.

“Sexual desire doesn’t run on a clock, you know,” he says as he starts to pack up the equipment. “What if you’re not feeling it that day? What if they’re not?”

“I’m just trying to be fair to everyone.”

“But nobody actually gets what they want!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“And what do you want, Yoongi?”

He pauses, then deflates, dropping his hands to his sides. “Nevermind, forget about it.” He grabs a wet wipe off the shelf and begins cleaning the dust of his hands, not looking at you.

“No!” He’s the one who has been egging you on this whole time. “You were the one who was all ‘you have to fuck Jimin to save the mission’. You said you didn’t care if I fucked Jimin too. What do you want from me, Min Yoongi?”

“I’m going to go get some dinner.” He mutters, throwing the dirty wipe in the trash and turning to leave.

Oh no. He’s not going to escape you that easily. You need some straight answers. “You started all this, Yoongi! You said every man on this ship wanted to fuck me and none of them do! What was that?” You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen.

He stops and turns around in the middle of the hall. “This isn’t all on me! You made choices too!”

“Because of what I thought you wanted!” you yell back. “What is your deal? First you want me to fuck you, then you dont. Then you want me to fuck everyone and then you don’t. What do you want from me?” Your voice is echoing down the hallway but you are way past caring about it.

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth, then spins back around and heads for the kitchen, with you trailing behind him.

Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of ramen. He looks up, startled as the two of you barge in.

“And what about you?” You fire the question at your youngest crew member. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

The poor boy nearly chokes on his noodles. “I, um…” He swallows, wide eyes glancing between you and Yoongi.

You lean against the table next to Jungkook as Yoongi steps around the two of you to head for the pantry, but you see his fist clench as he walks by. You lean closer to Jungkook. “Didn’t you enjoy my video? Don’t you want to see the real thing?”

“Uh...” Jungkook glances at Yoongi again. “Maybe the two of you should talk this out…”

Yoongi’s hands tremble, but he doesn’t turn around, intent on starting the rice cooker. You turn your focus to Jungkook instead. “This isn’t about him. Whatever the flight engineer wants to do is up to him. He knows where I stand. This is about you and I.”  You are going to get a man on this ship to fuck you. Today.

“It’s not like I’m not interested…” Jungkook’s knee bounces up and down rapidly as he watches you. “But I told you I was in love with you and you literally had a panic attack.”

Oh right. That was back when you thought you still had a shot of stopping all this. Before half your crew had seen you naked. Before all of them had heard you having sex. Before you’d announced that you wanted all of them to fuck you. But you can still control this, if you can get them onboard with your plan.

Your tablet buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to give yourself a moment to think. There’s a message from Jin.

Hey, come find me when you get this and we can talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.

You brace yourself for yet another rejection note. But you click on the attachment to instead find your HR form, Kim Seokjin’s signature scrawled right next to yours.

Holy shit. He signed it. Under no false pretenses. What do you do now?

“What is it?” Jungkook asks.  

But then Jin appears in the doorway. He startles when he sees you. “Oh! I thought you’d still be on shift.”

You shake your head. “You signed the form.”

“What? He did?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin answers, laughing nervously. “That’s what you wanted right?”

“Yes, that’s what I wanted.” You stand up and move closer to your pilot. Jungkook crosses his arms. Yoongi finally turns around to observe the three of you.

Jin. Jin with his broad-shoulders and plump lips. Your friend. Your very handsome friend. He’s going to help you save the mission.

“You’re the first one I’ve gotten, so you can go first.”

“Wait, what?” Jin stammers. “But you and the commander?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t sign.”

“You and Taehyung though? I saw him take off his shirt and then cover the camera.”

“Oh right… sorry… I guess you’re the second one. But Tae’s still on shift.”

“Don’t forget about Jimin.” Yoongi helpfully chimes in.

Jin takes a step backward. “But I thought for sure these two…” He gestures at the other two men in the kitchen.

“Nope,” you move toward him. “Not yet.” You suddenly see a way to get them all on board at once.

“Oh, well, um...” His ears are bright red. “Maybe we can talk more about this after dinner?”

“That’s one option…” You lick your lips and find the top of your zipper with your hand, blushing as the next part of your plan unfolds in your mind. “Or you could fuck me now.”

“What?”

“Holy shit.” Jungkook mutters beside you.

Jin dives around you, moving toward the other side of the kitchen. “There are people eating here!”

“Nothing they haven’t seen before.” You begin unzipping your jumpsuit in what you hope is a seductive manner, rolling your hips as you follow him across the kitchen. You have both Jungkook and Yoongi’s rapt attention.

You take a cue from Taehyung and peel off your tank top, throwing it over the camera behind you, leaving you in a bra and the bottom half of your jumpsuit. “Though if these two are going to stay and watch, they better sign the forms as well.”

“Stay and watch?” Jin swallows, hands clenched at his sides.

You grab the waist of your jumpsuit, teasing it down just slightly as you make direct eye contact with Jungkook and then Yoongi. “What do you think boys? In or out?”

Jungkook lunges for his tablet. A satisfying ping on your own tablet confirms that this plan is working. Yoongi just crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

You drop the jumpsuit, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. You prop yourself up on the kitchen table next to Jungkook’s now cold bowl of ramen.

“What are you doing?” Jin asks, whole face beginning to turn red.

“Look…” You shimmy out of your bra straps so that your bra is only held in place by your hand. “I’m going to need you to fuck me right here on this table, Kim Seokjin. For the good of the mission.”

“Why does putting your bare ass on the surface where we eat help the mission?!”

“No more secrets. No more jealousy. Everything will be out in the open. Like the bonobos do.”

Your fingers tease at the clasp of your bra. All three men stare at you. You lock eyes with Yoongi, daring him to look away. Implement with full commitment. You drop your bra to the floor.

“Stop, stop!” Jin moves toward you as you slide your fingers into the band of your underwear. “Just hang on for one second.” He picks up your jumpsuit from the floor and comes closer, draping it around your shoulders in an attempt to cover you. “Look at me.” He grasps your chin and turns your gaze to meet his. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You lick your lips. “Yes.”

He kisses you, hard. It’s aggressive, urgent even. His hands are on your shoulders, then sliding down your back, pulling you toward him. Your eyes close as you momentarily lose yourself in it. Despite you begging him for it, it still surprises you how insistent he is. His hands keep sliding down your back, until they reach your buttocks, running over the thin cotton of your underwear and scooping you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders for balance, and then he is lifting off the table.

He breaks out of the kiss to pick you up even higher and then proceeds to throw you over his shoulder.

“Jin! What are you doing?” You kick your feet into the air.

“I am a man, not an ape,” he says, picking up your jumpsuit and bra and tossing them over his other shoulder.  “And if I’m going to fuck you, it’s going to be in the privacy of my own sleep pod, where the only man enjoying it is me.”

He hauls you ass first out into the hallway, with Jungkook and Yoongi both watching wide-eyed as you are carried away.

“I can walk,” you argue as Jin turns for the sleep pods.

“Nope,” replies Jin, readjusting you on his shoulder before carrying you down the hall.

As you reach the junction to the bridge, your ass runs into something warm and firm.

“What the-” says Namjoon. Your whole body flushes hot as you realize you’ve run butt-first into your commanding officer.

“Shit, sorry commander.” Jin laughs. “Excuse us,” Jin says and continues down the hallway, not setting you down or stopping.

Namjoon has pressed himself up against the wall with his hands in the air, a look of shock on his face. He looks like he is about to say something, but then Jin reaches his sleep pod and sets you down inside and you can’t see the commander anymore.

“Well, that was the best thing that has happened in a long time.” Jin chuckles as he closes the door. “The looks on Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s faces will power me for a year. You okay?” he asks, handing your bra and jumpsuit. “For the record, I’m not expecting anything else to happen here.”

“You don’t want to do anything else?” You hold up your jumpsuit to cover yourself, more disappointed than you would like to admit.

Jin eyes you up and down. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested, but that wasn’t my intention in bringing you here.”

“You hauled me half-naked to your bedroom and your intention wasn’t to have sex?”

“I know, I am such a gentleman, aren’t I?” He laughs, then shrugs. “Seemed like maybe you needed an out. Things were getting kind of crazy back there.”

“But you signed the form? Doesn’t that imply a sexual relationship?”

“I guess I’m not really a ‘sex in front of two other men before we’ve even been on a date’ kind of guy.”

“How about a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?”

“Are you even actually interested in me?” Jin asks, getting more serious. “Because none of what happened in the kitchen felt like it was about me. I don’t want to be some pawn in your plot to make Yoongi jealous.”

“It’s not about Yoongi!” You groan. “Why does everyone think this is about Yoongi?”

“Have you seen the two of you interact recently? There are some seriously repressed feelings going on there.”

You bang your head into the door of the sleep pod in frustration, before looking up at him. “You’re a very attractive man. Maybe I have feelings for you?”

He sighs. “Yeah, but you don’t. You can’t swap us out for each other.”

Shit. The way you’ve been treating the men is exactly how you feared they would treat you. While you fear being wanted because you’re the only woman, you’ve made all the men on the ship feel as though you think them interchangeable simply because they’re men.

“It never occurred to me that any of you would have real feelings for me.”

“Well, you are very dumb.”

“Hey…” You hit him gently on the chest. He catches your hand in his.

“Amazing they would trust such a crucial mission to someone who is so very stupid,” he teases, still holding your hand.

“I’m not this stupid about mission related stuff, just all this relationship crap.” You laugh softly.

“So tragic. Someone with so much training ought to have better sense.”

He squeezes your hand and you look into his eyes again. He smiles a soft reassuring smile and for the first time in weeks, you feel like maybe everything will be okay again at some point in the future.

“You’re a good man, Kim Seokjin.”

“Best man on the ship.” He chuckles.

“Kiss me again.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look there’s no one else here right? This is only about you. I want you.”

He kisses you again, tenderly this time. His warm arms wrap around and you realize you’re still naked except for your underwear. You curl into his embrace. He smells good, warm and manly, like good cologne. You run your hands over his muscular shoulders that you can feel through his clothes. It’s slow and leisurely, like you’re savoring each other.

“You sure you’re not a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?” You tease as you slide your thigh in between his legs and feel his erection pressing against you.

He groans, resting his head on your shoulder as you grind against him. “I’d like to think of myself as more of a ‘sex in the sleep pods after the third date’ kind of guy.”

You pause and look up at him surprised. “You want to go on a date?”

He nods. “At least three of them, in fact.”

You smile. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”

He kisses you behind your ear. “So are Mondays my day then? Can I take you on a date next Monday?”

You gasp as he rolls his hips against you, the heat of him seeping through his clothes. “That’s a long time to wait, especially if you’re going to make me wait through three of them.”

“I’m sure we can find other ways to entertain ourselves.” He cups your naked breast in his hand, massaging gently.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do today?” You palm his erection through his pants and he gasps.

“Stop that, you temptress…” He grits his teeth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Aww, come on, there must be something I can do for you.”

“Well…” He bites his lip. “I will admit that I am awfully curious what was on that video that got five of my crew members suspended.”

“I could show you.” You start to shimmy down your underwear. “But there was no touching in the video.”

He kisses you one last time on the cheek, before pulling away and pressing himself into the opposite wall of the sleep pod. “Okay, show me. I’ll be good.” He puts his hands up by his head in mock innocence.

You finish removing your underwear, spreading your legs apart as best you can. You trail a hand down between your legs, finding yourself wet already. “It was me masturbating.” You tease around your clit without touching it directly.

He groans, hips kicking forward as he stays up against the wall. “Show me.”

“Well, first I took my fingers and sucked on them.” You narrate your actions as you wet your fingers. “Then I touched my nipples.” Your nipples harden before you’ve even touched them, but you continue to tease them for his benefit.

His eyes dart back and forth between your face, your breasts, and your spread legs, as if he can’t decide where he wants to look first. He licks his lips like a man starving. “Keep going.”

“I’m very wet.” You continue your narration as he clenches his fists. You run your fingers through your wet folds, then hold them up to show him. His hips buck again as he groans, still fully dressed and pressed to the wall. “And then I touched my clitoris.” It’s your turn to moan as you finally touch your swollen pleasure center, stroking slowly and keeping your eyes fixed on Jin.

“Goddamn…” He drops to his knees, hands resting at his sides, eyes fixed on your hand as it strokes around your clit.

“Do you wish it was your fingers right now, instead of mine?” you ask.

He nods, tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. He begins inching toward you on his knees. “Do you think… maybe…?”

“I thought we said no touching,” you tease when he gets to your feet, his head level with your hand, eyes fixed on your wet cunt as you continue to touch yourself.

“I just…” His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I want to smell you.” A pulse of arousal rocks through you at how eager he is. You nod. He moves his nose right over your pubic mound and inhales a long slow savoring breath, tickling your hairs.

“Ah…” He releases a long, loud satisfied moan. His knuckles turn white, but his face is relaxed. “You smell amazing.” He inches even closer, just millimeters separating you from his face and inhales again.

“Oh shit.” You feel the pleasure skyrocketing as your orgasm catches you off guard. You grab him by the back of the head to stabilize yourself and his nose bumps firmly against your clit.

He groans again, loudly right against you as he grinds his nose into you, letting you ride his face as your orgasm washes over you. You thread your fingers through his hair to hold him in place. He wraps his hands around the back of your thighs to press himself into you harder. You cry out as waves of muscle contraction course through you over and over.

“Fuck…” you both say in unison as you collapse back against the door. Your eyes meet and you both start laughing. He places a light kiss right below your belly button before he gets up.

“Well, I see why that was worth getting suspended for,” he says, unzipping his jumpsuit and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

“And you didn’t even come yet.” You slide your underwear back up, wondering if he would consider a blowjob to be a step too far before your first date.

“Um, actually…” he gestures down at his crotch and the new wet spot you find there makes your pelvic muscles clench.

“You came in your pants? Over me?”

Jin laughs. “God, you have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” He picks up your clothing off the floor, before kissing you softly on the forehead. “I will have a hard time waiting for Monday.”

“Me too.” You mutter and get a sudden sinking feeling. You don’t want this to be over right now. You want to stay here with him, to cuddle and be held by him, but you have made this very clear to everyone involved that these dalliances are not relationships. It’s just sex. And now the sex is over. Until next week.

You slip back into your clothes and give him one last kiss. You tablet pings as you head out into the hallway and you fish it out of your pocket.

Yoongi: Okay, I’m in.

Below his message is his signed HR form. A swell of smug satisfaction makes you smile as you cross the hall and climb into your own pod. You open up a group message for the five men whose signed forms you now have in your possession and type out the following:

Mondays: Jin

Tuesdays: Jungkook

Wednesdays: Taehyung

Thursdays: Jimin

Fridays: Yoongi

“Saturday and Sunday to be determined,” you whisper to yourself as you hit send.

____

Next part

[hyperbolicreverie]

On the Straw Hats, the crew comes from a variety of places- East Blue, West Blue, Grand Line. As the members get to know each other, do they start to adopt some of each other’s customs with sea religion? Is there a difference in how Robin practices than Brook given he’s from 50 years ago?

Oh gosh, I really need to do a softer little religious traditions fic for this AU, most of the writing has been far more large worldbuilding and dramatic, but it could really use some of that small bits of cultural flavor that I love so much.

The Straw Hats have an unusual mix of cultural traditions, given most crews we've seen are nowhere near as varied in origin as they are. And with the closest thing to an anthropologist on board with Robin, you can bet that she'd drag all There are a lot of Eastern traditions by default--seashell chimes in the windows, woven garlands replaced every now and again made from sea plants, even the culture of hospitality, which reflects in how welcoming the crew can be to others, and these form the core of Straw Hat traditions.

And in this AU, Sanji always makes sure to honor his birth sea in addition to the one that adopted him, so there are little moments of asking for good weather and fair seas in exchange for little trinkets, which I bet Usopp loves to make.

Robin and Brook bring similar Western traditions but from very different perspectives: he was a military leader, and she came from a place of more cultural focus, but the West is the sea who is most associated with music, so I can imagine they spend a lot of time discussing the differences in what they learned, and the Sunny is full of those tunes. The South cares the least for formalized traditions, and Franky left there when he was quite young, so it's definitely the least represented on the ship, though I'd say he fits her themes of action and emotion quite well. People like Chopper and Jinbei, for whom none of this is what they were raised with, bring their own flavor as well. Jinbei is such a wonderfully respectful person, and Chopper loves learning things and likely has no basis for comparison anyway.

[papermonkeyism]

Musings on the sky pirate headworld's cast. Since my brain is still having field trip here, might as well use it!

Bloodbride: The ship itself, flying on 2-4 wings (depending. Never actually designed her in a way I was happy about). Powered by a magic crystal (I did say this is a wizard-did-it - type setting). The best dragon ships are made from actual dragons, but by the time the story takes place, there really aren't any dragons left, so most ships fly on crystals. Bloodbride does have a pretty impressive heart crystal, though, considering she's not all that impressive as a ship.

Whistling Devoran: Human (he). The ship's captain. Nickname comes from his habit of whistling or humming this one specific earworm of a song. He claims he has different lyrics to the song, but nobody has actually ever heard him sing them, so there's debate he's doing it just to annoy people. Honestly not that far fetched of a theory either...

"LadyBahia": human (she). Semi-old character who needs a new backstory (and possibly name too, apparently Bahia is a real place?). Actual owner of the ship (the heart crystal belongs to devoran, but the ship is Bahia's). Former noble woman who said screw it and joined Devoran as a pirate, basically for shits and giggles. Handles the ship's mage cannon. (filling the badass grandma - quota of the setting)

The mage/healer: human (they). Totally not here. Shhhhh!

The first mate: cat person (she). Needs a name... Let's call her "Silver" for now. When Bride was fresh and needed crew, but Devoran didn't have money to hire one, they managed to persuade her to join on account of being a better home than the bar attic she lived in. She then brought few of her friends on board to get enough people to get Bride off the ground.

"Stripes" and "Spots": cat people (she&she). Two of Silver's old friends from the town, who she took with her to Bride.

Untitled Dude: cat person (he). Again one of Silver's old friends. I swear I'll name these guys at some point...

Araos: windborn (he?). Old characters again! Another I'm considering renaming, and am kinda also pondering on whether to gender flip. Araos is one of the oldest characters created for this setting, he originates from the time when little teenage me was still unquestioningly buying the "male is default gender and female characters are boring" - thing, and as the result the whole cast was male except for two token women. Though, looking at it now, I have at some point flipped the gender ratios the other way, so. Don't know, I shall ponder it further. One of the ship's bird people. Because flying ships need flying crew members, right? I think there might even be a quota in some places of how many people of anybdragon ship's crew needs to have wings.

Valcana: windborn (she). Oh, man. This is my THE oldest still existing character. She's been through a lot, both in character and behind the scenes. One of the characters who's gotten gender flipped after I grew up and figured out myself and how I like my storytelling. Her background used to have a slight torture porn flavor that I'm diluting a lot to meet her actual personality.

Tuf: legwing (he?). Valcana's companion, a talking legwing (this fluffy winged creature thing). Kinda not really a person? Sorta? How do you even sort that? Emotional support creature.

Hunter: ??? (??). You know, the anthropomorphic ceratopsideer person I drew last month. New guy, tall, has crossbow.

Cat: cat (?). An actual cat. (except because this is magic flying ship world, the cat can glide, flying squirrel like. Still a cat, though.)

Other characters I'm on the fence of including:

Lanedra: human (she). One of the Old characters. Originally started as the token smurfette of the cast, with personality of "female". Then as time went on, she became a joke as she looked like a man, and that made her special. That's pretty much the depth of her character. She really needs a personality if she's gonna stay, and also "looks androgynous enough to be mistaken for a man" has kinda lost its flavor of "special" now that pretty much everything is openly queer.

Wynthalan: windborn (he). Another one of the oldies, his whole character was "flirty", because at that time I had just discovered manga, and the token pervert was a thing. *shudders* Has since gotten enough developement that I know he's got two wives at home in a poly triangle, who he worships (some Gomez Addams flavor?), and I like that, but he'd still need a personality and character outside of that. My main issue with him is that his polycule was a scandal he was running away from, but that has kinda lost its flavor after I figured out my own self, came out as queer and evicted overt homofobia from my headworlds.

Rinka: (she) Old character. Used to be a fat werewolf and the ship's cook, but had no personality or character beyond that, and werewolves aren't a thing in this setting anymore. Needs a new race and, like, everything. Personality, background, etc. to function.

I still kinda want a non-humanoid crewmember who's a person. Tuf doesn't count as he/they/it's more a smart animal with a twist, and Hunter doesn't count because they're too humanoid for what I want. Not bizarre enough.

[meggannn]

shepard/garrus?

oh boy, sorry for the late response! I always end up posting these things and then going to read/take a nap/play a game or something. anyway writing this up took two hours, i hope it is even slightly interesting to read. cut because this is looooooong

What made you ship it?

I think I was interested in this ship before I even played ME. I was just like “I know Shepard is a character and an alien named Garrus is a character, and people draw porn of them together.” because I think it’s reasonable to say it’s one of, if not the most, popular ship in the fandom, or at least in ME’s tumblr fandom? and the way people talked about it, I knew their tropes were #banter, #battle couple, #partnerships, and... and as we’ve learned from royai, I am a bit weak to those tropes (assuming I like both of the characters). the way people talked about them also from a “best friends” angle—which is sort of forced in-game in a way that seems strange to me now—was also a plus in its favor at the time. (if they get together, I do see their friendship/companionship, in whatever form, in some ways integral to their romance—unless you’re playing full far-right renegade who’s like a xenophobe and hate-fucking Garrus, I guess?—but Bioware also kind of shoehorned Garrus into that best-friend role and that’s a topic for another day.)

What are your favorite things about the ship?

(my friend will hit me if I say “partnerships” again) I’m gonna talk about the way I play my Shepard now, because so much is dependent on the unique Shepard. for Lydia’s journey over the series, I see a large part of her journey as basically a study of her (often self-inflicted) loneliness. and she never entirely breaks her habits of self-isolation, but the events of the series force her to be vulnerable in a way she would prefer not to be in front of a crew, or, y’know, ever. Garrus becomes an integral part of that story to help her break her out of these bad habits (all of the crew does, particularly also Ashley for my Shep), but to my eyes, the story of “Shepard and Garrus’s relationship” is also one of mutual respect, burden-sharing, and sanity and morality checks.

I don’t think of their “mentor” relationship in ME1 very often mostly because I don’t think it was done particularly well, but for all its faults, I do like how naturally the jump from “subordinate” in ME1 to “ally” in ME2 felt; once you meet Garrus on Omega you feel more on the same footing as two friends greeting each other because you’ve both recently been through trauma and the sight of a friendly face in a station full of hostiles is so unexpectedly welcome that it lets them both hope things will be okay for a minute. starting from that moment, Garrus becomes one of the few people who can see “under” her mask, I guess: partly because he’s one of the few combatants from the SR-1 who knows Shepard well and sees who she is both on the field and onboard the SR-2, with the ability to compare both to the times of “before you died”; partly because he has trauma response training and recognizes it in others even if he doesn’t in himself; partly because his loyal personality makes him sensitive to wonder how she’s dealing with being resurrected; and also partly because they’ve both gone through similar things. namely, getting your squad killed and blaming yourself for it, and it possibly being your fault (BioWare is inconsistent on what Shepard’s role was on Akuze, but in ME1 she has the chance to reply that she was responsible for getting them out safely, and failed).

necessity forces Shepard to adapt to things like being effectively forced to work for terrorists; being isolated from her support system; being resurrected and feeling like a stranger in her own body; later, getting decommissioned for making an incredibly difficult call to save the galaxy; watching your homeworld burn; being forced into a political role negotiating high stakes you don’t know how to play; being told you’re the spearhead of a galactic war; doing all of this without a full crew complement; the list goes on. those are all, on their own, incredibly isolating, traumatic experiences, and my Shepard’s not emotionally sane at the best of times. (emotionally stable, perhaps, only in the most literal of terms, at least on the surface. she’s like a rock when shit hits the fan. emotionally sane, no, for that reason and more.)

the tables have turned, and Garrus ends up becoming a large part of helping her regain agency in most if not all of those things: in ME2 he was a former crew member she trusted, and he was eager to work for her and be distracted from his failures on Omega. over in the battery, he is himself recovering from a major injury (like Shepard) and going through the aftermath of a bloodbath he feels responsible for (like Shepard), working on a crew that holds him at arm’s length, that he also... arguably... didn’t have much choice in joining (like Shepard—I’m assuming he wasn’t held hostage and joined voluntarily after waking up, but lbr this is unconfirmed). their reasons are different and varied, but they don’t realize until much later that they have found each other at the most opportune time, providing a sense of stability for each other, and also, frankly, sanity and morality checks.

in ME3, he steps into this role more fully because he’s become more disciplined, is doing work firmly in his wheelhouse, and paired up against Shepard struggling with their positions somewhat reversed from ME1: him more confident and her now completely out of her element, floundering with her place on a galactic scale. without Garrus—and Chakwas, and Joker, and Tali, and later the loyalty of the entire SR-2—the story of ME would be a tragedy, and it would end shortly in ME2; it’d be the story of how my Shepard slowly went insane being forced to fight boogeymen under a terrorist banner. Garrus isn’t, like, the keeper of her sanity, but their ability to check each other, and see themselves in the eyes of each other, provides stability and occasionally a bit of a wake-up call to both of them. when they’re both vulnerable, they both feel most seen, and most understood, by an alien that listens.

one angle of this ship that highly interests me at the moment, along with the above, is that while it’s not illegal for them to be together, it’s still... a really bad fucking idea lmao. (I could make the argument that it’s a bad idea for Shepard to be in any relationship with their crew but I think there are a few ships—Garrus, Tali, any Alliance crew at all—that realistically would be huge political clusterfucks.) so overcoming personal insecurity and fear of the unknown to acknowledge interest in each other, and the desire to become an item, getting roadblocked by a reality wake-up call with the fact that 1) she’s his boss, 2) Garrus comes from a society where station matters, like, sort of a lot and it even determines your job and how much legal power you have, 3) the potential political blowback (which would be ENORMOUS because lbr the hierarchy may not care about what turians do in off-hours but they WOULD care about the superior/subordinate thing, the human thing, the fact that they’re doing this while a war is going on. basically one of their best agents is on the Normandy to negotiate their interests and they’re basically at the whims of their relationship the whole time)... it’s a lot! all of that sort of makes it tragic, but I’m curious to see how they’d overcome it.

anyway, all of that is where I’m coming from when I think or write about this ship, but there’s a lot more I’m not mentioning here. there are a lot of juxtapositions that in my head that I’ve either added or extrapolated from canon that also interest me about this pairing. Garrus is a former cop, as is his father; Lydia is a poor kid who used to be in a gang out of necessity. Garrus is a turian with often traditionalist thinking; Shepard is a human who has much less sociopolitical power than him, even if she is his superior on the Normandy. both of them are roughly as old as the First Contact War, when their people were at each other’s throats not thirty years ago. Garrus idolizes Spectrehood while Lydia hates it, feeling it was forced on her. they can’t eat the same food. and yet despite all of that, and the fact that they need translators to communicate, they manage to understand each other when a lot of the world around them doesn’t.

god this is not even the full list of it. anyway I could go on but I’ll stop there lol.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

oh jesus, so much. I’m a grouchy and picky shipper, be warned.

pining can always make my ships more interesting, and imo it’s a consistent part of any ship of Shepard’s, considering it’s wildly inappropriate and unprofessional for her to be fucking any subordinate, so I think more consideration could be given to shakarian in the “we shouldn’t be having a thing and oh also you’re an alien and I’m kind of scared of both your government and your body” angle! I hope to explore that a bit with a fic I’m writing (if I ever finish it, god).

I hate the flavor of fandom!shakarian where Shepard romanced Kaidan in ME1 then felt “betrayed” when he’s confused and hurt on Horizon, so she gets with Garrus as like... revenge? idk. and then Garrus usually develops this bias against Kaidan as a sort of author mouthpiece (which is inconsistent with his characterization cause Garrus is nothing but pleased to have Kaidan back on the SR-2 in ME3!) and takes up the anti-Kaidan crusade cause K ~questioned the commander~ (since when does Garrus fall over himself defending a superior from criticism?) like, idk. I think Garrus can be sensitive to the fact that that reuniting must’ve been painful for Shepard, but also be aware that it was also really painful for Kaidan because all of Kaidan’s complicated feelings about Shepard’s resurrection were, realistically, things Garrus should’ve felt too! this trope is very popular but just feels like manufactured drama for drama’s sake, idk, I’m also not big on love triangles so. I would much rather people just rescue Ashley on Virmire and avoid the whole thing rather than have previously-romanced Kaidan around in ME3 for the sole purpose of forcing him to watch Shepard/Garrus being happy together tbh.

I think full goody-goody paragon Shepard is too preachy to make a good partner for Garrus and full shoot-anyone-in-my-way renegade Shepard encourages and emboldens his worst tendencies (and Castis Vakarian is right to disapprove of them). most people end up playing some combination of both, or if they do settle in one camp or the other, usually there is some sense of realism where Shepard doesn’t play nice/naive or play mean all the time, so it’s rare I see either of those kinds of extreme Shepards depicted, but in general if there is a Shepard that is so far in one direction it seems illogical to me that they ever stay together.

I think wanting a mShep romance for Garrus is a pretty welcome idea in fandom, but adding onto that, I think Garrus should’ve been romanceable in ME3 for players who changed their minds on other romances or want to play slow-burn romances! we had it for Kaidan—and should’ve had it for Ash—so (pounds fist on desk) Garrus too imo!

I hate the canon get-together because Shepard walking into the battery and asking “do you want to fuck” feels very tailored to the players who want to romance Garrus, not to who Commander Shepard is, imo. it lacked all of the subtlety and depth of some other romances—until the scene of Garrus coming to her cabin with a wine bottle, at least, cause I do like that scene, but anyway, I dislike the actual get-together.

just in general, I’m a stick in the mud, so my favorite iteration of this ship is where Shepard is resolutely professional, and the challenge of it becomes him getting her to open up, not the other way around. like, I think on some level every iteration of Shepard is a bit of a lunatic/eccentric, because you have to be to do the things they do, but I like to see their flirting with less of her calling him “big guy” (not sure where that came from, is that in canon? I must’ve missed it, but personally I don’t like it) and more of Garrus making wisecracks in the canteen while he’s talking to Joker, but he’s looking at her out of the corner of his eyes and he really said his joke with the aim of making her laugh, and as she’s reading her datapad she hears him, and even when she wants to chuckle she stops himself and just smirks cause she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a laugh, but he sees her lips twitch and feels his heart flutter. that. I want more of that.

oh lastly, I hate “Shepard takes Vakarian clan markings” in any iteration. there is no canon relation to turians being poc—in fact I’d argue they have sociopolitical privilege real-world bipoc do not—but the concept of social face markings, face tattoos, etc., is rooted in non-white cultures and with the fact that 1) turians had a literal civil war over the territories those markings represent, 2) we don’t even know if marriage is how markings are shared or if non-turians are ever invited to wear them in the first place, 3) most of the art of this trend, lbr, is of mostly white Shepards in wedding dresses and blue face paint... all that combined just makes me frown and scroll faster every time I see it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bipoc Shepard with Vakarian face markings in fic/art, and that to me is very telling (not because they should have them, but because bipoc fans who make bipoc Shepards usually recognize when a racially-coded trope is uhhhhh not so great to appropriate for someone not of that group).

[kneltnotbowed]

Dib flips up off of his hands and back onto his feet, before summoning his hoverboard disc to sit on and regain his bearings.  The sight of humans walking around the ship is somewhat more normal now, but Dib still tends to avoid it when he can.  

It is the end of his duties for the day, as his Tallest’s public activities are completed for today, but he still has a bit of leeway before he is expected back home in their suite.  He wants to make sure he is spending a good amount of time with his datefriends, and with Caleb.  Some of that being taking care of Caleb so his datefriends get their own time to do things.  But he manages his schedule so he still has some time to roam the ship, even if it is less than before.

This time he has a destination in mind for his roaming.  Which he supposes makes it rather more like traveling than roaming, but that is a petty difference to squabble over, especially simply in his own thoughts.  The amount of crew he passes dwindles, and the time traveling allows him to knead some feeling back into his hands through his gloves.  Thin but shiny-chill to the touch, they do not get in the way.  

And then he is there, arrived at a door which would not open for simply any crew member.  Not so long ago he led people here, but now he enters alone.  Not his usual observation lounge, but the one Nny resides in.  As he enters, the lights remain at the steady low glow they’d been at, as he had figured it would be rude to plunge the room into darkness, now.

A slightly different tap of metal on metal makes him look up.  “I suppose I should have known you would find this place, huh?”  He smiles at Replicator, who rears up and waves its front limbs at him.  There’s no acid spit in his direction, so Dib takes it as a friendly greeting.  “I appreciate you not taking this.”  Dib moves to the table, checking its contents.  

He runs his knuckle around the cap of the bottle, unimaginative but he’d not gotten any other flavor preferences, so it’s another pineapple juice with a black bow on it.  Beside that, the object he was actually speaking to Repicator about.  After all, Replicator has a bit of a thing for stealing away and hoarding knives.  It seems to know somehow that this one is important to leave in place, though.  The blade is simple, plain metal with a bit of a curved tip, and a black ribboned bow adorning the hilt that matches the one on the bottle beside it.

Finally, Dib turns to the centerpiece of the room, the ferocious dark-ice frozen statue of Nny.  He double checks that Nny has a view out the window.   It is not much, but they had spoken about watching the stars…  “I do not know if you can hear me, dear friend.” He reaches out, briefly brushing the tips of his fingers over the ice coating one of the outstretched wrists, taking in the full measure of fury on display.  “I am Skydib.   You are far from those who wish you harm.”  He holds no blame for his other friends who would hurt this friend, as they have been hurt by him.  Dib can only hope that things will work out, as he always does.   “If you wake, I hope you will stick around and allow us to speak properly.  I still look forward to meeting you.  And I would like to help you figure out what you wish to do.  Until then, I hope you can rest.”  

Dib knows it is silly to hope that someone fully encased in ice might hear him, but he is nothing if not silly and frivolous.  And, just in case, much of what he had just spoken aloud has also been recorded, and set to play, should the ship detect a change in movements or life signs here.

He’ll wait here a few minutes he decides, before getting back to doing a circuit of the ship.  Perhaps he will make his way through one of the smaller out-of-the-way markets they do not usually get to as often, and look for something nice to bring home.  Replicator hops onto his board, and then crawls up his back to just hang out there.  He idly taps the blocks that make up mandible-like shapes, where it peers over his shoulder.  

For all the oddities, this is still another day in Dib’s life, and he would not have it any other way.

[slunatic]

My KiGo stuff

The fandom where I got my start. Here’s a list of my KiGo works with summaries. Goes from newest to oldest. *Note, these are not all of my Kim Possible works, just the ones with KiGo.

1. Build it Up: Pariah series finale. Shego and Tatsu search for a way to occupy their time while their girlfriends are busy with school. They end up going into business together to build a better future for themselves. (Pariah is a 10 part series).

2. Written on the Ten: Kim and Shego are trying to figure out how to spend their anniversary. They're open to advice and they reminisce a little to figure it out. One shot. KiGo. No real plot. Just sort of fluff.

3. Going with a Smile: Short sequel to One in a Billion. Take a trip back into the Walking the Line universe to see how Kim and Shego's children are faring as Todd moves out and gets closer to Mayah Director. Also watch as Jayden goes to talk to Bokuden Stoppable and meets his aunt, Hana. There's trouble to be had by all, of course. (Part five of the Walking the Line saga).

4. Humanities and Sciences: BoKiGo. Sequel to In the Middle! Come see how Bonnie, Kim, and Shego live their lives, live together, and try to work a relationship between the three of them. A series of one-shots... kinda.

5. Era of the Warring States: In a world without Kim Possible, war between Shego and SSJ has destroyed the land and the people. 20 years later Kim reappears and finds a world she doesn't recognize. A world that she may not be able to save. She may not even be able to save herself. This story is based on a series of “What If” pictures by the very talented artist, YogurthFrost.

6. Bubblegum Flavored: KP fusion with the anime Bubblegum Crisis 2040. When Kim moves to Mega Go City, she joins the Knight Sabers to fight against berserker Bebes while something darker involving Gemini and Drakken seems to be going on. Eventually KiGo, BetViv, and TaraFelix.

7. Family Gathering: Pariah Universe. Set after "Re-education of Jocelyn Possible." The Possibles get together to celebrate Christmas in Middleton with their loved ones. The Possible family seems to grow during this holiday when a few new guests show up. KiGo. Series Part 9 of Pariah.

8. For Fame, Fortune, and Freedom: AU. After being accused of a crime that she didn't commit, Kim becomes an outlaw to avoid being executed. Join Kim on an adventure as she learns how to be a pirate and eventually becomes the captain of a pirate ship. KiGo, BetViv, BoNique, and RonYori.

9. Blood Out: For the Halloween spirit. Sequel to Blood In. Kim and Shego find that they haven't moved past Shego's fears of Kim leaving and she is pushing Kim away, but they don't know why. What will they do? And just who is Carmilla? Come find out. KiGo. Series Part 4 of Vampire Kimmie. 

10. In the Middle: KiBo. KiGo. BoKiGo. Shego wants Kim. Bonnie wants Kim. Kim wants them both. Who's going to have her way? Probably Kim because she can do anything. Series Part 1 of In the Middle.

11. The Re-education of Joss Possible: Sequel to Cryptic...kind of. Latest in the Pariah universe. Joss comes to stay with Trin and Kim for the summer. The sisters try to connect with Joss, who is a little difficult about things. Can Joss learn to get along with her cousins? Series Part 8 of Pariah.

12. Blood In: For the Halloween spirit. Sequel to "New Life." Kim and Shego are still haunted by demons of their past, even though they are free. Is Shego in jeopardy of losing Kim after everything they've gone through? KiGo. Series Part 3 of Vampire Kimmie.

13. Change Your Mind: Oneshot. Shego remained Miss Go and started a relationship with Kim that doesn't seem to be working out. Is it her or is it Kim? KiGo.

14. Be Careful What You Do: Kim attends an important party where a pretty redhead hits on her at the end of the night. This is a night that could cost Kim her reputation and so much more. KiGo.

15. New Life: The sequel to New Blood, for the Halloween spirit. The quest for the cure continues with Kim still being a vampire. She and Shego are still under the thumb of GJ. Will they get away? Will Kim be cured? KiGo. Series Part 2 of Vampire Kimmie.

16. One in a Billion: AU. Sequel to The Gods Must Be Laughing. Shego and Kim are now trying to be a regular couple and do the things that they see their friends doing, like get married and have kids. Series Part 4 of Walking the Line saga.

17. Underdogs: Sequel to Cryptic, sort of. Set in the Pariah universe. The past comes back to bite Trin and Shin in the butt. Kim finds herself affected by the problem too and Shego's along for the ride as usual. Drakken's back. Series Part 7 of Pariah.

18. Dirty Little Secrets: Everyone has secrets. Some deeper than others. Come take a sneak peek at some secrets. Various pairings. Series of one shots, some of which contain romance. (Only the first chapter of this is KiGo).

19. Honor Bound: AU. Set in Japan during the Tokugawa era. Director Betty recruits samurai Kim and ninja Yori for a job to find out about a plot to overthrow the government. The job: go undercover as geisha. Kigo. RonYori.

20. Black Hole Philosophy: An AU of my Pariahverse. Pretty much, the pairings have been reversed and Shin has a girlfriend. By the end of it, things should be in their proper order. Can it be done? Series Part 6 of Pariah.

21. New Blood: For the Halloween spirit. Kim and Ron go looking for missing persons, only for Kim to become one. Is it really because of a vampire? The story will be Kigoish. Series Part 1 of Vampire Kimmie.

22. The Gods Must Be Laughing: AU. The sequel to On a Short Leash. Shego and Kim continue their odd relationship. Still a weird sort of Kigo. Series Part 3 of Walking the Line saga.

23. Night Terrors: Set in the Pariah universe. When Kim makes cupcakes, it brings the crew the worse nightmares when they go to bed. What could possibly frighten this crew? Series Part 5 of Pariah.

24. Another Time, Another Place: When Shego discovers an old book in the attic of her family's old house, it leads to Kigo in two different eras.

25. There For You: AU. Kigo. Kim is a hero, an author, and a painter who can do anything, except get a date. That probably explains why Bonnie gives her a card to an escort service.

26. Cryptic: Sequel to Pariah. There is a Possible clan get together at the Lazy C Ranch. Insults fly while problems arise. Shego never knew that Montana could be so interesting. Series Part 4 of Pariah.

27. Maybe: Kigo. One shot. Shego loves making Kim angry, but she can't figure out why. Maybe the reasons don't matter.

28. Forsaken: Set in the Pariah universe. A Possible has been chosen to save the world from the apocalypse. Wait, it's not Kim. It's Trin? We're as good as dead. Series Part 3 of Pariah.

29. A History of Yesterday: It starts with a honeymoon and ends with an affair. Or does it start with an affair and end with a honeymoon? Whichever.

30. On a Short Leash: AU. This is the sequel to Walking the Line. Kim and Shego look to renew their unorthodox relationship. Series Part 2 of Walking the Line saga.

31. Pariah: AUish. Who does the hero Kim Possible look up to? Check it out. Series Part 1 of Pariah. 

32. Walking the Line: AU like a mug. Shego is a cop and Kim...well, you won't believe what Kim is. Series Part 1 of Walking the Line saga.

33. Addiction: Kim and Shego find themselves addicted and now they're looking to quit each other. Kigo. I feel I should warn people about the humor in this story, apparently, some people find it funny.

34. Comprehension: Kigo of sorts. Shego sits and thinks about a certain girl that can do anything.

These three fics are only on FFN because I haven’t moved them yet.

35. The Beast Within: AU. Middleton is a town where everyone has special powers. Well, not everyone. Kim is the only normal one. How does she cope? Will be kigo eventually.

36. The Beast, Without: Sequel to the Beast Within. Kim is still trying to get the hang of her dragon powers while former members of WEE seem to be plotting against her. Is she ready for them?

37. The Beast Within: Special Edition: Just like the title says. Two people with super powers come into Middleton to take on Kim and Shego. Who are the new duo? Whose powers are better? Who will win the brawl?

[followtheowls]

Kids throw Kanera surprise date night

Thanks for the prompt :) 

I actually really love this prompt because it reminded me of a Tik Tok I recently watched lol and that inspired the path I took this fic. Re-reading it through after writing it, Sabine and Ezra do kinda seem childish, but roll with it because the concept is super cute.

Also it’s kinda fitting a prompt with Valentine’s day coming up.

I imagine it’s set somewhere in the second half of season one.

Words: 2.5k

…….

Ezra sank heavily into the Dejarik booth in the gallery, his eyes tracking the game currently being played between Sabine and Chopper. Sabine was staring intently at the holo-pieces in front of her and didn’t even look up when he sat down. The sounds of Hera and Kanans argument rang down the hall. It didn’t sound like anything too serious, but it was definitely strange to see the couple arguing - it wasn’t something Ezra had witnessed before that day. Despite just having sat down, Ezra fidgeted nervously, the fact that his Captain and his Master were arguing made him feel on edge. 

He’d only been on the Ghost for a few months, but Ezra had gotten used to the lifestyle of his new living situation. He never went to bed hungry, the Ghost had heating, and he had access to regular showers with hot water. The best part of it all was the place he had found for himself in their little family on the Ghost. Ezra jumped, startled out of his thoughts as a particularly loud “Kanan!” echoed down the hall and into the gallery. His frown deepened. He knew how these things went - the two leaders of a group fight and the group ends up splitting up because the rest are forced to take sides. Ezra had seen it before on the streets with gangs of other Loth rats. Another pang of unhappiness rang through him. He’d just gotten used to being onboard and he was finally happy - happier than he had remembered being in a long time - why did things have to go wrong now?

“You okay, kid?” Ezra looked over to Sabine, who had been distracted from her intense game of Dejarik, and was staring at Ezra in mild concern. “You kinda look like you’re freaking out about something.”

Ezra rolled his eyes in annoyance at her usage of the nickname kid (Sabine was barely two years older than him!), and forced a smile. “I’m not freaking out about anything! It’s just, well,” Ezra floundered, struggling to come up with the right way to phrase his concern without revealing too much. “Uh, have they ever fought like this before?” Ezra finished timidly.

“Who? Oh, wait, do you mean Kanan and Hera? Do they fight? Is that what you’re worried about?” She clarified, inquisitively. At Ezra’s nod she continued, “Don’t think too much about it; they argue every once in a while. They get over it eventually, I think some people call it a, uh, lovers quarrel?” She snickered and Chopper emitted a loud beep of laughter. “They just need some time together that's not about missions or supply runs or anything too serious.”

Ezra visibly relaxed at Sabine’s words. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.” His eyes clouded as a thoughtful expression appeared on his face. 

“Uh, oh,” Sabine chuckled. “What are you up to?”

Ezra’s face broke into a large grin. “I have an idea,” he started, “and you can help.”

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

“Come on, let’s get the supplies inside,” Hera ordered, while shifting her grip on the package in her hands. “I wonder what the kids have gotten up to while we were out.”

Kanan huffed. “Probably nothing good,” he muttered. “I don’t know how they get into the situations they do. Force only knows how they survived before we came along.”

Hera smirked and playfully retorted, while poking him in the shoulder. “Some might say they get their troublesome streak from you.”

Kanan chuckled dryly and rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess I’d have to disagree with you there, Captain Rebel. I’d say they take after you and your wild antics.”

Hera playfully turned her nose upwards feigning an air of innocence. “I have no idea what you’re referring to Mister I-like-to-jump-out-the-Phantom-midflight-and-have-my-apprentice-follow-my-lead.” 

Kanan just snorted humorously in response while making his way up the ramp of the Ghost. They both set down their crates in the cargo bay and looked up to see the twin Cheshire grins aimed at them from the two youngest members of the crew. The older Jedi and the pilot exchanged wary glances with each other. “What have you two done?” Hera asked with a brow raised and a tone that indicated a fair amount of suspicion.

“Oh, nothing to worry about,” Sabine replied, sporting a cheeky smile, while Ezra beside her was seemingly vibrating with excitement. “Just a few decorations, why don’t you come see.” Ezra nodded enthusiastically, and giggled while racing up the ladder before the rest of them.

Kanan and Hera exchanged another glance, both sporting cautious smiles, before following the two teens up the ladder and Sabine ushered them into the gallery. What greeted them was a scene that they never would have predicted. The gallery was decorated in a romantic fashion - Hera assumed this was mostly Sabine’s doing. There were two sets of silverware and glasses on the Dejarik table and a bunch of lit candles in various parts of the room. There were also decorative hearts and flowers made of flimsi strewn throughout the room. 

Once again, the couple stared at each other, this time bewildered instead of suspicious. Whatever they were expecting, this was not it. Ezra returned again with what looked like a thick piece of fabric or ribbon tied around his collar like a bow tie. He giggled again and started to lead Hera to her seat while Sabine pushed Kanan towards the opposite seat. “Kids - what? What is this?” Hera questioned. 

Sabine replied with an everlasting grin. “Welcome to date night on the Ghost, we will be your hosts for the evening! Thank you for choosing us, please settle in and get comfortable. My colleague Ezra will take it from here!” And at that she disappeared out the door, heading in the direction of the kitchen. Ezra stepped forward with two pieces of flimsi that he placed in front of the seated couple. 

“Here is the menu,” Ezra said playfully, putting on a posh accent. “Let me know if there's any questions! First off, what would the both of you like to drink?”

Kanan’s eyes crinkled with amusement and affection and a smile tugged at his lips. “We’ll take some water, and I don’t know… Hmm…” He said, playing along. “How about you surprise us? Sounds good, Hera?”

Hera hid her smile with her hand. “Of course, love. Surprise us with your best drink.” Ezra nodded vigorously, and made a big show of writing something down on a notepad. He then bounded off in the same direction Sabine disappeared to, but not before bowing in an exaggeratedly. 

The couple turned back to face one another and there was silence for several moments until Hera exclaimed, “Oh. My. Goodness. This has to be the most adorable thing they’ve ever done!” She tried to make sure her laughter was not too loud or giving the kids the wrong idea. Kanan echoed her reaction, his shoulders shaking with his suppressed chuckles.

“Let’s see what menu they’ve worked up for us in the meantime,” Kanan proposed, still sporting an amused grin. “By the way,” Kanan leaned in to whisper to her, “did you see his little bow-tie?” Hera hummed and nodded, her attention diverted to the menu.

The menu itself was handwritten (presumably by Ezra if the handwriting and spelling were any kind of indicator) and was comically short, provoking another round of amusement from the two. There, apparently, was going to be three courses. The first course was, hilariously, a choice between the four different flavors of ration bars they had on ship. The second course was a selection between the two different types of canned soups they had one board far back in the pantry. The dessert section announced it would be a chefs special, but didn’t list the item.

After only moments of deliberation, the two had made their selections, just in time for the return of the ‘waitstaff’. Giggling, Ezra stepped forward holding two glasses of water, in his excitement a little sloshed over the side. He set them down in front of the pair, and stepped out of the way while Sabine brought over two champagne flutes filled with a sparkling pinkish-purple beverage.

“Ooh,” Hera commented, “What’s this pretty drink?” 

The kids met each other's gaze, and Sabine replied, “It’s our signature drink, we call it ‘the Sparkling Spectre’.” Ezra giggled and clapped his hands. “It’s really just meiloorun and jogan juice mixed with Alderaanian champagne.”

Now that made Hera strike a serious face and she opened her mouth to inquire for further explanation. “And, how, may I ask, did you acquire the champagne?” She doubted they had gotten it themselves, no vendor would believe either of them to be over the legal age. 

Breaking character for a moment, Ezra explained Zeb had generously offered up the bottle, which he had received as a gift a while ago, claiming it to be too bubbly for his liking. At that response, Hera relaxed. 

“Well, I will leave you with my colleague, as I must be returning to my kitchen.”

Ezra stepped forward, again putting on a posh accent and asked if they were ready to place their order. They responded affirmatively, and relayed their orders to him. “Very well, I will inform the kitchen,” Ezra confirmed. “Before I go, are your beverages to your liking?” The both of them sipped their drink and responded affirmatively.

Kanan and Hera watched, not quite suppressing their amusement, as Ezra scurried out of the room towards the kitchen to tell Sabine what they had ordered. On his way out, he passed Chopper, giving him a swift kick and ordering him to play the music Sabine had found. Chopper replied he would do no such thing, but remained in the room. Hera covered her smile with her hand and giggled. “I wonder what brought this on?” She asked Kanan. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

“Eh, I can never tell with that kid. It sure is funny though - and nice to not have to have to organize dinner, even if the dinner’s going to be ration bars and canned soup.” Kanan replied, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Chopper once again made his presence known with a loud string of beeps. “Baby Jedi’s scared that Mom’s gonna break up with you, so he and Spectre 5 are making a date to offset that outcome.” Kanan and Hera looked at each other in bewilderment, both of them clearly wondering where Ezra got that idea from.

“Well, obviously that’s not true. I wonder where he got that idea from?” Hera contemplated for a moment before realization dawned on her face.“He must’ve been spooked by how we were arguing earlier. We’ll clear it up - he’ll be fine. You hear that Chop? No one’s breaking up with anyone!”

Chopper responded with a curse, and fled the room whooping with laughter, but not before beeping “A droid can only dream!” at Kanan, who rolled his eyes. 

Several minutes of pleasant conversation followed until their youngest crew member returned with a tray in his hand. “For you, Madame, and for you, Master Jedi.” He placed the ration bars in front of them, and backed away heading towards the kitchen.

----------

Around thirty minutes of warm and pleasant conversation and two courses later, the Twi’lek and Jedi had finished both their ration bars and soup. “Delicious, Ezra,” Hera praised, purposefully holding Kanan’s hand in a visible manner; she wanted to try to ease his worries about the couple. “We loved it!”

“You did good, kid,” Kanan smiled at him, picking up on Hera’s intentions. “It’s been an excellent date.” His body language was relaxed in a way Hera hadn’t seen in a while, he’d had a tenseness to him ever since he began to teach Ezra the ways of the Force; it was almost as if he struggled to relax lately and sometimes the evidence of the heaviness of his past weighed down on him. But, right now, Kanan was grinning happily while looking at his student, his eyes twinkling in a prideful expression that Hera noticed was often inching everyday towards paternal.

Ezra beamed in response. “That’s great, and there’s still the last course!” He took away their finished soup bowls, headed back towards the kitchen. From the gallery, they could hear Ezra relay their compliments of the meal to Sabine and, seconds later, the cheering and slapping sound which presumably was a high five. The couple now also heard the addition of a new voice echoing down the hall - Zeb. They were thankful to hear his voice, as neither teenager had any cooking skills.

Dessert finally arrived along with the rest of the crew, this time Zeb finally making an appearance. He presented them with their dessert - a stack of fresh waffles with slices of meiloorun and whipped cream - it was clearly made by Zeb as he was the only one with the necessary skills to make it. 

Hera gasped with appreciation, clapping her hands together in praise. “Wow, this looks amazing everybody! I can’t wait to try it. While you're all here, we just want to say how much we appreciate this. We love it and we love our little family here on the Ghost.” Spectres 4, 5, and 6 smiled back at them, and Hera gracefully chose not to comment if Ezra’s eyes happened to glisen more than normal. “You all are so important to us, really!”

Zeb laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Eh, that’s enough sappiness for me, I’m going to go clean the mess they left in the kitchen.” He backed, away leaving the kids with the parental figures of the ship.

“Hera’s right,” Kanan continued. “We couldn’t have asked for a better family, kids who care enough to organize a whole dinner for the two of us. We love it and wouldn’t change it for anything in the galaxy.” His words clearly resonated with the two teenagers, both coming from sensitive familial backgrounds. He opened his arms, inviting them both in for a hug, which Ezra practically melted into. To his left, Sabine was hugging Hera.

“Why don’t the both of you stay while we eat dinner, hmm?” Hera asked, reaching across the table to grasp Ezra’s hand. The two teens nodded and settled in beside the adults who began to dig into their dessert. They chatted joyfully with the young teens, enjoying the leisure time. Kanan wrapped an arm around Ezra’s shoulders, and the teen eventually leaned his head against Kanan’s arm. For what felt like the thousandth time that day, Kanan’s heart fluttered with affection and gratefulness for the family he and Hera had built, and the home they have been able to provide for the younger members of the crew, both of whom were products of difficult living situations. Kanan met Hera’s eyes for a brief moment and knew she was appreciating the same thing. Together, they basked in the intense sense of pride for the thoughtfulness and creativity of their younger counterparts, knowing that their family, in that moment, was untouchable by those of the Empire who wished to break them.

[omnicat]

A Brief Summary of More Seasons of “Timeless” (Inevitably Leading Up to Gladiator!Flynn)

Hey @ununpredictableme, here’s that thing I promised to show you! :D (Again with a delay, but better late than never, right? /o\ )

The thing about time travel was, it was just too damn tempting for its own good. The whole “doubling back over your own lifetime will kill you” thing was an effective deterrent to whims like “that date was a disaster, let’s go give my past self some tips to improve the experience” and “we’re going to try this specific evil plan over and over until it succeeds, dammit!”, but as it turned out, that still left plenty of bigger ambitions.

First, of course, there was Rittenhouse and its covert world domination schemes: the very reason time travel managed to be invented in the first place. Briefly interrupted by Garcia Flynn’s roaring rampage of burning Rittenhouse to the ground and/or saving the wife and daughter they’d murdered. (Preferably both at the same time, but when push came to shove he would’ve settled for going down in a blaze of martyrdom, survivor’s guilt soothed by the knowledge that he’d at least tried.)

/S1; Flynn

Then back to Rittenhouse, their plans by that point out of the development phase and being implemented by a visionary with more flair and philosophy than common sense, but plenty of dangerous ideas either way. Though it didn’t take long for Rittenhouse’s deplorable recruitment practices to come back and bite them in the ass, resulting in a coup by one of its lowest-esteemed members.

/S2; Rittenhouse

Emma Whitmore, driven by nothing but a bitter desire to thrive over the backs of anyone who had ever harmed or held her back with even so much as their mere existence, but no longer knowing what thriving meant after the decades of pressure and manipulation and isolation Rittenhouse had subjected her to, turned the time machine into her personal pirate ship. She looted and pillaged her way through history, taking treasures and torching everything that pissed her off. And there wasn’t much that didn’t piss her off. If Flynn’s strategy had been to blow up especially fishy-smelling rocks and see what Rittenhouse filth came scurrying out from underneath, and Nicholas Keynes’ had been to repaint history in his own image in intricate and meticulously crafted brush strokes, Emma’s was to punish those in history who disadvantaged her and twist the arms of those who could elevate her in the cruelest ways she could think of. It was no wonder Jessica Logan had turned on her, in the end. It had only been a matter of time before Emma would have turned on her – and her baby.

/S3; Emma

For a short while, they thought Jessica’s change of heart was the end of it; Rittenhouse was in ruins, Emma dead, and Flynn mostly well-behaved as part of the Lifeboat crew. The antagonist bench was empty, the heroes no longer constantly preoccupied with defending themselves. The team finally had the time and opportunity to piece their timetravel-mangled lives and families back together. Lucy un-erased Amy, and their parents along with her; Flynn found a way to save Iris and Lorena without erasing all the victories their deaths had led to. Wyatt and Jessica took the Lifeboat to the 1400’s to raise their little family and clear their heads for a while. That while turned into forever. In the end, instead of disposing of the Lifeboat somewhere no modern villain would ever find it, as the initial plan had been, their grandson returned the ship to the 21st century, to a date mere weeks from the day they’d departed from. Sherwin was a bright, eager young man with Jessica’s eyes, Wyatt’s smile, an insatiable desire to see everything the past and future had to show him – and his best friend, Willard, in tow... who proved startlingly quick to be corrupted by the power of time travel.

Willard stole the ApocaLifeboat (thanks, Lucy Croft and Bearded Wyatt, that autopilot was just what they’d needed to make time travel even more of a crapshoot) and jumped from time period to time period, looking for a place and moment where he could install himself as the next best coming since Jesus, and revealing future technology and knowledge everywhere he went. He altered history with reckless abandon and relocated dozens upon dozens of bamboozled followers to eras they had no business being in.

While the team struggled to deal with Willard, Sherwin got attached to the 21th century, Lucy figured out how to deal with her restored family now that she’d uncovered the sordid truth of their ancestry, and Flynn wrestled with the self-hatred and guilt that threatened to tear his own newly-reunited family apart. And after the team returned from a jump with a damaged ship to a timeline where Connor was dead of a disease that didn’t exist before they left, taking his vital expertise and resources to the grave with him, Jiya and Rufus had to A: figure out how to undo his death, and B: develop a way to keep anybody else they cared about but who couldn’t come on a jump from being lost or critically changed by random divergences to their personal history, poofing out of existence because of family tree disruptions like Amy, or being hijacked by the enemy like Jessica. Objective A was accomplished with another jump, and objective B with what Rufus, who had the crucial eureka moment, got to dub the Wellsaday Cage (a portmanteau of Faraday Cage and H.G. Wells, the author of the first ever time machine story). The Cage ensured that everybody inside it shared in the temporal bubble that made it so the team didn’t get swept up by the effects of their actions while they were on a jump and always came back to the altered present as their old selves. BOOM. So many problems and four-dimensional puzzle induced-headaches solved.

/S4; Willard from the 14th Century

No sooner did the team stop Willard and start bickering among themselves about how – if at all – to fix the mess he’d made of history, than the remnants of Rittenhouse (their cult annoyingly unscathed by what Willard’s had wrought) reared its ugly head again. The remaining followers, a motley bunch who had rearranged the once unassailable hierarchy with blood and backstabbing in the wake of the purge of all Rittenhouse’s biggest and most actually influential figures, fought with a zeal only found in true believers who had seen their cult’s long-awaited judgement day pass by without so much as a lightning strike and doubled down on their faith regardless. Nothing the Time Team did could stop them – until finally, after an inexplicable delay of four seasons, they returned to David Rittenhouse and smothered the entire organization in the bud by killing him before he could start spreading his ideology in the first place.

/S5; Rittenhouse Redux

Preventing the birth of the Rittenhouse cult altered the history of the USA beyond recognition and, since it was Rittenhouse’s relentless urging and unlimited funds that made time travel possible, erased everything that had occurred because of it in the previous seasons. The team made a number of jumps to win some lotteries and make some jackpot investments to help themselves and the loved ones they’d saved with the Wellsaday Cage start over, and everybody set themselves to the task of adjusting to their new reality and dealing with the scars left by erased timelines only they now remembered.

Then time-travelers from centuries into the future started showed up. The team hadn’t had to wonder who the good guys and the bad guys were or what side they should be on since they cottoned on to the truth of what Flynn kept saying in S1. Now they were left questioning everything again. Who were these people from the future? What did they want, and could they be trusted to tell the truth about that? When they started contradicting each other and the cracks in their initially united front started to show, who could the team believe? And what would happen when the team fractured along long-dormant fault lines of trust (among themselves, and toward the future travelers) and philosophical disagreements over what time travel should or shouldn’t be used for and allowed to cause??

Much tension, very suspense. Wow. They figured it out eventually, though. And hey, guess what? Flynn’s inexplicable inability to come up with a sensible Plan B to kill David Rittenhouse all the way back in S1 wasn’t so inexplicable after all! Turns out it was a remote intervention by a distant-future scumbag – let’s call him Gabmucs – who read about the dude’s many different deaths in a history book about the Time War Era and the development of the tech that would come to shield The Future He Comes From from being affected by all that temporal chaos from the past. (Based on Jiya & Rufus’s Wellsaday Cage, but applied to the whole solar system past a certain point in time.)

Gabmucs thought all those ideas about oppression and suppression and world domination sounded right up his alley, and set up some kind of outcome enforcer tech (derivative from the Temporal Shield just like the Temporal Shield was a derivative of the Wellsaday Cage) around David R’s life to ensure only one specific fate from the many timelines centered around him would come to pass, and so his ideas would come to fruition no matter what. When the team first discovered David’s existence, Gabmucs’s technology had detected Flynn’s intentions and befuddled his senses until he just couldn’t think straight enough to kill the guy anymore. The eventual failure of this tech was what prompted Gabmucs to manipulate a team from his own time to go back and help him intervene in person. And while he was there, he might as well take some crucial steps toward disabling the Temporal Shield, so he could go home afterwards to a world steeped in glorious Rittenhouse-flavored evil tailor-made to his tastes.

He just wasn’t very honest to most of his team about the motives or objectives of their mission, and they didn’t take kindly to finding out the truth. Especially when one of them (let’s call her... uh... Niwrehs? /o\ I hate character names almost as much as fic titles) had fallen in love with Sherwin. (In the end, Niwhrehs stayed in the 21st century. And my wish of having both a distant past and a far future member on the team was fulfilled! Also, this season definitely has the modern team visiting the future AT LEAST once!!)

/S6; The Future

And just when they thought that was finally the end of it, Stanley Fisher arose from his ever-worsening stupor of visions and turned out to have become a temporal eldritch demi-god. A bored temporal eldritch demigod. Having seen literally everything there ever was to see, in every timeline that had ever been, he started changing things with the biggest impact possible, purely so he could experience something truly new again. And he didn’t need a time machine to transport himself to the past.

Which is what finally brings us to antiquity, and the massive, unimaginable changes he could cause by knocking history off course that far back... AND GLADIATOR FLYNN! :D The special effects budget goes through the roof! Old Rome! Ancient Egypt! The Aztecs! Atilla the Hun! Cavemen and Medieval knights and pirates and samurai and and and... WOOLY MAMMOTHS!! Good thing the far future guys left universal translator tech behind!

Wait, wait, back up, whaaaat?? WELL, you see, because of the accident that gave him his visions, Stanley was never affected by the timeline changing the way the rest of reality around him was. Even though it seemed like he was at first. But actually, every time the timeline changed, he instead absorbed the quantum imprint of the new version of himself and all the memories, visions, viability, and temporal capability that came with it. This slowly drove him crazier and crazier with every edit to the timeline, the human brain utterly unequipped to handle so many realities crammed into one mind – until the last jump of S6. That one tipped him over a critical mass of timelines into near-omniscience, and rearranged his physical and psychic being to finally accommodate it all.

(Look, no time-travel story can be called a real time-travel story unless everything goes batshit insane at some point, okay?)

Jiya had been experiencing the same thing, just on a much, much smaller scale, since she was shielded from most of the timeline changes by either being part of the jump team or being safely ensconced inside a Wellsaday Cage. But when it became clear that the team didn’t stand a chance against Stanley, she made a desperate gamble and told her past self what happened to Stanley... and how she could replicate it in herself. Jiya expected to die when she returned from this jump, but instead of being absorbed by the new timeline’s eldritch Jiya, that Jiya made sure they remained two separate entities. Girl Jiya rejoined her team, Eldritch Jiya transcended into Demi-Goddess Jiya, and between two time machines and a walking force of quantum nature, they kicked Stanley’s ass. Demi-Goddess Jiya absorbed his temporal whatever and became full-blown Time Goddess Jiya, who then merged with the timestream itself and ensured that all the time travel fuckery was finally, FINALLY, fucking over, and this season finale would be the definitive show finale. And everybody lived happily ever after.

EVERYBODY.

Yes, even if they were erased three hundred timelines ago. Yes, even if nobody was supposed to remember them anymore; she’s god now, she can fix that. That and so much more. And she does! Because she’s nice like that. Fuck ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’, the Goddess Jiya’s in charge now, and she makes sure time travel will not continue to or ever newly hurt her friends and family again.

/S7; Temporal Eldritch Demi-God Stanley Fisher

THE END

(Sorry Paulina, your scribbles will never come to anything. Or maybe they will, but your results will be relentlessly trolled by time!Jiya.)

[songbookff]

Valentine's j/7 ❤

I’m making this an established janeway/seven. Set whenever you want it to be. Also it turned out a waaaayyy longer than I thought...so I also posted it on A03. Thank you, anon. If you want me to gift you the fic on A03, just message me your username. Or if you want to stay anon, that’s fine too. 

In the early morning, Captain Janeway entered her office and went straight for her replicator. Coffee was calling. She gave the computer her normal order, but to her surprise, when her coffee appeared, so did a single red rose. 

Tentatively, she reached out to touch the vibrantly colored rose. Attached to the green stem was a note. It was odd, to see the cardstock, although replicated and the small ribbon that secured it in place. In printed script, it read: “Roses are red...” 

Kathryn pulled the rose up to her face, knowing that the scent was replicated, but reveling in it all the same. She turned away and made it halfway to her desk before she remembered that her coffee was still sitting in the replicator. Even a red rose couldn’t completely distract her from her morning cup of survival. 

Rose in one hand, coffee in the other, she slipped into her chair behind her desk, only to find a small bouquet of purplish-blue flowers. A blue ribbon tied the stems together and another note attached. This one read, “Violets are blue...” 

She set down the rose and her coffee (after a quick sip of course) and picked up the bundle. These felt different than the replicated rose. Katheryn’s eyes widened when she realized these were from Voyager’s own botanical gardens. They were real violets, not generated by the computer. They felt much more delicate than the rose and she could see the tiny imperfections of being grown rather than created. They were truly beautiful. 

After replicating a small vase with water to set them in, Kathryn tried to start her day. However, there was the faintest smile on her face and she was convinced her coffee tasted better this morning. Finally, she pulled up her data padd to review the reports from the night shift. When the padd turned on, a single message appeared, marked urgent. 

Odd. Usually urgent messages were reported by the computer so that she didn’t miss any when she was sleeping or off duty. She pressed open and the text read: “...I would like to spend dinner in the holodeck just with you.” 

This time, Kathryn didn’t attempt to suppress the smile. Whatever Seven was up to, she had gone out of her way to surprise her this morning. The poem sounded familiar now. It was an old Earth romantic ballad of sorts: “Roses are red, violets, are blue...” usually followed by a rhyming ending that expressed love and adoration. It was clever, really. 

And very unlike Seven of Nine. This of course, only intrigued Kathryn more. 

However, she did have a ship to run. So she pulled up the reports and began reading, trying not to let the beautiful flowers on her desk distract her. It seemed everything had been quiet the night before, so the reports were short. A blown fuse on deck three had been the only excitement of the night and had been resolved within a half hour. 

The door chimed after an hour, and she rose for her morning meeting with Chakotay. He entered the office was a pleasant smile, hands tucked behind his back. “Good morning, Captain.” 

“It has been...” admitted Kathryn with a smile. She couldn’t help but noticed he had a mischievous look in his eyes. “Chakotay, what’s going on?” 

“Can’t slip anything past you,” he chuckled. “Nothing new to report, although B’elanna claims to have come up with an idea to maximize our warp capacity by another percentage. I’ll be sure to have someone double check her math before she begins any experimentation. Although, Tom has volunteered to do the preliminary fight tests on the shuttle. So she can’t think it’s that dangerous.” 

“Just make sure Harry is there to monitor,” replied Kathryn with a smirk. 

“Will do. Also, I have been asked to make a delivery.” From behind his back, Chakotay produced a red box that had been formed in the shape of a geometric heart. He was grinning from ear to ear now, obviously in on whatever Seven was planning by the looks of the box he was holding out to her. 

Curiously, she took the box, surprised a little by the weight of it. Under Chakotay’s excited gaze, she opened it to find an assortment of tiny chocolates also shaped as hearts. They appeared to be different flavors and if she could guess, different fillings as well. 

“What is going on?” she repeated, astonished at the chocolates. 

Chakotay laughed and shrugged, innocently proclaiming, “I’m just they delivery guy. But I do have strict instructions that you are to try one before we get out on the bridge.” 

Chocolate wasn’t something she normally indulged in, especially not for breakfast, but the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing somehow this was all Seven’s design, forced her to comply. She picked a dark brown piece with a red swirl design and popped it into her mouth. 

“Well?” asked Chakotay, eyebrow raised in anticipation. 

“Dark chocolate with cherry. Absolutely delicious,” declared Kathryn. Then she let out a chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. She set the chocolates on the desk next to the rose and the vase she had put the violets in. 

Together, they exited her ready room to start the morning on the bridge. Her crew was bustling as usual. To be honest it had been a dull week, but after all the excitement they had recently, Kathryn was glad for the down time. There was maintenance to be done and the crew were rotating on new shifts to get some down time. So for the next hour, Kathryn read reports in the Captain’s chair, tuning out the business of the bridge. 

That is until Harry Kim was at her elbow. He cleared his throat and hesitated, “Captain...” 

“What can I do for you, Ensign?” asked Kathryn. Noticing the nervous expression on his face, she added, “What did Lieutenant Paris do now?” 

“I’m right here!” came the exasperated call from the helm. Tom whirled around in his seat, throwing his hands in the air. The tension broke and Harry managed a short laugh. 

“As you were,” ordered Kathryn. Tom turned back to his helm, but not before giving Harry a wink. 

“Captain, I need to borrow your badge...and your pips...”

“Excuse me?” 

“Just for a few minutes,” he hastily said. “I just need to upgrade the badge!” 

“And my pips?” Kathryn raised an eyebrow. Harry stood firm under her gaze and reached out his open palm. 

Chakotay leaned over in his chair and whispered, “Don’t interrogate the poor kid. Just give him what he asked for...” 

It suddenly dawned on Kathryn that this was another part of Seven’s elaborate plan. Of course, she had no idea what in the world Harry would do with her badge or rank, but wordlessly she plucked the badge from her chest and allowed Chakotay to help her unpin the four pips from her collar. 

Eagerly, Harry hustled away without another word. Amused glances were being exchanged between her bridge crew and she swore she saw Tuvok give Harry a nod of approval as he left the bridge. Kathryn spend the next half hour wondering what in the stars everyone was up to when Harry returned, velvet box in hand. 

Wordlessly, he handed it to her before scurrying back to his post at Ops. Chakotay was staring at the blur of stars on the viewscreen now, purposely giving her a moment of privacy. Kathryn opened the box to reveal her comm badge and four shining pips staring back at her. She hadn’t seen them this polished since they were new, well before Voyager had entered the Delta Quadrant. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t take care of her hardware, but keeping them shining was the last thing on her mind during most of the journey. But here they were, good as new. The badge gleamed too, no residual fingerprints any more. She pinned it back on and nudged Chakotay to help her put the pips back on her collar. 

Harry cleared his throat from Ops and she turned in her chair to face him. With the slightest red in his cheeks he said, “I think you’ll find I took care of the problem you were having with your badge sticking.” 

“Very good, Ensign,” was all she could think to say. For the past two weeks, she had been complaining that her badge needed to be hit twice on occasion to connect to the computer. If they were in Starfleet space, the comm badges would be replaced regularly so this wouldn’t happen. 

The rest of the morning went on as normal, although now Kathryn was wondering what else could possibly happened. Lunchtime came and she made her way to the Mess Hall. There were a few crew members already enjoying lunch. However, she reached the replicators, a voice called out. 

“Captain! Your lunch is already ready for you.” Standing behind her was Icheb, proudly holding a tray. “Today the kitchen has prepared a vegetable and bean stew with a side of crusty bread.” 

Icheb, still learning about human cuisine seemed unsure of what he was saying, but a steaming bowl sat atop the tray and a slice of toasted french bread rested on a napkin next to it. The stew was reminiscent of one that she had grown up eating, although it was usually replicated if she remembered correctly. It was a favorite of her father. 

“Thank you, Icheb,” she said politely, taking the tray from him. He gave her a quick nod before turning on his heal to go back into the kitchen. Kathryn gave a small shake of her head in amusement. What a day this was turning out to be...

The stew was tasty, if a little heavy on beans and the bread was as crusty as Icheb had said. Still, it was a good lunch, one she had not been expecting. As she wiped up the last of the stew with her bread, Naomi Wildman slipped into the chair across from her. 

“Hello, Captain.” The girl had a broad smile on her face. 

“How are you, Naomi?” asked Kathryn, wondering what Seven could have put the child up to. 

“I have something for you,” replied Naomi with excitement. From her lap, hidden from Kathryn’s view, she produced a small stuffed bear. It was brown with a red bow around the neck and wasn’t much bigger than Naomi’s hands. She pushed it over for Kathryn to grab and then slipped off the chair and skipped out of the Mess Hall. 

The bear was soft and fit perfectly into Kathryn’s grasp. The little thing made her smile, right there in front of the other members of the crew in the Mess Hall. Most were grinning back at her and now Kathryn was certain that the entire ship was in on Seven’s escapade. 

She took the bear back to the bridge with her and said nothing when Chakotay tried to cover a laugh at the sight of it sitting on the arm of her chair. She had no idea what had possessed Seven, or rather Naomi, to give it to her, but she enjoyed the little stuff thing. It was silly, but sweet. 

Two hours later, Tuvok called her attention, “Captain. I believe it is time to report to your quarters.” 

“I’m on shift for another three hours, Tuvok.” 

“I will escort you to your quarters.” The answer was firm and when she looked behind her, he had left his post and was waiting by the turbolift doors. 

Everyone on the bridge seemed to be determined to stare at their consoles and not look directly at her. Well, she had played along all morning, why stop now? With a sigh, she pushed herself out of the Captain’s seat and walked towards the exit. 

“Forgetting something?” asked Chakotay, holding up the little bear. He was failing miserably at keeping his face neutral.

“You have the bridge, Commander.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Kathryn retrieved the bear with a roll of her eyes and then allowed Tuvok to escort her back to her quarters. “Tuvok, will you please tell me what is going on?”

“I have been sworn to the strictest of confidences.” He continued to look straight ahead. 

“I know Seven is behind all of this...but it’s interfering with my job now.” 

He didn’t answer until the reached her door and then he slowly turned and spoke, “I would never place you or this ship in any precarious situation. I assure you that this is in your best interest and should a situation arrive that would need your direct attention, I will be the first to summon you.” 

“Thank you, Tuvok.” He held up the Vulcan salute and then left her to enter her quarters. 

When the doors whooshed open, she could hear soothing music playing. The lights were dimmed and there was a large porcelain bathtub where her coffee table used to be. And Neelix was standing behind it, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Captain! Welcome to Neelix’s home spa treatment!” he greeted her with a grand motion of his arms.

“How...?” Kathryn glanced back at her closed door and then back at Neelix. 

“We were worried you may not have appreciated the intrusion. But I promise that I haven’t been in any of your personal belongings. I brought all my own things. Your table was the only thing removed.” He winked at her and then, like the showman he was, waved his hands dramatically and began by lifting a small bowl from the small table he had arranged next to the bath tub.“Today I have for you the most luxurious and moisturizing face cream that will leave you glowing and relieved.” 

Placing the bowl back down he reached for a bottle and wine glass also sitting on the table. Pouring the red liquid into in the glass, he said, “A top of the line red wine that comes from Earth, the French region, I believe. It is dry with a hint of blackberries and oak.” 

“And here,” he pulled a leather bound book from seemingly thin air, “Is your entertainment for the evening. A romance novel circa the twentieth century, for your enjoyment.” 

“All of this in what is called a ‘bathtub’.” Neelix motioned towards the tub with a sweep of his hand. “I made some adjustments to make it more comfortable. I have no idea how humans could stand sitting for long period of times with that shape. Seven wanted everything to be as historically accurate as possible, so we’ll just have to keep that secret to ourselves. The water will remain the most comfortable of temperatures for the human body and it has bubbles that give off the scent of lavender.” 

“Thank you?” Kathryn eyed the bathtub wearily and then back to Neelix. 

He had produced a plum colored robe and walked towards her. The silk was soft on her hands when she grasped the it. “I will leave you know. Just let the computer know if you need anything. Your next guest will be arriving at eighteen hundred hours to help you get ready for your dinner on the holosuite. The computer will give you a fifteen minute warning.” 

Neelix left with a wink and a smile, leaving Kathryn alone with the robe and bathtub. Self care like this wasn’t something she indulged in anymore. It made her a little uncomfortable at first, as she stripped off her uniform and put on the robe. 

A sip of wine helped relax her senses and she liberally applied Neelix’s face cream to her face. She figured that even if Neelix had somehow given her something that she was allergic to, the Doctor would be able to set it right. Once the face mask had been applied, she slipped off the robe and climbed into the tub. 

As she lowered her body into the perfectly warmed water, she found the modifications that Neelix had been talking about. Instead of the rounded bottom of the tub, she found a soft, almost cushiony chair, waiting for her to rest on. She sunk back against the porcelain with a sigh. 

After another sip of wine, she reached for the book. She hadn’t read it before, but it looked like something she would enjoy. It as written in the twentieth century, but appeared to take place in the eighteenth. Soon, she was entranced in the story, with nothing but the soothing music, warm water, and delicious wine to fill her mind. 

The computer chimed some time later, altering her that she needed to get out of the tub. There was a towel hanging from the edge of the tub that she used to dry off and then put the silky robe back on. The door chimed and she said enter without even asking who it was. 

To her surprise, B’Elanna burst through the door, a black garment bag slung over her shoulder. She took one look at Kathryn, frowned, and said, “What the hell do you have on your face?” 

Kathryn had completely forgotten about the face cream and hoped she wasn’t supposed to have removed it after a certain amount of time. “I’m not sure she admitted.” 

“Well, go wash it off while I get these out.” B’Elanna made a shooing motion while she walked over to Kathryn’s bed. Kathryn went into the bathroom to wash off the cream. To her relief, her face appeared to be fine. In fact, she felt light and refreshed. 

When she came back in, B’Elanna had laid two pieces of clothing on the bed. One was a dark green gown, with a lace pattern overlaid on the silken material on the chest. It was belted at the waist and floor length. The second was a light grey suit, with a silken green shirt beneath it that matched the dress. Both had obviously been tailored to her size. 

“I have no idea what Seven was thinking, putting me in charge of getting you dressed. So I got some opinions from the other women in the crew and we decided on these two. There is a bet going about whether you will pick the dress or the suit. I’m betting on the suit, so don’t let me down.” 

Both garments were beautiful, but B’Elanna was right, the suit was probably more her style. The dress was beautiful, but the thought of wearing it down to the holosuite for anyone to see made her uncomfortable. 

“I’ll wear the suit, but leave the dress.” Maybe later she could put it on just for Seven. 

B’Elanna clapped her hands together in triumph. “Alright, so Seven wanted this to be authentic, hence the real clothes, but I’m not a stylist. So I programmed the holodeck to do your hair and makeup when you enter. She’ll never know. And don’t worry, I am a firm believer that no one needs makeup, so it won’t be anything heavy.” 

If there was one person on this ship that Kathryn trusted wouldn’t overdo her hair or makeup, it was B’Elanna. “Thank you.”

“Alright, let’s get you into this thing. Wouldn’t want to keep the Borg waiting...” she grinned at her own joke and Kathryn rolled her eyes. It was a teasing that had been occurring since Kathryn and Seven had made their relationship public. 

The pants and shirt fit like a glove and B’Elanna helped her get the suit jacket on. B’Elanna stood back, admiring her work. “Huh. It does look good.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” replied Kathryn sarcastically. “But seriously, thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” B’Elanna straightened her collar and added, “Seriously. Let’s never mention this again.” 

“Deal.” 

The two women left the Captain’s quarters and headed toward the holosuite. There weren’t too many crewmembers in the corridors. Kathryn wondered if they had been instructed to make themselves scarce or if everyone was just busy. Waiting by the holosuite was Tom Paris, bottle in hand, leaning against the bulkhead. 

Tom let out a whistle when Kathryn and B’Elanna approached him and his wife punched him in the shoulder for it. Kathryn only rolled her eyes. “Is that bottle for me?” 

“The finest champagne I could replicate. I did a little magic with the replicator to get around the safety features, that that there is the real deal. Harry and I tried a dozen just to make sure you got the best one. It’s authentic as you can get this far into the delta quadrant.” Tom handed her the bottle with a wink. Then he slung his arm around B’Elanna’s shoulder. “My fair lady, would you escort me back to our quarters. I seem to have lost my way.”

“How much did you drink, you idiot?” B’Elanna grabbed ahold of Tom and as they walked away, she called over her shoulder, “Have a good evening, Captain.” 

“Go get the girl!” shouted Tom, encouragingly. He let out a hoot that was quickly shushed by his wife. 

Bottle in hand, smile on her face, Kathryn entered the simulation. She walked into what appeared to be a countryside vineyard of old Earth. A single table for two was set on a stone patio that had fairy lights strung up in the air. A pair of candles lit the table on a white table cloth. Long stemmed champagne glasses were paired with white china plates. 

“Hello, Kathryn.” Seven of Nine walked out of the vineyard across from Kathryn. She was dressed in a beautiful, shimmering full length red dress. The neckline dipped to reveal just enough of her chest to make Kathryn blush. It was held up by slender straps and blonde hair was curled on her shoulders. The color was gorgeous and Kathryn was sure that her jaw dropped. 

“Seven...you look...” Kathryn gripped the neck of the champagne bottle tighter as she tried to find the right words. “You are beautiful.”  

“I am partial to the dress,” replied Seven, looking down at herself. “It is impractical, but I believe it has the desired effect.” 

“All of this is beautiful,” said Kathryn as she approached the table. “Today was been wonderful. Quite surprising, but wonderful.” 

“Your suit fits you well. I find that my attraction to you is heightened in that outfit.” Kathryn allowed herself to blush under Seven’s gaze. Seven motioned for her to take a seat. 

Suddenly, the Doctor, dressed in a tuxedo appeared out of thin air. “May I take that bottle from you, Captain?” 

“I...yes...” Kathryn handed it over, surprised by his appearance. He deftly popped the cork and poured out the two glasses as the women seated themselves. 

“Tonight, I will be serving a lobster linguine. We will begin with a light salad to prime the palate and then we will move to the main course. A decadent chocolate cheesecake will be served for dessert.” He gave them a smile and then snapped his fingers and the salads appeared on the plate in front of them. With another snap, he had disappeared. 

“Seven, what is all of this?” asked Kathryn. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t understand.” 

“As you know, I have been studying Earth history to help reconnect with my humanity. I came across several holidays and traditions that have intrigued me. Some of them were based on religious or political movements of the time. I found one particularly of interest now that I am in a relationship with you. It is called ‘St. Valentine’s Day’. Have you heard of it?” 

A smile graced Kathryn’s face. “I have.” 

“I was confused by the history at first. There are conflicting thoughts on the origins of the holiday, but all seemed to be grim. However, it transformed into a day to celebrate lovers. When calendar dates were still being observed, it occurred annually on February fourteenth. I decided to make today Valentine’s Day for just the two of us.” Seven tilted her head to the side. “I thought it would be romantic.” 

“It is...” murmured Kathryn. She took another bite of salad. “I don’t know that much about the history of Valentine’s Day. I understood your poem this morning. I think it is a traditional Valentine.” 

“Yes. Roses and violets. Although, the name violets implies a purple color rather than blue, I did not correct it in order to continue the rhyme. I read that a dozen roses is a common gift, but a single red rose often implies more intimacy. Therefore, I provided a single red rose and a dozen violets.”  

“Chocolates are a traditional gift for lovers, even now. I can’t wait to eat the rest of them.” 

“I too am found of chocolates,” admitted Seven and Kathryn filed that information away for use at a later date. “Another traditional gift is jewelry. However, necklaces, bracelets, and rings are against the dress code. And you do not wear any off duty.” 

“So you had my pips and badge cleaned.” Her heartbeat quickened. Seven had thought all of this through. It really was romantic. Kathryn wasn’t sure she could love the woman more, but somehow, she still had the ability to surprise her. 

“Another common gift was stuffed animals. The Doctor explained that these are not taxidermized animals, but fluff stuffed fake figures. They are more commonly used by children for comfort. A ‘teddy bear’ is a traditional stuffed animal.” 

“It was cute,” laughed Kathryn and to her pleasure, she saw Seven’s eyes light up at her reaction. “The spa was nice, too.” 

“I am pleased that you enjoyed it.” Seven gave her a natural smile. Goodness, she was so beautiful, especially over candlelight. 

The Doctor cleared his throat to announce his return. He snapped his fingers and announced, “Dinner is served.” 

The salad plates disappeared and were replaced by a delicious looking pasta dish, topped with pieces of lobster. Breadsticks appeared in the middle of the table. Seven motioned to the food and explained, “Many references sourced traditional pasta from the Italian region of Earth was a common Valentine’s meal. Others reported that a home cooked meal that was nostalgic was also a good choice.” 

“So you made my father’s favorite stew.” 

Seven nodded. “You don’t have many favorites, but you talk about your family so often. I thought it would be the correct touch.” 

“It was perfect.” Kathryn reached across the table to take Seven’s hand in her own. “All of it was perfect.” 

“I believe the correct response would be that you are perfect. But I think that is incorrect. Everyone has flaws. It is in our nature.” Seven gave her hand a squeeze. “But I feel like you deserve to be treated with perfection, because I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Seven.” The candlelight twinkled in their eyes. 

“We should engage in eating this meal. My research says it will be pleasing to the palate,” added Seven with a tiny smirk. Kathryn laughed and picked up her fork to dig into the pasta. 

Seven was right, it was delicious. And so was the slice of cheesecake that they shared for dessert. When they were finished, the Doctor appeared again. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner tonight. If you will stand please, I will delete the table and leave you two ladies to enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

Both Kathryn and Seven rose to their feet. The Doctor snapped his fingers and the table disappeared. He gave them both a little bow and then snapped himself out of the simulation. Upon his departure, music starting playing. Soft, but with a dancing rhythm. Seven offered her hand and Kathryn accepted. 

The two began dancing, slowly turning on the stone patio together, beneath the moonlight and the tiny string of lights above them. Kathryn pulled Seven’s thin body tightly against her own. She dropped her face to press their cheeks together, breathing in the scent that was Seven. 

Kathryn loved being this close to Seven. They fit together so well. It was something that Kathryn had never experienced with anyone else. She loved the feel of Seven’s body against her own. 

“I am pleased that you are my Valentine,” whispered Seven in her ear. Kathryn smiled and pressed a kiss to Seven’s collarbone. 

Then she pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her lover. Gently, Kathryn raised her hand from Seven’s hip to cup her face. Then she firmly pressed their lips together. Beneath the moonlight, Kathryn kissed her Valentine. 

[androgynousblackbox]

Willing participant (NSFW, Gore, Among Us)

Impostor had killed many humans before, but never one quite like that one. One that wanted him to feel his teeth sink into them and that was adding an interesting flavor to his meal. Warning: body horror, gore.

He knew exactly what kind of risk there could potentially be by boarding the ship. Stories about alien shapeshifter that enjoyed causing chaos wherever they could have been spread around so much that everyone warned him about it before he signed up his name and then some more afterwards. None of them knew that was exactly why he signed in the first place. And why should they? He didn’t want to ge tinto their private matter and they certainly shouldn’t into his. Being inmortal and a lot more years that he looked was a struggle. One had to keep thinking up new ways to keep themselves entertained, to make the infinite road existence one worth walking over. He had tried everything he could think of, but on the way to get his life terminated by a carnivorous plant on some lonely planet that no reasonable person would enter voluntarely, he discovered something interesting. The excitement of death or extreme pain was a better rush than anything he had tried before. As he saw the plant was enjoying itself with some poor beast that found it’s way to his side of the planet, he felt... some kind of way he couldn’t completely explain, but it was very intense and he knew, right there and then, addictive. He did let himself be eaten. Over and over again, his body was turned to shread and his blood painted the floor. In more than one ocassion his head was severed and he could see his own spine dangling under him for a mere seconds before he was out. The process of regenerating even from a simple drop was the same as always, like waking up from a nap, but the death was a furious awakening that made all his year of life seem like a walking simulator with no good story to justify itself. But eventually someone else came and gunshot down the flower to get some substance from it that apparently was very expensive on the universal black market. He only found out about it after coming back and seeing his unknowing lover destroyed, the marks of some boots coming and going. He mourned for the poor flower that was only fending for itself, but soon it was time to keep going. Maybe it was for the best in the end. The universe was a vast, vast place and he had so many options to chose from. Why limit himself to one? When he boarded up the ship, where it was almost completely sure someone was not who they said they were, he was almost trembling with emotion. Someone there wanted to kill and they had no idea someone there wanted to die on a passionate storm of guts and blood, of undying passion for violence and total helplessness. Oh, it was going to be so great! He didn’t discovered the first body, someone else did, and that was a dissapointment for him. He didn’t even got to see how the alien did it! Did they got perforated by some thick, long organ the rest of the crew didn’t had? Were their mind violated by some slippery tentacles thrusting through their helmets? Did they lost their legs? Their arms? Their head? Was it quick? Was it painfully, frustratingly, achingly, carefully slow? Knowing they had already disposed of their body on the incinerator before calling to a meeting felt like a slap on the face. How dared they treat a potential work of art with such disrespect? Luckily or not, he was on the opposite side of the ship when it happened and he had various witnesses corroborating it for him, so he wasn’t even a suspect. No one was that first time around and that only made it more annoying. If at least there was someone he could follow them and see what they were up to, but apparently everyone was doing what they should and there was no notice of anything strange. Two more bodies later, he could barely contain himself. It wasn’t fair! He was there with all his members ready to be separated from his torso and his mouth wishing to chock on his own blood, and what did that silly alien do? Go after others that wouldn’t appreciate it! It was enfuriating.

But as he was stomping his way through a corridor, he could feel something was different. The lights have gone out and he was on his way to go turn them up when he knew, he knew somehow that he wasn’t alone there. He could have turned, but on the darkness it would have meant nothing unless he got them very close and not even that, because unless they did anything they would only look any other crewmate. And yet, something in his gut seemed to twist, his heart started to pound quickly and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was him. He would never be able to explain how he figured out, but he was sure of it. “Oh, shoot, the light went off again!” sighed, so desperate for him to come closer, to do what they both knew exactly could happen there, quickly, please. “But the way it’s so long! I almost don’t even want to go there. Hey, buddy, it would be a shame if that impostor came around right now, right? Mmm, oh, damn, I think I let a cable fall to the ground. I hope nothing happens while I go to pick it up, ha ha!”

He bend over and shook his ass in front of the piercing eyes he could feel on him to pick nothing. Just do something already! Before he lose control. There was a sound. A step, a completely ordinary one. Then the next thing he knew something was piercing through his behind until coming out his mouth, destroying all organs on his wake and he moaned through a tentacle that wiggled in front of his nose. His legs couldn’t hold him any longer, but it was okay because he was holding him instead and couldn’t help but to hug him with the last thread of his strenght as he felt his consciouness slipping away.

He revived before anyone could discover his body and the next meeting was because they found out another one. No one there seemed surprised to see him walking through the door, but as soon he made sure he was on a space the other weren’t going since there wasn’t any task on his side, he turned to see the crewmate on a white suit following behind. “Oh, you couldn’t stay away either, did you?” said, resting against a wall. “Honey, the first one was so quick, I barely had time to feel anything. How about this time you take it easy, mmm? No one will bother us here if that is what you are afraid us.”

-- Impostor stared at him in absolute silence. He thought maybe it was a ghost, a holograms or some kind of alucination coming to the meeting room, but then everyone else acted like normal try to find him out for the other body and he had no other option but to follow along, blaming someone else that wasn’t lying but got so nervous that sounded like lying anyway so they expelled from the ship. Now they were barely a handful onboard and this guy… He had no idea what this guy was doing. Did he thought he was there for some kind of gross human activity?

Impostor knew about those acts and the disgust that inspired him were only comparable to the absolute confusion as to why human keep doing it. It was all so sticky and gross and literally nothing else but rubbing parts togehter, sometimes piercing into holes on the body, like a poor imitation of what his species could do but that was somehow pleasurable for their anatomies. The thought of doing any of that almost made him vomit the last head he ate, but more than that, he was enraged for the suggestion from this single man just on a principle matter. Did he thought this was his little cruise of adventures or something? At least the others had the decency of trying to do their task and keep everything working, but this one wouldn’t even attempt to play the part and instead was saying nonsense while adding more insult to injury by not having the courtesy of staying dead. Annoyed as he was, he walked towards the other and he could hear him contain his breath. Was a game everything for him? Didn’t he understood what just happened? What could easily happen to him again so easily? As he got closer, he started to reveal his true mouth: a long, deep line opening on the center of his abdomen as he slowly revealed his teeth.

He was waiting for the terror, for the screams or begging that had plagued each one of his executions, as predictable as all humans were. But instead of any of that, he could see the face of crewmate turning red inside his helmet and squishing his legs togther as he put his hand over his chest, but not on any matter that looked defensive or scared. “You are hungry, aren’t you, babe?” said with a gaspy voice and pressed a button under his helmet to start opening up the suit, revealing a almost transparent shirt. “Why don’t you have a bite, handsome? If you just wait between each plate, I can give you an entire buffet. So much better than go picking out those other who don’t even care about you like I do, don’t you think? Come on, you know you want to.” It was… strange chomping down on him. It wasn’t just that he didn’t fight at all not even when he was still clearly alive, but as long he still had a breath he kept saying those strange phrases that he knew what they meant, he knew what they were but still couldn’t understand, all the while emiting sounds so similar to those humans made during their gross reproductive activities that he wondered if was doing something wrong. At some point the crewmate, bleeding from the mouth, weak and about to pass out, extended a hand to him to leave a red print of hi slip over his helmet. He didn’t realized he did it until later, but he didn’t ate the head and when to see again his expression, discovered a pleasant and peaceful smile like none other of his prey ever had before. Like no one ever had in front of him in fact. He swallowed the internal organs and waited taking a couple of steps behind. If it was true what that human said, if his own mind didn’t played games with him after being alone for so long in the universe, then he had an entire buffet waiting for him and on top of that he wouldn’t even need to wait any boring meeting for it. A buffet completely willing to surrender to him, to keep serving him his favourite plates if he as so much asked for them. Impostor touched upon the bloody kiss left on his face as a littl of drool was coming out his real mouth.