What do you think lazy Sunday mornings would be like with Finn/Rey/Poe?
General Organa pinched the bridge of her nose. “Rey.”
There was a profound and deep silence in the hangar, interrupted only by the intermittent beep and whir of mech droids, doing their daily maintenance on the other x-wings. Leia sighed.
“Rey, I can see you.”
Very slowly, the rest of Rey’s head appeared over the edge of the cockpit. “Good morning, General,” she said with a sheepish smile.
“I was under the impression that I ordered you, along with Commander Dameron and Lieutenant Finn, to remove yourself from duty for the next three cycles before you dropped dead of exhaustion,” Leia says dryly. “Am I mistaken?”
“So either you ignored a direct order from your commanding general, or you’re not working on an x-wing at,” Leia idly checked her chronometer, “seven-hundred hours.”
Rey’s expression was doing something complicated, torn between amusement and vague embarrassment. “In my defense, General, I had to be awake much earlier on Jakku to beat the sun and the other scavengers. It’s simply habit by now.”
Leia snorted. “Also, you thought that no one would be around to notice your flagrant disobedience.”
“No, I’m sticking with my first answer,” Rey said firmly.
“And Commander Dameron and Lieutenant Finn? I suppose they’re still asleep in your quarters, since neither of them share your desert upbringing.”
It was funny to watch Rey school her face into blankness. “Of course, General. Why would they disobey an order from you?”
Leia did laugh at that. “Remind me to get someone from Intel to teach you how to lie convincingly. After your temporary suspension is up,” she added pointedly, when Rey perked up. “Go to bed, Rey.”
Honestly, Leia could forgive everyone who had assumed Rey was Luke’s daughter. They pulled the exact same face whenever they were annoyed, and just barely refraining from whining about it.
(Maybe it was a Jedi thing.)
Leia wandered into the command center without looking up from her datapad. It always benefited her to get through the previous day’s transmits before first shift began in earnest; otherwise she would be dealing with the backlog all week.
She marked a message from the ambassador to Brindisi for further follow-up and hummed, pleased. “If I look up and either of you is standing at the command console, I will have you dragged to medical and personally ensure that Major Calonia doses you with a sedative.”
There was a pause, then a flurry of datapads being gathered up and frantic whispering, the ping! of a file being saved to the console. A very quiet, “go, go, go,” along with boots scuffling on the duracrete.
When Leia looked up, there was no one in the command center except her, and the fading after-image of a holo battleplan. DAMERON, CMD., FINN, LT. obligingly blinked on the screen for a moment before it went dark.
Leia smiled slightly to herself, and went back to the transmits.
The next morning, she found Finn reorganizing the storeroom. At six hundred twenty hours. “That is on-duty work, Lieutenant,” she said, almost startling him into falling off the ladder. “And I’m fairly certain you are currently off-duty.”
Finn’s blank expression was much better than Rey’s. “General, with all due respect, is there any way I can convince you to sleep in an hour or two?”
“Funny,” Leia said. “That’s what I was going to ask you.”
Rey had updated the software for all the droids in the maintenance bay at some point during the night; it was time for Leia to call in the big blasters.
…….unfortunately, “the big blasters” were on their eighth run-through on the x-wing simulator. Leia watched Poe dispassionately, noting that the first run-through was timestamped 00512. “General!” Poe said, after he completed the run, and tugged his helmet off. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there. Something I can do?”
“No,” Leia said finally. “No, just letting you know that your suspension is up tomorrow. Please be aware that if you, Rey, or Lieutenant Finn ever show up incapacitated to the point of being unable to fulfill your obligations again, I will take drastic measures.”
He regarded her warily. “May I ask what those are, General?”
“I’ll personally shove a sed-pack up your ass, Dameron. Or worse,” Leia said, cocking an eyebrow at him, “I’ll make all of you talk to a minder until you stop waking each other up with your nightmares.”
Poe, like Rey, has never been a very good liar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, General,” he says, fitting the sim helmet back over his head. His next words are muffled—”But I’ll take it under advisement.”
i am 1000% convinced that cecil palmer’s favourite song is fireflies by owl city
and he doesn’t even understand the memes because he’s an Old Man™ who isn’t Down With The Kidz™ but he still loves the song
and he plays it to carlos any chance he gets because ‘IT’S THE BEST THING EVER CARLOS AND YOU CAN’T TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME’ and he sobs dramatically at the bit before the chorus where the guy’s voice gets all low and sad
For the prompt thing if you could do a winter klance. Like when you go to winter mart and there’s stalls with freshly baked bread and ginger bread cookies. Some people sell warm apple cider and there are horses that pull a big sled that take you around town. Maybe getting to look at ornaments and getting Keith to get mittens (cause his gloves don’t cover his finger tips). Idk if it’d be modern au or BOM Keith taking a break for Christmas (upon the team’s insistence). It has fluff potential... :)
I always really love this aesthetic but whenever it gets really popular, I find it hard to get really immersed because it’s like… 30 some degrees celsius outside for me haha. But I always love writing winter market scenes, so lets do this. (Modern au btw)
Lance waits on the outskirts of the the markets, his cheeks turning pink and his breath forming clouds around his lips. Music echoes from some speakers somewhere in the markets and Lance can’t wait to taste whatever is making that sweet, spicy smell. His legs start to tremble in the cold.
Lance flicks through his phone once more. Only a message from Hunk.
Hey, sorry Pidge and I suddenly had to stay at uni. Our professor needed a hand with some research and he called in a favour. Apparently we “owe him” after he didn’t report us for blowing up the autoclave.
Lance pouts, but understands. He hammers out a quick reply. It’s ok. He can still have fun with Shiro, Allura, Matt, and… Keith. Lance swallows. He tries not to think about the excitement that thrums through his veins when he realises he’ll be hanging out with Keith outside of class.
He’s just starting to get his pulse under control when he sees a familiar face across the parking lot. The shorter boy looks to be dealing with the cold weather even worse than himself, holding his frame around the middle and shivering inside a jacket that is far too thin. Lance waves and shouts out his name. Keith forces a smile and jogs into the dim lamplight. His nose is pink.
“Hey, where are the others?” Lance looks across the dark stretch of parking lot but sees no one else he recognises. Shiro and Keith always showed up to events together, being roommates and all, and Matt would usually come with Shiro.
“They’re not coming. Matt apparently spaced on an assignment that’s due in two days? And Shiro used to tutor that class so he’s helping him.”
“Oh…” Lance pauses. “We should we wait for Allu-”
“Allura had to go home today. Apparently her Uncle prepared a surprise ski trip for christmas so she’s flying back to Europe tonight.”
“Oh…” Lance repeats. He shuffles nervously on his feet and kicks a lump of ice with his boot.
“Where are Hunk and Pidge?” Keith asks. He rubs his hands together in a vain attempt to stop them from freezing.
“Also not coming.” Lance sighs. “Had to help a professor of theirs soooooo~”
“Sooooo…” Keith mimics.
The two boys stare down at the ice, not quite sure how to proceed. Lance bites his lips, while Keith scratches his chin.
“Look, Lance… it’s really cold and maybe we should-”
“Ah no, c’mon man!” Lance pouts. He starts to grab the hem of Keith’s jacket.
“We’re already out! We’re here! We’re already cold and damp! We can have a good time, just you and me.” Lance tugs Keith closer. Keith finds himself unable to pull away. He rolls his eyes and smirks.
“You don’t wanna hang out with me?” Lance puts on his best puppy eyes. Keith groans.
“No of course-”
“Then let’s go!”
Before Keith can protest, Lance’s hand is wrapped around his and he’s being pulled to the market’s entrance. His eyes adjust to the hundreds of twinkle lights that drape themselves through the trees. Bright lanterns cast warm light onto the cobblestone pathway that has been cleared of snow. Food stalls stretch out in front of them, their plumes of sweet smoke and steam scenting the air all around, and a children’s choir sings in the distance.
“So!” Lance claps his hands together and beams. His tan skin looks particularly golden in the warm light.
“Where to first? What’s your favourite christmas food or activity?”
Keith blanches. He fidgets with the cuffs of his jacket and shrugs.
“I don’t uh… I don’t mind. Whatever you want.”
“No, I wanna know. What’s your favourite christmas market treat?” Lance presses. He waits expectantly with a bright smile and gleaming eyes. Keith sighs.
“Lance I uh… I’ve never really done Christmas before.” He mumbles. Keith’s feet move him over to the closest stall to look at the handmade candles on sale. They have scents such as baked apple, pine, and butterscotch. Keith curiously sniffs them distractedly, like he hasn’t just admitted something very personal. Lance jogs after him.
“Wha…what do you mean you’ve never ‘done Christmas’? Like you haven’t Done a white Christmas? Cuz I know you’re originally a desert kid…”
“No, no, I mean…” Keith sets down the bergamot candle he was inspecting and turns towards Lance. He never makes eye contact and wraps his arms tighter around his waist.
“Like I never really had a proper Christmas. I don’t remember them with my biological family, and things were pretty depressing at the orphanage. Of course I had friends at boarding school, but SHiro and the others would go home for Christmas and I would be…” He scratches his chin. Keith wishes he could melt away like the slush under his boots.
“I would be alone so…” Keith forces a smile. “Anyway, it’s fine, but yeah I really don’t have a good understanding of Christmas traditions. So why don’t you show me your favourite things.”
“No.” Keith snaps. His voice is sharp. Lance winces. Keith softens and gently touches his elbow.
“I don’t want you pity. I’m ok. And I’m really excited to be here with you now.” Keith smiles. Truly smiles. And Lance feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.
“Well ok!” Lance claps his hands together. “Let’s have the best Christmas EVER!” He announces. He turns and begins to eye over the many stalls in front of him, thinking about what they’ll do first.
“So where to first?” Keith steps close and rocks on the balls of his feet.
“Man, I have no idea. I’ve never done one of these things before.”
“Wha…? But I thought…?”
“I’m from Cuba dude. All this chestnuts and pumpkin pie stuff is completely new to me. I’m as much at a loss as you.” Lance laughs. He eagerly begins to wind his way through the crowds, making his way towards a drink cart that is continuously serving up mugs of steaming liquid.
“Hold up!” Keith tugs his sleeve. Lance halts.
“So you’re telling me that neither of us has any idea what we’re supposed to do here?” His eyes narrow. Lance places his hands on his hips. His warm laughter clouds around his face and his ears begin to turn pink as they creep out from beneath his beanie.
“Yup!” He laughs. Keith blusters, but stops when Lance pulls him close. His voice becomes quiet.
“But I wouldn’t want to experience this any other way.”
Keith blushes and hopes that Lance attributes it to the cold.
“Now c’mon, let me buy you an apple cider.”
“Is it good?”
“No idea, but I like apple juice so you know…”
The two boys laugh and begin to line up at the cart. When they’ve received their orders and their bellies start to warm with the sweet and spicy liquid, Lance announces their next quest.
“I’m going to buy you a Christmas hat.”
“Because you look even worse suited to the cold weather than me. SO I’m going to buy you a hat. And it’s going to be red, and the more pom poms on it the better.” Lance wraps his fingers around Keith’s and they walk hand in hand through the markets.
“And then we’re going to get some chestnuts because I want to know why white people sing songs about them all the time. And we’ll see what this gingerbread hype is all about too.” Keith tightens his grip and giggles.
“I want to go ice skating.” He states. Lance hums.
“I hear it can be really dangerous. Have you done it before?”
“Me neither…. I’ll race you around the rink.”
Both boys laugh and feel their chests start to warm with something else besides the cider.
So… I have mixed feelings about this new revelation that Michael is Spock’s half-sister, because it’s a tricky thing -I mean, it could be either absolutely awesome or completely terrible (as with all things, after all). I hope they do this right! (And also explain what the hell was going on through Sarek’s mind during most of his parenting days).
To acclimatise (I guess) to the new canon, here’s Michael helping baby Spock walk into the desert sand! They’re all dressed up for the family picture (I bet Vulcans wear lots of glitter/shiny clothing when it’s an important occasion, as shown in Amok time) and Amanda is taking the holo!
okay but i know a lot of people are on the knight jeremy train, but hear me out for a second
one of the youngest kings out of the current kings to rule. he may not know a whole lot, but he tries his best to learn all he can so he can run a successful kingdom. who always puts his people first and is one of the kindest rulers. who creates beautiful buildings and structures either for people to live in or to decorate the kingdom. who is fair and kind and courageous. a man who is a nightmare on the battlefield and can destroy armies with little effort. a man who charges into battle with hell’s fire in his veins. who, after every battle, weeps for the lost lives and goes to the homes of the knights who gave their lives to say his condolences to the families, should their families be alive. a king who gives it his all to protect everyone, even if they have committed crimes.
literally just give me king jeremy who tries his best and is always optimistic and trying to make his kingdom a welcome place for all to come to.
Request: Hi ! I love your stories ! Do you think I can request a Bucky x Reader, where she has a 6yo son and he is Bucky’s but he doesn’t know ‘cause of HYDRA capturing him when she found out she was pregnant & they haven’t seen each other since, please?
Grant Barnes ran around the park, squealing alongside all the other children. Their mothers watched them from afar, all smiling and cheering their babies on. Some of them even had fathers watching them proudly, their eyes twinkling happily and their heart full of joy. And then there was (Y/N) who was sitting on one of the benches furthest away from the playground all by herself. She had no ring on her finger, no man to kiss her cheek and call her beautiful, she had no husband and Grant Barnes had no father. Perhaps six or seven years ago he had one but that felt like a century ago, a century ago the war ended, a century ago when every woman stopped at the stations to pick up her man, when every wife presented her child to the recently returned soldier but that hadn’t been (Y/N)’s case. Rather than go and pick her lover up from the station she had sat at home, breast feeding her brand new baby boy.
"Momma!“ Grant yells as he approaches his mother, all smiles and giggles despite the sweltering heat of Brooklyn. "Will you come play with me?” (Y/N) smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Grant’s hair, a small, disbelieving chuckle falling from her lips.
“Baby, don’t you want to play with the other kids?”
“No mommy, I want you to come play with me,” Grant tugged on (Y/N)’s sleeve, persistent in his choice. (Y/N) chuckles as they stand up, much to Gran’ts delight as he squeals happily.
“What do you wanna play baby boy?”
“I wanna play soldiers!” Grant exclaims innocently, his eyes shining with excitement. (Y/N) sighs softly as her heart aches, the memories of Bucky slowly surfacing. She had managed to keep them down, try not to dwell on the thoughts of her long lost lover but it was always inevitable- there was always something that would remind (Y/N) of Bucky. The bitter scent of coffee in the mornings, a poster for a new science convention, the smell of fresh sheets, the warmth that would surround (Y/N) every time she climbed into bed; there was always a bit of Bucky in everything, even if he never really was there.
“Okay, who do you wanna be?”
“I want to be Captain America!” Grant shouted, beaming from ear to ear. Little did Grant know that he was actually named after the man himself, (Y/N) had figured Bucky would have wanted their baby boy to have something to do with Steve and since- well, since he wasn’t around anymore the least (Y/N) could do was name her child after him.
“Okay Cap’n,” (Y/N) salutes their baby boy, smiling when he giggled with excitement. “Where’s our first mission?”
“Over in Germ-Germ-Germ-”
“Germany?” (Y/N) suggest lightly, laughing when her son beamed at her.
“Yes! In Germany,” He slurred the word a bit, making his little facade even cuter.
“Well Cap’n, I don’t see a plane anywhere, how do you suppose we’re gonna get there?” Grant hums, stroking his chin in thought before jumping excitedly at an idea.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind carrying Captain America to battle,” Grant suggest, his blue eyes shining up at (Y/N) with child like hope.
“Captain,” (Y/N) placed a hand over her heart, sniffling softly. “It would be my honor to carry you to Germany,” And with that (Y/N) slides her arms around her baby boy, marching him across the playground and to a nearby tree or as Grant called it- Germany. Grant squealed in delight as (Y/N) made airplane noises as she all but charged for the trees, more than delighted to make their sweet baby boy happy. All the other mothers and fathers stared at (Y/N) distastefully but she didn’t care, not when Grant was laughing hysterically and having the time of his life. (Y/N) could only have wished that Bucky was here to see him…
~70 something years later~
Bucky looked down at the file in his hands, about the life he had left behind. There were pictures of (Y/N), looking as beautiful as he remembered her but there was someone else…a little dark haired, blue eyed boy who looked like the perfect combination of Bucky and (Y/N).
“His name was Grant,” Fury mutters from his seat, his eyes glued to Bucky’s hands clutching the folder. “(Y/N) named him after Steve,” Bucky gulps, reaching out with a hand to run his fingers along the photographs of what should have been his wife and baby boy. “She found out she was pregnant the day you fell of the train,” Bucky sighs shakily, throwing the folder to the side as he rubs at his burning eyes. He’d left an entire life behind, he’d left behind (Y/N), the love of his life, he’d left behind his family, he’d even left behind a baby he didn’t even know he had. “It’s not too late y’know,” Fury states as he grabs the folder, tucking all the papers and photographs back into manila folder gently. “We’ve kept tabs on Grant over the years…he’s in a home Bucky,” Bucky looks up at the older man, gulping once again. “He’s losing his memory so I suggest that if you wanna meet your kid you better do it now,”
And that’s how Bucky ended up where he was right now, standing in front of a white haired nurse in some retirement home.
“I’m uh- I’m looking for a Grant Barnes?”
“Oh! He hasn’t had visitors in years…”
“Yeah uh- I’m a distant cousin, thought I’d come see him for a bit,” The nurse smiles, clutching a clipboard to her chest tightly.
“That’s so sweet, he’ll be glad to see you. He’s in room 303 by the way, just down the hall and to the left,’ Bucky gives the nurse a light smile and a polite thank you before he walks down the hall, stuffing his hands in his pockets. All around him the sounds of beeping machines and oxygen tanks filled the air, leaving his heart aching at the thought that his boy- his own damn child- was one of the poor sickly elders here.
Bucky’s feet stop abruptly in front of room 303, the door decorated brightly in pink and red hearts, each one stating something wonderful about Grant- about his son. With a shaky sigh Bucky knocked his knuckles on the door, waiting for a nurse or someone to let him in.
“Come in!” A sweet female voice called. Bucky gently opened the door, poking his head inside the hospital room. There were two people in the room, an elderly looking man who once looked as though he had been beautiful but age had slowly withered away that beauty and a young female, perhaps around the age of twenty, sitting directly across from the man. “Can I help you?” She asks, smiling at Bucky sweetly.
“Uh yeah- um, I’m here to see Grant Barnes?”
“That’s me,” The old man smiles, gibing Bucky a small wave. “What can I do for you sonny?” God- his own child was calling him son and if that didn’t sting Bucky didn’t know what did.
“Um-” Bucky looks down at his hand sheepishly, biting his lip in thought. He hadn’t really thought of what he was going to say when he finally met his own flesh and blood, he thought he’d chicken out and leave before he ever even met his son but now he was here, standing right in front of him. “Was your father James Buchanan Barnes?” The elderly man loses his smile, his face taking on an ugly kind of glare.
“What do you want to know about my father?” Bucky sighs again, raking a hand down his face, one that looked almost like his own sons expect much, much younger.
“I have a little problem you see- I’m James Buchanan Barnes,”
Explaining his situation to his son had been hard, he was almost thrown out of the building until Bucky began to tell Grant things about his mother that no one except himself could know. From there it had been a bit choppy, his son was in shock, as was Bucky, but slowly they opened up to each other and now here they were- talking about (Y/N) as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
“You shoulda seen her,” Grant sighs, his eyes twinkling as he looks at the ceiling. “She was so beautiful, all my friends liked her,” Bucky chuckles, smiling so damn widely he was surprised his face didn’t bust in two.
“She was gorgeous,”
“And strong, so strong,” Grant whispers, breathing out heavily. “She got a job after you- after you died,” Grant hesitates to say the words, almost reluctant to admit that his own mother was dead. “She worked long and hard hours just to provide for me. We were poor but that never stopped her- we may have been low on money but you can bet your bottom dollar that she would find a way to make me and the neighbor kids desert,”
“She always was so generous,”
“She was the best mom anyone could ever ask for,” Grant smiles a little, a small, tender little thing that had Bucky wondering just exactly what Grant was thinking.
“I wish I could have been there-” Bucky sighs, his heart suddenly sinking. “I wish I could’ve seen your first steps, or heard your first words, I wish I could have seen you on your first date or watch you walk down the aisle-”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Grant smiles, reaching over to take Bucky’s metal hand in his own, withered one. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters to me…It’s nice to finally meet you Dad,” Bucky smiles, chuckling a bit even with the tears burning at his eyes.