ship: this whole time i was just wandering around everywhere just looking for you

Best Pun Ever

Mallory and Mark Kensington were two star struck lovers who had been married for 12 years. Mallory was a commercial airline pilot and Mark was the captain of a nuclear submarine. They were both very responsible with their money, lived simply, had no children, and no vices. The only exception to their frugality was their dog Max whom they doted on at every possible occasion. Unfortunately for Max, fate had terrible plans in store for him. One dark August day, Mallory and Mark were both at their respective jobs and in a cruel twist of fate suffered major mechanical failures at the same time. In a million to one oddity, they both perished in the astonishing first-of-its-kind airplane/submarine accident.

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A Winmills Valentine’s Day

I will go down with this ship. Since they had Christmas together, how about Valentine’s Day?

Word Count: 1850

Warning: Smut, gross fluff because these two deserve to be happy

A/N: I hope you enjoy! XOXO

Sam doesn’t have many keys.

He carries the key to the bunker when he needs to. He has a key ring that holds the extra key to the Impala, and a key to an old, beat up car from the bunker’s garage- the one he drives when he isn’t with Dean. Those have been his only keys for years.

But now he has one more.

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Crossing The Ocean

Asa Butterfield (Actor) x Reader:

(y/n) is part of the supernatural cast and also good friends with Asa. But on the after show party of the movie awards they start to make out and when Jensen catches them he can’t stop teasing (y/n) about it.

×

Being part of the supernatural cast involved uncountable minutes of fooling around, laughing until you got a stomachache and - for me since I was the youngest cast member - enduring the endless teasing about being single among married co-actors.

Apart from that it also involved loads of interviews, conventions, invitations to movie awards and even more interviews.

Standing on the red carpet and having microphones right in front of my nose was now part of my daily life and I’ve never thought that I would get used to these large gatherings of people so quickly.

However, I loved going to movie awards, not only because of the interviews or the fans which I loved so much but also because of meeting other actors, either new ones or old friends.

The category of “old friends” consisted of Asa Butterfield, for example, who I’ve known since god knows when but I don’t see him a lot due to the fact that he lived on the other side of the earth. So, I was always more than happy to meet him again after long periods of only texting and speaking to each other on the phone.

Today was one of these rare days where I got to see him at the movie awards. I have walked over the red carpet with my co-actors from supernatural and answered a lot of questions before going inside the huge building, my eyes constantly looking for Asa.

“Maybe you will finally get a date tonight. I mean the after show party is a great opportunity to find that special someone.”, I heard Jensen say but I just rolled my eyes. “Yeah, sure… I doubt that this will ever happen.”, I murmured while I watched Jared and Genevieve sharing a brief kiss, hoping that someday I will find someone who loves me this much.

“I think she already found one.”, Misha appeared behind us giving me a cheeky smile. I looked up to him, my eyebrows narrowed before asking, “Where have you been the last months? Didn’t you-” “Hey, (y/n), look! It’s Asa, isn’t it?”, Jensen interrupted me loudly, making me push him away slightly and leaning in to see from his spot. “WHAT? Where is he?”, I asked instantly, my gaze wandering through the big hall.

“I’m just kidding.”, he laughed and Misha joined in. “Oh, I forgot how funny you were!”, I said sarcastically, shaking my head while Jensen and Misha were still laughing.

The next two hours involved actors getting their awards followed by their speeches and, of course, I was proud to say that we were be able to go up on the stage getting another award for our amazing tv show.

After that, we all went to the after show party and I was still looking for Asa, asking myself how it was possible to miss him all time. Jared and Jensen had already seen him from distance, so he was definitely here.

When I noticed that I got a message I looked down at my display which revealed a message from Asa: “I’ve been trying to talk to you the whole evening! Where are you? I can’t find you!” I smiled to myself while I answered him: “I’m in the back of the room where the couches are.”

Only few minutes passed before Asa was standing in front of me, a huge smile on his face. “Hey, guys. Do you mind me borrowing (y/n)?”, he laughed and I looked at my friends who only grinned at me. “It’s fine. But don’t do anything naughty.”, Misha said making everyone laugh but I just rolled my eyes again, a smile on my lips.

When I stood up the first thing I did was hugging Asa as tightly as I could, trying not to think about our last hug which lagged too far behind. I took in his scent and tried to memorize it while his arms hold me near him. “(y/n), I missed you so much…”, he sighed quietly, his lips touching my ears slightly making me blush and wanting to be in his arms forever.

“I missed you, too, Asa.”, I whispered before I loosened the hug, noticing everyone’s stares. “Let’s go, I’ll buy you a drink.”, he offered, leading me to the bar but I didn’t miss Jensen winking at us.

Asa and I sat down at the bar, talking, drinking, occasionally touching. I couldn’t help but think about how much I appreciated his company. I loved talking to him or simply listening to his voice since it always made me calm down.

“How long are you going to stay here?”, I wanted to know, hoping that this wouldn’t be our only encounter.
“Two weeks… or 17 days to be exact. Don’t worry (y/n), we’ll have enough time to spend together.”
“I love your shirt, by the way.”, I mentioned after a few seconds of silence, my hand brushing over the soft, gray fabric.

I watched his eyes roaming over my body while he stuttered some words. I gave him a smile as he looked into my eyes again. “I want to say something nice about your dress… but the only thing on my mind is taking it off of you.”, he mumbled, his fingers running through his hair nervously. I felt my face heating up while an awkward silences lingered between us.

“That wasn’t an appropriate thing to say.”, he chuckled, looking everywhere but at me and since I still didn’t know what to reply I just said the first thing that came into my mind, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable around me. “It’s okay.”

His head shot up, his incredible blue eyes looking right into mine.
There was silence again, a tension forming between us and the next thing I remembered was having his soft lips on mine.

I didn’t really know what was happening and I closed my eyes, going by instinct and letting it happen - a decision I would never regret even though I had thought that the main reason for this was the influence of alcohol.
My hands wandered up to his neck while our lips moved in perfect synchronisation. And when I felt his hands grabbing my waist to pull me closer and his tongue licking over my lips, I realised that kissing him was really addictive and I wouldn’t be able to stop.

But after a while he pulled back abruptly, looking at me frantically. “Oh my god… What am I doing? I’m so sorry. I’m ruining everything!”, he panicked, pushing himself away from me and taking his warmth with him. “I think I should go.”, he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and starting leave. “No, Asa! Wait!”, I said loudly, trying to grab his sleeve but he left too quickly, vanishing between the crowd.

But then, right before me, Jensen appeared with a huge smirk on his face. “Looks like you got yourself a boyfriend.”, he chuckled, “Tell me, (y/n), what did you feel while kissing Asa?”, he asked, holding his fist in front of my face as if he was holding a microphone.

“Is this important now?”, I wanted to know, clearly showing him my annoyance. “Of course it is! Asa is a possible future husband, now.”, he insisted but I rolled my eyes. Leaving me after kissing me isn’t exactly what a future husband would do.

“He’s not me fiance.”, I reminded him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “I know, I know. But he could be… in a few years.”, he suggested with a big grin on his lips. “Yeah, sure. Thank god he doesn’t live on the other side of the world.”, I mumbled sarcastically and started to leave. “Where are you going?”, Jensen wanted to know, before I answered, “To the hotel, I’m not in the mood for a party anymore.”

The whole evening the only thing on my mind was Asa kissing me and then leaving like a coward.

The next morning I woke up to a quick, loud knock on my door. I stood up, running my hands through my hair before opening the door. I saw Asa standing there with his hands in his pockets, a nervous smile on his lips.

“How did you know what my room number is?”, I wanted to know when I let him step inside. “Jensen told me.”, he replied quietly, awkwardly standing in the center of my room.

When I stepped in front of him, my arms crossed, I waited for him to say something.
“You’re angry, I get that. And I’m sorry.”, he started, his hands reaching out to touch my arms. His touch sent warmth through my whole body making me want to be closer to him.

“I thought… yesterday… you know, the kiss.”, he continued, stuttering, “I was a bit drunk but kissing you… it made me want to kiss you again. Forever. And only you.”

I stopped breathing while his hand wandered up to cup my face. “I think I fell in love with you… at some point… I don’t know… I like you so much and I totally understand if you don’t feel the same, but…”, he admitted and stopped, looking at me and waiting for any reaction.

But I didn’t know what to do. Neither did I know what to say. “I know that there is a whole ocean between us, being one big reason to shove this feelings away. But I can’t, I tried and I can’t. I want to be with you…”, he finished, scratching his neck and making me blush.

“Can you please say something? Anything, please!”, he mumbled nervously, licking over his dry lips.
I just stepped forward, my hands grabbing his coller and pulling him down to press my lips onto his. Letting out a deep sigh, he kissed me back slowly as his hands found their way to my hips. “I don’t mind crossing the ocean so often.”, I whispered against his lips, making him smile.

“I’m really glad Jensen called me yesterday.”, he said quietly with a grin on his face, earning a confused expression from me.

×

This imagine was requested by @i-ship-it-okay. I hope this is what you had in mind and that you like it. Feel free to send in requests! :)

Dressed Up | Cassian Andor

Pairing: ReaderxCassian

Warnings: PTSD mention, blood mention, essentially I talk about Scarif

Word Count: 2,322 

Summary: Cassian’s never seen you dressed up!!!!!



The medal ceremony for those who fought on Scarif, in memory of those who died, is in a matter of six hours. 


Of the twenty-twenty that left (including K2), nine returned. Though thankful you were among those who returned, every day seemed like another war-zone. A different challenge you weren’t expecting, another person you had to talk to, another flashback or nightmare… 


Everyone who returned had the same problem, but no one really wanted to talk about it. The only who seemed any bit open to talking was Bodhi, partially due to his past. He needed to lay everything on the table in order to move on from at least some part of it. And, of all those who returned, you were the best listener and often found yourself hearing Bodhi retell stories of his former life with the Empire as you mindlessly wandered the base. 


It’s been four months. This should have been enough time to recoup. For you, it was enough to at least converse normally and be in crowds. For Cassian, it was enough to insist he go on missions again, despite waking every night from another nightmare, his arms nearly strangling you in an attempt to make sure you are safe. For the three others who just joined, it meant wandering aimlessly, wondering if they will ever recover. 


For the rest, that meant taking up work around the base. Bodhi is working as a mechanic. Baze and Chirrut are training recruits. Jyn is assisting Mon Mothma with general paper work. 


It did take you the longest to leave the medbay, so at least you were given that by everyone. Bodhi only had a couple of wounds and was in shock, it was more of an issue of monitoring. Baze and Chirrut were both relatively unscathed, save a few very minor wounds. This was true with the other three who returned. Cassian and Jyn had both been shot at least once. 


You, on the other hand, were nearly ripped apart when they got you back. One of the other fighters had jumped on top of a grenade. Your fighter self tried to pull both of you away, but as he jumped and covered it fully, it exploded. This resulted in grenade shrapnel cutting through you in several places and the blood and bits of your fellow rebel all over. It also gave a Stormtrooper a good shot at your leg, your shoulder, and your wrist. Thankfully Bodhi had shot him before he took another shot. However, you were not even conscious when you made it back. 


The final one to make it back, the sarcastic droid, fried himself helping Cassian and Jyn.  


K2SO is still under repairs. The techs aren’t sure he will ever be back. 


You haven’t told Cassian this. 


In your shared room with Cassian, you sit on the desk, unsure of what to do. Six hours is too early to start getting ready, but there is nothing else to do at the moment. You have no work on the base. The fact that you are walking by yourself, conversing normally, and not staring off constantly is more than anyone could have hoped for at this point. 


The blast door to your room slides open, exposing Cassian. His shoes are extremely muddy, with tracks being left behind. You cock your head and watch him walk in. He’s not one to purposefully walk into mud and it isn’t raining on Yavin4 today. But your eyes trail up his body to see the rest of him completely soaking, jacket clinging to him tightly. 


“Cassian?” you murmur, legs swinging still. 


He says nothing; just shuts the door and sheds his coat quickly. His feet carry him to the refresher, shoes tracking mud the whole way. 


“Baze thought throwing me in the pond would cheer me up,” he grumbles, hand on the door to the refresher. 


“Oh.” You stay where you are, watching as your boyfriend slowly shuts the door behind him. 



THREE hours, one towel to remove the shoe prints, and one showered Cassian later, you decided that maybe it was time to get ready. After all the recipients were required to get there early. But as you sit on the edge of your bed, twiddling your thumbs, you are suddenly unsure if you even want to go.
Of all the people who went, you did the least good. The length of the battle in which you actually fought in was severely shorter than the rest and the only reason you lived was because some other rebel splattered themselves over you. 


Without noticing, your head lolls forward, heavy with remembrance. 


The familiar sound of a live grenade fills the cargo ship. It’s just you and your friend, Haci inside. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you turn to him. And you see it in him. What he wants to do. 


He talks a step forward.

 
“Haci!” you screech, grabbing his arm quickly, trying to keep him close to you so that you two can run before it sets off. 


“No,” he replies, tossing himself to the ground. 


The sudden force causes the grenade to detonate. Haci, in all his love for the rebellion, saved you and Bodhi’s ability to connect to the Alliance. But in his wake he left himself, physically, splattered. Blood had gotten into your eyes, onto you shirt, simply everywhere on you. And the bits of skin and bone the grenade busted? Some stuck to your shirt and pants. 


The sight f your friend, blasted all over you, out ranked any pain from the five bits on shrapnel lodge throughout your body. They stung and hurt and burned, but you were shaking in shock from the past ten seconds. 


The next thing you know, you feel three blaster shots ripping through you. Your leg, shoulder, and wrist, all the left side, roaring with demanding anguish. And the trooper hit right through major veins too; blood was pouring out of your leg. 


And you collapsed, black absorbing you. 


“Mí amor, mí (Y/N), ¿estás aquí?” Cassian shouts, his hands gripping yours heavily. 

You shoot up, head still heavy. “What?”


“Another flashback?”


Your brows furrow as you look down to your boyfriend. He is kneeling in front of you, hands gripping your wrists, eyes looking to you in concern. Biting your lip, you consider the possibility that it was a flashback. It seems nowadays that the difference between a flashback, a memory and a dream are blurred.


“How long was I out?” your murmur. 


“About thirty minutes,” he sighs. 


His left hand abandons your right, leaving a cold spot where it just was. Cassian uses this hand to reach up to your face, fixing a few hairs that have fallen astray from your normal style. A gentle smile appears on his face. You know he just wants you to be happy, to be better. But being happy, being better, being normal again isn’t possible. And he knows that. He will never be the same way again either. 


“Are you sure you would still like to go?” Cassian asks, eyes training back to yours. 


“Of course! Why?” 


Suddenly, you are scared that he doesn’t want you there. Or maybe you aren’t going to be awarded. Maybe you weren’t even meant to comeback… 


“I’m just worried about your flashbacks, amor. Now I suggest you head over to Jyn’s quarters because she said she has something for you.”


“Um…”



WELL, she certainly did. 


You were expecting maybe her telling you to calm down, or her giving you another goddamn blank journal, or her giving you another pen (where does she get all these pens from?). What you got was much, much better. 


“Here,” she hums, handing you a silver colored boxed. 


Without wanting to ask questions, your fingers work quickly to open it. The odd cardboard isn’t a familiar feeling; you are so used to metal and wood these days. Clasps from blaster boxes and metal safes full of intel. Cardboard is an awkward sensation. The pink and white swirled tissue paper on the other hand… now this you know. 


Your mother is one of the most known seamstresses in the Galaxy. She travels designing clothes, fixing clothes, and tailoring for the finest and the best of the Galaxy. And, with her ability to get around, the Alliance has been using her for some intel. Not a lot, not enough to jeopardize her profession, but enough to help the rebellion. 


This is her signature tissue paper. 


You tear the paper away, exposing black silk, a bit of black tulle peeping out from below. 


“For my sunshine - mom” 


For the first time in weeks, you grin. A full on, happy grin. The little note in her handwriting is the best thing that could have happened to you recently, screw the medal ceremony. A moment of home, of what drove you into the rebellion in the first place. The love for your mother and your need to protect what was right. 


The happiness is overwhelming. It hurts your gut how much it fills inside you. But happiness is so much better than the emptiness, the worry, the anxiety, the depression you’ve been feeling. 


“Let’s get ready, yeah?” Jyn smiles. 


“WOW,” you murmur, glancing at yourself in the mirror. 


It’s been years since you’ve been dressed up. The closest to date was that one mission where you went to a salon and they braided your hair in an extravagant ‘do. This is something different, something amazing. 


The dress is simply amazing. The top half is pure silk, with a soft sweetheart neckline with a gather at the lowest point. Sleeves are off the shoulder, but perfectly fitting. From the waist down, it is tulle (with silk beneath). The tulle has a soft shimmer to it and every time you shift, a slightly different color is shown in the highlighted areas of the skirt underneath the light. 


Jyn had surprised you by showing off her unknown hair styling skills. It was such a simple hair style, a low bun, but the ease and cleanliness in which she executed it was surprising. She also surprised you by having some makeup on hand. That you will question later. 


Cassian had gotten ready much quicker, partially because he promised to go help Bodhi (the boy had never worn a suit before). The part was in hopes that he would run into Leia. He wanted to ask her something. 


“Cassian, I just don’t think suits are for me!” Bodhi whines, trying to button his shirt, and failing miserably. 

“Bodhi. It’s just one time. Then, after this, you never have to wear a suit again. Ever,” Cassian grumbles, taking over Bodhi’s weak attempt at buttoning. 


“But I feel bad if I don’t wear this again. (Y/N)’s mom made suits for all of us. I feel like I need to wear it again.” Bodhi sighs, running his fingers through his hair nervously. 


“If you ever get married, wear it then. How’s that?” Cassian finishes the last button, patting Bodhi on the chest. “Where is the bowtie?”


CASSIAN and Bodhi are the first of the Scarif group to arrive. Sure, plenty of people from around the base and diplomats and leaders are there, but they were the first of the group to arrive. They awkwardly descend onto the stage, sitting in the seats with a tag indicating their name. Luckily they are sat next to each other for the ceremony, making it much easier for the time being. 


Chirrut, Baze, and the other three quickly come in only a few minutes later. That leaves the two girls. 


Cassian turns to Bodhi, asking him some small talk question, when Jyn and you enter. Bodhi is still facing towards the entrance of the room, so he looks, a smile coming across his face. 


“Wow,” he says. 


“What?” Cassian asks, turning his head. 


It’s like everything slows. Your head that was turned to Jyn moves slowly to the front of the room, gracing Cassian with a full shot instead of a profile. His eyes are wandering around your body, looking at every part of you dressed up. The tulle skirt bounces softly with every step, mesmerizing Cassian just a little more. Every part of you seems to glow a little more as you come closer to him. 


“You okay, there, Cassian,” you giggle, sitting next to your boyfriend. 


His eyes are still trained to yours, a smile still donned on his face. “I’ve never seen you dressed up. You look amazing.”


“Oh.” You blush, turning your head to the ground. It’s true, he has never, ever seen you dressed up. You, on the other hand, have seen him dressed up a few times, mostly for missions and you always found it both arousing and amusing.
Cassian continues to watch you, eyes literally not stopping as he attempts to absorb your beauty. Every aspect of you is glowing; the black of the dress just makes you look even more glowing than before. Some of the sparkle of the under skirt leaks onto your arm that is rested on top, causing a bit of a rainbow to form. 


But he cannot stop staring. From the beautiful little bun to the perfect fit of the dress to your soft, awkward smile, everything is perfect and beautiful about your outfit. And you, of course. Everything is perfect about you. 


“I love you. And you look amazing,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss beneath your ear. “I hope to see you dressed up more.”


You tilt your head slightly. This allows you to look into Cassian’s mischievous eyes. A soft smile appears on your face. 


“Let’s get through this ceremony first. Then I’ll consider dressing up more.”
“Of course.”


Cassian sits back upright, hand in his left pocket rolling the ring in-between his fingers nervously. 


He hopes he can see you dressed up again really, really soon.

Restless

Ship: Hunk/Keith

Words: 1672

A/N: Why am I doing this I have a script to write asdfghjkl whatever, here you go!


In space, the concept of time was abstract. There were no suns or moons to relay the passage of days – the world was plunged into eternal darkness. Hell, even the units of measurements were different. Seconds, minutes and days made way for ticks, dobashes and quintants.

So Keith couldn’t tell you exactly what time he woke up. He couldn’t even say ‘in the middle of the night’ because deep in space, the word night lost meaning.

But he could tell you that it was from a frightening dream. His hair was mussed, body caked in sweat and shaking, his heart racing.

This had been going on for weeks. Ever since Shiro’s disappearance, ever since that battle of Zarkon, ever since Keith was practically forced to step up as the black paladin even though he felt in his heart that he was far from ready. He had just gotten used to the idea that he was part Galra for quiznak’s sake before the universe placed this heavy burden on his shoulders.

Next to him a body shifted slightly. Keith glanced over, scared that he’d woken them up.

“Keith…? Are you awake?”

The former red paladin would forever blame this on a moment of weakness but very stupidly he said, “No.”

Silence.

The body shifted some more, and Keith mentally cursed as it sat up completely and wholly, leaning against the back. A heavy sigh came out of his partner’s lips as he looked over at him with the kindest eyes Keith had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

“Nightmare?” Hunk asked, though it was already clear that he knew from the look of concern in his eyes.

Keith nodded anyway, scrunching the sheets in his fists. Hunk smiled softly before scooting over and wrapping his arms around him. Keith could never verbally express when he wanted physical reassurance, but Hunk could read him like a manual. He knew all his mannerisms, knew how he operated and for that Keith was grateful.

His shaking eased in his arms. It was a strange arrangement, sure. Keith would be the first to admit it. The first time he’d had this nightmare he’d woken up alone in his own room. It was unbearable, there was no one around to help him and though he mostly considered himself a lone wolf, Keith couldn’t stand the loneliness, the isolation. Out there he had a team – people he could depend on, but in his own company he had nobody to turn to.

That’s how he found himself wandering the ship during the sleeping hours. For a full week he avoided sleeping and did other things to occupy his time. He trained, he read, did anything really. But the sleepless nights had begun to take a toll on him. He suspected everyone noticed, but nobody wanted to say anything – what could they say? Everyone was dealing with the loss of Shiro in different ways.

This all changed three weeks ago. During one of Keith’s late night wanderings he had bumped into Hunk who had apparently gotten up to get himself a glass of water. Hunk could see just how wrecked Keith was and with just one enquiring sentence, Keith told him everything. He told him about the nightmares, about being afraid of waking up alone, about being alone again, about how his new position was taking a toll on him.

Hunk took all this in, and after about thirty minutes of listening and not speaking a word, a single sentence came out.

“You can sleep with me tonight.”

And that was that. It was such a simple solution, but it did wonders. At first Hunk thought it best that he slept on the floor but Keith wanted them both to be in the bed. It was a childish thought, but he figured if they were close then somehow he would be protected from his nightmares. And it helped to some extent.

Keith couldn’t help but feel bad, though. He was taking a full nights’ rest away from Hunk and that’s why he didn’t want him to wake up. But he supposed that it was too late now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunk asked quietly. “It seemed…worse than the other ones.”

Keith said nothing at first, just basking in the feeling of Hunk’s arms around him.

“It was…different. I mean, it was mostly the same but…”

Hunk said nothing, an indicator for Keith to continue after he gathered his thoughts.

“It was exactly the same dream. We were on some planet in the middle of some weird Galra war, and there was so much yelling and blood. Guns were firing everywhere and I was running towards something. Exactly the same as always. And then there was a body wearing paladin armour. There was so much blood-I couldn’t see the colour, I don’t remember it. And then…”

Hunk tightened his grip on his reassuringly, telling him without words that it was okay for him to continue but at the same time if he didn’t want to he didn’t need to.

“I was used to it. I knew if I took off the helmet I would see Shiro’s face. That’s how it was for the past few weeks. But when I did it wasn’t Shiro. It was…oh god…it was you.”

Keith closed his eyes and placed his head on Hunk’s shoulder. “The thought of Shiro dying is devastating, sure. But for some reason seeing you on the ground, dead, lifeless, I just couldn’t take it. You’re the one thing that keeps me anchored.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hunk said reassuringly. “I know it’s hard. I know, but I’m right here and I swear that as long as you want me around I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if I want you around forever?”

Hunk froze. “What?”

Keith mentally facepalmed and retracted, moving away from him. Oh my God, did I just say that? he wondered in mortification before he curled in on himself. He’d never felt his face get so red in his life. That was no better than a confession. And yeah, sure, the idea of them being together was great, perfect actually. And the thought of waking up next to the yellow paladin for the rest of his life was more than Keith could ever hope for. And the idea of Hunk dedicating his affection to him and only him was incredible. But there was no way Hunk liked him. He liked Shay, or at least had a thing for her. Even Keith noticed. He noticed very much. He was only doing this…whatever this was, because he was nice. It just a Hunk thing to do. But it would be a lie to say that Keith didn’t like him on a deeper level.

He never knew him at the garrison, he didn’t really know anybody. It was only when the whole Voltron thing started that he got to know him. Back then it was just a sort of admiration; Hunk was fun and goofy but at the same time he was fierce and passionate. Over time that admiration evolved into something more but this feeling he felt right now only came into fruition when they went onto that mission together. When Hunk let him know in his own special Hunk way that it didn’t matter what race he was, he would accept him. When he needed that reassurance the most, Hunk gave it to him.

Hunk would do anything, anything, for his friends. He’d die for them if given the opportunity. But as mentioned before, that was just a part of his personality. There was no doubt in Keith’s mind that if any of the other paladins had nightmares that he’d do exactly the same for them as he did for Keith.  This wasn’t special treatment, and it would do more harm than good if he thought so. In the end he’d have to deal with a broken heart on top of every other quiznakking thing he’s had to deal with in the last few months alone.

“Keith…”

“I think it’s best if this is the last time I sleep in your room,” he said without looking up.

“Keith, come on. Look at me.”

Keith fought the urge to, he really did, but he couldn’t help peaking up at him.

When Hunk noticed this movement, he placed his hand on top of one of Keith’s with a soft smile on his face. Everything about him was just so tender and sweet and soft…

“Forever isn’t nearly enough time.”

Keith’s heart stuttered. Did he just…?

The former red paladin unfurled himself as Hunk held onto one of his hands, threading his fingers through Keith’s. A cheeky grin formed on his face.

“Question is, are you willing to put up with me for that long?”

Keith looked at their interlaced hands in wonder. They felt so natural together, like they belonged and suddenly he wondered how he’d managed to go this long without knowing this feeling.

“I don’t…I thought…but Shay?”

Hunk chuckled. “Shay is someone I care about, sure. But I don’t really like her. I never did.”

“You like me?”

Hunk kissed the back of his hand. “Wasn’t it obvious? Pidge and Lance seemed to think so. Shiro too.”

Keith didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t know what to think. He just gawked at him, awestruck.

“Look let’s go to sleep now, okay? We can talk more about us later.”

Keith nodded numbly before lying back down. Hunk did the same, but kept his arms around him with his chest pressing into his Keith’s back. The former red paladin felt him nuzzle himself into the crook of his neck and place a soft kiss there.

“Sweet dreams, Keith.”

And for the first time in weeks, Keith wasn’t afraid to fall asleep. It was weird but he had a feeling that could actually look forward to a peaceful sleep for the rest of the night. A rare soft smile graced his features as he cuddled closer to Hunk and closed his eyes.

“You too, big guy.”

Can’t Take the Sky from Me

Summary: Shiro was just trying to escape the ever expanding Galra Empire. He hadn’t planned on picking up any passengers along the way. (Baby Paladins AU)

Notes: If you prefer the AO3 format, you can find this story here.


He found the boy huddled behind a dumpster, his knees skinned and wearing a shirt three times too big for him. When he realized Shiro had spotted him, he shrank against the wall, cramming the nubby end of a candy bar in his mouth with grubby hands and pulling a dull pocket knife out of his tattered shoes, pointing it in shaking hands at Shiro.

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dontfeelsogood  asked:

I have so many asks for you based off your post for gang 3! First one is: Damien getting seasick on way to France

A/N: This has taken me a ridiculously long time to get to writing, but actually I had a really good time writing this - esp with lil lovely Jude! I hope you enjoy! ❤️


It was new and exciting. Damian had never been on a ferry before – let alone an overnight one! Their parents had decided that they would drive down to Hull and board the ferry crossing to Calais, then they’d be able to drive to the places in Northern France that they wished, rather than flying and relying on public transport. They’d considered the Eurostar train as well, but again that didn’t leave them with quite so many options when they got to the other side.
Emilia had been going on about it for weeks, talking about how she was going to explore through the corridors and find the buffet car – because for some reason the concept that a ferry wasn’t like a train hadn’t quite transferred into her mind. Neither Jude nor Damian had thought to correct her though, the idea of exploring through the cabins held about as much appeal to them as it did for her.

Damian had even foregone the right to argue over the front seat of the car (especially after the puking incident with Jude the last time), as the prospect of a new adventure on a ferry was much more exciting than the front seat of the car. The excitement that seemed to light up Emilia’s whole face, as they parked the car in the vast underbelly of the ferry, was similar to how Damian felt – a fluttering of anticipation deep inside his belly.

Some of that anticipation had dropped off by the time they reached the cabin that they would be sleeping in that night. When his dad mentioned it would be ‘cosy’ Damian hadn’t quite reckoned that it would be quite so squashed. With all beds folded down there was barely room to move in the cabin, and Damian had allowed Jude and Emilia to have the top bunks, simply to keep the peace in such a cramped space. Just as he was folding his pyjamas and laying them on the pillow of his bed, he felt a strange sensation. Starting with a swooshing, rushing in his ears and then travelling through the rest of his head and body.

“What was that?” He asked, pausing in unpacking and sure that everyone else must have felt it also.

“What was what?” Jude replied, poking his head over the edge of the bed above Damian’s.

“That whoosh feeling?” Damian said, but Jude simply raised his eyebrows, a badly hidden smirk on his face.

“I didn’t feel anything…” Jude commented, almost vaulting from the edge of his bed and landing gracefully on the floor, but their dad had placed his hand on the wall of the cabin.

“I think it was the engines starting,” he said, looking at Damian as he removed his hand. “We must be moving.”

“Are we?” Emilia chirruped, leaping down from her bed and not landing quite so gracefully as Jude had. “Can we go and see?”

“Finish unpacking first missy, then we’ll all go and have a look around,” he commanded firmly.

“But I’m finished!” Emilia protested.

“Then you’ll just have to wait for your brothers,” he told her. “They’ll just be a few minutes.” She sighed theatrically and crossed her arms over her chest. Damian bent back down into his bag, unpacking his pyjamas while hiding from the glare of his younger sister; once again as he rose his head felt like he was swirling and the ground underneath him was unstable.

“Whoa Damo, your face looks funny,” Emilia said, and as she said this both of his parents turned from where they were unpacking.

“Shut up Emilia,” Damian tried to sound fierce but it came out timid and quiet.

“Hey! We don’t tell people to shut up!” She answered indignantly.

“How about we leave the unpacking for now and go and have a look around?” Their mum suggested, and Damian spotted her giving a meaningful glance to his dad.

“Yes!” Emilia agreed, racing to the door, then his dad piped up:

“Damian and I will catch you up in a minute,” he motioned for Jude and Emilia to go with their mother – and at this Damian would have been concerned, had it not been for that sensation sweeping through him again, and this time not stopping at his head. It felt like a cold wind that settled in the pit of his stomach and made him feel uncomfortable.

“Now the men can finish unpacking without disturbance!” His dad joked, giving Damian a sideways glance as he laid out his own pyjamas.

“Yeah,” Damian muttered, but now he was sure he could feel every pitch and sway of the boat underneath him.

“Once we’re done, we can take a wander around,” he assured, “perhaps we could meet the rest of them up on the deck.”

“Sounds good,” Damian was steadying himself on the rail of the fold down bed. In the five minutes that the boat had been moving he’d managed to go from excited to suddenly dreading the rest of the trip – perhaps he’d get used to the strange motion? Emilia and Jude hadn’t seemed to even notice. He tried to fold his pyjama top one handed, but in the end just dumped it down and turned to sit on the edge of the bed, hoping that he’d hide it from his dad’s view.

“Is that you ready?” His dad asked, and Damian was sure he’d noticed the rather untidy pie he’d left on top of his pillow but had decided to say nothing about it.

“Yes,” he nodded, “let’s go please.”

If Damian had thought the cabin was bad, the corridors that they had to go through made him feel ten times worse. He was sure they must have been heated up to a tropical level to remind the people returning to mainland Europe from the UK that not everywhere was Baltic cold, but now Damian could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck and his legs wobbling underneath him.

“I think if we go this way,” his dad was looking a little confused as he looked at the sign mounted on the wall which stated the shop plaza was straight ahead when clearly there was a solid wall preventing their way. “Perhaps they all use nautical directions on board.”

“Maybe,” Damian agreed, he’d been taking refuge at a tiny porthole window that was letting him see the rather grey wash of the sky outside.

“Come on, let’s go and find them,” his dad coaxed, and Damian practically had to tear himself away. “I bet they’ll be in the shops…” Damian hummed non-committally. He wished he was still back at the window as now he definitely didn’t feel well. Inside him his stomach was making little swishing movements that he felt sure would correlate to the motion of the ship. “Although I bet Emilia has found the food hall…” The mention of food made Damian’s stomach do a strange kind of tumble, and he had to bite back the urge to burp that was rising in his throat. He hadn’t realised he’d stopped in the corridor with his hand supporting him on the wall until he felt his dad’s hand squeeze gently at his shoulder.

“Damo? Are you feeling ill?” He asked gently; Damian started to nod but was cut short by a weak gag forcing up his throat and he clapped his hand across his mouth. “Alright son, let’s get some fresh air.” Damian felt his dad’s strong hand take his, and for a few seconds the grip made him feel secure – knowing that his dad was going to lead him to safety. Then his stomach squeezed again and he fought hard against a heave.

The first blast of cold salty sea air stung at Damian’s eyes and airways; the wind fiercer than he’d expected as he climbed the metal staircase up towards the deck. His stomach had frozen into a solid lump inside him as the chilly wind whipped around them. His dad was still holding firmly onto him as he steered him towards the outer edge of the deck.

“Hold on here,” his dad released his hand to wrap it round the railing, then pointed out across the water, “and focus your eye right on the horizon.”

“Okay,” Damian did as he was told, his sweaty hands slipping on the cold rail.

“I’m going to let your mum know where we are,” he told Damian, “you just hang on there and take deep breaths.”

If this was what seasickness felt like, Damian could understand why people spoke of it with such distinct dread. Every time he felt like his stomach had settled a little, a movement from under his feet sent it roiling inside him again.

 “How’re you feeling now?” His dad returned to the railing; Damian turned to look at him then felt the swooshing discomfort through his whole body as he took his gaze away from the horizon.

 “Nauseous,” Damian answered honestly, affixing his eyes on the horizon again.

 “It sometimes takes just a little while to get your sea legs,” he tried to make a joke out of it, but Damian wasn’t feeling much like laughing. Those few brief seconds that he’d looked away had caused to go into full scale rebellion again, and his mouth felt overly watery.

“What ‘bout my sea stomach?” Damian spat over the edge of the railing and ignored the look of reprimand that followed.

“You just have to acclimatise a bit,” he rested his big hand onto Damian’s shoulder and gave a small chuckle.

“I don’t feel like I’m settling at all…” He groaned, moving one of his hands to his belly.

“Give it time,” he said calmly, but Damian’s stomach felt like the water down below – crashing and swirling.

Hrrruuuuub!!” The retch hit Damian hard and he doubled forward, his stomach banging painfully against the rail.

“Or maybe not…” His dad muttered as Damian sucked great gasps of air in to try and prevent actually being sick.

“Mum, mum! I found them, they’re here!” Emilia’s voice cut through the wind and Damian groaned as he heard it.

“Oh no, dad, I don’t want them to see me,” Damian petitioned, trying to swallow down his nausea as he clung onto the rail.

“Don’t worry,” his dad reassured, “I think your mum has warned them that you’re not feeling well…” This assurance didn’t make Damian feel any better, especially not as he sensed someone standing to the other side of him at the railing.

“How’s he bearing up?” He heard his mum ask over the rush of the wind.

“You look positively green Damo,” Jude’s voice came quietly from beside him, and he chanced a glance to his left to see his younger brother staring nervously at him.

“I don’t think – I like – boats,” he replied, swallowing fiercely.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” Jude told him calmly, and Damian appreciated that his brother was trying to make him feel even a little better.

Out in the open water Damian watched as a seagull landed on the water’s surface, looking quite at ease as the waves buffeted it whichever way they desired. As he watched it he felt like he was being buffeted about from the inside. He leant forward over the rail, opening his mouth to let a thin trickle of spit drip from his mouth, feeling so lousy that he honestly did not care what he looked like.

“Maybe you should go back inside with Emilia and Jude?” His dad was suggesting to his mum. “It looks like we might be here for a little while yet…”

“Come on guys,” their mum encouraged, but Jude didn’t move from next to Damian.

“I’m staying,” he said, almost petulantly.

“Suit yourself,” she replied, “come on Emilia.”

“But I wanna see Damo puke his guts out too!” Emilia’s voice whined, but got fainter as their mum led her away. Damian’s stomach was doing tumble turns inside him, and he was praying that he wouldn’t puke his guts out.

Biiikkkrrrrr!” Damian heaved again, feeling his stomach squeezing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jude jumped back in alarm, obviously not anticipated the ferocity of Damian’s retch. “You should’ve – gone – with mum…” Damian’s voice was thick as he hung over the railing – waiting on the inevitable.

“I wanted to stay with you,” Jude replied, and there was an audible tremble in his voice. “You would if it was me.”

Uuurrrnnngggh…” Damian groaned, but he knew Jude was right.

“You’re doing fine Damian,” his dad encouraged. “Just keep taking deep breaths and looking at the horizon.”

“It’s not gonna – work,” Damian mumbled, swallowing back a mouthful of hot, sticky saliva.

“If you think you need to be sick, let it happen,” his dad’s voice was calm, but Damian felt anything but calm.

“I’m gonna – bruuuuuhhuuuurrr!” Damian barrelled forward over the rail, a splash of acid hitting the back of his mouth. Underneath him, his knees gave way and his dad’s strong hands gripped his arms to hold him upright.

“Okay son, I’ve got you, don’t worry!” His dad said, Damian closed his eyes, able to feel the start of another retch working up from his chest.

“How can I help?” Jude’s panicked voice squeaked.

“Here, you gently rub or pat Damian’s back,” his dad advised, and Damian was aware of a gentle pressure in the small of his back which began to rub along his spine. “That’s it!”

Damian’s eyes snapped open as that last bit of pressure forced liquid up his throat:

Huuuuueeeerrrruuuulllllggghhh!” His breakfast, and the burger and milkshake he’d eaten at the service station, left him in a gush and fell sickeningly into the ocean below. “Hbbbluuuuuh!” Jude was still patting back and Damian’s eyes stung as the acid burnt his throat. He was still able to distinguish the dairy taste from the banana milkshake he’d had earlier, and that made him retch harder, bringing up another wave of puke.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you…” His dad repeated. “Jude and I are here.”

Hikkkuuurrrfff….” Damian was so weak he sagged against the railing, and a gurgling mouthful of sick hit the edge of the boat and splashed down to their feet. “Bruuuaaap…” The belch that followed was emptier, and the sloshing going on in Damian’s belly was beginning to die down – perhaps because there was nothing left in his belly to slosh about. He took great gasps of air in, forcing back further urges to burp; Jude’s hand was still rubbing across his back, and it felt really nice.

“That’s it bud, deep breaths…” Every breath in that Damian took meant he was one more away from vomiting again.

“You’re going to be fine,” Jude whispered into his big brother’s ear. That nearly made Damian tear up, he managed to straighten himself so his stomach wasn’t pressed awkwardly into the rail.

“How are you feeling now?” His dad asked, relinquishing some of the tightness of his grip as Damian was able to support himself.

Empty…” Damian responded. “Still queasy.”

“I think it might be best for you to have an early night once you’ve had some air,” he suggested.

“But what if I feel sick again?” Damian asked in alarm, concerned about going below deck again.

“I’ll find something to go next to your bed, just in case okay?” He offered.

“Okay,” Damian nodded.

“And I’ll stay with you!” Jude said kindly.

“Thanks Jude,” Damian smiled, “but if I can’t go exploring, I’d rather you did with Emilia – then you can tell me all about it.”

“You sure?” Jude asked uncertainly.

“Positive,” Damian said, giving a weak smile to his brother.

Notes

Just a little Doctor x Rose fic I hammered out this morning…the idea popped in my head and I had to get it out. :) I wrote it in a bit of a rush, so sorry…it’s not very polished.

Nine x Rose, Ten x Rose, Twelve X Rose - MultiEra

Rated G - 1526 words - read it on ao3! 

Originally posted by thatcatchingfeeling


One of the things that the Doctor noticed shortly after he brought her on board was that Rose wrote a lot.

It wasn’t anything substantial, really, she certainly wasn’t composing sonnets or writing a novel. They were mostly reminders to herself, little lists or little notes quickly jotted down on whatever paper she could find to help her remember things she may forget. But the Doctor was somewhat less than pleased the first time he found a note taped to the Tardis’ refrigerator a couple of weeks after he took her on board, reminding them to pick up milk when they stopped off on Earth.

 Domestics.

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25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS WITH JINSSMILE: DECEMBER 21

State Fair

WORD COUNT: 1149

SUMMARY: You take Taehyung to the state fair since he’s never been before, and you’re reminded of just how much of a child he is at heart.

Originally posted by averageoppa

“Taehyung!! Calm down!” you chuckled. “We’re almost there, I promise.” “Sorry y/n. I’m just so excited!” Taehyung said as his feet tapped the floorboard of the passenger’s seat. You actually thought it was super cute of him to be so excited about going to the state fair. He’d never been, and you thought it’d be a cute date idea.

When you got there, he practically burst from the car. “Taehyung wait for me!!” You yelled across the parking lot as you tried to catch up. Once you got inside, Tae was surprisingly waiting for you at the entrance. “I thought I lost you there for a sec.” You pecked his lips. “Well it’d be no fun without you.” he winked at you. You couldn’t help the blush flooding your cheeks as you smiled to the concrete. “OKAY LET’S GOOOO!!!” Just when you thought he could be calm, there he was, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the rides.

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All Through The Night (Star Lord Reader Insert)

this one probably wasn’t that good but it was honestly so much fun to write. enjoy!———————————————————————————————————

“You should really come with us. It’ll be fun!” You were currently trying to get the man to come have some drinks with you and the rest of the Guardians.

“I can’t. I’m so close, I can feel it in my gut,” he elucidated, squinting even harder at the screen. Quill was sitting at the table, staring at the giant monitor as he had all day. While he insisted something was wrong on Morag, you assured him time and time again that everything was fine and that he just needs to relax. But, Peter was always stubborn and hard headed and refused to listen, so you decided it was best to let him wear himself out. You were getting a little worried, however, and walked over to him. Standing behind him, you leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your cheek to his.

“You’re working yourself way too hard, sweetie,” you warned. He chuckled lightly and rubbed your arms tenderly.

“I’m fine. Go have a good time.” You were still concerned for him, but you chose to let him work on his own. Giving him one final kiss on his scratchy facial hair, you released him from the embrace and strolled towards the exit. The rest of the group was already there waiting for you. “Keep an eye on her please. Seriously,” Quill called. You rolled your eyes and smiled. He was always a little too possessive of you and, to be honest, you were kind of surprised he’d even let you go out in the first place without his protection. Yes, on occasion, you have been known to have a little too much to drink but it was nothing you couldn’t take on your own.

“I can handle myself, Peter. I’m not a baby,” you assured him. Still, he sent a knowing look to the rest of the group members. You blew a kiss in his direction before hopping off the ship and onto the earth of the planet you were currently visiting.

At the actual bar, you immediately headed to the center to dance. Maybe you’d gotten it from Peter, but whenever music started playing, you couldn’t help yourself. It hadn’t even been 30 minutes and Rocket, Drax, and Groot were already tipsy and making bets. Gamora was sitting in the corner and had already broken about 3 guys’ arms for trying to coax her. You tried to get her to dance, but it only ended in a harsh no. Although, when she wasn’t looking, you watched her sway gently to the heavy beat.

When you finally thought it was time for drinks, you went pretty hard. Shots, vodka soda, some weird purple thing, and just about anything with hard liquor in it. You had a cycle: drinks, dancing, repeat.

By now, you were so drunk that you hadn’t even realized some gross stranger was grinding up on you until you felt sweaty hands on your hips. So with one swift knee to the groin, you left the man clutching his privates and headed towards to door to get some air and cleanse yourself of the disgusting person.

“Hey,” a voice slurred. You turned to see Rocket lying on a tabletop with his small feet hanging off the edge. “You can’t go anywhere. Lover Boy said we have to keep an eye on you.” He drunkenly flung his limbs around and eventually let them fall in a slump. Waving him off, opened the door and felt the cool breeze of the outdoors.

“I’m fine, I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get some fresh air,” you promised. After standing out in front of the building for 15 minutes watching intoxicated people stumble out and breathing in air that was tainted by smoke or alcoholic odor, your stomach started growling. ‘Food would be fucking amazing right about now.’ Your mind wandered off to lands filled with tasty treats until it was unbearable to go another moment without some form of sustenance. And with that, you staggered off into the night in search of it.

*****************************************************************************************************

The ships door opened and closed with a loud thud, pulling Peter out of his trance. There were faint rumbles and the sound of things being knocked over. Quill just rolled his eyes and waited for you to enter his bunk and kiss him and try to get in his pants, only to have him put you to bed like a little child. But after 10 minutes without any sight of you, Peter was genuinely confused. He got up and walked towards the kitchen, for he knew you always like to eat after some heavy drinking. But you weren’t in the kitchen. Or the bathroom. Or your bunk. So after searching around the ship twice and even three times, the anxiety started to flow over him. Quill walked to Rocket’s bunk, his footsteps heavy and his heart racing with worry.

“Hey, where is she?” he asked, trying to lower the panic in his tone. The small raccoon groaned loudly and sat up on his bed rubbing his temples.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Peter was quickly tired of his sarcasm. It was definitely not the time.

“The other female who lives here and who just so happened to be out with you and is now not present on the ship. Enough already, where is she?”

Rocket sighed, but didn’t answer, looking at the floor with his paws now folded together. Quill immediately started getting more nervous, his heart rate picking up even faster now.

“Where. Is. She?” he asked again, jaw tightly clenched. Once again, Rocket was quiet. “ROCKET!” Peter yelled.

“I DON’T KNOW!” he snapped back. Quill’s breathing was heavy and his chest heaved with anger. He should’ve known better than to trust a group of idiots to look after you. How do you lose a woman?!

“What happened?!” Quill’s voice was at a shouting level now. But how he could remain calm when you were missing? The worst thoughts started tumbling through his mind. On a planet as scummy as this one, you could’ve been taken. Or worse, dead. Oh God, the ideas of you being in trouble were killing him slowly.

“Look, she said she was going out to get some fresh air and that’d she be right back and she never came back.”

“So you didn’t go look for her?!” Peter’s eyes blazed with fury, his skin hot and his teeth gritted.

“We looked everywhere for her!” He couldn’t listen to this anymore. Walking out into the cabin, Peter’s first instinct was to break things. He flipped chairs and tables, smashed dishes, knocked things off shelves, kicked and punched everything in sight. The whole thing would be a mess to clean up tomorrow, but he didn’t care. Gamora rushed out and grabbed his shoulders before he could destroy anything else. But he shook her off roughly, his rage fueling his adrenaline and continued on his rampage. Then, a much stronger Drax came out, grabbing him and throwing him to the ground.

“You must calm yourself!” the tough brute said harshly. Peter got up, brushing himself off and pushed past all of them bitterly, grabbing his infamous leather jacket.

“Where are you going?” Gamora hollered after him. But the door to the ship had already slammed shut and he was off into the night.

*****************************************************************************************************

“Ma’am, are you ready yet?” the cashier asked, obviously pissed. You’d spent 10 minutes staring at the giant menu above the register. So many options. “Ma’am?”

“Shut up, alright? I’m deciding…” you snapped. Currently at 24 hour eatery, you were aggravating the shit out of a guy. The rest of the restaurant was empty and the fluorescent lights flickered ominously. But you didn’t care how sketchy this place was, food was a major priority and it was the only thing open. Deciding among the small variety of greasy foods, another 5 minutes went by before you picked something called a “Loaded Sandwich”.

“That’ll be 15 units,” the cashier said glumly. Your eyebrows knitted together in pure astonishment.

“I’m sorry, 15 units?! For that piece of shit?! I demand a lower price!” you argued. Your voice was loud and echoed throughout the store, as the alcohol had made you completely plastered.

“Lady, you either need to calm down or leave.” You smacked your hands against the cold countertop, getting right in the kids’ face.

You need to get to the kitchen and make me a sandwich!”

“Do you have 15 units?” he retorted, obviously trying to keep his cool.

“No…”

“Well, then I can’t make you a sandwich.”

“I just want a sandwich, man. I’m so fricken’ hungry,” you whined.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“PLEASE?!”

“LOOK, IF I MAKE YOU A SANDWICH, WILL YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE?!” the cashier screamed back. You backed up, surprised at the sudden outburst.

“…Yes.”

“FINE!” Storming off to the kitchen, the cashier got to work. Because you were so heavily intoxicated, you started chanting “Loaded Sandwich” as he continued cooking. The scent of the food was filling your nostrils and your mouth was watering uncontrollably.

“Hurry it up in there, son. I ain’t getting any younger,” you called, laughing to yourself. God damnit, you were so funny. Cashier Carl mumbled something to himself, but you were too focused on the smell. What the hell is in that? Heaven?

About 2 minutes later, Cashier Carl came out with the sandwich wrapped in paper and on a disposable plate. You cheered and whooped obnoxiously, seeing a little grin playing at his lips.

“Oh my word, is that a smile I see?” you giggled, putting your hand on your chest dramatically. He immediately put back on his serious facade.

“You got your food, now go.” He pointed towards the door and you started unwrapping your sandwich, peeling back the paper.

“Hold on, my good sir. I gotta test out the product first,” you explained, sticking your finger in his face. The sandwich was pretty huge, so you took a big bite out of it. The flavor was so delicious and made your taste buds tingle. It was spicy and tangy, and the bread was nice and crunchy. You had no idea what was in it, but wow, it was definitely one of the best things you’d ever consumed.

“Oh fuck, that is good. Gold star for you,” you spoke, with your mouthful and you started sucking on your fingers. Another smile was starting to appear and you sent him a suggestive glance. He rolled his eyes and pointed toward the door again. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Are you sure about that?” Cashier Carl asked sarcastically. But you ignored him and made your way towards the door, opening it and hearing the little bell.

“See ya later!” you waved childishly. And once again, you were gone.

*****************************************************************************************************

Nowhere in sight. Peter had walked up and down streets, entered and left stores, and even returned to the bar on multiple occasion on the rare chance that maybe you’d returned. This was going to be harder, since not many places were open at this time, so you could’ve been anywhere. He was starting to get flustered with frustration, for the night was slowly turning into morning. It had been at least 2 hours now and still no luck. But then it occurred to Quill that maybe he needed to actually stop and think instead of blindly wandering through the city.

“Okay, so where would she go first?” he wondered out loud to himself. Then it hit him like a train. “Oh my God.” Peter started running in and out of the few operating food places near the bar, until he came into a weird looking place with creepy lights and an even creepier kid working the register.

“Can I help you?” the weird kid asked.

“Yeah, have you seen a girl about this tall. She’s got-” Peter started rambling.

“Look guy, I don’t know where your girlfriend is, okay? The only person that came in here was some drunk chick who kept screaming until I gave her a free sandwich.” Quill grinned and threw his head back, letting out a huge sigh.

“Yes, that’s her!” Peter exclaimed excitedly. “Do you know which direction she went?” The kid pointed towards the window and to the left and Peter quickly ran out of the store, hoping to catch up with you.

*****************************************************************************************************

The breeze was so nice. The heat from the spice of the sandwich was making you sweat a little bit. You still weren’t even halfway through it, the thing was so big. Ha, that’s what she said. You kicked your feet back and forth, listening to the water rush underneath you.

It probably wasn’t the safest place to be sitting, on the ledge of a bridge with a dangerous sewage river underneath, but you felt so free. If you closed your eyes, it was almost like you were flying. Like a bird with an awesome sandwich and a tight dress. Then you felt the air against the skin of your right foot.

“Oh shit,” you whispered, watching one of your heels fall into the water with a ploosh. Shrugging, you kicked off your other shoe and let it land in the river, returning to your sandwich.

“THERE YOU ARE, JESUS CHRIST!” a familiar voice shouted. You whipped your head around until you saw Peter running towards you.

“Star Lord, my hero! Come sit with me,” you patted a spot next to you.

“How ‘bout we get off the bridge before we fall?” he spoke softly. You set your food down, swung your legs over, and hopped down to the ground. He grabbed your face and checked you over, his eyes filled with fret. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I am honestly so great right now,” you explained enthusiastically. Laughing lightly, he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was deep as if he hadn’t seen you in 10 years. After about a minute or two, he let you face go and released a deep breath.

“I was so worried about you.” You poked him in the chest and giggled.

“I told you I could handle myself.”

“Yeah, you are never drinking ever again,” he said seriously. “Are you ready to head back?”

Looking out on the water, you nodded slowly. He walked a few steps but your feet were glued to the ground.

“What’s wrong?” You squinted at the body of water.

“My shoes are gone.”

“Where’d they go?”

“In the river.” Quill let out a sigh and turned, crouching down a little.

“I’ll carry you.” You smiled widely and jumped up on his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His strong hands locked under your thighs and you were on your way.

You and your valiant steed were halfway back to the ship when your eyes widened.

“Oh shit!” you gasped.

“What?”

“I left my sandwich on the bridge,” you complained. It was such a bomb-ass sandwich too.

“I will personally get you another one later,” Peter helped, yawning slightly as the early streams of morning light peered over the horizon. You snuggled your face next to his, as you had just a few hours earlier.

“I love you so much.”

Speech Therapy (One Shot)

Pairing: Movav

Warnings: It’s fluffy!

Summary: Moving Mogar in with Rusty might not have been the best idea. The two conspiracy theorists  influence each other to be even more paranoid. This result in a new language which would have just been funny if Rusty had;t insisted on using it everywhere to protect “ secrets”. Class is in session with lots of bevs. ( Idea collaborated with the amazing  gotmogared seriously they have great ideas!)

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danaya x aquil headcanons

THIS SHIP SAILS ITSELF SINCE 2005 AND I’M WE’RE GOING DOWN WITH IT

bunga ng pagwawala pag-uusap namin ni @girl-in-a-well sa twitter just after an episode of the reboot bc we deserve more backstory/screentime on how these two interacted back in enca while amihan and raquim stayed in the mortal world i mean there mUST be a relationship build-up???

[insert the iconic frustrated I LOVE YOU]

  • aquil vowed to love defending lireo and the whole of encantadia before anything, or anyone, else. he kept this vow for all his life, until that vow itself was changed and added anew.
  • he didn’t know it at first, didn’t notice what was already there. but he did fall in love the moment she was born. what he dismissed as admiration and loyalty at the youngest sang'gre was actually something else, something deeper.
  • baby danaya cried very much often. mine-a tried every dama there was to care for her child, but to no avail. it was only in the ynang reyna’s arms did danaya cease crying. and only when alena played with her.
  • mine-a strolled around the palace one day, carrying danaya, with alena and a few damas following close by. guards kept watch, and some carried news of sapiryans paying a visit to the queen of lireo. mine-a attended to the visit immediately, leaving danaya to one of the damas. danaya woke and cried, despite alena’s efforts to distract her.
  • aquil was there too; at ease, awaiting further orders if there happened to be. and alena, ever the kind one, asked him if he wanted to hold danaya. he declined politely, saying he did not know how to carry a child, but alena persisted. in the end he followed the sang'gre’s request and gently, like a prized glass, took danaya from the dama’s arms. he was afraid he might let her fall, or that his hold on her might be too hard, but he did well. at least, that’s what the baby thought. as he looked at the tiny face and twinkling eyes of the child, danaya stopped crying. and looked at him too.
  • mine-a returned to that part of the palace a moment later. and she knew, right then and there, that aquil was not going to be just a soldier forever.
  • danaya grew up to be the playful and adventurous girl she was. she had a chubby figure. pirena always teased her, but she never minded. once the youngest sang'gre learned how to speak more eloquently, there was no stopping her. she had a curious mind, and she wouldn’t relax until her questions had been answered. she followed damas, imaw, and soldiers everywhere at home.
  • as aquil headed for his training with muros, danaya tailed behind. he turned a few times to see who it was following him, but there was no one. danaya managed to hide behind his back, struggling not to giggle. he walked on. when he turned again, he caught her; the giggle escaping from her lips.
  • she asked him where he was going and what he’d be doing. he said he’d be getting ready for a fight. she wanted to know how to fight, but he promised he’d teach her soon enough if she promised she wouldn’t follow him secretly again. they settled on the agreement.
  • danaya still followed him around, though. see, she somewhat developed a little crush on him lately. she still asked him questions. and he still gave her the answers she needed; not complete truths, but enough to satisfy her curiosity. one instance she told him she’d marry him someday. he laughed, patted her head, and said he’d await that day. she held on to his promise.
  • getting older, danaya learned how to sneak out the palace and wander aimlessly in the nearby forest; where she felt most connected with. during one of her walks, she ran into some bandits. they attempted to hurt her. she fought back with whatever skill she had at the time. she kicked, punched, screamed for help. aquil came to the rescue. the bandits gone, he scolded her out of worry and fear. he almost lost her, and they almost lost a sang'gre. he blamed himself for the most part. but after that incident did he make another vow of protecting danaya at all costs.
  • she stopped following him around, or the others, after. she stayed put inside the palace and rarely spoke. mine-a and her sisters noticed this. when aquil tried to start small talk, oblivious that she felt cold, she simply ignored him or replied sarcastically. he did not give up, however. when he brought up the topic of training her how to fight, much earlier than her sisters, she regained her happy disposition and hugged him.
  • that one promise fulfilled, they grew closer as friends. much closer than her relationship with pirena or alena, or her dama, even. when amihan and a bigger threat from hathoria came, aquil returned to his original vow. danaya understood the obligation. and she understood she should not cater to the feelings she kept.
  • she grew into a young beautiful diwata. aquil stayed young, but his mind grew older. his heart grew softer. he watched her become independent. he observed her beauty and strength from afar. sometimes they spoke, but only for the sake of civility. danaya still held on to the promise of marrying him someday. aquil had a lot of things in his mind; another upcoming war, but he did not forget. he never did. although, danaya thought he did. and it ached her. just a bit.
The Taming of the Shrew

          In some ways being with the Clave was a lot like being in the Circle. Unarmed and watched, there was that difference, but the meetings were pretty much the same, planning at war rooms, pouring over maps and laying out strategies.  The Clave stormed Chernobyl on his second day there, his directions leading them on as Alec himself sat blind at Lydia’s office, answering to pointed questions and refraining from offering his commentary unless it was specifically asked for.

They will be waiting for something, but not this.

          He had betrayed the Circle and ran away with Jace, true, but even so no one would expect a Lightwood to actually defect to the Clave. To give it all up as he did. It was the best chance the Clave had in months, years- Ever since the beginning of this very war and Alec listened carefully for any mention of his parents’ names, bracing himself for the worst.

          Maryse Lightwood killed two shadowhunters from the Clave before getting away. Alec had a hard time holding back a smirk as he heard, it was his mother after all, and with his betrayal pounding at their very door Maryse and Robert would be working extra hard, proving themselves.

          As Alec suspected, the surprise attack was hardly enough to bring down the Circle of Raziel, though it did put a dent in it’s structure. Without the labs it would be nearly impossible to make forsakens, he had assured Lydia, and having the base compromised would push them into their backup plan. The Morning Star ship was meant to sail only once they had the Mortal Cup, but it was clearly the best option without Chernobyl.

“They’ll be untrackable in the water, but all that was planned goes out the window,” Alec concluded, it was bound to make them sloppy

          Lydia nearly smiled herself as the reports proved him true: The Circle retreated towards the Pripyat river.   

          After that he was allowed to call his sister. Isabelle’s voice was a mixture of worry and anger on the phone and Alec could only imagine what it looked like to her. His request for her to stay awake, their very home under attack, Izzy’s hurt tone as she put it all together, It was you… 

“I’m sorry,” Alec pleaded, and he meant it“I had no choice.”

“Все для него,” it wasn’t a question. “I hope he is worth it.”

           And Alec really had no right to ask, but he still did, if not for himself for the fact that no matter how angry Isabelle was, how right she was to hate right then, she was still good. Better than he would ever be. “Join me,” he said instead, and silence was the only answer he got for the longest time, “I made a deal. They will have you, if you want, no charges.” 

          Isabelle might never have been anywhere near the Clave before, but she knew her brother, knew him enough to imagine exactly how much he had to have given up to be able to make her such an offer. If she said no, this would be the last time she would ever hear of him, unless they were to meet in battle and that thought alone was enough to make up her mind. Even if the proposition had already been tempting, the idea of being on a different side than Alec, of seeing him in a fight-

“Okay.”

          His sigh of relief was audible even through the phone. After that it was more planning, a meeting point and another armed escort, Lydia promised to go get his sister personally. Alec didn’t trust her, not with his life, but he trusted her to keep her word; if nothing else, to assure his continuous cooperation. The success of their first mission wasn’t lost on him. 

          Izzy came in that night and Alec finally felt like he could breathe a little easier for the first time since he had left Ukraine. The rest of his week was a bit of a blur. Lydia was incessant in her interrogations and by the end of it Alec was sure he had told her everything there was to know about the inner workings of the Circle. Her office was covered in maps, blueprints, anything he could remember really. It felt like he spent more time there than anywhere else in the Institute. 

          An armed guard followed him absolutely everywhere, which really consisted of his assigned room, Izzy’s, Lydia’s office and the bathroom. He didn’t really feel like exploring much, the nasty looks he got whenever someone crossed his path didn’t do much in terms of helping with that. They either looked scared of angry and it made Alec wonder if the guard was actually there for everyone else’s benefit or his own. Just in case someone snapped.

          So Alec didn’t wander and that meant he also hardly saw Jace. The whole reason for him to end up at the Institute in the first place and all he got being there were glimpses. He knew where Jace’s room was by then ( four doors down his corridor, to the left ) but he didn’t dare got there, not while there was still a guard following him around. The fact Jace hadn’t come to see him was also telling. Either the blond didn’t want to call attention to their connection anymore than it was already done or he simply didn’t want to see him, Alec respected both, so he kept to himself. 

          Jace knew where to find him.

          At the end of the second week the guard was relieved from door duty at night, Alec was allowed to lock his room from the inside - not that ha hadn’t been doing so every night with a rune already. Still the small liberty was all the invitation he needed to venture down the hall and all the way to Jace’s bedroom once the corridors were empty. Screw space, he’d waited long enough.

          Bare feet padded quietly across the floor, a silencing rune in place just in case. The door wasn’t locked, and Alec made a mental note of pointing out the imprudence in that before closing it once more and stalking in. He felt awkward in the borrowed clothes that were nothing like gear, sweatpants and a snug black t-shirt, nothing like himself as he approached Jace’s bed. The darkness made it impossible to actually analyze the room, but Alec could still make out the shape under the covers enough to reach for his shoulder. 

“Jace.” 

drakefeathers  asked:

PROMPT OK: u know how cass ran away from her dad and wandered around a lot before she ended up in gotham so. lost days jay meets young cass while he's travelling around the world training :)))

So you know how I had this whole talk with you about how Jason and Cass would probably end in blood and tears and it would be messy and sad?

Yeah I lied have some fluff. 

Jason could feel the Lazarus Pit sometimes, curling up in his stomach like a sleeping monster, sending violent waves through his body every time it rolled over. He stared at his hand pensively, trying to remember what it had looked like before, before the Pit had gotten into his mind and body and changed him.

Sometimes he felt burned and scraped everywhere, as if he was still in the aftermath of the explosion. At night, he dreamed of drowning in graveyard dirt and Lazarus Pits. He remembers, vaguely, crying out for Bruce, fingernails bleeding and broken and every inch of his body aching.

He felt it now, staring down the barrel of his gun to see a fiercely snarling kid, crouching over the beaten and battered bodies of multiple higher end fighters.

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anonymous asked:

I'd love a prompt with Jim not being behind a Spones romance at first--maybe he's afraid they won't have time for him, maybe he thinks they're incompatible-- but then he comes around when he sees how deeply they care for each other.

[This was interesting to think about because usually I assume the opposite–that Jim is 100% in love with them being in love. I still had fun with it, so thanks for the prompt!

Send me prompts!]


Kirk frowned at the little gaggle of ensigns, yeomen, and lieutenants clustered in the hallway. They were all surrounding Chekov, who was whispering and passing around a PADD. Kirk’s frown deepened, and he wandered into the milieu as if he had just noticed them.

“Gentlemen,” he said, nodding to everyone regardless of gender. “How go your duties?”

He saw various states of panic and the crowd dispersed like a scattershot, leaving Chekov holding the PADD with a wide-eyed look. “Captain,” he said nervously.

“Mr. Chekov,” Kirk said back. “You wouldn’t be starting up another illegal gambling circuit, would you?”

“I-I would never, sir! I was only sharing with some of my friends the…odds that certain events may occur.”

“Uh-huh. And they just happened to give you credits towards those odds? Give me the PADD, ensign.”

Chekov handed it over, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Kirk said. He glanced down at the PADD and frowned. “Wait, what’s this?”

“Oh, er, uh…” Chekov cleared his throat and shuffled around. “It, uh. Might be the odds that Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy are…sleeping together. Sir.”

Wow, those were some high odds. Kirk shook his head. “Chekov, I think you need to check your facts and figures. Those two would tear each other apart before they would ever enter a relationship!”

“Of course, sir.”

“And I don’t want rumors like this on board my ship.”

“I’m very sorry, sir.”

“I mean can you imagine?” Kirk muttered, mostly to himself. “If they heard about this there would be a civil war on the Enterprise.”

Chekov cleared his throat. “May I go, sir?”

“Sure, sure.” Kirk waved him away and kept looking at the PADD, shaking his head. It was silly, he told himself. He tucked the PADD away and went back to his business.

-

Only, the idea stuck with him and he found himself watching Bones and Spock more closely over the next few days. And he didn’t like what he saw. It appeared Chekov’s odds were actually based on some pretty concrete observational data. Bones did tend to stand within six centimeters of Spock at all times. And Spock didn’t seem to mind. And sometimes they touched. Usually it was Bones lightly elbowing Spock, but once Spock had rounded on him in a fight and Kirk was sure that Spock was about to bend Bones backwards over the console–whether to strangle him or kiss him, Kirk wasn’t sure. He had still broken up the fight with a well-placed chuckle, because either way that would only end in disaster.

So now he was nervous. They still fought constantly, never seeming to agree on anything (except that Kirk was terrible at taking care of himself, but they’d always had that in common). He noted that they were spending more time together, but that didn’t put a damper on their arguments. They were in a war of inevitable attrition towards angry hate-sex, which would be terrible for both of them. Kirk knew. He’d had enough hate-sex in his life to know he should avoid it (although he never did, really).

If they gave in it would inevitably lead to breakup and broken hearts and, even worse, one of them would probably have to leave the ship.

Kirk refused to let that happen. He would just have to keep them apart.

He started scheduling more chess games with Spock, and shifted around their schedules so they were never on duty at the same time. That seemed to depress Bones, and Kirk didn’t feel too great about it either because it meant Bones could no longer come to the bridge and bother him. He started hanging out with Bones after shift as much as he could to make up for it.

Kirk managed to keep it up for several weeks. He basically followed either Bones or Spock everywhere, and everytime they came in contact with each other he distracted them. He thought he was doing pretty well for himself, because they hadn’t had a fight in almost two weeks, but then that night Bones broke out the really shitty brandy and got plastered.

“Jim, I dunno what I’m doing.” Bones had always been a talkative, melancholy drunk. “Is he avoiding me?”

“Who?”

“Spock!” He took another swig of his drink and mopped at his red eyes with one sleeve. “I haven’t seen the green-blooded nuisance in weeks! I mean, I don’t think our last fight was that bad. I thought it was going well, actually.”

This only confirmed for Kirk that he had done the right thing. “Bones, I don’t think Spock is avoiding you. Even if he were, why does it matter? You two are always fighting!”

“Yeah, but… I like fighting with him.” Bones lay back against the couch, his limbs going every which way. He sighed. “I miss him. I miss his stupid face and his damned emotional eyebrows and his smile. D’you know he smiles sometimes, Jim?”

Kirk had only seen it happen once. “Smiles…in the plural?”

“Never seen him do it anywhere where I can get proof,” Bones muttered. “Usually in the lab or something. Once he smiled at me in the mess hall–damned illogical! I know he does it just to spite me, because no one believed it when I pointed it out. He just raised his eyebrow at me like I was the crazy one. Stupid damn flirty bastard…” He trailed off, muttering.

“Bones… drink your brandy.”

-

He let Spock toss him onto the mat and he winced as he landed, failing to enter the roll correctly.

“Captain, you appear distracted.”

Kirk jumped up and rubbed his hands together. “No, no. It’s fine, Spock. Come at me again.”

Spock did so, and this time Kirk managed to concentrate for three whole throws before he got distracted. He landed funny on his arm, gasping at the sharp pain, and Spock was instantly there.

“Captain, we must get you to sickbay. Dr. McCoy—”

“No!” He winced. “It’s, it’s okay, Spock. I just need to take it easy.” He stood up and winced, rubbing at his elbow. “I think we should postpone the rest of our match for another time.”

Spock nodded to him. “Acceptable.” His dark eyes were probing for a moment. “Captain, are you certain nothing is wrong?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“I see. Perhaps instead you could inform me of your intentions towards Dr. McCoy.”

Kirk gaped at him. Spock looked… jealous? That was absurd. “What intentions? He’s my friend, nothing more.”

“Then why have you conspired to keep him from me?”

Kirk continued to gape. Spock was looking at him carefully, but he was clearly a little nervous about confronting his Captain. Kirk wondered how long it had been since Spock had noticed, and then he winced. Spock had probably noticed immediately, but had only now gotten the confidence to ask him about it. “I’m not…conspiring,” he said, even though he was. He looked around the gym. The ensigns wrestling in the corner didn’t seem to be listening, but… “Let’s talk elsewhere.”

They walked back to his quarters and he took out a towel to rub at his face as Spock stood near the door, staring at him. After a minute to steel his nerves, Kirk looked up at him.

“It’s going to sound stupid,” Kirk said.

Spock raised an eyebrow that clearly said, most things humans say are stupid.

Kirk sighed. “I was worried about the two of you. Before I shifted your schedules you’d been spending more time together, and the fighting had increased. I was worried it would interfere with your work.”

“If that is the case, I am sure Dr. McCoy would be as amenable as I to discuss any difficulties with you. However, I believe that the dialogue between McCoy and I only improves my work. I have… struggled, these past weeks, to perform my duty optimally.”

Kirk blinked at him. Coming from Spock that was quite the confession. “Spock do you…like Bones?”

“He is an admirable doctor and crewmate,” Spock said instantly.

“I mean, do you, you know.” He waved a hand. “Do you have feelings for him? Non-angry feelings?”

Spock stared at him. He opened his mouth and then slowly shut it. “I am unsure how to answer that question,” he said after a moment.

“…I’ll switch your shifts back,” Kirk said eventually. “Just try not to do anything stupid.”

“I do only that which is logical.”

Liar, Kirk thought, but he only smiled at his friend and patted his shoulder. “I know you do, Mr. Spock.”

-

“Doctor!” Chekov exclaimed happily. “We have not seen you in far too long!”

Bones looked positively ecstatic as he glided through the turbolift doors. He seemed to float onto the bridge. “I had to come back to make sure you all weren’t doing anything stupid up here.” He smiled at Kirk.

Kirk smiled back, unexpectedly affected by his friend’s chipper mood. “Good to have you back, Bones,” he said, deciding to ignore the fact that it had all been his fault in the first place.

“Good to be…back…” His voice trailed off as he glanced over Kirk’s head.

Kirk followed his gaze, coming up short at the sight of his first officer standing very tall. Spock’s arms were folded behind his back, but his eyes were warm as he locked gazes with Bones. Kirk could see, at the corner of his mouth, a little smile threatening. Spock appeared to barely contain it.

“Doctor,” Spock said. His voice sounded a little funny.

“Spock,” Bones said. His voice sounded a lot funny.

Kirk looked away from their intensely private moment just in time to see Sulu slip something that looked suspiciously like credits to Chekov. Chekov glanced up at him guiltily, but Kirk could only shrug. Kirk would have lost that bet, if he had been a betting man. But now even he could see that things would work out alright between his two friends. He smiled to himself and sank into his chair as Bones said something caustic and biting, and Spock returned in kind, and soon they were fighting good-naturedly above his head.

Things were back to normal.

jools10  asked:

Prompt: Yev isn't happy about having a little sister, so when no one is look he trys to take her back to the hospital. But either Iggy or Lip notice so instead of yelling at him they walk with him to the hospital while telling him the good things about being an older brother.

Here you gooo!!! ♥

[ao3]

MALEFICENT

Yevgeny Milkovich liked many things. He liked watching TV, he liked sneaking into his parent’s bed at night when he’d had a bad dream and he liked when all his cousins and aunts and uncles came over to his home because that meant he got to play with his cousin Liam.

But above all he liked being an only child. It meant he got all the attention and he never had to share his daddies with anyone – until last month. Ian and Papa had been acting weird all summer long, asking Yev all these question about siblings and babies while they took him to kindergarten and by then he knew something was up.

His fears came true when fall came around and one day out of the blue, he got shipped off to his Aunt Fiona’s house while his dads wandered off somewhere, promising Yevgeny the best present ever when they got back. Little did Yevgeny know that present would be a little squirming thing that screamed all day and still made Ian tear up and his dad become all mushy and cuddly, although that mood was usually reserved solely for Yevgeny.  

The little plague’s name was Milicent, which, in Yev’s opinion was a truly horrific name, but she was called “Milly” for short.

“Isn’t she precious, Yev? Our little M&M!” Ian would always say and Yev would think that if she was an M&M, then why didn’t Daddy Ian just eat her already so they could move on from this tiring thing and live a happy life again. Then he would cry or knock his glass off the table so he had no other choice than to focus his attention on him for a change.

Then there was the screaming. All day long and especially all night when he tried to get some sleep, she would cry and her face looked really ugly when she did. All red and puffy and sometimes her snot blew up into a bubble and it was just gross and horrifying to look at.

Another thing that bothered Yev, was that because of Milly, or Maleficent, as he liked to call her, they never did lazy Sundays anymore. Lazy Sundays was Yevgeny’s most favorite thing. It happened every week and they spent the whole day lying on the couch, cuddling and watching movies that Yev liked.

Now, everytime they tried to do so, Milly started crying or she was sick or Yev’s dads fell asleep because she had been crying all through the previous night.

It was all very nerve wrecking, so Yev decided it was time to do something.

On Halloween the whole family came over to take advantage of the big TV that Mickey had brought with him one day to watch horror movies and they were all still asleep the next morning when Yev got up, put on his shoes and tiptoed to Milly’s crib. She was awake, but for once she wasn’t crying so Yevgeny reached inside the crib and picked up the baby.

The most difficult part was getting to the front door without being seen, but somehow he managed to sneak past the passed out people everywhere. The stroller was standing in the garden down the stairs and he placed the little girl inside and started pushing. It was a little more difficult than imagined to actually push the stroller, problem being that Yevgeny could hardly reach the handles, but slow and steadily he went his way.

“Morning!”

Yev jerked. So he hadn’t been as quiet as he had thought while leaving the apartment. Lip’s eyes were still puffy from sleeping, there was a bottle of beer in his hand and a cigarette was dangling from the side of his mouth.

Yevgeny didn’t answer. He just stood in front of the stroller, trying to cover the stroller with his tiny body.

“What are you two up to?”

“We’re just taking a walk?” It sounded more like question than a statement and Yev wasn’t sure if Lip was buying what he was selling.

“Oh, really? Come on you can tell me the truth. I’m the cool uncle!” Yev tilted his head, thinking about that for a moment.

“If you’re the cool one, which one is Uncle Carl?”

Lip sighed and leaned over the stroller to make sure Milly was warm enough. It was only October but it was already freezingly cold.

“Your uncle Carl is the uncle that you will one day visit in prison.”

Yevgeny didn’t really understand that, because his uncle didn’t seem like a bad guy to him and only bad guys had to go to prison, at least that was what Daddy Ian had told him. His dad’s opinion had been a little different, though.

There was a short period of silence where the pair just stood there staring at each other, until Yevgeny caved and spilled his secret plan.

“I’m taking Maleficent back to the hospital. Dad said that’s where they got her from, so I’m taking her back.”

Lip almost lost his cigarette when his mouth fell open in surprise.

“You what?”

Yevgeny sighed and put a hand on his uncle’s arm.

“I’m gonna take her back. All she does is cry. Daddy and Papa should try and get another one that doesn’t cry so much and maybe is a boy.”

Lip nodded understandingly. “Well, let’s go then. You wanna be back before your dads wake up, right?”

Yev nodded. Finally somebody who understood him. He let Lip push the stroller, while he climbed onto his shoulders. The view from up here was pretty great. Even Maleficent didn’t look so bad from this angle.

“So, you don’t like being a big brother?”, Lip asked, pulling faces at Milly who was in the process of waking up. Yevgeny shrugged.

“No, I don’t like it. Milly doesn’t like me, she never wants to play and because of her my dads are always tired.”

Lip nodded.

“It’s natural, Yev. Babies don’t sleep well at first and their parents get tired because if the baby is awake, they have to be awake. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Mickey and Ian are also really happy since they got Milly, right?”

Well, yeah, but Yevgeny wanted them to be okay with it just being the three of them.

“So they got tired of me and they bought Milly?”

Lip stopped in his steps and gently pulled Yevgeny in front of himself. The little boy giggled laughing while he was hanging there with his legs in the air and his uncle’s hands safely around his waist.

“Yevgeny Philipp Milkovich, what are you talking about?”

Yev furrowed his brows and looked at his uncle cluelessly.

“My middle name isn’t Phillip, Uncle Lip!”

The blonde man shrugged and put his nephew onto the ground, crouching down in front of him so their heads were at level.

“I know, but it should have been.” He rolled his eyes and pulled a face to get a smile out of the worried boy.

“Your daddies love you very much. They loved you so much, that they decided to have another kid, hoping that it would be just as wonderful as you are, you know?”

“But I don’t wanna have a sister.”

Lip took off his scarf and wrapped it around Yevgeny’s neck. He hadn’t dressed appropriately for this cold weather and he was starting to shiver. At least he had thought off throwing a blanket over his sister.

Lip leaned in close and waved Yevgeny to come even closer so he could whisper into his ear.

“I’m gonna tell you a secret, okay? I’m a big brother, too, just like you are now and it’s really fun most of the time.”

Yevgeny didn’t look convinced.

“Once your sister’s a little older, you’re always going to have someone to play with. Just like I had with your daddy Ian when we were young. Also-,” he paused for effect and chuckled when Yevgeny gasped in anticipation.

“What?”

“Because you’re the oldest sibling, you get to boss your siblings around when your parents aren’t home. How does that sound?”

A spark appeared in Yev’s eyes and for once he looked just like his dad when he was up to no good. His lower lip between his teeth, his lips curled into a big grin. Unfortunately he seemed to have gotten his sense of right and wrong from Mickey.

“But don’t tell your dads I said that, okay?”

The little boy nodded and Lip continued pushing the stroller. After a few steps he stopped and turned around.

“Are you coming, Yev? We gotta get to the hospital.”

Yevgeny took a moment to think his decision through but in the end he was sure.

“No, Uncle Lip, I changed my mind. Let’s take Milly home.”