I feel like, there are so many headcanons of Lup and Barry finding some poor child in a necromancy trial and adopting them. I wonder if Gordy was like that, like, his birth parents were involved in some nasty business and he was actually BORN a lich, but like, one who grows up. or maybe they figured out a way to make him be able to grow up.
well, he said that his parents were afraid of his abilities, didn’t he??? so i don’t know that they were necromancers but i do think it’s possible that he could have been targeted by them for his Power and that’s how blups found him :0
personally i am extremely enthusiastic about “very frantic parents lup and barry trying to figure out how to legally allow their child to live forever” though LMAO. that planar system hopping technology must have come so far........
“I’m telling you, it’s not actually a cold,” Kravitz insisted once again, although the technicalities didn’t matter much to Taako. He just rolled his eyes, shoving the cup of hot tea into his even colder than usual hands.
“Oh yeah, what do you call this again?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“A curse,” Kravitz said, before having to quickly put the tea down on the side table so that he didn’t drop it as he fell into another fit of coughs. Hopefully that would be something the tea could help with once he actually drank it.
“Cold or curse, if it coughs like a duck and sneezes like a duck it gets cozy sick food,” Taako insisted. Kravitz chuckled at that, quickly taking a drink afterwards to fight down some more coughs. He had several large quilts pulled up around him, and Taako started untangling one to climb into the bed with him.
“I think that metaphor got away from you a little dear,” Kravitz said, shifting some to make more room for Taako. “And besides, the spell should only last a day or so,” he added.
“Cool, that’s a whole day of doing nothing. And plus side, I don’t even have to worry about catching anything from your nasty ass,” Taako said, snuggling into Kravitz’s side. He could hear a small rumbling in his chest as he laughed, and even if it was a curse Taako would bet money on the honey he’d put in the tea helping to clear that up some.
“Last I checked, you liked my ass,” Kravitz said, which got a snort out of Taako, rolling his eyes.
“Drink your fucking tea before it gets cold,” was his only response, and he could see Kravitz smiling as he took another sip.
“If you insist,” he said, and Taako nodded sharply at that. “and… thank you,” he added. Taako shifted into his side more so that Kravitz couldn’t see the downright sappy smile on his face.
“GREETINGS NEWTON FAMILY!” Minerva announced, flinging the door open.
“Honey!” Duck said, clutching his hat to catch up from where he was running up the driveway, “I told you to KNOCK!”
“I did!” Minerva said, “and the door did not open, and so I decided to help it along!” She smiled at him, outshining the sun. Or so it seemed to Duck anyway.
“You are welcome to rob us.” A girl said from the stairs, “Start with Duck’s old dolls--oh, sorry ‘’’action figures.’’’’”
Duck rolled his eyes, and pulled the girl, his sister Jane, into a half-hug, which quickly turned into more of a half-nelson. “Missed you too, Gremlin.”
“Augh!!!” she yelled, flailing like they were kids again, “Abuse! Abuse! Child abuse!”
“Oh please,” Duck said, “You’re not a kid anymore, you can’t use that excuse.”
Jane grumbled. “That’s right!” she said in challenge, “I can fight back!” Jane darted her hands out to tickle Duck’s stomach instead, getting him to let go. “Ha! Jane Newton, Still the Undefeated champion!!”
“Most impressive!” Minerva said, still standing in the doorway and somehow not looking awkward, “Wayne Newton is a most formidable warrior.”
Jane raised her eyebrows. “Wayne, huh?”
Duck scowled at his sister, “Let it go Janey.”
“I also wish to inform you, Jane Newton,” Minerva continued, “That I have no intention of robbing your house, even Wayne Newton’s action figures.”
Jane smiled, “Oh, I like this one, Ducky.”
“Nope,” Duck said, shaking his head, “we’re not doing that.”
Jane ignored him and held out her hand to Minerva, “Pleased to meet you in person, Minerva.”
Minerva beamed again. “You as well, Jane Newton. I wonder, are you what people call, ‘a hugger?’”
Duck could see three whole jokes pass through Jane’s head that she swallowed down. “Yes, I most certainly am--”
Minerva swooped Jane up into one of her classic bone-crushing hugs. Jane groaned as the air left her lungs, while Duck snickered at her pain. He’s been there, though he didn’t regret it. “Alright, honey, let her breathe.”
Minerva let Jane down, who staggered back. “Well. Damn,” Jane said, blinking at the hug.
Minerva paused, “I hope I was not too forceful, Jane Newton. I’ve learned to ask permission first, but I have been told I have trouble holding in my incredible strength.”
Jane whistled. “Oh, I’m fine. Just fine,” she said, biting her lip.
“Hey,” Duck shooed her into the house, “My girlfriend, you can’t have her. Stop it.”
Jane chuckled, walking into the hallway, and letting Duck and Minerva properly enter. Duck took off his shoes, Minerva mimicking him. “Forgive me for stalling out here. I was just trying to save you, Mom’s on the warpath, and--”
“Wayne?” they heard a call from the kitchen, “Is that you Wayne?”
Duck sighed, “Hi Mom,” he said, “Minerva’s here too.”
“Excellent, come in here and set the table!” His mother called.
Duck sighed, taking Minerva’s hand and leading her to the kitchen.
His mother was bouncing about from counter to counter, preparing at least 3 dishes at once. On sight of her son, she thrust a stack of napkins into his hands. “Good to see you too, Mom.”
She doubled back to kiss him on the cheek before dropping her phone onto the pile of napkins. “I’ve pulled up a video on how to fold them, follow it as closely as you can. Jane, check on the vegetables while I mind the turkey, and--oh goodness.” She had finally taken in Minerva. “Oh my deary, you’re much taller than you looked on Skype.”
Minerva took it in stride. “Yes, I am very tall in comparison to most hu--women.” she stopped herself from saying humans, and Duck could only hope his mother and sister overlooked it. “Some people have become intimidated, I’ve noticed, but do not fear. I am here only for peace.”
Mrs. Newton’s face lit up. “Fear? Oh goodness no, deary. You’re perfect. Can you get the platters I’ve put on the top shelf there? I don’t fully trust my step stool, it’s rather old.”
“Certainly!” Minerva said, easily reaching up to grab it.
Duck smiled, taking the napkins into the dining room. He didn’t know why he worried. He should have known his family would take to Minerva just the same as he did.
He was still folding the first napkin by the time Minerva came in with a beautifully plated asparagus, complete with drizzles of sauce. “Are you having trouble, Wayne Newton?” Minerva asked.
Duck sighed, “Sorry ‘bout my mom,” he said, “She tends to go all out, and goes a bit overboard in my opinion. I mean, this is a bit much for a simple Candlenights.”
“There is no need to apologize,” Minerva said, “I don’t really know much about your human traditions. What is Candlenights, anyway?”
“A trademark of Big Head Productions LLC,” Duck answered easily. Minerva blinked, as she did when she was trying to figure out if something was a joke or not. “Look, back when she left my dad, Mom had this huge falling out with her church, and felt...weird celebrating Christmas. So we celebrate this like, secular version that’s on this podcast she likes and connects a bunch of different holidays together. Hence the menorah,” he said, nodding at the candle that served as a centerpiece, “And the Thanksgiving turkey and New Years Eve poppers….its just a whole grab bag of winter holidays.”
Minerva nodded, “A brave thing to do, to leave a culture behind that had wronged her, and to start something fresh and new.”
Duck smiled, “‘Brave’ is a...nice way of describing mom,” he said, “She’s a character, for sure. Always liked to do things her own way. It’s funny, when I came out---” he stopped himself, reminding himself he hadn’t actually super had this conversation with his girlfriend yet. Most people already knew once they’d known him long enough, but Minerva didn’t know a lot of human culture or societal norms or...anything.
“Came out of what?” Minerva asked, the only indication of how long he had stopped talking.
Duck took a breath, and summoned her over to his mother’s picture wall. There were two that were further back than a few years ago, the first of him when he was a baby….and the second of him with Jane when she was a baby. Except he had little pigtails and a yellow dress he’d hated wearing even that far back. “So, this is me,” he pointed at the young child holding up baby Jane. “Or...was me.” She frowned at him, not understanding the significance. “Ho boy, where to start. Um, so, when I was born….people thought I was a girl,” he winced, unsure how to explain western gender standards to an alien. Minerva always referred to herself as she, but he was unsure if that was a translation thing, or if her planet had the same gender norms or what.
“Why did they think that?” Minerva asked, innocently.
“I just…” Duck said, “Sometimes...that happens. People use the markers they have available before kids are old enough to really know themselves, and then...if they got it wrong, then those people---me---are called Trans. Like, transitioning. I’m a trans man.” She nodded. “But uh. Anyway. The point is, when they do the telling, it’s called ‘coming out.’ And...some parents don’t react well to it.” He smirked, “Not Mom though. She was ready to go toe-to-toe to anyone who gave me trouble about it. Gave me the name ‘Wayne’ too….that was quite the ordeal.”
He frowned, but wasn’t seriously annoyed at the memories of Mrs. Newton being fine with helping to change the gender marker on his ID, but refusing to let him legally change his name to ‘Duck.’ in fairness, he was happy with just having Duck be a nickname now. Wayne Newton was something he and his mother bonded over, so it worked out well, a symbol for just the family.
“Then she is an honorable woman,” Minerva said, getting Duck to smile wider, “and a worthy commander, I must go and help with preparing more dishes to be served. Are you sure you don’t need help with the napkins?”
Duck sighed, mood souring as he turned back to the cloth that refused to fold like in the video. “Give me one more chance before I call it forfeit,” he said. She frowned again, trying to figure out if it was a joke. “I’ll be fine,” he told her, quickly jumping to his toes to kiss her on the cheek, “Go help, before she declares you AWOL.”
Minerva smiled, recognizing that one for a joke. She gave a salute, “Yes, sir!” she said, before marching back into the kitchen.
Duck smiled, watching after her. He gave one last look to the photo on the wall, the only one of him pre-social transition his mom kept up. Even that had come with a long discussion, but Duck wasn’t ashamed of being trans, and besides, the first pictures of Baby Jane were important.
As he heard footsteps, though, he turned his attention back to the napkins. How in the hell was he supposed to just make it look like a swan?!
like... literally the first time they interacted with each other... the shoulder rub... bashir playing with the flower on the table... the subtext is through the roof
(and then, or course, there’s The Wire, aka the official hurt/comfort fic)
my thoughts:
GOD these two are so good together... we were robbed
What makes me happy about them:
OKAY SO. their dialogue and interactions are genuinely entertaining, and they both have the intelligence/competence to keep up with one another. also while it’s clear Bashir is intrigued by Garak and his mysteries, i think Bashir in turn intrigues Garak (especially after the whole. augment thing.)
(also... if Garak had to expose his vulnerabilities to someone, Bashir is his first choice -- like, he asked Bashir to be there when his asshole father was dying...)
What makes me sad about them:
that the producers chickened out and gave them female love interests that barely made sense, after which they barely interacted with one another
(Garak’s romantic relationship with Ziyal made me a bit uncomfy... she’s Jake’s contemporary, so like early 20s at most? it’s kinda creepy since Garak is her father’s contemporary and their interaction had a mentor/mentee vibe before the romos)
(also, i still think Ziyal/Jake has SO Much potential?? Sisko and Dukat sitting through the most awkward dinners together... god)
things done in art/fic that annoys me:
reducing Bashir to just the “innocent being seduced” -- while he is idealistic and naive, Bashir can get ruthless when push comes to shove, and he’s stubborn as heck (also this is a dude who hid his illegal augment status for like. most of his life. dude’s canny and good at hiding things about himself.)
things I look for in art/fic:
Specific: post-series “Bashir goes to Cardassia as part of the relief effort and the two finally get on the same heckin’ page regarding their relationship”
In general: Garak trying to be inscrutable while thinking Bashir is an open book and Bashir surprising him
Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:
uhhhhhhhhhhh
My happily ever after for them:
Bashir and Garak having a wonderful retirement after rebuilding war-torn Cardassia and having a hand in shaping post-war society and culture... just. old married husbands who have accomplished many things together
Neither Pidge nor Keith had ever been to a slumber party before Voltron. Lance was horrified to learn this and sought to rectify the situation immediately
Claire & Notenrique "Get your hands off my stuff!"
Well this took forever for me to get to. Oops. Takes place during Season 1.
Read on FFN
Claire loved her brother, but the green-skinned monster (“changeling,” she inwardly corrected) was not her brother. For example, Claire wouldn’t walk into her room and find her brother digging through her hamper of dirty laundry.
“Get your hands off my stuff!” she called out, thankful that her parents weren’t home.
NotEnrique didn’t listen to her. Instead, he sniffed at one of her socks. Claire ran up to him and snatched it out of his hands while picking him up by his scruff with the other.
“Hey! Hey! Not the scruff! Besides, a troll’s gotta eat!” he protested. She threw him towards the hallway.
“You have formula and plenty of other food to eat! You know, food that my baby brother would be eating but you’re eating instead!” she yelled before slamming the door as tears sprouted in the corners of her eyes.
Claire loved her brother, and she hoped that Jim would go and rescue him soon. It had been nearly a month since he had promised to, after all.
Tell me about a time you used the sheer force of willpower to overcome something.
It was the day of the Homecoming dance. I had waited just mere hours til I had to leave for the dance to attempt to teach myself to tie a bow tie. Me and my mother must have watched this YouTube video on it a dozen times. But through sheer force of will I got it. For a while the only tie I could tie was a bow tie. Here’s a tip. You tie a bow tie almost exactly like you would tie your shoelaces. It took years for me to realize that.
