Winter: -Does Winterish Things-

Say what you want, but USS Discovery is by far the most beautiful Star Trek ship, and there aren't enough pics of it out there. That side by side with the Enterprise though... <3

And for a fic writer in this fandom, it's also damn hard to describe that spore drive jump without a few picture references.

Definitely not me over here photoshopping Airiam into a villain or anything...

Her core structures were much the same, her eyes were still blue and the shapes of the plating along her face identical to what Michael remembered. The colors, though, were different–black, charcoal, white and gold. The white threading of her uniform moved almost seamlessly into the synthetics around her lips and nose, the dark fabric melting into the inky black planes of her neck and throat. She was taller, more imposing somehow, but the stately, proud Airiam Michael knew was absent. This one's eyes, her very being, seemed altogether broken. Like the Airiam in the brig, she was in pain, too. But this one's pain was much different and it could not be helped.

Snippet from fic 4 "Breaking Free" of my Airiam series, and I've been wanting to do this photo edit for a while. I finally found some time, and even though the new idea I've got floating around in my head is a ways off, I am very excited to be able to write her as a villain ^^

This version is also the one I envision in "The Measure of Logic."

...I don't know why I'm like this.

For the Optics full series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/4208095

Rating: Mature (occasional NSFW, with plots)

Relationship: Airiam x Michael Burnham

Fandoms: Star Trek Discovery x Star Trek Voyager

This is SO PRETTY ❤️

But they did not do these two justice in the show 💔 😩

^ Closeup of their cutey faces

Add some leather and a few questionable morals and you have Farscape.

I want a reverse Star Trek, where instead of there being only one or two aliens on a crew full of humans, there's only one human on a crew full of aliens. And like, balls-to-wall weird aliens. Like one of them was bred for low-gravity asteroid mining, so he lives in a little hutch on the outside of the ship; one of them is just a cloud of birds with each individual bird being nonsentient, but they form a hivemind together with natural radiotransmitters in their brains; one of them is a liquid, but not the kind of liquid like Odo where it can take other shapes, so it just needs to be wheeled around everywhere in a tank, etc.

Seasons in NY have even less of an attention span than I do. Will it be winter? Spring? Is that my horse or a mud beast season? Invasive European Starlings swarming and making my house look like it needs an exorcism season? Nobody knows.

It's the weekend and I can WRITE STUFF.

Yay.

Right after I dig the turkey shed out of the snow 😭

Snippet from The Farm at Wardenwood Hollow

On the dryer, the old tabby cat she’d inherited with the apartment was coiled tight into a wad of scraggy fur on a pile of clean clothes she’d folded and forgotten to put away. He purred in his sleep, oblivious to her presence in his soundless, elderly world, so she tapped twice on the fabric to let him know she was home. He blinked and unfurled, long and ribby, mouth gaping open in a nearly-toothless yawn. She held out her hand and he bumped his head against it, then turned in a circle and curled back up on the clothes.

“Rough day?” she asked him, smirking as she rolled the towels and laid them in the cabinet beneath the sink. “Must be nice, freeloadin’ like you are. Ain’t even got the good graces to hear me when I’m talkin’.”

From the medicine cabinet, she pulled out the bag of prescription cat food, dropping a couple scoops into the bowl she kept on the shelf behind the washer and dryer, then wetting it with water from the sink. The tabby watched her, blinking slow and uninterested as she worked, then yawned again when she was done.

For a few seconds, Taryn stood there with her hands on her hips, same as she always did, waiting for the cat to decide whether or not to waste the food, same as he always had.

“Heck with ya,” she said after a minute, then flipped the switch for the fan and the light over the tub. “But I ain’t leavin’ it out all night this time. You damn near put me in an early grave dumpin’ that last bowl while I was sleepin’.”

-----

Synopsis:

Taryn Monroe prefers simplicity–her place in the mountains, the predictable rhythm of her job at the mill, and the peace that comes with keeping to herself.

Every Tuesday, a woman shows up at precisely fifteen minutes to close. Taryn doesn’t know much about her–just the rumble of her truck, the way she never wastes words, and the peculiar gallon of sulfur she buys each week.

Then one Tuesday, she doesn’t show up.

Taryn tells herself to leave it alone, that it’s not her business and the woman can handle herself. But when she overhears an argument and starts asking questions, she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong–and her life becomes anything but simple.

Something wild is living in the barn at Wardenwood Hollow–something keeping the woman bound to the old Sterling Farm.

And Taryn may be her only chance to break free.

This show will go down in history as the biggest missed opportunity for the most genuine and incredible enemies to lovers WLW arc and it's been YEARS and I am STILL HEARTBROKEN.

I don't even remember if I finished the show but I do know I continued watching even after Hook came in because Lana is worth watching no matter what.

Ain't no way those motherfuckers put those bitches looking at each other like that and expected us to believe they weren't madly in love

"she didn't want anything to do with me"

"I have to say goodbye to the thing I love most"

And with those lines??

bonus points:

“Never make fun of someone’s passion because that’s the thing that saves them from the world.”

— Unknown

The misery of rare characters is being over here trying to fill some of the void but some nights I just want to read someone else's versions but then I remember I'm writing them because so few others are doing it 🫠