light phaser

jin: ooh look yoongi, a kumamon cutout! go on, i’ll take a photo of you

yoongi: what? no i’m tired

jin: aww cmon, i thought you liked kumamon. you’ll look so cute!

yoongi: i said no jin. let’s just go back to the hotel

jin: jeez fine. take one of me then?

yoongi: *blushes* there done. can we go now?

jin: *looking through yg’s phone* wow how’d you take 100 photos of me in 10 seconds?

yoongi: *blushes harder* shut up

cosmictuesdays  asked:

Garak/Bashir, ageswap spy AU.


Relations between the Federation and Cardassia had never been good, to start with, so Garak wasn’t surprised in the slightest at their situation, the tall, lean man behind him, his arm around Garak’s throat- not tight enough to start choking- particularly not with his defensive scales, but tight enough to threaten considering he’d already seen how unusually strong the man was for a Human. The phaser pressed to his temple was cold, a sharp contrast compared to the humid air at this rare resort on Cardassia, and as he was half-dragged down the hall to a room he wondered what it would feel like to die- would there be a burst of blazing light as the phaser destroyed him or would there be nothing but instant darkness?

When the human tossed him to the ground, keeping the phaser on him, he sluggishly rolled onto his back and smiled his broad smile, forever said to be insincere. “Now, not that I’m complaining about being dragged to a handsome man’s hotel room, but I’m afraid I’ve got work to do.” He gestured to his stolen uniform, the uniform of the resort’s staff, plain dark coveralls that he found supremely ugly but wouldn’t dare complain about while he was undercover.

He leaned back and wondered if he could reach for his own microphaser fast enough, tucked into his belt, as the human stepped up and put a perfectly shined boot on his chest, his smile bright against his dark skin, framed by that scruffy fur so many species grew on their faces. His smile looked earnest, almost innocent in it’s brilliance, and Garak internally fought to keep the flesh under his scales from flushing.

“Well, if you’re working here, I suppose you wouldn’t mind telling me all about the living accommodations being afforded to the Romulan diplomat’s party, wouldn’t you?”

They smiled at each other, tensely, each one knowing fully what the other was.

“Well, now…what would I know? I’m nothing but a gardner, sir. A plain, simple gardner.”

I want to see Muggleborn students fighting over Star Trek and Star Wars, full on cold shoulders, hushed arguments in the library, duelling (and pretending it’s phasers vs. light sabers).
And the Astronomy professor is a pureblood, has no real idea what they’re talking about, but is proud that they’re talking about their class so earnestly.