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eco-lite · 9 months

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I’m once again returning to do god’s work by bringing you delightful moments from Spock’s World by Diane Duane.

[Text ID: “Spock was bent over [the Science Station], making some adjustment. ‘Readout now,’ he said, straightening and looking over his shoulder at the large, shaggy-fringed rock that was sitting in the center seat. Some of those glittering fringes stroked the open circuitry of the communicator controls in the seat’s arm. ‘Point nine nine three,’ said a scratchy voice from the voder box mounted on the rock’s back. ‘A nice triple sine.’ ‘Nice?’ said Spock. Jim raised an eyebrow: you could have used Spock’s tone of voice to dry out a martini.” End ID]

There’s a Horta crewman on the Enterprise now and they’re great!

[Text ID: “Still working on her doctoral thesis, Jim thought. Uhura was busy working on improving universal translator theory, mostly by taking the old theory to pieces and putting it back together in shapes that were causing a terrible furor in academic circles on various planets. Jim vividly remembered one night quite a long time ago when he had asked Uhura exactly how she was going about this. She had told him, for almost an hour without stopping, and in delighted and exuberant detail, until his head was spinning with phoneme approximations and six-sigma evaluations and the syntactic fade and genderbend and recontextualization and linguistic structural design and the physics of the human dextrocerebral bridge. The session had left Jim shaking his head, thoroughly disabused of the idea (and ashamed of how long he had held it) that Uhura was simply a sort of highly trained switchboard operator.” End ID]

Uhura continues to be a total badass and is amazing at what she does.

[Text ID: Chatroom title in all caps: “COMMON ROOM OPINION, INFORMED AND NON- RANTING AND RAVING PERMITTED NAMES NOT NECESSARY” Regular text: “It was one of the places he came to find out what his crew was thinking. Messages did not have to be attributed to a name or terminal, but they could not be private. The office of the common room system operator rotated through the crew, offered to various members on the strength of their psych profiles in areas like calm reaction to stress and anger. The common room syops tended to be closemouthed and dependable, the kind of person that others refer to as ‘a rock.’ (Once it had actually been Naraht, to the amusement of just about everyone.) Here tempers could flare, awful jokes be told safely, suspicions be aired, rumors be shot down. The common room was sometimes a peaceful place, sometimes a powderkeg. Jim never ignored it.” End ID]

The Enterprise has a dumpster fire chat room that has just as much shitposting and vitriol as twitter.

[Text ID: “Jim bowed over her free hand. ‘It’s been too long,’ he said. ‘It’s good to be back,’ Amanda said. ‘And in the middle of a party as well.’ She looked a little wry. ‘A little entertainment will be pleasant before the deluge.’ Sarek’s eyes flicked to Kirk, a considering look. ‘My wife speaks figuratively,’ he said, ‘in the tradition of her people. Deluges are not common on Vulcan.’ ‘My husband speaks circumspectly,’ Amanda said, just as dryly, ‘in the tradition of his.’” End ID]

Amanda and Sarek are as charming as ever.

[Text ID: “Jim was mildly surprised to see that to his other rank tags and decorations, McCoy had added a small, understated IDIC. ‘If I didn’t know you better,’ he said, ‘I’d think you were going native. When did you get that?’ ‘Today in the gift shop, when you were looking at the snowball paperweights with Mount Seleya in them. Tackiest things I ever saw.’ ‘Yes,’ Spock said; ‘they were imported from Earth.’ ‘You be quiet. We can’t let these people leave the Federation, Jim. At least not until they teach us how to make tasteful souvenirs.’” End ID]

Just this.

[Text ID: “There was Sreil, the burly, brown-haired biologist from the Academy, and T’Madh, a little bright-eyed woman of great age and curiosity, a computer programmer; and her son Savesh, who when asked what he did, said, ‘I am a farmer,’ with a sort of secret satisfaction that hinted he thought his job better than any of the more technical ones that the people around him held. Jim had to smile; the thought of a Vulcan farmer was slightly funny, even though there naturally had to be some. But the image of a Vulcan in coveralls, chewing on a stalk of hay, kept coming up and having to be repressed.” End ID]

I love Savesh the Vulcan farmer!

[Text ID: “’Jim,’ he said, ‘the best translation of nehau would be an old word: “vibes.” The feeling-in-your-bones that something gives you. It’s highly subjective.’ ‘Right. Go on, Savesh.’ ‘Well, Captain, I have heard numerous Vulcans say that losing the Federation and the Earth people would be no particular loss, because they had bad nehau, and that could not fail to affect us sooner or later.. But I must tell you that I find your nehau not objectionable at all; pleasant, even.’ End ID]

Vulcan wanting to leave the Federation because the ~vibes~ are off.

[Text ID: “His grasp of dialect and idiom as amazing for anybody, off-planet or on. He once reduced the President of the United States—then a ceremonial post, but one much loved by the people who lived within the old borders—to tears of laughter at a state dinner, by delivering a learned dissertation on computer data storage technology in a flawless Texan accent. The lady was later heard to propose an amendment to the Constitution to allow off-worlders to hold high public office, so that she could have him for her running mate in the next election.” End ID]

I would give anything to hear Sarek do a perfect Texas accent.

[Text ID: “—but when Amanda became annoyed over what she perceived as his smugness about being right, her eyes would flash and she would become splendidly insulting, usually in bizarre Anglish idiom that Sarek found as refreshing as it was annoying. She caused him to laugh out loud for the first time in many years when she told him, after a disagreement over the translation of the word for war, that he should only grow headfirst in the ground like a turnip. Later that month, when he was right about something again and made the mistake of not immediately down-playing it, she issued him with a formal malediction, wishing that the curse of Mary Malone and her nine blind orphan children might pursue him so far over the hills and the seas that God Almighty couldn’t find him with a radio telescope. Sarek laughed so hard at that that he entirely lost his breath, and Amanda panicked and started to give him cardiopulmonary resuscitation, which was useless, because his heart was somewhere other than the spot on which she was pounding. It took him nearly an hour to recover: he kept laughing. He had never been cursed like that before, not even by union leaders, and it was very refreshing.” End ID]

This dynamic is perfect, no notes.

[Text ID: “The next night they sat in the Rec Deck again, in the middle of a large impromptu party that was going on around them by way of celebration. The sense of relief in the ship was palpable. A group of about a hundred crewfolk, mostly human, had surrounded Spock earlier in the evening and sung ‘For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow,’ accompanied by twenty crewmen on kazoos. Sarek had been given champagne.” End ID]

I really hope the TOS Enterprise has crew performances like on Next Gen. This kazoo band needs to be heard! Also, I can perfectly picture Spock’s annoyed-but-tolerant expression as he resigns himself to the kazoo serenade.

Thank you @dianeduane for making me laugh!

#star trek #star trek tos #spock’s world #diane duane #star trek books #star trek novels #spock #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #sarek #amanda grayson

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mercurygguk · 1 year

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TEASER; ambivalence · jjk (m)

··· summary; you and jungkook used to be a thing before your careers took off but it ended badly, the result being hatred for one another. now, the universe is sick and twisted in all sorts of fucked up ways and brings the two of you back into each other’s lives; on the set for a porn video.

this fic is part of the ‘industry baby’ collab hosted by myself & @jeonjcngkook !

pairing; p*rnstar!jk x p*rnstar!fem reader

word count; 15k approx.

rating; 18+

content; enemies to lovers au, p*rn (with a plot) au

warnings; mentions/intake of alcohol, explicit content (will be specified in final post!)

release date; mid/end may

author’s note; here’s my fic for the ‘industry baby’ collab! i’m very excited to share it with you guys and hear your thoughts on it!! i’ll do my best to post it around mid/end may but given my trip to the US i don’t want to promise too much :’) despite all of that, please look forward to this and let me know your thoughts so far!

a BIG thank you to sav for asking me to host this collab with her! i’m so very proud of this little project of ours and i can’t wait to read all the masterpieces that will be posted for this collab! <3

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spencereid-reads · 1 month

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the language of you | s. reid

wc: 2.1k // warnings: english isn't my first language! an extreme amount of italics, meet-cute, love at first poem sight kinda thing. poems that i found on either google or pinterest. a few swear words, maybe? // a/n: my first time writing for reid and cm in general. i'm in the middle of season 9 and idk where this idea came from. also i don't know anything about poetry, the last quote is as far as my knowledge goes. if you think you know me from my other writing blog no you don't<3but ily also idk if i'll keep writing, i just wanted to post it bc of world poetry day, i think it's a nice coincidence.

i use she/her pronouns//fem!reader in almost all of my fics!

the cold hallways of the university building aren't as big and intimidating as he remembered. and this time, they welcomed him with open arms. he was just a kid when he first set foot here, and now here he was, being invited by a member of his team to teach the young minds of college kids.

spencer reid had never been a great public speaker, sure, he had the qualities of one, but he was also known to ramble on and on about a specific subject if he was interested enough in it, most likely overwhelming and quite often scaring the class attendees.

he followed dr. blake through the crowded halls, she'd invited him along to one of her lectures, she needed someone with vast knowledge about, -well, everything-, and a quick mind, and he was the perfect addition to her classes.

it was weird, being on the other side of the lecture hall, with dozens of eyes set on him as he spoke, he wasn't nervous per se, more... aware of the situation. but luckily the students were focused, paid attention and asked good questions. he considered that a win in his book. without noticing, the 90 minute class was over, and he approached blake after gathering his things and crossing his signature leather bag over his shoulder.

"ready to head back?" he asked.

"not quite, there's a friend of mine giving a lecture next door, it's her first class, actually. thought we'd stop by for a bit, wish her good luck." she said, sliding her black blazer back on.

"sure, what's it about?"

"you'll see. i think you'll enjoy it." she gave him a sly smile, making her way up the steps, he stood there for a second, wondering what the subject might be. there were a lot of things that he enjoyed, physics, math, science.

spencer caught up to her just as she opened the door to the other lecture hall, sliding in behind alex as his eyes adjusted to the change of lighting. compared to the room they'd just left, this felt nothing like a classroom. it felt more like a theater.

the lights were off, the room being lit up by fake candles lining both sets of steps on each side of the room, and he noticed real candles on the front stage, the flames dancing with the subtle change of pressure as a girl, maybe as young as he was, walked on stage. a book in her hand, but she didn't need it, whatever she was saying was from memory, the worlds flowing effortlessly out her mouth.

he stood frozen in his spot, it took him two seconds to recognize and figure out what was going on.

"lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass. what does it matter that i couldn’t keep her. the night is fractured and she is not with me." she recited, eyes closed as she stopped walking, even from his spot at the top of the steps he could see her facial expression, a frown on her face as her eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as if she was the one feeling the pain the author was describing.

neruda. poetry.

spencer had never been the biggest fan of poetry, but maybe he just hadn't found the right person to teach him about it.

what an incredulous thought, someone teaching a subject to genius spencer reid? but he couldn't help but be drawn to the soft voice that spoke with love, sorrow and rhythm.

"my voice tried to find the breeze to reach her. another’s kisses on her, like my kisses. her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes."

she was savoring each word in her tongue, and spencer's ears perked up at every sound that left her mouth.

"wonder boy, come on," alex's whisper brought him out of his thoughts, as he followed her down the candlelit steps to one of the first rows.

how he wished he could've stayed up there, hidden within the shadows, since he couldn't take two steps without his eyes having to find the young lecturer again, slowing down his legs.

but from down there he noticed the way the candles lit her face, casting a soft golden glow, and now he found himself thanking the small flames scattered around the stage.

she threw the two fbi agents a look, a knowing gleam in her eye as she recognized the female doctor. it was fleeting, she didn’t let the interaction distract her from the verses and the words slipping from her lips.

“loving is so short, forgetting is so long,” she breathed the words, barely audible as she felt every syllable in every bone of her body.

as she finished the poem, deafening silence fell upon the room, and spencer realized how quiet the room had been since he arrived, yet her soft voice seemed to fill it effortlessly.

“has anyone here ever felt emotions as strong as the ones depicted in the poem? joy, sadness, anger?” she asked, somehow leaving aside the ‘character’ she’d slipped into as she recited the words written by neruda. “love? has anyone ever experienced this… deep, unshakeable need to absolutely possess someone? to keep them all for your own, locked in a room to look, touch, admire as much as you wish?” she continued, eyes scanning the room, and spencer’s breathing hitched when she placed her eyes on him. “i know how it sounds like, but- poetry and language, is quite possibly the best way to express those intense feelings.”

“what about sex?” a voice from the crowd asked.

“that’s a great way too,” she nodded, laughing along with the class, “but have you ever stood in front of a girl, a boy, a person you truly feel like you’d die for, and told them exactly that? how just the touch of their hand holding someone else’s would rip your soul out of your body, or how you’d swim oceans just to get to hear their laugh one last time? i don’t know about you, but i feel like that’s a hundred times better than sex.” she continued, walking from one side of the stage to the other, using her hands and changing the tone in her voice to emphasize what she wanted to say. “i promise you that by the end of this semester you’ll be able to put all of that into your own words. read, everyone. please, read and do your research, and i promise you that you’ll get your chance to be neruda, dickinson. anybody can be a poet. poetry is about feelings, thoughts, the things that keep you up at night, and being able to put all of that into words. read, even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, but think about what they want to say. i know it’s our first class but i’ll leave you some work for friday. just pick a poem, learn it and present it here, i want to see what we’re working with. that’s it for today, thank you.” she vowed her head like an actor who’d just finished a play, walking around the stage as she blew the candles off.

“come on, let’s go say hi,” alex stood up, prompting spencer to do the same, and he had to swallow the feelings inside of him. his mind repeating every word the girl onstage had just said. he knew the importance of poetry, he had a few favorite poets, and he knew about all the hard technical work that was behind writing a good poem, but he’d never taken the time to think about the personal aspect of the work.

“dr. blake, great to see you here,” she greeted the older woman, who embraced her in a hug.

“you too. you were great there, no one would’ve thought it was your first time teaching,”

“well, what can i say, i learned everything from you.”

“please, our fields are as far apart as they could be. it’s all thanks to that big brain of yours. which, speaking of, meet dr. spencer reid, we work together.” alex stepped aside, revealing a tall man, hands fidgeting with his leather bag and long strands of hair covering his forehead. alex always had a soft spot for spencer, the young genius reminded her of herself, once upon a time.

“pleasure to meet you, dr. reid,” the young girl smiled at him, offering her hand.

“likewise,” he said, taking her hand in his. alex’s eyebrows raised, she’d been expecting a speech about germs and pathogens but got none.

“so, what’d you think? was it too much? think i scared the kids?”

“today’s youth doesn’t take things too seriously, they prefer one night stands and lack of commitment.” spencer explained.

“think i’m reaching for the stars for trying to get them to channel their emotions and actually feel them?” the young professor asked him, a smile on her face told him that she’d already thought about that.

“not necessarily, studies have proven that people who can feel and acknowledge their emotions are happier, live longer and have better relationships with themselves and others. also, they have more confidence in themselves and can make lasting relationships, but physical and emotional.” he continued, and this time dr. blake spoke.

“so if you do your job right you’ll get lots of people laid,”

“ah, if only i could make that work for me,” she replied, heat creeping onto her cheeks as she looked down. her words made spencer stop breathing.

“i’m sure someone with your wits and… well, you could get anyone you want,” the words slipped out before he could control them.

“sounds easier said than done, but i’ve decided to devote my life to my work and books, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone coming anytime soon to change that. i’m alright with that, life is more than that.” she shrugged her shoulder.

“not enjoyment, and not sorrow, is our destined end or way; but to act, that each tomorrow find us farther than today.” spencer recalled from memory.

“you speak my language, doctor,” the young professor breathed. and the older woman took the opportunity to interfere.

“like i said, genius. you two should talk, he’s got a very interesting brain that i’m sure you’d love to pick,” she reached toward her friend, wrapping her in a quick hug, “i’ll meet you out there, reid, i have a few things to do.” with that she walked out of the lecture hall, leaving the two young brilliant minds together.

“sorry about her, she’s been trying to set me up with someone since we met. i was her t.a back when i was a grad student.”

“you worked with her?” spencer asked, internally rolling his eyes at himself, she’d obviously just stated that.

“yup. i know, how could someone go from linguistics applied in criminology to poetry? it’s a big leap, but… she’s helped me more than anyone in my entire career.” she spoke with fondness in her voice. “anyway, she was right. i would love to pick that brain of yours.” she said, “sorry, that sounded weird, but-”

“no, no, it’s- fine. i- i’d like to talk to you, more, as well.”

“it’s a date, then.” she smiled, even wider when she noticed the slight blush creeping on his cheeks,

“if only i could recollect it, such a day of days. i let it come and go as traceless as a thaw of bygone snow; it seemed to mean so little, meant so much-” spencer started, the words taking over his mind and mouth before he could even think about it.

“if only now i could recall that touch, first touch of a hand in hand- did one but know,” she finished for him.

“i-i,” he started, surprising himself by the way he stuttered. “i don't speak your language, not like you do, not yet. i'm not a poet. but… i want to learn… i want to.”

she breathed out, all the air leaving her lungs, his wild eyes scanned all over her face, not profiling. but learning, taking in her cues, and a pressure left his shoulders when she saw her lips twitching, breaking for a smile.

“i may be the writer, but you'll always be the words.” she took a step toward him, his eyes settling for her own, it helped him calm down. “it's like i said, anybody can be a poet.”

“i-i’ll see you friday?” he said.

“friday?” she raised her eyebrows.

“yeah, you-you said you had to see what you're working with?”

“i do.” she nodded, a playful gleam in her eyes, “i guess i’ll see you friday. we can get coffee, before coming here.” she suggested.

“is that special treatment, professor?” one more time, he surprised himself by the way he spoke to her, like it was the most natural thing to do. we wished it never stopped, he wanted to hear her amused laugh again.

“maybe.” she bit her lip as she laughed.

****

“this could be the start of something new, and it feels so right to be here with you.”

-high school musical

#i finished this a few days ago #i didn't know if i wanted to post it #but #i just read that today is world poetry day #and wow #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds imagine

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octoling-wearing-gauges · 8 months

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oop

#this ones pretty old by now #but i never posted it anywhere soo #<:)#my art #lars barriga #sadie miller #larsadie #steven universe #lars x sadie #fanart #sav draws

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aemondsdoll · 1 year

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MASTERLIST

hey, i’m sav. i write for the asoiaf universe.

be wary, most of these are smut! i write for...

aemond

aegon

daemon

helaena

rhaenyra

alicent

Aemond Targaryen

One bed?

there is only one bed, and three of them.

Withheld Desire

aemond x best friend reader bang at a party

I’ve got my eye on you

Aegon drags reader to a party and she catches Aemonds eye.

That girl

aemond and aegon meet their childhood friend for the first time in a while, and she’s grown.

Knight in shining armour

aemond catches reader when she falls.

Wicked Game

aemond has an infatuation with aegons wife, and she returns his affections.

Forget Honor | 2 |

aegon and aemond both forget their honour when it comes to their girl.

Sweet Thing | 2 |

aemond delves into his deepest desire, to be needed, thus, he find a sugar baby.

Compensation

Your husbands brother takes over.

Aegon Targaryen

Fantasies

jace doesn’t meet readers needs, but Aegon does.

Caught

reader knew aegon was risky, but not this risky.

One bed

there is only one bed, and three of them.

That girl

aemond and aegon meet their childhood friend for the first time in a while, and she’s grown.

Best Friends Brother

in which aegon teaches innocent Helaenas best friend how to kiss.

Forget Honor | 2 |

aegon and aemond both forget their honour when it comes to their girl.

Daemon Targaryen

You in my helm

daemon sure does love seeing the reader in his helm.

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landgraabbed · 3 months

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the three monkeys of bloom valley, a tiny space for locals to enjoy the outdoors

#p #ts2 #sims 2 #sav: bloom valley #i haven't playtested it yet lmfao #i finally decided to fill the 1x1 spaces i had in the map and for once in my life decided to build something myself #i still have a community garden + seed shop to make but that will be a diff time #mayhaps after i'm done assembling the uni hood (landgraab university) with lots stolen from here and there #(i say stolen as in i don't remember where i got all of them but wholeheartedly say are not mine)

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synnthamonsugar · 7 months

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Immaru continues to be the funniest character in.D2

GOD. THE GOING UNDERCOVER IN THE LAST CITY LORE KILLED ME. (Total aside, I didn't expect hive ghosts to be able to just ... shimmy out of their shells like that, I don't know *why* because ghosts *can* always leave their shells. Maybe because they have weird soulfire cores instead of the hard little balls of glass and metal that regular ghosts have? Which - a second layer of aside - explains why he needs to wear the sunglasses...)

Anyway...

Immaru should be the sort of character I hate with a fiery passion (funnyman who cannot only not shut up, but needs to shit talk everyone constantly) but can't because I too think Savathun is the universe's best, smartest, specialest and funniest woman who has suffered so, so badly and is so correct about everything and should thus be allowed to do whatever she wants forever. Which immediately makes me sympathetic to him. He's also a clueless little orb of impotent rage who could be physically rended apart with a single well placed squeeze, which frankly lights up some masochistic "put that obnoxious man in situations" part of my brain like a christmas tree.

The fact that Savathun obviously loves him but is also aware enough that he can't be trusted with her plans is hysterical, we love a woman who REFUSES to be codependent even if she kinda like, on an ontological level, needs to be codependent given the nature of the Guardian-Ghost bond. I like that he's not particularly upset about this.

Like Sav, he seems more invested in the overall goal of protecting the Light / Traveler than allegiance to any particular group, which I also feel immensely sympathetic toward. Fundamentally I can't disagree with him that we should have let Sav steal/protect the Traveler, even though that would have ended extremely badly for the residents of Sol. I don't care who bashes the Witness' shit in, I just want someone, anyone, to.

Dearly hoping we get to see him and Sav actually interact before this arc of the story is closed up.

#destiny #immaru #savathun #asks

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winnower-winnower · 1 year

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Xivu Arath and Savathun really do just destroy me. The dynamic they have..

What truly kills me about them, and with oryx as well, is that despite what they’ve become, the sheer mass of years and experiences they’ve accumulated, smiles and wounds all around, they never feel like they’ve lost the core of their sibling-hood. I believe Oryx said it best when he reflected upon it:

“Oryx looks at her and for a moment, just a moment, he is nostalgic, he is sentimental. He thinks, imagine the years behind us, the things we’ve done. And yet being old doesn’t feel like a scar, does it? It hasn’t left me dull. I feel alive, alive with you, and every time I step back into this world from my throne I feel like I’m two years old again, at the bottom of the universe, looking up.”

Their character arcs revolving almost entirely around their siblinghood crushes me. They are written in such a way that like, yeah they’re huge incomprehensibly old and powerful “we clap and a star dies” figures, but they’re also still two years old, running off on adventures and smiling and laughing and rough-housing and pondering together. I think it’s beautiful that this dynamic never really goes away. Very little about how they regarded each other changed, godlike powers or no.

Until Oryx died. (Perhaps even earlier, when they all parted ways for a bit. I like to think they still visited one another with echoes every now and then). I also am not sure how much was actually covered in game about specifically Sav and Xivu’s reactions to his death. If there was I’d love to go read up on it if anyone knows where to find it!

That being said, I just. The death of a sibling, an older sibling, someone who you have galavanted across the universe with for longer than some galaxies and star systems have existed, what a shattering thing that would be. I’m a middle sibling myself, and Savathun’s perspective on that matter does intrigue me, but it’s Xivu Arath who I am most drawn to in this matter.

The death of her eldest sibling, her brother Oryx. We have an entire journal entry from her perspective in the books of sorrow that details the level of love and respect she had for him. I can imagine what kind of grief his loss would entail. Wavering, even if just for a moment, beneath the weight of this new truth to the universe, that oryx would not be present for the end of this great journey they started together. To see just how far the rolling strength of the hive, his family, could reach.

And then a further shattering, with Savathun’s betrayal, Xivu Arath is left alone. Completely, totally, alone. The youngest of the oldest gods, the youngest of the most fearsome gods. The most fearsome of the gods, because she is the last of them? Angry angry youngest child outlook on life, it must come through when Xivu comes to properly take the stage in the coming narrative. I want to see so, so much from her gosh.

Need that Xivu and Sav conversation on the current state of affairs, on the loss of a brother and a loss of a sister (for both, respectively) immediately. Angry and seething and oh, so sibling like of them.

#xivu arath #oryx #savathun #destiny #musings #grieving their losses Fr rn

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