#okaywolf

[chuchukelsey]

I AM AT WORK (PS DONT PUT PANTS ON)

i have pants on they just have superhero faces on them

[chuchukelsey]

I just looked through the lairdcest tag because i still have it tracked and i'm about to cry

remember when guys

remember when

[chuchukelsey]

I AM SCREAMING YOU TWO ARE SO CUTE AHH AHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

a job well done

cute factor 2 the mAX

[rosewindow]

Have You Seen the Stars Tonite

For Gillian. Until it becomes feasible for me to write you MolMorMor while physically out of the atmosphere, please accept this as a poor substitute.

Recommended listening: Blows Against the Empire by Jefferson Starship

Recommended watching: 2001: A Space Odyssey

Word Count: 1,286

(now on AO3 as well)

Molly had never had much free time aboard the Bartholomew. Not to complain or anything. She’d loved it. Of course she’d loved it; practicing medicine on a deep space cruiser had always been her dream. But, well, there it was. She didn’t get much free time on the Napoleon either. They ran a skeleton crew - computers did most of the work, and wasn’t that amazing - so everyone had several jobs to do. She frequently had to clean things up, or, well, not make food - it was all in prepackaged blocks - but distribute it. And she’d had to improve her skills at trauma medicine smartish, and learn how to tell if various substances were counterfeit or not (and in turn learn how to counterfeit other substances). So, life wasn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination, but she was in space. And really, what more had she wanted out of life? So Molly spent most of her free time up on A-Deck, watching the stars drift by.

The only problem with this plan was that it made it easier for the other crew members to find her.

“He’s at it again.”

Molly sighed, but didn’t move. “He’ll pull himself out of it eventually.”

“We have a meet-up in a few hours.”

Molly sighed again. That was a problem.

Normally, they floated through space without encountering anyone else for days if not longer. But these meet-ups were how they financed the operation, and Molly liked being airborne, fed, and not dying in the blackness of space, so yes, it was important to get their captain back in the land of the living (or at least human). Not important enough that she couldn’t take her sweet time, though.

She stuck a hand up in the air, and waggled it around. Seb sighed, but walked over to pull her to her feet. She skipped a step, and leaned against him to stay upright. “Gravity must be a bit off,” she said with a wink.

He smirked back. “Is now the time, Miss Hooper?”

“Doctor Hooper,” she replied, patting his cheek. “Right. Let’s see the patient, shall we?”

The Napoleon was small. Smaller than the Bartholomew certainly, though most ships in the sky were; that thing was a behemoth. It didn’t take them long to make their way to the computer room. Seb swung the door aside, and gestured in frustration. Molly peered in carefully; this was the eeriest room on the ship, and she never really liked having to do this.

The gravity had been turned off. Molly’s ponytail started floating by her face as she leaned her torso into the room. Except for small walkways, all six surfaces in the room were covered in softly glowing or blinking or undulating lights, and screens of every size, with a multitude of wires and cables linking everything. It was the farthest thing from standard issue computer processing that Molly had ever seen. Computers could be used to control simple things like oxygen levels, and gravity, and thrust, but the intricacies of safe and effective space travel were beyond even the most complicated of systems. Except for these.

Jim hovered in the middle of the space he had built, a web of wires and tools drifting around him like satellites around a sun. Molly pushed off, and carefully pulled herself along until she was in his orbit too. His eyes were closed and he was muttering to himself, fingers moving as if he was typing. No wait, he was actually typing she realized as she noticed that the uplink in the back of his neck was hooked up.

She hung there, kicking her legs idly to keep mostly upright and away from the walls. She could tell this was going to be a tricky one, so she would taking her time. Seb watched impatiently from the doorway, but she waved him away. He stomped off to doing something no doubt important and violent. Fine. Somebody should be on watch anyway.

First things first. Molly waved the tools and most of the wires away, putting things where they went if she knew, and batting them towards the hall and the gravity if she didn’t. Second step: make sure nothing could get broken, including Jim and herself, if he reacted badly to step four. Next: wait. This was the worst step. Because the uplink was in his head, she was never entirely sure when it was safe to pull him out. She waited until his fingers stopped moving and his muttering had trailed off, and, finally, yanked the cord.

Jim jerked in surprise, and reached out for something Molly couldn’t see. “Oh,” he whispered.

He shivered, and turned neatly to face her. She was always amazed at how easily he moved in zero gravity. “Where’s Seb? I was just telling him-”

“It was the uplink. You were talking to the computer.”

“I wonder why the computer decided to look like Seb today,” he mused. “Normally, she looks like you.”

Molly blushed. “You’ve uh, you’ve got a meet-up coming. You’d better get ready.”

He floated past her, brushing a finger against her cheek as he did, and touched down with a grace that she envied. “What would I do without you, Molly dearest?” he asked, before vanishing towards the personal quarters.

Not entirely sure what to do next, Molly straightened up a bit more and wandered back up to A-Deck. Jim and Seb would want it for the meet-up - it was the most impressive space on the ship and it always did to make a good impression - but it was free for now, and Molly still had a bit of free time.

She knew that what they did was illegal, she wasn’t an idiot, but she did try not to think about it too hard. She’d never seen any violence, but the wounds she treated on Seb and the various other men and women that came through her infirmary weren’t the kinds caused by normal space travel. There was also the fact that her payment didn’t come on any sort of regular schedule. It always came, but usually in fits and bursts linked to the trips they’d taken recently. For someone who’d gone through the ranks on a government vessel, Molly was surprisingly okay with this knowledge. It was probably a sort of “honor among thieves” thing, but Molly honestly felt more comfortable here than she ever had on the Bartholomew. Seb and Jim weren’t nice - far from it - but they respected her, and that was, well, nice.

She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. She hadn’t been there from the start; hadn’t been there when they hijacked the ship (though Jim recounted the story so often and with such enthusiasm that she often felt as if she had been). She’d joined up with the crew of the bonnie Napoleon later on, when Jim had crossed one of the scientist on board and had to use Molly as part of an improvised escape plan. She hadn’t looked back though, which she found worrying and strange only in retrospect.

The door to the deck slid open behind her.

“Thinking again, Molly dearest? I won’t stand for it. I’m supposed to be the intelligent one around here.”

“Just contemplating my place in the universe,” she responded.

“Your place is right here,” Jim said, offering her a hand up.

She took his hand, but didn’t stand yet. She stretched her other hand out wordlessly, and Seb took it. The stars spun outside the window in a constantly shifting dance. Molly smiled, and pulled herself to standing.

“Right, gentlemen. What’s on the table for today?”

[chuchukelsey]

tinkersandtoymakers said: *silently watches*

if you can get to the beaverton krispy kreme wherever the fuck it is on saturday

you can donut party with us philip

join the donut party

[christeladina]

You know when an absurd idea occurs and...

Your brain begins running with it, but far faster than your memory/ability to type or record it can keep up? This is happening to me. It has been happening since about 4 AM this morning (so I missed a lot of good stuff simply because I couldn't get out of bed). It has chosen to be happening while I am having a pain episode [and what I hope is not the instigation of an illness].

It is because of the pictures neondarling and okaywolf posted lately. It sent me off on a wild tear of puns and witty banter between 3 possibly principal characters that I have yet to actually create. I wish I could just press record in my mind and come back to these scenes later when the words aren't spinning blurrily on the page.

[destinationwhy]

Tagged by captianchaotic

1. Favourite thing about yourself c:

I am not a peasant. 

2. Favourite scent :3

Probably rain. Its so rare out here. God damn drought.

3.  Have you ever bought anything from Victoria’s Secret?

No.

4. Have you seen Les Mis yet? Review? If not, just post a picture of yourself ;D

No. Also, I'll think about it. 

5. Top 3 OTP’s.

Okay so I ship real live people so one of my OTP's is my friend Maddie and her almost boyfriend Braden. 

I also ship Augustus and Hazel so hard it hurts.

And Johnlock a little bit

7. Favourite Rom-Com?

Do I look like I like Romantic Comedies. Please.

8. Day or night?

Night.

9. Define perfection.

I could write a god damn essay about this, okay?

10. Do you want to cosplay? If so, who? 

Dude, if I cosplayed I swear I would be more interesting. I think I'd like to cosplay homestuck characters. I don't read homestuck and have virtually no clue what it's about, but have you seen the fucking cosplayers. They're like, gorgeous. 

11. What’s in the box?

My failed attempt at becoming an author. 

SAVANNAH'S QUESTIONS

1. Favorite taste?

These kick ass polish cookies that my grandmother used to make. Or anything my dad cooks really.

2. Favorite holiday?

Christmas, I guess.

3. Favorite quote?

I have a lot of favourite quotes. Currently it's, "I give him a look that I hope makes him understand that I'm not some rational, sane person. That I might actually enjoy making soup stock out of his cranium." -Augusten Burroughs

But I will forever adore, "What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person." -John Green

4. Favorite author?

John Green. But now I like Augusten Burroughs, too. 

5. Favorite fictional characters?

Are you ready for this conversation?

6. Favorite article of clothing?

I have this really nice sweater that I got for Christmas. It looks like it came out of John Watson's closet.

7. Favorite words?

Flagella. 

8. Favorite vacation spot?

Er...Seattle?

9. Favorite songs?

OK Go. (I know it said songs)

10. Favorite headcanon?

Erm. I don't really have one. 

11. Favorite sound?

Again, the answer is rain.

I'm too lazy to think of questions. 

Also to the people I tagged if you don't want to I won't be mad or anything.