Okay, I was just thinking about the show Voltron and I thought of this AU-
What if Voltron wasn’t real? What if none of the war and aliens were real? What if the five paladin were just a bunch of little kids playing in the street?
They all live on the same block and play Voltron together after everyone has eaten lunch. Their ages vary from 5-9.
Matt and Katie were playing with Hunk and Lance, but then their father (Sam) came out and took Matt because they were going on a father-son camping trip for a few days.
After that, Katie decided she didn’t want to be herself in the game so she made up a character named Pidge who was a boy.
Keith came out to play soon afterward, (he and Lance don’t get along because Keith is better at riding his bike, and always wins their races, and his hair is stupid, so there you go)
Lance tried to make Keith go away, but then big brother Takashi came out and calmed everyone down. Unfortunately for the teenage Takashi the little kids wanted him to stay and play. So he did; making up his own character Shiro who was the leader of the group.
Voltron was a mixture of imagination from the kids. Lance wanted it to be lions (his favorite animal), while Pidge wanted them to have lasers and different weapons, Keith wanted them to fly and insisted he could talk to his lion, and Hunk wanted them to be colorful and connect with each other. And thus Voltron, the Defender Of The Universe was born.
Allura and her cousin Coran (who were new to the neighborhood) came out to meet the other kids and hit it off. Though they were both more around Shiro’s age they still didn’t mind playing with a bunch of little kids.
Allura said that she was a princess and that Coran was her servant. (She had to repress laughter as she watched her cousin’s face at that) She then said he had a twirly mustache, and before Coran could refuse the kids all started jumping up and down yelling about how awesome that was…And then Allura pulled out a pen and drew it on his face…(Coran is going to hurt her later, and also where was she keeping that pen?!)
Soon Lance’s siblings wanted to play too, but Lance insisted that there could be no other paladins. So his six other siblings came up with an alien race called the Galra, who were set on stealing Voltron (the other kid’s bikes) so they could rule the universe!
They also found water guns and water balloons to attack Voltron with. (take that Lance!)
But Allura and Coran helped hide Voltron in their castle (their minivan) so that the Galra couldn’t get to it.
Later on, Katie decided she wanted to be a girl again, but she still wanted to be Pidge.
Keith thought that the Galra were pretty cool, so he decided he was half Galra, but he would be staying with team Voltron.
Shiro was captured by the Galra (one of Lance’s big brothers, who was pretty good friends with Takashi) and he was then tortured (tickled) and scarred (one of Lance’s little sisters drew on his nose with a marker) leaving him traumatized (giggling)
The Galra were able to steal Keith’s loin (his red bike) but the kids were able to get it back. And thus the fight for peace and justice ensued…
Hunk’s mom made lime jello and all the kids took a break to eat it, naming it food goo…(Hunk’s mom wasn’t very keen on the name)
At the end of the day, all the kids (team Voltron, and the Galra) would put aside their differences and lay down in the grass and look up at the stars, saying goodnight when their parents came out to get them, and promising to play Volton again tomorrow.
I want a fanfic involving Alfred taking Tim in a road trip. I really do.
I want Alfred to notice how much stress is on Tim’s young shoulders and how much he’s in desperate need of some recreation, and when Tim one day let it slip that he always wanted to go to one of those long cliche father-son road-trips that you always see on the movies, Alfred immediately go and demands that Bruce take Tim to one of them, so that both Tim and him would get the rest they need, but once Bruce pulls the “Eh, sure just after today’s meeting at the company…and the other meeting the next day…and the patrol the next next day it’s very important….matter of fact the whole month’s patrols will be important. You know what, I think Tim will understand if we don’t do it?” Alfred just knew that he would be completely useless in this department, and even if he made time for it, Alfred would highly doubt that Bruce would be an enjoyable companion that would help both Tim and himself to relax and forget about work.
So naturally Alfred would put on his cargo short and Hawaiian shirt and pull his good old Ford out of the garage and honks infront of Tim’s room when no one else is in the house, to tell him to bring what ever he needed in a small suitcase and come down so that he can steal him for a while. Or in Alfred’s own words: “I’m afraid master Tim that I would be stealing you from master Bruce for this month in order to roam some of the US most touristy spots. Don’t worry, master Bruce has some ‘important’ patrols scheduled for the whole month, so he wouldn’t notice us being gone.”
I can't believe Thor's been part of the MCU for years and no one's written the Bayreuth Festival fic where Thor sits down to watch Das Rheingold and spends the whole time grinning because the opera is basically "Loki and Odin go on an adventure together" and that's his /brother/ it's a whole masterwork people pay good money to come see and it's all about how clever his brother is.
I do love this, in spite of my reservations about Wagner in general given his, uh…virulent antisemitism.
But actually it’s funny you should send this because @portraitoftheoddity was just talking to me about an AU where at the end of Thor 2 when Loki goes back to Asgard post-not!death Odin’s like “YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK THIS, YOU’RE COMING WITH ME” and ends up dragging Loki on the worst/best father-son road trip ever and they bond over conning people for all they’re worth, because Odin in his youth was totally more of a Loki than a Thor and got up to all kinds of shit (as he does in mythology) and it’s actually…the best their relationship has been in years, and they both discover that they actually make a really good duo of grifters
and this is an AU that I now desperately want because awkward family roadtrips and Odin and Loki shenanigans and the first time they successfully pull a con and are driving off laughing and then realize what’s happening and like. it gets super weird
(but you know what, it was fun)
p.s. don’t give me credit for this great idea, it’s totally @portraitoftheoddity‘s this just came up in my inbox and it felt like kismet
Thank you for the wonderful prompt. Fluffiness and comfort and all those good things are ahead. Also I live in Australia so I am not quite sure how the whole snowed in thing works so anyway here we go. It turned into a long one, so I have put in the dreaded ‘Keep Reading’ break so apolgies to the mobile users that have the story cut off.
Also @believe-that-you-can-my-friend you are one of my fave Bughead fanfiction writers so to have you trust me with one of your prompts is a big thing. Hope you enjoy.
“This snow.” Betty exclaimed looking out the window at the thick blanket of snow that was now covering most of the town. They were effectively housebound, as vehicles could not get through the heavy snow and the snow ploughs were only maintaining main roads due to the overwhelming need. She was just glad that Jughead was with her. They were both keeping Polly company after her returning from her brief stay at the Blossoms and the craziness that had ensued there. Polly was relaxing on the couch, resting, so big now that the smallest task seemed insurmountable. She had the week before felt so full of energy flitting around the spare room that had now become a nursery ready for the arrival of the twins. Betty was so happy to have her sister back home, spending the long weekend with her two favourite people while her mum and dad went to a ‘marriage’ retreat seemed like a good time to her.
That was before she had heard a shriek from Polly on the couch. Exclaiming that she had felt something before she had looked at her hand in horror at the wetness that was there, that had seeped through her clothes.
“Betty, I need you.” She had screamed from the couch. Betty had been at her side within seconds. Jughead had rushed in from the kitchen where he had been fixing some snacks, which for Jughead usually meant a 10 course meal. There was panic on her sister’s face which went straight to the pit of her own stomach. Her waters had broken there was no doubt about that, the scream that tore from her lips as she was hit by a contraction made Betty flinch and she could feel her anxiety rising.
“Oh god.” Betty was feeling queasy and her nails were digging into her palms as she tried to take in deep and calming breaths. Jughead could see the terror on her face and knew that he needed to step up and take control of this situation even if it was terrifying him. She had her phone to her ear before throwing it at the wall. “They said they can’t be disturbed, it’s bullshit.” She was frantically pacing around the room.
“Betty, look at me.” He grasped his hands in his own, forcing her to look him in the eyes. His mind was racing, the Andrews were gone they were at a father son bonding trip when the snow had hit. There was only one person he could think of who may be able to help them. “I need you to phone my mum. Okay. She can help. She helped my cousin deliver her baby.” She nodded eagerly, he felt the wetness of fresh blood on his own hands, and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers gently. “It’s going to be okay.” He told her not quite believing the words himself.
“Yeah, Yeah.” She was nodding emphatically, as if if she nodded enough she would start to believe it herself. But she was still in the same spot unmoving.
“The phone Betty.” Jughead reminded her breaking her out of her repetitive thoughts. She seemed to hear him and went to grab his phone. He looked back to Polly who was laying on the couch breathing carefully, seemingly the calmest out of all three of them. He went to her side.
“Polly.” He said gently. “We are not going to be able to get help in here. The roads are closed. We are just going to have to do this ourselves.” He could feel her eyes watching his lips intently hearing each word and processing. “Betty is going to call my mum, she has done this before, she can help.” Polly nodded at him, turning to face the other side of the loungeroom wall as she took in a deep breath. She focused on her breathing, in and out, just like the classes, she reminded herself.
“Juggie.” Betty re-entered the room. The phone by her side. “She didn’t answer, I couldn’t get through. I left a message, but.” Betty’s voice trailed off as she looked at Polly whose eyes were watching her carefully.
“I wanna go home,” six-year-old Hiccup whined as he plopped onto his father’s lap. Stoick had insisted that they take a father and son camping trip with Spitelout and Snotlout, and little Hiccup was completely unamused by the idea.
“Don’t say that, son. Sleeping under the stars is a lot better than sleeping under a roof. Now why don’t you go play with Snotlout?”
“I don’t wanna.” Hiccup hugged Stoick as far as his tiny arms could reach.
“Come on, Hiccup! Race me!” Snotlout urged, running towards a tree.
“Go play, boy-o,” Spitelout echoed. “I didn’t bring Snotlout all the way here to run around by himself.”
Hiccup shook his head.
“Well, if you’re not gonna play, then you can help me gather wood for the campfire,” said Stoick.
“Okay!” Hiccup perked up at the prospect of being useful. “I’ll try to get big ones!” He ran to the edge of the clearing and attempted to drag a large log over to Stoick.
“Why, that log’s almost as big as you,” Stoick laughed, making his way over to Hiccup. “Here, I’ll help you.”
“No, I wanna do it by myself.”
“Sometimes, you need to work as a team, son. I’m helping you.”
Reluctantly, Hiccup let Stoick take one end of the log. Soon, between the two of them, a campfire was constructed.
“Daddy, why are fires hot?” Hiccup asked as he held a mutton leg over the flames.
“That’s just the way they work, Hiccup.”
“Well, why do they cook food?”
“Stop asking stupid questions,” Snotlout cut in.
Being the sensitive little Viking that he was, Hiccup burst into tears and, abandoning his mutton leg, crawled into Stoick’s lap.
“You know, you take after your mother with this crying,” Stoick remarked. “I’m gonna have to teach you to be more Viking-like.”
“Good luck with that,” laughed Spitelout. “Looks like I better start training Snotlout how to get Chief.”
Stoick cast Spitelout a glare. “He’ll learn. And one day he’ll be a great Chief. But today just isn’t the day for me to teach him. Today is the day to let him be my little son.”
This has probably been said a million times but I REALLY LOVE BRUCE WAYNE BEING A DAD ok like young Dick took and tumble and hit his head? Bruce is there to pick him up and comfort him. Jason is feeling antsy and out-of-place? Bruce takes him on a father/son trip and they go have fun for the weekend. Tim is sick? Bruce sits near him on the bed and reads Tim’s favorite books out loud as Tim snuggles against him. Damian feeling frustrated because sometimes no one seems to understand? Bruce is there to let him know that he’s not alone (and then buys him a new katana or something and spars with him probably) I JUST REALLY LOVE BRUCE INTERACTING WITH HIS LITTLE BIRDS OK.
A/N: not sure if I like the title for this but oh well :) also please tell me if you like this one or not, I just kinda got an idea and went with it so I would really appreciate some feedback, like please tell me if it’s too cheesy or whatnot.
The rain pounds against your house as you try - and fail - to do the algebra homework sitting front of you.
You jump a bit when your phone rings, chuckling lightly at yourself as you look at the caller id.
Confused, you pick up your phone and answer the call, holding the phone up to your ear.
“What’s up Jug?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.
“Are your parents home?” He asks, you can hear the rain in the background.
“What?” You ask, pushing some hair behind your ear. “No, my mom’s away on business and my dad’s at that father-son trip with my brother, why?”
“Can you open the door?”
You jump off of your bed, walking over to your window and pull the curtain to the side.
“What the…” you murmur, looking down to your front yard, “Jughead are you outside?”
“Yeah I um…” you can barely see him, but you think he looks up at the window, “can you just…can I come in?”
“Oh god, yeah of course,” you say, racing down the stairs and unlocking the front door, swinging it open to reveal Jughead standing on the porch in the pouring rain.
“Juggie, what the hell are you doing, it’s pouring outside,” you shake your head, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.
You didn’t notice it until he turns around, the bruise under his eye and his split lip causing you to let out a gasp.
“Jug what…god what happened?” You ask, taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen.
Jughead groans softly as he pushes himself up onto the counter while you dig around the cabinet for the first aid kit.
“I uh…” he stops, eyes darting around the kitchen, “I…fell?”
You stop in front of him, setting the kit on the counter and staring at him.
“Don’t lie to me Jones,” you say, “what happened?”
“Got into a fight,” Jughead mumbles, picking at the sleeve of his jumper, “it was stupid.”
“A fight?” You ask, eyes widening slightly, “Jughead what ar-”
“It was Reggie, okay?” Jughead finally admits, wincing as you touch his eye. “It was stupid.”
You stand between his legs, pouring some hydrogen peroxide on a cloth as he speaks.
“It doesn’t seem like it’s stupid,” you say, sighing, “god Juggie what were you thinking.”
Jughead shrugs, picking at his jumper again as you gently press the cloth to his lip.
“Jug, you can’t do that,” you say, shaking your head, “you can’t entice people about stupid things, especially Reggie. You know he has issues, he can’t keep his temper. He doesn’t think about what he says, he just wants to get a reaction out of you.”
“Yeah well…he got one,” Jughead grumbles, shivering slightly in his wet clothes.
You put the cloth down, shaking your head again.
“Let’s get you dry,” you say softly, “I think I still have some of your sweats from last time. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
You climb the stairs to your room, dialing Archie’s phone number as you did.
“Y/N?” He asks, “care to explain why you’re calling me at two am on a school night?”
“Jughead’s here,” you say, rummaging through your drawers, “he got in a fight with Reggie.”
“Again?” Archie groans, you stand up straight.
“What do you mean again?” You ask, gripping the phone tighter.
“Obviously not,” you spit, “Archie, what the hell is going on?”
“I can’t tell you, Jughead has to,” he says, “just…just talk to him. This isn’t something I can tell you.”
“Archie,” you sigh, “don’t be difficult.”
“I’m not being difficult, Y/N,” Archie says, “I’m serious. You need to talk to him. It has to come from him.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a few seconds before letting it out.
“Okay, okay fine,” you say, shaking your head, “I’ll…I’ll talk to Juggie.”
“Good, it’s about time,” Archie replies.
“God you really don’t make anything easy do you?”
You finally find Jughead’s sweats, going back down the stairs and walking into the kitchen to see him standing up with his shirt off.
“Here,” you say, handing the clothing item to him, “get dry, you’ll feel better.”
Jughead smiles slightly, taking the sweats and heading into the downstairs bathroom and leaving you in silence.
You sigh, grabbing a few plastic bags out of a cabinet and filling them with ice.
“Hey um…” you turn around, jumping slightly as Jughead reappears in the kitchen, “thanks for uh…for helping me.”
“Course Jug,” you say, shaking your head, “what was I supposed to do, leave you outside to drown?”
Jughead laughs a bit, walking into the light and setting his wet clothes on the edge of the sink. You notice then that he’s even taken off his beanie, his dark hair falling over his face.
“Oh Juggie,” you sigh, looking at the bruises already starting to form of his chest.
Jughead looks down at his torso, shrugging a bit.
“Yeah uh…” he shrugs again, looking back up at you, “it was worth it.”
You hand him a bag of ice, keeping the other one in your hand as you walk him over to the couch. You sit down next to him, frowning a bit when he groans.
“Put that on your eye,” you say, pressing the other ice pack to a budding bruise on his collar bone.
Jughead does as you say, and the two of you sit in silence for a few minutes until you speak again.
“Care to tell me what it was that got you all riled up?” You ask gently.
“It was nothing, it was st-”
“Stupid, yeah, so you keep saying,” you say, “a lot of things in this world are stupid, Jug, but this is the first time you’ve ever escalated like this,” you lie.
Jughead takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds before answering.
“It’s not…actually. It’s not the first time,”
His eyes lock on your face, waiting for the surprise to register.
“Yeah, I know,” you say, moving his hand back up to press the ice to his face, “I called Archie when I went to look for your sweats.”
He sighs, nodding his head a bit.
“So he told you then?”
“He told me this wasn’t your first fight,” you reply, moving the ice bag to a different spot, “how many times?” You ask.
“I dunno like five…maybe six,” Jughead mumbles, wincing a bit when you press the ice pack against a sore spot, “I’m not really sure.”
“It’s just…it’s Reggie, ya know, he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth,” Jughead lifts his shoulder up in a shrug, “he says things, he tries to get a reaction from me and eventually he does.”’
“Things?” You ask, “Jug, help me out here, I’m trying to understand.”
“He talks crap about you, okay,” Jughead finally says, dropping his hands into his lap, “he sits there and throws insults about me and about you and every once in a while I snap.”
“About…about me?” You ask, lowering your hands as well, “why?”
“Because he…he knows how to get to me,” Jughead says, “he wants to get a reaction and he know how to do it.”
“Jug, that’s sweet and all but I don’t need you to fight my battles,” you say, “if Reggie’s insulting me I can take care of it myself.”
“No I know, of course you can,” he sighs, closing his eyes and collecting this thoughts, “of course you can, I didn’t mean to imply that you can’t. I just…when you’re not there, when it’s just me in the booth and he comes up and starts saying those things it makes my blood boil. I just…I dunno, I guess I feel the need to…protect you.”
“What does…what does he say?”
“Y/N I really do-”
“No, Juggie,” you shake your head, “if this has happened that many times I think I should know what he’s saying.”
Jughead lets out a shaky breath, pushing his hair back from his face.
“He says you’re easy,” he whispers, locking eyes with you, “he says that you’ve done more with the entire team than any girl in Riverdale. That stupid playbook we found? He said that we should’ve looked at it before we burned it, because your name filled up six pages.”
“Jughead you…you know none of that stuff is true,” you say, touching his arm lightly, “you know he’s just making it up.”
“But that’s not it he just…he keeps at it you know?” He sighs. “He says that you’re only friends with me because you want to use me, that you just want to have me around to be interesting. That you’re not really my friend, that you don’t really care about me.”
“Juggie you can’t tell me that you actually believe him.”
Jughead sighs again, lowering his gaze.
“I wish I didn’t,” he whispers, “but he…the way he was talking it sounded…it sounded real, sounded like he knew what he was talking about, sounded like he was quoting you. I got…I got mad. I guess I’m just scared that he’s right. I didn’t know how to react besides punching him in his stupid face.”
“And this has happened six times?” You ask, swallowing roughly.
“Yeah he just keeps at it,” Jughead explains, “making up rumors…bringing up things about you and me and I just…I lose it.”
“Juggie I care about you more than anyone,” you say, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “you know that.”
“Logically, yeah,” he says, “but Reggie just…he knows how to get to me, especially when he’s talking about you. Usually I just go to Archie after this but I uh…I just needed to see you.”
You lift his chin, looking into his eyes.
“I’m glad you did,” you say, “this needs to stop, Jug. As much as I appreciate you defending my honor I don’t want you roughing yourself up anymore. I hate seeing you hurt Juggie.”
Jughead looks at you, eyes shifting slightly.
“C-can I,” his voice breaks a little, “can I kiss you?”
Before you can respond yes, god please yes, you stop yourself, and Jughead speaks before you can explain.
“Sorry, that was…that was stupid I’m so sorry,” he ramble, pulling away from your touch.
“No, no Juggie that’s n-” you stop yourself, shaking your head, “I was…I was going to say yes, but I don’t want to hurt your lip.”
Jughead brings his fingers up to his bottom lip, grimacing as they came in contact with the wound.
“Oh, yeah,” he breaths, “I forgot about that.”
You press your lips to his forehead.
“Let that lip heal up and I’ll uh…I’ll kiss you for real,” you smile.
Jughead smiles again, wincing as his lip opens a bit more.
“Will ice make this heal a bit faster?” He asks.
“Yeah maybe just a little,” you laugh quietly.
“Well I better uh,” he lifts the corner of his mouth in a smile, holding up a bag of ice, “better get to healing.”
“Yeah,” you say, ruffling his hair softly, “yeah you better.”
Jughead holds the ice pack to his lip, and all you can think is how you hope to god it heals fast.
It had only been a couple months since Stiles’ return from the Ghost Riders’ clutches, but the familiar ache had managed to seep itself back into Lydia’s chest.
It was silly, she knew. This was nothing like what happened then. She knew exactly when he was coming back—the countdown on her phone leaving her no room to doubt—but the difference this time was that she fully remembered who she was missing.
There were only a couple months until they were officially separated by an eleven hour multiple-buses ride, seven hour drive or hour and a half flight, and Lydia really wanted to spend every possible minute with him before they had to deal with that for the majority of the school year. Dropping him off for his pre-registration at the beginning of the summer at George Washington University and driving away had been hard enough, even if she picked him up a few days later on her way back to Beacon Hills.
They were in Beacon Hills for the summer, packing up the rest of their lives to move across the country for their post-secondary education and spending the last bit of time with their family and friends before only seeing them on holidays and designated breaks.
Right now, Stiles was on a trip with his dad – a week long father-son bonding trip in the great outdoors before they were separated until Christmas. Because they were up in the mountains, cell reception was pretty much non-existent so Lydia was completely cut off from him until his return or at least until they came back to ground level.
Lydia had tried her best to keep busy, spending time with her friends when she could, extra girl time with her mom, and generally packing and preparing for moving, even if she had another couple weeks to go. She had made about three dozen checklists and completed them all, and still, she found herself checking her phone regularly for an update from Stiles, fighting the urge to send him a text or seven.
She was fine. She was. She was an independent woman, dammit. She had spent plenty of time alone, single, and enjoyed her own company.
But she couldn’t help but yearn to talk to him, to be near him. Since their relationship officially was taken to the romantic level, she had grown to miss cuddling him on lazy days or quiet nights, getting lost in kissing him, and even just the simplicity of being able to hold his hand while they roamed the grocery store for food for their date night.
She really just wanted to hear his voice, see his smile, make him laugh. She missed the comfort she felt when he was nearby, the safety that rested in her veins. He always made her feel better; even if she was already in a good mood, he just rose it to another level. He had come to be one of the people she hung out with the most, too, over the years. Since Allison’s passing, he had become the next closest thing to a best friend. It only improved when he became her boyfriend.
She was so lost in her thoughts, she startled at the sound of her phone beeping.
Hello, amazing person! Who is your favorite DS9 character? I know it's hard to pick just one but, maybe, three top characters? And maybe tell us what your three favorite episodes per season are? Only if you want to and have time, I just love hearing your opinions. :)
Hello anon!!! You sent this to me when I was in the beginning of Season 7 and I saved it until here at the end so I could give you THE DEFINITIVE ANSWERS.
DS9: TARRA’S GOSH DARN FAVES
**Note on picking method, although I’ll try to explain more if anyone wants, as coming up with a rationale for my emotional choices is one of my favorite INFJ pastimes
Character: Julian “Biscuit” Bashir, let’s face the facts and they are these. Actually it would be harder to pick ONLY TWO MORE of my darlings than to just leave it at that, so I will. This is the only cheat I’m gonna give myself though!
…except for how I’ve just decided that instead of 3 favorite eps per season I get 21 total. Because a few seasons are fave-heavy so we’re just gonna redistribute, shhh, don’t worry about it.
1x04 ‘Babel’ - Chief O’Brien trips a booby trap left on the station and all hell & nonsense breaks loose, in the first instance of the DS9 plot conceit that dreams are made of. Specifically mine.
1x16 ‘The Forsaken’ - Just a lot of great character work here, across the whole crew. This is where I was starting to feel like I was really getting to know these people, and I really liked them.
2x22 ‘The Wire’ - One of my favorite episode of television I have ever seen. Like of all of them, of all the television. It’s astonishing, just on an objective level, even before you get to my personal soft spots for storytelling and spies serving tea and narratives that don’t tell me the answers, GOD, never tell me.
2x23 ‘Crossover’ - In which we learn that I unironically love Mirror ‘Verse episodes like some sort of astral raccoon rolling around in this dumb glittery space garbage. (Anyway, in an unexpected “haha help me” discovery, my notes reveal that Julian was already one-sidedly referring to O’Brien as his best friend at this point.)
SEASON 3 3x07 ‘Civil Defense’ - Conceivably the best DS9 recap I’ve written, which makes me happy as this second station booby trap episode would be in the running for the best of the series. An absolute ball of fun made even more lovable to me by how fucking impeccable the plotting of this one is. A triumph of the writers room, a showcase of an ensemble piece, an exemplar of the space genres.
3x20-21 ‘Improbably Cause’ / ‘The Die is Cast’ - Two-parters count as one, especially GARAK TWO-PARTERS. A gift to Andrew Robinson, a gift from Andrew Robinson. Andrew Robinson!
3x22 ‘Explorers’ - Ben and Jake go on a father-son road trip in the prettiest space sailing ship the world has ever seen, and Miles and Julian get drunk and talk about their feelings: this episode is worth its weight in latinum.
SEASON 4 4x03 ‘Hippocratic Oath’ - Lost-crashing onto a desert island in space, NCO Chief O’Brien needs to figure out how to negotiate the increasingly undeniable/unfortunate reality that Dr. Bashir is his superior officer as well as his second spouse, in a uniquely Tarra-oriented episode that I love dearly.
4x15 ‘Bar Association’ - The one where Rom unionizes and Worf tries to figure out just what Star Trek he’s on now is honestly one of my favorites of the whole lot. Initially I was going to classify it as a standalone, but then remembered I’ve tried to explain it to people only to realize each time that it actually required such strong foundations in character and culture to work as well as it did.
4x16 ‘Accession’ - Tons of fantastic religion and relationship stuff for Kira Nerys and Ben “The Emissary” Sisko, one of my most favorite pairs, and meanwhile the Julian/Miles/Keiko storyline just shoots for the STARS.
4x24 ‘Body Parts’ - Again, every element here firing on all cylinders. Quark commissioning Garak to murder him when he least expects it, Nerys being adopted into the O’Brien family, the whole station scrounging up things to help Quark build his bar back, my tears….
SEASON 5 5x03 ‘Looking For Par’Mach In All the Wrong Places’ - Perhaps the best way to get across just how much I love the Andy Robinson-directed station rom-com that plays like a Deep Space Harold Lloyd film, is if I tell you it bumped ‘Doctor Bashir, I Presume’ off my Season 5 set.
5x06 ‘Trials and Tribble-ations’ - A glorious thing. Ohhhh the nostalgia, the jokes, the X-Files-esque framing device, the love, the fuchsia….
5x14-15 ‘In Purgatory’s Shadow’ / ‘By Inferno’s Light’ - Garak + intrigue + the single greatest reveal that has ever happened to me. So good I can hardly stand it. THE WAY THEY USED THE COSTUME CHANGE. God. Some part of me is still yelling.
5x25 ‘In the Cards’ - Pure happiness. Baseball cards, mad scientists, Jake and Nog on a Quest of Tasks, and begins with a high style wartime dinner table tableau that is second only to the first few minutes of Legion ‘Chapter 3’ for my all-time favorite episode opening. Hell, it might even still be first. Representative note: “this was the best episode, it’s this one.”
SEASON 6 6x01 ‘A Time To Stand’ & 6x05 ‘Favor the Bold’ - I love my weary weird war-worn Defiant crew, I love my crackling, smoldering Kira, I love living on a starship again, I love all the resistance plotting in Quark’s bar — I love this S6 miniseries!! I’ve picking my two favorites out of the six because we’d already established that two-parters count as one. Don’t think about it too much and it makes sense.
6x07 ‘You Are Cordially Invited’ - One of the best Jadzia Dax episodes of the series, and not just because she throws a party with a fire dancer and physically fights her mother-in-law.
6x25 ‘The Sound of Her Voice’ - Such a beautiful conceit. In many ways this is an episode about loneliness, but it comes together in a way that is actually celebrating how much connections with others truly mean to us as people. Just a wonderfully Star Trek sort of episode, in its graceful melding of the heartfelt and philosophical with a high-grade ~science fiction~ plot.
SEASON 7 7x06 ‘Treachery, Faith, and the Great River’ - The peak Nog episode and the peak Weyoun episode. In its melding of the hilarious and the misadventure and the fucked up, it hits that rollicking heart-rocking surreal realism vibe I associate with Heller’s Catch-22, which makes sense as memory-for-trifles told me that was the inspiration for the Great River plot. Nice.
7x21 ‘When It Rains…: Part 5’ & 7x22 ‘Tacking Into the Wind: Part 6’ - I am…treating this like a two-parter within the 10-ep conclusion stretch. Just let it happen. And when you do you will get: Kira donning a Starfleet uniform, Julian medically yelling at people over Space Skype, Miles apparently just starting to sleep over in the infirmary, Winn banishing blind Dukat to beg in the streets of Bajor, and The Garak & Kira Show, feat. the Damar Development – the Cardassian Resistance being one of my verrry favorite things to come out of this season.
7x23 ‘Extreme Measures: Part 7’ - Miles/Julian, Deep Space Inception. my notes: “like if I’d written this story myself I would think ‘well that was self-indulgent’ — that’s the level of My Thing we’re at here.”
Honorable Mentions, holy shit there’s a lot of good stuff in this list: 2x02 ‘The Circle’ / 2x03 ‘The Siege’ - 3x03 ‘House of Quark’ - 3x16 ‘Prophet Motive’ - 4x01 ‘The Way of the Warriors: Part 1 & 2’ - 4x05 ‘Rejoined’ - 4x09 ‘Our Man Bashir’ - 5x05 ‘The Assignment’ - 5x12 ‘The Begotten’ - 5x16 ‘Doctor Bashir, I Presume’ - 6x14 ‘One Little Ship’ - 6x18 ‘Inquisition’ - 7x03 ‘After Image’ - 7x04 ‘Take Me Out to the Holosuite’ - 7x05 ‘The Siege of AR-558’ - 7x15 ‘Badda-Bing Badda-Bang’
And you didn’t ask these but I’ll tell ya
Favorite Whole Season: SEASON 4, omg Season 4, are u kidding me S4
Favorite Writer: Ron Moore, followed by my guy Robert Hewitt Wolfe
Favorite Director: Michael Dorn definitely. All three episodes he directed appear in this post – a perfect batting average.
I like to think that Jonathan and his dad had a good lil relationship going.
Definitely weird and definitely NOT GOOD parenting, but they were close.
I like the idea of Mr.Crane being the kind of parent who would pick Jonathan up from school right on time everyday in the minivan and ask how his day went and actually listen. He wouldn’t push for answers when Jonathan just replies with a shrug and wouldn’t nag Jonathan about getting a haircut even though he can barely see his eyes. Since he supposes that it’s “just one of the hip fashions these days.”
“Oh my god dad. Please don’t call my hair a hip fashion.”
I also like the idea of Jonathan being supportive of his dads weird fear hobby. Like he was probably just like “aight dad sure I’ll go along on your scaring people to death adventures” because it probably meant a lot to his pops that Jonathan tagged along, like father-son camping trips spooky edition.
I bet on the days when Jonathan didn’t want to go along, Mr. Crane got all sad and guilt trippy in that lame parent way, like “Oh. guess I’ll have to go alone, then. I thought it could be fun, just me and you. Well. Goodbye son. There’s dinner in the fridge next to the fermenting adrenal glands. I love you.”
Until Jonathan’s like “FINEEEE I’LL COMEEE” and then Mr. Crane just lights up.
Mr. Crane would get super giddy over who they are going to scare, like “Jonathan this next fellow is scared of zombies. Zombies son! What do you say we dress up and give him a good scare?”
Then after a night of scaring people they probably run into the car and Mr. Crane is like GOOD SHOW, MY BOY and he highfives Jonathan and on the way home they get burgers while they’re still in zombie makeup
Jonathan must have no friends whatsoever because all of his evenings were spent this way.
Food for thought: a traditional romance story and a buddy-cop story have the same fundamental plot structure. So does a father-son road trip story. Each of them revolves around the relationship between two people, and how it grows as they spend time together.
The Greeks defined four forms of love- storge (familial love, the father-son road trip story), philia (friendship, the buddy-cop story), eros (romantic love, the traditional romance story), and agape (unconditional love). The problem is, with how similar they can be, it’s easy to perceive one type as another, especially if the story leaves it somewhat ambiguous. Take Zootopia for example- the relationship between Judy and Nick is probably platonic, but it can easily be read as romantic instead without contradicting or handwaving anything in the story.
I’ve yet to see anybody claim that there’s no buildup for a relationship between Blake and Yang in RWBY. It’s pretty obvious that there is. The arguments are instead about what *kind* of relationship they have. Are they romantically interested in one another? Are they platonic best friends? Have they come see each other as sisters? While I have my own opinions on that, it has been written ambiguously enough in the show itself that any of those could be the case.
The problem is, that’s the only relationship of any kind that’s had that amount of buildup. Ruby and Weiss have had some, although often more in the background. Weiss and Blake have had a few scenes. Blake and Sun have had some as well, but currently it seems to revolve around how neither understands the other very well. Pyrrha and Jaune had fairly little, really, just maintaining a love triangle status quo for a while, and then when they finally started moving past that it ended rather painfully. Nora and Ren had a bit, and got quite a bit more towards the end of Volume 4. Other relationships have only had a few hints here and there.
The creators of RWBY have promised ever since the show came out that there would be LGBT representation. So far, all of the candidates for such a relationship have been left ambiguous, so we don’t know which (if any) of them might turn out to actually be romantic. But for it to feel satisfying and worth the wait, I feel like it’ll have to be one that’s had a fair amount of relationship buildup already and then gets confirmed in canon as being romantic as opposed to platonic or familial. I see at most three that fit that bill as it stands, and I really hope they haven’t waited this long to *start* building one up.
1. Dr. Alana Maxwell’s favorite book, besides Nuts and Bolts: A Guide to Constructing Artificial Intelligence by Dr. Jasika Simmons, is Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.
This should be surprising to no one.
Kepler had laughed when she told him, smug, catlike grin widening across his broad face. “Figures,” he’d chortled, like he had known all along.
Jacobi had immediately shrieked, “It’s alive!” before going back to building another one of his explosive devices, yelling more references to tease her with.
It is important to note that neither of them know why she loves Frankenstein. It’s not for the reasons they think.
She had first read the book when she was seven years old, eating lunch in the tiny school library as usual, and some other student had knocked it off its shelf. She began reading Frankenstein immediately, and forgot about her apple juice and stale granola bar, and almost didn’t make it class on time. She loved books because they took her away from places, and this one was no exception.
Maxwell had never understood why Dorothy would ever want to go home.
Thranduil: Remember when I used to read to you before bedtime?
Legolas: Is that a trick question?
Thranduil: No, I am asking if you remember.
Legolas: Yes. Why?
Thranduil: I just wanted to know.
Legolas: Oh no. Here it comes.
Thranduil: Legolas, when did you become so suspicious of your father?
Legolas: How much time do we have?
Thranduil: Son, can we just have a conversation without the cynicism?
Legolas: I am almost afraid to answer that.
Thranduil: You can do it.
Legolas: Fine. Yes, Dad, I remember when you read to me at bedtime.
Thranduil: And remember when what I gave you for your 2160th birthday?
Legolas: Yes. You gave me a horse.
Thranduil: Watching you grow up was a genuine pleasure.
Legolas: Thanks, Dad.
Thranduil: So, what are you getting me for Father’s Day?
Legolas: I don’t know.
Thranduil: You mean you didn’t think about it.
Legolas: Yes, I did. You are hard shop for.
Thranduil: No I am not. I like silver. I need a new broach–this one is so second age. I could use another coat–this is so fall, it’s summer. Gold, or green–embroidered with silk lining. No cotton. Dry clean only. And I would like breakfast in my chambers for a change.
Legolas: Is that all, Dad?
Thranduil: I was giving you some ideas. I mean I raised you all alone while ruling a kingdom invaded by hordes of orcs and spiders–there were days it was almost to much too bear.
Legolas: Dad, I had a governess until last year.
Thranduil: It was a struggle telling her how to take care of you all alone while ruling a kingdom invaded by hordes of orcs and spiders.
Legolas: Guilt trip?
Thranduil: Pack your bags, it’s going to be a long one.