#x || queue

accidental affection || → @tellxmexprettyxlies

Steve wasn’t even sure how long he’d been asleep.

They’d been watching a movie, Steve tucked into the corner of the couch whilst Tony had s p r a w l e d out, offering the occasional comment, the glare from the TV the only light source in the room. It hadn’t taken long for his eyes to grow heavy, fluttering closed despite his best efforts, the familiar cocoon of sleep embracing him as he sank back into the cushions.

Everything felt delightfully fuzzy as he dozed, the sound of Tony’s voice filling his dreams as he slipped in-and-out of consciousness. It was in one of these in between moments he became aware of a warmth against his side, a head pillowing itself on his shoulder, tufts of hair tickling his cheek. It made something stir in his chest, a burning ache that had him pulling the other man closer even in his half-awake state, limbs tangling together. He could smell coffee and engine oil, comforting and familiar as he slipped down further onto the couch, nuzzling against the other man.

THE WARM FUZZIES [ACCEPTING]  ||  → @namedforthefirst 

Jim was d r u n k. 

 It was the only explanation as to why he was standing on a stage, microphone grasped in one hand, palm sweating slightly. He could hear people catcalling as he stared out at the bar, spotting the group of Starfleet uniforms huddled around a table in the back. His eyes narrowed at them, Bones smirking and Chekov flashing him a thumbs up which, knowing Chekov, was probably nothing but genuine. 

And it wasn’t that he was a bad singer, or that he was averse to making himself the centre of attention. But karaoke definitely wasn’t his thing and he silently cursed the last round of whiskey as he heard the first few notes of music start. Clearing his throat, he started to croon into the microphone, relaxing slightly as he eased into the melody. 

 Daring a glance up at the crowd, his eyes landed on the other group of Starfleet officers making good on their shore leave, most of them less well-known to him. He did recognise a few of them though, and his eyes landed on a familiar face, Halliwell his brain supplied, and he grinned at her as he hit the chorus, singing at her, daring a somewhat sloppy wink.

It had been so long Jim didn’t recognise him at first, doing an almost comedy-like double take when he spotted him across the room. 

 They’d been docked at a Starbase for a while now, refuelling and making necessary repairs and catching up on some much needed downtime. They’d been stuck on the Enterprise for so long that they’d all started to go a little stir-crazy and Jim had been thankful for the chance to get some time off, and more importantly thankful to be able to go to a bar. 

 The bar itself was relatively quiet, the chatter of people blurring into the background as Jim had nursed his drink, relishing the familiar burn of alcohol on his tongue. The raucous laughter from a group in the corner had caused him to look up, and that’s when he’d noticed him at the other end of the bar. It left him feeling breathless, fingers tightening around his glass as he pushed himself of his stool, acting on instinct. 

Jim let out a low groan of pain as he flopped down onto the cot, a grimace twisting his expression. It was nothing life threatening, just the unfortunate result of a misunderstanding with a few of the natives, but it still hurt like a bitch, hot pain flaring up his side every time he moved. The whole team had been surrounded but Jim was the only one who’d been hit, and not for the first time he found himself wondering why exploratory missions always seemed to end in disaster. 

 Wincing slightly, he pressed a hand against the wound, a thin layer of sweat covering his face, eyes fluttering closed as he fought off unconsciousness. It was only when he sensed someone stood by the bed that he forced his eyes back open, frowning as a semi-familiar face swam into view. 

It wasn’t like Matt had gone looking for her. 

 After everything that had happened, the last person he expected or necessarily wanted to bump into was Stark’s daughter. Ever since the Accords, Matt had been trying his best to keep his head down. But it seemed like that was getting harder every day, as if the news of the Avengers falling apart had caused every lowlife in the city to come crawling out of the woodwork, the streets of the Kitchen even darker and dirtier than usual. And staying off the radar was mission impossible when you’re fighting crime in a red devil suit, as Foggy had been quick to point out. 

 But here she was, in New York, and despite the latent anger Matt still felt at the whole situation, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. He hadn’t seen much of her in the past few months, was aware she’d tried to stay out of it as much as possible but ultimately everyone had been forced to pick a side in the end. And he couldn’t hold her responsible for her father’s decision; she wasn’t responsible for anything that had taken place. She was practically still a child and Matt found himself approaching her, quiet, expression hidden behind the material of his mask. 

                       x mutuals only x

Damian wasn’t the type of person who stared for too long, though he found himself staring at the girl in the chapel. He wasn’t there for her. He was waiting for Colin to be done with his chores. Chores. Good thing he didn’t have any. The teen wasn’t praying, nor was she at the alter. Just walking around and looking at the murals on the wall.

Damian took the liberty to join her at a certain painting.