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#Christopher Commons
human-antithesis · 7 months
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Primordial - Exile Amongst The Ruins (March 30th, 2018) Country: Ireland Genre: Celtic Folk Black Metal Formats: mp3 320kbps & FLAC
Lineup: Alan Averill - Vocals Ciáran MacUiliam - Guitars Michael Flynn - Guitars Pól MacAmlaigh - Bass Simon O'Laoghaire - Drums
Miscellaneous Staff: Ola Ersfjord - Producer, Engineering, Mixing Christopher Commons - Mastering Mihai Anghel - Photography Gareth Averill - Photography Costin Chioreanu - Artwork, Layout
Label: Metal Blade Records
Tracklist:
Nail Their Tongues - 09:00
To Hell or the Hangman - 07:17
Where Lie The Gods - 09:12
Exile Amongst The Ruins - 07:59
Upon Our Spiritual Deathbed - 08:28
Stolen Years - 05:15
Sunken Lungs - 07:52
Last Call - 10:32
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m3t4ln3rd · 2 years
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The Devil Wears Prada releases video for new single "Time"
Band: The Devil Wears PradaSong: “Time”Director: Christopher Commons & Kate McFerrenAlbum: Color DecayRelease Date: September 16th, 2022Label: Solid State Records The band said of the song’s meaning: “Not to be too obvious, but this song is about how we are all victims to the passing of time. It can feel so fast or too slow, but it is never on our side. That sentiment mixed with one of the…
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lily-s-world · 3 months
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One of the main messages of Mean Girls (both 2004 and 2024) is that talking badly about someone will only create an endless cycle of hate and shame, that will leave people hurt - emotionally and physically. That all that talk won't magically make you smarter, prettier... It will only make you a bad person.
And yet... You go and bodyshame the entire cast of this new version??
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elen-aranel · 8 months
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Helloo~ May I make a Christopher Pike x reader request? It's a month old scuttlebutt, that the captain is involved with you, based solely on misconstrued events (leaving the direction of his quarters early morn in a rumpled uniform, stopping by medbay for a 'shot') Everyone knows that everyone knows, from cadet to captain. Except you don't. And noone has bothered checking. And the captain finds it funny (and you 'apparently' don't mind either as you've not bothered to shoot it down) so any moments you two have in view of others, he gives you a conspirational wink with some flirty banter. You think (hope) he's really flirting and not just being friendly.
Is it a bit much for a request? If so lemme know. Or i can commission? Idk. The idea hit me and it made me giggle with all the ways it could go.
Thank you so much for the request, and for your patience... this took a while! I hope you like the direction I've gone with it <333
Common Knowledge
Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings/Notes: Reader wears the dress version of the standard SNW uniform. Food mentions, alcohol mention. WC: 5.8k
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It all starts the morning after you spent gamma shift in a Jeffries tube. Well. Several Jeffries tubes, in fact, chasing down an issue with a relay that had blown and taken a bunch of circuitry out with it, including some life support systems.
You’re feeling good, though, as you step out into the corridor on a deck full of crew quarters. Yes, your red uniform dress is creased and you’re in dire need of a shower, but the relay and the burned-out circuitry are replaced, and all systems are back online.
You deserve a water shower, not a sonic one, you tell yourself as you head toward the turbolift, nodding to the occasional officer as you walk by them. You just need to make sure the ops console on the bridge is reading everything correctly, then your duty shift will be done.
“Commander, Lieutenant,” you greet Lieutenant Commander Chin-Riley and Lieutenant Ortegas as you enter the turbolift. Unlike you, they both look fresh and ready to face the day. Number One nods in greeting, but Ortegas looks you up and down quite blatantly, and you find you’re trying to smooth your skirt despite yourself.
“Long night?”
“I—” you start, but before you can reply—
“Computer, hold. Open the doors,” Commander Chin-Riley says, and as you turn, Captain Pike is walking into the lift. And somehow, even though you’ve been on the Enterprise for a while, you’re never not struck by his presence. His broad shoulders. How handsome he is.
“Good morning, Number One, Ortegas. Lieutenant.” He puts an odd weight on your title, even though of course he knows your name, and then your mind goes blank as he winks one of those blue eyes.
“C-captain,” you stutter, well aware of Ortegas trying to stifle a laugh next to you.
“Sleep well?” Una asks, something knowing in her voice, after the captain directs the turbolift to the bridge.
“I’ve had… more restful nights,” he says, and looks at you sideways, doubtless taking in your rumpled dress and less-than-fresh appearance. “Like the lieutenant here, I’d wager,” he adds, and you must have missed a memo somewhere because this ‘lift ride has gotten very weird, very fast.
You decide keeping quiet is your best bet — it’s a short ride, thank goodness.
But you can’t shake the feeling that there are eyes on you as you finish your work on the bridge.
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It may have started in a Jeffries tube, but it continues in sickbay.
You appreciate knowing sickbay is there. Doctor M'Benga and Nurse Chapel are skilled at their jobs, and you’ve had cause to be grateful for them when accidents happen, from a pulled muscle during a workout to a painful plasma burn from faulty equipment.
That doesn’t mean you love getting your quarterly check-up and shots. But you decided early on in your career that you weren’t going to be one of those people doctors had to chase for their physicals. Every three months you turn up. You’re due for routine vaccinations against some common alien viruses that human immune systems need reminders about, and your contraceptive shot.
Not that you really need it, of course. You aren’t getting any. The closest you’ve been since you joined the Enterprise was Lieutenant Paulson, a senior engineer who sometimes commands gamma shift when you’re on that rotation. He asked you out to dinner on Starbase 1, and while you like him as a person, you had to decline. You’d known him for a while, and never felt any kind of spark. And there’s been no-one— there’s been almost no-one else on the ship that you’re interested in. But still, you get your shot.
Today your appointment is during your shift. You didn’t want to be interrupted; you’re working on a new scanning device to be used on a planet with an unusual combination of atmosphere and magnetic field, which affects the resolution of normal scanners. So when your reminder went off you kept hold of your PADD, and you carried on entering the design parameters as you walked.
“Woah there,” a voice cuts through the equations you’re focussing on, and you feel hands on your arms, steadying you as you stumble.
As it turns out, walking with a PADD is a mistake.
Especially when you walk straight into the captain in the corridor outside sickbay.
“Captain! I’m so sorry! I—I was— I’ll pay more attention.” You look up, flustered, into his blue eyes, suddenly keenly aware of the bulk of him, of the controlled strength in his hands.  Happily, he seems amused rather than annoyed, that half smile playing about his lips.
“I do admire your... dedication, Lieutenant, but you’re right. Paying attention is a good idea.”
And as the doors to sickbay swish open, letting Chief Kyle and one of your fellow engineers out onto the corridor, you realise the captain hasn’t moved. You’re still in his space, and he’s still holding you.
“Captain, Lieutenant... are you joining us?” Nurse Chapel looks as though she’s suppressing a smile. “You’re, uh... both here for your quarterly shots, right?” she adds, as Pike finally steps back, and you walk with him into sickbay. You nod, mutely.
“Yes. Timed it perfectly this time, didn’t we Lieutenant?” he says, and he grins at you, knowing.
“Sure,” you find yourself saying, sitting down a little abruptly on the biobed Doctor M'Benga indicates. Is Pike… flirting with you? Or just being his usual warm self?
“This shouldn’t take too long. I’m sure you want to get back to your... duties.” M'Benga looks meaningfully at Pike, who shrugs, a picture of innocence.
“Can you blame us?”
You can’t help your smile.
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But actually, now you really think about it, maybe you’re wrong.  Maybe it started with the onions.
You have a shift free, moving from nights to days as you do on a semi-regular basis, since some edict came down from Starfleet that people shouldn’t just work nights for health reasons. It doesn’t entirely make sense to you; you’re on a ship, so it’s not like anyone has a real day or night, but being able to socialise with people who are always on alpha is a plus, and you suppose the same rules apply to planetary bases which do have day and night.
The captain has invited you to dinner. That isn’t special, even though you wish it were – he likes to get to know the whole crew in an informal setting, and it’s just your turn. And maybe you over-think it just a little, during the day, planning what to wear to make yourself look pretty but not like you’d tried too hard.
Either way, you are early. You only realise as you press the chime for the door, when it’s too late to back out.
But the captain’s smile is warm and welcoming. “Hi, come in, come in. You any good with a vegetable knife?”
You grin in return, relaxing. “Yes sir. It’s been a little while, but I can chop.”
“Chris. We’re not on the clock right now.”
“Yes, Chris.” You follow him into the kitchen area of his quarters, taking in the fire, the view of a green forest through the windows, all the details that mark the space as his.
“Excellent. That spatial anomaly today— well. I’m playing catch-up here.”
“Oh wow, you really are...” the vegetables are all laid out ready, and there are a lot. But then, you don’t know how many people will be here. “Set me to work. How do you want the carrots?”
Pike’s knives are sharp and well balanced, and it’s easy to chop carrots into even circles, and to dice potatoes into neat cubes. You chat, too, about the food he’s making, and the special unit he had the ship’s botanists set up to let him grow fresh herbs in space.
You’re pretty much on autopilot by the time you get to the onions. You know the technique: you slice them in half through the root, then make sure you don’t cut the root again as you cut from close to the root to the tip, then across into chunks.
“So, there’s something I’m curious about,” you say as you grab the next onion.
“Oh?” Pike pauses for a moment, hand poised over the control for the oven.
“The forest overlay you have for the windows. Is it somewhere special to you? It’s really lovely.” You blink a little as you chop. Perhaps you got a lash or something in your eye.
Pike presses the control on the oven, then turns to look at you. “No, actually it’s—” he frowns. “Wait, are you all right?”
You blink again. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Your brow draws together, and you put your knife down, turning to him a little more.
“Because you’re crying.” He starts towards you.
“Oh, damn.” You can feel it now — that tell-tale sting in your eyes. You look down at your chopping. “The onions. But I was being careful.” You sigh, blink again, and feel a tear roll down your cheek.
“If there are a lot it doesn’t matter how careful you are. I’m sorry, I should have done them.” He reaches past you, and you’re terribly aware of him in your space. He pulls off a piece of kitchen towel.
 “It’s not your fault—” the words die on your lips as he turns to face you, blue eyes filled with concern.
“I’ll just—I don’t want you to use your hands—” and he takes the towel and dabs your face, and you suck a little breath in at his closeness, wondering why it has to be in a circumstance like this, when the door chime goes. “Enter,” he says, distractedly, blotting away one more tear before stepping back. “There. No harm done. But you should wash up. Ah, Spock, perhaps you can take over the chopping.”
You look round to see that Spock, Sam Kirk, Ortegas and Uhura have all walked in, just in time to see you with red eyes from the onions. At least, you think as you wash the onion off your hands, your makeup is waterproof.
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Regardless of how things did or did not start, you’re pretty sure the captain only thinks of you as a friend. That this flirting is just a joke between the two of you... even if you wish it were real. Either way, you decide you might as well enjoy it.
You get back to the transport point from your solo hike on Chi Orianis Prime – it’s beautiful, with fluffy peachy-pink grass that’s soft underfoot and smells very slightly citrus-y when you tread on it, interspersed with lavender coloured bushes, with views of blue lakes and red mountains in the distance – right as Pike gets back from his fishing trip. Given how he’s carrying his cooler, it must have been a successful one.
You’re just about to ask him about it when Chapel and Ortegas arrive, with Uhura and La’an in tow, laughing together. They’re wearing t-shirts and shorts and sandals, carrying towels — clearly back from the beach, La’an actually looking like she might have caught the sun a little.
You take a step closer to him.
“Enjoy your trip?” The smile on Erica’s face is just a little too innocent.
“Yes, thank you. Wouldn’t have been the same without the lieutenant here, though.” Pike catches your eye, and you smile back at him, sappy, playing along.
“The captain’s right. We had a good time.”
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None of your close friends wanted to go to movie night with you tonight. They’re showing a classic 20th century Earth film, Casablanca, and none of them were interested in seeing something that old. But it seems pretty popular with the rest of the crew when you get there. You pick up some popcorn first, wondering once again whose idea it was to put a Starfleet delta on the containers, and you head to find a seat.
Maybe it was a good thing your friends didn’t come. There aren’t too many spaces left when you go to sit down, but there are a few seats a couple of rows in front of where Spock and Nurse Chapel are sitting together. You settle in, allowing yourself three pieces of popcorn before the lights go down.
And right before they do, Pike slides into the free seat next to you.
“I thought you were going to stand me up,” you tell him, tilting your popcorn container over.
“A gentleman would never,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he takes a piece.
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The back of the shuttle is open to the bay, and Cadets Novakova and Manuel, on engineering rotation, are standing inside it with you, PADDs in hand. You’ve popped a panel off the inside of the shuttle, and you indicate a junction point.
“So, okay. You want to interplex the circuitry here. What will be the result of that? What are you hoping to achieve?”
“Well, the increased signal strength will improve thruster response time and efficiency.” Manuel says, shrugging his broad shoulders like it’s obvious.
“Yes, and we need better responsiveness for the planet. The atmospheric differentials are almost out of spec.” Novakova nods. “This is the easiest way to achieve that.”
“All right. And looking at the systems in front of you, will there be any other consequences?”
“No, there shouldn’t, it should just—” there’s a pause, then Novakova steps back, playing with a twist of her blonde hair as she considers. “Wait. That pathway, it connects to the impulse engine as well, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does, and the boosted signal would go through there too…” Manuel’s fingers fly over his PADD.
They look at each other as the penny drops, and you notice Pike in the bay, listening in. You tilt your head and raise a brow in a silent invitation, but he shakes his head a little, content to observe.
“So if we interplex the circuitry there, we will get an increase in thruster efficiency, but at the expense of introducing instability into the impulse control matrix.” Manuel sighs.
“You’re flying along, minding your business and then boom. Impulse reactor overload.” Novakova winces. “I didn’t see that.”
You nod. “You didn’t. Because neither of you really looked. For what it’s worth, it would probably have worked on the shuttles at the academy. But these are a different model. You have to work with what’s actually in front of you. That’s half the battle.”
“Wise words, Lieutenant.” Pike leans into the back of the shuttle, and you can’t help your smile at the praise as the cadets turn to acknowledge him. “The two of you should take them to heart.”
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You're sitting on a bench in the bar, sipping a favourite drink, listening to Ensign Thyra play an Earth guitar but sing a wistful sounding song in her native Andorian, when Lieutenant Ortegas sits down next to you. And then Nurse Chapel sits on your other side.
“So, you and the captain. How’s that going?” Christine’s opening is straight to the point.
You give her a sceptical look. “It... isn’t? Hi to you too, by the way.” You turn to Erica. “To both of you.”
“Oh, come on. You guys are not subtle.” Erica rolls her eyes. “It’s been scuttlebutt for weeks. Me, Number One,” she starts counting off on her fingers, “Christine, Mbenga, Uhura...”
“Sam Kirk,” Christine adds.
“Yes, Sam Kirk, Spock, La’an...”
 “We’ve all seen it. I even heard the cadets talking about it. Everyone knows.”
You shake your head, putting your drink down on the table in front of you. “We’re not... I don’t—” you look from one to the other. “There’s nothing between the captain and me.” You take a breath. “He flirts, sometimes I flirt back, but it’s just a joke.”
“Doesn’t look like a joke to me.” Christine says, her voice soft, almost sympathetic.
Erica shrugs. “It’s okay. You don’t have to admit it, if you guys are keeping things to yourselves... We just wanted you to know that we’re happy for you. Pike should have someone on the ship. And you. You should have someone too.” Her smile as she stands to leave is genuine.
“I—I’m not hiding anything. But thanks, I guess? I appreciate the sentiment.”
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Arriving early when the captain invites you to a crew dinner is your habit now. You enjoy helping with prep when you can, and having a quiet moment to chat with Chris.
But this time you use the computer to check that others have arrived before you get there. You try to relax; these are your friends, Chris is your friend, but with what Erica and Christine said… you feel self-conscious. Second guessing everything you do and say.
 You leave as soon as you can without being rude.
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You feel a bit self-conscious with work, too, although you try to bury it. Especially with Pike piloting the shuttle for this mission. You’re sitting in your tactical uniform in the back of shuttle Kepler with Spock, Sam Kirk, La’an, and a couple more science officers. You would expect Kirk especially to pass some comment, but even he is quiet, because Zeta Lyrae VI’s wind shear is every bit as bad as science predicted.
A long-range scanning probe identified it as a possible source of dilithium as well as some other useful minerals — visual scan only, though, because the strange magnetic field prevented scanning of the interior. But that’s where the scanner you developed comes in. The visual scan also tagged some potential ruins which Kirk will investigate, and there’s general surveying to do too.
You grit your teeth against the turbulence. You trust that the captain’s piloting skills and the modifications you and the cadets made to the shuttle will see you safely to the ground, but you still feel motion sick. You know, though, there are pattern enhancers in the cargo. Perhaps you’ll be able to beam back up.
The turbulence lessens as you get deeper into the atmosphere, but you’re still very glad when the shuttle touches down. There’s a metallic tang to the air as the shuttle door opens, but it’s cool and refreshing despite that, and you take a deep breath, settling your rolling stomach, before you get to work.
The dawn sky of Zeta Lyrae IV is muted shades of pale blue and grey, warming a little to mauve-pink at the horizon, where the two suns have just risen. Barren-looking plains stretch out in front of you, with a river lazily meandering across, and there are hills leading to mountains not far away to your right. It’s hard to make out, but the lines of dark stones partially embedded in the ground to your left could well be the remains of a wall, and there are other, more defined structures further away in that direction.
“Lieutenant, you have everything you need?”
“Yes sir.” You lift your last case again, the heavy one, and try to keep your face blank at the weight of it. You know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but its contents were too large for your backpack. “I’ve identified a site two kilometres away that’s suitable for the scanner base. Enhanced scanning should be online within an hour.”
Pike nods. “Kirk, La’an, you have the ruins. Spock, the science survey is yours.” He turns to you. “Let me help with that.”
“I’m fine, honestly,” you protest as Pike takes the case from you, fingers brushing yours for one tiny electric moment.
“We’ll make quicker time if we share the load. Which I’m sure Spock will appreciate.”
“Aye, sir.”
You notice that there’s no flirtatious comment today.
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This planet feels a bit like a dream, with its dead quiet, muted colours, pearly grey sky and the two suns gently highlighting the landscape. The only evidence you can see of the turbulent atmosphere are the occasional blue-green clouds scudding quickly across the sky.
You pick your way through the pathless terrain, looking for any signs of life. While there are scraps of ragged looking vegetation here and there, a lot of it seems dead, and the planet as a whole seems mostly barren.
You don’t make conversation; there’s something about the planet’s quiet and your confused emotions that steals your ability to make small talk, and Pike is quiet too. There’s just the sound of two pairs of boots crunching on the ground.
Until you almost step on a flower: a seven petaled bloom in the shape of a star, pale blue in the middle deepening to grey-purple just at the tips. You pause to get a better look, to see if there are any others like it nearby, but it seems solitary.
“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”
You look up to see Pike has stopped too, mild concern on his face.
“Yes sir, I’m fine.” You straighten up. “I just... this flower is the only one I’ve seen, and I wonder... is it the last gasp of the life that used to live on this planet, or is it a glimpse of hope for the future?”
Pike glances at the flower, but his focus is on you when he speaks. “We’ll likely never know, but I... I choose hope.”
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The site you chose from the visual scan is obvious when you get there. You’re at the edge of the hills, and there’s a grey cliff curving round one edge of a flat open area. Geophysics had identified it as a potential location for dilithium, and as you get close you can see veins of the pink crystal running through the rock.
Now you just need to find out how much there is.
With Pike helping it doesn’t take too long to set the scanner up. You start with the base in the case he was carrying, and together you fold it out into a large circle, locking struts and its three legs in place.
You attach the probe that will drill into the soil, the antennas to communicate with the smaller unit near the shuttle and with the Enterprise, and to facilitate scanning in the atmosphere. Finally, you attach the computer from your backpack which is the brains of the system — you can’t help your private smile of satisfaction as it comes online. The shuttle is far enough away that its systems don’t affect the sensitive scans, and when the probe deploys and calibration data flows straight through immediately.
You talk to Commander Pelia and Lieutenant Spock on comms, making adjustments on the fly to the different parameters, optimising the uplink from the scanner and away team’s tricorders to the Enterprise.
Pike checks in with La’an at some point, but next time you look up you see he’s a little way away, tricorder out, following a standard scanning pattern working outward from where you are. You’re a little surprised he didn’t tell you that’s what he was going to do. Then the scanner beeps as the drill returns a result outside expected tolerances, pulling your focus.
It’s easier to get lost in your work than think about him, and for a long while, you do.
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“Lieutenant, do you see that?” There’s a note of concern in Pike’s voice, and you follow his gaze to the horizon to your right.
It almost looks like a distant rain shower would on Earth, but there are green lights sparking all through it. Like lightning but less directional. You take a breath, and realise the metallic smell has intensified, to the point you can almost taste it.
“Yes, sir, I do.” You turn and meet Pike’s eyes.
“Plasma storm?”
“Plasma storm.” You redirect your scanner’s gain to maximum in that direction, sacrificing resolution elsewhere.
Pike’s tone is rueful. “Should’ve known when I scanned a burned patch of vegetation. It must have developed quickly.”
“Looks like it’s moving fast, too.”
“I’ll contact the rest of the away team, have them meet us at the shuttle. You start packing.”
“Sir,” you reply, distracted, already deep in the scanner readouts. You vaguely hear Pike calling Spock, then La’an, but you’re focused on one last scan.
“Lieutenant? I gave you an order.”
“Yes sir, you did, but look.” You point to the readout of the storm’s speed on the screen. “Scans show that even if we leave right now, we can’t make it back to the shuttle before the storm hits. We don’t even have time for them to pick us up.”
Pike frowns. “Options?”
“The cliff. There’s a cave system behind it. I don’t think there’s an entrance close enough, but...”
“Phasers? All this dilithium makes it risky.”
“Plasma burns are no fun, sir. I would know.”
He raises a brow. “Sounds like a story for later. All right. Let’s do this.”
You grab your phaser from your holster and dial the power up.
“Fire.”
You focus your beam on the weakest spot, and Pike fires at it too. And... nothing happens, for long enough for a shade of doubt to creep in. Then there’s a sound, a pile of rubble, and a gap. Just large enough for a person.
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The cave is dark. It’s big, too, enough that the torches on your vests can’t illuminate the other side from where you are.
The storm is still raging outside, but the sound of it is quiet in here; the narrow space you opened the gap into curved round for a few metres before opening out into the space you’re in.
Now all you can do is sit and wait.
And you’re so aware of Pike, sitting with you.
He’s quiet, and now you come to think of it he has been all day. Definitely no flirting. You try to steal a glance at him, see what he’s thinking, but it’s too dark, and you don’t want to turn to face him.
You cast around for a distraction, and find a piece of dilithium embedded in the rock floor of the cavern next to you. The surface is flat and glassy-smooth, but with a few imperfections, and you like the feel of it under your fingers. In your head you go over the dilithium crystal eigenstates you memorised at the academy in one of your classes in warp field mechanics, and calculate the power output you would need for your phaser to trigger different levels.
“Sir, I’d like to try something, to give us some more light. It’s safe.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
You adjust your phaser to its second lowest setting, scoot across a little and fire on the dilithium, counting seconds in your head. It starts glowing red immediately, but as you shut the beam off the glow spreads, along one vein, then another, then another, until the whole cavern is lit up like its own galaxy, surrounding you on the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
“Wow, that’s—that’s good work. Thank you.”
There’s something in his expression as he looks at you, the wonder in his eyes melting into a smile, that makes you brave.
“So… I had an—an interesting chat with Chapel and Ortegas the other day.”
“Oh?”
“Apparently the scuttlebutt is that we’re dating... we’ve been dating for a while. They wouldn’t believe me when I told them it wasn’t true.” You stare out across the cavern at all the glimmering lights.
“Oh.” He exhales. “Hah, yeah… I’m, uh, sorry about that? Things… got away from me.” You hear him stir, move into a different position.
You frown. “I don’t understand. What are you sorry for?”
“I’ve always been interested in you. And you’re not the sort of person that’s cowed by rank – Paulson is your superior, in your chain of command, but I was in the bar when he asked you to dinner, and you were so sure of yourself when you rejected him. So that day in the turbolift, Una and Erica jumping to conclusions... Your face was a picture, and I had to take Una’s bait. But by the time she told me there was already a rumour, you were joining in, and I—”
His voice goes quiet, like a confession.
“I couldn’t stop. And that wasn’t fair to you… making you an object of gossip like that.”
“Chris, I—” but now it comes to it, you can’t find the words. How do you tell him that you wouldn’t mind, not at all, if only the gossip were real? “But you did stop. We’ve barely spoken today. Until now.”
“I can read the room. You weren’t up for it the other night. Or today. And… I would never force my attentions where they clearly aren’t wanted.”
“But... they are, Chris. They are wanted.”
The cavern is dead quiet, and you almost wonder if you actually spoke aloud. But the look in Pike’s eyes when you finally turn to meet them—
“Lieutenant Spock to Captain Pike. Come in, please.”
Pike shrugs a little, face apologetic, as he flips open his communicator.
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The ride back to the Enterprise is as quiet, and bumpy, as the ride to the planet. Spock and the rest of the away team had sheltered in the shuttle with shields up while the storm passed over them, and when the Enterprise’s scanners had shown that another one was forming, they came to pick you up.
All the equipment you left outside was destroyed.
But you think, as you climb in the shuttle, you catch a glimpse of one of those star-shaped flowers, still intact. Still blooming.
And Pike makes a point to catch your eye as you leave the shuttle bay. It’s subtle, but you recognise the invitation.
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You think you can smell food as you press Pike’s door chime, and the scent only gets more appetising as you walk in. The lights are low, apart from the fire burning brightly, and Pike pauses, apron on over his gold uniform, to smile at you as you walk over to the kitchen area.
“You came.”
“Of course.”
He picks a small bottle up, and pours from it into a salad bowl in front of him. “I hope you’re hungry… I may have gone a little overboard on the mac and cheese. I thought we could use a little comfort food after that planet.”
“It smells amazing. Anything I can do to help?”
“It’s almost ready. You could pour the wine?” He indicates to the bottle and two glasses on one end of his L shape table. You uncork the chilled bottle and take care of the drinks while he brings plates, salad, and the macaroni cheese, piping hot and smelling delicious.
Sitting next to Chris, rather than opposite like you might at a restaurant or on the other side of the L as you have when you’ve been to crew meals here, feels so intimate. As he reaches over to get some salad, or you go to pick up your glass to sip some chardonnay, you can’t help but touch. You try not to let being this close to him distract you… as intimate as this is, as hopeful as you are, nothing is settled.
You take a bite of your pasta and sigh. “It’s perfect, Chris. Creamy, the cheese— everything. Perfect comfort food. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” You see him relax a little as you load up another forkful; he cares what you think.
You eat for a while in companionable quiet, then he takes a breath.
“I’m planning on demoting Spock. He has the worst timing.” He quirks one of those half smiles at you, the kind that make you melt a little, but then his expression goes serious.
“My position on this ship… I have to be careful of it. Your training – everyone’s training – tells you to do as I say. So, if I’m… interested… in someone, usually I try to set that aside.” He puts his fork down and shakes his head a little. “Clearly I didn’t do well on that score with you. But… I would have to be sure, before I truly pursue anything, that a person isn’t saying yes because of my rank.”
“I told myself that flirting was just a joke between us. That you don’t get involved with your crew. I want it to be real, but when people assumed that it was… It spooked me for a moment there.” You turn to face him more fully, to look into his eyes.
“I understand what it means for you to be Captain Pike. I understand that the Enterprise comes before me. But I felt that—that pull toward you, long before whatever this was started. It’s not your rank, your position of authority, Chris, it’s you.”
Chris stands from his chair, reaching a hand out to you. You stand and take it, his fingers warm in yours, and let him draw you to him, feeling the press of his body all along yours. You stare into his eyes, and see a wonder there that you’re sure he sees in your eyes too – the knowledge that you can finally have this. But then your eyes drift shut as he kisses you, gently, unhurried, savouring the moment.
You part for just a second, and then it gets passionate as you kiss him back, one hand on his chest, while his other hand finds its way to your lower back, holding you tighter. Your lips part, his tongue finds yours and you taste him, and you can’t get enough.
“So I know your shots are up to date,” Chris says, voice gravelly, when you pause for breath. “Would you like to take this to the bedroom?”
“Yes please.” You don’t care if you sound needy; you just want him. He takes your hand again and leads the way.
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You are not quite sure what happened to your dress. You remember Chris helping you take it off last night, but quite how it got this crumpled is a bit of a mystery. You lift it up from the floor, and try to shake it out, not very successfully.
“Breakfast is served,” Chris says, looking fresh and neat in his uniform, not a hair out of place. No evidence to be seen of your activities last night, or how little sleep he may have had. “Oh, did you want a new uniform? I can synthesise one.”
“No need. I’ll have time to change in my quarters before shift.” You pull it on and try to smooth your skirt. “Breakfast?”
“Waffles. And real maple syrup. I know this little farm—”
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It isn’t far from Pike’s quarters to the turbolift, and the officers in the corridor nod and smile to you as usual. Until you meet Lieutenant Ortegas.
She looks you up and down, taking in your creased dress with a raised brow and a sly smile. “I saw the duty rosters; I know you’re on alpha today. So… you get lucky last night?”
You try to hide your smile, but you feel too good – you don’t really want to.
“Yes, Erica, I did.”
Everyone will know, but you don’t mind. You and Chris are at the start of something special.
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true-bluesargent · 6 months
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such a weird choice for the writers to make lorelai love dean so much (to the point of it being creepy) and then have her hate both of rory's other boyfriends. like why did they do that
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moonylouwho · 15 days
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i want buck to mention a date with tommy while in the firetruck going to a call and ravi is like ???? tommy ???? i thought you and eddie were a thing ??? and everyone is just silent
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glbtrx · 8 months
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Nasuada really asked Murtagh if there was a possibility that Galbatorix fell in love with a concubine . Like. Girl. This man does not have a heart you need to get that
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sitting-on-me-bum · 4 months
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Sinai agama (Pseudotrapelus sinaitus)
Christoph Dieterle / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0
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Hey here's some
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Ghost and Pals tarot cards (Part 2)
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"Atheism by itself is, of course, not a moral position or a political one of any kind, it simply is the refusal to believe in a supernatural dimension. To say of Nazism that it was the implementation of the work of Charles Darwin is a filthy slander, undeserving of you and an insult to this audience. Darwin's thought was not taught in Germany; Darwinism was so derided in Germany along with every other form of unbelief that all the great modern atheists, Darwin, Einstein and Freud were alike despised by the National Socialist regime." -- Christopher Hitchens
This accusation by religionists doesn't make sense on the face of it.
Evolution - or "Darwinism" - asserts that humans and other species are evolved from common ancestors. That humans share an ancestral line, and variations are minor local adaptations to climate and other forces. That is, there can be no "master race," and there can be no such thing as Aryan purity.
Xians are often offended at the idea they're descended from apes. The classic meme goes something like: "I ain't descended from no apes, I'm descended from a magic dirt man and a rib woman and two waves of incest!"
So, the idea that the Nazis would ever ground their ideology in evolution through natural selection and common ancestry tells us that the claimant hasn't thought very hard about this. Or perhaps, doesn't understand evolution at all. Promoting the ideas of evolution and common ancestry is the absolute last thing the Nazis would ever do.
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spockvarietyhour · 2 years
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Stargate Atlantis “Common Ground”
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skellyweb · 1 year
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wow can you guys believe klei replaced every single character with ghost and pals? that's super weird.
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um anyways the reason this is a super random mix of characters is because i got sick of making these and I only finished my favorites. i was going to do case 2 and three, but i just really didnt feel like it lol. maybe ill make them if this post get one million notes.
individual sprites under cut
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curator-on-ao3 · 6 months
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For the thing, I was going to make you talk to me about Fly Me To The Moon, but I will be nice or anyway more recent and pick The Week instead.
Oh my goodness, @grissomesque, thank you! ❤️ I’ll talk about both. 🥰
Fly Me to the Moon is without a doubt the most technically difficult story I have ever written. This multi-chap J/P has two time periods that must move together to up the stakes for our characters with the latter time period’s episode-specific linear time dependent on the earlier time period for a key event our characters need to understand that gets peeled back for the reader layer by layer. And that’s not all! Then each time period fractures into parallel universes, again marching in tandem. In sum, the story has four universes, three canon and one AU, and digs into key episodes while also existing outside of them. My outline was bananas. Despite that outline, I fully rewrote the first chapter no less than five times. I didn’t know if anyone would read the story or like it or understand it.
But I enlisted the help of a wonderful beta who reassured me everything actually made sense.
I posted the first chapter and held by breath.
And, let me tell you, that story was the best commenting experience I have ever had.
A commenter told me she went to transcripts because she so much disagreed with my characterization of Tom Paris, then saw that what she thought was in the transcripts wasn’t there and her vision of Tom is different now.
A P/T shipper commented that she was almost rooting for J/P and what the what, also she said she never commented chapter by chapter but she was enjoying the story that much.
Comments were so kind, so thoughtful, so insightful on this story I had worked my ass off to write. It was every writer’s dream and I wish for an experience like that for everyone.
In terms of the fic itself, one of my favorite parts to write was the “Author, Author” Janeway and Paris holograms malfunctioning because that creeped me out. Similarly, I enjoyed writing Janeway cross-examining her “Worst Case Scenario” hologram self. The commonality of both canon holo-programs depicting the Janeway and Paris bond was such a treat to explore.
Okay! Whew! I will always be delighted to talk about Fly Me to the Moon.
In terms of The Week … that story means so much to me. The Week is a Pikeuna one-shot and a follow-up to a Pikeuna ficlet called The Weekend, both written between seasons one and two.
In The Weekend, Chris and Una are students at the academy and he’s utterly oblivious to the fact that 1. he’s smokin’ hot when he’s shirtless and making her pancakes, and 2. she’s weird. Like, “humans don’t do that, my dude,” weird. I had an absolute blast writing young, bumbling, trying-so-hard Pikeuna.
The Week catches up with our heroes two decades later while the Enterprise is getting a computer upgrade after sitting out the Klingon War. Chris and Una have been a couple that whole time (it’s not an AU, I sob) and they have this wonderfully settled love in which Chris has figured out a bunch of stuff … mostly correctly but definitely not quite all there. I wanted to explore an old, deep, and meaningful love that doesn’t nullify the essential loneliness of the self (because nothing does), yet a love that still helps people find their best selves through care for each other.
There is also porn.
And, let me tell you, writing old, established sex was really fun. (I am just now realizing that both Fly Me to the Moon and The Week have old, established sex, with Fly Me to the Moon more graphic when they’re younger while The Week is more graphic when they’re older.) Anyway, this is sex for two people who have tried all the positions together and know what they like. Two people who have a shorthand for sex just like anything else. And, of course, one person who enjoys his longtime partner but started banging her before either of them had enough experience to know that some of what she does is absolutely not possible for a human body.
So, yeah, I enjoyed writing the sex. Especially the book-oriented sex scene.
I also found great meaning and a sad sort of satisfaction in writing Una’s fears around racist humans. When Una speaks with the woman in the grocery store and Una is so, so scared and covering it up with bravado … damn. I purposefully wrote that in a way that I hoped would resonate for other minorities — and commenters (some of them privately), without knowing my intention, told me it did. That choice became satisfying again when Ad Astra Per Aspera similarly expanded Una’s backstory to resonate for experiences of many members of historically underrepresented communities.
Um, I have rambled here and had an absolutely marvelous time doing it. Thank you so much, @grissomesque. I deeply appreciate you asking about these two stories. 💙
Want more information about a fic I wrote? Send me an ask.
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uwudonoodle · 25 days
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Storytime: My grandpa was like a legit cowboy. He owned a dairy farm way out in the country, was a boy scout master for most of his life, and loved to go camping and ride horses. Pretty much the only thing he'd watch was old westerns, especially John Wayne movies.
One time when he was visiting us, I was watching Back to the Future 3. He happened to wander past the TV just after Marty got to 1885. He usually never watched TV with me, but he sat down and watched the rest of the movie. He was laughing at all the right parts, and was sitting on the edge of his seat during the train chase... I'm sure he was confused near the end when Marty got back to 1985, but I guess he just decided to ignore that part.
For a week straight, he bragged to anyone who would listen that his teenaged granddaughter showed him the best western he'd seen in years. It had everything - a shootout, a train chase, and the bad guy even wore a black hat! (He laughed so hard when Buford got covered in manure.) The people would turn to me and ask what movie it was, and looked so confused when I said Back to the Future.
Don't let anyone tell you Back to the Future 3 isn't a western. My grandpa will come back from the dead to fight you.
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monstrousmaws · 19 hours
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Assigning Ghost and Pals Characters Magnus Archives Fears
Christopher Pierre - The Spiral and The Stranger
Nancy Elsner - The Slaughter
Henry Elsner - The Lonely
Kennith Simmons - The Spiral
Nana/Dizzy - The Stranger
Norman - The Web and The Stranger
Candle Queen - The Desolation
Tamari and Mariyam - The Stranger
Arc and Say - The Stranger
Slurpee - The Corruption
Cakey - The Flesh
Trash Dentist and Tooth Hurty - The Flesh
Ray Barnett and Evelynn - The Web
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I made. A Peacemaker iceberg
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thanks.
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