Today (7th of march) the netherlands has a national collection day for the people in Ukraine. Radio, television and local actions come together to collect money.
The past week giro555 already collected 21milion euros and hopefully there will be a whole lot more today.
Please donate if you can or share actions if you can't.
If you donate or support a cause today send me your story, tag me in your actions or send me a screenshot. For the first 20 people who do I will write you a personal story. It can be a one shot, ship, whatever you like!
I know it's not much, but maybe it gives people that final push to donate.
Author’s Note: This was a Christmas gift I wrote for @kilismaiden, who has graciously allowed me to publish it here for everyone to enjoy. Thank you darling, I’m so glad you enjoyed it ^^
—
A sliver of light cut the floor next to the couch. You looked down and pulled your earbuds out.
“How was work?” you called, resting your chopsticks in your hand, flipping to a new screen on your PADD.
“Disastrous. Something leaked in the botany lab,” Leonard grumbled. You heard a light noise as Leonard’s overshirt hit the floor, followed by two heavier thuds as his boots joined the pile. “Three of our lieutenants are going to be in sickbay for a week.”
“They should have been paying more attention,” you mumbled. “What leaked?”
“What are you eating?” he interrupted. You glanced up sideways, catching his wide-open angry eyes with yours. He looked even taller dressed all in black.
“Nothing,” you lied, your container of reconstituted ramen steaming in the bowl of your crossed legs.
“Do you have any idea how much sodium is in that?” he pointed accusatorily at your dinner.
“You’ve explained this to me before,” you mumbled, readjusting your chopsticks in your fingers.
“Then why are you still eating it?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands out to his sides. “You’re going to kill yourself eating that stuff.”
“Well, I’d get it fresh, but the replicator really can’t do it justice.”
“That’s because the replicator has been programmed to keep your salt levels under control,” Leonard eyed you as your hand started moving.
You captured a few noodles between your chopsticks and raised them from the bowl.
“Y/N,” Leonard warned. He put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes, tipping his head slightly to the side.
You lifted the noodles still higher until they were suspended in midair almost above your head. The irateness in his eyes threatened to bubble over as you opened your mouth.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled.
The end of the longest noodle brushed your lip; your aim was perfect. You dropped the noodles directly into your mouth, a grin pulling at the corners of your lips.
Leonard hissed something that sounded like a thinly veiled “fuck you” before stomping off and locking himself in the bathroom.
Giggling, you placed your chopsticks down with your PADD on the coffee table and picked up the soup bowl with both hands, tipping it slightly at your lips and drinking the remainder of the broth. It was gloriously salty.
Leo explained the astronomical flaw in this meal to you a hundred times or more, and you understood why he didn’t like it. You didn’t indulge in pre-packaged ramen often, but Leo got irrationally upset every single time you did.
Licking the residual flavour from your lips, you placed the empty plastic bowl on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. A few minutes later the bathroom door opened and Leo stomped out.
You turned around in your seat and watched him huff and puff around your quarters, folding his clothes, standing his boots up, finding something to put on over his underwear.
“Leo?” you mumbled after a few minutes.
He grunted in response.
“It’s all gone,” you said, resting your chin on the back of the couch.
“Good for you, you’ll be drinking for days to compensate,” he grumbled.
“Come sit with me,” you whined.
“No,” he pulled his sweatpants on over his boxers before retrieving his PADD from the end of the bed and waking it up, sitting on the mattress.
“Are you that mad about the damn noodles?” you asked, standing up and padding across the deck plating to sit beside him. You left several inches between the two of you, just in case he was actually that mad.
He sighed heavily and rested the back of the PADD on his thighs. He looked at you sideways and pursed his lips.
“I’m not mad about the noodles,” he sighed finally. “I’ve just had a really long day.”
He reached over and took one of your hands in his.
“Was it just the botany leak?” you asked, running the pad of your thumb across his knuckles.
“That was just since lunch. Woke up with a migraine,” he said, moving the PADD onto the bed and inching closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leaning his forehead on yours.
“Can I bring you anything?” you asked quietly.
“No, but you can go brush that goddamn soup out of your teeth, it even smells salty,” he growled.
“It was very much so,” you grinned.
“Goddamnit,” he groaned, kissing your temple. When you whined a little, he added, “I’m not kissing you with that shit on your lips, you’re going to kill me.”
You snorted.
“Your loss,” you stood up and padded back to the couch, picking up your PADD and curling up to finish your reading.
After a moment Leo sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his PADD in his other hand.
“What happened to me killing you?” you asked.
“Just because you’re a walking salt mine doesn’t mean I don’t want to sit with you,” Leo looked at you sideways. “You gotta stop eating that stuff.”
“You say it like I eat it every day,” you said, letting your head rest on his chest.
“Even one of those things is too much for one lifetime, as far as I’m concerned,” he grumbled, kissing your hair again.
“I know, I know,” you smiled, flipping pages on your PADD. “You should really try one sometime.”
Prompt: “For a request could you possibly write an imagine where the reader has to look after an upset/stressed bones? To calm him down and get him to relax?” - Anon
Word Count: 1,017
Author’s Note: I like the idea that Bones doesn’t get outrageously verbose when he’s angry; that’s more the norm for him. I think he’s one of the quiet burners. I hope you like this little one!
—
After the door to your quarters swished open and shut, there was dead silence. Your finger stilled against your PADD screen as you listened. Leonard padded heavily through the room and shut the bathroom door behind him.
Sighing, you laid your PADD on the dining table and stood up, beelining for the replicator.
“Coffee, black, one sugar,” you said, placing a mug under the machine. Hot black water filled the mug as you listened for noise in the bathroom. The tap turned on and off several times, followed by a loud flap as he ripped the towel off the bar. The coffee finished pouring and you withdrew the mug from the machine.
You remembered the coaster this time, and you placed it and the drink on the coffee table before resuming your seat, flipping through your PADD.
The bathroom door opened and two heavy boots flopped on the floor, knocking against the bed as they settled. The closet door slid open and a soft lump of clothing fell into the hamper before the door shut again.
Leonard stepped to the inward-facing couch and sat down, exhaling slowly. There was a moment of silence and you realized that you had been staring at the same graphic this whole time.
“Thank you,” Leonard grumbled. The coffee mug slid off the coaster as he picked it up and quietly took a long drink.
“Can I bring you anything else?” you asked in a soft voice. You half-laid the PADD down as you waited for a response.
“No.”
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and returned to your PADD, flipping to a new article. You tilted the screen until his reflection became clear on the screen. His hair was mussed from the brief dousing it got in the bathroom and he was in a non-regulation undershirt; the one he kept exclusively for his quarters. Leonard shifted his weight on the couch and exhaled loudly. You looked down at the new words you pulled up on the screen and thought better of it. Closing the article you opted to activate a game of solitaire to keep you occupied while you listened to your partner come down.
You made it halfway through you second deal before Leonard spoke up.
“Come sit with me.”
Shutting the PADD off, you stood, took two long paces, and climbed over the back of the couch, settling into the crook of Leonard’s arm. He tucked the slope of his nose against the curve of your forehead and breathed along with you for a few moments until you decided it was safe to talk.
“What happened?”
Leonard sighed and pulled his head back, tilting it against the back of the couch, gratuitously displaying his Adam’s apple.
“Spock chose not to tell me before today that he’s…” Leonard growled. “I can’t tell you everything. Suffice it to say, he withheld something really important and we had to use more resources than we should have had to to fix him. And then he tried to rationalize his actions and…” a low grumble built deep in his throat.
You hitched a leg under you to push yourself up and you leaned in and kissed his cheekbone.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured in his ear as you sat back, reaching out to trace your fingers along the fabric of his white, cotton undershirt.
“It’s not your fault,” Leonard tipped his head to look at you. “But I appreciate it. God knows he didn’t apologize for being an idiot.”
“You know he’s just trying not to be a bother,” you said, laying your palm flat against his chest before leaning forward and taking his far hand in both of yours, pulling it across his stomach.
Leonard didn’t move as you circled your fingers around the fleshiest part of his forearm, just below the elbow, and began to slide your hand down his limb, keeping your fingers round and rigid. You watched his face as he watched your hands. The corners of his eyes relaxed and the lines in his forehead became shallower as you reached his palm and placed your other hand by his elbow, running a tight hand down the other side of his arm. You alternated hands, massaging one side of his arm and then the other until finally Leonard’s shoulders started to relax and his eyelids got heavy.
“Drink your coffee,” you instructed as you let his arm go and reached over your head to grab the other one from around your shoulders. He let you manipulate him as he leaned forward and picked up his coffee again, taking a long drink and settling back into the couch.
“I don’t mean to be hard on him, he’s just so thick sometimes,” Leonard grumbled. “We had a lot of work to get through today to catch up and he just wrecked our pace completely. And then Uhura showed up…”
“Oh God.”
“She ripped a strip off me for not noticing that something was wrong. How the hell was I supposed to know? That bastard is only one harder to get at with a tricorder on this ship than Jim.”
“I can talk to her in the morning if you need,” you suggested.
“No, she came back and rescinded some of what she said later, it’s just…”
“It’s stressful,” you suggested as you ran your hands along Leonard’s arm, letting the soft flesh glide through your palms. Beneath his flesh you could feel the tension starting to melt away.
Leonard upended the coffee mug and gulped the last of the drink before he put the cup down and pulled you onto his lap, turning you 180 and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“You’re stressed, same as all of us,” you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, resting your hand on top of his head. “Don’t worry about it; I’ve got you figured out.”
Leonard laughed lightly into your skin before kissing your neck.
“Thank you, darlin’,” he said, burrowing deeper into you.
Slipping your fingers into the forest of his hair, you kissed his forehead.
Prompt: “Getting Bones to laugh and smile more often.” -Anon
Words: 1202
Author’s Note: This one was actually really hard to write, because I’ve never delved into a softer side of Bones before, or at least a softer one where he smiles.
There ended up being some Chaucer used in this (am I a giant nerd yet?) so I thought I’d give a modern English translation, as I wanted the character to have a knowledge of it in advance.
“But for to telle yow al hir beautee,/It lyth nat in my tonge, n’yn my konnyng;/I dar nat undertake so heigh a thyng.”
“But for to tell you all her beauty,/It lies not in my tongue, nor in my cunning;/I dare not undertake so high a thing.”
Please enjoy!
---
“Take these with food, the swelling will go down in a few hours. Then take the rest of the week off, you’ll be drowsy for a few days,” you handed the bruised Lieutenant sitting on your exam table a vial with two round, yellow pills inside.
“Thank you, ma’am,” the lieutenant took the vial and slipped it in his pocket before hopping off the exam table and rushing for the door.
You picked up your PADD off the table and grumbled, “Thank you, Doctor,” under your breath.
The lieutenant stopped short and turned back to you.
“I’m sorry, ma’am?”
“Nothing, nothing, you can go, Lieutenant.”
As the door swished closed behind him you muttered, “Idiot.”
Bones snorted behind the divider that stood between your stations.
-
“- she had the biggest head I’ve ever seen,” Kirk exclaimed quietly, gesturing with his hands around his own head, stretching as far out as he could.
Bones rolled his eyes in his seat next to you.
“Don’t miss a beat do you, Jim?” he grumbled.
You grinned and took a swig from your water bottle.
“Anyway, so then she stands up and -”
Nudging Bones under the table with your elbow you offered him your water bottle.
He looked sideways at you with a raised eyebrow. You pushed the water bottle closer to his arm.
He took it and drank. His eyes got wide. The corner of his mouth turned up.
You smirked and took the bottle back. Kirk’s stories always sounded better with vodka.
-
Flat on your back under the computer console at your station, you nudged cords aside as you tried to figure out which one wasn’t in the right place. The left half of your touch screen turned off moments ago.
“You lost under there?” Bones’s voice wafted down from somewhere above the table.
“Naw, I got it,” you gave one cord an over-enthusiastic tug and it broke, sending your arm flying back into a hose. The plastic cracked releasing a spray of hydraulic fluid all over your face.
A hand closed around your ankle and dragged you across the floor out from under the table.
You pressed your lips and mouth shut and turned your head to the side to keep the fluid from flowing into your nose. Bones grabbed you by both shoulders and hauled you to a standing position. You tilted your head down so the fluid would drip off your face.
He walked you over to an emergency eyewash station and proceeded to soak your face. He took a few moments before shutting the water off and drying your face with a towel.
“Don’t open your eyes yet,” he ordered. You heard him activating his tricorder and begin scanning your face for residue.
“You’re fine,” he said eventually. You opened your eyes and looked at the hydraulic fluid on the steel floor.
“That wasn’t the right cord,” you said.
Bones stared at you for a second before grinning and shaking his head.
-
“I don’t know how you can read that stuff,” Bones said, stirring his soup.
“It’s funny!”
“It’s illegible.”
“Well, yeah, I mean, if you haven’t specifically gone about reading anything like it before, it isn’t the easiest thing to just pick up and go through, but you can get glossaries and reading guides for it,” you took a bite of your pasta.
“If it takes that much work to read for fun, I’m out.”
“I could read it to you, if you want.”
He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow.
“And why would you do that?”
“Because there’s one involving some literal ass-kissing that I think you’d get a real kick out of.”
His other eyebrow went up to meet the other one.
“Literal ass-kissing?” he smiled at the concept.
“Yeah! There’s this big, elaborate scheme and it winds up with one guy -”
“I get the picture,” he put his spoon down and shook his head, still grinning. “You can read me that one. Plain English, mind,” he wagged a finger at you.
“What you don’t want to become conversant in Middle English?”
“I’ll survive, thanks,” he looked down at his bowl, up at you, and back to his soup.
-
You walked into the Med Bay fifteen minutes before your shift began. Bones was typing something into a computer console, but he looked up as you passed by. He snorted.
“What?”
“Your shirt’s on backwards.”
You looked down at your chest and, sure enough, the silver Starfleet insignia was not there.
“Shit,” you hissed.
Bones grinned as he kept typing.
-
You cradled a steaming cup of tea in Rec Area C4 by the window. Wrapping your sweater more tightly around yourself, you took as sip of your tea as you stared out the window into the vastness of glittering space.
Something moved out the corner of your eye and you looked up.
“Mind if I join you?” Bones looked from your face to the seat next to you. He was still wearing his uniform. There were sweat rings under his arms and around his neck.
“Of course,” you shuffled over to give him more room.
He sat down and leaned back, letting his head fall back to lean on the top of the couch. His eyes were closed.
“What happened?”
“Steam burns in engineering. Six idiots opened the wrong valve,” he let his head tip sideways so he was facing you. He opened his eyes to look at you. His eyelids were heavy.
“Why don’t you go rest?”
“Didn’t want to sit around alone,” he looked at your hands clasped around your teacup.
You reached out, offering him one of your warmed hands.
He accepted it and sighed heavily.
“That’s nice,” a soft smile spread across his face.
“Want the other one, too?”
He nodded.
You put your teacup down on the floor and shifted in closer to him and took his other hand, wrapping his fingers in your palms.
A soft groan rumbled somewhere in his throat, and his drooping eyelids slid shut.
“You were just cold weren’t you?” you said.
“Naw, I jus’... you’re not hyperactive, like Jim, and I like that.”
You snorted.
“That’s an awfully high compliment, coming from you, Doctor.”
“Leonard. Please, I just want to not be a doctor for five minutes.”
“Is everyone in engineering okay?”
“They’ll live.”
“Well thank God for that.”
“God had nothing to do with it, if he had it his way, they’d all be victims of natural selection.”
“Well look at you, bending God’s will.”
He grinned, laughing lightly.
“Yeah, a real goddamn Saint.”
He opened his eyes, letting his gaze slip and slide around your face.
“But for to telle yow al hir beautee,/It lyth nat in my tonge, n'yn my konnyng;/I dar nat undertake so heigh a thyng,” you whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just go to sleep.”
He shut his eyes, his hands became heavy in yours.
“We should read more of that stuff. I liked the ass-kissing.”
“You would.”
He laughed before relaxing into the couch cushions. Eventually his breathing slowed and you let his hands fall into his lap.
You retrieved your teacup from the floor and resumed looking out the window, thinking of what story to read him next.
