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library-ghoulette · 13 days

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My Path Serpentine (Ministry librarian series) - Chapter 1/?

Pairing: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x Original Female Character

Rating: This chapter is gen, later chapters will be mature to explicit

Tags: Third person POV, original female character, slow burn, workplace romance, Satanic nuns, libraries

Words: 1916

Summary: Sister Beatrice Laurence has spent her entire life seeking knowledge and belonging, and she thinks that she has found them both in the modest Satanic church where she works as a library assistant. But a job announcement from Ministry headquarters stirs her ambitions for more, and places her in the path of Papa Emeritus IV.

A/N: I intended to write some no-frills library smut, but it got away from me almost immediately. There will be smut in future chapters, I promise. But for now, let us meet our intrepid heroine and learn of her professional frustrations, and an intimidating yet tantalizing opportunity for power...

ao3 link

divider by @gothdaddyissues

Winter - Unholy Church of the Infernal Heart - The Library

"Sister Beatrice?"

At the sound of her name, Sister Beatrice Laurence's head pops up from behind the stack of books on the desk. Her aspect is harried, veil riding back to reveal her blonde bangs, her round, silver-framed glasses slipping down her nose from where she has been looking down at the book cart where she's alphabetizing the check-ins to be reshelved. She pushes her glasses back into place and attempts a smile—a genuine one, in contrast to the expression Sister Grace usually turns on her, which has a hollow quality and never quite reaches her eyes and makes Beatrice feel as though she is always about to get a nasty surprise.

"Yes, Sister Grace?" Her voice carries a note of hesitation, born of her experience with her supervisor's tendency to find fault with even the smallest tasks Beatrice completes. The older woman loves nothing more than to question all of her underlings' competency, but Beatrice seems to be her favorite target. It's never a good thing when Sister Grace comes out of her office.

"Father Kirk just called. He wants to see you." Before Beatrice can ask if she should finish her work first, Sister Grace cuts her off: "I'll take it from here. You're dismissed for the day."

Beatrice's palms are clammy as she retrieves her bag and coat from the tiny break room that always smells like burnt coffee, and as she heads out of the library with a bright "have a good night!" that Sister Grace doesn't return. She pushes out of the front doors of the library into a cold and dreary February afternoon and hurries across campus to the building that houses clergy offices. The lowering sky hangs heavy and ominous with clouds that spit the occasional hard flecks of something that vaguely resembles snow. It's not the kind of day that portends good news.

When she reaches Father Kirk's office, the door is closed. She straightens her veil nervously, wipes her hands on her coat, and knocks three times.

"Come in! Ah, Sister Beatrice!" Father Kirk stands up behind his desk as she enters. He's heavy-set, with close-cropped dark hair just starting to go grey at the temples and small, bright eyes, dressed in his customary black slacks and button-down, with a black clerical collar. He's not much older than Beatrice herself, and has always felt more like a big brother to her than some of the older, sterner priests in the Satanic church. Even so, being summoned to his office has her stomach twisting with nerves.

"Hi, Father Kirk! Sister Grace said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes, come in. Have a seat. And uh, close the door, please."

Beatrice settles herself in the brown leather visitor's chair with hobnail trim in front of Father Kirk's desk. She smiles to see the assortment of toys and miniatures that clutter the space around his computer, the rubber duckie with devil horns and the rainbow-colored Baphomet figurine a friendly contrast to the rest of the drab administrative decor that came standard.

Father Kirk sits down again and regards Beatrice in thoughtful silence for a moment, elbows resting on his desk, fingers steepled, in a move that does nothing to assuage her anxiety. Then he asks, "Beatrice, where do you see yourself in five years?"

It's so corporate HR, so job interview, that it flummoxes her. "I- Here, I guess," she stammers, gathering her composure to summon a more dignified answer. "I want to be wherever I can best serve the will of our Dark Lord."

Father Kirk sighs. "Humility is not a virtue in our faith, Sister Beatrice. So please. Do me a favor and cut the bullshit."

From someone else, the words might sound harsh, but when Father Kirk says them, they carry no hostility, just the rough-hewn kindness of someone who knows when you're wasting everyone's time by not being as straightforward as he always is, and as he always wants everyone else to be, as well.

"What did you tell me when you first petitioned to join our order?" he asks.

Though a handful of years have passed since then, Sister Beatrice remembers that day clearly. "I said that I wanted to learn everything there was to know," she recalls. "And that I wanted to be a conduit for the word of Lucifer, for His knowledge and the freedom it brings, to all who seek it."

Father Kirk nods. "And do you feel that you are fulfilling that role here, in our parish?"

"I enjoy the work that I do in the library, Father," she says, choosing her words carefully. "And I do my best to fulfill my calling, in all the opportunities that are afforded to me here."

There, that was diplomatic enough. She thinks of the opportunities afforded to her, the ones that Sister Grace condescends to hand out. Shelving books and basic circulation tasks, mostly. Answering reference questions as quietly as possible so that Sister Grace doesn't eavesdrop and nitpick how she handled them. Begging for more responsibilities, only to be given the simplest copy cataloging—that Sister Grace always double-checks for imagined errors when she deigns to allow Beatrice to do it at all.

"And are you happy with those opportunities, Sister Beatrice?" It feels like Father Kirk is reading her mind.

There's no use lying: "I know that I could be doing more. I want to be doing more."

Father Kirk nods, looking pleased at Beatrice's candor. "I agree," he says. "You could be doing more."

There's a beat, and Beatrice feels compelled to fill it. "Is there… another position opening at the library?" she asks. There have been times when she has imagined Sister Grace quitting, or retiring, or—on her most frustrating days—running afoul of a negligent driver who fails to stop at crosswalks. Maybe her fantasies are coming true? Is she getting a promotion?

But Father Kirk laughs ruefully. "Not at our library, no. However—" He spins his chair around to grab an envelope from the mail tray on the shelf behind his desk, then sets it on the blotter between them. "I want you to look at this."

Beatrice picks up the envelope. It's made of heavy, creamy paper, and it feels important and expensive in her hand. The return address identifies its origin: "Ministry headquarters?"

She looks up to find Father Kirk regarding her seriously. "Read it."

She turns the envelope over, and, seeing that it has already been slit open neatly, she extracts the paper inside. Unfolding it, she reads:

[MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY]

We wish to inform you that the position of Ministry Head Librarian is vacant. This position oversees daily operations of the library and archive at Ministry headquarters. Qualified applicants will possess thorough knowledge of circulation and reference, collection development, cataloging, and resource sharing. Supervisory experience strongly preferred. MLIS or equivalent degree from accredited institution required. All interested parties should submit completed application and letter of reference to…

Beatrice skims over the address to the bottom of the letter. It is signed, Sister Imperator. She turns the paper over, seeking answers, but the back is blank.

Her head feels strangely woozy, and she finds that she can't meet Father Kirk's eyes. "I- I don't understand."

"I think you do understand, Sister Beatrice."

"But this job—" It's my dream job, a voice in her head supplies, who do I have to kill to get it? But aloud, she says, "I- There's no way they would give it to me."

"Why not?" Father Kirk asks, and when she opens her mouth to protest, to list all of her deficiencies, real or imagined, he cuts her off: "You have the required degree. You have an entire portfolio of projects and internships. If you hadn't taken your vows, you would undoubtedly be running your own library by now."

It was likely true—she had been on that trajectory when she left her role as the assistant branch manager at a public library to dedicate herself fully to her dark faith, leaving her secular life behind.

"But I haven't taken my final vows yet." She has moved through her postulancy and novitiate periods, and she took her temporary vows over a year ago. She has been looking forward to professing her solemn vows, to the feelings of stability and permanence that she imagines doing so will bring. Feelings she has longed for her entire life, that she has searched for in vain.

"You can transfer and take your vows at the Ministry when you get the job." Father Kirk shrugs. "It's not common to move to a different diocese, as you know. But it can be done, especially under extenuating circumstances. I'll do my best to ensure that you don't have to restart your novitiate."

It would be worth it, though, that ambitious, greedy voice in her head says. Even if I did have to restart. Even if I had to do anything.

She allows herself a brief vision of herself in the role. Living in the beautiful old abbey she has seen photos of online but has never visited. Surrounded by the most powerful and influential members of the church. Being in charge of her own library; and not just any library, but the very heart of Satanic scholarship. Having power, real and tangible. No one to stand in her way and hint that maybe the Dewey Decimal System is just a bit out of her league, doesn't she think?

"When I get the job?" she asks.

"Yes, when. I wouldn't be suggesting this to you if I didn't think you had a chance—and a very good one, at that. You are the perfect candidate. They would be fools not to hire you."

"It's so far away." Sister Beatrice looks at the letter again, tracing and retracing the lines of the Ministry letterhead. Tears prick her eyes. "I would have to move," she says.

Father Kirk reaches across the desk and places a warm, reassuring hand on hers. "And you will be missed. You have been a dark blessing on this parish from the moment you entered, my dear. One of the most gifted Sisters we have ever admitted." He squeezes her hand, prompting her to meet his gaze. "And that is why I want you to apply for this job. You are destined for so much more than what is possible here. It would be cruel to keep you."

He releases her then, and as though a spell has been broken, she finally folds the letter again and places it back in the envelope.

"Will you at least consider it?" Father Kirk asks. "For me. Not as your priest, or your boss, but as your friend?"

Beatrice nods. "I'll consider it."

When she leaves his office, Father Kirk sends the envelope with her, and it weighs heavily on her the entire night. It seems to whisper to from her from her bag during vespers, and as she eats her dinner in the church cafeteria, as she showers and pulls on her nightgown, and as she lies in bed vainly trying to read a dark romance novel that would normally hold her attention easily.

Sighing with resignation, she sets her book aside and takes up the envelope again. She slides the job announcement out with the anticipation of someone rereading a love letter. She reads it again and again and again.

And she considers.

#lib ghoulette writes #my writing #ghost band fanfic #papa emeritus iv fanfic

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koraki-grimoire · 3 years

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Witchcraft in Hellenismos

Disclaimer: This post is non-exhaustive, and though I'll try to equally spread my focus, it will inevitably lean towards the kinds of magik I personally practice.

Often, in modern pagan circles, people are under the impression that Ancient Hellenismos either didn't have or despised witchcraft. This is largely from three causes. The first is simply misreading, or failing to come across witchcraft in the Hellenism they research. Second is only reading about or adhering to branches that didn't like witchcraft (usually due to it being perceived as hubristic) and therefore assuming that's the most popular opinion. Finally, sometimes people apply their assumptions based on Christian and Germanic culture to Hellenismos, and assume it carries the same attitudes.

In actuality, the view of witchcraft was historically more neutral. Witches weren't typically seen as hags, but maidens, respectable men, priests, and more. It should also be noted that, frankly, "witch" is a slightly tonally incorrect translation usually applied to the word "pharmakis."

For historical attitudes towards witches, we can read works surrounding mainly Medea and Kirke, as well as Hekate if we go past pharmakeia.

But pharmakeia and nekromankia (necromancy) are far from the only forms of witchcraft or magik--which in Ancient Greek would be "mageia" or "goeteia" depending on time and place, but will simply be called "magik" here.

So, with that very long introduction, let's get into types of magik.

Pharmakeia - Herbal Sorcery, Witchcraft

Pharmakeia is perhaps the most recognizable form of magik in historical Hellenismos. As mentioned, it was associated with the heroine Medea, as well as the goddess/nymph/hero (it's complicated) Kirke. This was magik performed using the aid of herbs, and both historically and now blends magik and science. It includes brewing poisons, casting curses, potionmaking, transmutation, and more. Kirke, famously, used pharmakeia to transform men into swine, whereas Medea tended towards poisoning, but both had variety in their craft.

Generally, when pharmakeia is translated, it's done very broadly compared to other kinds of magik. For example, pharmakeia is usually translated, especially in the Odyssey, to "witchcraft" or "sorcery." Pharmakis--the word for a practitioner of pharmakeia--is usually translated to "witch." This often leads to misconceptions of witchcraft in Hellenismos being specifically oriented around herbs and transmutation, when that's only a small piece of the picture.

Nekromankia/Nekromanteia - Necromancy

Nekromankia is far more famous now in its Anglicized pop-culture form, but it was most certainly present in Hellenismos. It's important to clarify that in Ancient Hellas, nekromankia was magik pertaining to the dead, not things such as zombies and raising the dead. In Hellenismos, the maintenance of good relationships between the dead and the living is of great importance. There were plenty of festivals devoted to placating and celebrating the dead--not to mention the monthly Attic holiday Hekate's Deipnon, devoted to honoring Hekate, goddess of nekromankia. So, unsurprisingly, there were witches who gravitated towards this as a craft.

Multiple Hellenic deities were associated with nekromankia, the most notable of which being Hekate, but also Persephone. Though, of course, any khthonic deity--especially khthonic theoi who also had non-khthonic aspects--were relevant, such as Haides or Hermes. A practitioner of nekromankia would be referred to as a nekromanteías.

Manteia - Divination, Oracles

It should be noted that manteia is heavily contested as being a form of witchcraft or even magik in Hellenismos, but it certainly meets the qualifications. The main reason this debate exists is controversy around magik in Hellenismos in general, since as most Hellenists know manteia is so central to so much of our religion, and those who dislike magik are insulted by it being considered that. Additionally, the definition of magik is constantly in flux--it's debated in modern magik circles, and it's even harder to apply a definition we can hardly agree on to an ancient culture with its own independent definitions.

Manteia is, most simply, the power to give prophecies, divination, and the use of oracles. It's the power of the Pythia (Delphic Oracle), it's in the Olympian Alphabet Oracle, it's every single seer and prophecy and divinatory method known to us.

Someone who practices manteia is called a mantis (usually translated as "soothsayer" or "diviner") or a khresmologos ("oracle"), depending on station.

Heliomanteia - Solar Magik

Heliomanteia is hard to find detailed historical information on, but most simply, it's magikal invocation of the sun. This is generally done by attempting to harness the power of the sun, or by requesting the aid of solar deities (namely, Helios).

Interestingly, Helios had many associations with witchcraft and warding off evil. It could be assumed that, due to the qualities attributed to Helios, heliomanteia would be best used to reveal truth, ward off evil, harness the power of fire, promote life, and similar.

Presumably, a practitioner of heliomanteia is a heliomantis.

Goeteia - Magik, Charms

Goeteia (in modern times "goetia") is a term for magik that fell out of style for general magik around the 5th century BC in favor of mageia. It, additionally, was shoehorned into a dichotomy of theurgy (divine, "professional," and virtuous magik) and goeteia (low, malicious, and fraudulent magik). This was largely due to political and social overhaul. The name became associated with fraudulent and harmful magik, and talk of goeteia in Ancient Hellas is a major source most anti-witch Hellenists use.

The goes (practitioner of goetia) was maligned, seen as hubristic and either trying to go against the power of the gods or intending to scam others. Plato famously portrayed them as malicious frauds, and he was not alone. Since the term "goes" is generally translated as "witch," it's not a leap to figure out why this lead to a lot of anti-witch Hellenists.

However, before this (and technically after), "goeteia" simply meant magic, charms, and similar. As a unique practice, and not simply an umbrella term for witchcraft, it can be considered channeling, a relative of nekromankia, or baneful magik, depending how much one leans into the later definition.

Theourgía - Deity Work, Divine Magik

Theourgia (in modern times "theurgy") quite literally translates to "deity work" or "god(s) working." It is ritual, sometimes magik, done with the intent of invoking one or more of the theoi. This was the ritual magik often performed by priests. In fact, it could be considered the mainstream magik of Ancient Hellas--assuming, of course, that one considers it magik.

It's not only historic magik that was central to the religion, but sets historical precedent for the controversial phrase "deity work." The existence of theurgy as the "higher form" of magik in Ancient Hellas is singlehandedly enough evidence to prove the phrase is not and would not be considered inherently hubristic. It should be noted that this form isn't inherently superior, but if you asked Plato, he would disagree.

There are certainly more forms of mageia in Ancient Hellas--For example, I skipped over amulets (periapta), which were almost incontestably the most common magik in a lot of Ancient Hellas, since they could technically fit under some other crafts and because they're the easiest to research on your own. It's a similar case with potions, too.

One important takeaway is the hard line between magik, religion, and science is a fairly recent invention. Pharmakeia could act as medicine, not just sorcery. Many potions were also medication. Frankly, the more women were involved, the more practical it tended to be, with 'spells' often being genuine aids to childbirth and/or birth control. This didn't make them any less magikal, and the magik doesn't make it less real.

And I hope I made it very, very clear, but witchcraft has always been in Hellenismos, and isn't inherently hubristic. That is a myth, and is rooted often in historical (and modern) classism, misogyny, xenophobia, or similar. Always consider your source's incentive to stigmatize before discounting all Hellenic witches.

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Dusted Mid-Year Round-Up: Part 2, Dr. Pete Larson to Young Slo-Be

James Brandon Lewis

The mid-year exchange continues with the second half of the alphabet and another round of Dusted writers reviewing other people’s favorite records. Today’s selection runs the gamut from Afro-beat to hip hop to experimental music and includes some of this year’s best jazz records. Check out part one if you missed it yesterday.

Dr. Pete Larson and His Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band — Damballah (Dagoretti Records)

Damballah by Dr. Pete Larson and his Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band

Who Picked it? Mason Jones

Did we review it? No, but Jennifer Kelly said about his previous record, “It’s authentic not to some musicological conception of what nyatiti music should sound like, but to the instincts and proclivities of the musicians involved.”

Bryon Hayes’ take:

Judging from Jenny’s review, Dr. Pete Larson hasn’t really changed his modus operandi much since last year’s self-titled release. Well, he has appeared to have dropped vocalist Kat Steih and drummer Tom Hohman, who aren’t credited with an appearance on Damballah. Sonically, this album feels more polished than its predecessor. There’s a richness that was lacking before, a sense of clarity that Larson seems to have added here. He still hypnotizes with his nyatiti but doesn’t lose himself behind the other players. That sense of mesmerizing repetition of short passages on the resonant lute-like instrument is what sets the music of the Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band apart from other rock groups who play in the psychedelic vein. It’s easy to get lost in the intricate plucking patterns as the guitars and synths swirl about. The rhythms bounce cleverly against those created by the percussion, anchoring the songs to solid ground. Balancing the airy and the earthy, Dr. Peter Larson and His Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band create a cosmic commotion perfect for contemplation.

James Brandon Lewis / Red Lily Quintet — Jesup Wagon (TAO Forms)

Jesup Wagon by James Brandon Lewis / Red Lily Quintet

Who recommended it? Derek Taylor

Did we review it? Yes, Derek said, “’Fallen Flowers’ and ‘Seer’ contain sections of almost telepathic convergence, the former and the closing ‘Chemurgy’ culminating in Lewis’ spoken words inculcating the import of his subject.”

Tim Clarke’s take:

Tenor saxophonist and composer James Brandon Lewis demonstrates his control of the instrument in the opening moments of Jesup Wagon’s title track. Before his Red Lily Quintet bandmates join the fray, he alternates between hushed ululations and full-blooded honks, inviting the listener to lean in conspiratorially. Once the rest of the band fire up, cornet player Kirk Knuffke, bassist William Parker, cellist Chris Hoffman and drummer Chad Taylor lock into a loose, muscular shuffle. Their collective chemistry is immediately evident, and each player has the opportunity to shine across this diverse set’s 50-minute runtime. I’m particularly drawn to the rapid-fire rhythmic runs on “Lowlands of Sorrow,” the gorgeous cello on “Arachis,” and the spacious, mbira-laced “Seer.” There’s something about the mournful horn melody of the final piece, “Chemurgy,” that sends me back to first hearing Ornette Coleman’s “Lonely Woman” — and, just like that, I’m excited about the prospect of exploring jazz again, for the first time in a long time. Great pick, Derek.

Roscoe Mitchell & Mike Reed — The Ritual And The Dance (Astral Spirits)

the Ritual and the Dance by Roscoe Mitchell & Mike Reed

Who recommended it? Derek Taylor

Did we review it? Yes, Derek wrote, “Roscoe Mitchell remains an improvisational force to be reckoned with.”

Andrew Forell’s take:

For 17-plus minutes, Roscoe Mitchell solos on his soprano with barely a pause, the rush of notes powered by circular breathing, as drummer Mike Reed’s controlled clatter counterpoints Mitchell’s exploration of his instrument’s range and tonal qualities in what sounds like a summation of his long career at the outer edge of jazz. It‘s an extraordinary beginning to this performance, recorded live in 2015. On first listen it sounds chaotic, but shapes emerge in Mitchell’s sound, and Reed’s combination of density and silence complements, punctuates and supports in equal measure. After an incisive solo workout from Reed combining clanging metal and rolling toms, Mitchell swaps to tenor and the pace changes. Longer, slower notes, a rougher, reed heavy tone and a lighter touch from Reed. Having not closely followed Mitchell’s work since his days in The Art Ensemble Of Chicago, this performance was a revelation and will have me searching back through his catalog.

The Notwist — Vertigo Days (Morr Music)

Vertigo Days by The Notwist

Who recommended it? Tim Clarke

Did we review it? Yes, Tim said, “The Notwist really know how to structure a front-to-back listening experience, and this is emphatically a work of art best appreciated as a whole.”

Arthur Krumins’ take:

In his review of Vertigo Days, Tim Clarke highlights the “multiple layers of drifting, shifting instrumentation.” It is an album that seems unbound by adherence to a set instrument lineup, and it moves quickly between moods both frenetic and contemplative. However, due to a careful mixing and an unforced approach to genre expectations, it is a surprising and varied listen that bears repeated scrutiny. The touchstones of the sound are at times the motorik beat of krautrock, at others the ethereal indie pop of their melodies and the quality of their singing. It feels like the perfect quirky coffee shop album, just out there enough to create a vibe, but tactful enough to take you along for the ride.

Dorothea Paas — Anything Can’t Happen (Telephone Explosion)

Anything Can't Happen by Dorothea Paas

Who picked it? Arthur Krumins.

Did we review it? No.

Eric McDowell’s take:

In one sense, it’s fair to say that Dorothea Paas’s debut album opens with a false start: A single note sounded and then retreated from, fingers sliding up and down the fretboard with the diffidence of a throat clearing. Yet what gesture could more perfectly introduce an album so marked by uncertainty, vulnerability, and naked self-assessment?

If Anything Can’t Happen is an open wound, it’s a wound Paas willingly opens: “I’m not lonely now / Doing all the things I want to and working on my mind / Sorting through old thoughts.” That doesn’t make the pain any less real — though it does make it more complex. “It’s so hard to trust again / When you can’t even trust yourself,” Paas sings on the utterly compelling title track, her gaze aiming both inward and outward. Elsewhere she admits: “I long for a body closer to mine / But I don’t want to seek, I just want to find.” Instrumentally, Paas and her bandmates manage to temper an inclination toward static brooding with propulsive forward motion, a balance that suits the difficult truth — or better yet, difficult truce — the album arrives at in the climactic “Frozen Window”: “How can I open to love again, like a plant searches for light through a frozen window? / Can I be loved, or is it all about control? / I will never know until I start again.” In the spirit of starting again, Anything Can’t Happen ends with a doubling down on the opening prelude, reprising and extending it — no false start to be found.

Dominic Pifarely Quartet — Nocturnes (Clean Feed)

Nocturnes by Dominique Pifarély Quartet

Who recommended it? Jason Bivins

Did we review it? No

Derek Taylor’s take:

Pifarely and I actually go way back in my listening life, specifically to Acoustic Quartet, an album the French violinist made for ECM as a co-leader with countryman clarinetist Louis Sclavis in 1994. Thirty-something at the time, his vehicle for that venture was an improvising chamber ensemble merging classical instrumentation and extended techniques with jazz and folk derived influences. The results, playful and often exhilaratingly acrobatic, benefited greatly from austere ECM house acoustics. Nearly three decades distant, Nocturnes is a different creature, delicate and darker hued in plumage and less enamored of melody, harmony and rhythm, at least along conventional measures. Drones and other textures are regular elements of the interplay between the leader’s strings, the piano of Antonin Rayon and the sparse braiding and shadings of bassist Bruno Chevillon and drummer Francois Merville. Duos also determine direction, particular on the series of titular miniatures that are as much about space as they are centered in sound. It’s delightful to get reacquainted after so much time apart.

The Reds Pinks & Purples — Uncommon Weather (Slumberland/Tough Love)

Uncommon Weather by The Reds, Pinks & Purples

Who picked it? Jennifer Kelly

Did we review it? Yes, Jennifer said, “Uncommon Weather is undoubtedly the best of the Reds, Pinks & Purples discs so far, an album that is damned near perfect without seeming to try very hard.”

Bill Meyer’s take:

Sometimes a record hits you where you live. Glenn Donaldson’s too polite to do you any harm, but he not only knows where you live, he knows your twin homes away from home, the record store and the club where you measure your night by how many bands’ sets separate you from last call. He knows the gushing merch-table mooches and the old crushes that casually bring the regulars down, and he also knows how to make records just like the ones that these folks have been listening to since they started making dubious choices. Uncommon Weather sounds like a deeply skilled recreation of early, less chops-heavy Bats, and if that description makes sense to you, so will this record.

claire rousay — A Softer Focus (American Dreams Records)

a softer focus by Claire Rousay

Who picked it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? Yes, Bryon Hayes wrote, “These field recordings of the mundane, when coupled with the radiance of the musical elements, are magical.”

Ian Mathers’ take:

In a weird way (because they are very different works from very different artists), A Softer Focus reminds me a bit of Robert Ashley’s Private Parts (The Album). Both feel like the products of deep focus and concentration but wear their rigor loosely, and both feel like beautifully futile attempts to capture or convey the rich messiness of human experience. But although there is a musicality to Private Parts, Ashley is almost obsessed by language and language acts, and even though the human voice is more present than ever in rousay’s work (not just sampled or field recorded, but outright albeit technologically smeared singing on a few tracks) it feels like it reaches to a place in that experience beyond words. The first few times I played it I had moments where I was no longer sure exactly what part of what I was hearing were coming from my speakers versus from outside my apartment, and as beautiful as the more conventional ambient/drone aspects of A Softer Focus are (including the cello and violin heard throughout), it’s that kind of intoxicating disorientation, of almost feeling like I’m experiencing someone else’s memory, that’s going to stay with me the longest.

M. Sage — The Wind Of Things (Geographic North)

The Wind of Things by M. Sage

Who recommended it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? No

Bill Meyer’s take:

Matthew Sage’s hybrid music gets labeled as ambient by default. Sure, it’s gentle enough to be ignorable, but Sage’s combination of ruminative acoustic playing (mostly piano and guitar, with occasional seasoning from reeds, violin, banjo, and percussion) and memory-laden field recordings feels so personal that it’s hard to believe he’d really be satisfied with anyone treating this stuff as background music. But that combination of the placid and the personal may also be The Wind of Things’ undoing since it’s a bit too airy and undemonstrative to make an impression.

Skee Mask — Pool (Ilian Tape)

ITLP09 Skee Mask - Pool by Skee Mask

Who picked it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? No

Robert Ham’s take:

Pool is an appropriate title for the new album by Munich electronic artist Bryan Müller. The record is huge and deep, with its 18 tracks clocking in at around 103 minutes. And Müller has pointedly only released the digital version of Pool through Bandcamp, adding it a little hurdle to fans who just want to pick and choose from its wares for their playlists. Dipping one’s toes in is an option, but the only way to truly appreciate the full effect is to dive on in.

Though Müller filled Pool up with around five years’ worth of material, the album plays like the result of great deliberation. It flows with the thoughtfulness and intention of an adventurous DJ set, with furious breakbeat explosions like “Breathing Method” making way for the languorous ambient track “Ozone” and the unbound “Rio Dub.” Then, without warning, the drum ‘n’ bass breaks kick in for a while.

The full album delights in those quick shifts into new genres or wild seemingly disparate sonic connections happening within the span of a single song. But again, these decisions don’t sound like they were made carelessly. Müller took some time with this one to get the track list just right. But if there is one thread that runs along the entirety of Pool, it is the air of joy that cuts through even its downcast moments. The splashing playfulness is refreshing and inviting.

Speaker Music — Soul-Making Theodicy (Planet Mu)

Soul-Making Theodicy by Speaker Music

Who picked it? Mason Jones

Did we review it? No

Robert Ham’s take:

The process by which DeForrest Brown Jr., the artist known as Speaker Music, created his latest EP sounds almost as exciting as the finished music. If I understand it correctly — and I’m not entirely sure that I do — he created rhythm tracks using haptic synths, a Push sequencer, and a MIDI keyboard, that he sent through Ableton and performed essentially a live set of abstract beats informed by free jazz, trap and marching band. Or as Brown calls them “stereophonic paintings.”

Whatever term you care to apply to these tracks and however they were made, the experience of listening to them is a dizzying one. A cosmic high that takes over the synapses and vibrates them until your vision becomes blurry and your word starts to smear together like fog on a windshield. Listening to this EP on headphones makes the experience more vertiginous if, like I did, you try to unearth the details and sounds buried within the centerpiece track “Rhythmatic Music For Speakers,” a 33-minute symphony of footwork stuttering and polyrhythms. Is that the sound of an audience responding to this sensory overload that I hear underneath it all? Or is that wishful imaginings coming from a mind hungry for the live music experience?

The Telescopes — Songs of Love And Revolution (Tapete)

Songs Of Love And Revolution by the telescopes

Who recommended it? Robert Ham

Did we review it? No.

Andrew Forell’s take:

Songs Of Love And Revolution glides along on murky subterranean rhythms that evoke Mo Tucker’s heartbeat toms backed with thick bowel-shaking bass lines. Somewhere in the murk Stephen Lawrie’s murmured vocals barely surface as he wrings squalls of noise from his guitar to create a dissonant turmoil to contrast the familiarity of what lies beneath. The effect is at once hypnotic and joltingly thrilling, similar to hearing Jesus And Mary Chain for the first time but played a at pace closer to Bedhead. A kind of slowcore shoegaze, its mystery enhanced by what seems deliberately monochrome production that forces and rewards close attention. When they really let go on “We See Magic And We Are Neutral, Unnecessary” it hits like The Birthday Party wrestling The Stooges. So yeah, pretty damn good.

Leon Vynehall — Rare, Forever (Ninja Tune)

Rare, Forever by LEON VYNEHALL

Who recommended it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? No.

Jason Bivins’ take:

I was amused to see Leon Vynehall’s album tucked into the expansive “Unknown genre” non-category. This is, as is often the case with these mid-year exchanges, a bit far afield from the kind of music I usually spin. Much of it is, I suppose, rooted in house music. Throughout these tracks, there are indeed some slinky beats that’ll get you nodding your head while prepping the dinner or while studying in earnest. There’s plenty to appreciate on the level of grooves and patterns, but he closer you listen, the more subversive, sneaky details you notice. The opening “Ecce! Ego!” isn’t quite as brash as the title would suggest, featuring some playfully morphed voices, old school synth patches and snatches of instrumentalism. But after just a couple minutes, vast cosmic sounds start careening around your brainpan while a metal bar drops somewhere in the audial space. Did that just happen? you wonder as the groove continues. Moments of curiosity and even discomfort are plopped down, sometimes as transitions (like the closing vocal announcement on “In>Pin” — “like a moth” — that introduces the echo-canyon of “Mothra”) but usually as head-scrambling curveballs. Startled voices or flutes or subterranean sax bubble up from beneath deep house thrum, then are gone in ways that are arresting and deceptive. I still don’t know what to make of the lounge-y closing to “Snakeskin – Has-Been” or the unexpected drone monolith of “Farewell! Magnus Gabbro.” In its way, Vynehall’s music is almost like what you’d get if Graham Lambkin or Jason Lescalleet made a house record. Pretty rich stuff.

Michael Winter — single track (Another Timbre)

single track by Michael Winter

Who recommended it? Eric McDowell

Did we review it? Not yet!

Mason Jones’ take:

Over its 45 minutes, Michael Winter’s 2015 composition slowly accelerates and accumulates, starting from an isolated violin playing slightly arrhythmic, single fast strokes. The playing, centered around a single root note, seems almost random, but flashes of melodic clusters make it clear they're not. After nine minutes other players have joined in and there's a developing drone, as things sort of devolve, with atonal combinations building. By the one-third mark everything has slowed down significantly, and the players are blending together, with fewer melodies standing out. Instead, it's almost more drone than not; and at a half hour in, most of the strings have been reduced to slowly changing tones. As we near the end we’re hearing beautiful layers of string drones, descending into the final few minutes of nearly static notes. It's an intriguing and oddly listenable composition given its atonality. The early moments bring to mind Michael Nyman, and the later movements summon thoughts of Tony Conrad and La Monte Young, but it's clearly different from any of them, and more than the sum of those parts.

Young Slo-Be — Red Mamba (KoldGreedy Entertainment / Thizzler On The Roof)

youtube

Who picked it? Ray Garraty

Did we review it? No.

Ian Mathers’ take:

The 12 tracks on Red Mamba fly by in a little over 27 minutes (not a one breaks the three-minute mark) but the result doesn’t feel slight so much as pared down to a sharpness you might cut yourself on. Stockon’s Young Slo-Be only seems to have one flow (or maybe it’d be more accurate to say he only seems interested in one) but he knows how to wield it with precision and force, and if the subject matter hews closely to the accepted canon of gangbanger concerns, Slo-Be delivers it all with vivid language and the studied, superior disdain of an older brother explaining the world to you and busting your chops at the same time. The tracks on Red Mamba all come from different producers, but Slo-Be consistently chooses spectral, eerie, foreboding backgrounds for these songs, even when adding piano and church bells (on “Asshole”), dog barks (“21 Thoughts”) or even Godfather-esque strings (the closing “Rico Swavo”). What’s the old line about the strength of street knowledge? These are different streets, and different knowledge.

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cultml · 3 years

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Taking My Leave 1/3

Where’s my head? I don’t have the mental acuity to build clocks in my head but I do enjoy pondering their place, purpose and things that might fill their space, do their job. I don’t know if it’s just the limits of my mental bandwidth or an oddity, when the stress of what’s been the day to day drops my mind begins to play with all the various “clocks” I had forgotten existed. It’s become clear only having intermittent clarity lately how much one’s perception over time sifts. You loose some relatives, make an effort to get comfortable with your own death, but it’s the death of a pet when you see a real shift, an acceptance of the reality. You stare at the clouds, thinking about the creativity it takes to see animals, that real creativity is finding new patterns, that collecting parts, parts of ideas, of questions is the fuel. After three years of that you remember the wonder at just how much space there is in a clear blue sky, not running numbers or how many towers or stadiums fit, just the enormity of the space. That wonders is… more of a memory now…. a kind of deep appreciation…. just a part of who you are. That’s a gain, a deepening?

I’ve been driving home at a different time of day. Passed this wooden privacy fence down a side road. The sun was at the right angle to cast a shadow on the fence from tree up the road a bit. It happened two or three days in a row. I was looking at shadows on the road, sidewalk, etc. and the contrast of flowers and ornamental to the bricks or fences behind them at that moment and the sun on…. I lost the eyes of a son and grandson of carpenters, that spent their lives pouring foundations. The cement and sticks of it hadn’t entered my head in… years? I could summon it. I had no desire to do so. I had seen the world that way for so long… I am not constrained by it any more. I lost something that was a part of me more free for it. The things that cross my mind in five minutes of a drive when stress and garbage is put aside. Lose and a gain? Integration of forgetting? Recently listening to Rick Beato, is changing the way I hear music (the music not the lyrics). It’s a reminder of the time is takes for real art….. still don’t have a handle on it. The complexity of it, the parts of the music, just to waste so much on lyrics that are a total misunderstandings of the world. It’s a gain of understanding not really of my making. All that to let you judge my sanity a bit and to seed the ground.

I am of the firm belief that a golden age is possible, though not probable. You in part have thank the progressives et al. for it. They have systematically destroyed all the institutions. The doors are open and the constants are gone. It’s not just the US alphabet soup or the broader shadow NGOs. It’s medicine. Too best practice / license orientated, with the guy that graduates last from med school problem to start. Then what I hope where good docs got caught behind accept transgenderism best practice or loose your license. To your fired if you don’t take the experimental vaccine. Democracy is down the same road. The military and science and art and virtue and... We have undone a couple of centuries of work.

The beginning of this is the the most important one, “ the death of God”. It’s better though of as the loss of the necessity for a supernatural explanation of day to day hardships. Less hardships and more knowledge was always going to lead us there, progressives not needed. Arguing if God was alive or not kept us from arguing if the moral order was sound or not. It may be the biggest human mistake. So now a couple millenia of advancement is on the table. The left can’t see the opportunities, they have their plans. The “right” ... for fuck sake. God and the church are dead. You can’t legislate morality. What worked may not be the only thing that works. Reversion to what was is not a reformation, in fact reversion slows reformation. And using government to do it.

People don’t seem to understand ideas are boundaries are walls. One wall must be torn down because the utopia lay just beyond it and the next must never be touched because it keeps hell at bay. The truth it’s neither and both. We want to argue about the walls when we should learn to build windows. The are two relevant ideas from Peterson. First that artists should be exploring the boundaries of the unknown, that is in fact their job. To do that you have to first try and understand and explain the known at the edges. In doing that they should be illuminating possible paths forward. The second is that better is something that does everything the old thing did and more. So that cheap small appliance from the box store is more efficient? cheaper? more durable...? So different not better. Better is a hard thing. Creativity of and calculated risks by individuals are the only way to better. A society has to be build for those who can discover wisdom as well as those who will never understand it.

Getting people worked up about CRT is fine, what about 1619 project or a hundred other things. Explained simply, teach children that they are not an individual but a member of a group all the rest comes in and you have already lost... by third grade or so. You have people like Charlie Kirk..... clearly branded as an enemy of the left , that is increasing seen as an enemy of America, leading the charge against vaccinations for returning collage students even those who have had Covid. It’s a simple sane augment that is the sorts of weapons you need....now lost because dumdum had to plaster his face all over it. And the infrastructure bill and the Jan6 hearing, and this and that and so on. Both of the “sides” are hopelessly lost in their own realities. You want to use what we know and really try something new, to try and foster an actual reformation, to try to open a door to a possible golden age.... they are both in the damn way.

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wannabespacesmuggler · 4 years

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Masterlist

CATEGORIZED BY CHARACTER IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

ALARIC SALTZMAN

Destined: For most of your life you’ve had a deer tattoo across your abdomen that you had no recollection of getting. You’ve spent years trying to figure out what the tattoo could mean; however, when you got thrown into the supernatural world of Mystic Falls, the idea of soulmates isn’t as crazy as you’ve previously thought.

DARYL DIXON

Shane’s Girl: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you're forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Sickness: You’ve got the sickness currently sweeping through the prison and your very worried boyfriend comes to visit you while you’re currently in the sick ward

ETHAN HUNT

Need: When a solo mission you were on goes awry, your best friend will not rest until you return; however, little did he know that as he was waiting for you to return, you were going through hell. After you return, you are both suddenly aware of how much you need one another.

Would You Do It Again?: Ethan answers the one question that’s been on Luther’s mind for the past couple of months: if he could go back and change things, would he still do everything the same knowing how things would end for the both of you in the end?

JIM HOPPER

The Duality of Jim Hopper: Ever since Joyce introduced you to the local chief of police, Jim Hopper, you’ve thought maybe this town is a little too small. You’re certain that there is no truth behind the rumors until you take one hell of a beating and Hopper wants answers.

KILLIAN JONES

Small Talk and Mediocre Coffee: You recently moved to Storybrooke and began working the morning shift at Granny’s diner. Meanwhile, Killian Jones has been working the night shift on the docks of Storybrooke for years. When his routine gets turned upside down, he begins to understand the simple joy brought by an early cup of coffee, as long as you’re the one pouring it.

LEONARD “BONES” MCCOY

Of Medicine and Mayhem: Maybe you should be thanking Jim Kirk for flirting with your roommate at a bar one night as it allowed you to meet his grumpy best friend, Leonard McCoy. But you’re pretty sure that’d only fuel his ego and that’s definitely not something you want to do.

~ Some Starfleet Academy drabbles about you, your mess of a roommate, everyone’s favorite homewrecker, and your favorite cranky medical student

LOGAN HOWLETT

Like a Moth to a Flame: Logan Howlett is a dangerous man; at least, that's what he wants you to think when he first meets you during your shift at Lucky's. However, he only seems to prove the opposite as he becomes a more constant presence in your life. After learning his true identity in a dark back alley, he's certain you want nothing to do with him. But against your better judgment, you're drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Scotty Doesn’t Know: Scott Summers made two things clear for Logan when he first arrived at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters: stay away from his girlfriend and don’t even look at his little sister. The former was easy. The latter, though? That one’s a little harder for Logan.

When You Call My Name: Decades after the events of 1973, Logan finds himself drowning yet again at the bottom of the Potomac River. Luckily, you're there to help pull him out of his nightmare.

LUKE DANES

Mystery Mechanic: You’re a mechanic from California that had just recently moved to Stars Hollow looking for a change in pace. When Lorelai meets you after bringing her car in for an inspection she is certain that you and Luke are meant to be.

OBI-WAN KENOBI

A Moment of Peace: Obi-Wan Kenobi gets word that Duchess Satine Kryze’s life is in danger, but the council is certain that the Senate will not allow him to give his assistance if asked. Accompanying your fellow Jedi Master on his rogue mission with the help of his former Padawan Anakin Skywalker and his padawan Ahsoka Tano, you and Obi-Wan have to come to terms with the consequences of the force bond you share while traversing the underworld of Mandalore in an attempt to protect the Duchess.

#masterlist #alaric saltzman #daryl dixon #ethan hunt #leonard mccoy #luke danes #obi-wan kenobi #killian jones #jim hopper #logan howlett

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alexanderveigh · 4 years

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Ask game

tagged by the lovely Maya @mayasigma <3

tagging @okay-and-wonderful @gender-snatched @marlinspirkhall and @sparklecharmer

this is long so don’t worry if you don’t want to do it! ^^

1. What is the color of your hairbrush? Black, but I have a blue carebear comb also...

2. A food you never eat? Meat, as I’m vegan.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Warm. So goddamn warm. Thanks, second puberty.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Doing some cardio exercises.

5. What is your favourite candy bar? I don’t know what really classifies as candy, I just love chocolate. Any kind of vegan milk chocolate!

6. Have you ever been to a professional sporting event? ahahahaha, no.

7. What was the last thing you said out loud? “same”...after listening to a podcast which said “she was painted as a slut with a bladder problem”

8. What is your favourite ice cream? Stracciatella. Same as Maya!

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Water

10. Do you like your wallet? I have a funky card holder because it’s small ans can fit into my pockets, its got a golden pattern on it.

11. What was the last thing you ate? Home made sweet potato and chocolate cake

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? I actually did, I bought some stuff online. Couple of dresses and shirts.

13. The last sporting event you watched? You are mistaking me for someone who know anything about sports.

14. What is your favourite flavor of popcorn? Sweet and salted! Best of both worlds!

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to? A dude on Instagram who wanted to know where I got my Kirk shirt from.

16. Ever go camping? I used to go a lot with my family. Haven’t been for a good few years now. I’d go again, I want to go wild camping one day!

17. Do you take vitamins? I should but I haven’t for a while.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? I have never been to church on a Sunday.

19. Do you have a tan? Not right now.

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? I eat Chinese food a lot more, but I do adore pizza, it’s a treat for me.

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? I don’t drink soda and I never use straws tbh.

22. What color socks do you usually wear? Mostly just black but I have a load of funky pastel socks that I wear with my more aesthetic outfits.

23. Ever drive above the speed limit? I have a few times yeah. I don’t currently own a car now though, so now danger of that tehe.

24. What terrifies you? Abandonment. Heights. The deep parts of the ocean. Being unfulfilled in life.

25. Look to your left what do you see? A wall lmao

26. What chore do you hate? Laundry and making the bed. I don’t really mind doing the dishes, i just stick on a podcast and dance a bit while I do it.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? I think of steve irwin and cry.

28. What is your favourite soda? I dont really drink it but if I have to choose, I like pink lemonade. I’m such a basic bitch.

29. Do you go into a fast food place or just hit the drive through? I dont really go to fast food places.

30. Who was the last person you talked to? My girlfriend, Ana <3

31. Favourite cut of beef? No beef for me thanks.

32. Last song you listened to? Physical by Dua Lipa.

33. Last book you read? The Secret Life of Cows, such an adorable book!

34. Favourite day of the week? What is time???

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards? probably, very slowly.

36. How do you like your coffee? Black with some stupid sweet syrup in it, like hazelnut

37. Favourite pair of shoes? My big stompy goth demonia platform boots. they make me feel powerful.

38. At what time do you usually go to bed? God....it’s all over the place atm. Usually between midnight and 2am.

39. At what time do you normally get up? 7:30, but before the quarantine it was 7:00am

40. What do you prefer - sunrises or sunsets? Sunsets. Something so romantic about them. I think of being on the beach with my family on the isle of wight and watching the sun set over the sea. Sun rises just make me think of what I was a teenager and partying so long that I just wouldn’t sleep.

41. How many blankets are on your bed? None, too goddamn hot!!

42. Describe your kitchen plates? So boring, just white. I’m saving up for lots of pastel kitchen wear! the dream!

43. Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? Anything gin or whiskey based.

44. Do you play cards? I can play cards yeah, I usually play at family gatherings.

45. What colour is your car? Don’t have one!

46. Can you change a tire? Nope. I’m gay.

47. What is your favourite province/state? I’ve never been to the US, so I can’t answer that sadly.

48. Favourite job you ever had? It wasn’t a real job per sue but volunteering at a big film festival was the most fun experience of my life!

49. How did you get your biggest scar? ....I fell over in a club on my 22nd birthday and gashed my knee open. I don’t even remember it happening. I was a drunken idiot.

50. What did you do today that made someone happy? I arrange to see my family for the first time in three months! I think my mum is really happy.

#asks #personal #personal shizz

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sarah-wants-to-write · 4 years

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I Dare You to Love; Part Three (Star Trek AOS)

A mistake in communication leaves Jim iced out from Shari, for something he didn’t even know he did. When he realizes what went wrong, he feels like a right ass. As does Shari, when she realizes her mistake. Can the two patch things up, and save their friendship?

(A/N: A little bit of Russian here, in the Russian alphabet. Here’s the translations: брат means brother, сестра means sister, and ягуар means jaguar. Now that that’s out of the way; enjoy the chaos!)

Jim had fucked up, and he knew it. Though he didn’t know how, he knew he’d fucked up.

Shari wasn’t talking to him. Oh, she responded to questions, gave reports, and was impeccably professional, but other than that?

The planet that Spock had marooned him on all those years ago was warm, compared to her attitude.

All of this, starting nearly a week ago, had agitated the wolf within quite a bit, and he wasn’t letting Jim hear the end of it. He felt absolutely horrible, and others had started to notice. Bones had seen the whole situation, and expressed his sympathy to Jim.

“No matter how close you get,” the doctor started, patting Jim on the shoulder “women are still a mystery. You’re sure you don’t know what you did?”

“Not for sure,” Jim sighed, resisting the urge to let his head hit the table as they sat eating in the mess hall “I just know I must have done something…”

“Are you speaking of Lieutenant Neilson’s change in attitude?” Spock spoke up, having come to join Bones and Jim “are you still not sure what caused it?”

“It’s eating him up inside,” Bones replied, watching Jim groan while holding his face in his hands “has been for days.”

“It is best to figure this out quickly,” Spock observed “so this does not begin to affect you even more. You said it started six days ago, after Alpha shift ended?”

“That’s when I first noticed it,” Jim muttered, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think “it was after the away mission, and I’d been talking about the culture and people with Uhura. We were talking about how the definition of ‘attractive’ changes from culture to culture, and…oh…oh god.”

“I think I can see the lightbulb that just lit up,” Bones declared, watching Jim bang his head against the table a few times before letting it rest there “what happened?”

“I’d made a comment about how it was strange to me that the Governor’s wife was considered attractive,” came the muffled reply “I’d been talking about the woman’s hair, but that was clearly not what Shari heard.”

Bones remembered immediately the woman Jim was talking about, who shared the same body type as Shari.

“She thought you were commenting on her figure,” he mused, wincing in sympathy “yeah, she’d be right to be pissed off.”

“From what I know from Nyota, of how human women are pressured to look,” Spock nodded along “it makes sense that she would be sensitive.”

“When you both agree, that’s when I know I screwed up,” Jim sighed, finally sitting up “I have no idea how I’m gonna make it up to her. She’s been avoiding me whenever possible. Doesn’t help that Asha seems to be like a warning system for her.”

“You’ll think of something, kid,” Bones tried to encourage, patting the younger man on the shoulder “you always do.”

Jim knew he had to. His wolf was up and pacing, nervous at not having been in contact with Shari for a week. The animal in his soul was protective of her, though Jim wasn’t sure why, since he was just friends with her. At least, that’s what he thought.

Maybe…maybe it was something more.

“If I might offer a recommendation,” Spock interjected “perhaps you should speak to Nyota on the matter. Though we have our own pressures about our image, men and women have distinctly different experiences. Perhaps her views will help you.”

“Yeah, you were right, Jim,” Bones sighed “when Spock and I agree, that’s when you really made a mess of things.”

“Don’t remind me.” Jim groaned.

Shari knew she was stubborn; it was a major fault of hers. Sure, it could be seen as a virtue when dealing with a troublesome or scared animal, but in terms of her personal life, it was definitely a fault.

Hearing what Jim had said after the away mission, remembering that the Governor’s wife had looked just like her in terms of body shape, it had hurt Shari more than she expected it would. Jim was her friend, and here he was basically saying that he thought that people like her, and by extension Shari herself, weren’t attractive at all.

Everyone had their own preferences, she knew that, but it stung to hear. Especially when she knew that Jim knew she was within ear shot. It made her mad, even. Jim had said, on more than one occasion, that he thought she was one of the most beautiful women on the ship! Of course, he’d said it to help quell her insecurities, when she’d opened up to him about her low self-esteem, but that made what he’d said all the more hurtful. He knew how little she thought of herself, in terms of looks.

Of course, only a few days later, she’d realized that she’d overreacted some, and taken his comments the wrong way. Yet by then, the damage was done. She’d been avoiding him whenever she could, remaining professional whenever she needed to be. Shari knew she’d been cold, but it was what she felt that he deserved at the time.

“God, Pavel, I’m a moron,” Shari groaned as she knocked her head against her desk “why did I have to overreact like that?”

“I don’t think it was an overreaction,” Chekov shrugged, looking on in sympathy “Captain Kirk is a dear friend of yours, and you believed he was insulting you. In hindsight, yes, definitely an overreaction, but you were justified in the moment.”

“Not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better,” she muttered, unceremoniously flopping onto the floor of her lab so Asha could come and lay down over her lap “I’m sure he’s the one mad at me now, since I’ve been so cold to him…”

“From what I’ve seen and heard,” he countered, turning in his chair to face her “he actually feels pretty bad about it. He hasn’t seemed to be himself, during quiet moments on the bridge.”

“And that makes me feel even worse,” Shari moaned, letting herself fall backwards to lay on the lab floor “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, especially since…”

Should she mention it? Mention what she’d been feeling since the day Jim opened up to her about Tarsus IV, and his medical exam aversion? The sleek, spotted part of her soul that had woken up and not stopped pacing since that day?

“Since what?” Chekov prompted, looking on in confusion “you can’t keep me in suspense like that, сестра.”

“Ever since the day I told you about, a month or so back, when Jim gave the go-ahead for the comfort animal experiment…” Shari continued, nervous to look at Chekov “I’ve felt something, брат, deep inside…and she woke up.”

“You mean, the beast in your soul?” Chekov lit up like the nacelles of the ship before going into warp, smiling “because of the Captain?!”

“Maybe? I don’t know!” she groaned, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes in frustration “all I know is this separation is eating me up inside, and the ягуар inside isn’t happy about it at all. She’s VERY upset that I haven’t seen him.”

“Honestly, if you just spoke to him, it might clear everything up,” Chekov offered, wanting to try and help “we men are very stupid. Sometimes we need to be smacked in the face with what went wrong, to understand.”

“What would you know about being a man, mister freshly 23?” Shari teased, offering the younger a smile “thank you, брат, for dealing with my griping. I’ll wallow for a bit longer, and talk to him at the end of shift tonight.”

“You better,” the Ensign playfully threatened “otherwise the Bridge just might organize an intervention. We like the Captain happy, thank you very much.”

“Get out of here, you bouncy ball of Russian excellence.”

That night, Shari’s heart was racing as she made her way to the commissary for food, trying to think of what she would say to try and apologize for how she’d been acting. Asha kept pace by her side, tail twitching from side to side.

Her jaguar within was just as nervous. She knew that Jim was important, so very important, and this was the biggest step in the right direction after everything almost fell apart.

Waiting for the lift, Shari looked up when the door opened, to find none other than the very man she was looking for. Jim was thankfully, blessedly, alone, when she and Asha silently stepped in and the doors closed.

“Shari-”

“Jim-”

“You first,” he offered, gesturing to her.

“No, please, you were first.” She countered, her hands clenched in nervousness.

“…can we talk? Privately?” he asked, after a moment of silence “I can make something for us to eat in my quarters. Benefit of being a captain is having a real kitchen, though it’s small.”

Shari could see he genuinely wanted to talk, and the nerves in his eyes were almost endearing.

“Of course,” she nodded, smiling as he seemed to almost sag in relief “I wanted to talk to you, too. Should save it for privacy, though.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Jim declared, calling for the lift to go to the right floor.

The walk to his quarters was done in silence, Shari trying not to fidget the whole time. When they were inside, and Jim was leading her to the kitchenette, she felt Asha almost push the back of her legs, as though trying to encourage her. The jaguar within was doing the same.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, causing Jim to wheel around in surprise “I should have known you weren’t saying what I thought you said. It was the heat of the moment, and I overreacted.”

“Wait, why are you apologizing to me?” Jim asked, eyes wide “I was the one who made you feel like shit, especially from what Chekov told me. I should be the one apologizing to you. I am sorry, I should have known how you would have taken it.”

“It’s my fault, I’m too sensitive,” Shari insisted, tensing up a little as Jim walked closer “comes from years of never being the pretty one, or skinniest. I should have developed a thicker skin by now.”

“Hey, look at me,” he told her when she looked away “Shari, look at me. Please.”

When she finally looked up at him, her own blue eyes connected with his own, and saw so much swimming in them.

Hearing Shari talk so poorly of herself had Jim fuming inside. What had she gone through, to cause her to be so stubborn, and her self-esteem so low?

The wolf inside wasn’t happy, either, and Jim couldn’t help putting his hand on her cheek after their eyes connected. He saw so much swimming in them; pain, fear, a small bit of hope.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he told her, voice pitched low as he barely spoke above a murmur “don’t ever speak so poorly of yourself again. Please.”

“But Jim, I-” she started, but he shook his head to stop her.

“You said yourself you’ll never be any shape other than what you are,” he continued “you were born that way. Why should you be ashamed of that? And anyone who ever made you feel like you weren’t pretty, well, they were idiots, but they were right. You’re not. You’re beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, and a bunch of other adjectives I can’t think of right now. You’re more than just pretty, in my eyes.

“The very first thing that went through my head when I saw you at the mixer was how beautiful you were, in a blue dress that matched your eyes,” Jim declared, smiling at the surprise on Shari’s face “but it was more than that. Your fierce personality, your loyalty, how you had no qualm with standing up for someone you didn’t even know. There’s so much more that makes you beautiful, than just how you look.”

“Jim…” she trailed off, tears in her eyes as she suddenly lunged forward and wrapped him in one of the tightest hugs he’d ever been given “God damn you and your amazing way with words.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” he replied, chuckling a small bit as he returned the hug, his nose buried in her hair “so, do you believe me?”

“Starting to.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“Only if you forgive me.”

“I forgave you ages ago,” Jim insisted, pulling away a small bit to look down at her, though the wolf within was protesting the distance “besides, I did kind of deserve it.”

“You’re unbelievable,” she laughed, making Jim smile “but that’s why we’re friends. God, not talking to you just sucked.”

“Same,” Jim laughed “come on, let’s have dinner and catch up. I think Asha’s getting hungry, too.”

Though he found pulling away completely to be difficult, he somehow managed, and they spent hours chatting as he cooked, then as they ate, before she had to leave. Her smile as she left, lingering from the laughing fit that Asha knocking him off his chair had caused, made Jim’s heart race.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Captain,” she said as she bade him farewell, eyes twinkling “I look forward to seeing you around again.”

“Same here,” he replied, smiling bright “I’ll see you in the morning, Lieutenant.”

As the door closed behind her and Asha, Jim knew he was well and truly screwed. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know when, but somehow, he’d fallen hard and fast for Shari. It had taken them being apart for him to finally realize it.

At the realization, the wolf within howled, as though to say ‘about damn time’.

Yup, he was screwed, and loving every second of it.

Jim was in love.

#star trek aos #star trek fic #kirk fic #james t kirk #star trek kelvin timeline #i dare you to love fic

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ksfd89 · 7 years

Text

Welcome Home

Literati fic for Day 5 of AGilmoreChristmas!

Lorelai's house is like something from a picture. Chrystallised in snow, it resembles the gingerbread house Sookie makes this time of year and, as Lorelai remarked, the entire town looks like it was built in a snowglobe. Rory tucks her legs up on the couch, taking the cup of coffee her mother hands her. This year, she doesn't care how few barcounts Stars Hollow has. It's good to get away.

"You okay, sweets?" Lorelai asks, sitting next to her and Rory smiles and nods. She glances over at the basket beside her to see if her daughter's stirring. Charlotte is still soundly asleep, the Santa hat Lorelai gave her tickling her cheek, and Rory smiles.

"She's still out for the count," she says and Lorelai sighs.

"You'd think she'd be more excited for her first Christmas."

"Mom, she's five months old."

"I know, I know."

"Anyway, I'll take as much sleep as I can," Rory says, lowering her voice. "Charlotte still won't sleep through the night."

"Give it time," Lorelai says and Rory nods. "You were a fussy baby too and then you just settled, until you found your voice. You slept pretty well though."

"I hope it's not too long with her," Rory says, somewhat pessimistically, and Lorelai pats her hand.

"Has it been tougher lately? You sound stressed."

"I've been stressed since she was born."

"I know - but more lately."

"I'm just tired," Rory says honestly. "You know, sometimes I think she's still mad at me for moving back to New York. I think she was calmest when we brought her here after the hospital."

"Well, who wouldn't love it here?" Lorelai teases but she adds, "You know you guys can move back here. Anytime, hon. The door's open."

Rory smiles and nods, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she places a hand on the edge of the basket, looking into Charlotte's face. When her daughter's eyes are open they are bright blue, just like hers. Baby eyes, everyone said, but they haven't changed. Lorelai eyes, Luke called them. Rory likes that. Under the Santa hat Charlotte has a swirl of dark hair and Emily said, somewhat sadly, that she looked just like her mother. Rory didn't tell her how she prayed that hair would stay.

"She looks so peaceful," Lorelai whispers and, as if on cue, Charlotte's eyes snap open and she starts to scream.

"You jinxed it!" Rory moans and Lorelai cries, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"You had a baby, how could you forget?" Rory demands. She scoops Charlotte up, snuggling her against her chest. The Santa hat falls off but Rory wraps Charlotte tightly in the flannel shirt Luke gave her. It serves as a blanket, ever since Rory brought her home, and most of the time it calms Charlotte down. Now, however, she sobs inconsolably and Rory deduces, "She's hungry. I can't believe what an appetite she has."

"Well, she's got it from both of us."

Rory rolls her eyes, sitting back against the couch to feed the baby. Charlotte's cries cease as she eats and Rory lets out a long breath.

"Are things really okay?" Lorelai asks anxiously and Rory exclaims, "Mom, you're asking me every two seconds!"

"Well, I worry! I can't help it, I'm your mother, and this one's grandmother." Lorelai wrinkles her nose at the word but goes on, "I want to make sure you're both okay."

"We're both okay."

"Because if it's not okay -"

"Mom, we're okay," Rory says, sitting up as Charlotte finishes. "If we weren't, I'd tell you. And you call every week, sometimes twice a week, so you can see."

"I can see how tired you are."

"I'm a mom!" Rory exclaims. "That's part of the deal, right?"

"Right," Lorelai agrees, and then sighs and smiles. "I'm just glad you guys are here. I've missed you."

"We've missed you too," Rory says, smiling over Charlotte's head. She burps her and Lorelai holds out her arms.

"Come here, cutie."

"Do you mean me or the baby?" Rory jokes. She passes Charlotte over and Lorelai kisses her cheeks and each of her baby fingers. Charlotte’s mouth breaks into a wide smile and Lorelai laughs, kissing her again.

"I can't believe how big she is already."

"Next year it'll be even worse," Rory remarks, and Lorelai nods. "Maybe she'll actually enjoy Christmas though."

"Charlotte knows!" Lorelai protests. "She just doesn't know how to say it, right, angel?"

Charlotte stares at both of them, wide-eyed, and Lorelaia and Rory laugh.

"How about we take Charlotte for a Christmas walk?" Lorelai suggests. "Show her the town?"

"Mom, we went out this afternoon. I didn't think Miss Patty would ever give her back."

"Charlotte didn't see all the lights before."

"Okay, but I'm blaming you if Taylor kidnaps her," Rory says darkly. "He kept saying she could be used in the Nativity this year."

"But then he said Jesus was a boy, remember?" Lorelai says. "Come on, maybe we can snaffle some hot chocolate."

It's freezing out. Rory has put on a coat, scarf and hat and is still chilled through and she holds Charlotte closely, half thinking they should just go back. The town is beautiful though. The Christmas lights are shining all over the snow, like splashes of gold, and the tree stands proudly in the middle of the square. Rory stares up at it, remembering how last year the scent made her nauseous. Or maybe it was the situation. She didn't suppose Logan appreciated her news as a Christmas gift.

"Rory?"

Lorelai is looking at her, confused, and Rory shakes herself, smiling.

"Just admiring the tree."

Charlotte has dozens of admirers herself. They are waylaid by Miss Patty, Babette and Morey and Kirk.

"You know you can borrow Petal anytime," Kirk tells them. "She's always been a great buddy when I've thrown up, and I hear babies do that."

"You heard correctly."

"I'm sure Charlotte throws up as much as I do. Petal can clear that up in seconds."

"Thanks, Kirk," Lorelai says deftly. "Merry Christmas."

"This town is weird," Rory remarks and Lorelai laughs. "You're noticing now?"

Taylor gives them hot chocolate with a ten percent discount on account of the season, and reminds them of the Princess Charlotte sundae he concocted.

"I made it in her honour," he says sadly and Rory says, "And we love it, Taylor. But it's not really the weather for sundaes."

"Never stopped you before," Taylor sniffs, and Rory can't argue. "What's your daughter going to say when you don't buy her special sundae?"

"Seeing as all she can say now is baby sounds, I think we're good," Rory says. "Thanks, Taylor."

"I expect you to buy sundaes next time!" he calls as they walk out. "It's not for me, it's for her!"

"Crazy town," Lorelai comments, putting her arm around Rory. "Come on, let's go home."

They walk back as fast as the icy ground allows, and the house's lights are welcome and warm. Rory sees there's still no extra car and asks Lorelai, "What time is Jess getting here?"

"I'm not sure, angel. Luke'll know. Let's go in, it's so cold!"

Luke has started cooking and delicious smells fill Rory's nostrils. She breathes them in, instantly hungry, but a dull feeling takes its place when Luke tells them,

"Jess says the roads are jammed. He'll probably be here tomorrow, not tonight."

"That's too bad," Rory says. She concentrates on taking off Charlotte's coat and hat and jumps as Lorelai says, "Hey, let me hang those up. Go spoil your appetite."

"Charlotte needs changing," Rory says, for once relieved at that distraction. "That'll spoil my appetite, no need for snacks!"

Lorelai laughs and Rory takes Charlotte to the bathroom, changes her and takes her back through so Lorelai can spoil her some more.

The rest of the evening passes quietly. Rory and Lorelai have a movie marathon, showing Charlotte all the classics, before putting her to bed and watching some more. Rory's eyelids droop during some kind of Lifetime drama, a handful of chocolate halfway to her mouth, and she's dimly aware of her mother saying, "You're falling asleep."

"No," Rory yawns, letting her eyelids drop. The next thing she knows a blanket is being tucked around her and she looks up to see Lorelai bending over her, a tender look in her eyes.

"Merry Christmas, angel," her mother whispers. "Get some rest."

"I'm glad I'm home," Rory says, half-awake, and Lorelai smiles, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm glad you're home too. Goodnight, baby. I love you."

When Rory opens her eyes again the room is empty and dark. She sits up, wincing at the crick in her neck, and the time on her phone reads that it's just past eleven thirty. Rory opens the phone properly and sees there are no new messages and sits back against the cushions, feeling jumbled. It's not Christmas yet, but Rory is afraid Logan won't call at all. Part of her doesn't want him to. She’s barely spoken to him since Charlotte was born.

Getting up, Rory stumbles into her bedroom, her legs a little numb. Her breasts are hard and full and Rory is more relieved when Charlotte wakes up, indignantly hungry. Rory turns on the light, looking around her childhood room as Charlotte feeds. Her books are still on the shelves and Rory imagines showing them to Charlotte as she grows older, giving them to her to read. She doesn't know if Charlotte will even like books, but she always seems captivated when Rory reads to her. She tried a story Jess gave her and Charlotte dribbled all over the page.

Rory burps Charlotte as she finishes eating and lays her back in the cradle. Luke built it right before Charlotte's birth and there's an ABC carved into the headboard, along with an alphabet quilt. It's perfect, but tonight Charlotte doesn't want to lie down. She fusses and then starts crying properly, filling the room with loud wails.

"What's up?" Rory asks, picking her up. "You're wearing reindeer pyjamas, kid! How can you not want to sleep? You know it's Christmas Eve? Well, you probably don't, but Santa can't come if you don't sleep."

Charlotte ignores her and Rory sighs. "I should have figured you're too little for that to work."

She walks around the room in an endless circle, rubbing Charlotte's back and kissing her cheeks. Charlotte won't sleep at all and by now Rory's wide awake. She feels restless and cooped up, as she has for most of the past few months, and finally decides they both need some air. Tiptoeing out, she puts her coat on and buttons Charlotte's tightly around her, as well as adding a blanket and a scarf and hat. Opening the door, Rory steps out and then gasps. Everything shimmers, silent and frozen. The world, for a moment, is perfectly still. Rory closes her eyes, breathing in and out, and feels herself relax. She walks away from the house and down into the town, stopping by the gazebo. Charlotte's stopped crying by now, and Rory looks down at her blue eyes.

"This was Mommy's favourite place," she tells her. "I used to come here all the time, with your Aunt Lane, or just by myself. I'd have a big pile of books and I'd be happy all day. I was so happy then."

She feels a little sad, thinking of her younger self, but adds, "I'm going to take you here too. Maybe we can read together, when you're older."

Charlotte blinks and Rory laughs. Looking up, Rory sees all the lights are on in the church and is confused before remembering. Midnight Mass. She edges closer towards the building. Lane is likely to be inside, but Rory stands out, closing her eyes and listening to the soft melody of the carols. She imagines the Nativity and is sure the same old doll is being used. Rory smiles, listening to the music and remembers a line from a book she once read. Could be better, could be worse...at least there's a baby at the center of it. Her own baby wriggles a little and Rory lifts her up, giving Charlotte a kiss.

"Let's get you home, angel. It's cold outside."

Rory turns and, just then, a car slows and stops. She is puzzled for a moment and then exclaims, "Jess!"

Jess cuts the engine and gets out, smiling.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I live here!" Rory laughs. "Or I did - you know what I mean. What are you doing here? Luke said you couldn't get here until tomorrow."

"I didn't think I'd make it but the roads cleared. I could have stayed in a motel but figured I'd surprise you."

"Well, you certainly did."

Rory takes him in; his jacket shrugged on and his crooked smile, his dark eyes warm. Surprise at seeing Jess is never longlived. Of course he’s here, of course he made it. Happiness bubbles through her chest, wiping the melancholy from before.

Rory smiles at him and Jess grins down at Charlotte.

"How is she?"

"Great. Well, a little restless, but she's calmed down now."

"Felt the need to take her on an impromptu town tour?"

"Neither of us could sleep. Besides, it's safer now that everyone else is in bed."

"I can imagine. May I?"

Jess gestures to hold Charlotte and Rory nods, gently passing her into his arms.

"Hey," Jess says softly to her. Charlotte stares up at him and then her eyes flutter closed.

"She's beautiful," Jess says. "Not that I'm surprised you had a beautiful baby."

"Why, thank you."

"And smart too."

"You know she can't read yet."

"She's going to be smart."

Rory doesn't argue and Jess adds, "She's twice the size since I last saw her."

"And twice as loud," Rory says ruefully. Jess chuckles but Rory's smile is faint and he pauses.

"Hey - how about we go sit somewhere warmer? I'm freezing my butt off, not to mention other things."

"Watch it mister, you're talking in front of a baby," Rory scolds but she's grinning. "Me too."

They head back to the house, leaving the car. "It'll drive Taylor crazy," Jess commented. "That's half the joy of Christmas."

It's only when they're back inside, Jess holding Charlotte as Rory puts on a pot of coffee, that she starts to feel shy. She hasn't seen Jess since summer, when Charlotte was just a few weeks old. He was there when she was born too, waiting outside. Lorelai was in with her, holding her hand, and Jess waited with Luke and Emily. Rory was the one to tell him. It's a girl, she said, her voice tired with pain. She was elated and exhausted and couldn't believe it was real, but she asked to tell Jess. She remembers the smile lighting up his face, replacing the concern which had been there before. Rory let him hold her, her nameless little daughter, and she'd never seen such a gentle look on his face before. He asked if she had a name yet and Rory said no, just baby Gilmore girl. You're amazing, he'd said, sitting beside her. You did it. And then Logan arrived and Jess left them alone.

Logan asked if she was okay. I'm fine, she said automatically and had laughed at herself. I just had a baby. I feel like I've been run over. Logan had taken her hand but Rory pushed the baby into his arms. Look, she's a girl. Did you think she would be? Logan said he hadn't imagined anything at all, piercing Rory's heart with pain. He'd brought a giant bear which he put on the chair, and walked around the room with the baby in his arms, looking terrified the entire time. She's so small. They made an arrangement - he'd see her whenever Logan had work in the states, and figure the rest out later. No, Odette didn't know. No, he didn't want to tell her. It's fine as it is. Rory named their baby Charlotte Lorelai and he said it was pretty. Then he went back to London, and it was Rory and Charlotte alone.

The first three weeks of Charlotte's life are a blur, but Rory remembers Jess coming to visit. She was staying with Lorelai for a little while, getting used to things, and Jess came for a few days while he had a thing in Hartford. He brought Charlotte baby books, gave her a bath and changed her diaper. He said again how he highly approved of the name choice, after Charlotte Brontë and her mother, and asked Rory how she was. Fine, she'd said. Because that was what you had to say.

"I think the coffee's done," Jess says, making her jump. "Need a hand?"

"Oh - thanks." Rory takes Charlotte from him, watching Jess pick out two cups and pouring the drinks. They go and sit down and Rory gently places Charlotte in her basket. She doesn't sleep but lies still, uncomplaining, and Rory releases her breath.

"So how are you?" Jess asks and Rory opens her mouth to give the standard response, but then says, "Exhausted."

"I bet."

"It's been so hard," Rory says and Jess frowns sympathetically.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Rory says quietly. "No one tells you what having a baby is really like. I love her - I love her so much it's insane, but it's so hard. Sometimes -"

She stops herself and Jess says, "What?"

"Sometimes I think I did the wrong thing," Rory says hesitantly. "But she's my girl. I love her. Even as I think it, I don't."

"What does Lorelai say?"

"I haven't told Mom. If I tell her, she'll worry and want me to move here, and I don't want to. I want to try New York first, at least for now."

"Are you doing okay?" Jess asks seriously and Rory nods.

"Yeah, it's just - some days are harder than others. And it's been hard today. I mean, I'm happy, it's Christmas, but it's not - I guess it's not how I imagined. Logan said he'd call, but he hasn't."

"Do you want him to?"

"I want him to for her," Rory says. "He calls now and then and said it still doesn't feel real to him, that he has a kid."

"That sucks," Jess says and Rory nods, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"He loves her. He's still in shock over it, I guess."

Jess looks like he has more to say, but simply sips his drink. They finish their coffee in silence and Rory says,

"Should I wake Mom and Luke?"

"No, keep it a surprise, or whatever," Jess says. "I'm beat. Had a signing yesterday."

"Lots of adoring fans?"

"Just a few," Jess grins. "How's your writing going?"

"It's not," Rory admits. "I've had no time since she's been born. I finished my first draft right before I went into labour. It was so funny, it was like she knew I was done."

Jess laughs and asks, "Can I read it?"

"Sure," Rory says, after a pause. "It's still on my desk, in my old room. It feels like forever ago that I looked at it."

"Is it okay if I add thoughts?"

"What kind of thoughts?"

"I don't know yet, Gilmore," Jess says maddeningly. "Whatever thoughts I have."

"Add away," Rory says, amused. "It's pretty messy right now."

"Thanks," Jess says and Rory smiles. Charlotte whimpers a little and Rory picks her up.

"She needs to get to sleep."

"She's not the only one," Jess agrees. "Night, Rory."

"Night, Jess."

Rory puts Charlotte back in her cradle and gets back into bed. She's just thinking that drinking coffee may have been foolish when she falls asleep.

Rory and Charlotte are woken the next morning by Lorelai waving candy canes in the air and two stuffed stockings.

"Merry Christmas, guys! And guess who made it last night after all, besides Santa?"

The morning is spent in their pyjamas, unwrapping gifts. Charlotte is enchanted by the presents and happiness around her, letting out excited burbles and grabbing at the torn paper.

"Kid has got tons of gifts and she's more interested in the box," Rory says, shaking her head, and Lorelai laughs.

"Welcome to having a kid!"

Emily calls, thanking them for their gifts. She reminds Lorelai of the time she’s agreed to visit next week and asks Rory pointedly how Logan is. Rory gives general answers,deliberately vague, and weakly pushes the phone against Charlotte’s cheek. Her daughter makes babbling sounds until Rory takes it back, sheepishly wishing her grandmother a merry Christmas and new pictures soon. They get dressed for lunch, Rory putting Charlotte in the Santa outfit Lorelai sewed the week before. Everyone exclaims, snapping pictures, until it all gets overwhelming for Charlotte and she starts crying. They take her for a walk to calm her down, Jess staying behind to catch up on some notes and offering to help Luke prepare dinner. Lorelai and Rory are out for more than an hour, bumping into Lane and her boys and helping them build a snowman. Rory is already exhausted when they get back, despite it still being early, and is envious of Charlotte as she puts her down for a nap. She's considering napping too but is wide awake as her phone chimes. It's Logan.

"I'll be right back," Rory says, seeing her mother in the hall. She slips out and takes a deep breath before saying, "Hi."

"Hey. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah. Merry Christmas."

There's a long pause and then Logan asks,

"You guys okay?"

"Charlotte's fine," Rory says frostily. "We both are."

"I sent her some stuff," Logan says. "It'll be there soon...I sent toys and a dress."

"Thanks."

"I hope she likes it," Logan says. He sounds sad and Rory asks, "Do you want me to send you pictures? I took a ton of Charlotte today."

"Send them later," Logan says and Rory bites her lip. For a moment she's furious but instead says, "Are you having a good day?"

"It's quiet," Logan says. "How about you?"

"The opposite."

"Right."

There's another awkward silence and then Rory says, "You know, it's been a year, Logan. Since I told you."

"I remember," Logan says. "I couldn't believe it."

Neither of them could, Rory thinks. She thinks back to sitting on his couch, the Christmas tree in the corner and the smell making her sick. It almost seemed mocking as she saw the expression on Logan’s face. He kept asking her over and over, are you sure? Rory wanted to say she wasn’t. It was the week before Christmas and it almost felt like a dream.

"Can you believe it now?" Rory asks, feeling Logan pause across the miles.

"She's here."

"Yes, but you're not."

"Do you want me to be?" Logan asks and Rory squeezes her eyes shut.

"No. That's not what I mean." She pauses and then asks, "Do you?"

"I'm married now," Logan says simply. "You said it was over."

"It is," Rory agrees. "You knew it would be. Nothing's changed."

Logan is quiet, but doesn't challenge her. Rory is trying to find more words when Logan says,

"I have to go. We're seeing Odette's family soon."

"Oh. Okay."

"Give Charlotte a kiss from me," Logan says quickly. "See you, Rory."

"Yeah. See you."

They hang up. Rory turns back and bumps into Lorelai, who's waiting by the door.

"Everything okay, sweets?" she asks. Rory is going to say yes, of course, but then suddenly she's crying, holding her mother tightly. All she's aware of is Lorelai stroking her hair and murmuring reassurance and finally Rory breaks away, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry. Man, I'm crying at Christmas, that's not allowed."

"What is it, Rory?"

"I messed up," Rory says, starting to feel herself cry again. "I've failed her."

"Rory. No."

"It's Christmas and her dad keeps her secret."

"Sometimes it's harder, on holidays," Lorelai says gently. She leads Rory to the porch swing where they sit, brushing the snow off the cushions. "I'd take you to Mom and Dad's and Christopher would be there, or he wouldn't, and it would be so hard, either way. They'd make me feel awful about not being married to Chris. Every year it was the same. Half the time we'd have a big fight."

"I remember," Rory says, sniffling, and Lorelai says, "There's no rule that you have to be happy."

"Mom," Rory says, looking up. "It's been hard. Really hard."

"I know," Lorelai says gently and Rory goes on, "Half the time I don't know what I'm doing. And I feel guilty and afraid and that it's never enough."

She starts crying again and Lorelai looks like she might cry herself.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Rory, my job is to worry about you!"

"But I don't want to feel like I can't do it," Rory says, letting Lorelai hold her. "You did it, and you were twice as young as me."

"I did it, but I had help. I was home the first year you were born, and then Mia took me in. And yes, I did most of the rest alone and I'm proud of myself, but it was hard, and it was lonely."

"But you still did it."

"And you're doing it too," Lorelai says, looking into Rory's eyes. "It's okay to find it hard. It's okay to ask for help. I am always here for you."

"I know," Rory says. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, angel. Just talk to me. Talk to me and keep loving that little girl as much as you do."

"No question on that," Rory says, managing to smile, and Lorelai squeezes her hand.

"Ready to go inside?"

They head back in and Rory hears a crying from the bedroom. She turns to go in and then stops in surprise. Jess has got there first and has lifted Charlotte up, kissing her cheeks.

"There's a girl," he says gently. "Beautiful girl."

Rory watches him for a moment, heart full, when Jess sees her and stops.

"Sorry," he says shyly. "She was crying, so -"

"It's fine," Rory says, going in. "Thanks."

Charlotte is drifting back into sleep. Rory takes her back, gently placing her into the cradle, when her eyes catch the manuscript on the desk. There's a pen on top and Rory goes over to it, seeing notes studded all over it.

"I put thoughts in the margins," Jess said sheepishly. "Had a lot to say."

"Good or bad?" Rory's tone is light but she feels embarrassed, as if she's been caught without any clothes on, and Jess insists,

"Good. It's so good, Rory."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not, I swear," he promises. "Although..."

"What?" Rory asks, heart thudding and then laughing as Jess says,

"It did not happen like that, me asking you to bail."

"Of course it did."

"I was not trying something."

"Jess, come on. We were seventeen."

"I was only trying to impress you," Jess says and they both laugh. "Maybe I was hoping for something else too. But I didn't get my black eye how you thought."

"How did you get it?"

"Come on, I'll tell you. Let's take a walk."

They walk into the hall, telling Luke they're just getting some air, and then step out. It's earlier than the night before but still quiet everywhere.

"I guess everyone's busy," Rory says. They walk silently down towards the lake, without talking, and their breath comes out in clouds.

"Still my favourite place in Stars Hollow," Jess says. "And this is where it happened."

"Luke pushing you in?"

"And getting my black eye. It was a swan."

"Excuse me?"

"It beaked me, right in the eye. It's a vicious bird!"

Rory looks at him and then laughs and laughs, Jess shaking his head, and finally Rory says,

"Well, as long as we're telling things, I devil egged your car."

"I knew it," Jess says, rolling his eyes. "That's not exactly a secret."

"Guess we were both hoodlums," Rory chuckles. "Man, it all feels like forever ago."

"I think there's still a little hoodlum in us," Jess says, smiling. "Beneath growing up."

Rory nods, but she feels sad, suddenly, and then Jess takes her hand.

"Hey," he says, looking into her eyes. "It'll be okay."

"I know," Rory says quietly. "Thanks."

He squeezes her hand, using his other to brush the hair out of her eyes and Rory steps closer to him. A thrill is in her, unannounced, and Jess breaks their silence by saying weakly, "This is the part in the movie where the guy lifts out the mistletoe."

"No mistletoe?" Rory guesses and he nods. "No mistletoe."

"Doesn't matter," Rory breathes, and she is leaning forward, and suddenly she and Jess are kissing, out on the lake on Christmas Day. They kiss, soft then heavy, and then Jess steps back and says, "I didn't plan that. I'm sorry."

"Me either. I - don't be sorry."

"I wasn't going to kiss you," Jess says and Rory nods. "I know. It's okay."

"It's okay?" Jess asks and Rory smiles. She's dazed, the day is shining, and says,

"Yes, it is."

"I kissed you," Jess says. He sounds in shock and Rory says, "I kissed you too."

They walk back silently, glancing at each other now and then. Rory doesn't know what it means, but for now it's Christmas. Jess has to drive back anyway. He hugs Luke, takes another opportunity to call Lorelai his aunt, and gives Charlotte an extra cuddle and kiss. He kisses Rory on the cheek this time, nodding, and they wave goodbye as he drives.

"What was that all about?" Lorelai asks and Rory tries not to blush.

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"I swear..."

Lorelai looks disbelieving but she goes to pick out more movies for tonight. Rory picks up the set of books Jess bought for Charlotte and takes them into the room. She puts them on the desk next to the manuscript and then stops. There's a note on top which wasn't there before, and she reads,

Rory,

You don't think you can do it but you can. You can do anything. This writing shows more than I knew was there. I always knew you could do it. Charlotte is lucky to have a mom like you. If you ever want to talk to me, about anything, I'm here for you. Always. I really didn't plan on kissing you, but I'm not sorry we did. If you don't want to do anything though, I understand. I'm leaving now but if you want to talk to me, you can call. You know that.

Merry Christmas, Rory.

Jess.

Rory reads the note again and again, her heart thudding. The thrill is back, an excitement she hasn't felt in months. She doesn't know what it means, but for now it doesn't matter. She pushes aside the curtain, opens the window and breathes in the mystery of the Christmas night.

Note: The book Rory references is ‘Into the Forest’ by Jean Hegland

#Gilmore Girls #AGilmorechristmas #rory gilmore #jess mariano #literati

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youre-on-a-starship · 7 years

Text

Prompt: “ could you write a soulmate au with scotty? maybe with the red string trope and the tugs get in the way of during his job properly but he just ignores it? :))” - @nymphadora-blurryface

Word Count: 2,865

Author’s Note: AKA: 5 Times Scotty Ignored His String and 1 Time He Didn’t. Because I’m a sucker for those stories. I loved writing this so much. Scotty is such a sweet, precious little bean and having him slowly fall in love with someone like this was just so beautiful to explore. Please enjoy and a always please let me know what you think! Your feedback is precious to me <3

Scotty’s arm gave a violent jolt over the strategy table. He grimaced a reigned his errant limb back in, clasping his hands tightly behind his back.

“Christ,” he hissed, trying to regain his train of thought.

“You all good, Mr. Scott?” Jim asked in that shiteating way he does when he knows damn well that it’s not all good.

“Jus’ ignore it, Sir, I’m trying to,” Scotty retorted, shuffling his feet and sniffing. “Now, as I was saying -”

“Best not to ignore it too long, Mr. Scott,” Jim said with a tip of his head.

“Aye, now as I was saying…”

“Meester Scott, I voss vondering, vhere vould I find - Are you alright?” Chekov appeared in the doorway, his yellow shirt stained with wide smears of grease.

Scotty sat at his desk, one hand over his eyes, the other arm stretched aloft at an odd angle.

“Aye, lad, what are ye lookin’ for?” Scotty let the hand over his eyes fall to his thigh as he looked up at his apprentice.

“Um… Meester Scott…”

“‘S been like this for nigh on twenty minutes,” Scotty griped. “I can’ take it down.”

“Um… should I raise ze Doctor, or…?”

“I’m sure it’ll go away if I wait,” Scotty said, standing and approaching the doorway. The angle of his arm didn’t waver, but he was able to move freely otherwise.

“I vonder vat zey’re doing…” Chekov mused.

“I prefer not to think about it,” Scotty clapped the young Russian on the shoulder. “Now, wha’ are ya lookin’ for?”

Scotty sighed heavily, sitting back on his haunches to wait it out. He was attempting to calibrate a capacitor in the medbay, but every five to ten seconds this string would twitch and his hand would be thrown off course. Rather than get wounded in the line of duty, he looked down at the string as it jerked this way and that. His mind wandered to what his soulmate might be doing but he shook his head. He’s seen better men than he become consumed by what the person on the other end might be doing, might look like, when they might finally meet, the whole gambit of thoughts, and he couldn’t let himself stray down that route. After all, who would look after the Enterprise if he got too distracted to perform his job? Granted, he was doing some job now… And anyway, the resupply was imminent, he could deal with it then.

The string tugged again and then fell still.

“Finally,” he grumbled, picking up his instruments again and getting back into the console.

His string didn’t move for nearly four days and although Scotty was elated with the amount of work he’d managed to complete uninterrupted, a tiny voice at the back of his head began to worry. Had something happened? Was he getting too far away again? The movement didn’t even start to happen until he got to the Enterprise off Delta Vega; the first jerk as he was drying his hair nearly gave him a heart attack.

And then Kirk’s words came back to him.

“Best not to ignore it too long, Mr. Scott.”

Had he waited too long?

The guilt pang in his chest made him lift his fingers to the string and give it a small tug. He waited and rubbed it between his fingertips, for the first time willing it to move in return.

The string tugged gently. Not enough force to move his hand, but enough to let him know his soulmate was still out there.

He smiled softly, returning to the PADD he discarded on the desk.

The clock struck three in the morning and the string pulled again.

Scotty looked down at the mattress where he’d discarded his arm when the activity began earlier in the evening. It wasn’t getting any earlier.

He stood from his bed and pulled on his boots and a thermal workout jacket. Lifting the string in one hand, he started to gather it between his fingers as he followed it.

He ended up in the hall and for once was actually getting somewhere. He followed the string around the corner and then his heart sank as he saw it dissolve into nothingness three meters down.

“Ach, for the love of…” Scotty grumbled as the string tugged at his wrist. For the past few days the red thing had gotten excessively active and thus was impeding his work more than usual.

He balanced on a rung in the Jefferies tube, considering whether or not to get out and try once again to go looking for the other end. After several midnight ventures, he was starting to become certain that wherever his soulmate was, they weren’t on this ship.

Just as Scotty put his hand back in the panel to keep working, his string gave another sharp tug.

Tucking his screwdriver into his tool belt, he took the string in his fingers and pulled three times in quick succession.

Seconds ticked by before the string tugged him back three times.

The corner of Scotty’s mouth turned up and his heart leapt into his chest. The string was moving again in short and long pulls. That couldn’t be…

N-A-M-E.

He gaped at his wrist long enough that the message repeated itself.

N-A-M-E.

Scotty shook his head and racked his brain to remember the full alphabet.

S-C-O-T-T-Y.

A long, heart-numbing pause ensued.

Y/N.

Scotty laughed out loud.

“Y/N! Tha’s brilliant! Ye’ve go’ a name!” he exclaimed, looking around the tube self-consciously before wiping at the beads of sweat on his forehead. Then he had another idea.

Y-O-R-K-T-O-W-N.

He nearly cried at the response.

Y-O-R-K-T-O-W-N.

2 D-A-Y-S, he responded.

1 D-A-Y S-E-E Y-O-U S-O-O-N.

Grinning ear to ear, Scotty stuffed his hands back into the console and damn near started whistling as he resumed his work.

Just as Scotty finished buttoning his shirt the string started tugging again.

H-E-R-E Y-E-T.

A-Y-E. He smiled down at this wrist, rubbing the thread against his skin, wondering what it would feel like when it finally disappeared.

W-H-E-R-E.

Scotty looked down at the street below with a soft smile playing on his lips.

F-I-N-D M-E, he responded. He couldn’t let the adventure fade quite yet.

Y-O-U-R-E O-N.

Taking one last look in the mirror, Scotty sighed. If he did say so himself, he looked good. He pulled out all the stops: his best fitting navy trousers, a gold and red paisley shirt, and the jacket that matched the pants lay on the bed. He bothered to run some product through his hair and pat on a touch of aftershave.

Picking the jacket up from the mattress, he swung it over his shoulder and sauntered out the door.

At street level he put on his jacket and picked the string between his fingers, following it down the sidewalk.

He couldn’t help but smile at every person he passed, wondering which one would finally be you.

You danced down the sidewalk, feeling like a new person in your outfit. Your soulmate, Scotty - they had a name! - only arrived today which gave you a whole day of shore leave to get ready. Naturally, this meant a new ensemble and some fresh eau de cologne since your old stock got a little musty in the closet over the past nine months.

The string on your wrist started to tug.

E-X-C-I-T-E-D.

You grinned. Could they tell you were dancing?

There was a long, soft pull.

You took more concerted steps forward, passing by one of the impressive water features that blew water straight up into the air.

W-H-E-R-E, you tugged back.

W-A-T-E-R.

You looked down at the red string where it trailed along the railing blocking the pedestrians from the pond. It stretched for as far as you could see, which was more than you usually got. Generally, the string showed for six inches and faded into nothing, but lately, the closer you got to Yorktown, the more the string showed and now there it went off around the corner and… there.

Your jaw dropped. A man, slim and sure of himself, wandered along the waterfront in a striking navy suit with a colourful button down underneath and your string securely wrapped around his wrist. He was smiling at everyone he passed, an honest smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

It happened in a second. He looked at you, his eyes meeting yours across the last few meters and the string pulled suddenly violently taught, making you falter.

You gasped but you followed it as it reeled you in. Scotty picked up his pace too, following his arm as the string pulled him toward you.

Your hands met in thin air and the string dissolved, all the tension going with it. You looked up into his friendly eyes, so warmly blue, and you actually laughed. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“Hi!” you said.

“Hi yerself,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you with that smile, although now it was blown clear across his face, his whole self lighting up.

“You’re Scottish,” you blurted, dropping a hand to your face, embarrassed at your lack of finesse.

“Aye,” he said with a chuckle, pulling back enough to offer you his hand. “Scotty.”

“Y/N,” you said, taking his hand. He didn’t shake it, he just held it. His palm was just sweaty enough that you could tell he was nervous, even if his smile didn’t betray it. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he pressed his lips together and pulled back more to take your entire body in. “It’s so good to meet you. I’ve go’ so many questions.”

“Me too,” you said, tightening your hold on his fingers. “You’ve got a beautiful smile.”

“You’re beautiful,” Scotty efused, pulling you back into a hug. “Le’s go somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he said, unwrapping one of his arms from you and leading you back down the boardwalk the way you came. “So, who are ya, where do ya serve? Ye’re Starfleet, ri’?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, looping your own arm around his waist, thankful that he put you so much at ease. “I’m on the Bradbury just now, recent transfer. Well, relatively recent, we left port nine months ago, but still. I’m head of communications.”

“Tha’s brilliant, I guess tha’s why ya though’ of morse code?”

“It just came to me,” you blushed. “Who are you?”

“Oh, righ’, uh, Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineer on the Enterprise.”

“Oh,” you blushed again, suddenly self-conscious. “I’ve heard of you.”

“Have ya?” he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You invented that classified transwarp equation, right? My CE won’t stop talking about it, she’s been trying to replicate it for years.”

“‘S no’ tha’ hard really,” he shook his head. “Well, no’ after I figured it out, anyway.

“Modest,” you grinned, looking up to see him start to turn pink. “It's so nice to meet you finally.”

He looked down at you, slowing his pace to a stop.

“How long have you been feeling it?” he asked, turning to face you, curling you into the circle of his arms.

“The first time was at the academy. I was a year behind all the cadets who went up during the Nerada incident and I had to stay behind and watch with all the other underlings while half the graduating class was…” you shook your head. “Anyway, my cohort holed up in the comms labs and we were just listening when I suddenly felt this… this tug. I didn't know what it was at first, but I suppose it was you.”

Scotty grinned again, impossibly wider.

“Ya know,” he said, “I beamed onto the Enterprise midwarp that day. Straight into water reclamation.”

“Nice aim.”

“Nae, li’ into one of the tanks.”

“Oh,” you raised your eyebrows.

“Aye, so I had to dry off, ri’? I felt it then. Tore the damn towel ri’ off my head.”

“Sorry,” you said, reaching out and touching his arm with your fingertips. “Sorry, I just still can’t believe you’re real.”

Scotty blinked, pressing his lips together before he brought a hand to the back of your head and tucked your face into the crook of his neck, swaying back and forth with the pressure of his hug.

“What do you do for fun?” he asked, pulling back to look at you.

You laughed once, trying to hide the sarcasm.

“Work, mostly. I’m always up for an adventure. This is my first time here, have you been before?”

“Aye, an’ I know a place. Come on,” he took your hand and pulled you along the sidewalk past a skyward jet of water.

You lay back on Scotty’s chest on the chaise longue. The rooftop patio was lit up by intermittent pot lights; Yorktown’s daytime cycle ended a few hours ago. The pair of you looked up at the sky, a tumbler of scotch in his hand and a hot blueberry tea in yours.

“When do ya ship out?” he murmured.

“I’ve got another six days,” you said, turning your head so you could brush the collar of his jacket with your nose. “I’m not obligated to be anywhere until the last day to double check the manifests for my department, but we don’t really have a lot of stock coming in, so I can imagine that won’t take more than a few hours. You?”

“I’ve go’ another three days on tha’,” he said, taking a sip of his scotch and sighing at the burn. “Enterprise is a bloody big ship.”

“That she is,” you agreed, inconspicuously inhaling his scent. “What do you want to do now?”

“How do ya mean?”

“Well, do we want to do long distance while we get to know each other, or should one of us put in a request? Cause if you want, I’d be happy to volunteer; it’s a pay cut, sure, I’m sure you've got a great head of comms, but serving on the Enterprise herself would be worth it…”

“I don’ wanna tear you away, though,” Scotty protested. “Mind, I’ve never been good at the whole ‘long distance’ thing… I ge’ antsy, ya know? Nervous.”

You hummed and turned your whole body so you could skim your elbow down his side to the back of the chair and push yourself up to look down at him. His whole face changed from here. When he looked up the lines around his eyes softened and he looked almost innocent, his lips falling just slightly apart.

“I’m happy to put in a request,” you said, watching his pupils dilate as your breath cascaded over his face. “It’ll probably be three or four months yet until they can honour it, bureaucracy and all that jazz, but they always follow through in these situations.”

“Tha’ll give us time,” Scotty agreed, pressing his free hand to the small of your back.

“Have you…” you started. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Course.”

“Have you been with anyone else?”

Scotty blinked up at you, letting his eyes fall to your waist before coming back up to meet yours.

“A few. Just messing around, ya know? I mean, I knew it didn’t mean anything...”

“Me, too,” you crinkled your nose. “I mean, I’ve been with a couple people. Just passing time, you know?”

“Aye,” you watched his eyes glass over as he looked up at you before he swallowed. “Ye’re really beautiful, you know that?”

You felt the heat rise up your face.

“You’re a charmer, Mr. Scott.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I guess we’re going to have to some time,” you said with a quirk of your lips before you dipped your head and laid your lips on his, letting the alcohols mingle on your tongues and build a bridge between you. He smelled so good. You set your drink down on the table next to the chair and laid your warmed hand against his cheek. He moaned, just quietly, but enough that you felt the vibrations on your flesh.

You pulled back and watched the colour rise in his face as he savoured the sensation. It took him a moment to open his eyes.

“What now?” you asked, settling back on his chest and recapturing your drink from the table.

“This city never truly stops,” Scotty said, swirling his scotch around. “We can stay out as long as we please. We can stay righ’ here if ya like. Or, I mean, if you want to…”

“Which barracks are you in?” you asked, craning your neck to look at him upside down.

“C block. You?”

“N. I’m closer.”

“Shall we finish these and go back to yours?” Scotty suggested, gently clinking his tumbler against your mug.

“I’d like that,” you grinned as Scotty pecked your temple. You unbent your neck and let your head rest on his collarbone while you sipped your drink, watching the stars twinkle above you. Scotty’s free hand wrapped around your waist and captured one of yours, twining your fingers together and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He let out a contented sigh and you snuggled back into him, relishing the newness of his warmth.

#montgomery scott #scotty #soulmate au #soulmate #scotty x reader

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roidespd-blog · 5 years

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Chapter One : THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA

WHAT IS THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA ?

A term that has been thrown around by many as a counterpart to the birth of the Gay Rights Movement in 1968. Because you see, whenever a vital force comes to the scene and thrives, its equal in destruction must rise as well. Some kind of cosmic YING and YANG. The term itself, known also as the Gay Agenda, officially emerged in 1992 through a Californian Christian Organization called Springs of Life Ministries in a series of… well let’s call them propaganda videos against the immoral life choices of gay people. That very same year, a Christian political activist organization used those videos for their campaign to prevent special rights for gays, lesbians and bisexuals.

The Gay Agenda was officially in the American Zeitgeist.

You’re gonna ask me : why did they wait 24 years to counter attack the Queer Movement of the late 60s with a wonderfully catchy name like THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA ? (Admit it, name-wise, it’s damn good).

Well, as I was researching the origins of this term, I came across what, in my opinion, constitutes the foundation of America’s (and therefore, the World) fear towards the rise of legal rights for queer people : a 1987 essay by Marshall Kirk called « The Overhauling of Straight America ». (1) (which I believe was itself inspired by « The Protocols of the learned Elders of Zion »). (2) I have a lot of things to say about this article that would take another full article and would also be quite pointless as it needs to be contextualized to a very angry spirit of 1987 Anti-Gay America, but I will sum up Kirk’s thoughts. In this article, Kirk tries to put together a new way of attacking the social and political system that puts the community on the verge of extinction. He makes it very clear that the way things are being handled is wrong and new tactics are necessary for the advancement of the cause. Here are the six mains points of this new way of thinking :

1. TALK ABOUT GAYS AND GAYNESS AS LOUDLY AND AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE 2. PORTRAY GAYS AS VICTIMS, NOT AS AGGRESSIVE CHALLENGERS. 3. GIVE PROTECTORS A JUST CAUSE. 4. MAKE GAYS LOOK GOOD. 5. MAKE THE VICTIMIZERS LOOK BAD. 6. SOLICIT FUNDS : THE BUCK STOPS HERE.

Plus a whole other sets or rules and alphabet letters for getting ourselves known to the public in a new and more conventional (conventional as not-so-threatening) image.

First appearing on Guide Magazine, the article is not entirely wrong on its views and strategies — although we are still debating as of right now as what is the best way to represent Queer people to the public. I struggle with this everyday, proof of an internal psychodrama based on fears and lack of proper footing in the world… We’ll talk about that another time, ‘kay ?

The main problem with the article is the way it was presented to the straight white man who read it : as a insidious installation of difference in its system. Gay people will try to appear straighter, go incognito and fade to the background to get more acceptance and more rights. Something that did not fly with Christian groups. So came the new stigmatization of Queer people with what seems to be America’s favorite obsession : Conspiracy Theory.

Conspiracy theory A belief that some covert but influential organization is responsible for an unexplained event.

I also have a very, very, VERY definition of the Homosexual Agenda from a very, very, VERY funny site called Conservapedia (3)

« The Homosexual Agenda is a self-centered set of beliefs and objectives designed to promote and mandate approval of homosexuality and its ideology in society, along with the strategies used to implement such. The goals and means of this movement include INDOCTRINATING STUDENTS IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS, restricting the free speech of the opposition, obtaining SPECIAL TREATMENT for homosexuals, DISTORTING BIBLICAL TEACHING AND SCIENCE and interfering with freedom of association » It also states « THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA IS THE BIGGEST THREAT TO THE RIGHTS OF THE FREE SPEECH AND RELIGIOUS FREEDOM TODAY ». Honestly, if you can take a step back and not throw up, it’s pretty funny to read. Then you remember that thousands of young people try and mostly likely succeed in killing themselves because of those beliefs and it’s quite hard to take a step back. Now, I’d like to talk to you about Paul Cameron in a segment called « Portrait of a Demon »

PAUL CAMERON PORTRAIT OF A DEMON

Born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1939, raised in Florida, educated by Californian colleges and a proud owner of a PHD from a university of Colorado, Paul Cameron is an evil man. IS cause that cunt is still alive. After working on somewhat interesting researches from the effects of passive smoking and the relation between pet ownership and happiness, he associated himself with a little group called … Spring of Life Ministries. Remember those ?

Cameron appeared in one of their fun little videos and through « science », argued that 75 percent of gay men regularly ingested feces and that 70 to 78 percent have had a sexually transmitted disease. He emphasized through more « research » the harms caused by homosexual behavior and by its acceptance from the general public. For that, he used the same rhetoric as his passive smokers research : even though you are not a practitioner, accepting it around your personal space might cause you (and society) to die. He also said that he started feeling sexual attraction to men at age three, was molested by a male at 4 and became heterosexual at 8 or 9 years of age. Sure. I can also talk about his need to associate pedophilia with homosexuality through pamphlets made by the Family Research Institute or that one of their conclusions was that a homosexual teacher could influence their students to become homosexual (4).

I can talk about the « accomplishments » and « contributions to science » of this guy all day, but keep that one sentence in mind : Paul Cameron is a CUNT that helped construct the idea that homosexuality should not be adopted by the general public as « normal » and that gay people will destroy society. He partly created the Homosexual Agenda bullshit and he can go suck a bag of dicks.

So HOW DO WE FIGHT THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA ? The Concerned Women of America (5) has the answer in 11 points for us. 01. Share the life-changing gospel of Jesus Chris with a homosexual. (Someone tried that one on me, once. He did not work, unfortunately).

02. Educate your family, co-workers, and friends about the homosexual agenda. (Just like I’m doing right now ? I rock! Good for me!)

03. Confront media bias. (And tell them all about our entirely anti-gay non-bias opinions from God.)

04. Call your representatives. (RuPaul, Neil Patrick Harris, Ellen, Laverne Cox and Kirsten Stewart, right ?)

05. Reach children and students with the truth. (Before homosexual pedophiles, or more commonly known as just pedophiles can get the fairy hands on them.)

06. Talk to your pastor. (Did you know that 7th Heaven’s Stephen Collins admitted to sexually abusing three different underage girls ? But that’s not the same. He was a Reverent on the show, so whatever.)

07. Speak out against « sexual orientation » laws. (No marriage, no benefits, no protection, no peeing in public bathrooms, no service in any establishments for you, faggots and friends!)

08. Lobby corporations and do shareholder activism. (Sure, because queer people are not consumers and they will not affect the market by their disappearance AT ALL.)

09. Pray and take « direct action » (Wait, wait, wait. Those are two different things. What direct actions are you referring to ? You’re starting to sound like a Christian Heterosexual Agenda.)

10. Call or write the President. (It also says « Urge the President to be a moral leader ». Not sure your President will truly help on that department.)

11. Support pro-family organizations that are fighting on your behalf. (The fight is never over. Power to the STRAIGHT MORAL PEOPLE!)

Ladies. Gentlemen. Everyone else in between and beyond.

There is no Homosexual Agenda. We’re talking about a HUMAN AGENDA concerning Queer People. We wake up, just like you. We drink coffee, just like you. We eat. We drink. We shit. Just like you. We like the same music. We watch the same movies. We take the same trips. We deserve the same respect and protection. Just like you do. There’s a lot of talk about differences and community and normalization. Forget about those clichés (which we will talk about later) and those fears you have. The only agenda we have is to live. And sometimes eat tacos.

I’ll leave you with a counter definition of the HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA by our friends from the RationalWiki page (6) :

« The Homosexual Agenda (…) is a metaphorical boogeyman created by the Religious Right in the United States. The agenda’s slimy lavender appendages are trying to infiltrate and corrupt every facet of traditional American culture, most notably family values. The prime purpose for the metaphor is to give LGBT rights a shady, vicious and fictional purpose and thus keep it dehumanized »

See also : « Gay Revolutionary » by Michael Swift (7) (1)http://library.gayhomeland.org/0018/EN/EN_Overhauling_Straight.htm

(2)https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Protocols_of_the_Elders_of_Zion

(3)https://www.conservapedia.com/Homosexual_Agenda

(4)https://www.westword.com/news/slay-it-with-a-smile-5056730

(5)https://concernedwomen.org/images/content/11ways.pdf

(6)https://rationalwiki.org/wiki/Homosexual_agenda

(7)https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/pwh/swift1.asp

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soap-brain · 7 years

Text

oooo so i got tagged by both @elroymarvelous (something like a week ago i’m so sorry) and @greetings-from-the-suffer-puppet (yesterday :p) to do this alphabet questions thing! let’s go!!

a - age: 19

b - birthplace: düsseldorf, nrw (it’s in germany) (it’s the best city in germany) (95 olé)

c - current time: 11:38 am

d - drink you had last: some neat sparkling water, also i pretended to drink chips rings but they’re solid so idk whether that counts

e - easiest person to talk to: @greetings-from-the-suffer-puppet , cause we have somehow absolutely /no/ need for filters and we’ve talked about some things we would never, ever talk about with other people :D (hey ryn, remember the scintillating convo we had recently involving chrispy? good times) and also @loststarlight bc she’s a very bad person who got me into a ship and enables me to write fic for it and sends me unacceptable photo posts and totally made me watch doom!! which i didn’t want to do.. at.. all *sweats nervously and holds hand over pocket that’s def not bulging with karl pics... and bruce... and chrispy...*

f - favorite song: atm it’s a tie between sabotage by the beastie boys and ..... every time we touch by cascada (look, i’m technically a rock person, but sometimes it’s midnight, you’ve had about 5hrs of sleep every night, you know you have at least one more hour of super complicated chemistry to do, you’ve had a long ass day, you’re really hungry, just had a bowl of cereal and are fast approaching an ultra sugar high. what better to party with than that song??)

g - grossest memory: story time! during grades 9-12, i sometimes liked walking home instead of doing the hour long tram and bus ride. idk, it was a self reflection / relaxing thing, which i still kinda do. there was a short tunnel i had to go through. nothing scary, it was literally just the street and a pavement on each side, it was short, well lit, in an okay neighborhood, there were frequently people around etc. so really, really, not scary / gross. one day i’m walking and i see a guy of maybe my age coming towards me ahead of me, so i go to one side of the pavement, while he goes to the other, i’m doing the staring ahead thing which will morph into a lightning quick checking the other person over thing once we pass each other. it’s a thing i do. so we’re just about to pass each other, and he pushes up his tee shirt (it was summer/spring) and ... there’s just... his erection. which he consciously shows to me. and he says something which i didn’t hear cause i’m listening to music, but i do physically recoil a little, my shoulder brushes the tunnel wall but i keep walking, pretending nothing happened, and i remember thinking to myself “the fact that you know now that you won’t believe yourself later that you didn’t make this up is the only thing that’ll make you believe it really happened.”, and just because i know i thought that then already, i believe myself that i didn’t make it up cause man, i kinda wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. and that’s the story of the first ever real life erection i saw! yay! now you know things about me you didn’t want to know!

h - horror yes or no: noooooo pls i get scared easily. even bad horror movies (ie doom) can scare me a bit. esp jumpscares??? the worst imo

i - in love?: nah. never been, either *shrug emoji*

j - jealous of people?: klasjdlfjasdlf i get really jealous of how people manage to socially interact with such ease?? and just... talk to other people and aren’t awkward and make friends?? a wild concept

k - killed someone?: ok so i know we should all either answer something cool and quirky or no!! of course not!! but i have a story. (fuck ok now y’all think i actually killed a person. disclaimer: i didn’t. but i was close) ok so i was doing my three months mandatory nurse work for studying medicine, and around the second month there was this old lady (93yo i think), who’d just gotten i think a new hip? and before her op she was surprisingly mobile with her walking frame and just really cute and chipper and also scared of her op. afterwards, she went to the icu, as was scheduled bc she was so old, and and then she got back to her regular station, and she was slowly but surely learning how to sit up and stand up again and then also walk. she had major pain problems and her leg had gotten stiff, but she really was a champ, and i really liked her. also, to make some infusions (ie pain meds) easier, she’d gotten a central venous catheter, ie a catheter into the vein right at the bottom of her neck. and then it was time to take it out bc she’d gotten so much better, and there was a doctor there and i was just doing some work or something in the same room (i think we just got done helping the patient dress), and the doctor knew i wanted to study medicine, so she asked me whether i wanted to take it out with her help. i said yes, and then the doctor got a call and took it and told me to go ahead and detach the iv drip line from the catheter. which i did. then i waited for the doctor to finish her call to tell me the next step. she was done just as the patient started feeling faint and started to lose feeling in the arm on the side the central venous catheter was in. long story short, she was rushed to the icu again, because what i didn’t know was that you had to close the catheter, and i’d essentially pulled off the stopper as well, and she ended up having no blood in certain parts of her brain, which i think ended up as a terminal condition for her. she lived, but she had a very, very hard time getting better again and i think she never fully recovered. so. yeah. that’s my story on how i almost killed a person.

l - love at first sight or should I walk past again?: definitely walk past again :D looks and mannerism can be very deceiving

m - middle name: inge brigitte

n - number of siblings: 2

o - one wish: to get my shit together lmao

p - person i called last: i think my dad?? about photoshop?

q - question you’re always asked: probably about my one weird tooth maybe? or what i did between school and uni

r - reason to smile: getting messages / people willingly interacting with me, horses, when life is going good, when i can be proud of myself for a reason, when there’s music making me feel good things, star trek

s - song you last sang: i don’t sing. i’d sometimes like to, but i feel too awkward cause i’ve been told that i can’t sing at all, so like...

t - time you woke up: 6:47 am the first time, then sometime around 8

u - underwear color: white

v - vacation: this probably ties in with all the “places you wanna visit” ask games, so the answer has to be most of europe, northern america, iceland, australia, parts of asia, parts of africa, space, berlin

w - worst habit: picking at my skin.... and procrastinating!

y - your favorite food: well my fave meal would be garlic bread, a medium steak with fries and beans and either lava cake or crème brûlée for dessert, along with an apple martini; but my fav normal food would be spaghetti bolognese and ... chocolate-y sweets (and truffles. oh boy i want some truffles now)

z - zodiac: libra

i’m tagging @loststarlight, @chameleon-kirk, @bottomkirk, @mccoysbi, @lieutenant-sapphic, @trappist-1p and everyone else who wants to do this!! esp all my new followers - if you wanna do this, tag me so i can get to know y’all!!

#captains log #tag games

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kingbrunnhilde · 8 years

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A Massive Spones Rec List

The Spones fandom is made up of some of the most talented people but is tiny and in need of more content. Due to this fact, there are significantly less Spones fics so I searched extra hard to compile a good, lengthy list of fics.. and somehow managed to find way more fics than I did for my Mckirk one?? Why am I such trash, help I need a life.

(Listed alphabetically: ** = favourite)

Addressed to the Damn Doctor by ElloPoppet | 2.5k, T

Spock writes McCoy a letter of confession, despite not quite knowing how to write a love letter. (A super sweet insight into Spock’s mind, especially on his thoughts on the Enterprise’s resident doctor.)

Best Medicine for the Worst Patient by gammadolphin | 8.5k, T

It’s a special kind of hell, becoming obsessed with the laughter of a man who barely even smiles unless he’s high or dying of blood loss. Leonard doesn’t handle it particularly well. (A hilariously frustrating fic in which Bones becomes a little too obsessed with trying to hear Spock laugh just once more.)

Blues March by IntuitivelyFortuitous | 7k, T

Leonard McCoy sees his friends bleed. He loves the blood when it is inside them, flushing their cheeks and warming their skin. When it colors his hands on the operating table, he can think of little but the time he has with them, and a minute is too long to waste. He’s not going to let Spock get away that easily. (Gruesome and sad yet somehow really sweet.)

The Body by therev | 13k, T

McCoy’s consciousness is transferred into an android body after a fatal accident. Spock helps him remember the man he used to be. (Wow a really creative and fascinating fic that could have gone totally wrong if it hadn’t been written by such a talented author.)

Body Temperature by MaidenofIron157 | 4.5k, G

Average Vulcan body temperature is approximately 8.6 degrees lower than humans’. It is only logical that Spock would eventually become cold within his lover’s quarters. The doctor comes up with a solution. (The blanket cocoon, the clothes sharing, Spock being in love with Leonard’s scent.. asdfghjkl too adorable to handle.)

Compassion Is a Virtue (But I Don’t Have the Time) by therev | 5k, E

McCoy and Spock switch bodies. Things get out of hand. (I love the way the author addresses the difference between human and Vulcan physiology. And you know, there’s also some sexy times too if you’re into that sort of thing.)

Do Vulcans Dream of Electric Doctors? by Neigedens | 4k, T

“It’s probably not even your fault, Spock,” he muttered. “I was probably destined to go mad in space some day anyway. You probably just made the process a lot more efficient. How typical.” Dr. McCoy has got Vulcan on the brain. Set during “The Search for Spock.” (The usual Spones banter but whilst sharing the same brain. Bonus: dream sharing.)

The Edge of Never by therev | 17k, T

Alternate ending to “City On The Edge of Forever”. Edith Keeler didn’t die. Jim couldn’t let her. The triumvirate are trapped in the past with an altered future. Jim must correct his mistake while Spock and Bones get domestic. Set in 1930s New York and rural Georgia. Mostly pining of the space doctor variety. (I didn’t know I needed domestic 30s Spones until I read this omg. And don’t let the 'slow build’ turn you off because it’s so worth it.)

Everything About You by sleepymccoy | 2.5k, G

A minor transporter accident has Bones and Scotty squabbling about safety while Spock watches. Spock gets lost in his own thoughts, thinking about his relationship with Bones. (‘Vulcans don’t get distracted,’ you say? Well you’re wrong because they can and the results can be incredibly adorable.)

Familiar by starstrung | 3.5k, T

The Romulans really need to stop shooting at their artificial gravity systems. (Almost like four ficlets in one if you will. All super heartwarming and nicely come together at the end. So well written!)

** Feigned Intimacy by IntuitivelyFortuitous | 4k, T

Jim was playing matchmaker again and McCoy was not happy about it. The fact that he had to spend the rest of the evening clinging to Spock like a damsel in distress was bad enough, but teaching him how to act like they were together? It’d be easier to cure Denobulan malaria. (Fake dating fics are hard to get right but this one is by far the best I’ve ever read. It’s so soft and sweet and fits TOS really well.)

Five Times Spock Was Interrupted While Trying to Confess His Love for McCoy and One Time He Wasn’t by therev | 3.5k, T

To be fair, he could have tried a lot harder, or spoken a bit faster. (One of the greatest 5+1 fics. And bonus points for that summary lol.)

Fragment by babel | 2.5k, T

McCoy deals with the aftermath of his mind meld with Spock in the mirror universe. (Post TOS ep “Mirror, Mirror”. Haunting but beautifully so.)

Insight by JiM | 4k, T

McCoy is the one who’s blind, but Spock has been slow to see. (Just. Excellent.)

** In Sickness… by mymetalphantom | 6k, G

Spock gets ill and not only does he have to deal with the illness, he also has to contend with his troublesome Human side. (Omg soft & sick Spock with a concerned Bones is just too cute I can’t deal. Also, the writing is incredible.)

In Vino Veritas by black_tea | 3k T

Bones over indulges at Jim’s party and ends up losing his impulse control thus forcing him to face the truth of the situation between himself and his Vulcan shipmate. (Post-Beyond fics are the absolute best and this one hits all the right spots. AND there’s an great sequel in which Spones goes swimming. Niceee.)

Last to Know by Dizzydodo | 19k, T

When Leonard is fatally injured, Spock attempts to save him with a bond. Unfortunately, Leonard mistakes this for an act of duty, and all Spock’s hints to the contrary go unnoticed. (The way the author wrote the bond as well as these two’s relationship was excellent.)

Long Last Night by Vera_DragonMuse | 23k, M

The sense of a long last night over civilization is back again. -Norman Mailer Two years after a terrible virus wipes out most of the world’s population, McCoy tries to keep mind and body together. Modern Post-Apocalypse AU. (I’m not a huge fan of post-apocalyptic stories but ohh boy I was completely sold on this one. Extremely well written and great characterization. Highly recommended!)

Nothing But Halves by therev | 11k, T

McCoy wishes he could talk to Spock’s human half. After a transporter malfunction, he can. (One Spock, two Spock.. Great fic that delves into Bones discovering Spock’s struggles with his human and Vulcan halves and how they’re not as different as they may seem.)

One Little Mistletoe Kiss by tprillahfiction | 1.5k, T

Spock and McCoy eat Christmas cookies and kiss under the mistletoe, Spock/McCoy style which means bickering and McCoy complaining and swearing. (SO HEARTWARMING. TOO MUCH FLUFF LET ME LIVE.)

Our Doubts Make Us Traitors by LogicalBookThief | 5k, T

Dealing with what did and didn’t occur on Altamid leaves McCoy incapable of sleeping. Paying his most recent patient a visit seems to be the only cure. (What can I say? I just really love post-Beyond fics.)

Perfectly Logical by Zauzat | 4k, T

Kirk has had enough of Spock and McCoy’s public squabbles. He orders them to sort it out. He just doesn’t anticipate the solution they come up with. (Love the way the author handled both mind melds and the boys’ relationship. A+)

The Placebo Effect by IntuitivelyFortuitous | 3k, T

Alright, maybe he should listen to Spock more often. Maybe he should not drink everything that gets put in front of him. In his defense, it was purple and sparkly no human with a decent sense of curiosity could resist at least a sip. He didn’t expect it to give him a sixth sense, though. (A really original and creative fic that’s also hilariously well written. Loved it.)

** Satisfactory by Damalur | 5.5k, G

Advancing in a relationship with Leonard McCoy only seems logical, particularly after Spock hears that the good doctor carried his katra in another life. (My first and possibly favourite Spones fic. Well characterized, hilarious, and sweet.)

something borrowed, something new by kojafras | 1k, NR (I’d say G)

Spock gives Leonard a tracking device. Leonard is less than thrilled. (A hilariously adorable post-Beyond fic that captures their relationship perfectly.)

Somewhere Only We Know by sullacat | 14k, M

Spock and McCoy find themselves thrust into a new world and a new life. Can they work together to find their way home - or is being lost the best thing that ever happened to them? Reboot of Star Trek: The Next Generation episode 'The Inner Light’. (Wow such an amazing AU. I love how both Spock and Bones are written and how they slowly fall in love. Gahhh my heart.)

Surgeon’s Mate by belmanoir | 4.5k, T

Spock likes McCoy. McCoy won’t take a hint. (The ultimate TOS fic.)

** volatile; handle with caution by starstrung | 8.5k, T

Spock moves in with McCoy in his lab and they have to learn to share the same space. (One of my absolute faves. Their voices are written perfectly and the plot is simple, but very very effective.)

Recommended authors:

all writers of the fics listed above of course

especially starstrung and therev, a couple of each of their fics are on this list but they have many other superb Spones fics

IntuitivelyFortuitous has an amazing Spones Oneshots series. I reced 3/5 of the fics in the series (so far?), but I highly recommend the other 2 as well

Think I missed any fics? Have a rec for me? Send in an ask! (Seriously, I love receiving asks, please feel free to send away)

A Massive Mckirk Rec List // A Massive Spirk Rec List to come soon(ish)

#massive spones rec list #spones #star trek #fic rec #rec list #spones fic #ao3 #spones rec list #spones fic rec #star trek rec list #star trek fic rec #leonard mccoy #spock #bones #treksource #ff #fanfic #mine

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eirianerisdar · 8 years

Note

Whoop okay A and D for The Silent Song I, Q, R, U, V, Y. Ha I resisted saying "the alphabet boom"

@zannatinuviel Here goes, a whopper of a post.

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?

The Silent Song as a title was born of three ideas: Firstly, the idea of the music of the spheres being a song that bound the Force into gross matter; silent to all except those who listen for it. Secondly, Obi-Wan being silent, and himself part of the greater Song of galaxy’s story. And thirdly; of the music that I listen to when I write, none fit my philosophy of hope better than Sound the Bugle. It always felt like a quiet voice that grew into a battle-cry of hope.

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

I’ve done this before on my old writing blog here, back before even The Rain Curtain was finished, but I’ve wanted to make playlists for The Silent Song and so forth for a while. To be honest, that old post doesn’t fit too well. I’ll make a new post with audio links soon, for all my published fics so far. I’ll also make a spotify playlist.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Answered here

Q: How do you feel about collaborations?

I feel that collaborations produce excellent plotwork and character development, but unless the two writers’ writing styles are very similar, it would be difficult to physically write a story together. There would always have to be one writer who would write more, and the other might act as a more advanced beta of sorts. As for me, It would be difficult to do a collaboration on an actual fic to be posted online, unless I were very obviously either in the “final writing” role or the “edit and flesh-out” role. My writing style makes it difficult otherwise, and not to mention I write very, very clean fic.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

J.R.R. Tolkien and Christopher Paolini are responsible for about half of my English vocabulary, I think. Paolini has some obvious *ahem* problems with his work, but when I first discovered Eragon and Eldest when I was ten years old, I absorbed new words like an overeager sponge.

As for the writer that first got me into reading as voraciously as I do…I’d say Anthony Horowitz. I grew up with his Alex Rider series - which is primarily responsible for my love of humour-spattered-angst or angst-spattered-humour.

In terms of poets, I love Wilfred Owen’s war poetry.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Uh…difficult to say, because there are SO MANY. I’ve had the privilege to peek into both @qwertyuiop678 and @zannatinuviel‘s (your!) work, but then there’s so many more SW writers, too.

I can’t pick three from Star Wars. I just can’t. So I’ll share three lesser-known fics from Star Wars, LOTR, and Star Trek that deserve to be at the top group of any rec.

In terms of LOTR, Jedi Sapphire is a master.

Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex are Dead by Queen - Ahsoka and Rex die. They don’t move on. Luminous beings see beauty and war and find happiness. (Also read her story Captain Rex and The Last Cheese Pretzel)

KCS writes amazing star trek original series fics for Kirk, Spock, and Bones. She’s got their dynamic just right.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I’d probably want to finish Laura of Maychoria’s amazing fic The Unchosen. It was one of the first fics I read way back when I first got into Star Wars, but it is sadly unfinished.

Y: A character you want to protect.

Honestly, at the moment, Kallus. It’s ridiculous - I don’t even write him, or swr really, but I’m a sucker for military fics or double-agent fics (probably should have put it in the I: Guilty pleasures ask) and I will not have yet another man turned around from serving evil just to sacrifice himself.

In terms of my own characters - Ezhno. I am very protective over him. But then again, I have things planned for him anyway.

*sighs* Finally, done. I’ll be making a spotify playlist for The Silent Song, The Rain Curtain, and Tea and Deathsticks soon. I’ll post the song names with them so you can listen on youtube if any of you don’t have Spotify.

Send me a fic ask? (B, C, E, F, G, J, L, N, O, P, S, T, and X are free)

#tss #trc #replies #zanna #ezhno #kallus #the silent song

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adenil-umano · 8 years

Note

Spock hears that McCoy is thinking of transferring off the ship and must be stopped by any means

There was no doubt about it. That damned Vulcan was up to something.

McCoy had begun to suspect that something was awry about two days ago when Spock had been lying in wait in his office. He’d come in and Spock had startled, dropping the padd he was holding–damn snooping Vulcan. Thankfully, the padd hadn’t had anything of import on it, just a resignation letter from Nurse Bates which McCoy had to sign and Spock would soon see anyway. Bureaucracies ensured that nothing happened without at least eight people knowing and zero people being able to actually do anything about it.

Spock had shuffled around for a while looking nervous–at least McCoy assumed that’s what all the eyebrow scrunching was about–and then had abruptly asked him to lunch. Since McCoy hadn’t eaten, he’d agreed. Spock had acted damned odd at lunch as well. He never let McCoy out of his sight the entire time, and then insisted he go to the bridge afterwards. Without much to do in sickbay, McCoy had agreed to that, too.

On the bridge Spock had spent the whole time enticing Jim to say nice things about him. There was no other way to describe it. Spock would say something acerbic about emotions, or surgery, or medicine as a whole, but he’d do it in such a way that Jim always took McCoy’s side. McCoy realized what was happening about halfway through and, feeling weirded out about the whole thing, he’d left.

Sickbay had been even odder. He’d received a flood of visitors, all ex-patients of his, who explained that they wanted to know how grateful they were for his help. Some of them probably should be thanking him (which he was too humble to admit) but a few were thanking him for curing stubbed toes and itchy elbows. He finally asked a few what was going on, and they’d all looked guilty and shuffled around and finally admitted that Mr. Spock had sent them. In fact, had ordered them down.

The next day Jim had come to his quarters early–which was a sight to see, because Jim was by no means a morning person. He explained that he wanted to catch up with an old friend, and when McCoy accused him of following Spock’s orders Jim had frowned and glanced around innocently and finally admitted to it. But they’d still had a good chat.

After two days of everyone under the sun thanking him and being friendly to him, McCoy was at the end of his rope. But the real kicker came when he awoke to find all of his boots missing.

He stomped down the hall in his bare feet and pounded on the door to Spock’s quarters–forget the door chime, he was too peeved for that. “Spock! Open this damn door before I break it down!”

He kept pounding and nearly smacked Spock in the face when the door finally slid open. Spock dodged expertly. “Doctor.”

“What the hell is going on?” McCoy shoved past him and looked around the room. “What the hell do you call that!” He pointed at the pile of boots on Spock’s desk.

Spock frowned slightly. “I call them boots.”

“Oh yeah? And I suppose you’ll blame Cinderella syndrome if I try them on and they happen to all fit? Spock, I want to know what’s going on right now, so get talking.”

Spock minced around, mouth opening and closing. Finally, he sighed. “I read your request for transfer.”

McCoy squinted, confused. “My request for what now?”

“Your transfer request.” Spock nodded and began to pace around the room. “It has come to my attention that you may be displeased with your position on this ship. However, I-the crew requires that you remain. We require your surgical expertise.” He stopped suddenly, fixing McCoy with a stricken look. “I recognize that I have often given you reason to believe that I find your skills lacking. Please believe me when I say I was not serious in my accusations.”

McCoy was still trying to puzzle through what the hell was going on. “You think I’m going to leave the ship?”

“Doctor, Captain Kirk and I both rely heavily on your valuable input. I-I am not sure what else I can say to entice you to stay.”

McCoy frowned. And then he snorted. He giggled and laughed and shook his head, wiping a tear from his eye. “Spock, I’m not going anywhere.”

Spock frowned. “You are not?”

“No. What you read was Nurse Bates’ resignation letter. Although you must not have gotten very far, because he actually likes it here. He just got another offer at a research station that’s a bit more relaxed. Fewer dangerous away missions, that sort of thing.”

“I did read that,” Spock said, still frowning. “I believe you will find that your away mission status has been changed in the system.”

“That’s sweet of you, Spock.” McCoy had to struggle to refrain from giggling like a fool again. “But unnecessary. If you thought I was leaving, why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Spock glanced around and down at the floor and then back to McCoy before quickly looking away again. He looked over at the wall. “Our conversations are frequently unfriendly. I believed you would not wish to discuss it with me. I—” He swallowed once. “I thought perhaps I was the instigator of your resignation.”

McCoy sighed and drummed his finger against his chin thoughtfully. “And the boots?”

Spock looked at the pile. “We reach Starbase 6 today. Without your shoes, you would not be able to leave.”

“What would you have done if I went to the transporter room anyway?”

“I likely would have grappled with you.”

McCoy shook his head disbelievingly. “Spock, trust me, I’m not leaving. But if I ever do try to leave, just have a damn conversation with me about it, all right? That’s more likely to get results than stealing my shoes.”

Spock bowed his head. “Your logic is impeccable.”

McCoy went over to the pile and picked out a boot. He turned it over in his hands, considering. “You know, it wasn’t all bad.”

“Doctor?”

“If you want to entice–or maybe cajole–the crew into giving me compliments, I’m all for that.” He glanced up, grinning at Spock and affecting his best southern drawl. “In fact, a few compliments from you now and again wouldn’t be too bad, either.”

Spock seemed to relax. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Good.” McCoy winked at him. “Now make yourself useful and help me carry these boots back to my quarters.”

No fewer than a dozen crew members stopped and stared at the First Officer and the barefoot CMO carrying a pile of boots down the corridor. But what was really shocking wasn’t the sight, it was the sound of Spock carefully and expertly listing McCoy’s many positive qualities in alphabetical order. By the time they reached the doctor’s quarters, he had not even gotten to the letter B.

#spones #spock #leonard mccoy #adenil writes #anonymous

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zeroviraluniverse-blog · 7 years

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Five moves each AFC team should make in 2018 NFL offseason for trades, free agency, cuts

Visit Now - http://zeroviral.com/five-moves-each-afc-team-should-make-in-2018-nfl-offseason-for-trades-free-agency-cuts/

Five moves each AFC team should make in 2018 NFL offseason for trades, free agency, cuts

Last week I previewed the beginning of each NFC team’s offseason by identifying the first five things it should do during this downtime. Now it’s time for the AFC over the next few days. Here’s the schedule for the week ahead:

Monday, Feb. 19: AFC West

Tuesday, Feb. 20: AFC South

Wednesday, Feb. 21: AFC North

Thursday, Feb. 22: AFC East

QUICK LINKS: NFC AFC West: Broncos | Chiefs | Chargers | Raiders

AFC West

Let’s move onto the AFC and begin with the West (in alphabetical order), where we’ll see a new head coach and one new starting quarterback, with another likely on the way in the Mile High City:

1. Cut Aqib Talib and C.J. Anderson. The Broncos floated the idea of trading Talib earlier in the offseason but, predictably, nobody took the bait. Talib is still a useful cornerback, but he lacks trade value, with two years and $19 million remaining on his contract, including a $12 million cap hit this season. Someone could theoretically still trade for him, but it’s more likely the Broncos will move on from the 32-year-old and Talib signs somewhere else on a smaller deal in free agency.

Kirk Cousins. Jimmy Graham. Le’Veon Bell. This class could get wild. Here’s everything to know heading into free agency, which begins March 14.

• Ranking top 50 potential free agents » • Looming FA decisions for all 32 teams » •Making biggest decisions for all 32 » • Destination Cousins: Landing spots »

Anderson is a good example of how NFL teams can stumble into bad decisions. The undrafted free agent made the Pro Bowl in 2014 and then lost his job (in part via injury) to Ronnie Hillman in 2015, before finally returning to the primary role during the postseason. The Broncos then decided to tender Anderson at the lowest restricted free-agent level to try to save a couple of million dollars, only for the Dolphins to swoop in with a heavily front-loaded offer.

John Elway then matched the offer. So the Broncos — who didn’t think Anderson was worth a second-round tender just weeks earlier — paid Anderson like an upper-echelon running back and promptly got 23 games of anonymous running back play, with Anderson averaging 4.1 yards per carry.

Denver can free up $15.5 million by releasing Talib and Anderson, money it will want in its pursuit of a veteran quarterback.

Kirk Cousins could be a fit in Denver, but the Broncos will have to get creative with his contract. Kamil Krzaczynski/USA TODAY Sports

2. Go after Kirk Cousins. Speaking of veteran QBs, there’s every reason to think the Broncos should be both all-in for Cousins and one of the favorites to land the former Washington star. The Broncos should be able to make a strong case for Cousins, given the presence of a defense that slipped but still finished tenth in DVOA last season. While their offensive line is still struggling, the Broncos have invested heavily up front, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if their pass protection looked far better with Cousins at quarterback as opposed to the combination of Paxton Lynch, Brock Osweiler and Trevor Siemian.

If Cousins wants to play in Denver, the Broncos will pay up. What would a Cousins deal look like? Assuming the 29-year-old craves the stability Washington failed to offer him, the Broncos are probably looking at a minimum of five years and possibly a six-year contract. Elway tends to avoid larger signing bonuses and prefers roster bonuses early in contracts for cap purposes, but given how massive the Cousins extension is likely to be, the Broncos might not have much of a choice.

There’s no way to make a Cousins deal cheap, but here’s how the Broncos could frame a six-year, $180-million deal with a $40 million signing bonus and an even $100 million payable over the first three years, all of which would be practically guaranteed:

Year Base Salary Signing Bonus Roster Bonus Workout Bonus Cap Hit 2018 $3.5 million $8 million $12.5 million $150,000 $24.15 million 2019 $9 million $8 million $12 million $350,000 $29.35 million 2020 $15 million $8 million $7 million $500,000 $30.5 million 2021 $18 million $8 million $5 million $600,000 $31.6 million 2022 $21 million $8 million $5 million $750,000 $34.75 million 2023 $27.5 million $0 $1.35 million $800,000 $29.65 million Totals $94 million $40 million $42.85 million $3.15 million $180 million

3. Add a tight end. Virgil Green is a free agent. A.J. Derby was waived last year. Jeff Heuerman hasn’t panned out. Jake Butt has returned after missing the entire 2017 season while recovering from a torn right ACL, and you figure he’ll be part of the tight end rotation, but the Broncos probably want to supplement Butt with another tight end to play on early downs.

They could re-sign Green, but it’s not difficult to find a useful blocking tight end in free agency. Lee Smith, formerly of the Raiders, could make sense as the team’s starter in 2018 as the Broncos get to see whether Butt finally becomes their long-term solution as a pass-catching tight end.

4. Lock up Matt Paradis and Bradley Roby. While Elway’s drafts have been middling at best over the past few seasons, the Broncos have one useful contributor on each side of the ball entering the final year of their respective deals. Paradis really emerged in 2016 as one of the best centers in the AFC, and as he enters restricted free agency this offseason, the Broncos won’t make the same mistake they made with Anderson. Paradis likely will be tendered at a high level, and the Broncos will use that as a prelude to an extension.

Likewise, Roby seems likely to emerge after spending years as the third cornerback in Denver’s dream trio alongside Talib and Chris Harris. The Ohio State product suited up for more than 68 percent of Denver’s defensive snaps this past season and is ready to take over for Talib as an every-down cornerback. The Broncos already are handing Roby a raise to $8.5 million as a result of picking up his fifth-year option last offseason, so while Denver could let Roby play out his deal and work on an extension next offseason, it seems more likely they’ll sign Roby to a five-year extension in the $55 million range.

5. Pick up Shane Ray‘s fifth-year option. The Denver pass rush was down across the board in 2017. Von Miller wasn’t as productive as he had been the previous year. DeMarcus Ware retired, and while that opened up a role for Shaquil Barrett in the pass-rush rotation, Barrett only mustered four sacks and 12 knockdowns despite playing 67.2 percent of the defensive snaps.

Nobody fell off more than Ray, who missed the first half of the year with a wrist injury and never seemed to get going. After racking up eight sacks and 21 knockdowns as a situational pass-rusher in 2016, Ray had just one sack and four knockdowns while playing 35.7 percent of Denver’s seasonal snaps. That said, pass-rushers are too valuable to give up on, so the Broncos have to pick up Ray’s fifth-year option, but this will be a critical year for the Missouri product.

1. Cut Tamba Hali. The Chiefs signed Hali to a questionable extension after the 2015 season, one with a structure that basically guaranteed the 34-year-old would be on the roster in 2017. By the end of 2016, the organization probably regretted the decision. Hali lost his starting job to Dee Ford during the 2016 season, then publicly fought for his release before the 2017 season; that release never came. The Chiefs placed Hali on injured reserve to start the year, then had him take only 99 defensive snaps over the second half of the season. Kansas City will save $7.7 million by moving on from their 2006 first-round pick.

2. Pick up Marcus Peters‘ fifth-year option. Peters got suspended for a game last season after briefly losing his mind against the Jets, including a tossing a penalty flag into the crowd. But he’s one of the best cornerbacks on the planet. Andy Reid & Co. might theoretically pass on signing Peters to an extension if there are more flare-ups, but it seems extremely likely that the University of Washington product will be wearing Chiefs colors for the next several seasons.

Marcus Peters has 19 regular-season interceptions in only three seasons. Scott Winters/Icon Sportswire

3. Add an inside linebacker. Kansas City has already announced that it intends to move on from stalwart inside linebacker Derrick Johnson, whose contract voids at the end of the 2017 league year. Now the Chiefs need to find somebody to play alongside Reggie Ragland, who Kansas City acquired from Buffalo before the season.

Defensive coordinator Bob Sutton should have his pick in a market which is perennially team-friendly these days. It wouldn’t be a surprise to see the Chiefs wait the market out before going after a veteran like Demario Davis or Avery Williamson; they could also look at likely cap casualties, a group which should include Brian Cushing and Jerrell Freeman.

4. Find a backup quarterback. Patrick Mahomes is the starter for the foreseeable future, but the Chiefs need to find a new backup to fill in after trading away Alex Smith. Tyler Bray is an unrestricted free agent, while their previous backup — Nick Foles, who had a big game recently — is probably off the market.

If Tyrod Taylor‘s market fails to develop, the former Buffalo starter would be about as good as it could possibly get as a backup for Reid, given Taylor’s ability to avoid turnovers and his comfort working out of the shotgun as a runner. If Taylor is out of their price range, the Chiefs could look to former deputy Chase Daniel, who has now made more than $24 million as a professional quarterback (including an even $10 million from the Chiefs) for 78 professional passes.

5. Find a punter. Dustin Colquitt is a free agent, and while the 13-year NFL veteran had a solid season in 2017, it’s unclear whether he’ll be back with the Chiefs for another run in 2018. Colquitt had a $4.9 million cap hit last season, which was the most of any punter in the league. If he’s back in 2018, it probably won’t be at that number. It wouldn’t be a surprise to see the Chiefs use a late-round pick on a punter to develop under stud special-teams coach Dave Toub.

1. Pick up the fifth-year option on Melvin Gordon. Injuries have kept Gordon from emerging as a consistently impactful running back, but the Wisconsin product served as the focal point of the offense for a long stretch in 2016, when he was one of the few left standing. Gordon hasn’t been healthy enough to justify an extension, but he’s good enough to keep around into 2019.

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2. Ask Travis Benjamin and Corey Liuget to take a pay cut. Benjamin, the former Browns draftee, hasn’t been consistent during his time in California, having racked up 1,244 receiving yards and eight touchdowns over two seasons. He’s likely the fourth wideout on the depth chart this season behind Keenan Allen, Mike Williams and Tyrell Williams, which makes his $5.8 million salary a luxury. The Chargers can save $4.5 million by releasing Benjamin, money they can better apply to weaker parts of the roster.

Liuget has never lived up to the five-year, $51.3-million deal he signed before the 2015 season, offering enough neither as a pass-rusher or as a run defender on a unit which ranked 27th in DVOA in the latter category. He wouldn’t make anything close to the three years and $26.3 million remaining on his deal on the open market, and the Chargers should be interested in getting a discount, if not moving on from their former first-round pick altogether.

3. Re-sign a group of restricted free agents. While most teams don’t have any restricted free agents worth discussing, the Chargers have several worth retaining in wideout Tyrell Williams, safety Adrian Phillips and backup edge rusher Chris McCain. (Cornerback Trevor Williams also is an exclusive-rights free agent, which is a paradox.) The Chargers should be interested in bringing them all back.

Phillips could move into the starting lineup if the Chargers don’t re-sign Tre Boston, who racked up five interceptions in his best season as a pro after coming over from the Panthers. The price for Boston might determine whether the Chargers should bring him back, given that they’ve already invested in Jahleel Addae and Casey Hayward in the secondary and have Jason Verrett signed for one more year at his fifth-year option price of $8.3 million. If the bidding for Boston tops $7 million per year, I would be hesitant to pay up for a guy who the league didn’t really value very much before last season.

Casey Hayward has been one of the NFL’s best cornerbacks since being signed by the Chargers in 2016. Chris Williams/Icon Sportswire

4. Lock up Casey Hayward and Denzel Perryman. Speaking of Hayward, the former Packers corner is due for a huge raise after emerging as one of the best cornerbacks in all of football. Hayward’s three-year, $15.3-million deal has been one of the biggest free-agent steals in recent memory for the Chargers, as Hayward has gone from being a slot cornerback with the Packers to a guy capable of competing with any receiver in football anywhere on the field.

The 28-year-old Hayward has racked up 11 interceptions over the past two years; and with one year left on that contract, the Chargers are going to have to offer their star corner a new deal as early as this offseason. There’s every reason to think the Chargers will need to give Hayward an extension in the five-year, $70-million range to stay in Los Angeles for years to come.

Perryman hasn’t been quite as revelatory over the past couple of years. But the Chargers had a significantly better run defense with him on the field, and they got lost for stretches last season while their defensive signal-caller was out injured. The University of Miami product hasn’t been able to stay healthy, having missed 15 games over his first three seasons, but Los Angeles has allowed 4.0 yards per carry with Perryman on the field and 4.8 yards per carry with Perryman sidelined.

5. Make a run at one of the top-tier defensive tackles. Teams are going to copy the Eagles this offseason, and as plans go, you can do worse than bombarding the opposing team with dominant defensive linemen. The good news for the Chargers is that they already have one of the best edge-rushing combinations in football with Joey Bosa and Melvin Ingram. The problem: The interior of the line hasn’t been as effective.

Defensive coordinator Gus Bradley helped build a Jaguars defense that finally crested after he departed, so let’s try to get the Chargers a dominant interior piece. Sheldon Richardson and Star Lotulelei are both free agents, and while they’re going to help dramatically against the run, Richardson or Lotulelei might not be a third impactful pass-rusher the Chargers could thrive with alongside Bosa and Ingram.

What about Ndamukong Suh? There are rumblings that the Dolphins could cut their highly paid defensive tackle, and while Suh is coming off his least-productive season as a pro, it was still good for 4.5 sacks and 12 knockdowns. If that’s your worst campaign, you’re doing OK. Suh never gets injured and still commands plenty of double-teams. I can see the argument for spending money elsewhere, but if Suh hits the market, he would be a massive upgrade on Liuget on the interior.

1. Release Sean Smith — and don’t stop there. The Raiders already moved on from one starting cornerback by cutting David Amerson earlier this offseason, and they’ll complete the set by dumping Smith, who was a replacement-level cornerback for most of his time in Oakland. Releasing the former Dolphins draft pick will free up $8.5 million. The Raiders will go forward with 2017 first-rounder Gareon Conley at one spot and could re-sign TJ Carrie to play across from him.

General manager Reggie McKenzie has structured most of Oakland’s contracts to keep the organization flexible, and if he and new coach Jon Gruden want, the Raiders can clean house. McKenzie could release Bruce Irvin, Michael Crabtree, Marshawn Lynch and Jared Cook to create more than $27 million in additional cap room, although I don’t think they should necessarily make those cuts.

One move the Raiders should make is to move on from Seth Roberts, who has managed to post the highest drop rate in football over the past three years among wideouts with 100 targets or more. Oakland just signed Roberts to an extension last August, but they can free up $2.3 million by moving on from him. More importantly, they can sign a better third wideout for Derek Carr.

New coach Jon Gruden and the Raiders have several interesting roster decisions to make this offseason. Jose Sanchez/AP Photo

2. Pick up Amari Cooper‘s fifth-year option. Cooper had a wildly frustrating third season in the NFL, seemingly disappearing from the offense for stretches of time before suddenly emerging with big plays. It seems easier to blame his disappearing act on deposed offensive coordinator Todd Downing, given how many other players in the offense struggled this past season. The Raiders will have cause for concern if Cooper doesn’t bounce back in 2018, but they have to pick up his fifth-year option to retain negotiating leverage if they want to sign him to a long-term deal.

3. Extend Khalil Mack. Mack didn’t get close to his (absurd) goal of 30 sacks, finishing with 10.5 sacks and 22 knockdowns. But 2017 was Mack’s third consecutive season with double-digit sacks, making the University of Buffalo product the 22nd player to pull that off during the first four years of his NFL career.

The Raiders have Mack signed for one more year as part of his fifth-year option, but he’s going to be a core player for the team long after they head to Las Vegas. As Alden Gonzalez mentioned last month, the Raiders and Rams might be in a holding pattern atop the pass-rushing market, since Mack’s deal should come in the same ballpark as that of NFL Defensive Player of the Year Aaron Donald.

I mentioned last week that Donald was in line for a six-year, $120-million extension. Mack’s deal might be even bigger by virtue of the fact that he’s a top-10 pick, which impacts the cost of his fifth-year option. Top-10 picks like Mack get paid the average of the top 10 salaries at their position, while first-rounders taken after the 10th spot, like Donald, get the average salary of the players ranked between three and 25 at their respective positions.

As a result, Donald’s fifth-year salary is still a bargain at $6.9 million. Mack’s not stealing money, but his $13.9 million base salary isn’t much of a discount on what he would get as an annual salary as part of a new deal. Donald will probably get more new money, but the $7 million gap between the two means Mack’s deal might look larger once pen hits paper.

When: April 26-28 Where: Arlington, Texas NFL draft home page » | Draft order »

•Todd McShay’s Mock Draft 2.0 » •Mel Kiper’s Mock Draft 1.0 » • Which NFL teams could draft a QB? » • Kiper’s Big Board » | McShay’s Top 32 » • 2018 draft QB class primer » • Underclassmen who have declared »

4. Sign defensive line help. McKenzie has invested high draft picks up front, but they haven’t really panned out. Mack obviously has been a success, but 2015 second-rounder Mario Edwards didn’t show much in his return from injury last year, while 2016 second-rounder Jihad Ward was a healthy scratch for most of the season. While there are holes behind the defensive line at middle linebacker and possibly at safety next to Karl Joseph, the Raiders need more from their non-Mack defensive linemen to emerge as an effective defense.

The problem: This really isn’t a deep free-agent crop for defensive linemen, especially if Ezekiel Ansah and DeMarcus Lawrence get franchised. The Raiders wouldn’t be in for Ansah or Lawrence, but teams that might have made a huge offer for one of those two stars will instead be putting their money toward lesser players along the defensive front. Oakland could look at Adrian Clayborn, who would play as a defensive end on early downs, then shift inside to offer interior pass-rushing help on third downs. A big offer for Sheldon Richardson also wouldn’t be the worst idea.

5. Take the best player available in the first round. Outside of quarterback and guard, the Raiders are not in a position to pass up a potential difference-maker at any position. While they have needs at the spots I mentioned earlier, Oakland should be willing to take the best player on the board at No. 9 or No. 10 (their pick will be determined in a coin flip with the 49ers at the combine).

Should McKenzie unite a pair of Alabama wideouts, with Amari Cooper and Calvin Ridley? Or a pair of Ohio State cornerbacks, with Conley and Denzel Ward? It’s not difficult to imagine the Raiders improving with either option. Players like Notre Dame tackle Mike McGlinchey and Georgia inside linebacker Roquan Smith could fill more pressing needs, but the Raiders’ roster looks far less impressive right now than it did this time last year. It will take a good draft — and a winning debut under Gruden — to turn that perception around.

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