shibeme

shibeme:

boop boop boop I’m so tired and school sucks but ay it’s the weekend which means crappy fanfiction about this thing that still doesn’t have a name so someone please help me.

Other dumb parts are here, here, here, here, and here.

Hiccup let out a long breath as he stepped out of his science class. Astrid was waiting for him, books piled high in her arms. “So how did it go?” She tilted her head and Hiccup could see how people would find her attractive.

“Ah, he gave me one extra day to try and rebuild my bridge. I’m going to start on it tonight.” He kicked the tiled floor with his scuffed shoes. “Jack said he would help, but I don’t think he understands what I even need to do.” They walked down the hall together and he rolled his shoulders. “I hope yours is at least good enough to get an A. You deserve it.”

“Aw thank you,” she said. As they walked she slung an arm around his neck, managing to carry her books in the other. Hiccup learned she used to be on her junior high’s soft ball team. She was hoping to get a spot on the boy’s baseball team once the season started up. Hiccup was sure they wouldn’t refuse her, especially with her strength. Truthfully he thought the team needed the extra help from what he heard. “Oh hey,” Astrid’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, “isn’t that Jack over there?”

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Wha - n-no, you can’t just - there needs to be more!

Parenthood {Hijack PNAU}

     A wail pierced the air, startling both males from their sleep. Feeling his pale-haired partner shift beside him, Hiccup rested a hand on a heavily tattooed arm. Jack moved his gaze, still slightly blurry with sleep, to his beloved, managing to see a tired smile through the darkness of the bedroom.

     “I got it, Jack,” Hiccup murmured as the crying continued, high-pitched and distressed. He pressed a single kiss to the older boy’s temple and rolled over so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling around the nightstand for his glasses. Finally, he found them and slid them onto his face, now using his improved vision to find his prosthetic leaning against the end of the bed. He grabbed it and strapped it on, then pushed himself into a standing position. He stretched with a small yawn, then walked over to the crib that stood in the corner of the bedroom, a delicate mobile hanging over it. Though his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, he was able to make out the small form of his child, tiny fists clenched and arms flailing.

     He reached down and gently lifted the baby, blanket and all, into his arms, bouncing him lightly and cooing softly. The child smelled fine, so he could assume that he didn’t need a diaper change, and he had been fed well before they had all settled for bed. “What’s wrong, Stoick?” He whispered as his eyes adjusted more and details began to become evident. His son’s face was scrunched up and pink, tears pouring down his fast and a small tuft of copper hair atop his head. Hiccup sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to Stoick’s forehead and continuing to bounce him, whispering and clucking softly. Finally, the child began to calm, tears reduced to sniffles and wails silenced by the thumb he had deposited into his mouth, slightly watery blue eyes peering up at him.

     Jack, not able to fall asleep again without Hiccup by his side, rolled over and looked over at the two of them. He took in the form of his newlywed husband, outfitted in one of Jack’s large t-shirts (the logo of some band or other imprinted on the front) and his boxers, auburn hair a mess and his prosthetic glinting in the moonlight that peeked through the crack in the curtains. As Jack watched him soothe their youngest back into a sleepy state, he couldn’t help but marvel at just how lucky he was. With the thought, Jack pushed himself to his feet and walked over, wrapping his arms around his partner’s thin waist and stooping to rest his chin on a shoulder that was the opposite of broad, looking down at their once-again-snoozing son.

     “Just look at him,” Jack muttered affectionately, beginning to nuzzle at Hiccup’s lightly freckled neck, “Was he worth the nine months of pain, mood swings and cravings?” Hiccup gave a soft chuckle at the question, tilting his head back a bit with a sweet smile as Stoick gave a little snore, just like the man he was named after used to, but far quieter. Hiccup’s father’s snores had been absolutely thunderous, while his son’s were soft, barely even audible.

     “Oh, he was well worth it,” Hiccup responded quietly, his emerald gaze flickering to meet the icy eyes that Jack had passed onto his son, “But let’s wait a bit before we plunge into that again, alright?” Jack gave a sheepish chuckle at the tease, pulling Hiccup back just a bit, loving the warmth that radiated off the scrawny boy.

     “So, we’re going to get into that again?” Jack asked, enjoying how Hiccup’s face flushed, quickly looking back to the little boy in his arms. He loved it when Hiccup blushed, the rosy color spreading from his cheeks down to his neck, and appearing at the very tips of his ears. He absolutely adored how it made his freckles stand out all the more. It broke his heart to know that Hiccup despised himself for all the things Jack adored. The insecurity that lived inside the boy made no sense at all to Jack.

     “I-I was just…I mean, if you don’t want -” Hiccup stammered, trying to find the words to explain what was on his mind. The warm chuckle against his neck helped him to relax a little bit, his ivory-skinned companion pulling back a bit to meet his eyes, a loving smile on his face.

      “I’d love to have more, Hic,” Jack murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to Hiccup’s lips, left to reassure, “As long as you’re up for it. After all, you’re the one that’s going to be carrying them. As long as you’re ready to go through the morning sickness and fits over the fact that none of your shirts will fit you anymore again, I’m perfectly content with the idea.” Hiccup relaxed with a sigh of content, leaning back against Jack gently.

     “…Good. I love you, Jack.”

     “I love you too.”

winchesterbros-inc
casey459:


tonystaarks:


efflorescentia:


canhasactuallife:


rcmclachlan:


“Check this out.” Sam turns the laptop toward Cas, who blinks at it curiously. “The ESO’s got some incredible photos. They just uploaded a series of open clusters, and some of them are mind-blowing.”
Dean snorts from the bed, the remote control pointed at the TV like a weapon. Fifty channels, plus free HBO, and nothing’s on? How is that even possible? “You wanna show him mind-blowing? Look in my bookmarks under ‘pole dancing championship’.”
There is a moment of silence, tense enough that even Dean manages to tear his eyes away from what must be Telemundo. They’re speaking Spanish and just broke out into a dance routine. This is why the American media sucks.
“Cas? Dude, you okay?”
“This image,” Cas says quietly, eyes clouded with weariness and a thousand sleepless nights. Adapting to the routines of humanity hasn’t been kind to him. “It’s —”
“It’s…” Sam cranes his neck and squints at the monitor. “The Pleiades. Probably the most recognizable cluster there is.”
“Why do you even know that? No, seriously, how does that shit affect our lives at all?”
“Shut the hell up, Dean.”
“Sandalphon.”
Cas stares at the screen, eyes soft, lashes dipping with what can only be pain. He reaches out to touch — something Sam’s yelled at him for doing countless times — and gently places his fingertips upon it, treating it like the most precious gift he’s ever received. And it might be. The Winchesters have never been much for gift-giving, which is a shitty life to introduce Cas into. Normal people get gifts all the time. The last thing Dean gave him was a stick of gum.
God dammit.
Dean rolls out of bed and pads over, resting an arm carelessly over the back of Cas’s shoulders. “Say again?”
“Sandalphon, my old general,” Cas says, tilting his head. “This is… She was a brilliant tactician. She led the first battalion against Lucifer during the First War.”Sam exhales softly. “What happened?”
“She… decided that Lucifer’s way was right. She Fell.”
An awkward silence stretches between them, an eternity before Sam clicks on the next picture. Cas expels a breath like it physically hurts him to hold it in.
“Chazaquiel.”
They go through maybe forty pictures of open clusters, which Dean still really doesn’t understand, Cas naming each of them as a brother or sister — “Penemue, Amaros, Arkas, Kochab…” — before they come to an image that is, admittedly, breathtaking. Dean lets out a low whistle and nudges Cas’s neck with his arm, fingers brushing the worn fabric of Dean’s old ACDC shirt, a bit too big over Cas’s thin shoulders.
“That one fucking rocks,” he says, and nudges Cas again. “Who’s that?” 
Cas sucks in a shuddering breath and leans to rest his head on Dean’s stomach, fingers reaching out once more for the monitor.
“Me.”


 LKDFJDSLKFJADS;LFKADSJF;LDSKFJ;DSLKFJ;LADSKFJ;ADSLKFJAS;DLKFNUASD;OAIFAJ;LKAJR;OIUD;OAFIDSU;OAIERJFLKDSJF;ODSIFJLDFKGHDF;OIUG;DFOIGSJF;GSKDFG;LSHG;TOIERUJ;LKJDFLGIUDROITNRLKGDF;OIDUJAFLKDSJFOIAUDFKLDSJSIODFU;ADSILFDSLFIUEOIJDLKJ


THIS IS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND ALL OF THE FEELINGS


#this might just be my favorite fanfic of Dean/Cas that does not consist any porn whatsoever


Excuse me while I remove my jaw from the floor


…Gah. I haven’t even gotten to the part of the show where Castiel is introduced, and stuff like this is already making me ship it.

casey459:

tonystaarks:

efflorescentia:

canhasactuallife:

rcmclachlan:

“Check this out.” Sam turns the laptop toward Cas, who blinks at it curiously. “The ESO’s got some incredible photos. They just uploaded a series of open clusters, and some of them are mind-blowing.”

Dean snorts from the bed, the remote control pointed at the TV like a weapon. Fifty channels, plus free HBO, and nothing’s on? How is that even possible? “You wanna show him mind-blowing? Look in my bookmarks under ‘pole dancing championship’.”

There is a moment of silence, tense enough that even Dean manages to tear his eyes away from what must be Telemundo. They’re speaking Spanish and just broke out into a dance routine. This is why the American media sucks.

“Cas? Dude, you okay?”

“This image,” Cas says quietly, eyes clouded with weariness and a thousand sleepless nights. Adapting to the routines of humanity hasn’t been kind to him. “It’s —”

“It’s…” Sam cranes his neck and squints at the monitor. “The Pleiades. Probably the most recognizable cluster there is.”

“Why do you even know that? No, seriously, how does that shit affect our lives at all?”

“Shut the hell up, Dean.”

“Sandalphon.”

Cas stares at the screen, eyes soft, lashes dipping with what can only be pain. He reaches out to touch — something Sam’s yelled at him for doing countless times — and gently places his fingertips upon it, treating it like the most precious gift he’s ever received. And it might be. The Winchesters have never been much for gift-giving, which is a shitty life to introduce Cas into. Normal people get gifts all the time. The last thing Dean gave him was a stick of gum.

God dammit.

Dean rolls out of bed and pads over, resting an arm carelessly over the back of Cas’s shoulders. “Say again?”

“Sandalphon, my old general,” Cas says, tilting his head. “This is… She was a brilliant tactician. She led the first battalion against Lucifer during the First War.”

Sam exhales softly. “What happened?”

“She… decided that Lucifer’s way was right. She Fell.”

An awkward silence stretches between them, an eternity before Sam clicks on the next picture. Cas expels a breath like it physically hurts him to hold it in.

“Chazaquiel.”

They go through maybe forty pictures of open clusters, which Dean still really doesn’t understand, Cas naming each of them as a brother or sister — “Penemue, Amaros, Arkas, Kochab…” — before they come to an image that is, admittedly, breathtaking. Dean lets out a low whistle and nudges Cas’s neck with his arm, fingers brushing the worn fabric of Dean’s old ACDC shirt, a bit too big over Cas’s thin shoulders.

“That one fucking rocks,” he says, and nudges Cas again. “Who’s that?” 

Cas sucks in a shuddering breath and leans to rest his head on Dean’s stomach, fingers reaching out once more for the monitor.

“Me.”

 LKDFJDSLKFJADS;LFKADSJF;LDSKFJ;DSLKFJ;LADSKFJ;ADSLKFJAS;DLKFNUASD;OAIFAJ;LKAJR;OIUD;OAFIDSU;OAIERJFLKDSJF;ODSIFJLDFKGHDF;OIUG;DFOIGSJF;GSKDFG;LSHG;TOIERUJ;LKJDFLGIUDROITNRLKGDF;OIDUJAFLKDSJFOIAUDFKLDSJSIODFU;ADSILFDSLFIUEOIJDLKJ

THIS IS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND ALL OF THE FEELINGS

#this might just be my favorite fanfic of Dean/Cas that does not consist any porn whatsoever

Excuse me while I remove my jaw from the floor

…Gah. I haven’t even gotten to the part of the show where Castiel is introduced, and stuff like this is already making me ship it.

disnerys

blondnepeta:

when u have a character that u tag as “my son/daughter/child/etc” and see someone else who also tags that character as progeny and youre like yes. we are proud parents. how did you sleep last night dear. would you like a cup of coffee. did you hear what our child did this time. they get this from your side of the family.