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@starstcff-z
#STARSTCFF,Β independent,Β Β extremely private,Β Β plot - driven multimuse, featuring characters from star trek, doctor who, librarians, stargate and marvel, adored by odette ( she/her, 26, brazil ).
primary muses: beverly crusher, fanny price, sidney la forge, peter parker && josh lyman
β½ β± βΎ carrd.Β Β Β β½ β±β± βΎ interest tracker. β½ β±β±β± βΎ inbox tag β½ β±α΅ βΎ @nursc
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cisco to iris: βbeing smart doesnβt mean i actually βknow it all.ββ
ββ β β You have three different t-shirts in Klingon that say that you actually know it all.β β β ββ β β Iris quips back, following him around the lab with her laptop, launching back into her spiel.β β β ββ β β And you love research! Learning something new, figuring it out, that's your thing! Come on, I just have a few questions, and who better to answer them than the city's resident genius? β β β β β β β
Flattery is a powerful weapon, but that is not where she is going. It is not going to work with Cisco, he is far too clever for that. She has a much better card up her sleeve to get him to do what she wants
Shoulders drop with a sigh, her steps faltering as she starts looking around the room for something, someone.β β β ββ β β You know what, you are right. You donβt know everything. Iβm gonna stop bothering you. β β β β β β a beat, and then she adds:
ββ β β Can you tell me where Wells is? β β β β
barry to iris: βoh, we share clothes now?β (a joke, he's joking, he loves it)
Undisturbed, Iris does not look up from her computer, tongue-peaking out as she puts the finishing touches on her latest piece, a stubborn sentence refusing to conform to her taste. After switching out the verb three times, starting from the end, and then scrapping it, she finally deftly inserts the information into another sentence.
Hitting save ββΒ she is still going to read it three times before sending it to her editor ββΒ she finally looks up at him, soft brown eyes as innocent as a lamb's, lush lips puckered in a pout, perfectly adorable and sweet, as if she wasn't wearing the evidence.
ββ β β I bought this.β β β ββ β β Iris says, wearing a sweatshirt from his college, that's three sizes too big for her.
barry to iris: βis that as much of an answer as youβre gonna give me?β
ββ β β Consider this... payback.β β β ββ β β Iris replies leaning against the railing, dark black hair swaying in the evening breeze. It was more of an answer than he usually gave her: The Flash was a hero to this city, but a nightmare to its star reporter, dangling secrets and dizzying clues. It was about time he chased his own tail for a change.
Smirk blossoms on her features, wide and cocky, only a slight quiver to her bottom lip betraying her nerves, how much she needs this. β β ββ β β Give me something, and I might be inclined to share more.β β β β
jack had so been hoping that was the case, of course. βΒ Β regret? me?Β Β βΒ Β he replies, and there's something to her face he's seen before. one synonymous with a name he rarely speaks aloud. instead of chasing the white rabbit, he chooses the lesser of the sordid options, and simply grins.Β Β βΒ Β about time.Β Β β jack settles on. β i was starting to think we'd never leave.Β β he peers around, patting a quick hand to his end of the console. βΒ Β no offence, eleos.Β Β β a beat. βΒ Β a man's got t' stretch his legs once in a while.Β Β β
ββ β β You are still waiting for the day it replies, aren't you?β ββ It could reply, of course, the technology providing the ship with an almost human-like voice, the chirp mildly disturbing. It was just the way Jack spoke to it, as if it would reply in the same tone, grumbly and charmed by his antics.β ββ β β I just... want you to be careful, okay? I know I've said this a hundred times already. But be a good boy, and listen to your mother: they are as stubborn as we, and that's dangerous.β ββ Beverly says, reaching over to grasp his hand between hers, voice and touch pleading for caution, for the possibility of regret.β
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brother? well, that was one way to get into whatever this was. and whatever this was? peter didn't like it. one moment he'd been in his apartment, feet barely on the floor after a long night of scouting the streets, and the next he was staring at himself. or some other version of him - who had a brother apparently.
"uh, sure. brother. like - older, younger, twins, really close best friends? I'd love an explanation."
The voice gives him pause. That is not Ben, or Kaine; similar, almost a replica of how they sound, to how he sounds, but just distinctly different enough for his body to freeze, spider-senses telling him he sized up the situation too quickly.
it was one of those situations... He was really hoping it was a clone, they are much easier to deal with.
ββ β β Let me guess: radioactive spider, freak accident, orphan. Any of that ring a bell, buddy? β ββ
He could pretend to be strong and capable all he wanted, she could see the weak spots, the ways to push him around exactly how she wanted. He had made the mistake of pissing off the wrong person this time. Miranda was not going to let him off EASY for his attitude. In her eyes, he was a disgrace, both to humanity and Starfleet as a whole. She no longer threw such accusations around as lightly as she had done a lifetime ago but he had all but earned to be called out for his behaviour. Eyes narrowed at his tasteless idea of a JOKE. He was lucky she had softened a bit since leaving her home behind. In the empire she would have stabbed him for running his mouth like that.
" You really think you're funny, don't you? " She had to admit the sudden fear in his eyes amused her. So there WERE things that still got to him. Good. He wasn't entirely a hopeless case then. Not yet, anyway. As she spoke, she pressed the blade just a little further, careful not to actually harm him ( she did not need a court martial over something this stupid ) but hoping it would scare him a little more. It seemed like this was the only kind of wake up call he would understand. " And what if I don't want to protect you? Or hell, what if I'm not around to help you? Then what? Are you just gonna lay down and die? Do nothing with your life? Life is a GIFT, you know ... and you are currently wasting it. " She finally withdrew the knife, moving it back into its sheath in one quick motion.
" You? Fighting me? I'd love to see you try. " Taking a step back she lifted her arms, inviting him to attack her, do SOMETHING. " C'mon, you talk shit like that? Prove you can actually do something about it. "
ββ β β Ah, ah, ah! I said I could fight you, if you wanted, but you don't. Not really.β ββ Henry said, hoping beyond hope that he was right, fully aware that his stature and toned muscles were all for show compared to the speed and agility she possessed; his back was already hurting from her flipping him over a moment ago, he'd be walking around with a limp for a week if she kept this up for much longer.
A breath he was fully aware he was holding rushes past his lips when the knife is out of play. He is not the sort. And she isn't either, which means she actually means business. Instead of reassessing and playing nice, he presses on, needling her, throwing words in every direction to see if one of them sticks. If nothing else, they might just piss her off enough that she leaves him alone to ice his back. β β β ββ β β You just proved to me that I don't need to do it. Protect myself or fight you. If life is a gift, you are going to protect it. And you can't tell someone how to use their gifts, it doesn't work like that.β ββ β β His father would disagree: gifts from the admiral always came with strings.
ββ β β β And, I am funny. You'd know that if you had a sense of humor.β ββ
i regret to inform you all that i'm entering my west wing era.
THE WEST WING 1.04 β βFive Votes Downβ
#monster munch supremacy
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PRISCILLA QUINTANA Pandora (2019-)
i think i'm going to give this blog a little makeover next week
βYes, of course.β Kit answered, his face falling ever so slightly. βYouβre right. We shouldnβt let ourselves cling too much to the idea. It would just hurt all the more to have to let him go.β
Rubbing his lips together, the king couldnβt help but wonder if he was a terrible person, a horrendously selfish and cruel man, for hoping that there would be no one to claim the babe. Even if it would be for his wifeβs sake, it was still an awful thing to wish upon a child so young and defenseless.
βI shall ride out and meet up with Frederick as soon as I change. I just wanted to bring him to you first, so we know heβd be safe while we search. Daphne and Beatrice are gathering things for him, and Iβve set Prudence to getting a better cot. This one works fine, but itβs an old one of my motherβs. Meant for dolls, not babies. Weβll need a more suitable one regardless of how long heβs to stay.β
Balancing the baby on one arm, Ella raises a hand to touch his cheek, heart aching for the excitement she saw slowly dissipate from his features.β It gnawed at her that she was the cause of his unhappiness:β not being able to give him a child, and now, being wary of this unexpected bundle of love and joy he brought home.β
ββ β β You are going to be such a wonderful father.β I can see it now.β Have courage, and... β ββ she trails off, lifting her hand from his cheek to bring it to her lips, pressing a kiss to her fingertips before gently pressing it against his lips.β ββ β β and faith.β We must have faith, mustn't we?β β β
ββ β β Frederick can lead the search, stay with us.β ββ
β the last time you took an offer from starfleet, you became a terrorist. β kira states plainly. legs swing from a prior position of comfort, her unfolded knees and the soles of her feet rest flat against the ground. leaning forward, she looks at ro laren intently. still, with years of experience in reading people, kira knows better than to force her to stay ββ but it doesn't change the fact that there's a need to offer her own opinion. β oh, lemme guess ββ starfleet intelligence? sections 31? or... or one of those recruiters that bounce from planet to planet? β the humorous edge in her voice carefully masks the slight concern she feels about this ordeal. with her raktajino settled down on the surface nearest, the captain leans forward. β so. you gonna take it? β
ββ β β I guess there is no need to ask for your opinion,β β ββ β she scoffs, not exactly surprised by the reaction..β Neither of them ever minced their words, especially with each other, brutal, naked honesty was the most effective sort of communication, and she was thankful for it.β Usually.β Most of the time, she could count on Nerysβs sharp judgement to pull her back from a foolhardy idea, it also made her smile more often than not, something about her nonsense tone turning the most common phrases humorous. β β Not today. β No, right now, the plain-spoken words only added to her confusion. β ββ β β And I choose to become a terrorist, they were very eager to stop that development.β β β
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Actually, Fannyβs response to Maryβs attitude toward the Admiral is extremely interesting characterization. Fanny thinks Mary should be grateful to the Admiral because she is grateful to Sir Thomas! She has endured eight years of mistreatment in his house, but she suppresses all of that because she feels she should be grateful to him for giving her a place to live. Of course she disapproves of Mary publicizing her disapproval of her bad guardianβFanny doesnβt even allow herself to disapprove of her bad guardians in private. Fannyβs response isnβt her being the stick-in-the-mud Moral Arbiterβitβs just her own response to her upbringing.
Fanny and Mary sit on opposite extremes of the How To Respond To Bad Guardians scale. Maryβs is to Talk About Everything To Everyone and Fannyβs is to Never Talk About It Under Any Circumstances Ever. Mary goes too far in one direction, and Fanny goes way too far in the other. The appropriate response sits somewhere in the middle, but the contrast of the two extremes is very interesting.
"Susan isn't the end all be all of decision making." Lucy soothed him, laying her hand gently on his arm. "And she's not as intimidating as she tries to be. She's just... She's concerned with appearances and duty. So she sticks a little too much to tradition and rules when she really doesn't need to. Don't worry about her. Peter and I can handle it. And Ed can be brought in if the need arises. He's really the only one who can get her to see sense sometimes. So there's no need to worry. But, if it troubles you that much, then don't fret. It was just a suggestion. An idea to pass the time."
But still, Lucy had was forming a plan. One that she wouldn't be talked out of, no matter what.
Looping her arm deftly through his, the golden haired queen smiled. "What do you say we go to the gardens for a while? I saw Mrs. Beaver bring in some apples from the orchard earlier. Why don't we go and pick some? Maybe bake some pies and tarts? Or, if you'd prefer, we could go down to the beach and swim?"
Charles doesnβt bother to try to hide the relief on his expression.β β In fairness, he doesnβt know if he still can;β once, long before, the prince was a master at subtlety, in knowing how to speak and move, but his body isnβt his anymore, the muscles on his face are frail and strangers, he is simply a visitor on his body.β β In his bones, he still feels that this reprieve is nothing more than a golden-tinged dream, and when he wakes up in a dreary cave, ravenous after a long slumber, there will be no adventurous young queen waiting for him with a smile, only snow.β
Though, maybe, there is a latent gift still sweetening his tongue.β It is easier to allow her to believe that he is scared as Susan than to give voice to all those swirling doubts, so he just nods with a small smile.β β ββ β β In any case, Iβd rather remain in her good graces.β I am a guest, and... I donβt wish to leave.β β ββ β He doesnβt wish to leave her.β β Lucy is the only thing which makes sense, and he is not ready to face the world without her light to guide his steps.
ββ β β Apples, pies and tarts. β I donβt know how to make them, but I think I still remember how to make cider.β β β
