#everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

[enterprisetrampstamp]

1. jim and scotty

it’s been so long since I started writing this that I genuinely have no idea what the specific prompt was or where to find it, but!

***

“CAPTAIN ON DECK,” Lieutenant Givens bellows, and Jim winces and takes an involuntary half-step to the side in response as everyone- including those ensigns on the far end of the large room- looks up and snaps briefly to attention before returning to their duties at Jim’s nod.

G grins and throws up a salute that somehow manages to be both sarcastic and sincere all at once. “Voted best set of lungs in the department,” they offer, not sounding at all sympathetic to Jim’s busted eardrum.

“I see why you and my yeoman get along so well,” he comments dryly, waving off the salute. “At ease, Lieutenant.”

“Yessir,” they say, sounding thickly amused, but- likely conscious of the fact that Jim’s their commanding officer- they refrain from the multitude of snappy comebacks Jim can see waiting on the tip of their tongue. Turning smartly on their heel, they continue on their way to the nearest Jeffries tube–but not without calling over their shoulder, a smirk hidden somewhere in the corners of their lips, “The chief’s in his office, for once.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Jim says, and tries not to feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

He’s the captain of this ship; he’s well within his rights to check in on his engineering department, and of course that involves checking in with his chief engineer. This has nothing to do with–

Scotty looks up when he strides inside the office, and his face breaks into its usual jovial grin. “Cap’n!”

Jim can’t possibly help but grin back. “Mr. Scott. I was hoping–”

“Aye, sir; already ahead of ye.” Scotty leaps up from his chair- likely having been hoping for an excuse to give up on his paperwork anyway- and bustles out the door, leaving Jim to fall into step in his wake. “The lads ‘n’ lasses ‘n’ Lieutenant Givens ‘n’ I’ve been workin’ on a way to iron out the, ah–” he raises his eyebrows, tone lowering significantly– “issues we bin havin’.”

Jim winks at him, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. “Lead the way, Mr. Scott.”

Four hours later, and he’s covered in grease and propped up on his elbows deep in the bowels of the Enterprise. Scotty’s talking--he’s been talking for a good long while, waving a wrench around with his eyes lit up with the kind of simple delight that can only be found when you’re doing exactly that which you were placed on this world to do. Jim’s long since lost the thread of the conversation; not because he can’t understand the concepts Scotty’s discussing so much as that he’s letting the words crash over him like a tidal wave of passionate theoretical physics.

Scotty pauses, one hand resting on the beam of the ship, and the silence is enough for Jim to guiltily startle into focus. “She’s a lovely lady,” Scotty finally says, his tone and his touch reverent.

“She’s a good ship,” Jim agrees. It’s an understatement, of course, but there aren’t words to describe the way he loves his ship.

“The best ship in Starfleet,” Scotty protests--she’s his ship, too, just as much as Jim’s. There’s no one in the Federation, not even her designers, who understand the Enterprise the way the two of them do.

Jim can’t help the way his tone drops, just slightly, into mischief--into... flirting. “With the best Chief of Engineering in Starfleet, to boot.”

“Aye, sir!” Scotty’s chest puffs up with pride. “An’ it’s an honor, sir, to--”

“Scotty,” he cuts in, delicately insistent. “Sometimes, you can just call me Jim.”

They lock eyes for a moment, Jim’s warm and amused, Scotty’s wide and surprised. Then the Scotsman nods, slowly, and his grin is that little bit different as he settles back to face the paneling he’d removed just before going off on his lengthy tangent.

“Aye, Jim,” he says, slow like he’s testing it out. “Back t’ work, eh?”

There’s a warm, comfortable energy between them for the next hour, hovering in the air as they talk about conduits and warp cores till Jim is finally called away to deal with an incident on the bridge. He can’t help the bounce in his step as he goes, nodding goodbye as Lt. Givens wiggles their fingers in a knowing wave.

Sure, getting Scotty to call him “Jim” isn’t much, but every journey begins with a single step, right?

#jim kirk #montgomery scott #scirk #tos jim and scotty only know how to flirt over copies of the enterprise blueprints #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag #wristwatch6minslow #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

“If anyone hurts you, they’re getting hurt worse.” / Stephcass!

As soon as Stephanie answers the video call, Cassandra knows there is something wrong.

She’s freshly showered, long blonde hair darkened to a mousy brown and pulled over one slightly damp shoulder, when normally she’s as fresh off patrol as Cass is poised to leave for hers. That alone could mean nothing but that Barbara forced her to take an early night because of a text the next morning–but the careful positioning of her arms screams of intense bruising around her abdomen and ribs.

“Hey, Cassie,” Stephanie says, her tone soft and fond and her smile forced-casual, and Cassandra has never been gladder to speak body language more fluently than English. Otherwise she might be fooled.

“What happened?” she demands, fingers tight on either side of her tablet.

Stephanie breathes out sharply through her nose, her mouth twisting into rueful-exasperated-fondness because she knows she shouldn’t have even bothered trying to hide from Cassandra. “Won’t you just let me have a secret or two?” she complains, making an abbreviated sweep of one arm that’s two parts showmanship and one part sincere.

“No.” Cassandra narrows her eyes as Stephanie snorts, sprawling back on her bed–the video goes shaky and catches mostly sheets and floor and pointy, shower-flush elbow before Stephanie steadies it back on her face.

“What happened?” she repeats. Presses. The edge of her chair is biting into the backs of her thighs through her Black Bat costume, she’s leaning towards the camera so insistently.

“Took a face full of sleep gas right as I took a jump off a building. Bungled the landing by way of a healthy slam into a window frame.” Stephanie’s fingers ghost over her ribs, pain in the tilt of her smile, but her eyes are sincere. “Almost makes me miss the face mask from my Spoiler costume, but at least I got the guy with an electro-gooperang, so I was able to call the cops before limping home. I just didn’t want to worry you; it’s not like there’s anything you can do.”

The reminder of the miles between Hong Kong and Gotham yawns between them for several long moments, and Cassandra frowns even as Stephanie’s smile grows wider.

“What are you thinking?” she says, and there’s teasing laughter in the way she tilts her head. “Gonna take that fancy plane of yours and zoom over to Gotham just to punch a guy who’s already in custody?” She drops her voice into a growl that Cassandra recognizes from half a dozen poorly-timed Bruce impressions. “Anyone hurts you, I’ll hurt them worse!”

“I could.” It’s not what she was thinking- her thoughts are never so easily translated into words, even after the accidental tampering of a well-meaning telepath- but it’s still true.

Stephanie laughs out loud this time. “No wonder you’re his favorite kid.”

Cassandra can’t help but smirk in return. “That’s actually because I’m the prettiest.”

“I’m telling Dick you said that.”

The wind picks up outside her open window, dragging the smells of the city into the apartment, scattering the papers and wrappers strewn across the floor, and tugging at the ends of Cassandra’s hair. Her mask- waiting patiently on the other end of the desk- skitters a foot towards her, and she sighs ruefully.

Stephanie snorts on the other end of the line, then follows it with a yawn. “Go save the world, or at least Hong Kong. We’ll text in your morning.”

Cassandra smiles, studying the drowsiness in her shoulders and the corners of her eyes. “Sleep it off,” she advises, and Stephanie offers her a lazy-slow thumbs up.

“That’s the plan. Love you,” she mumbles. “Miss you, too,” she adds, raw and sincere and vaguely embarrassed, and…

Gotham’s only a few hours away by Batplane. Hong Kong won’t fall apart without Black Bat’s presence for one night.

“Love you, too,” she promises, though Stephanie has already drifted off. “And see you soon.”

#cassandra cain #stephanie brown #stephcass #batfamily #femslash #fic tag #thank u bonnie! #jessicamiriamdrew #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

[faterpresources]

Anonymous:

Do you have any advice on how to start an rp blog? I feel like there's so much to do and so many specific things, it looks intimidating, but I really want to get into it (and your blog seems like a safe space to ask as a baby in the matter)

Hi! Thanks you for asking and for trusting. I do admit that rping on tumblr can look daunting and there is a series of things that are considered “etiquette” that might not be obvious for newcomers. And the only way to learn is to ask, right? As I’m not sure if you would like something more specific or a step-by-step, I’m going to go through the whole process.

note: this is a repost from an ask in a more reblog-friendly format

1.       Setting up the blog

You might want to make a new e-mail account for each blog you want. I recommend making a gmail/google account, so you may be able to use other services and associate them with your blog. I’ll go into more details in a minute.

Some people would rather have a personal blog and then making the RP blog as a side-blog. Or a “hub” blog and many side-blogs so they have everything centralized. The downside is that you can’t follow people with side-blogs, only the main – and some rpers are a little suspicious of personal blogs, so if you intend to go this route it might be a good idea to state somewhere in your blog that you have a RP blog.

Tip : It isn’t said too often, but I recommend saving your blog’s e-mail and password somewhere, maybe a flashdrive or even google drive. This way, if something happens you will be able to retrieve your account.

When picking the URL, for a very long time tumblr had problems tagging URLs with a hyphen ( - ). I’m not sure if it has been fixed or if there are still some issues, so I recommend only using letters and maybe numbers. Other than that, pick anything that sounds nice to you!

Themes are nice, but not entirely necessary. Not everybody has photoshop skills and all that. Some people do have commissioned themes, but if you want to try your hand at it my first stop is usually @theme-hunter  or @sheathemes . They reblog many themes from many creators, so there are always many options that might suit your needs.  Some creators offer very newcomer-friendly themes that you can configure a lot of things without much hassle but some might require basic HTML knowledge – a few creators have guides on how to properly set up their themes and are willing to and answer questions, so don’t be afraid to contact them! You can also send me an ask, I’m not a specialist but I can certainly help walk you through the basics.

Tip: @glenthemes have very good themes and a basic installation guide here.

When fiddling with the options, try to pick colors that have nice contrast and are easy to read. If you are bad at picking colors or have problems in finding the code for them, I recommend trying this link. There is also this one that auto-generate palettes.

Tip : If you mess with your theme, remember there is the Theme Recovery.

Tip: If you use Chrome or Firefox you can set up different profiles and associate each with a different blog, so you don’t need to log out from any of your accounts.

There are two pages that I recommend having: one is an about your muse. If they are an OC, it is always a good idea to have at least some information out there to make things easier. If they are from a canon source, not everybody is familiar with the material so it might be a good idea to state. For example, if you are going to roleplay as Altria/Arturia, it is a good idea to have a “RP blog for Saber (Altria Pendragon) from FGO/FSN “ somewhere visible. The other page that is a good idea having is a rules/guidelines page. This one can be a little intimidating, but it is usually a way to communicate important things. For example: are you comfortable writing violence? Do you have any personal triggers? There is something you absolutely won’t write? There are things you may figure out along the way and it is absolutely ok to fine-tune this session every now and then. Some people also credit source for their icons and graphics in general in their rule/guideline page.

If you are using the tumblr default themes, when you create a new page you can turn on the option to show a link to the page. If you are using a custom theme, most of the time you will have to link it manually.

Oh, and if you are planning to do a multimuse, it might be a good idea to list which muses you have. The same goes for a hub blog; list the muses and link to the pages.

Icons aren’t necessary but are considered commonplace. You can find some icons I’ve done here but there are plenty of other sources. If you want to do your own icons, keep in mind to don’t make them too big, as a courtesy to your mutuals.

Tip: Anything larger than 300 pixels will be stretched to fit the post. As of today ( 4/29/2021 ) the posts are currently 540 pixels wide. This can be useful as making banners for your blog.

Tumblr allow users to “pin” posts. This mean that they will always visible if you access your blog, even on dash/mobile. You can use this to set up a post with basic links for mobile users or something else. For example, if you are out on vacations and won’t be able to do replies, you can pin a hiatus notice and then remove the pin once you are back.

2.       Introducing yourself

Time to officially join the fun! (insert a “Hi, Zuko here” joke) Don’t worry if you don’t have a fancy promo graphic or anything, most people make their initial introduction with a simple post.

(as you can see, I’m not very good at saying ‘hi’)

Try to introduce yourself in a few lines, but make sure to state which muse you RP as. Some people also like adding their pen name/alias and establishing a brand. Follow as many people as you want that reblogged or liked your post, and tumblr is going to start recommending other blogs that are related to the tags you use normally or have any relation to the people you follow. You can put as many tags as you want, but tumblr will disregard more than 6 tags in their system. Try tags like “<fandom> rp” and “<fandom> roleplay” along with the media, such as “movie” “video game”, “anime” and so on.

It might also be a good idea to follow a few RP memes blogs. They often have options to break the ice, like one-liners that your mutual can send you.

Tip: Don’t forget to turn on the asks and the anon

3.       Practical advice

Alright, now that you have a few mutuals, it is time to get to some general tips:

Tumblr can be a little “iffy”, and a great quality of life extension for RPers and navigation in general is installing the New Xkit extension. They offer a number of options to enhance your tumblr experience, but the ones I consider essential are the “editable reblogs”, “quick tags” and “blacklist”. Get it for Chrome or Firefox.

As a rule of thumb I recommend writing your RPs using Google Docs before posting or replying. By doing this you can do some spell check and if your browser crashes for any reason you can easily recover your work. You can also use Word, Open Office, or any text editor you feel like.

Because I’m a bit of a perfectionist, I also have Grammarly ( Chrome / Firefox ) installed for an extra layer of spell/grammar check. There is a subscription option, but the free one works perfectly fine.

To make things easier to locate, always tag the URL of your RP partner when doing a reply. There are other useful things you can tag, such as open starters, memes, and such.

Risking being obvious here, but when you are not interacting as your character it might be a good idea to tag as “ooc” or “out of character”.

Some people like making google docs with basic info and other useful stuff for easier access on mobile. It is a recent trend, it might be easier to edit as opposed to going through tumblr page editor and dealing with the HTML.  You can find some templates here and here.

Tumblr’s activity can be unreliable, so don’t be afraid of contacting your partner to see if they have gotten your reply after a few weeks. However, some people also enjoy using the RP Thread Tracker in order to be on top of things. It might be a good idea to check it out.

Because of Tumblr shadowbanning and shenanigans, it isn’t unusual for people to have NSFW sideblogs (sometimes referred as ‘sin blogs’). If you want to write smut, it might be a good idea to consider making one.

Some people don’t like replying to asks, as Tumblr won’t let you remove the initial ask. It has become common to see people making new posts to reply to asks.  This is a simple example:

As you can see, I used the mention to have the RP partner notified then I copied and pasted their question on my post and used the quote to indicate it. You can also have fancy graphics, like a line to separate the contents, just do whatever you feel like with the formatting or keep it simple.

To make sure your partner got the answer, I recommend copying the link to the post and pasting on the ask and then replying it privately.  An example sent to my rp blog:

4.       Basic Etiquette

Ok, this is a little subjective most of the time but here are a few things that are considered universal courtesy.

Never reblog someone else’s headcanons. If you enjoy it, maybe it should politely contact the author and ask if it is ok to write something based on their original idea but you should never downright copy or lift something from another creator. It is considered rude, or even theft in some cases.

Don’t reblog threads you are not involved with. It is ok to leave a like, but never reblog. This is because Tumblr can mess up the notifications and disrupt the flow of the RP.

Don’t copy other people’s graphics. It is very rude and sometimes they commission (aka: paid) for it.

Trim your posts. What does that mean? Every time you reblog with a reply, the post tends to get longer and longer, and it can cluster your and your mutuals’ dashes. This is why the New X-Kit’s “editable reblogs” is an almost must-have tool. If for some reason you can’t install X-Kit (if you are on mobile for example), then remove the previous post or ask your partner to trim for you.

Never take control of your RP partner’s muse. This is called “godmodding” and it is heavily frowned upon. It is ok to control your muse and the possible NPCs that you inserted, but never seize someone else’s character. Likewise, it can also be very upsetting if you use what people call “meta-gaming”, applying knowledge that your muse shouldn’t know about the other. For example, let’s say your RP partner’s muse is a vampire, but they have never disclosed that information to your muse, who also doesn’t have an excuse to know that (for example, being a vampire hunter) so it can be quite jarring sometimes. When in doubt, contact your partner.

This should go without saying, but RPing sexual themes with users under the age of 18 are illegal. It doesn’t matter if the age of consent in your location is lower, once you join Tumblr you are abiding by their user guidelines and the law of the state they are located in. If you are an adult, don’t engage minors with these topics, maybe a fade to black would be a better option. If you are a minor, don’t insist or you might cause a lot of legal problems for others.

Try to tag anything triggering. Violence, gore, NSFW. Both Tumblr and the New Xkit have options to block keywords.

When picking PSDs or graphics for your blog, you should avoid templates that change the color of the skin of POCs muses and try to pick the right race/ethnicity of the muse you are going to RP as. I won’t go through a lot of details, as it is a rather lengthy subject in an already lengthy conversation but keep this in the back of your mind.

Some RPers don’t like when you reblog memes from them without sending anything. Try to always reblog from a source or to interact with the person you are reblogging from, it can be rather disheartening to be seen as a meme source rather than a RP blog. This isn’t a rule and some people don’t mind, but it is always a good idea to try to do this.

This might be more of a pet peeve of mine than proper etiquette, but it is ok to use small font. What is not ok is use small font + underscript. Some people have disabilities that might make it harder for them to read it, so it might be a good idea to refrain from using it. Maybe if you feel like doing something fancier every now and then, but I wouldn’t recommend making this a habit.

Mun and Muse are different entities. Remember that it isn’t because a muse does something (especially a villain one) that the mun condones something. Never assume anything about the mun, when in doubt talk to them.

Be mindful of your partners and treat them the way you would like to be treated.

As a rule of thumb, always talk to your RP partner. It is only fun as long both of you are enjoying it.

5.       Closing Words

This got longer than I expected.

Despite all of that, don’t be too worried about not being very good at first. I assure you that you will get better with time, so don’t be afraid of experimenting as long you feel comfortable. And don’t be afraid of saying “no” if something bothers you.

My inbox is always open to questions and ideas, so feel free to contact me anytime!

I would also ask my followers: there is advice I missed/overlooked? Anything you would like someone have told you when you first started? Add your thoughts so I can update this.

Happy RPing!

#roleplay advice #roleplay help #rph #rp reference #rp resources

[the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond]

Blog update!

Okay, just to said that I have manage a lot of post , so now if you search into the tags (or look under “tag” if you see my blog skin) there is:

-lp art: all of my drawings (weeeeell at least a lot of them)

-commission lp: some of the commission that I have made and the informations

-lp stories: some little part of fic that I have wrote

-luhcy play swtor: weeeeell... it’s clear I guess? :v some screenshots of my play-through, some anecdotes etc! ~

-my ocs ref: some answers of questions about my ocs, some facts etc!

-ask me anything: if you’re searching for prompt, question list for your own ocs of ask to me, it’s here!

!! also, non listed !!

#masterpost! For now I think there is only my commission information and Luhcy’s big list for reference, but I will add more (like a list for all my ocs, ocs ref etc)

#gift: some drawings that I have made for other people.

#join the party: the event that I organized, where people could promote their oc dancing on a specific theme, and where I have draw my own oc and some other people’s ocs dancing and singing on a specific theme... I will finish to draw everything one day I SWEAR! After finishing some commissiona nd the August giveway .. *cough cough* So for now, only the Belly Dance Theme is closed& finished, but there is still a lot to do! And some great artist had already finished their own piece! :)

  Also, thanks everyone for keeping tagging me. A lot of tag are so interesting to answer (okay all of them :p) but I mainly see it at a very late hour, so I keep forgetting to answered it the newt morning and then they are lost on the notification. Thanks to Xkit I found some of them more easily, some other are on my bookmark patiently waiting to be answered. So, if I don’t made a post, I’m sorry, everything is crazy since september and I rune everywhere! So if I haven’t answered it’s probably that it just get out of my mind, I don’t ignore anyone. I’m deeply sorry. I will try to answer them more regularly now, so please, feel free to keep tagging me I will probably answering it three month later soon!

Thanks you very much everyone for all the support that everybody had giving during the past year. I hope everything will be alright or be shiner soon for everyone!

#blog update #pouic #random tag #masterpost

[ignxsdraco-aa]

Rules Page for Mobile Users

LAW –––––

OOC Info:

Yo’s welcome to my blog, my name is Ben and this is my portrayal of Natsu Dragneel. Firstly I’d like to start off by saying that Natsu is owned by Hiro Mashima. I claim no ownership of said character nor do I claim to be Hiro himself. Secondly, all icons you see me use are credited to Mashima as well as Artists from the fandom. If you have any questions or concern please feel free to message me. Thank ya!

Private && Selective:

So for this I’d like to state that there are several reasons for why I am like this. Could be due to a falling out with whoever, busy with tasks IRL, bouncing between other blogs and such. As much as I like to do stuff here I’d like to be fair and say that my interest varies from time to time as well as my muse. There could be somedays where I don’t feel like getting on and somedays where I do feel like getting on.

I will answers asks such as memes BUT, if we are not mutual (which means you follow me and I follow back ) I will not respond to anything that you reblog from me. Which now brings us to the mutuals rule if you follow me I will look at your blog and follow you back if I like what I see. What I usually look for is just the rules and about page. Also another thing is I will not respond to anything that I’m tagged in if we are not mutuals. Lastly please do not take things personally if I don’t follow you back. The reasons could be that I don’t agree with some things or I haven’t seen the notification if you followed me.\

OC’s & Cross-Overs:

For OC’s I’m very open to interacting with them since I myself have an OC as well. However, they have to be well written. Which means the whole shebang (Back story along with Head Canons). Also any OC that Natsu hasn’t interacted with him; he will treat as a stranger. Mainly to create chemistry between muses, makes it more interesting to start from scratch. Which also leads to shipping with OC’s in general, I will only ship with OC’s if both muses have developed chemistry together where they can also develop feelings and attraction towards each other.

This one I can’t stress enough. If you have a character that has a backstory involving my muse such as tragic past, relationship Family or Friend. You MUST contact me to discuss. Starters that are automatically sent to inbox for example “You killed my family! In front of my eyes! I’m going to kill you!” will be deleted with no hesitation. Communication is key if I don’t agree with your head canon your character has with my muse. Don’t take it to face value. Just have to try again.

Cross-Over’s on the other hand I am very open to doing just as long as I know the series said muse is from. It’s always an interesting and exciting experience to have two characters from different universes interact with each other. Also I do not mind to either throw my muse into a different universe or to have yours interact in my muse’s universes.

Asks & Threads:

For asks as much as I like having my inbox spammed with multiple asks. PLEASE keep it to at least one or two prompts for each Prompt I reblog. Reason for this is mainly to keep things in check, it makes it very hard for me to answer each individual ask you send me. As well as other prompts that other muns send me. So please keep it at to a minimum of one or two per prompt. Lastly, if you do not see your ask be answered please do not take anything to heart. I either drafted the ask or replied to it but queued it.

For threads if we have a thread going on and I’m genuinely interested in it I will reply to it. Also If you have a thread going on and you wish for us to continue it. Feel free to message me chances are the thread is in my drafts.

Plotting & Winging it:

I am an awkward shy turtle, who also sucks at plotting from time to time. But I do enjoy a good plot just takes a while for me to come up with something good. Though if you have any ideas on a plot for our muses. Then by all means I am all ears, I’m interested in hearing on other peoples ideas.

Winging it which means just go with the flow of how our muses interact. Depends and varies from time to time. Where as to setting up a scenario for our muses aka plotting, winging it can either be good or bad. What I mean by this is that I can either be interested or not interested with how our muses interacted. But do not be alarmed or hesitant when I say this. Majority of the time I will be interested, so do not fear. :D

Tagging:

This is just for personal reasons but please tag your ships. I respect people and their ships, however I do wish for them to be tagged as there are some I do not agree with for personal reasons. I will most likely want Laxlu and Lolu. Along with others, everybody will get one if by chance you forget to tag them. But afterwards if I see any post without them being tagged. I will unfollow

Shipping & Smut:

I am a multi-ship blog meaning each character Natsu has a romantic ship with will be in its own universe. Ex: He can be shipped with x amount of Lucy, Levy, Lisanna, etc. HOWEVER, even though both Natsu and I are a multi-ship blog. As mentioned before there NEEDS to be chemistry and development in order for Natsu to be shipped with another muse romantically. For Natsu, it’s a long and slow process alike many others to develop feelings.

Smut however can happen with any muse with or without feelings towards said character. Could be mainly sexual attraction towards another character. However I will only smut with mun’s and muses that are of or over the age of 18.

Ships will be tagged with their tags along with a verse tag. NSFW threads such as smut will also be tagged to allow easy access to black list. As well as images & Gifs containing adult situations

Formatting:

PLEASE TRIM your replies and threads unless on mobile then it is easily understandable. However if you are replying on PC this can easily be fixed. There is an extension that works for Chrome and Firefox called New Xkit. Install that on your respective choice of browser then once installed should give you a message on the tumblr webpage to refresh.

Once the page is refreshed a window will pop up there are several tabs. The one you want to click on is “Get Extensions” scroll down and you will see an extension that says “Editable Reblogs” install that. Once that is taken care you can now trim posts, I apologize if this is a lot to ask. But it makes things a lot easier not only for us but for everyone else on the dashboard. Shorter & Trimmed posts makes the dash board a lot easier to scroll down than to continuously scrolling down a single thread that isn’t trimmed.

Also we don’t have to match each other’s length for replies nor do you need to have special texts. Reply with however length you feel comfortable with as well as your writing is good enough for me.

Triggers :

I do not have any triggers, however with whatever theme of the thread/RP my muse is in. I will tagged certain themes with tw: *insert theme here* (Trigger Name). If there is a certain theme you want me to tag please let me know. I want to make sure that everyone is comfortable.

OOC related things :

There will be times will I post things out of character. Which may contain several ooc/posts from the mun. Sometimes these posts will contain gifs or images so tag “tw:Images/gifs” and “Image/Gif warning”

Most of all have fun! Role-play is meant to be as a hobby where you can fun. If you read all of my rules state the following

#[ Rules Link for Mobile Users ] #Long Post

[yellow-suit-daredevil]

also I Must Ask. whats ur main blog?

weekend-conspiracy-theorist, because apparently I have a thing about hyphens

#I'm cooler over here probably #but since I have a tag over there that's 'dd get your shit together' I obviously poke a similar amount of fun at matt murdock #tubainas #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

“Who was that?” // patsyjen

If there’s anything quite like the intimidation factor a hulk can muster through their sheer presence, it’s the relief one particular hulk can inspire when she decides to come loom over one particular Hellcat’s shoulder.

“This guy bothering you?” Jen asks, her tone icy cold, and Patsy could weep.

She leans back into Jen’s comfortingly solid form, tilting her sharp little chin upwards, and hisses, “Yes,” as she clutches one handed at Jen’s belt loops as if she could possibly hold her in place if Jen decided to abandon her after all.

Her martini sloshes in her other hand, and the guy (who’d thirty seconds ago set his hand on Patsy’s knee uninvited) gawks up at Jen as his face drains of blood comically fast. “I, uh...”

“Was just leaving,” Jen informs him, and he nods frantically as he scrambles away, knocking over his bar stool in the process.

Patsy heaves a gusty sigh of relief as she pats Jen’s hip in thanks. “You’re the sexiest sinner in church, Ms. Walters.”

Jen doesn’t make a move to disentangle herself from Patsy, her shoulders straight and muscles as tense as a hunting dog who’s caught the scent of its quarry. “Who was that?”

“Just some guy who decided to get his creep on.” Patsy tosses back the rest of her martini, straightening on her stool, and wrinkles her nose. “You saved me from having to figure out a way to kick his ass without looking like I knew how to kick his ass.”

“Happy to be of service,” Jen says darkly, but when Patsy shoots her a confused look, she manages what’s almost a smile and hooks the fallen stool with one foot, flicking it back upright and taking her seat.

Angry looks good on her--so does the lighting in this bar, making her emerald skin glow and sharpening the lines of the muscles shown off by her simple black tank top. Patsy swallows heavily and waves down the bartender.

“Two more martinis,” she requests, trying to ignore Jen’s knee brushing against hers. It’s embarrassingly cliche, right? To be bisexual and in love with your best friend?

At least she never had a thing for Hedy, she lies to herself, and resists the urge to bang her head against the counter.

“Sorry I was late,” Jen offers, still visibly attempting to shake off the previous encounter, and Patsy scoffs.

“No big deal,” she promises, reaching out to squeeze Jen’s forearm. “I don’t mind waiting for you.” Tone it down, Walker. “Just means you owe me an extra round of drinks!”

Nailed it.

Jen laughs and reaches for her martini with her free hand, letting Patsy’s palm remain resting gently on bare skin. “What do you think I’m made of, money?”

Patsy twirls the little black straw around in her glass, and a smirk tugs at the corners of her lips as she drawls out, “Well...”

“Do not make a green joke.”

“But it’s just so easy.” Patsy tips her head back, laughing, and Jen joins in just a heartbeat out of sync.

That feeling doesn’t go away for the rest of the night--they sip their martinis and banter and gossip and patently do not discuss either their work at Jen’s law office or their extra-curricular work, and on the surface it’s all fine. But there’s a tension in the air, a sense that Jen’s got something else on her mind, that Patsy can’t quite shake.

Not that she tries too hard; she’s made a crime fighting career off trusting her own instincts.

“Are you okay?” she finally asks as they wander down a dark street, secure in the knowledge that there’s no one in New York nuts enough to try to tangle with She-Hulk just for the sake of a mugging. There’s just a bit of bite to the air, a signal that summer’s almost over, and Patsy’s got her jean jacket tugged tight around her torso.

Jen doesn’t seem to feel the chill, but she wraps an arm around Patsy’s shoulders to keep her warm anyway. She blows out a breath, something almost rueful in her tone as she says, “Just thinking.”

“About that guy?” Patsy asks, bemused.

“About the fact that just terrifying him wasn’t nearly as satisfying as kicking his ass would have been.” Jen laughs, but she still sounds off. “Not that I could have punched him without opening myself up to a lawsuit, probably. He was just a normal guy.”

“You could have held him in place and let me do it,” Patsy snickers. “I could have made a real show of having bad form but still managing to get some force behind it.” She lets go of her jacket to make a couple jabs at the air, purposefully keeping her elbows too wide and catching Jen in the ribs in the process.

“Why are we friends, again?” Jen complains, lowering her arm slightly from Patsy’s shoulders and tugging her more firmly into her side, effectively immobilizing her arms.

Patsy squawks indignantly. “Jen!”

“Don’t be a brat, Patsy.”

“Never once in my life,” she mutters petulantly, and Jen's surprised laugh splits the night--across the street, a guy nearly drops the phone he’d been engrossed in, he flinches so hard in surprise.

“You’re an idiot,” Jen tells her, voice teasing and fond, and Patsy slouches sideways into her. Jen doesn’t even sway to the side; Patsy really, really wishes that didn’t turn her on.

Alternatively, she wishes she was drunk enough to actually tell Jen that it did.

“Next time I’ll try to get hit on by somebody with super strength, so you guys can properly brawl for my companionship,” she says instead, because she may not be drunk, but she is just a bit tipsy. “Think Luke Cage is game?”

“Do you wanna have to fight Jessica while I fight Luke?” Jen asks, amused, and Patsy makes a face.

“Good point. Daredevil’s single, right? Lawyer fight.”

Jen’s lips twitch as she tries not to laugh, reciting by rote, “Matt Murdock isn’t Daredevil.”

“No, no, of course not,” Patsy agrees. “I was talking about the other one.”

“You were talking about... Foggy Nelson?”

Patsy grins out into the night, red lips pulling wide around white teeth. “Uh huh. You can let him know not to worry; I can keep a secret. It’s not like I’ve ever been tempted to get a tattoo of my own alter ego or anything.”

Jen laughs until she’s breathless, and Patsy preens under the attention, wiggling her arm free enough to wrap it around Jen’s hips.

“This is why we’re friends,” she says confidently.

Jen squeezes her shoulder lightly as she catches her breath. “Yeah, it is,” she agrees, her voice soft. “And I’d fight anyone you asked me to, Patsy.”

“I won’t abuse my influence,” Patsy tells her solemnly, pretending her heart isn’t doing ridiculous things inside of her chest. “I’d only ever specifically ask you to fight an ex-husband, or maybe my landlord.”

Jen huffs. “I’m trying to tell you something, Walker; stop making jokes.”

“You want the happy-go-lucky Hellcat not to crack wise?” Patsy scoffs. “That’d be like asking Spider-Man not to do a backflip, or Monica Rambeau not to tell us about that time she was the leader of the Aven--”

“For the love of god,” Jen mutters, and all of a sudden Patsy’s a foot and a half taller, held effortlessly in the air by green hands on either side of her ribs. When Jen kisses her it’s hesitant and soft, and Patsy gasps her surprise even as she curls her hands on either side of that broad jaw and presses closer.

By the time Jen tries to pull back, Patsy’s wound around her like a koala, clinging tightly with all four limbs and making noises of protest as Jen tips her head back laughing.

“Are you done making jokes?” she asks, taunting, and Patsy scowls.

“Were you jealous of the skeezoid in the bar with his hand on my knee?” she fires back, releasing her grip on Jen’s tanktop to straighten up her hair and try to look as dignified as she can for just having had her tongue down her best friend’s throat.

Jen’s face does something funny.

“Oh my god.” Patsy covers her eyes with one hand, leaning back in the circle of Jen’s arms, confident that she won’t be dropped. “Oh my god, you were.”

#patsy walker #jennifer walters #patsyjen #femslash #fic tag #I couldn't figure out where or how I wanted to end it so it took forever whoops #jessicamiriamdrew #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

[enterprisetrampstamp]

- “Put your hands somewhere useful.” / you know this is spones

“Don’t just stand there; put your hands somewhere useful,” Leonard pants, catching Spock by the wrist with one sweaty hand. With a subtle sigh, Spock allows himself to be pulled across the threshold, and the door closes behind him with a soft hiss.

“I arrived at exactly seventeen hundred hours, as I told you I would,” he admonishes. He sets his hands beneath the box- labelled “Tchotchkes” in a messy scrawl- and Leonard huffs as he lowers the knee he’d been using to steady it.

He walks his grip carefully from the middle towards the other side, his jaw jutting out teasingly as he drawls, “So I got a little excited and started without you; blame me, Spock?”

Spock feels an unanticipated thrum of heat, remembering the last time those words had been uttered in this room, and Leonard’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Doctor,” Spock protests, low and sharp, and he’s answered with a bark of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, I should have let you help more with the moving,” Leonard admits, his smile softening into something lopsided and fond. “But are you complaining about the fact that you didn’t have to walk back and forth between our rooms half a dozen times?”

“If you had waited for my assistance, the number of necessary trips would have been significantly decreased,” Spock argues. “Additionally, the odds of your injuring yourself–”

“I know how to lift a damn box with my knees, man!”

They enter into the hallway at the same time as Leonard’s outburst, and the passing crew members glance at them with amusement. Spock sighs a second time, just as silently as the first, but Leonard knows him too well to miss it.

“I’ll let you do all the unpacking,” he offers magnanimously.

Spock does not scowl, as he is a Vulcan, but he cannot refrain from a subtle glower. “Leonard, you have an excessive number of small keepsakes, whose positioning you will insist upon adjusting in my wake should I be the one to unpack them.”

“Tchotchkes.”

“Pardon?”

“Tchotchkes, not keepsakes.”

“I do not understand the difference.”

“There isn’t one, particularly.”

“Then I shall continue to use--”

“But I like ‘tchotchkes’ more,” Leonard adds.

Spock considers him, then lifts the box completely from Leonard’s hands and sets it neatly on the floor, pressed snugly against the wall. He steps forward, cupping Leonard’s face between his hands and tilting his chin up; Leonard’s hands find his hips, and Spock informs him, “You are being purposefully argumentative.”

“I’m in a good mood.” Leonard’s fingers curl into the fabric of Spock’s uniform, a smile hovering in the crinkles of his striking eyes. “I’m moving in with my gorgeous partner, whom I very much enjoy riling up.”

“Ah.” Spock tilts his head to the side, feeling a tendril of love- and amusement- curl through his chest. “Mate.”

Leonard blinks. “Sorry?”

“Not ‘partner’; mate.”

“I d--is, is there a difference?”

“I prefer the term ‘mate’.”

“You--” Leonard fights back a grin as he prods him in the chest, leaning back even as Spock leans forward-- “You are pulling my leg. You are a brat, nothing except for a grade A pain in my--”

Spock’s lips cut him off. He keeps their kiss chaste, though it is long, then withdraws once more and lifts the box of tchotchkes up to one shoulder. “Come, Doctor. We are on a tight schedule if we wish to finish unpacking your belongings before we... retire for the night.”

Leonard bounces on the balls of his feet, clasping his hands behind his back, and falls into step at Spock’s side. “Why, Mr. Spock, I do believe we’re in agreement for once.”

#spones #spock #leonard mccoy #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #jessicamiriamdrew #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

[enterprisetrampstamp]

11. McSpirk

in which, like, nothing really happens, including the cuddling that’s supposed to be the prompt

When the door chimes, Len calls for Jim to enter without even looking up from his laundry. He’s not in civvies often enough to have to take care of it regularly- he doesn’t care to admit it, but this is the first time he’s even touched anything other than his underwear drawer in days- so he’s opted to do the folding himself. The action’s so mundane as to’ve become cathartic, this far out along the edges of Federation space.

He sighs, smoothing out an ancient t-shirt from college. Len’s not sure why he even still has the thing; it was too big when he bought it, way back when, and he’s slimmed up considerably since then. It’s worn out, too, so old you can barely even read “Ole Miss” any more. Maybe that’s the attraction in and of itself, he admits–the cotton is soft under his fingertips in a way that only comes with time.

Footsteps come to a stop at the threshold of his bedroom, and he blindly tosses a few pairs of pants over his shoulder. “Make yourself useful, while you’re here; it’s been a long day.”

“The length of the day on a starship is standardized, Doctor; no day is longer or shorter than another,” Spock says lightly (for a Vulcan), and Len nearly jumps a foot in surprise.

“Sweet Jesus!” He lays one hand over his pounding heart, squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a brief moment. “You scared the devil out of me. I thought…” Len trails off as Spock sets both pairs of jeans on the bed next to him, folded as neatly as Len’s own mama would have done.

The only thing he can think to say is, “I guess somethin’ Lady Amanda taught you managed to slip through after all.”

Spock fairly radiates amusement when Len looks up at him, for all that his body language doesn’t change a bit. “You did order me to ‘make myself useful’,” he says, reaching for the laundry basket, and the door chimes again.

“That you, Jim?” Len hollers. He breaks eye contact with Spock, his cheeks heating up slightly, and brushes past him.

“Who else, Bones?”

Len glances over his shoulder at Spock as he moves into the main room, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” he chuckles, thumbing the button to open the door. “Come on in, Jimmy.”

“Been a long day,” Jim announces even as he crosses the threshold, making Len smile; there are two glasses slung between his fingers and a bottle of wine in his other hand. “Just what the doctor ordered?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“Sure thing.” Len sets his hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Got another glass?” he asks slyly.

Jim tilts his head, setting the wine aside in favor of sliding his arm around Len’s waist. “Another…?”

“Spock’s in the bedroom,” Len says cheerfully, and Jim’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s folding my laundry,” he adds.

Jim licks his lips, opens his mouth, and promptly closes it again. Len waits patiently, a gentle smile on his lips; a moment later Jim admits, “I’m confused.”

“Thought he was you, so I threw some pants at him and told him to make ‘imself useful.” Len palms Jim’s ass, getting a surprised “oomph” and a rakish grin for his efforts. “He’s much better at foldin’ ‘n you are,” he continues, voice teasing. “Everything’s nice ‘n’ crisp, and he didn’t even try and pull off my shirt because he ‘thought I wanted everything folded, oh, sorry, Bones’.”

Jim’s eyes twinkle as he carelessly tosses the wine glasses towards the couch- they must be polycarbonate, the way they clink together without breaking- but Len smacks him in the chest before he can open his mouth.

“If you try it tonight, I’m takin’ the wine and Spock, and I’m leavin’ you with the laundry,” he says firmly, rolling his eyes–though he can’t quite bite back his fond smile; Jim just grins and leans in to steal a quick kiss.

He’s still close enough for his breath to brush over Len’s lips when he murmurs thoughtfully, “So Spock’s in your bedroom.”

“’N’ he can probably hear every word we’re saying,” Len points out, nipping at Jim’s bottom lip before extricating himself completely. “Not to mention that I wasn’t raised to leave the chores up to my guests,” he chuckles, heading towards the other room, “no matter how entertaining the sight.”

Jim hooks two fingers in Len’s belt loop and crowdsclose as he follows him. When they turn the corner, Jim calls out, “Evening, Mr. Spock,” with laughter thick in his voice.

“Captain.” Spock nods vaguely in their direction. His attention is caught, however, by the Starfleet Academy t-shirt he holds out in front of himself, one eyebrow raised. “I was under the impression you had not attended the Academy, Doctor.”

Len clears his throat as Jim buries a laugh in the back of his neck. “That’s, ah, a correct impression, Spock,” he says, trailing awkwardly to a stop. Jim is a line of warmth and gentle strength against his back, and it does nothing to help keep his face from burning. “You’ll notice it’s also a tad large for me.”

“As are many of your non-uniform shirts,” Spock points out. “As a data point, the size indicates little–”

“It’s mine, Spock,” Jim says, with gentle amusement, and Spock’s back straightens even further than normal as he looks over at them.

“Indeed,” he comments blandly, his gaze flicking across the both of their faces. His movements are swift and efficient as he begins folding the shirt, his eyes swiftly averted once more.

“Spock,” Len says, slowly. If he were anyone else, Len would think that not-expression on his face was betrayal. “Did you not realize…?”

“There are nuances of human culture which I still do not easily recognize.” Spock sets the shirt on the stack, his fingers lingering on the soft fabric. “If your attempts to inform me of the changed nature of your relationship were couched in allusion and indirect language, I have missed them.”

His body language is difficult to parse at the best of times; in this low lighting, with him partly turned away from them, Len can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking. He hopes Jim- whose fingers are drumming a thoughtful beat against Len’s hip- has a better inkling of what’s going on underneath that bowlcut.

They’re close enough together that he knows, from Jim’s intake of breath, that he’s about to speak the moment before he does; Len relaxes, certain that Jim will- as ever- know exactly the right thing to say.

“I suppose, then, that our attempts to imply we were also interested in changing the nature of our relationship with you must have likewise flown over your head.”

Or not.

“Jim,” Len hisses, shoving him off. “A little tact–”

“Has obviously gotten us nowhere,” Jim whispers, his grin crooked. “We have to adapt to changing circumstances, Bones.” His step is light as he curves around the room, jerking his chin to motion Len towards Spock’s other side. Len ignores him.

They’re both under intense scrutiny; Spock’s dark eyes cut from one to the other almost suspiciously as Jim–well, for lack of a better word, Jim stalks forward. He jerks his chin again, hissing, “Are you going to pull your weight here or not?” and Len throws his hands in the air.

“Spock, get away while you still can,” he complains. “Datin’ him isn’t worth it.”

Jim turns his attention from Spock to Len, rearing back incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Len lifts an eyebrow, his hands finding his hips once more as he rocks back on his heels. “‘Pull my weight’?” he demands. “Whose bedroom is he in again, Jim boy?”

“He’s here to fold your laundry!”

“And he’s doin’ a better job of it than you ever have!”

Jim spins on his heel, gesturing to Len with one hand as he addresses Spock. “And he says dating me is a trial. Mr. Spock, have you ever seen anyone quite so contrary, for the sheer sake of being contrary?”

“Every time he looks in the mirror,” Len scoffs, not even giving Spock a chance to answer, and Jim’s surprised into a laugh that he quite ineffectively turns into a cough.

“For God’s sake, Bones; can you get through a conversation without insulting him?”

Len looks at Spock, raking his gaze from pristinely shined shoes to pointed ears, and bounces on his toes. “Nope,” he states, popping the ‘p’ with distinct relish.

Spock- who’d been looking increasingly overwhelmed since Jim’s announcement- visibly (if subtly) relaxes into the familiar exchange. “I could hardly expect any less from the good doctor,” he informs Jim, clasping his hands behind his back. “In the face of superior logic, he rarely has outlet beyond unfounded accusations and vulgarities.”

“Very true, Mr. Spock,” Jim agrees gravely, likewise clasping his hands behind his back. His eyes, however, sparkle with the utmost mischief.

“‘Superior’ logic,” Len mutters, faux indignant, and sidles up to Spock, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up to meet those dark eyes. (On the Vulcan’s other side, Jim likewise closes the distance between them.) Len takes a breath, forcing some of the tension out of his shoulders; in return, his voice comes out more hesitant, more raw than he’d intended.

“Teasin’ aside, Mr. Spock…” he dares to reach out and brush his fingers over his covered upper arm. “We’da broached the subject more carefully if we’d realized you didn’t already know.”

“There is no need for… apology, Doctor,” Spock promises, after a moment of hesitation. It doesn’t feel as if he’s lying–simply that he’s uncertain of how to respond. Possibly, Len muses, uncertain as to how he even feels about all of this.

Jim sets a hand on Spock’s shoulder and then, after a moment of deliberation, slides it around to cup the back of Spock’s neck. He says firmly, his gaze locked with Spock’s, “We’re your friends; we should have told you about our relationship explicitly some time ago, and that deserves an apology.”

“Captain–”

“Jim,” Len interjects. His lips twitch as Spock startles, ever so slightly–he understands, intimately, the way the rest of the world falls away when Jim Kirk looks at you like that. “In a situation like this, it’s more than appropriate to call him ‘Jim’.”

“Now Bones, on the other hand, will kick you out of his quarters for calling him ‘Leonard’,” Jim teases, his thumb tracing an arc back and forth over the soft skin of Spock’s neck.

Len scoffs, running his knuckles lightly down the curve of Spock’s spine as he leans across him to taunt, “Just you, Jimmy.”

Jim raises his eyebrows, a delighted- if surprised- sort of grin on his face, but Len leans back ruefully before he can respond. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he says, pointedly folding his arms over his chest to make sure he keeps his hands to himself.

“Right.” Jim licks his lips. “Right.” He reluctantly removes his hand from Spock’s neck, and for a moment he’s quiet, his hand flexing thoughtfully by his side, and then he squares his shoulders–and Len yawns, loudly and involuntarily, burying it behind one hand as he blinks away the tears that spring up in response. When his vision clears, Jim’s deflated once more, a fond, indulgent smile on his lips.

“It’s been a long day,” he says again, and Spock shoots Len an exasperated look. Jim continues, oblivious, as Len rubs a grin away with one hand, “Maybe we should leave the particulars of this conversation for another time.”

“Probably not the worst idea,” Len admits. He can feel the exhaustion pressing down on him, and knows- no matter how nice of a front they put up- that Spock and Jim feel the same.

Spock nods, short and sharp, and folds his hands behind his back once more. “Then I will take my leave. Goodnight, Jim; goodnight… Leonard.”

“Well, well, well,” Len drawls, a grin on his face and rocking back on his heels. “Goodnight to you, too, Mr. Spock.”

Jim hums, a twinkle in his eye as he watches the exchange. “I like it when you get along,” he tells them, sincere and amused and open all at once, in that way only he can manage.

“We always get along,” Len protests. “Sometimes ‘getting along’ just involves a lot of yelling. Right, Spock?” He nudges the Vulcan with one elbow, grinning broadly.

Spock, bless him, comes to the conclusion that changing the subject is the safest route. “Do you require further assistance with your laundry, Doctor?”

Biting back his laughter (Jim, on the other side of Spock, doesn’t even bother), Len shakes his head. “I’ve got it covered, Spock, but thank you for the offer.”

Jim’s giggles trail off while Len smiles up at Spock, and for a long moment the room is still and companionably quiet. Len doesn’t want Spock to go, he muses; and all it would take to keep him here would be one word--”stay”.

But without a proper discussion of what they all expect from each other, he can’t put that kind of pressure on Spock. Len sighs, running a hand through his hair with a tired smile. “Have a lovely night, Spock,” he says softly.

Spock inclines his head in acknowledgement, and just like that he’s gone.

Len groans, fingers curling in the fabric of Jim’s uniform shirt as he drops his forehead to the other man’s shoulder. Jim’s arms circle around him, holding him loosely, as he grumbles goodnaturedly, “Half expected you to up and invite him to bed while he was here.”

Jim hums. “I thought about it, but it wasn’t worth the gamble; seemed more likely you’d kick us both out.”

Well, he’s probably not wrong. Len extricates himself with a snort. “Go on and change while I finish up here,” he orders, turning away and busying his hands with the last few shirts in the basket.

(With a grin, he pretends not to see Jim stealing his Ole Miss shirt from the bottom of the stack.)

#mcspirk #mckirk #leonard mccoy #spock #jim kirk #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #wristwatch6minslow #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

[enterprisetrampstamp]

"does anyone have a spare blowtorch?" janice rand

Janice slides down the wall of engineering to sit, legs demurely settled at her side, and flutters her eyelashes as she summons her flirtiest smile. “How’s my favorite lieutenant today, Mx. Givens?”

The engineer in question looks over at her from where they’re cross-legged on the floor, two elbows deep in a control panel, and an amused smile tugs at the corners of their lips. Their voice, however, is drily sarcastic as they retort, “I don’t know, Ms. Rand; wouldn’t you need to be on the bridge or in sickbay to get that answer?”

“Aw, G,” Janice croons, reaching over to cup their cheek with one hand. “You know our love is as true as the ones I share with Ny and Chris.”

“I also know that you only ever bring up our love when you want something,” Givens informs her with a snort, pulling one hand out of the panel to scribble a note on the PADD resting on their knee.

“I bring up our love every time we talk!” Janice protests, snatching back her hand.

Givens makes an aborted move, as if they’d have thrown their hands in the air in exasperation if they weren’t full of wiring. “And you always want something!”

Janice opens her mouth to retort and then clicks it shut with a huff of annoyance. “Well, alright, fair enough.” She walks her fingers up the sleeve of their uniform, smiling winningly. “Can you get me into Scotty’s office?”

They eye her warily, fingers slowing in their deft ministrations. “Why?”

“Well, you see. Our resident Scotsman and Min Sung--”

“The botanist?”

“The very one. They’ve been having a rather prolific memo war regarding the temperature controls in the greenhouses, and their yeomen have gone on strike until they agree to work out their differences in person. So of course, because being the captain’s yeoman--“ Janice’s nostrils flare as she adds, more sourly than she means to-- “and this captain’s yeoman on top of that--isn’t enough work, I’m having to do their jobs as well for the next few days.”

Givens blinks at her. “Scotty replaced his yeoman with a robot.”

“Eustace 2.3; I know.” Janice squints. “Relevance, G?”

They roll their eyes, an edge of annoyance in their voice as they ask, “How can a robot go on strike, Jan?”

“Scotty may not have figured out how to program sentience yet, but he’s certainly managed to achieve ‘attitude’.” Janice clicks her tongue. “Can you let me in or not?”

“You better not be pulling my leg,” they caution, even as they pull their hands back out of the machinery and insert a pinky into each corner of their mouth to whistle sharply. “RANDERS!” they bark, and Janice flinches. (Lieutenant Givens didn’t earn the title of “Best Set of Lungs in the Engineering Department” for nothing.) “LET YEOMAN RAND INTO THE CHIEF’S OFFICE, WOULD YOU?”

Janice hears the slide of fabric on metal, and looks up just in time to see a young woman (with a truly extraordinary head of hair) drop suddenly from the jeffries tube to her left. The ensign straightens out of the crouch she’d landed in, flipping on the safety of her multipurpose laser wrench before tucking it behind her ear and snapping off a mocking salute.

“Follow me,” she says cheerfully, and sets off with a long-legged stride that leaves Janice scrambling to her feet to catch up.

“I ask you for a favor, G, and you pawn me off on an ensign?” she hisses, walking backwards to keep her gaze fixed angrily on the back of their head.

“The Enterprise is my one true love, and you’ve known that from the start,” Givens tells her solemnly. There’s a teasing glint in their eye as they glance back at her. “Don’t worry, Jan; you’re still a distant second.”

Throwing her hands in the air, she spins on her heel and stalks away. “I thought you Lieutenants were the only ones with the code, anyway!”

“Scotty has a ‘hacked door policy’--it’s like an open door policy, except you have to earn it!” Givens calls after her. “I’m busy, but Randers has the magic touch; you’re in good hands.”

“You’re a lackadaisical, teetotaling buffoon, Lieutenant!” Janice shouts back, and Ensign Randers stifles a laugh into her shoulder as she dismantles the keypad for Scotty’s office door.

“Whatever you say, Jan,” Givens agrees distractedly. “Just let me know if Eustace is still AWOL by the end of shift today, and I’ll either crack its housing and fix the programming or code the door to Scotty’s office to your biosignal.”

“I knew they loved me,” Janice tells Randers with a smirk of satisfaction as she drops her shoulder against the wall next to the door and crosses one leg over the other. She watches the ensign, her long fingers picking delicately through the wiring, for a long moment before asking curiously, “How long is this going to take?”

“Not even another minute,” comes the muttered response.

Janice beams, an expression that reaches all the way to her sparkling blue eyes, and declares, “I hope that whatever god or omnipotent creature happens to be out there in the universe smiles kindly on your soul, Ensign.”

The door hisses open; Randers turns a crooked grin on Janice. “Kind of you, ma’am. Need any help sorting through the chief’s files?”

Janice straightens, shoving up her sleeves with the single-minded determination that makes her so very effective at her job, and her grin turns feral as she calls for the lights. “If I needed a little help just to tackle Scotty’s woefully inadequate filing system, I wouldn’t be Captain Kirk’s yeoman, now, would I?”

And then Janice actually looks at the office laid out in front of her, and she feels, first, a thrum of confusion. On its heels follows foreboding.

Scotty’s office is... surprisingly neat. His in-tray (while full) isn’t overflowing, and there’s enough shelf and table space crammed into the room to keep separate what are obviously several different projects being worked on concurrently. With all of Eustace’s complaining- the original, human Eustace, who was Scotty’s yeoman until he weaseled his way into a transfer and after whom the robot was named- she’d been expecting a war zone; this is barely even as messy as Captain Kirk’s gets after several back to back missions with no time to tidy up in between.

But if not his organization, then...

“The problem isn’t the chief’s filing,” Randers tells her, sounding torn between amusement and sympathy. “It’s that he refuses to use manual input for anything, and the computer’s really bad at transcribing his accent.”

Janice sets her hand on her hips and narrows her eyes. This is not what she signed up for when she joined Starfleet, and it certainly shouldn’t be her problem now. She claps her hands together decisively, turning neatly on her heel. “New plan; anybody got a spare blowtorch?”

Randers’s eyebrows climb sharply towards her hairline. “Do I want to know?”

Janice throws her a pitying glance as she sets off across the department floor. “Not unless you want to give up your plausible deniability.”

#janice rand #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #zee randers #lieutenant givens #honestly most of this has been written for ages #I just didn't know where to go with it #so this prompt gave me the opportunity to just slap on a vague but entertaining conclusion #wristwatch6minslow #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

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Prompt: T'Pring

11. Cuddling

There’s nothing soft about T’Pring. Graceful, lean, sharp–witty, self-confident, steadfast, determined. But not soft, and that’s alright. Nyota is capable- and willing- to be soft for the both of them.

She indulges herself in small touches and free smiles, in thoughtful, romantic gestures from both human and Vulcan culture. Her affections don’t go unreturned, of course–T’Pring (more than willing to rely on her universal translator in all circumstances) nonetheless listens intently when Nyota speaks about her work, and often spends unnecessary amounts of time formulating unsolicited solutions to minor problems Nyota’s complained of in the past. Nyota has never felt unappreciated within her relationship, nor as if she’s been carrying the bulk of the emotional load.

Unfortunately, she has apparently failed to express this fact clearly to T’Pring.

The Vulcan stands before her, back uncomfortably straight even by her own standards, chin tilted just-so and dark eyes inscrutable. “I do not understand why you would willingly subject yourself to that which will cause you harm,” she states, flatly, and folds her hands in front of herself.

“Our relationship isn’t painful to me, T’Pring,” Nyota tries to interject, but she is spoken over.

“Further, I do not appreciate being the vessel by which you engage in this self-flagellation; the only logical course of action is a termination of–”

“If you’d allow me to consult on the matter of my own emotions, I’d appreciate it,” Nyota snaps, frustration spiking in her chest, and T’Pring–she doesn’t blink. She simply regards Nyota coolly as she sucks in a breath and then lets it out slowly, trying to get her racing heart back under control. She struggles to keep her voice gentle when she continues, “Someone very sweet and probably well meaning–” two someones, both blonde, whom she counts as her closest friends in the galaxy and therefore cannot pay to stay out of her love life– “has informed you that you aren’t operating within human codes of conduct regarding an intimate relationship, is that it?”

When it becomes clear that Nyota expects an answer (after what is probably precisely a minute of silence, down to the second), T’Pring gives a short nod. “An accurate assessment of the situation.”

“I thought so.” Nyota sets her hands on her hips, a crooked tilt to her smile. “And they are right about that. What they’ve failed to realize- and you, somehow, have failed to extrapolate- is that I am fully aware that I am not in a relationship with a human.”

She steps forward, relying on T’Pring’s stubborn pride to keep her standing still, and brushes the back of her knuckles against T’Pring’s cheek. “Would you allow a Vulcan lover to do this in the mess the way I did yesterday?” she asks, holding her gaze. “I don’t think so. But you know what being tactile means to a human, so you allow me to indulge myself; likewise, I don’t expect you to initiate contact or verbally express your emotions in ways that you find uncomfortable, simply because I would personally find it pleasant.”

T’Pring is briefly lost for words, and Nyota huffs a laugh, stroking her cheek once more. “Were you really about to break up with me to keep from hurting me?”

“I do not wish to bring you unhappiness,” she answers quietly, and hesitantly places her hands on Nyota’s hips. Her touch is light, barely present, her thumbs tracing the curve of Nyota’s hipbone as she stares over her shoulder, eyebrows drawn in thought. “I…” she trails off, sounding faintly lost, like she’s struggling to find words.

“What did I just tell you?” Nyota admonishes gently, curling her finger through a stray strand of hair. “I’m not asking for anything you aren’t willing to give.”

“It is only logical for me to attend to the needs of my partner,” T’Pring promises, drawing Nyota closer. “You have put a great deal of thought into the mechanics of our relationship; my only endeavor is to ‘meet you halfway’.”

“I think you’ve been doing just fine so far.” She slides her arms around T’Pring’s waist and tucks her nose into her collarbone, sighing softly. The steady beat of her girlfriend’s heart against her forearm is comforting as they stand there, curled around each other in the middle of her quarters, and after a long stretch of silence, she does admit, “A little more of this, in private, just the two of us… it wouldn’t be remiss.”

T’Pring’s nose grazes her temple, her breath warm as she murmurs, “Your request has been noted.”

send me prompts!

#nyota uhura #t'pring #t'pura #sapphicstartrek #femslash #a tramp stamp original #I wrote this #camshaft22 #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

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8. spones

“Doctor McCoy,” Spock says softly, and Len blinks. Well, it’s meant to be a blink--he’s not sure his eyes re-opened at the end.

He certainly can’t see the concern in Spock’s dark eyes any more.

Len licks his lips, trying to fumble for Spock’s arm and only succeeding in twitching a few fingers. “If there was ever--” he coughs weakly. “Ever a time t’ call me ‘Leonard’,” he manages to finish, with barely a rasp to his tired voice, and can almost feel the distinct lack of amusement being pointed his way.

“Doctor McCoy, please open your eyes.”

“Since when d’you say ‘please’?”

“Doctor.”

The light in the cave is, thankfully, quite dim; he’s certain anything brighter would hurt, even with Spock’s face looming over most of his field of vision. Len breathes out through his mouth, almost managing to do so slowly enough to not aggravate his ribs.

“Transport?” he asks, studying the little lines at the edges of Spock’s lips--they’re his fault, probably, his and Jim’s. (Who else could possibly manage to make Spock frown?)

“Currently unavailable. Doctor, what can I do to help you?”

Len blinks again, properly this time, and licks his lips again. “Not much,” he admits, and Spock’s eyebrows pinch together ever so slightly. “Stable f’r now,” he says (slurs).

“Gonna be okay,” he adds on a whim, and Spock doesn’t give a slightly pained smile like Jim might’ve, doesn’t cradle Len’s head with long, slender fingers like he has in the past.

“That remains to be seen,” he’s informed instead, Spock’s tone softly admonishing, as if Len’s not completely aware of how dire his situation might become if they can’t get back to the ship sooner rather than later.

He closes his eyes once more, just barely catching his frustrated sigh before it can jar his ribs. “Thanks, Spock,” he mutters, sounding bitter even to his own ear.

“Doctor...”

Len refuses to think about the lost note in Spock’s voice. “Hail the ship?” he asks instead, grasping desperately for the professionalism that fails him so often.

“They are already aware of the situation.” There’s a moment of silence, of stillness, and then Spock’s hand closes slowly over Len’s where it rests limply at his side.

Spock’s fingers are cool and strong, though his grip is tentative and light; Len tries, for all the good it probably does, to use the contact to project confidence and trust, and grasps back physically as best he can.

“I took this action intending to provide comfort for you,” Spock informs him, with quiet traces of exasperation and fondness, “I do not need any myself.”

Len breathes out what would have been a snort under other circumstances. “Sure you don’t,” he mutters.

Spock doesn’t deign this worth a reply--yet he holds him just a bit tighter.

send me prompts!

#spock #leonard mccoy #spones #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #hey watson u like angsty bits don't u #wristwatch6minslow #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

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For the prompts, if you're still accepting them, could you do 6 with Benkaru? If not, I completely understand!

[spongebob title card voice] One Month Later

Hikaru hikes Ben up more firmly on his back, laughing under his breath as his boyfriend makes a noise of surprise. “Give me a little help, here, and grab on, would you?” he asks, jostling his shoulders.

Ben- on the cuddly side of tipsy, slumped against HIkaru’s back and swinging his legs idly- doesn’t make himself useful by wrapping his arms around Hikaru’s neck, instead running warm, broad palms over his shoulders. “You’re so strong,” he says, a note of wonder in his voice.

“If you’d ever come to the gym with me when I ask, you could be, too.” Hikaru cranes his neck, trying to check the street signs at the intersection they’ve come to, and nearly overbalances.

Ben laughs, burying his nose in Hikaru’s hair. “Strong but clumsy,” he teases. “And you claim to be a fencer.”

“Different,” Hikaru grunts, adjusting his grip on Ben’s knees once more. He squints up, frowning at the unfamiliar street names. “I think I might be lost.”

“Uhhhhhhhh...” Ben shifts on his back, looking behind them, then makes a noise of satisfaction. ”Nope.”

Hikaru huffs, a fond grin tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “You’re drunk; what do you know?”

“I know that diner has the best chili cheese fries on this end of the city,” Ben says, indignance dripping from his tone, and points back behind them.

Sure enough, when Hikaru turns, there’s a little slice of Americana peering out at them, brightly lit and with a neon “Open” sign. He’s not sure how he missed it on the first pass, except for his focus on getting one foot in front of the other with a buck eighty of dead weight on his back.

“We should stop for chili cheese fries,” Ben whispers loudly, and that--that sounds like a great idea. Maybe they’ll sober him up enough to walk on his own two feet with minimal guidance.

“Anything for you,” Hikaru says gallantly, heading back the way they came, and Ben presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“Love you,” he says cheerfully.

Hikaru grins into the night, glad Ben’s too drunk to notice his blush. “Love you, too,” he agrees.

#hikaru sulu #ben sulu #benkaru #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #down to three of these and a longer t'pura fic #woo! #backlog almost cleared #well hello there stranger #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

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Pls tell me ur thoughts about Cpt Crusher and Dr. Picard

they’ve always, throughout the show, been each others’ sounding board. I think it would be really interesting to see which parts of their dynamics would reverse and which parts would remain constant. bev’s compassion is fundamental to her character; it didn’t come from med school. would she push back against breaking the prime directive the same way picard (...mostly) does on the show? but with picard having a hippocratic oath, would he resist it either? it’s almost always the medical team trying to argue against that kind of discretion, you know what I mean

(I think they’d both be inclined to operate on their morals and not so much the prime directive, so the fact that tasha yar is first officer in skyblep’s au is fucking integral to the enterprise-d effectively operating as the flagship, tbh. she’s exactly the kind of no nonsense, stubborn sounding board that these two would need.)

anyway, more individually:

picard’s entire world changed when he was stabbed through the chest. he went from teenage dirtbag to on track to being the captain of starfleet’s flagship in three seconds flat, and having him be an au CMO is super super interesting in light of that. he wakes up with an artificial heart in his chest and decides to turn his life around, not just in becoming more responsible but also in going straight back into the academy and changing his entire career path

(so he can save more stupid teenagers, give more people the second chance that he got)

ugh, but speaking of teenagers--or, well, their mothers:

beverly crusher, command track. she probably never shipped out for longer than a year at a time after wesley was born, especially being a single mother. the admiralty had to have been fucking frothing at the bit to get her in the captain’s chair for a longer mission; the instant someone stepped forward with the design for a ship capable of housing the families of crew members, somebody else was on the phone going “captain crusher? if you could bring your son with you, would you take a commission on the flagship?”

oh my god and she’s still into theater and dance and all of that so just... any time they have an away mission on a planet pre-first contact she’s like “ensigns x y and z are great at improv, marty in engineering knows how to throw together the best costuming--”

#jean luc picard #beverly crusher #a tramp stamp original #me: resists the urge to au an au and discuss trans lesbian cmo jean luc picard #well hello there stranger #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

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"i told you this was a bad idea" with one of your lovely OCs

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Barron hisses, his hands twitching nervously as he peers over Givens’s shoulder. “There’s a reason they didn’t think we were worth locking up; we have exceedingly minimal combat training and–”

:Lieutenant Givens isn’t listening. They’re too busy to listen, fingers delicately picking through the circuits of their beloved ship, but Min Sung- the botanist- can’t tune Barron out for the life of her. Each word adds to the tension already thrumming through her slim frame, and finally–

She can’t take it any more.

“Shut the fuck up, ensign,” she snarls, and Barron snaps away from G with wide, surprised eyes. Min presses into his space, her index finger jabbing painfully into his chest and rising up onto her tiptoes with the force of her ire. She knows she has to keep her voice is pitched low, but that only serves to exacerbate the fury coursing through her. “You are not being helpful, do you hear me? The command, medical, and security departments in their entireties have been thrown in the brig; it doesn’t fucking matter that we’re just scientists or just engineers–we are this ship’s only goddamn hope.”

Barron tries to back away but Min follows him relentlessly, spitting out, “If you can’t handle that, then go take up a lookout. At least your big mouth will be good for giving us a warning.”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” he stutters, frozen in place with his back against the wall of the ship.

Min bares her teeth. “What are you waiting for?” she demands, and he flees without a backwards glance.

She stands taught for a moment, watching him, and then runs a trembling hand over her face. Letting her eyes fall closed, Min tries to pull herself back together; her temper runs hot, but also short. All she can think about is that Barron- green and untried as he is- isn’t wrong. They aren’t trained for this.

Min crouches down next to Givens and clasps her hands between her knees, wishing they’d realized what was happening before it was too late–

Hikaru, with his steady hands and smiling eyes, had been in the botany labs with her at the time of the intrusion. Another two minutes, and she could have had him outfitted in one of the spare uniform shirts tucked into Abd’s desk.

At least then there’d be one command officer floating loose.

Givens’s hand on her knee startles her out of her thoughts. “I’m almost done,” they promise, removing it as soon as her dark eyes meet theirs. “Singh can’t be far behind, either, and knowing Randers and Lee- those little overachievers- they’re already on their way back to engineering.”

Min bites her lip, searching their face for--something. She isn’t sure. Givens is an enigma to her, shockingly memorable in every facet of their personality, and yet sometimes she looks at them and has no idea who they are.

“Think it’s going to work, G?” she asks, softly, and Givens’s gaze flicks away, returning to the work in front of them.

They shrug, their voice almost grim as they tell her, “I think it has to.”

Min reaches out to squeeze their knee in return. Her voice tilts sardonically as she comments, “She asks a lot of us, this ship, doesn’t she?”

“Well.” Givens tilts their face to her slightly, though their eyes are still focused on the exposed wiring in the paneling of the ship. “If anyone can live up to those demands, it’s Lieutenant Min Sung, the botanist of the USS Enterprise.”

“Min Sung, the botanist,” she corrects. Givens’s brow furrows further, their mouth opening in question, and Min quickly explains, “I get the epithet because there’s a Min Sung in Security, too. She’s an ensign.”

Givens buries their face in their shoulder to muffle their laughter as they continue to work. “I had no idea,” they admit. “I always thought--”

“Company!” Barron hisses, hustling down the hallway towards them, and Min is on her feet before she can think. She reaches for the phaser at her hip- thrown together from spare parts in Lieutenant Commander Scott’s office- but Givens catches her hand.

“I’m done,” they whisper urgently, tugging her along in their wake. “No heroics; Barron, c’mon, let’s get the fuck out of here. Get back to engineering, enact the plan, bust out the captain--”

“Let him do all the heroics,” Min mutters, and Givens snickers.

“Exactly.”

#lieutenant givens #min sung the botanist #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #wristwatch6minslow #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag #I really... like thinking about the other members of the ship #the bridge crew can't possibly always save the day

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Tell us about trans lesbian Picard

…thank you so much.

I haven’t wanted to come right out and post meta about this headcanon because I know it’s a little #outthere and probably of interest to like, me and six singular other people in the world, but I love it a lot so I’ve been furtively mentioning it here and there in tags and the occasional liveblog text post, hoping someone would ask me to elaborate

and now here you are, you beautiful bastard

so, a variety of thoughts:

I want to introduce you first to my other abiding picard headcanon, because they’re both rather intrinsically connected for me:

teenage dirtbag jean luc picard

I firmly believe she was a mess during her formative years, no matter her intelligence and her education (and her desire to emulate an earlier time)

I summarized her one time as “the kind of girl who’d buy caviar and then eat it off of doritos“

see, there’s this story that picard tells wesley when they’re on a shuttle ride together, wherein picard explains that she got stabbed through the heart because she picked a bar fight with three aliens

by telling them they stink and insulting their mothers

(sidenote: this is my favorite story anyone in trek has ever told)

and to me, it screams one thing: picard was an angry teenager.

we see her now, settled into her captaincy, with bookshelves of shakespeare and a talent for diplomacy, and it’s easy to think this is the way she’s always been–

but you don’t start life or death bar fights just because you’re full of yourself, and you don’t get the kind of wisdom she has by being born with it

you get it by making mistakes

and, look. I want to believe we’ve made a lot of progress by the twenty-fourth century, I do

a good world- the world of star trek- will not be openly hostile to trans women by the time she’s growing up, but ignorance endures

I don’t think most of the people in the world are going to really understand her, regardless of the steps forward we’ll have taken as a society

I mean:

she’s a woman, but she dresses in a relatively androgynous way

she’s a woman, but motherhood doesn’t appeal to her

she’s a woman, but she loves other women

for all that the above are only “weird” for reasons steeped in sexism and homophobia, it’s often hard for cis people to understand “why” trans people are trans when they don’t conform to sexist/homophobic stereotypes, and I can easily imagine micro-aggressions of that sort persisting even once society as a whole has “moved past” transphobia

so jean luc picard is trans, and a lesbian, and the subtle way the world around her reacts to these facts means she spends most of her formative years angry for reasons it’s hard for her to even pin down

she spends a lot of time with her nose buried in ancient literature and philosophical treatises, she watches the stars, and she excels in school and is popular among her peers--

but she also smarts off to those- including her brother- who already resent her for her successes, and she maybe drinks just shy of too much of her dad’s wine, and more than anything, she goes through life with a chip on her shoulder, picking fights for stupid reasons 

over time, of course, she learns how to swallow her temper and think before she shouts or throws a punch; she learns how to fight for what’s right instead of lashing out at everything around her

more importantly, she settles into her skin

god, it’s gotta easier to be who you are when you stop having to defend that person to the rest of the world

even with time and maturity, of course, she still has her sore spots:

she’s not comfortable around children

motherhood’s unappealing to her as a concept, and the thought of being involved in the conception of a child is an intensely dysphoric one for her; interacting with anyone under the age of seventeen is a singularly unpleasant experience, and it’s one she manages to avoid right up until the enterprise-d is deployed with full families aboard

then, of course, there’s also q, the omnipotent male alien with an obsession with her

playing nice to avoid the destruction of her ship is all well and good, but she really wishes “fuck off I’m gay” were a diplomatically viable statement

#jean luc picard #trans headcanons #a tramp stamp original #well hello there stranger #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag #there I have now revealed the tng headcanon closest to my heart #I also really like her dynamics with bev vash and guinan but I thought this was long enough as is #those are more just......... my gay multishipping heart having opinions and not intrinsically related to trans lesbian jean luc picard