#jokes aside! I haven’t slept at all. and it’s 5am

[tigerplushh]

am I starting to understand what the 5 makima fans in this universe see in her or do I need to go to bed

[shyficwriter]

Shots

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader, guest starring Peter

Summary: Based on this prompt from anon: "Reader gets drunk for the first time - like REALLY drunk - and Yondu does nooot like it"

Author's note: Title sucks but I couldn't think of anything better. I was actually drunk when I wrote most of this (it's when inspiration finally struck to fulfill the prompt lol) but I obviously finished and edited it sober. That being said, I feel an obligation to say that the things Reader does in this story aren't necessarily written from experience, I was just trying to think what the most embarrassing things you could do while drunk would be lol. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,470

One thing was certain, and it was that Yondu was going to shove his arrow up his ravagers' collective asses.

Yondu had long suspected you wouldn't be able to handle your liquor ever since you became old enough to drink. He noticed how you always got tipsy after just one beer, however luckily, you always stopped after around two, so it had never really been a problem.

Until tonight, that is. Because everyone was celebrating a big score gone well and Peter thought it'd be fun for you to take shots with him and the guys. Now Yondu had to deal with you being drunk off your ass.

He had pulled Peter aside and growled at him to knock it off earlier that night after he noticed you taking the first shot, saying, "The girl can't handle her liquor, boy! Don't be giving her any more, ya hear me?"

This was met with Peter calling Yondu overprotective, but he ultimately conceded and swore that he wouldn't give you anymore shots.

But Yondu hadn't said anything about Oblo, Tullk, or Horuz, had he?

The others thought it was real funny how giggly and expressive you'd get when drunk, so it didn't take much convincing from Peter for them sneak you shots when Yondu wasn't looking.

By the time Yondu noticed what had happened he was pissed.

He marched over to where you sat next to the guys. You were laughing your ass off at a dumb joke Tullk made, and you were surprised when you saw him and the other three jump up and high tail it out of the way without explanation.

Then Yondu sat in front of you.

"Heyyy!" you giggled, playfully shoving the captain in the shoulder. "Wassup?"

Yondu's eyes narrowed. "How much did you have?"

"What?"

"How much to drink, girl. I know they were giving ya shots, how many?"

You giggled and pretended to look yourself over. "I dunno what ya mean, I haven't been shot." You then preceded to laugh your ass off at what you thought was a hilarious joke.

"PETER!" Yondu snarled, looking around but unable to find the Terran. Kraglin happened to be walking by just then so he settled for pulling him in to see if he could answer the question. "Krags, did'ya happen to see how many she had?"

Kraglin was startled at having been suddenly jerked towards the two of you, but he answered as honestly as he could. "I'm not exactly sure, Cap, but I think I did notice her have at least four? Maybe five? Why?"

Yondu released the first mate's sleeve and sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Dammit. I'm gonna kill Quill." he said, before standing and pulling you up from your seat. "Come on. Yer going to bed." he said gruffly.

"Aw! But I don't want to!" you whined as he dragged you from the bar, unable to even really walk straight.

"Tough." Yondu said. "I don't like ya getting drunk like this. It ain't good fer ya. You'll only get into trouble."

"But ya let the other guys!" you pouted as the doors swung shut behind you and Yondu.

"They can handle it. Ya can't." he said flatly. Almost as if on cue you stumbled and almost brought the two of you down. This caused you to giggle madly as Yondu lost his grip on you.

"Catch me if you can!" you squeal in delight as you take off down the corridor.

Yondu swore under his breath as he ran after you. He might've called his arrow to stop you in your tracks, but he was worried that your drunk ass would accidentally run into the flarkin thing if he stopped it in front of your face to halt you.

Luckily for him you weren't exactly fast in your drunken state and he caught you quickly, grabbing you about the waist and pulling you back.

You squeaked at the contact, batting him away. "That tickles! Don't!" you giggle, squirming away.

Yondu rolled his eyes and sighed, moving his hands to instead rest on your shoulders as he steadied you.

The next couple minutes were relatively quiet, you were just softly giggling and babbling about nonsense while Yondu kept guiding you down the corridor to your quarters.

You were about halfway there when you were hit with a sudden and bad urge to pee. "Wait a sec." you drunkenly slur to your guide and before Yondu could even react you had already pulled down your pants and had squatted to take a piss in the damn hallway.

Once Yondu realized what was happening he jerked back and looked away, both not wanting anything to splash back on him, and also obviously not interested in looking, grateful that your jacket had blocked anything he might have seen before he reacted and looked away. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his face flushed with embarrassment and irritation at the situation, but there wasn't exactly a whole lot he could do about it in the moment, it had just happened so quick. He waited until he heard you stand up before looking back.

"I can't believe ya just pissed on my floor." he grumbled, side-stepping the mess and calling up Kraglin to send someone down to clean the ... "spill..." in the corridor leading towards the crew quarters.

He finally got you to your quarters and ushered you inside so you could sleep it off. He started to nudge you towards your bed when you suddenly announced you were going to be sick.

Yondu's eyes went wide, and not wanting a similar incident like what had happened in the hallway he quickly ripped a nearby trashcan from the floor and shoved it towards you.

After you had finished vomiting you placed the trashcan back on the floor and stumbled back into a seated position on the bed. "I don't feel well..."

"Gee, I wonder why." Yondu said bitterly, arms crossed over his chest. "Ya need to go to bed."

Just then your eyes flew open and you dumped yourself onto the floor, pulling the trashcan back towards you as you began to vomit again.

Yondu sighed. If anyone were to ask him about what he did next he'd deny it. He knelt down next to you and gently pulled your hair back so that you wouldn't get sick into it, and there he stayed for a good bit while you emptied the contents of your stomach.

When you had finally finished you sat up and leaned your back against your bed. Then, almost as if noticing Yondu for the first time you leaned into him and hugged him tightly.

He was almost warmed by the gesture, but then to his chagrin, you started bawling.

He made a grimace but returned the hug tentatively, occasionally giving gentle pats to your back with a "There, there." not really knowing what else to do.

Well, except for one thing. He glanced up to see the door was still opened, and without disturbing you too much from your places on the floor, he kicked it closed. No way in hell was one of his crew going to walk in on this scene and see him being all soft and shit. No way.

Eventually you did start to quiet down and then Yondu attempted to gently prod you into standing up so you could get into bed. Unfortunately for him, you only mumbled nonsense and nuzzled in closer like he was a damn teddy bear or something. So, he gently pried your arms away from him so he could stand up before helping you to your feet.

He had gotten you halfway into bed when it happened. You got sick again. Only this time you didn't use the trashcan. You got sick on him.

Yondu's stomach churned but he kept it together, Taking a not-so-deep breath (because of the smell) to keep himself from angrily setting off. There'd be plenty of time to yell at you in the morning, he reasoned.

He quickly put you the rest of the way in bed and luckily you seemed to fall asleep the moment your head hit the pillow. However, not before mumbling out a, "Night, dad." Yondu raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't give himself time to dwell on it. He was eager to leave and get cleaned up.

He was about a quarter of the way to his quarters when he came across a laughing group a ravagers cutting up and being silly in the corridors. It was Peter, Oblo, and Kraglin, and they all stopped laughing when they noticed both the murderous look on their captain's face and the mess of sick on his clothes as he approached.

Yondu didn't stop to talk. Merely glared at them as he made his way past. "Not. A. Word." he growled at their surprised faces.

They obeyed, but it didn't stop their giggles once they thought he was out of earshot and they put two and two together. You were really gonna get it in the morning, they thought.

***

The next morning Yondu gave extra cleaning duties to Peter and the other ravagers who got you plastered the night before. He didn't say it was punishment for what happened, after all it wasn't like there was a rule against it, but they still knew he was mad. He had woken them up at 5am to tell them to get started while everyone else slept in, after all.

He called you into his quarters shortly after and you made your way over hungover and groggy, the previous night mostly a blur.

You lightly rapped on his door to announce your presence and flinched when you were met with a loud "Come in! It's open!"

You opened the door and groaned as you entered the room that Yondu had made uncharacteristically bright by seemingly turning on every freaking light he had. Through squinted eyes you made out the form of your captain and you cringed again when he called out in a booming voice, "Have fun last night?" making your temples throb.

Basically, Yondu was being a dick.

You grunted in response and he spoke up again. "So, ya remember anything from last night?" he asked, randomly speaking certain words louder than they needed to be, just to make you further regret your hangover.

You rubbed a hand over your eyes and made another grunt while shrugging your shoulders.

"What was that? Couldn't hear ya." he said, a slight smirk playing over his lips.

You groaned and spoke up, "I dunno. Had some drinks with Peter and the guys, went to bed?" You honestly didn't know why he had to call you in so damn early. Whatever mischief you got up to with the guys couldn't have been that bad that this couldn't wait until noon.

"Oh hoho, no!" Yondu laughed almost bitterly, clapping his hands together with a loud pop that made you flinch in pain from the loud noise. "Ya did a lot more than that, missy."

You just stared up at him weakly, half not giving a shit & wishing to go back to bed and half worried you had done something either dangerous or embarrassing.

"I s'pose ya don't remember getting sick all over me?" he asked.

Your eyes flew wide, your former grogginess forgotten. Oh no. Please let him be joking. "I'm- so sorry." you stammered, both in embarrassment and in concern for how he was going to deal with you for that. Surely you wouldn't get off scot-free for vomiting on your captain. "I- sorry- I-" you didn't really know what to say. You had apparently thrown up all over your captain the night before. What could you say?

"Oh that ain't all." Yondu said in a tone that was obvious it was about to get worse.

Your stomach fell. What could possibly be worse than having drunkenly vomited on your captain? You could feel your cheeks turning pink as you cringed and asked, "Do I wanna know?"

"Prob'ly not, but I'm gonna tell ya anyway." Yondu said, his hands on his hips. "Ya remember when ya pissed in the hallway?"

Your face turned scarlet. "What?! Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope. Ya ripped yer drawers down and popped a squat right in the corridor."

You covered your burning face with your hands. That. That was what could be worse than throwing up on your captain- literally pissing on his floor in front of him. This was so humiliating, and it only got worse once you realized you probably did it in front of the rest of the crew too. You lowered your hands and asked, "Oh god. How many people saw??"

Yondu wanted to scare you a bit and tell you that you did it in front of the whole crew, but he saw tears start to form in your eyes and just couldn't bring himself to do it. "Lucky fer you, no one but me. Ya did it when I was dragging yer ass to your quarters to sleep it off. Ya didn't get sick on me til after that."

Oddly enough, that didn't make you feel much better. You tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. "God, I'm never drinking again."

Yondu scoffed with a laugh. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. Ain't no one who's ever said that follows through though," he chuckled. He expected you to laugh too, but he made a grimace when he saw how miserable you looked. "Aw, come here." he said, pulling you into a hug. "Look, everyone's done embarrassin' shit when they're drunk. It's just part of life. It ain't the end of the world."

You sniffed. "Even you?"

Yondu rolled his eyes and begrudgingly answered. "Ya brat. Even me." He could tell you wanted to ask, but he moved the conversation along, moving to hold you out at arm's length. "Better?"

You sheepishly nod and say, "I guess..."

"Good. Ya can be off then."

You looked at him in confusion. "You mean I'm not in trouble?"

Yondu laughed. "Well, from the look on your face, I thought the humiliation was punishment enough, but since ya asked I guess I can assign ya extra kitchen duties this week. Ya can fill in tonight through Thursday for Gef."

You grimaced but accepted your fate. "Yes, sir," you say before turning to leave his quarters.

Yondu chuckled and shook his head after you closed the door behind you, flipping off some of the unnecessary lights. There may be some hiccups now and then, but his not-so-little girl wasn't turning out too bad.

And even though he knew you'd deny it sober, he was proud you called him dad.

But he'd be damned if he let you drink with Peter again.

[ecotone99]

[RO] The 2 year Spew

The 2 year Spew

Snazzy title right? Probably an odd choice for marketing reasons, who would want to buy a book about a spew? And a 2 year one at that? If that even makes sense. You’re probably thinking ‘What the hell is this going to be about?’ Well it does involve a spew… not mine though… It is kind of a long story, after all I have 2 years to fill you in on. Let me explain.

2 years ago I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I know everyone says their child is beautiful, but mine seriously is. He has blonde hair, bright blue eyes, cute little button nose… he’s beautiful, just take my word for it. I’m not sure why, and I don’t know how wide spread this tradition is, but the Dads of newborns having a ‘Head wetting’ to celebrate the arrival of their new baby into the world. Which is essentially just a piss up with all his mates… I’m sure there is some religious relevance somewhere but I’m not religious so I have no idea. I’m sure in the religious version, copious amounts of alcohol aren’t involved.. but I digress… So myself and my little bundle of joy ship off to my brothers house for the night, while my partner (lets call him Alex) has his mates over in the shed for a massive night of beers and music to ‘wet the head’ of his new baby boy. Now I must say I was quite lucky that the newborn stage was quite easy for me, little bundle was a great sleeper, when he was awake he was content and my gosh did this kid love his booby milk. I am grateful that I never had any drama with breast feeding as I know so many do, so I was quite comfortable getting up through the night to feed my bub, even at just a week old. However, my bub for the first year of his life, was an early riser. 5am every morning, without fail. It was still bloody dark outside! I was never sleep deprived, but man a 5am start, makes for a long morning and an even longer day. By 9am (which felt like lunch time) I was bored and just wanted to go home. So I did. And what welcomed me when precious bundle and I got home is the premise to this story, an en suite covered in spew. I walked into my bedroom to see Alex in bed with a bucket next to him, towels strewn across my en suite floor, a wet mop and a smell of straight alcohol so strong I thought my baby might get drunk just from breathing the air. I took my baby into the lounge room where 2 of his friends had slept on the couch, I made them a cup of coffee and they filled me in on Alex’s antics from the night prior. And let me preface this by saying Alex has a bad relationship with alcohol. Anyone who knows Alex has a story of a time when he had spewed somewhere or on someone, and I loathed the fact that is his ‘thing’. They informed me nothing spectacular had happened. Alex drank too much too fast, he could barely speak or walk, so his friends took him to bed. Alex sat on the edge of the bed and proceeded to projectile vomit up to 2 metres in front of himself all over the en suite bathroom. Being the good friends they are (to me as well) they knew me coming home to this mess with a newborn was a bit much, so they did the best clean up job a couple of drunk men could. And to this day I appreciate this gesture very much. I let Alex sleep until past midday, his friends at some stage went home, and I rounded up the spewy towels and left it to Alex to tidy up the rest. I’ll do a lot for people, but cleaning up a grown mans self inflicted spew, is a job for only himself. Now I don’t know when you’re reading this, so let me remind you of a ‘thing’ that was popular back in 2018/2019. The phrase ‘this is my hill to die on’. Well, this became my hill to die on. If you lived under a rock and haven’t heard of this saying, let me enlighten you. It means ‘An issue to pursue with wholehearted conviction and/or single minded focus, with little or no regard to the cost.’

The next day I reminded Alex about his mess in the en suite, how it had splashed up the walls, it was on the wardrobe doors, it was even on the wall next to the bed. I cleaned little bits off the carpet, but again… this is a grown adults self-inflicted spew! I refused to clean this up for him. I’m dying on this hill remember!

A week had passed, and it was now well and truly dry. The spew smell had subsided at least. It was bearable to once again be in that room without gagging. Now luckily most of the time the splashed spew wasn’t all that noticeable, but it bugged me. Sometimes the sun would come in on such an angle that it almost lit up every spot of spew in a fluorescent light and it made me so mad I had to leave the room! Alex seemingly forgot? At least that’s what I told myself. Otherwise who would be so damn disrespectful to the other people of this house, that they wouldn’t even clean up their own spew? I’m not a clean freak by any means, I’ve lived in this house for 3 years now and I’ve only cleaned my oven twice. But if I spewed on my oven, it would be a different story… BECAUSE BODY FLUIDS!!

Months passed. Alexs relationship with alcohol never changed, but he started to become nasty to me when he got drunk. Not all the time, but often enough that it made me question what the hell was I doing in the relationship. He was a brilliant Dad to our little bundle, and I adore that about Alex, but our relationship started to unravel.

They say when you have kids, people change and its hard on relationships. I agree with that, but our problems weren’t new. When I became a mother, I think my tolerance for acceptable and unacceptable behaviour changed. Is coming home and going straight to sleep acceptable behaviour? Yes. Is coming home drunk and yelling at me about a cheese burger and waking the sleeping baby acceptable behaviour? Hell no.

These early months were a time of great reflection for me. Because somehow, I had become my mother. Mum died long before I ever even thought of having children. She died young and quick from an aggressive cancer. Very sad. But an unfortunate part of life. Like most kids, I had a love/hate relationship with her. She was in an abusive marriage, and she didn’t do a thing about it. I had to call the police more times than any child should, because of the physical abuse she endured. The next day My stepdad would apologise, and in a few weeks time, we did this dance again. My younger sisters are 10 years younger than me. When the adults had one of these nights, my sisters would cry out from their bedrooms. I’d get them and place them in our brothers bedroom at the other end of the house, until either they calmed down, or I called the police and they deescalated the situation. I hated that my mother put us through this. If you want to put yourself in this position, more fool you. But to put us kids through this was damn near child abuse. And yes, I should have been angry at my step dad for being an abuser, and I was. But I never understood why she never wanted to protect us from this by leaving him.

Now I know why. My mother always saw the best in people. So when he said he’d change and it wouldn’t happen again, she believed him. And now I was doing the exact same thing with Alex.

He was never abusive sober, in fact he has never been able to recall a single horrible thing he’s ever said to me. Because he’s gotten so drunk, he’s lost most of his memories of the night in general, let alone when he got home.

The tip of the iceberg was when we went on a group trip with some family and friends to Bali. Our little bundle was nearly a 1 year old and was perfection on the plane. We had a great time! Sipping cocktails by the pool, taking it in turns to sit in our room when baby slept so the other could explore the resort and the town. One magnificent afternoon, Alex came back to our room and I could tell he’d had more than just a few drinks. He was trying to pick a fight with me. I’d ask him to keep his voice down while the baby slept, apparently that meant I was ‘controlling’. I asked him about his afternoon and how much he’d had to drink, I was deemed ‘no fun anymore’ and it wasn’t any of my business how much he drank. We went to meet the rest of our group for dinner and they all knew Alex was drunk. He snapped at me if I asked him to help with the baby. He made fun of how slow I drank my wine in front of everyone is if it was the joke of the day. A friend pulled me aside and asked me if I was ok, because she hadn’t seen Alex act like this before. I assured her it was fine, he’d just had to much to drink. Unfortunately when I knocked over my drink and it hit the floor, I couldn’t keep up that façade, because in front of everyone, Alex screamed at me calling me a fucking dickhead and somehow I did that on purpose to prove a point (to this day I have no idea what he meant). One of the older guys in our group told him to walk away and cool off. I didn’t see Alex again until the early hours of the next morning when he came back to our room. I could hear him stumble in. He kicked the bin and mumbled ‘for fucks sake’ as he then crashed into the desk that the tv was on, in a failed attempt to be quiet. I didn’t speak a word. Our baby bundle was in a porta cot about a metre from Alex’s side of the bed, in hindsight a mistake on my part. Almost as soon as Alex lied down in bed I could tell he was going to be sick, I’ve been in this situation to many times before with him that I unfortunately knew the deep breathing associated with Alex’s pre spew ritual. I shook him and told him to get up because he’s about to be sick, he could only groan before I heard it rise from his stomach. I was already half way up when it hit the bed sheets, then the baby started to cry. Another spew and a cough later, Alex rolled over in his own spew and went to sleep as if it was the cure to insomnia. Luckily there was a couch in the room. Bundle and I snuggled up on the couch. I didn’t sleep knowing that my bundle and I deserve better than this.

When we returned from Bali, I told Alex I was done. All his empty promises to change over the years, were simply just words without meaning now. He called a counsellor, and admitted he had a problem.

Over the next few months we attended couples counselling, as well as some solo sessions to try and work on ourselves.

I stuck around, perhaps out of guilt. I didn’t want to be the reason a father couldn’t see his son when he got home from work, but I also hated myself for giving him yet another chance to change. I had convinced myself because he was getting counselling now, things would be different. We communicated as issues arose. We talked about our childhoods and learnt why we behave the way we do. I understood my self-hate for replicating my own mothers behaviours, and why Alex has such a strong sense of self entitlement. Now I understood it. But I couldn’t change Alex. He had to do that himself.

I’ve had a bad habit in our relationship of doing things for Alex that he says he can’t do himself. He came home from work with terrible asthma. Asthma that had been getting worse for weeks. This time it was so bad he could hardly converse with me. I had asked him weeks prior to make an appointment to get more medication. Did he? No. Did I have to do it for him? Of course. Alex had been paying far to much for a phone plan that did not suit what he needed, I asked him for months to simply call and change it, its easy! I even told him what to say. Did he? No. Did I cave when he asked me to do it for him? Unfortunately, yes.

Alex cut down on his drinking, so the abuse stopped. He was making progress, but things at home didn’t get any better. I don’t think he ever did it consciously, but Alex had it ingrained in him this self entitled attitude. He would only help me with chores around the house if it was something that bothered him. If I asked him to vacuum the toddlers crumbs off the carpet, but Alex wasn’t bothered by the mess, he wouldn’t do it. If I asked him to help me change the bedsheets, but he didn’t think they were dirty enough, he wouldn’t do it. One night we had an argument about this very matter, he stormed off and went to bed. He left in the morning with a slam of the door and without a goodbye.

When I seriously started thinking about leaving Alex I was a ball of anxiety and guilt. Because if I left, who would look after Alex? I genuinely didn’t know if he knew how to be an adult. I knew he’d be fine with our now toddler when he had him, but when it came to paying bills, packing the toddlers day care bag, cooking decent food, I was genuinely concerned.

I was fed up. I sat on the edge of the bed wondering how to fix this with Alex. I had a toddler now, but I felt like a had a lazy teenager as well. As the morning sun came through the windows of our bedroom, the spew that had splattered my bathroom now 2 years ago, lit up like a Christmas tree.

If someone can leave their own spew for someone else to clean up for over 2 years, with regular reminders mind you, because its not something that bothers him. Then he was never going to change for me, his son or himself.

I packed mine and the toddlers bags. And we left.

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