#star trek oneshots

[reigningqueenofwords]

Leonard "Bones" McCoy Oneshots

Home Perfect Sight

[ofstardustanddreaming]

star trek masterlist

imagines

n/a

oneshots

n/a

headcanons

n/a

[fetch-those-damned-bolt-cutters]

You think you can hurt me? I write star trek fanfiction knowing absolutely nothing about the medical and scientific fields

[captainsophiestark]

Not A Doctor

Bones McCoy x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Trek

Summary: Bones' SO hurts themselves on an away mission and has to stitch themselves up as well as they can to buy time for a med evac to the Enterprise

Word Count: 1,533

Category: Fluff, Humor, a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Shit," I hissed, pressing a hand to my side as I slid down the wall. When I finally got up the courage to pull my hand back and look, it came away with a lot more blood than I'd hoped to find. I'd fallen pretty far and managed to avoid any broken bones based on my pain levels, but the wound in my side was gaping and looked concerningly serious.

I could practically hear the extended bridge crew chorusing "I told you so" from here.

As if on cue, my communicator beeped. I grimaced, but managed to take it out of my bag and open it to respond.

"What's up?" I groaned.

"Y/N, where are you?" came the voice of Jim Kirk, one of my best friends and the captain of the Enterprise. "Scotty's reporting he can only find two targets to beam up."

Dammit. That figured.

"I'm... not totally sure. I was trying to follow the signature on my tricorder to that plant I've been looking for when the ground just gave way under me. I'm not sure how far I fell, but I hit something pretty hard on the way down and I've got... quite the gash in my side."

Silence on the other end for a few moments, then:

"Hang tight. We're coming to find you."

The communicator hung up with a click, and I sighed, ignoring the flare of pain in my side. I had faith in Jim's determination and ability to find me, especially with Spock here helping him, but I still needed to do something if I wanted to be alive when they found me.

Thankfully, I'd watched my boyfriend, Doctor Leonard McCoy, stich people up often enough that I felt fairly confident I could do a passable job on myself. I dug some sewing supplies out of my bag that I hadn't removed from my last away mission misadventure, and pulled the hem of my shirt up to get a better look at the wound.

I grimaced, gritting my teeth and trying to prepare for this. I'd been so excited to join Kirk and Spock on this away mission. This planet was supposed to have one of the rarest plants in the galaxy, and I'd been looking forward to finding it since I'd first heard we'd be coming here. And now, I was at the bottom of this pit or cave or whatever, slowly bleeding out, without even a picture of the plant to show for it.

Ugh.

I tried to focus on my breathing as I threaded a needle and put it to my skin. I knew the wound needed to be disinfected before I totally closed it, but I didn't have anything on me to do that with, and I knew Bones would be able to take care of it for me if I could manage to get back to him.

I took a few deep breaths to steel myself, then stuck the needle through. I swore loudly and kept up a steady stream of expletives as I sewed up the wound. I pulled it closed as tightly as I dared, then held my jacket to my waist to try to staunch the remainder of the bleeding.

I sighed, long and hard, then leaned my head back against the wall of whatever hole I'd fallen into. I had no idea how long those stitches had taken me, but it certainly hadn't been quick. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too much longer before I heard Jim and Spock stumbling down some passage towards me.

I focused on deep breaths as the pain continued to throb in my side, completely zoning out to the time and environment around me. Finally, I heard some shuffling movement from a slightly more gradual incline up ahead of me. The voices of my friends echoed out, curious and searching.

"Y/N!"

"I'm here!" I called back, my voice a little weaker than normal. I cleared my throat, then tried again. "Here!"

A moment later, my friends came into view. Jim grinned at me as Spock started scanning the space, probably trying to decide on the best way to get me out of here.

"How're you holding up?" asked Jim. I forced a smile.

"Living the dream."

He scoffed, then moved to crouch beside me and put one of my arms over his shoulder.

"Spock! Come help me."

"We'll need to get around the corner and most of the way back up the incline we came down to reach a spot where Mr. Scott can register us," said Spock as he joined us. "There seems to be some property of this rock that's prohibiting the transporter signal from reaching us."

"Great," I huffed, grimacing as my friends pulled me to my feet. Even resting most of my weight on them, I was still seeing spots. "This is gonna be great."

Between the three of us, somehow, we managed to get back into transporter range. I almost lost consciousness at one point, but we'd paused, and I'd managed to pull myself back from the brink. When the Enterprise's transporter room finally materialized before me, the relief was palpable, not least of all because Bones was waiting for me.

"Y/N," he said, jumping to attention and rushing onto the pad to replace Jim at my side. With Spock's help, we started moving immediately for the Med Bay. "What happened?"

"I was following the signature of the plant I was looking for on my tricorder. Then all of a sudden, the ground gave way underneath me. It wasn't a straight drop, I don't think, but I fell a pretty long way, bouncing off the rock slide and the walls of the cave I fell into on the way down. I'm bruised, but I don't think it's anything bad besides the cut on my stomach."

Bones nodded. "We'll get you to Med Bay and make sure."

Luckily, my boyfriend was very good at staying calm and focused in a crisis for his patients. He was completely in the zone as he and Spock helped me into a bed once we reached Med Bay, and then Bones started checking my vitals and assessing my injuries. I watched him carefully for any break in his usual bedside manner to tell me if I needed to be worried about something, but none came.

Hopefully that was a good sign, and not just because he was an incredible doctor.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to me, Bones returned from his testing and reappeared by  my bedside. His hands were on his hips, but he seemed calmer, and definitely out of intense doctor mode.

"Alright, the good news is you'll be just fine. But I'm still gonna need to disinfect the wound and stitch you up," he said. I gave him the best smile I could muster.

"Sounds like a plan."

He sighed, then gently lifted my shirt high enough to give him access to the gash in my side. The light touch of his fingertips sent goosebumps along my skin, but I did my best to ignore them, especially as Bones frowned.

"What the hell did you do to yourself?" he asked, not looking away from his work on my side.

"Uh... I slammed into a rock. We covered this already, remember?"

"No, I didn't mean your injury." Bones paused and looked up at me, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. "I meant these stitches. Yikes."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, making Bones chuckle as he got back to work.

"Okay, whatever. I'm a biologist, not a doctor, dammit. I think I did a pretty good job, considering the circumstances."

"Mm, I guess so. Barely."

"Hey!" I laughed, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. "You better knock it off or I'm gonna start practicing my stitches on you."

Bones snorted, but I could see the smile on his face as he continued working. Thanks to the medical facilities of the Enterprise, it barely hurt as he undid my messy job and redid it with a much better one of his own.

"So... what are you doing after this?" I asked after a few long moments of letting him work in peace. He paused to look up at me again, one eyebrow raised.

"Don't tell me you're hitting on your own boyfriend after only the low-level painkillers I gave you?"

"I can and will hit on my own boyfriend whenever I want, no painkillers required. But I was mostly asking if you had other patients to deal with after me, or if you'd be free to come cuddle on the couch and eat junk food with me. I think it'd really help speed up my recovery process."

Bones' mouth quirked into a smile again as he put the finishing touches on my stitches.

"Well if it's for the wellness of a patient... I think Nurse Chapel might be willing to take over from me for the rest of the day."

"Thank goodness for Christine."

Bones and I shared a smile, then he returned to his work and I watched him contentedly. Obviously, life and death situations on away missions were never ideal—but I couldn't really bring myself to be upset about how this one had played out, even if I hadn't managed to get my plant in the end.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[spirk-trek]

headcanon: chekov gets jim to play him in chess and quickly loses despite being a decent player, but he somehow convinces him to let him keep trying until he wins

fast forward a year or so, jim is stuck in sickbay with 84 broken bones or whatever and in comes chekov, board tucked under his arm for their weekly match because "you did not think i would be letting you off ze hook, did you keptin? a promise ees a promise"

[pinkgrapefloyd]

the spirk "oneshot" is twelve thousand words long and i'm nowhere near done. one day i might learn how to boldly shut the fuck up

[heliads]

Read the pinned post and I'm so glad you're still taking requests for Star Trek!! I was wondering if you could do something for Bones with loads of banter and friends to lovers? Like they work together on the enterprise and are super close. They're always flirting and making fun of eachother, etc until one day R gets hurt and they both confess. I'm a sucker for sick fics/hurt comfort.

'Stay Safe' - leonard 'bones' mccoy

masterlist

There’s never a dull moment when you’re up amongst the stars.

At times like this, when everything is going south, it’s important to remember that you signed up for this. You were the one who decided that a simple life back on your home planet was too boring for you. You were the one who chose to put yourself through the most rigorous courses you could find in Starfleet Academy. You were the one who somehow thought that pestering Jim Kirk (that’s Captain to you) to let you onto the Enterprise would be the best possible career plan.

And now you’re the one finding yourself hurled into danger for what feels like the dozenth time this week. At least you’re not twiddling your thumbs, hoping for something to do, but at least boredom doesn’t get you killed. At this rate, with Jim’s latest half-mad plan to get you all out of the latest crisis, you have no idea if you can say that about your position on the Enterprise.

The Enterprise’s latest incident is going to take place in a few hours. There’s been a situation on a backwater planet where an escape pod from an imploding shuttle was accidentally stranded without any chance of rescue. Unfortunately, the travelers in the pod managed to crash land on a planet with a toxic atmosphere, so they’ve been forced to stay inside their pod lest they breathe in the poisonous gas. They’ve only got a short while before their life support systems give out, which is why it’s time for the Enterprise to step in.

The only problem is that this planet is way more hostile than original scans made it out to be. What was meant to be a one man mission has quickly unraveled into a far more complex plan. More crew members will have to be sent down, and you’ll need contact with the ship so you can quickly beam everyone up before they get hurt.

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised to receive a summons to the bridge. You’ve known Jim for a while now, and in turn he knows that he can rely on you in dangerous times such as these. You’ve more than proven yourself capable of handling extreme pressure and risks, so your caution and quick thinking pay off by plunging you back in danger again.

Jim wants a group to travel down to the surface and retrieve the pod with its survivors. You’ll go along with Sulu, Uhura, and your captain, as all of you work well together and can handle tough situations like this. Jim gave you the option to stay back on the Enterprise, of course, he’d never force you into something as perilous as this, but this won’t be the first time that you’ve risked your life to save innocent lives, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Jim had known that, but he’d still smiled with obvious relief when you agreed to take part in the mission. “Glad to have you with us,” he’d said, clapping you on the shoulder, “Now, we’ve got to get moving, and fast. You’ll have to swing by the med wing to get cleared for surface interaction. Meet us back here as soon as you can so we can finish going over details before we head out. And thanks again, Y/N.”

You’d waved off his gratitude with an easy smile. This is what you do best, after all. You accept the risks and you take the challenges. All in a day’s work. Still, the more difficult part has yet to come. This planet’s atmosphere is no joke. Even a few minutes of unadulterated skin contact on the surface of that planet could burn away your skin. That’s why you’ll need to head over to the medical wing so they can decide you’re in good enough condition to risk it, as well as give you necessary supplements to provide some protection against the acidity of the atmosphere. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to catch up with a friend, and you’ve never turned that down, either.

Your footsteps are quick as you hurry out of the bridge and down the sprawling corridors towards the medical wing. It’s as busy as ever, with blue-shirted figures darting in and out wherever you look. Still, in all of their chaos and yours, you manage to locate the one man you’re here to see in record time.

Doctor Leonard McCoy, known to some as the most intimidating medical professional on the Enterprise and to his friends as Bones, has just finished sending one patient on their way when he’s confronted with the sight of another one. Unlike most of the invalids to cross his path, though, Bones doesn’t greet you with an unhappy harrumph, nor even a sarcastic comment about what you did to land yourself in the med wing. Instead, he almost smiles. 

“Y/N. Good to see you. I don’t suppose you’re here to help out or do something nice for me?” He says dryly.

You grin. “Afraid not, Bones. I need a favor.”

He arches a dark brow, crossing the room to replenish a container of syringes. “What favor? If it’s anything more than verbal, you’re going to have to join the patient waitlist.”

You wince. “See, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. I need you to clear me for contact with the planet. ASAP.”

Bones actually stops moving for once in his life just so he can stare incredulously at you. “Are you out of your mind? I thought Jim declared any activity on that planet to be a risk to life and resources.”

“He did,” you admit, “but that’s why I’m joining the party. The more the merrier, apparently. Uhura says she wants someone down there with functioning critical thinking skills so she can balance out Jim. We’ll be fine so long as we stick together, but I need you to clear me first.”

Bones folds his arms across his chest. “So all I have to do to stop you from going into a trap this big is to just refuse to check your condition? Done.”

You pull a face. “Bones, I’m not kidding. We have to do this.”

“Neither am I,” he fires back. “This is a stupid move and Jim knows that. I’m not letting him lose half the superior officers of this ship all at once. You’re all going to get yourselves killed. Hate me if you want, sweetheart, but I’m keeping you alive. That’s what the medical officer is supposed to do, by the way, in case you forgot.”

You sigh. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but we have to do this, you know that. Besides, if you won’t clear me, I’ll just find someone who will. Would it make you sleep easier at night if you refused to take a look at me so I made an intern give me the meds I need to breathe down there? I’m sure they’d get the prescription right on the first try.”

Bones blows a sharp breath out, but when it becomes clear that you aren’t willing to back down, he purses his lips and relents. “Fine. You’re too damn stubborn for your own good, by the way.”

You crack a grin. “From you, Bones, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He hems and haws while he runs the necessary scans, but when you walk out of the med wing, you do so with the perfect combination of supplements and injections to enable you to breathe the toxic atmosphere on the planet without dying. You’ll all be in thick suits anyway, but just in case, it’s important to take these steps to protect yourselves now. Hopefully, you won’t need them, but the downsides of skipping them are much worse than the inconvenience of a couple extra shots.

Bones makes sure to remind you of this before you go. He warns you to stay out of trouble, knowing full well that there’s no chance of that, but you nod along anyway. You glance over your shoulder right before you leave the med wing, and catch a glimpse of him staring after you, brow knit with anxiety. At this point, you have to return from this mission intact not just for your own good but his as well.

Jim and the others are finalizing the plan when you get back to the bridge. He feigns surprise when you walk in, although he can’t hide a broad grin. “Bones let you go that easily? Maybe he’s losing his touch.”

You arch a brow. “What does that mean?”

Your captain laughs. “It means he’s very protective of you. It’s cute.”

You make a face. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you call Bones cute, and now I wish I never did.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “I’m just trying to connect to you, Y/N. I thought you’d agree with that. You two only ever spend time with each other anyway, aren’t you—”

He’s studiously interrupted by Uhura calling everyone to focus so you can get down to the planet as soon as possible. You don’t miss the pointed look she gives to Jim the second they think your back is turned, but you’ve been seeing a lot of those lately, and they only get easier to ignore. 

Contrary to what is apparently the popular belief on the Enterprise, you’re not in a relationship with Bones. It’s startling how many people here think you are, but you’re not. You’re just friends. No matter how many times Jim points out that Bones is oddly friendly and warm towards you, and offenses committed by Jim that earn hours of yelling only receive a small frown when you repeat them, the truth is the same. Jim may have a romantic goal for you and Bones, but it’s not happening. 

What is happening, however, is the mission at hand. After conferring for a while longer, you have Scotty beam all of you down to the planet surface. The ground underneath your feet is rocky and uneven, so you’ll have to be cautious. One bad spill could leave you with a torn suit, and even with your medical boosters, you want as little contact with the toxic environment as possible.

You and the others quickly make your way to the downed escape pod. Once there, you spread out, spreading a connective net between all of you before setting it on the ground and activating it. A temporary shield forms a dome in the air, sealing off the ground from the poison clouds floating low through the air. Once the life support cycles through, it’s safe for anyone without a suit to breathe. It’ll wear out soon though, especially while taking a continuous beating from the noxious gas outside, so you’ll have to move quickly.

You hurry over to the pod, knocking twice on the side before calling for them to come out. Slowly, a hatch on the side retracts, and five travelers come out, eyes wide and scared. Uhura hands them some suits, urging the victims to put them on quickly. They don’t need to be told twice, hurriedly pulling on the suits while you count down the seconds before you need to move again.

Although helpful when combating the toxic atmosphere, you won’t be able to beam up while you’re in the shield dome due to the energy signature currently keeping you alive. You’ll have to slowly let people out of the dome and hope that their suits stay stable long enough for Scotty up above to lock onto their signatures and safely retrieve them. 

One by one, the members of the doomed escape pod leave the safety of the dome. You watch them get beamed up one by one, listening to your earpiece to know when to send up the next one. Finally, the last of them is ready to be sent up, and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief. At last, an Enterprise mission that goes according to plan. 

See, you should have known better than to jinx it like that. It’s common knowledge around here that the moment you decide something is going according to plan, you’ll be proven wrong in a heartbeat, and the galaxy likes nothing better than to mess with all of you. 

So, of course, not a fraction of a second later than the time you think you’ll be alright, you notice a gap between the dome and the ground. The surface of this planet is rocky, you noticed it when you first landed. One of the escapees must have knocked into the dome generator while you were pulling them out. It wouldn’t have taken much to disrupt the field, not when it’s been fighting the acidity of the environment around you for so long. 

And, as you watch with horrified eyes, the toxic sludge from outside has already started to make its way in. All it takes is one drop. One drop, to start to wear away at the protective coating of the generators. One drop, to make its way inside the machinery. One drop, to cause a chain reaction that ends with the energy of the dome cycling back in on itself and exploding.

You have just enough time to shout for everyone to take cover before the thing goes nuclear. The last person stuck on the doomed escape pod is right beside you, and you fling your body over them to protect them from the blast. The impact slams into you a heartbeat later, knocking you to the ground. Your suit can take a beating from the toxic gas, but not a self destructing energy shield generator, and if it wasn’t already weakened from the blast, tumbling over sharp rocks is more than enough to tear holes in the side.

Instantly, the toxic gas rushes in. You scream out, feeling the poisonous fumes eating away at your skin. Everything is metallic and agonizing, the taste of copper radiating through your mouth. Somewhere in the background, you can hear Jim yelling for Scotty to beam you up now, but it’s hard to hear him distinctly when your vocal chords are taut in one constant cry of pain. You manage to endure another few seconds before blacking out, and although unconsciousness is always a bad sign when you’re on a foreign planet, your last satisfied thought before you pass out is that at least you won’t have to feel the pain anymore.

It’s quiet for a long time, dark and quiet. Peaceful, almost. You wake up slowly. It hurts to open your eyes because it’s so bright compared to the hazy blackness behind your lids, but it gets easier after a while. When you’re finally able to piece together the fact that you’re on a bed in the med wing, secluded from the main hustle and bustle so you can heal in privacy, you also realize that you’re not alone. Bones is sitting in a chair drawn up close beside you, head in shaky hands.

Bones. Oh, he must be irate. All those warnings about keeping you safe and then you went and hurt yourself like this. It wasn’t like you wanted to have your skin melted off by a toxic planet, but that’s how it goes when you try to save people. Bones, however, doesn’t care about the rest. He cares about you, as he’s put it plainly several times.

You reach over, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything alright, Doc?”

He jerks up, startled, although the panic in his eyes starts to abate when he realizes you’re conscious. “I think I should be asking you that. You’re the one who came back in a pool of your own blood.”

You wince. “How bad was it?”

“Very,” he says, and that one word contains with it the gravity of a lifetime.

You can imagine how it must have gone for him, then. Bones, biding his time up in the med wing, patching up patients to distract himself from not knowing what was going down on the surface of the planet. He would have told himself it would be fine because you said it would be fine, and just as he got halfway to believing it, Jim would have rushed through the doors carrying your unconscious, bleeding, actively diminishing body. What a ghastly scene.

“You patched me up pretty well, though. I don’t feel anything.” You tell him, mostly to try and lift that desperate look on his face.

Bones lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s what a cocktail of painkillers will do for you. You’ll take a while to recover, though. I can’t stop that.”

From the way he keeps shooting nervous glances at your side, though, you can tell that he wishes more than anything that he could stop it. The two of you wait in patient, terrible silence, and then Bones gives in and says what he’s been holding back all this time.

“It’s just– Dammit, Y/N, I thought you were going to die. When they brought you in, you weren’t moving. Your heart was barely even beating. I can keep giving you pills and bandages when you need them, but that won’t be enough to bring you back from the dead. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I could lose the ship, I could lose the rest of the crew, I could lose myself, but I can’t lose you.”

Your breath is shallow in your chest, and not just because of the injury. “Why?”

“You know why,” he says, refusing to look at you.

“I want to hear you say it,” you tell him.

A silence. A drawn breath. “I love you,” he says at last, “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. Didn’t know it until I thought you were dead. Didn’t think I’d have to say it until you woke up.”

Bones is not one to beat around the bush, but he still waits a beat or too longer before forcing himself to look back at you. His eyes cut to you in one clean jerk, like ripping off a bandage. You’re not here to hurt him, though. Not anymore.

“I love you too,” you tell him. “Probably longer than you.”

“There’s no reason to make this a contest,” Bones chides you, but he’s starting to smile at last.

“Why not? Scared I’ll win?” You laugh.

Bones tries to glare, but the corners of his mouth refuse to tamp down into anything sober or serious. “Cut that out.”

“Make me,” you challenge him, and he takes you up on your word by leaning forward abruptly to kiss you.

Of all the things to make you go silent, that might be your favorite. It’ll take you a while to heal, but maybe it’s not the worst thing to be stuck in the med wing for a while longer. You and Bones have plenty of things to talk about in the meantime.

star trek tag list: @w1shes43

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[lamelycool]

𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑡ℎ 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑀𝑒 (𝑆𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

"I'm sorry... This is all my fault I should've payed more attention I should have... I don't know I just wish-"

"There is nothing you could have done to change this. It is not your fault." Spock calmy states.

You begin to notice the slight shiver in his voice, and the growing green tint to his skin that's increasing along side the dropping temperature. It really concerns you. The cold must be getting to him. Gods, all of this because of a shuttle crash. The two of you were luckily this planet happened to be inhabitable. Well Inhabitable... but unpleasantly freezing. There's no telling how cold it must feel for Spock with his Vulcan heritage.

"T'hy'la are you alright?" Spock asks breaking your train of thought.

"Sorry, I just... I just feel useless. Sitting here freezing just waiting for the Enterprise to rescue us. If they even rescue us."

"The Enterprise will likely rescue us do not worry. " The unspoken question of when is avoided. There's not telling how long it will take. Hours, days, or worse... The two of you go silent.

"Are you cold? " You eventually speak up.

"I am adequate. "

"Spock, please don't lie... "

"Vulcans do not li-" you cut him off by reaching out a hand placing it against Spock's cheek. You gasp jolting your hand back.

"You are freezing cold! Why didn't you tell me?!" You panic and quickly shed your emergency blanket wrapping it around Spock.

"I did not want to tell you, I do not want to worry you. Please...keep your blanket you need it." Spock shivers out.

"Spock... please let me warm you? "

Spock paused then reluctantly nods. He uncovers himself holding his arms out for you to crawl into. Seems he already knew what you were planing. You snuggle up into him and cradle him close.

"May I touch your hands? "

"You always may. "

"Thank you... " you take his hands in yours gently holding them and rubbing them. Then you breathe warm air on them, breathing warmth into him like you always manage to do.

[capan-deveraux2]

Why do I get crushes on the most obscure characters?

Like Anthony (the angel of death) on Touched by an Angel

Look at this cutie patooti!! How can I not love him!!

Or Chris Halliwell from Charmed

He’s a smart ass and I love him for it! He just wants to save his brothers soul

Or Ambassador Tos from Star Trek Enterprise

THERE ARE NO GIFS OF HIM!!!!

Why are there no GIFs he’s adorable

Or Judge Harry Stone from Night Court

Or Dan fielding also from Night Court (the second guy in the above gif)

Or Jenkins from The Librarians

But to be fair I might just have a crush on the actor

Or Dr Phlox also from Enterprise

He’s a family man!! He got 3 wives and so much love to give, towards the end of the series when he can’t save T’Pols, and Tuckers baby’s life he cries and says it hurts like it’s one of his own. So much love in this man that when his friends hurt he hurts

And he feels insulted when Tucker doesn’t want to sleep with one of his wives after she pursues him so we know he’s good with sharing lol

Or Ringo Langley from X-Files and The Lone Gunmen

(The blonde one in the middle here)

He’s such a sweetheart cutie pie!! How can one not love him! He plays dungeons and dragons and dresses up like his character when he does and writes for a newspaper. He matches my freak lol

Or Graverobber from Repo the Genetic Opera

He’s so dramatic!! I love him. He sings ! And I love his hair!

Or Odo from Deep Space Nine

WHY CANT I FIND A GOOD GIF OF HIM!!!

And finally (at the risk of being called a furry

Why is the no reader inserts for Skimbleshanks, Mr mistoffles, or Rum Tum Tugger!!!

THERE IS NO GOOD GIFS OF SKIMBLSHANKS!!

But look at my boi mistofflees hop and dance, he’s a tuxedo cat that’s also a magician!!

And look a tugger go! He’s a bad boi stereotype

I ran out of room for gifs but those are the main ones anyway

I’m gonna have to make an appreciation post for each of these guys individually, hell I used to write fanfic for a couple of them before I got locked out of my old tumblr account

[smbiotics]

[A little snippet of what I've been working on the past couple of days. This can totally be read as a pre-relationship oneshot all on its own honestly, but I've got it in my head recently that an ensign Jim Kirk accepting an assignment on an entirely Vulcan-manned science vessel with Spock as it's captain would be incredibly compelling. Enjoy!]

He comes to in a room shrouded in darkness, the only hints of illumination from moonlight slanting through lateral steel beams framing the exterior wall like a decorative trim. Aside from this detail, Jim can sparsely make out any other features of his prison, though he does assess that there is another organic lifeform within the confines of the space fairly quickly.

With an undignified yelp, Jim startles backward at the sound of the creature breathing scant inches from him. A confusing jumble of limbs and the ache of joint over-extension follows, further disorienting the near-blind officer, until—

And thank God, actually, because Jim would recognize that voice over his own.

“Ensign,” says the voice, not without its fair share of exasperation.

“Captain,” he breathes, so greatly relieved to find he isn’t about to be eaten by some foreign predator in an undisclosed location. “Oh, fuck. I thought I was a goner for sure. Where the hell are we?”

Spock clicks his tongue, clearly displeased by the vulgarity but also not so much to properly chastise him. “We appear to be prisoners.” He says this in the same way most humans would informally follow up with, duh. Though he isn’t sure there is enough lighting for anyone to witness it, Jim grins triumphantly nonetheless.

Experimentally, Jim tests the feeling in his hands by wiggling his fingers. Above him, Spock hisses out something in Vulcan and one of his legs kick down and jars Jim, yanking on the juncture where their arms are still very, very attached. It’s a wonder his elbows don’t pull right out of socket.

A twinge in his arm reminds him of his rather precarious position. Spock seems to have gotten the better end of the strapped-to-another-person deal, since he has the good fortune to be able to lean comfortably against the exterior wall, legs extended and bent at the knee. Between which, of course (just his luck), Jim lies sprawled on his belly, yellow shirt riding up and exposing a strip of said torso to the cool ground below him. He has never wished he followed regulation more stringently before in his life; at least if he had in this instance, his tucked black undershirt would have saved him a modicum of dignity. Hindsight, twenty-twenty, whatever. Then, his attention is drawn to his hands, which are attached to some terribly tingly arms.

The metal cuffs—if they can rightly be called such—cover his arms to the elbow and cross at his wrists, entirely encasing every inch of skin between. Spock’s cuffs mirror his. At the palms, the cuffs wrap around only the backs of their hands, pressing their palms pretty snuggly together, right to right and left to left. As if the discomfort couldn’t get any worse, the connection of their cuffs extends to the wrists, leaving very little room for finding any position even remotely comfortable.

“Son of bitch,” Jim curses into the cement flooring with a regulation boot digging insistently into his side. Spock seems to shake out whatever the hell had briefly possessed him, because the foot retreats quickly after that.

“So,” he asks after several long seconds of breathing unevenly into the ground. “Is this the new normal? Will we have to learn to cohabitate? I’m kind of a slob.”

“Your incessant witticisms are unwelcome,” Spock states emphatically.

“They’re welcome everywhere, Captain. It’s a universal fact.”

“I do not doubt that you believe that.”

“Aww, you know me so well,” Jim coos, though the faux flirting does fall a little flat when he can’t flash his big ol’ doe eyes at Spock. “Look at us! We’re practically married already. Fair warning: I’m a high-maintenance gal.”

Spock doesn’t respond for a moment, and for a second Jim wilts, assuming he won’t rise to the bait. Then, as if the Vulcan just can’t help himself, he says, “Strictly for clarification purposes, I am compelled to ask: does your self-identification as a ‘high-maintenance gal,’” (Jim can sense the air quotes. They aren’t physical ones—he would feel them against his own palms—but they’re there, all the same.) “extend past impromptu quips, or does it, like most of your other unsolicited narrations, serve only to disarm?”

“Oh, now we’re flirting? The Captain thinks I’m disarming,” Jim sing-songs, then wriggles around inelegantly on the ground in an effort to ease the ache in his joints, trying to ignore the fact that Spock’s crotch is about half a foot from his face. After much uninterrupted shuffling, he lets out a frustrated grunt. He may not be claustrophobic, but anyone would be greatly agitated by the sheer lack of mobility being chained up from elbow to wrist creates. “Listen, I hate to be the kind of guy to complain, but I gotta get out of these cuffs. And, barring that option, I at least have got to sit up or risk needing a double amputation of the arms. Or insanity. Whichever comes first.”

Spock stays quiet, but he does shuffle backwards a touch before carefully raising their joined arms. The leverage allows Jim to get his knees up under him, then from there he sort of–pauses.

He’s got options, for sure, but none are exactly inspiring.

Up on his knees like this, fingertips pressed to fingertips, Jim realizes just how close their bondage forces them, especially in the search for comfort. He could sidle his knees up to press flush against Spock’s thighs. Fuck.

“Ensign?” Spock addresses drily, perhaps curious as to why Jim has stopped both his incessant speech and his restless wriggling all at once. He still can’t see much, not with the hailing dark of the room, but his eyes have adjusted enough that he can pretty clearly make out the milk chocolate of Spock’s eyes, and for fuck’s sake, that is doing wayyy too much for him.

But he’s gotta talk, or risk being caught staring like a creep.

“Hnngh,” he manages, then wishes he could smack a hand to his face. “Sorry. Something stuck in my throat. Dry. Dry mouth, ‘cause I’m thirsty.”

“You have been unconscious throughout the duration of our stay.” Like it’s some sort of vacation. “In this time, I have calculated that we are monitored every two-point-two-three hours. As they have each time before, I am certain that, during their next patrol, our captors will provide necessary sustenance that will reduce your discomfort.”

Jesus, like wading through shallow water every time he opens his mouth. “Wonderful.” Then, before he can think better of it, he asks, “Permission to straddle your lap, Captain?”

Although his expression does not technically change, Jim imagines it might take on an even more bored look. “Permission denied.”

“But Captain. Caaaaptaaain. Please. My knees are falling asleep.”

“Permission considered. Permission pending.” Spock pauses as if actually thinking, but neither his expression changes nor do his eyes even waver from boring directly into Jim’s. “Permission denied.”

Spock’s eyes widen practically microscopically, but Jim catches it because he’s not just looking; oh, no, he’s fucking searching.

“Don’t make me wiggle my fingers again.” It’s a pretty hollow threat in the scheme of things, yet they still drag a greater reaction out of Spock than anything else he’s said yet as his eyes dart down at their joined hands and back up again. Those brown eyes assess his, as if trying to pin down just how serious he is, so Jim (curious; always too curious for his own good…) allows juuust his pinky to barely, barely shift to the left.

“Permission granted,” Spock finally allows, a strange but unidentifiable quality to his voice.

Gleefully, Jim pushes higher up onto his knees and sways his balance back and forth to individually swing both legs over Spock’s. After some minor adjusting, Jim finally settles back onto Spock’s strong thighs and thinks (because he can’t say it out loud without probably being murdered), damn. Probably the first motherfucker to sit here, huh?

Spock says nothing, but it is clear he could be more comfortable, for sure. Which is totally fair, because sitting in his ship captain’s lap isn’t Jim’s first choice for leisure. Sure, he’s thought about it in more recreational settings. This exact position, even, though maybe without the excessive bondage. It's suuuper taboo—but that just makes the idea of it that much hotter, ‘specially for Jim.

And, fuck, for the life of him he cannot get those eyes out of his head; the eye contact is so focused that it bleeds everything to the wayside… to be fucked with those eyes looking right into his soul—

“James,” Spock interrupts his rumination, sounding strangled. Jim’s instantly on high alert, certain there is an immediate threat that he hasn’t caught onto yet, so he leans this way and that to look around. He doesn’t sense anything—a pin drop would be deafening in the still quietness of their cell. With furrowed brows, he returns his gaze to his Captain’s, and kind of freezes in place.

Because Spock is—no. Surely it isn’t possibly, but newly gathered evidence would certainly argue with him. In the dimness of the room, Jim can just barely make out a tinge of green dusting Spock’s face. He’s blushing. No fucking way.

“No fucking way,” Jim repeats aloud. “Vulcans can blush?”

It doesn’t occur to him, in this exact moment, to really consider the why.

Spock averts his gaze. Well. His eyes shift from making direct eye contact to looking at the space marginally to the left of Jim’s eyes. “No,” he admits. Then, just as quickly as he had noticed the distinct coloration, it dissipates like it had never been there at all.

“You totally made that go away. How did you do that? Do you just—suck it back up into your body, or something? Like breathing through gills?”

“A wildly inaccurate comparison,” he says thinly. “And assumption, for that matter.”

What Jim wouldn’t give to jab him in the cheek right now, superior officer be damned. He’d risk it all right now just for some good ol’ fashioned slapstick. (It’s been far too long since he’s yucked it up with another human in person.)

“Ain’t you cute,” Jim adopts a seriously terribly southern drawl. “Blushing ‘cause you got a hot piece of ass in your lap.”

Oh, and thus appears the eyebrow of death: Spock’s always so good at looking greatly disappointed without a drop of emotion altering his expression.

“What, hit the nail on the head, did I?”

“As there are currently no implements within our reach to carry out such an activity, I should say not.”

Jim leans forward conspiratorially. “Was that a joke, Captain? A–what’d you call it? Incessant witticism? Careful, sir, I think your fondness is showing!” He can tell that Spock is physically preventing himself from reacting in any way that could be considered emotional, which is so thrilling. If just a little teasing can get him riled up like this, Jim wonders what Spock would do with a mouth wrapped around his—

“Jim.” Uh-oh. That’s a, you’ve been caught watching porn on the school desktop, ‘Jim.’ Like a deer-in-headlights, he blinks innocently down at Spock. “I can only assume that you did not attend a culture sensitivity seminar regarding Vulcans prior to your assignment to my ship.”

Oh. That’s not exactly what he was expecting. “Sure, I did. It was required. I mainly slept through it, though. Memorized enough to pass the exit exam.”

Clearly frustrated and mad about that, Spock shutters between furrowing his brows and smoothing them to their neutral position. Very carefully, very slowly, like Jim is a child: “Vulcan telepathy is limited to touch.”

Jim blinks. Then, blinks again. And once more as he glances down to where their hands rest splayed palm to palm.

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

Abruptly, Jim’s face flames up, a perfect parallel to his Vulcan counterpart just minutes ago. “Oh, fuck,” he acknowledges blandly. “Captain, I’m so sorry. God. That’s… well. That’s unfortunate, is what it is, that I didn’t know that like ten minutes ago. I woulda kept my, erm, impulsive human thoughts under tighter lock and key.” He drops his head backwards, staring unseeingly at the pitch black ceiling. “I’ve violated like�� fifteen sexual harassment regulations.”

“Surely only fourteen,” Spock states in his typical monotonous tenor, and Jim bursts out laughing, leaning a little more into the Captain’s space.

“God, I bet you’d get crucified telling a joke like that to another Vulcan,” Jim teases, and he doesn’t really notice but their foreheads nearly brush with their renewed proximity. Any closer and the strain on their arms would probably snap Jim back into awareness, into how wildly unprofessional and inappropriate he continues to be with his fucking captain, but Spock has been nothing if not receptive to the attention—the flirting—the touch…

Their noses brush. Jim can’t tell if he’s the only one leaning in, but he can tell that Spock’s eyes have sort of gone half-lidded, that they continue to dart between Jim’s eyes and his lips, and if that isn’t an invite in and of itself—

But of course, this is the precise moment when the door swings open, and two large lifeforms enter with an imposing Vulcan woman trailing behind them. First Officer T’mock salutes Spock, and the hiss-and-click between his and Jim’s body precedes the dull thud of their cuffs coming loose and releasing them.

After that, well. It’s a whirlwind of labyrinthine prison cells and heated negotiating with the locals, but then they’re being beamed aboard the Duhal’im once more where they belong, and Spock doesn’t even look his way once.

Despite everything else that happened in that room, it’s Jim’s fingertips that tingle for hours after their hands separate.

[make-me-imagine]

Time to Kill

Request: Jim Kirk + “Cozy Autumn day watching Halloween films”

Requested By: Anonymous

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Gn!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: None, just some cute autumn fluff.

Words: 632

You smiled with contentment as you finished laying the soft blankets on the bed. Lying down, you checked that the projection screen was set up just right before you dimmed the lights and turned on the fake fire nearby. The windows showed beautiful fall trees swaying in a light rainy breeze, and for a moment, you really did forget you were on Starship deep in space.

Halloween was approaching on Earth, and the whole ship buzzed with ideas of Halloween parties and costume contests. As you traveled to a distant area of space, you had time to kill, so the crew was allowed to do as they pleased.

Time to kill, also meant, the two of you could relax and have a cozy evening all to yourself. Something Jim was more than happy about.

Hearing a buzz at the door, you looked over to see it slide open, revealing Jim, clad in a cozy outfit, holding a tray brimmed with various foods and snacks.

You grinned as you locked eyes and you felt a warmth fill your chest as he walked over to the bed.

"Wow" He smiled as he looked around, noting all of the various changes you had made to give his suite the perfect autumn vibe.

"You like it?" You asked a bit uncertainly.

He smiled at you as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I love it, its perfect."

You smiled in relief, before your eyes widened a bit, seeing all of the food he had brought. You recognized old Earth Halloween candy, as well as some of your favorite sweets. There were small cakes, chips and dip, and hot chocolate complete with mini marshmallows.

"And how did I do?" He asked with a smile.

You grinned up at him, "Perfect."

He clapped his hands, "So we ready then?"

You nodded happily as you gingerly moved the tray to the middle of the bed, allowing Jim to climb in next to you. He let out a relaxed sigh as he leaned back.

Looking over his shoulder he quirked his brow. "Where did you get all of these pillows?"

You grinned, "I'm a comfort hoarder, you know this."

He chuckled, "Right."

He reached out his arm as you settled in to lean against him, hot chocolate in hand.

Grabbing a PAD he started to flick through the various movies you had downloaded for the evening.

"Ooh, we have to watch this later." He smiled as he pointed at Beetlejuice.

You nodded, "Of course."

"Hmm, but first." He stopped on a movie in the list and your eyes widened. You had not downloaded that one.

Immediately you shook your head, "Absolutely not."

He scoffed, "Why not? IT's a classic!"

"I don't care if it's a classic, I hate it!"

"Oh come on, it's not that bad!"

"IT is that bad" you chuckled "I watched it as a kid and it gave me nightmares, and it made me hate clowns."

"If we aren't watching IT then we aren't watching Hocus Pocus."

You gasped as you sat up, setting down your hot chocolate before you spilled it. "Those movies are not comparable! And Hocus Pocus is so much better!"

He shook his head stubbornly and you pouted at him, your eyes glaring playfully. He glared back, but you saw his resolve failing as his eyes drifted to the pout on your lips.

He finally let out a sigh and rested his head back. "Fine, we can watch Hocus Pocus, BUT, we have to watch a different horror movie if we can't watch IT."

You thought for a moment before nodding "Okay, fine, but nothing with clowns!"

He chuckled, grabbing you and pulling you back into his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple "Okay, nothing with clowns."

xx End xx

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[nixii-sabre]

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[dontaskchaosandco]

drawing poll backlog time again (part 1)

[captainsophiestark]

Corn Maze

Bones McCoy x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Trek

Summary: Y/N's best friend dragged her into a corn maze at the local harvest festival to celebrate finishing their last round of Starfleet exams. She quickly losesher friend in the maze, but luckily, she's not the only one with a friend who drags her into ridiculous situations.

Word Count: 1,772

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Why did I let my friends convince me this was a good idea?" I mumbled, rubbing my arms to try to stay warm. The sun had set while I was trapped in the corn maze, and now it was getting a little too cold for comfort.

I wandered a few more steps through the maze, looking for any sign of my friends or an exit. Nothing.

Why did I let them talk me into this? Worse, why did I agree to split up?

I never realized before, but corn took on an eerie quality in the dark. The stalks rustled slightly in the breeze, and I felt goosebumps run up my spine. It felt like someone else was there with me, just beyond the next row of corn...

Cautiously, hating every minute of it, I tip toed towards the next corner in the maze. I tried to settle my nerves, but when I turned the corner I came face to face with a strange, shadowy man.

"AH!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, jumping back and flailing my arms out in front of me.

"Ah! Dammit!" yelled the man, also jumping back and clutching his heart. I heard him grumble something under his breath that sounded like "I'm gonna kill Jim."

"Who are you?" I demanded, getting my wits back. I stayed tense, ready to take off running at a moment's notice.

"Name's McCoy, but you can call me Bones," he said, straightening up and looking me up and down. "Who're you?"

"Y/F/N Y/L/N. Why are you out in a corn maze after dark?"

"Ladies first," said Bones, crossing his arms and giving me an expectant stare. I squinted at him, trying to weigh my options. If he was some murderer out here, he probably would've tried to kill me already, right?

I sighed, giving in. "My friends and I are about to graduate from Star Fleet Academy. Since tests and everything are finally over, we decided to take the weekend to celebrate. They thought the corn maze looked fun, I got dragged along, we got separated, and now I'm here."

Bones scoffed. "That sounds familiar."

"Same thing happen to you?"

"Just about, except we've been out of the academy for a couple years now. Somehow he still manages to make me do stupid things like this."

"Yeah, I have a couple friends like that. I can already see them dragging me into the same stuff even five years from now."

Bones chuckled and shook his head, then looked back at me.

"Well, since we're both out of our element here, we might as well be in this together. Which way should we try now?" he asked.

"I came from one way, you came from the other. We're both still here, so there's only one option left," I said, pointing to the path ahead of us.

"I guess that makes as much sense as anything else."

We started walking, neither of us saying a word. It was pretty awkward, and I almost preferred the dark creepy corn maze silence. After a few more steps without a word, I decided to speak up and try to make things a little less tense.

"So, you're in Starfleet?" I asked.

"Yup. I regret it a lot some days, but I'm still here."

"What's your position?"

"I'm the CMO of the Enterprise."

I stuttered a step when he said that. Not only was he the Chief Medical Officer, which was incredibly impressive for someone his age, but he was the Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise, the best ship in the fleet!

"Wait, seriously?" I asked, walking a little faster to catch back up to him. "That's amazing! The Enterprise is my dream placement. What is that even like?"

"You ever been hung over?"

Not the response I was expecting, I'll admit. Still, I tried to roll with it.

"Uh... once or twice."

"Imagine the worst hangover you've ever had, and then imagine that times three. That's what being the CMO of the Enterprise is like."

"Damn. You know, you sound pretty cranky and jaded for someone your age."

Bones sighed and looked up at the sky as we walked. He didn't say anything for a minute, but when he finally did, he sounded incredibly tired.

"I don't like space. The only reason I went up there in the first place was to get away from things here."

I hummed. "Fair enough, I guess. But is it really worth staying if there's nothing you like about it?"

He was silent for another long stretch, then finally, he spoke without looking at me.

"Space is dangerous and stupid. It's a true fact. But... there are worse things than living through the ridiculous nonsense I've lived through with the people on that ship. Sometimes it's even interesting."

I smiled to myself. I was starting to get a read on Bones, and he seemed to have a much softer center than he wanted to let on.

After a moment, he quickly cleared his throat.

"Besides, it's not like I have much choice. Those idiots wouldn't have survived half this long if they didn't have me."

I grinned. "Well, assuming my test scores are what I'm hoping they'll be, I can't wait to be one of those idiots in a few weeks."

Bones snorted and cut his eyes towards me. I just kept grinning at him, and after a minute, he sighed.

"Get us out of this corn maze, and then I'll decide how I feel about you becoming one of those idiots."

"Deal."

The task of wandering around in the maze became easier, if only because I now got to do it with someone else I liked instead of being cold and lost in the dark by myself. The two of us chatted as we walked, first about plans for escape but that quickly turned into talk about other things, from favorite animals to academy stories and everything else in between.

Slowly, Bones started to warm up to me, and I felt the same. I even managed to get a few smiles out of him, and I found my heart skipping a beat or two each time I did. It got to the point that I wasn't sure how quickly I wanted to find the exit anymore.

Still, we couldn't just wander the maze forever. Working together, we eventually managed to find some of the more worn paths of the maze, and it wasn't long before we turned a corner and found the exit.

I grinned, stopping short instead of walking straight out of the maze. Bones apparently took the cue, and he stopped too, turning to me with one eyebrow raised.

"I just wanted to say, before we go out there... this was fun. I'll never admit it to my friend, which is part of why I stopped before we got out there, but... I'm glad I got lost in a corn maze with you. And I hope we get to work together on the Enterprise."

Bones sighed, long and heavy, then finally looked back at me. After a moment, just when I'd started to get nervous, the corner of his mouth tweaked up into a smile.

"I'll never admit this to anyone again, so don't expect me to repeat it. But I might've had fun with you too. And I'd definitely like to see you on the Enterprise."

I grinned at him, and he shared a smile of his own briefly before turning back towards the exit of the maze. It was dark, so I couldn't be sure, but I thought I noticed a faint blush on the back of his neck, too.

We stepped past the final row of corn and were greeted by smiling faces. One I recognized as my best friend, and the other I recognized as none other than the Captain of the USS Enterprise. Apparently he was the idiot friend Bones had been talking about, and I honestly couldn't tell how I felt about that.

"Bones! You made it out! And you met a friend."

Captain James T. Kirk fixed me with the most sly, knowing grin of all time as he held his hand out to me for a handshake.

"Jim. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"...You too," I said. I couldn't help feeling a little starstruck, but the bubble popped a second later when Bones smacked him on the back of the head. I laughed, and any remaining tension faded as my friend joined us and introduced herself to Bones.

"So, your friend said you're hoping to join the crew of the Enterprise," said Jim, the beaming smile back on his face post-smack. I nodded.

"It's my dream posting, like most of the rest of the academy. Hopefully all that awful studying and test-taking will be worth it."

"It wasn't for me. But luckily, I have a good CMO and friend to help me when I need it."

Bones huffed and rolled his eyes, but I could see a smile fighting to break out on his face all the same.

"Well, since we've done everything here, we were planning to go get a late dinner somewhere," my friend said. "Do you two want to join us?"

Jim and Bones shared a look, and I took the distraction to whip around and look at my friend with wide eyes. She just grinned, nodding in Bones and Jim's direction to make sure I knew she knew exactly what she was doing. I just sighed.

"We'd love to," said Jim. "I even know a great place not far from here."

"Perfect."

The four of us started walking, Bones and I falling slightly behind our friends and walking side by side. I bumped him lightly with my shoulder and fixed him with a smile.

"So... the friends that ditched us are definitely paying for dinner, right?"

Bones laughed, and butterflies exploded in my chest at the sound. It didn't last long, but it was a real, full laugh, not a huff or a scoff, and I knew I wanted to hear that sound as many more times as I possibly could.

"Definitely. I might be glad I met you, but they didn't know that would happen, so they get no credit for it."

"Exactly."

We shared a smile, and then the two of us fell into comfortable silence, smiles still on our faces, as we followed our friends into our own brave new world.

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

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[secretsoftheuniverse1987]

my sun, my moon, and all my stars is quite possibly my favorite thing I've ever written because I wrote it in a daze with so little knowledge of the source material and in the months since I've written it, I've oscillated wildly between "this is absolute slop, the likes of which I do not wish to be associated with" and "this is perhaps the most impressive feat of writing I've ever accomplished and I want it on repeat"