life, but not as we know it

[kat_lair]

Gah, I slept way too late. Having finally hauled my ass out of the bed I have so far only managed to achieve breakfast, dishes, putting laundry on, paying rent, texting a friend, checking emails. Notice how none of that included anything even vaguely academic. Hayfever season is here and MY FACE LEAKS, okay, eyes, nose, I’m this close *pinches fingers really close together* to just giving up an drooling on myself just to complete the picture. Fuck yeah I’m attractive at the moment.

Thank you to everyone for cheering me up the other day. You guys are crazy awesome and I love you and not always platonically! It appears I have missed my true calling in life by not taking up space piracy. But it’s okay though because ginnystar and I may have created a whole sprawling space!verse with adventures, antiques smuggling, slutty mechanics boys and stowaways with tattooed hipbones. Other people’s contributions fit in nicely; inkblot_fiend has shipyard, and fictionalfaerie and entangled_now (who is not allowed pets, ever) should work there and bond in their abject fear of space, zeitheist tinkers in engineering (and probably letches after the mechanics!boy), broadwayyy and I partied on Mars like nobody’s business, slash4femme is a mad genius with weakness for shoes, planetkiller , despite her frankly worrying name, navigates like a mofo and gets us to the best gigs in the quadrant.

Also, because ginnystar is my kind of crazy, there is now an icon *points up* FUCK YEAH!



In discussion with zeitheist I also discovered a yearning for a Star Trek!Reboot fic about Lol Chekov! So young, so naive, so corruptible. I kind of want to write read a fic where he loses his virginity to some grateful native alien youth of undefined gender and ends up catching some embarrassing but harmless STI. And everyone teases him horribly. And McCoy has to give him a lecture on safe sex with aliens (which essentially boils down to DON’T DO IT, IT’S ENOUGH THAT I HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE CAPTAIN DYING OF CROTCH ROT). Scotty, Sulu, Spock and Uhura draw straws on who has to sit him down for “The Talk” about the non-health related aspects of sex. McCoy refused to participate on the grounds of CROTCH ROT, YOU WILL ALL DIE OF IT SOONER OR LATER YOU IDIOTS. Kirk volunteered but was summarily disqualified by everyone as a Really Bad Role Model (he’s still sulking in his quarters). Spock didn’t fully understand the concept of “drawing straws” or “The Talk” but participated anyway in the name of crew unity and empirical observation of human customs. He lost. In approximately 3.5 hours when Spock gets off duty and corners Chekov in the empty meeting room for “The Talk” (he did research, there are illustrations) Chekov is going to fervently wish he had died of crotch rot instead of just having a mild rash in an inconvenient location.

WHO WILL WRITE IT FOR MEEEEEEEEE?



Finally, because this amuses me to no end. GO GIVE IT TO ME THE WAY I LIKE IT BITCHES!


LOOK AT THIS MOTHERFUCKING GQ MEME