chekov: mathletes

A couple memes...

...since I will be chained at my computer until lesson planning's done.

from thistlerose
Ask me to take a picture of any aspect of my life that you're interested in - it can be anything from the house I live in to my favorite shoes. Leave your choice here as a comment, and I will reciprocate by taking the pictures and posting them as an LJ entry. That way you get to know a little bit about my life, if you're remotely interested in it.

Limits: actually not willing to post a picture of my house, or my face.

from ivanolix
Pick a paragraph (or any passage less than 500 words) from any fanfic I've written, and comment to this post with that selection. I will then give you a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what's going on in the character's heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you'd expect to find on a DVD commentary track.

Star Trek fic tag
Torchwood fic tag
The inside of your fridge!

And also, because it beat me into submission on multiple attempts at remixing: Red Lipstick.

It's the red lipstick that catches her attention. She likes the way it stands out against bright white teeth and pale cream skin. She loves the way it puckers around the straw. There are other things to appreciate: delicate throat, slender fingers, legs from here to kingdom come. But it's the red lips that command her gaze.

She can't remember the last time she looked at her own tube of red lipstick, lying forlornly in the bottom bathroom drawer. She'd ripped her last pair of silk stockings at diplomatic mission gone wrong in the Iolian system and never bothered to replace them. That was more than a year ago. Last week, she'd dug Ensign Wong out of a rock pile on Denos 7 with her bare hands. He'd been okay, but her nails had not. She has no questions about which is more important.

But being a captain doesn't mean she's forgotten how to be a woman – or how to appreciate one.

“Your drink's on me,” she says as she stands and sidles toward the red lips at the bar.

Edited at 2010-09-12 06:46 pm (UTC)
I wrote that so long ago, almost at the beginning of my involvement with fandom. Back then, before I was addicted to Pike/One, I used to imagine One as a lesbian. I thought she would be so beautiful with a tall, elegant woman just like her. And I loved the image of her as a very decisive person -- maybe not glamorous, because her job doesn't allow that, but sufficiently conscious of her own attractiveness that she knows she can pick up that woman at the bar.

(Picture will be forthcoming.)
My headcanon has her anywhere from a Kinsey 3-5, so this speaks to my heart. And the image of her with Ms Lipstick is very pretty. (And there is the "incidentally Pikesexual" story that I need to write as well.)

Your favorite shelf of a bookshelf (or a random one)!

(Maybe DVD commentary request later.)
I would love a photo of any one item from your fridge, whether on (a fridge magnet, since photos and flyers would be inappropriately identifying) or in (an item of food or drink).

From "Safety in Numbers":

In the afternoon, she used a bit of her savings to buy plush cushions to create what a human home decor magazines called a reading nook. She didn't have much information about Nyota, but she imagined that a communications specialist would need a cozy place to study. Later, she bought a nice basket and placed it by the door in case Nyota liked to remove her clothes as soon as she came inside, just like Gaila and her sisters did. Surreptitiously, she photographed the best-looking men and women on campus and arranged them in a sort of catalog, which she left on Nyota's pillow with the promise that she would introduce her to anyone who struck her fancy -- even if that meant sharing a partner or two. She resolved that she would even lend Nyota her sex toys if she needed them.

On the final night before her roommate's long awaited arrival, she placed a soft rug and cushions in the middle of the floor so that Nyota would know she was not limited to her side of the room. She bought candles to make the space inviting, and spent several hours arranging them so that their soft light cast a warm golden glow over the entire room. Finally, she lay back on her bed, humming with satisfaction. This was not precisely the adventure she had expected when she joined Starfleet, but she was certain she was equal to the challenge.