Fangirl, writer, feminist. Currently between fandoms. Not a tinhat. Also found here: feminism, inspiration, puns and other jokes. Anon asks are generally on. She/her. Trans women are women; TERFs will be blocked. Elsewhere: Bluesky: @rsadelle AO3: rsadelle DW: rsadelle
Last year, I befriended a Catholic seminarian. We've gotten to be pretty decent friends. Seeing as he was staying in town for the summer and I wasn't, I entrusted him with caring for my plant.
He did a wonderful job, but as he was returning my plant to my custody, he explained "I watered her every other day, I gave her new dirt, moved her into the sunshine, prayed the rosary-"
"What?"
He looked at me, confused. "Isn't she a plant you pray with?"
"No," I said slowly. "She's a prayer plant. That's the... colloquial name of the plant."
Upon seeing his stricken face, I realized something went wrong. Turns out, this entire time, he's been including my plant in on his prayers and leaving her near icons.
Listen, totally cool. My plant becoming Catholic is a great deal for her not dying over the summer. But now I must navigate this interfaith household. Keep me in your thoughts.
I don't know if WIP amnesty is still a thing, but I'm doing it anyway.
This was supposed to be case fic with flashbacks, but I only wrote part of the beginning, part of the end, and bits of the flashbacks. It takes place after "Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark."
The setup I didn't write is that Shawn shows up at the station saying that Lassie is missing. Everyone else is like, it's just his day off, and offering up places he could be and Shawn saying why that's not it. (Like: "Maybe he went fishing." "No, all his fishing gear is still there.")
And then when someone asks why he's so sure Lassie's not just away for the day:
"He wasn't answering my calls," Shawn said.
"Shawn," his dad said, "did it occur to you that maybe he just doesn't want to talk to you?"
"No," Shawn said. "He always picks up when I call. Always. He picks up at three thirty-seven in the morning, when he's fishing, when he's at the range. He picked up once when he was having sex."
"Mr. Spencer," Chief Vick said, "I'm not sure we needed that much detail. That said, he isn't answering Detective O'Hara or me either."
Shawn looked to his dad. "I'm going to work it anyway."
"Fine, you're hired."
[There would be some other investigative things here.]
"I've got his phone records." Juliet brought in a stack of paper. "He really does talk to you a lot."
"I told you," Shawn said. He crowded in close to look over her shoulder. There was his number, Jules's, the Chief, three take-out places, the range.
[And then there would be a whole investigation, with flashbacks interspersed.]
*
Carlton grabbed for his phone. "Lassiter." He sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.
"Hey, Lassie, how's it going?"
Carlton looked at the glowing red numbers on his alarm clock. "Spencer, it is three thirty-seven in the morning. Someone better be dead."
"Well," Spencer said, drawing the single syllable out.
"Spencer," Carlton said sharply.
There was a silence just long enough that Carlton nearly pulled the phone away from his ear to check if they were still connected.
"You ever been shot, Lassie?" There wasn't anything playful about it, just a quiet, sincere question.
"Yes," Carlton said. He settled in more comfortably. "Nightmares aren't unusual."
"Yeah," Spencer said.
Carlton sighed. "Therapy can help. The department should pay for it."
Spencer made a noncommittal noise.
"You need to sleep for your shoulder to heal."
"He wasn't trying to kill me," Spencer said.
Carlton had read MacQuarrie's record. "I know. We got Rollins and we'll put him away. That's all we can do."
Spencer made another acknowledging noise. "I bet if you talked about your dress-up games," Spencer said after a moment of silence, "you could bore me back to sleep." There was lightness in it, but it sounded forced.
"Remember you asked for it, so no complaining," Carlton warned. Then he talked, keeping his voice even and going deep into the details. When he asked, "Spencer?" ten minutes later and got no response, he hung up the phone, turned off the light, and settled down with a slight smile on his face.
*
The ringing of his phone startled Carlton enough that his line wobbled. He swore, and answered.
"Lassie!"
"Spencer, it is my day off. I am fishing. Unless someone is dead." Carlton let the threat hang there.
"Only the fish you're killing," Spencer says. "Can I come over and have some later?"
"No. Goodbye Spencer." Carlton snapped his phone shut, reeled in his line, and cast again.
*
Carlton groaned, and it wasn't because of what he was doing. Her name was Anna, they'd had a very nice dinner earlier, and they were having a very good time now.
"I have to-" Carlton reached over to the bedside table for his ringing phone.
Anna let out a little moan as he moved. "Now?"
Carlton looked at the caller ID and rubbed one hand over Anna's hip as he answered. "Spencer, this better be good."
There was a pause, and then Spencer, sounding amused, said, "It's not that much of an emergency, Lassie. Enjoy your evening." He hung up first, allowing Carlton to toss his phone back on the nightstand and pick up where he'd left off with Anna.
*
Carlton's phone lit up. He put his weapon down, tipped the hearing protection off one ear. "Lassiter."
"Hey, Lassie. Do you think raspberry or blackberry is the superior flavor?" The words were Spencer's usual variety of nonsense, but there was something wrong with his voice.
"Spencer, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," Spencer said unconvincingly.
Carlton eyed his gun. "Are you in danger right now?"
"No," Spencer said, and that sounded like the truth. "Unless danger is not knowing your opinions on raspberry and blackberry."
Carlton took off his hearing protection and set it down. This was going to take a while. "Shawn."
Spencer went silent. It wasn't a good silence.
"What's going on?" Carlton asked it as gently as he could.
There was a pause, and then a forced cheerfulness. "How 'bout you, Carly? Hitting bulls-eyes?"
"Center mass," Carlton answered.
"Your love of guns disturbs me," Spencer said, but he sounded genuinely amused now.
"My love of guns is perfectly natural."
"Just like my nightmares," Spencer said, a joke that wasn't a joke.
"Are you sleeping at all?"
"How could I," Spencer said, "when you're not telling me about your dress-up fun?"
Carlton ignored that and cut straight to the heart of the issue. "Shawn, talk to a counselor."
[And then there's more of this conversation here.]
"Going to keep all of Santa Barbara safe?"
"Yes," Carlton said. "And you keep getting yourself kidnapped."
"It's not on purpose!" That sounded more like Spencer, but then after a moment he said, "Going to keep saving me?" subdued again.
"I would like you to stop getting kidnapped," Carlton said. "But if you do, yes, I will."
*
[And then this part is from when they find Lassie.]
"How did you find me so quickly?" Lassiter asked. "I didn't think you would even know I was missing yet."
"It was all Shawn," Juliet told him. "He said you were missing and convinced us to look into it."
Lassiter looked to Shawn.
Shawn raised his hand to his head. "The spirits-"
Lassiter cut him off with a sharp, "Spencer."
Shawn dropped his hand and shrugged. "I called. You didn't pick up."
Lassiter's face did something, and his body loosened up.
Shawn leaned in, resting his face on Lassiter's shoulder, and Lassiter put an arm around him while he breathed for a minute.
shawn's deep trust of lassiter keeps catching me so off-guard like when he's held captive and lassie and henry both turn up he tries to yell "carlton" not "dad" and when he sees a guy with a gun come into the restaurant he goes straight for lassie and keeps trying to get his attention instead of literally any of the other dozens of cops in the room with them and when he's telling someone to call the police he tells them to ask for lassiter, not jules, not vick, lassiter. like he spends all his time provoking lassie but the second there's danger there's literally no one else he trusts more
I'm trying to relearn how to be in a fandom, so I am doing WIP Wednesday, with the caveat that I may never finish this. The context for this is future fic where Jasper lives at home and is doing some sort of higher education (I haven't figured that part out yet - maybe he took a gap year and then went to uni, or maybe he's doing a PhD program and Carl is stuck with two PhD students in his house).
The morning is chaos, and Carl has never been so glad to arrive at his office in the basement.
"Nice of you to join us," Hardy says.
"I had to do the school run." Carl drops the case file onto his desk and himself into his chair.
"Isn't Jasper a little old for that?" Rose asks.
"Not Jasper," Carl says, "Ruby."
Rose blinks at him and Hardy's eyebrows go all the way up.
"Your ex-wife asked you to take her daughter to school?" Akram asks.
"Oh no," Carl puts his forearms on his desk and leans on them. "My ex-wife took an international flight and left her daughter with her mum. Jasper rescued her from that torture and brought her home. He had a lecture this morning." Carl spreads his hands out. "Therefore, school run."
There are things Hardy can't do in bed after the Leith Park, but Carl can. I would read just your regular Donna/Hardy/Carl threesome, but would be very into fic where Hardy is bossing Carl around and basically using him to have sex with Donna.
Carl/Akram d/s-y fic where Akram is very much in control, and also unfailingly physically gentle with Carl. It flays Carl to the bone, but it's also what Akram needs.
Carl has never been one for a lot of casual touching, but after Leith Park and the hospital, he really doesn't like being touched. I would read a slow burn Akram slowly getting him used to being touched fic. I would also read Akram telling him exactly how to use a dildo on himself while Akram watches. (Um, A Gentleman Never Keeps Score is my favorite Cat Sebastian book.)
There's fic somewhere (I read a lot without paying attention to titles or authors, so apologies for the lack of specificity) where when Carl comes out to Jasper, Jasper says something like, "You never bring people home," and Carl says, "I brought Martin home and he never left." I would read fic where Martin was a hookup, and then in the afterglow (or between rounds), Martin talks about how he needs a new place to live and that's how he ends up living there. And then they still hook up occasionally, but surely it can't become a real relationship (it can) because obviously Martin doesn't want that with Carl (he does).
All of the above!!! Thank you so much for these ideas!!
Akram instructing Carl from afar (1) is an idea that doesn't want to leave me alone either (please someone write it T_T) and (2) can be greatly improved, at least for the "smoking is bad but also very hot" community, by Akram smoking while watching (like... come on). So if anyone wants to write... <3
For people who would be interested, Martin as hookup who never left (i'm still laughing XD) comes from the very good the scent of bergamot from @imgoingtofreakoutnow (hi you!).
Thank you for yes anding! And for the specific link.
I'm also enjoying these tags from @fanfictiongreenirises: #obsessed w that donna/hardy/carl situation. fulfils everyone's need to be useful to each other
There are things Hardy can't do in bed after the Leith Park, but Carl can. I would read just your regular Donna/Hardy/Carl threesome, but would be very into fic where Hardy is bossing Carl around and basically using him to have sex with Donna.
Carl/Akram d/s-y fic where Akram is very much in control, and also unfailingly physically gentle with Carl. It flays Carl to the bone, but it's also what Akram needs.
Carl has never been one for a lot of casual touching, but after Leith Park and the hospital, he really doesn't like being touched. I would read a slow burn Akram slowly getting him used to being touched fic. I would also read Akram telling him exactly how to use a dildo on himself while Akram watches. (Um, A Gentleman Never Keeps Score is my favorite Cat Sebastian book.)
There's fic somewhere (I read a lot without paying attention to titles or authors, so apologies for the lack of specificity) where when Carl comes out to Jasper, Jasper says something like, "You never bring people home," and Carl says, "I brought Martin home and he never left." I would read fic where Martin was a hookup, and then in the afterglow (or between rounds), Martin talks about how he needs a new place to live and that's how he ends up living there. And then they still hook up occasionally, but surely it can't become a real relationship (it can) because obviously Martin doesn't want that with Carl (he does).
in "a stitch in time" garak mentions that bashir prescribed him Special medication for his mental issues which is tailored to his specific brain chemistry and is made specially by bashir Just For Him. but i like to think that bashir literally just put garak on prozac but told him that it was Special Garak Meds just so he would take it. it's literally just prozac though.
it's like trying to get a dog to eat a pill by wrapping it in cheese. but garak is the dog and the cheese is his ego
I started watching Law & Order from the beginning with the idea that it would be a solid formulaic show to half-watch but not something I would be fannish about and get distracted from my Summer of Scottish Detectivesâ„¢. By the time I was five episodes in, I wanted Ben Stone to get railed. However, he's a Catholic, albeit a divorced one, and I don't know that you could just casually be a queer Catholic in the early 90s. But then yesterday I watched an Olivet episode ("Star Struck," 2x12), and I would absolutely be into Ben getting pegged by Olivet. (Sidenote from an Old for anyone who might think about writing this: the term "pegging" didn't exist then, and they wouldn't call it that.) She can explain the psychology of why he's into it, and he can say, "Please don't psychoanalyze me while we're having sex."
ziyal survives the war -> is unofficially adopted by both garak and kira separately (Very Separately.) -> asks to spend time on cardassia during the reconstruction -> kira comes along because it’s a disaster out there and she’s not letting ziyal go by herself -> comedy of errors where kira keeps getting mistaken for garak’s quite young wife (but what a lovely daughter you have together! she looks so much like you! divorced, you say? what a shame…) -> kira’s head explodes. the end
This should be how they GET together. Julian gets accused of being a homewrecker despite the fact that he and Garak are only friends -> gets so upset in a crowded restaurant that he very loudly says that he's sorry he ruined Garak's fake marriage and that maybe he should leave and they shouldn't be together -> Garak (who finds it hilarious) fake-sniffs and says that Julian's words would be more effective if they ever were together to begin with -> Julian goes quiet and sits back down, "umm... would you... would you like us to be together?" -> Garak scores a boyfriend
Flawless romcom plotting, no notes, though I suspect Garak wouldn't be able to resist, "Well, I don't know, Doctor - Nerys and I have been talking about couple's counselling--"
How was the opera? Was it good? Hope there were no disastrous chandeliers crashing
Okay but actually can you imagine being a guy in the audience at the opera house, and then an evil ghost interrupts the show and kills someone? There is a crowd full of people who will never have the context to understand what the fuck happened. You’re like visiting relatives from out of town, so obviously you go to the theater, and there’s this new musical showing you’ve never heard of, and then during one of the first numbers, the lead actress gets kidnapped on stage mid-song.
Like imagine if you were attending a touring performance of Shrek The Musical, and you find out halfway through it’s a failed sting operation to catch a serial killer who appears on stage disguised as Shrek. Do you think you can get your ticket refunded
Now that's good but I remember correctly that's not how it goes down so let me correct this to the best of my half-remembered ability.
You AREN'T seeing Shrek, you're seeing Shronk: Some Guy's Shrek Fanfiction Opera. You meet up with one of the producers and they say that yeah it was written by a serial killer who lives in the sewers but his music is SUPER good so we're doing it. Then halfway through Shronk is switched out for another actor and it's the serial killer but the wild thing is he sings BETTER than the first guy? And it's clearly a different guy but they're just going for it but then the operation goes off and he kidnaps the lead actress and everyone runs away and now you're pissed because you were kind of invested in the story of Shronk but because this was a world première show written by a guy who was just chased off stage giggling like a giddy schoolgirl you'll never know how it ends.
