#write dang it

Yancy was a tough person. He didn’t like crying in front of anyone and rarely even attempted to lean on someone else for support. He was alone. Surrounded by fellow inmates, those who were his only family in the world, he should feel a resemblance of happiness, but he was alone. 

The best thing about being alone, though, was that no one would judge you when you finally broke down. That’s why Yancy had never asked for a roommate because sadness is best explored in the intoxicating glow of the moon with only your stupid self-preserving heart pumping away. This was Yancy’s most vulnerable state. The one way he would make through the weeks as he felt himself go slowly insane. Then Y/N showed up and messed everything up for Yancy. 

Y/N woke up to the sound of sobs. They carefully peered over the side of the bunk bed to see Yancy curled in a ball. They soundlessly climbed down and sat on the side of the bed. 

“Yancy?”

“Just go away, youse not suppose to see me like this,” He choked as Y/N tried to reach out a comforting hand. 

“Oh darling, you are very broken and no one cares to notice,” These words caused Yancy to stop trying to hide and timidly lay his head in their lap. 

“Please help me.”

Writing diary

Prompt: "shhh, it's okay now, you're safe, I'm here."

Fandom: star trek

Authors note: sorry about so many typos!! Writing this on my phone without much editing due to the lack of internet otherwise.

Misadventures of a time traveler in space...

A resounding crack vibrates through the ship, pulsing waves rocking it like a boat on the water. The captain swallows his rising impatience as he can barely hear over the resounding roar of the emergency systems clicking into place. Everyone's eyes are trained outside the window, looking around, expecting some sort of enemy. Pulling himself to his feet, Kirk shakes off the way touching his chair seems to allow excess energy to route through his veins.

"Scans, Mr. Sulu." He calls, his voice barely heard, but understood.

"No surrounding ships, sir." He states, voice raised to be heard over the alarms, just as it quits sounding. For just a moment, there is silence on the bridge, kirk fighting a small smile at the timing.

"Mr. Scott!" He calls again, waiting for the familiar thick accent to call back. "What's going on down there?" His eyes are still scanning the horizon, looking for abnormalities.

"A couple of fried circuit's, captain. Whatever that was, all it affected was the air cooling system." 

Theres a pause.

"Its going to get hot in here until I can get this figured out."

"Understood." Slowly, he turns back to chekov and sulu, nodding to them. "Anything?"

"A lot of excess electricity, sir, but still no ships."

"Sensors are reading the source to be behind us, captain." Natoya states, sulu taking his cue to turn the ship.

"Is that…?"

"An electrical storm… in space." Bones finished, everyone having been so preoccupied they didn't register the door sliding open.

Silence washes over the bridge crew again, in awe as they watch lightning crack across the surface of the storm, purple and blue clouds twisting and spinning.

"Uh, Captain." Scottys voice calls out again, an odd tension in the engineers voice.

"Yes, Mr. Scott." Kirk calls back, tearing his eyes from the image before him.

"You need to get down here… and being the good doctor, would ya?" Just before he cuts off, he swears he heard scotty speak to someone. Without so much as a glance, kirk, bones and spock race down to engineering, assuming nothing, and expecting everything.

But, whatever they were expecting, it wasnt this.

A young girl sat curled under scottys desk, trembling from every limb, clenching one of scottys screwdrivers like a knife, eyes like saucers.

"Where… where am I?" She asks slowly, trying, and failing, to hide the tremble in her voice.

"The Enterprise." Her eyebrows pinch as her eyes dart between her newest company before they stick to Spock, drawing in a shaky breath.

"The what?"

Bones bends down to her level slowly, hands up to show that they're empty.

"My names McCoy, Leonard McCoy, but my friends call me Bones. I'm a doctor." He assures, she nods slowly, tearing her eyes from Spock to face Bones. "What's your name, kid?"

Swallowing, she closes her eyes for a moment, sound slipping past her lips sounding almost like a whimper. "Ellie." 

"Alright… Ellie," Kirk interjects, voice softening, seeing the fear in her eyes. "How did you get on the ship?"

"I… I dont know. One moment, in the house of mirrors with my friends, riding out a storm, and the next, I'm here."

Kirk and Spock share a look as Bones approaches her slowly, light in hand. "Alright sugar, you're okay now. You're here, you're safe," He begins. "I just want to check you out. She nods, letting him look in her eyes.

"Can you tell me what the stardate is?" Her eyebrows pinch, again.

"Stardate?"

"The year, honey." She pauses, answering confidently.

Illinois was quite possibly the calmest person you had ever known. It made sense, I mean, his job is literally strolling into rigged caves and returning artifacts. You’d be worried if his first reaction was to burst into a rage. You didn’t want to purposely make him mad, but you did want to see what it is like. Is that a crime?

Well, you didn’t expect the way you would observe Illy in rage was over your honor. You and Illy had a strictly work relationship with a dash of close friendship it seemed. Yeah, friends stood up for each other, but Illy knew you could take care of yourself. 

You were wandering through an open-air market in the middle of a blistering desert. You couldn’t take the heat and have resorted to wearing a tank-top and shorts. It was a perfectly normal outfit, but this particular type of asshole decided he had something to say about it. You tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t stop and you were quite ready to knock his lights out.

“Illinois, let me at him,” You whined into his ear. 

“Oh, don’t worry I might do that for you,” Illy’s words seemed to knock the air out of your system as you observed him more closely. His face had become oddly flushed and there was a glint in his eyes that you only saw when he discussed the seeming never-ending curse of the boulders. 

“You’re mad.” 

“So what if I am?”

“I’ve just never seen you display any emotion other than flirt. It’s cute,” He stopped, turned to look at you, and flashed you a wink. 

“Oh! So you think I’m cute when I’m angry? Well, get ready, because I’m about to be GORGEOUS!” He kissed you on the cheek, letting your brain short circuit, and shouted, “Be back in a moment, darlin’.”

You had most definitely not been getting enough sleep. Why else would that broom had moved all the way across the room? 

“Hey, Ben, did you see that?” Ben looked up from his book and eyed you carefully. 

“See what?”

“The broom. It-oh nevermind,” You turned back to the tower of glasses you had decided to stack. 

“If you’re tired, why don’t you just go to bed?”

“Because when I go to sleep I have this funny habit of having these nightmares. That is something that I most definitely don’t enjoy, so instead, I am going to make the tallest tower and then collapse from exhaustion,” You quickly moved to catch the top glass before it fell on the floor.

“You know I get nightmares too,” Ben wouldn’t look up from his book. 

“So what are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything.” 

“You only bring up stuff when you have an idea.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I thought the point of this conversation was that I’m not,” You were about ready to pull your hair out when an idea quickly came over you. “What if we slept together?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Ben choked as he nearly fell out of his chair.

“We could protect each other from the bad dreams and stuff.”

“When I said ‘whatever helps you sleep at night’ I didn't mean THAT.” 

“Just this one time.”

“Fine,” Ben grumbled as you let out a small cheer. No bad dreams were getting you tonight.

“Peter Parker, don’t you dare get blood on my sheets,” You groaned into your pillow as the bed shifted with the weight of the teenage hero. 

“I won’t.”

“Then go take a shower. You’re most definitely sweaty and gross and covered in spider-webs. Don’t say you're not because I know you are and I want to like nice tomorrow without webs everywhere.” 

“But I don’t want to,” Peter whined.

“Peter, I swear to god if you’re on the ceiling I’m going to go get the broom.” 

“Please don’t get the broom.”

“Then go shower. We can watch something afterward or something if you can’t sleep,” Peter simply grumbled and sulked into the shower. You were almost asleep again when he finally returned. He had made the habit of crashing at your house after patrol so prominent that you had started keeping some of his clothes in a pile in your bathroom. 

“When I sleep through math again I’m coming to you for the notes,” You complained into his hair. 

“How do you know I won’t sleep through math?” Peter chuckled. 

“Because I’m letting you crash here for free and you love me.”

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

“Why do you keep coming here anyway?”

“I’m having nightmares and you are the knight in armor that chases them away.”

“So, I guess I’ll have to protect you then.”

“I can’t sleep,” That was the first thing you had ever said to Hermione. You had been attempting to sneak into the library after hours but the Prefect had caught you. There was this one person in your dorm who had this unfortunate habit of attempting to summon the dead with their snoring and you couldn’t take another night of it. 

“So?” Hermione arched her eyebrow as you tried not to get the wind knocked out of your system.

“So, I thought I get a headstart on the homework in Transfiguration, but I released that the book I needed was in the library-”

“And good old fashion rule-breaking was your only way to fix this.”

“Is not you like you haven’t done it either,” You muttered. 

“What?”

“Please don’t get me in trouble. I could do your homework. Oh, shit, you’re Hermione Granger, nevermind. I could make you a scarf. Yeah, a scarf with any design you want,” You half expected Hermione to grab your arm and march you down to the Dumbledoor’s right now. Instead, she laughed and simply pulled a book out of her bag. 

“Here, I have the pages bookmarked and would be more than happy to point out some quotes I found useful. As for the scarf, why don’t you teach me sometime how to make one?”

“You are way chiller about this then I thought you’d be,” You gawked as you clutched the book to your chest. 

“We sit next to each other in History of Magic. You always seem to sleep through to class but have the second-highest grade in the class. I think we could be good friends and it’s not the best for friendships to be founded on animosity,” She blushed. 

“Right, friends,” Were you actually dreaming? “Yes, let’s be friends. See you tomorrow and good night.” 

Why did you say that so loud?

Newt was not equipped to deal with human children. If the kid had an extra arm or breathed fire Newt would be in complete control of the situation. Unfortunately, this was the most normal kid he had ever come across. They weren’t even magical. What was Newt suppose to do? 

Newt and his traveling companion, Y/N, were looking for a kelpie in a remote lake somewhere in Scotland. There were no wizards or muggles around, so how on Earth would there be a baby in a basket, like some type of sacrifice. They weren’t crying and they looked up at the duo with eyes that seemed to beg for love. 

It turns out that Y/N was also not good with children. The two clueless adult-like people, after forgetting that magic was a thing that existed, waded into the water to drag the baby to shore. They then fished their wands out of their pockets and then proceded to dry themselves off. This conformed their belief of the child being a muggle seeing as the poor thing was scared out of its mind as it watched streams of warm air come out of the wands. Their cries flooded the once still air. If Newt and Y/N were still looking for a kelpie, it was most definitely long gone by now.

“What do we do?” Y/N whispered-screamed to Newt.

“Hold them? I don’t know,” Y/N slowly picked up the squirming child. They attempted to cradle the baby like a niffler before realizing that this thing had no neck support.

“There, there. It’s okay, don’t cry. I’ve got you,” Newt cast his patronus and the baby babbled with laughter as he watched a porcupine roll around. This sense of warmth washed over the three of you as you subconsciously settled into the air domesticity. 

“Newt, what are we going to do? You know we can’t keep them.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

write dang it

Tony was used to sleepless nights. There was something about the darkness of the night that lured out the demons that could only be found in one’s brain. So what if he died at 50? He already has done so much for the world already, right?

No, you haven’t crooned the small voice in the back of his mind. Sure you built a couple of suits, but how do you explain the crying from upstairs. Tony groaned and set down the cup of coffee he had been about to consume. 

He had failed. He had failed the world and you. It’s funny how you think at heart can’t be broken anymore then it already is. Peter’s face flashed before his eyes as the screams of your heartbreak rang in his ears. He had yet to face you, had yet to see the look of hopelessness that had consumed you whole. 

The walk up the stairs felt like climbing Everest. Tony could almost see the frozen bodies around him now. The faces forever locked in agony, or would they too have blown away in the wind? Nevermind, another morbid thought for another day. Focus on comforting your child. 

The door slowly swung open to reveal a ghost of a person. On days like these Peter would normally swing through the window and scoop you up into his arms and kiss all the tears away. Now, Tony wasn’t the comforting type so the best he could do was sit down on the bed next to you and gently murmur, “Shhh, It’s okay now, I’m here.”