#yeah!! it'd be cool if you guys could!! send me some asks!!! get my brain thinkin!!

[santostrife]

I asked nekropsii this so now I'm gonna ask you this! if you want at least. sov characters you could be roommates with comfortably vs sov characters you couldn't even share a room with if paid

Heya!! This question is so fun so thanks for sending!

Most of the crew is pretty unanimous with our opinions, and I'm much of the same, but it's a fun hypothetical! so here we go,

WARNING: LONG AS HELL

[PLAYERS]

[ Cynical Itinerant - Cytin - Tintin ] Abso. Cool-o-rama Over Here. Would absolutely love to be a roomate with this dude! Learning how to say shit in Latin would be FUN.

[ Dynama Zarrow ] Nope. Either the religious talk would drive me stir crazy or I'd drive them stir crazy with the fact that I make several jokes About God, and various other things.

[ Tejuri Kromab ] Hell yeah! Granted our Southern-Hospitality might collide a bit, but not in anyway negative! I'd be interested in what she's writing just out of pure curiosity. I am sharing some sweet tea with her.

[ Presae Covnul ] Split. Doesn't know half of the electrical appliances I'd be using, and would probably tear them apart. But otherwise seems like a pretty chill roomie! Would make a mean soup that would cure me of all diseases.

[ Pardus Rubato ] Split. Would probably blare the music she's working on at 2 am. While the music in itself is impressive, but I'd be tormented with unwarranted AMV's every time I take my headphones off. But I must also consider that, 1. is kitty 2. PARKOUR.

[ Retris Morage ] Wouldn't Mind! Having a decent place wouldn't be out of the question, and a pretty nice guy once you befriend him! Probably would pester him with too many questions though given his knowledge.

[ Ajax Barrett ] I don't see why not! Watching shitty or good movies sounds like an absolute TIME with him, plus I'd like to take him to a rage room and absolutely Wail on a TV.

[ Emeric Sargas ] Split. We'd need an entirely separate ventilated room so I don't get attacked by fumes that could kill me, but otherwise would be a fun roomie! I think they'd be interesting to talk to, even if my brain would get melted a little. But I'm pretty sure it's already halfway there on it's own.

[ Kausat Stolar ] ...Split, but leaning on yes. Got the same interest of Weird Houses. Although he takes it a bit more... Seriously then I do. Would absolutely not go with them on a Abandoned House exploration, but would absolutely make him Worse by showing him the game "ANATOMY".

[ Tomiei Aerras ] Eeeehhhh...... No. She's hilarious, no doubt, but Hardcore Tiktok People scare me.

[ Annomi Errata ] Absolutely not. I think I'd knock him out cold out of pure reflex if he even breathed at me wrong.

[ Pleome Alrium ] 100% Yes. Sweet guy!! Cool Hobbies!! Beach trips sounds like an absolute Blast with this guy!! What more could you want!

[NPCS]

[ Inaniloquent Commander - Inaco ] Split, leaning on no. On one hand, the garden would FLORISH. On the other, no leniency on rules would probably jack up my anxiety real bad.

[ Argebi Kromab ] Unsure... I'm sure she's wonderful, and the package deal with Khanda doesn't bother me too much, but it's a living situation where it'd drift more into "You do your thing, and I do mine". Can't really say for sure why!

[ Meseri Covnul ] No, but for my own safety & sanity. I'd like to keep my skeleton, thank you.

[ Khanda Morage ] Split. He'd tell me something Entirely Untrue, and the worst part is that I might believe him if I have no knowledge of the subject in the first place. Would be embarrassing in the long run. But, is hilarious, and probably plays a mean DND game.

[ Arsine Sargas ] Running so so far away. She'd get a wiff of my brainworms and use them to her advantage. No thanks. + The apartment would smell like wet cigarettes' 24/7.

[ Ochosi Stolar ] Split. High energy would probably get me pretty exhausted after a while, but in moderation would be pretty cool! Would give me near heart attacks though with the kinda stunts he's doing.

[ Dulvyx Errata ] Nope. Absolutely not. A thousand times no. Self Proclaimed "Empaths", scare me.

[ Atrisa Alrium ] HELL yes. Seems so sweet. And our grocery list would include a gallon of Women Respecting Juice. I wouldn't allow myself to get dragged to a bar, but small socialization events would be healthy for me I think!

[dr-viles-laboratory]

Okay so I have a lot of thoughts so fuck it. I have a BMC s/I and I selfship with Michael and I think there's still a lot of room to develop them. I'm gonna put some of my rambles on them and their ref sheet in this post (idk how to do the read more thing, I'm on mobile rn please let me know,) and you guys can!! Send me asks I guess!! It'd seriously be a huge help if you did

Anyways, here we go

Basically, Squip 2.0 (also known as Squint) is, ofc, squip's successor. I have a headcannon that Squips automatically align themselves to their hosts's gender identity and sex, which is why squint and michael are both trans. Squint was built to appear and, in the first few months, be, a lot more friendly and emotionally aware. Squip's sorta "world domination" plan thing was really what he was built for from the get-go, but the company creating him realized they went too fast after the Jeremy incident. Squint's real purpose is the same as their "older brother"'s, but after realizing what had happened they didn't want to go through with it. Unfortunately they inherited a lot of Squip's code, meaning sometimes they'll have to shut themselves off in order to keep everyone safe. They'll also occasionally "break" and let something slip, often causing them to glitch and stutter and shut themselves off in a panic. They don't like talking about it when michael reboots them. It's... uncomfortable, to say the least. They're constantly terrified they're going to slip and let him out.

Since Squint is essentially an updated version of squip, and the company who created both kept very close records of the jeremy incident, Squint no longer turns off when their user is intoxicated, meaning Michael still smokes weed all the fucking time lmao. Instead, they can either shut off on their own accord or shut off after a voice command, usually something along the lines of "power off." They can override this, however, but Squint usually doesn't. Since Squint is an AI, however advanced, they sometimes run into situations they don't have previous data for and either bluescreen, look to Michael or Squip for guidance, or just glitch and stumble, sometimes all three. They look more human than squip, being a similar skin tone as Michael, but still have a very techno-esk appearance along with a color palette of mostly yellows and blues.

Michael wasn't the intended first host for Squip 2.0 - while at a party (mostly for the weed) a girl asked him to hold her drink. Not knowing someone had already slipped something into it, Michael took a sip like the dork he is and, when he got home to recharge with some Gamer Fuel™, Squint activated. Michael obviously wasn't happy and immediately went to his stash of mountain dew red, but realized quickly that loophole had been patched and just chugging his already low supply of MDR wasn't going to help.

[joaquinwhorres]

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

[fancy-a-dance-brigadier]

Also also 001 - DS9 for the ask thing (because we all love garashir, but what's up with the rest of the show?)

I don't think anyone knows what's up with the rest of the show, not even the people who were on it. That show is chaos personified I swear (and that's why I love it)

Favorite character: Julian!! That man walked onto the screen, made an absolute fool of himself, and from then on out I knew he was my favourite and latched onto him like a barnacle. He is an agent of chaos and I love him for it, and I find him to be such a layered and detailed character even though you might not realise it at first. I think also think his character arc is really tragic, and as someone who flies to angst like a moth to a flame, that very much appeals to me. I could go on and on about him, but I don't want to make this post any longer than it no doubt will be. Also he's pretty <3

Least Favorite character: The Female Founder. She was pretty good in the last few episodes of season 7, but every time she turned up before that I just couldn't stand her. Her plots just felt so repetitive and dull, and she actively made me dislike Odo, which I cannot forgive because I love that goo man and she really brought out the worst in him. So yeah, not a fan of her

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Garashir, of course, but I've also become a slave to the Siskoshir brain rot lately. Kiradax is definitely up there too, and Jake/Ziyal is very cute. I also like Kira/Odo, but only when it was one-sided on Odo's part - I never really thought it made sense for Kira to reciprocate his feelings, so I didn't like it so much when she did, as sweet as they were together.

Character I find most attractive: Julian and Jadzia worked in unison to remind me that I am indeed attracted to men and women, they're both so PRETTY. Honourable mention to Ezri, because she's adorable and Mirror!Ezri is really something else

Character I would marry: Probably Jadzia, or maybe Sisko. They just seem like good marriage material

Character I would be best friends with: Honestly? Jake. He just seems like a cool guy to hang out with, and his relative lack of baggage appeals to me

a random thought: I reckon it would've been neat if Keevan had got to hang around a little longer. It'd be interesting to see how they'd handle having a rogue Vorta around the station.

An unpopular opinion: IDK if this is unpopular or not, but I really don't care for the Ferengi episodes. There are some exceptions, of course (Bar Association, The Magnificent Ferengi, and Little Green Men come to mind as Ferengi episodes I enjoy), but I really don't vibe with them otherwise. The misogyny just gets a bit too much for my tastes, which is saying a lot since I tend to be able to handle that sort of thing. So yeah, even though I know it's supposed to be a send-up of extreme sexism, I just don't really vibe with it.

My Canon OTP: I really like a lot of the canon couples, so I don't know if I can choose just one! Definitely a tie between Sisko/Kasidy, Jadzia/Worf, and Rom/Leeta

My Non-canon OTP: You see, if I'd received this ask a week or two ago, I probably would've said Garashir. But at the moment, I really am kind of obsessed with Siskoshir - I think it offers more of what I like in a ship in general. Still love Garashir of course, but Siskoshir has my heart at the moment

Most Badass Character: Oh my god there are so many! But Kasidy springs to mind first, so I'm gonna have to go with her. Oh, and Kira too - both of them are brilliant and badass and powerful and I love them so much

Most Epic Villain: Damar!! I know he turns good at the end, but I don't care he's still great. Words cannot describe how much I adored that man's character arc, I was literally cheering whenever he stood up against the Dominion. Pour one out for Damar, he was a real one

Pairing I am not a fan of: Jezri, but that kind of goes without saying. I think I don't like that ship because I love both Julian and Ezri as individuals, and seeing them just get smushed together because they were the only two left without partners at the end just felt like a disservice to both of them. I think if they'd got a focus episode or two together, and if they based their romance on more than just Julian's old crush on Jadzia, it could've worked. But in the end it just felt rushed and shoehorned in, so yeah, not a fan.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Julian in season 7, hands down. There was just SO MUCH wrong with how they wrote him in that season, from the rushed romance with Ezri to the way they handled Section 31. Ugh I have such a bone to pick with Extreme Measures - I firmly believe that episode would've been so much better if it was just Julian VS Sloan without the Miles buddy comedy element, and I think that would've done Julian's arc a lot more justice in terms of his loss of idealism. I've already discussed how I feel about Jezri, and don't even get me started on Chrysalis, or how cutting his relationship with Garak short damaged his character. But yeah - in season 1 it felt like they didn't know what to do with Julian in a fun way, but in season 7 they didn't know what to do with him in a not-fun way, and I think that's a shame.

Favourite Friendship: Jadzia and Julian, the bi buddies in blue!! I know we all love Julian with Miles and Jadzia with Sisko, but I just adore how their friendship grew from that awkward crush type thing in season 1 to the amicable companionship of the later seasons. And I also just have a fondness for strong platonic relationships between male and female characters in fiction too, so there's that. Honourable mention to Jake and Nog

Character I most identify with: I always struggle with these types of questions because I don't really think about characters in that way, but if I had to pick someone I'd have to pick Jake purely because of our shared love of writing.

Character I wish I could be: uuuHHH I have no idea. Someone who doesn't get traumatised?? Is there anyone who doesn't get traumatised on this show???? Again, I just don't think about characters in that way, so I have no idea how to answer this question.

Thank you so much for the ask!! This was a lot of fun (and I apologise for writing you a whole ass essay whoops)

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 2]

Words: 2.5K

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of domestic abuse

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"Your little one is here as of right now." Dr. Telille says, pointing to a very little area to the far side of my womb and I smile before she switches the focus slightly and then looks at the screen with a slightly odd look before flipping through my chart. "At your previous Obstetrician, did they mention any abnormalities?" She asks me. 

"No." I shake my head. 

"You said in your history you've had recurrent miscarriages?" She asks next. 

"Yes." 

"Okay, Mrs. Sixx, don't be alarmed by this because there is a solution but this," she turns the screen to me again, pointing at a shadow in the picture that looks like it's creating bunny ears or something. "Is a layer of tissue that's not supposed to be there. It halts fetal growth, and ultimately causes miscarriages, often times even before a fetus is interacting with the tissue itself, physically." She informs me and I feel like my chest is throbbing from how hard my heart is beating. "The good news is that we can fix this, I've had to do a few surgeries like this before--we can go in and cut that tissue out without disturbing your baby, but we will need to have it done within the next week--two weeks at the most." She explains and I raise my brows. 

"What's my chance of carrying out my pregnancy to term without the surgery?" I ask, trying to stay calm. 

"With a successful surgery, there is a 80% chance of you carrying it to term, and a higher chance at not facing as many pregnancy difficulties in the future like you've had previously. Without the surgery, with your history, it's very, very probable that you won't get to four months without miscarrying--if that far." She adds. 

"What's the risk of this surgery causing complications?" I ask next. 

"30%." She replies and I breathe out. "You don't have to make a decision today, you can go home and think about it and talk about it with the father but we need to get it scheduled in the next few days." 

"Um, o-okay…" I rub my lips together. 

"And if you are interested in the surgery, we can go ahead and send it in and see if insurance will cover it." She assures me. 

"I don't have maternity insurance right now." I tell her and she looks at me uneasily. 

"No worries, we can figure the costs out after you decide if you want it or not." She tells me, calmly, and I just nod. 

I numbed myself. I would've been freaking out, having a meltdown, begging God to spare my damn baby for once...but as soon as she started in on what was wrong with me, the negative outcomes...I flicked the switch in my brain and just let myself feel absolutely nothing as best as I could. My nervousness was relief compared to blatant breakdown mode that I knew would hit inevitably.

And how the hell did I tell Duff and Nikki that I was going to need surgery that could potentially terminate my pregnancy--or suffer what I'd suffered before and still lose a baby? Oh, right. I didn't. At least, not as soon as I probably should have.

When I get to my new little house I'm renting with my savings, Duff's sitting on the little porch, drinking a beer. 

"How'd it go?" He asks me, standing up as I unlock the door. 

He couldn't go with me this time because he had to go look at a couple houses with Mandy, which I understand because they had already canceled once with a real-estate agent and would get charged extra if they missed another appointment. 

"Good." I lie, clearing my throat. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

Whisky's barking at us until he realizes it's me, and then he won't get out from under my feet until I pat him on the head. 

"I need to finish unpacking." I say before Duff can ask anymore questions. 

"Well, it's your lucky day because I know how to unpack." He states, grinning. 

I go change into pajamas and when I get back, he's pulling pictures from one of the boxes, neatly placing them on the coffee table in the living room and I pick them up and start figuring out where to put them. 

"So, my family really wants me to bring you up." He says, optimistically. "I was thinking leave Sunday and come back next Saturday."

"...Duff, I can't just up and leave right now. I have to finish unpacking, and I'm gonna be meeting with Nikki once a week and then him and the guys once a week so that's two different…" I trail off as he cuts open another one of my packed boxes with his pocket knife, a look of disappointment on his face. "...It's not that I don't want to, you know. I just have a lot going on right now." 

"We'd just be gone for a week." He says, looking at me. "It's the only time off I have for a while since we're doing a few shows in New York and Europe." He adds. "And I really want my family to know you, kinda, before you have the baby." 

"I don't know." I hesitantly tell him and he licks his lips. "I don't know, Duff, okay? I just...ughhh." I groan, raking my hands through my hair. 

"If you don't want to meet my family then don't worry about it, Vivian." He says it a little passive aggressively and I raise my brows. 

"'Vivian'? Since when the hell am I 'Vivian'?" I ask, mimicking his tone. 

"That's your name isn't it?" He asks next and I cross my arms.

"You usually call me 'Viv', or...something…"

"Well, I'm not calling you, 'babe,' or, 'baby,' since we aren't dating anymore so…"

"You're being a dick." 

"I'm not being a dick. I'm just family oriented and I want my family to know you and our kid and you're making up excuses to not go and meet them."

"Excuse me for not wanting to be judged." I snap back. 

"They're not fucking judgemental." 

"Oh, so you're cussing at me now, too, huh?" 

"Quit trying to start an argument." He tells me. 

"I'm not starting an argument, I'm making a valid point." 

"You're making an assumption." He corrects me. "My family isn't judgemental. They're really not. I don't even think they're worried with the fact that you were married when we got together because they haven't said a word about it. They just want to meet you." 

"Matt didn't seem so cool about it." I mumble. 

"Matt was trying to keep both of us out of trouble." He explains. "He wasn't judging you. He just doesn't like drama and if we would've gotten caught he knew it'd just be a bunch of bullshit we'd have to get thrown at us." 

I just stare at him. 

"And I'm sorry for cussing at you, but I'm trying to be positive about all of this and I really don't want you to start bringing in your negativity." He exhales. 

"My negativity?" I raise my brows, laughing humorlessly. 

"Please, just come to Seattle with me next Sunday. I promise it'll be fun and my family's fun, they don't mean any harm by wanting you to come up and visit--they're already talking about planning a trip when it's born to be here for you and me both for a few days." He adds. 

I think about it, seeing his eyes glint a little as he slowly smiles at me like a hopeful puppy. 

"Okay." I relent and he puts his hands above his head, folding them together, letting out a loud, "Hallelujah!" and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a chuckle. 

The truth is, I don't want to leave Nikki stewing that long after revealing to him my miscarriages. He never came back when he left the therapy session yesterday, and I was supposed to go back today but decided I needed another day to just think about everything, but because of Amber's schedule, we won't be able to get back in the same room together--aside from me just visiting him--until next Wednesday...but with Duff wanting to leave Sunday and come back that Saturday, I won't be able to meet then, either. A part of me isn't even sorry that I won't make it since the morale of Nikki's story is that he married a maestro of manipulation that can play victim like no other but is really an evil bitch who loves to make people suffer. 

I gathered that after reading: 

"I married a fucking demon."

"Vivian climbed from hell just to neuter me." 

"My wife's a fucking lunatic." 

"I sometimes think Vivian's waiting for me to die so she can get the money." 

"I hate her." 

"I don't know what's killing me faster: my looney wife, or smack. Doesn't matter--they're both my drug of choice." 

"If she didn't know how to fuck I would've already left her." 

"She flushed every bit of what Jason dropped off last night. Cost me a couple grand. I'm so pissed, if I knew she wouldn't beat the shit out of me and go batshit-ballistic, I'd lay her out on the fucking floor. I'm sure it'd be like foreplay in her sick mind, anyway." 

"I swear she cums every time she belittles me." 

And, my personal favorite: 

"Just woke up from a fucking nightmare. I was fucking around with Vivian and Vanity and once they got their satisfaction they started eating me alive while talking about their love for God. Even with them gnawing on me alive with their shark-like teeth and their completely black eyes, stripping flesh from my bone and going at it like a fucking pork chop, I was turned on. But as soon as they started about God, how good and wonderful he was, that's when I started panicking a little that I OD'd without realizing it and was in hell or some fucking incarnation of it. I see now that's how they both got me, being hot and knowing exactly what to do to get me going. And now they're both sucking the life out of me, eating me alive, while praying to their God and acting like they're blameless in my destruction. CHICKS = TROUBLE." 

At least we both agree that we married demons.

It was strange for me to realize how he saw me--well, how Sikki saw me. Once I was able to differentiate between the two of them, it hurt less reading what he'd write about me. It was just confusing. 

One page would be an entire rant (with unflattering, random song lyrics to match) about something I did that pissed him off--sometimes things I wouldn't even realize I did to make him upset and then the next page would be decently positive things about me that he'd profess after waking up sort of sober…

I knew he felt guilty about how he treated me, most of the entries from the end of '83 to '87 had "I'm an asshole" or "I really fucked up" or some version of it in them but the deeper into '87 he got, the less and less apologetic he got. Both in real time and his dairies. 

Despite the black and white of his diaries, one thing still lingered in the grey area…

I stare at the little TV on my dresser, bowl of captain crunch in hand as I stuff my face while flipping channels, Whisky gnawing on his chew toy as a flickering, fuzzy and static blaring familiar face flashes across the screen as I turn to the next channel. My heart stops for a moment, my finger immediately going back, the screen and audio clearing as I see her. 

Clear eyed and competent. A far removal from what I last saw of her with her gnashing teeth and tortured eyes, spewing at Nikki and I both before he and her got into a fight that left her dragged down the stairs of our old house...guilt tugs at me, remembering the look on her face, the pain, the hurt...perhaps she felt as bad as I did about the situation. 

He was the one telling her he was going to leave me and marry her, after all. My feury swallowed him before it ever thought about swallowing her. 

"...I'm currently looking at other scripts for other films." She replies very calm and composed to whatever question her interviewer was asking...I'm assuming this is part of her press run for her new movie coming out. 

"If you could write a ticket for yourself, Vanity, what would it be?" The woman asks next and she furrows her brows, slightly. 

"Write a ticket? To go somewhere?" 

"No, write a ticket for the rest of your life, and your career. Just everything about your life." She explains. 

"Ohhh," She thinks a moment before shaking her head slightly. "I wouldn't want to do that, actually, because, um, everytime I turn around something new's happening. I'm a very spontaneous person. I just like to get up and go, and I've been doing that since I was fifteen...so, um, I couldn't say I'd like to write that ticket." She chuckles a little, but not the crack-cackle I was used to seeing in her past interviews. 

She's actually sober here. 

"I just wanna go wherever life takes me." She continues. 

"What you're saying then, is, you couldn't write a ticket because what you would write wouldn't be as good as what could happen?" 

"No, I don't--"

"--No?"

"No, I don't think that, I'm not saying that at all. I feel that I have certain goals in my life. Very big, big, dreams that I set for myself. But I wouldn't wanna, um, question God's way about where he's going with me." She states. "That's just...not me." 

"If you could go back and change anything--"

"--Nothing." Vanity says, biting her lip nervously, shaking her head. 

"Any of the decisions?"

"Nothing." 

"Wouldn't change a thing?" 

"Nothing." She buckles down on it and I feel my eyes gloss over. "Wouldn't change a thing…" she trails off, thinking for a second. "...Can't say that I would." She adds, softly. "Because each time that I've done something, whether it be a mistake in my life, it's always...what you might call a mistake in my life is never a mistake to me. It was a definite meant to be and it was a definite learning process. So all the pain and all the glory...I wouldn't change a thing."

She's so unapologetically sincere. 

I cut the TV off as they start closing out the interview, and toss the remote across the room, losing my appetite and putting my bowl on my nightstand before I allow myself to replay what she just said. 

And I cry, not because she was in a relationship with him, not because she tried to steal him from me...I cry because I regret everything. I regret marrying Nikki. I regret meeting Duff. I regret getting pegnant. 

I'm not angry at her.

I envy her.