#it's only like an inch difference between him and bones but jim hates it!!! and also pretends he doesn't hate it <3333

[muirmarie]

jim being canonically the shortest one of the triumvirate is genuinely so important to me lmao, like yesssssss, let that beefy babe be shorter than both his boyfriends!!!!

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #51: Locked In

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, torture, begging, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumpers, claustrophobia, trapped in small container, burns (lots!), death wish / suicidal ideation, starvation, weight loss due to starvation, brief mention of being mocked for weight loss, brief mention of vivisection/gore

i know i said #51 would be present arc big plot thing but i just got hit with inspo for this so that'll be #52. i just needed to grab kane and shake him around a little like my own personal stress ball.

-

Kane used to pace his cell sometimes, back in the early days. There wasn't much else to do. But he'd grown far too tired in the months or years since, crumbling to his knees from exhaustion after only a minute or two of circling now that he was caged in this starved, failing body.

So he just sat in the corner. His corner, the one in the back that was furthest from the stairs. He sat huddled in a little ball, like he had any ability to protect himself from whatever anyone wanted to do to him, and waited for the next one.

Kane sometimes fantasized that they would just stop coming down one day, leave him here alone. That he would be allowed to heal in peace, the only pain left the inescapable hunger, and he could live out the rest of his nights in peace. Even if he was trapped and starving and alone, it would be so much better than this.

But sure enough, he eventually heard hunters approaching, as they always did. He pressed himself back against the wall, following the useless instinct that told him to protect himself, to put as much distance as he could between him and danger, even if it was just a centimeter more.

THUNK.

Kane let out a gasp at the sound, heavy metal on concrete stairs. The most dreaded thing he could possibly hear, a telltale sign of the board. The board didn't always mean the sun, but it always meant something awful. If he was lucky, he'd just be cut open, silver dragging and burning through vulnerable innards that were never supposed to be seen at all.

If he was lucky, that was. And Kane was almost never lucky.

As the sound of the hunters dragging the thing down the stairs drew closer, Kane realized this wasn't the board. He'd lost almost everything in this place, but not his keen hearing. This was different. It sounded different. Heavier.

A new board, maybe? But the hunters already complained about the weight of the board, occasionally mocking him for how little he added to it as there grew to be less and less of him, skin sticking to bone. Why would they make it heavier?

"This thing's way too fucking heavy," one complained distantly.

Thunk.

"I can't believe you actually made this," another laughed.

Thunk.

"Well, we got that new batch of silver, gotta make some use of it. Not like we can't just melt it down again later to make something useful out of it. Might as well have a little fun first."

Thunk.

Three of them then, at least. Kane hated it when there were so many. They tended to egg each other on. If there was just one, a single hunter might concede to his begging and stop early, or go softer on him. But few of the hunters who hadn't left yet would dare to do so in front of their peers.

And whatever they had, it was silver, and it was for him. Kane whimpered, wrapping his arms around his head as wave after wave of terror rocked through him.

The sound of the stairs stopped, the delicious, horrifying smell of humans coming closer and closer. The thing, the silver thing meant for him, dragged leadenly across the floor.

Kane's heart practically stopped in his chest as the hunters finally came into view.

It was a box.

The box was small, much smaller than the board. While the board required him to stretch out and locked his wrists and ankles to the corners, exposing every inch of him, fitting inside this would require him to curl up as tightly as he could.

As small as it was, it was clearly very dense, requiring all three hunters to carry it downstairs. And though humans were physically weak as a rule, these men were clearly strong for their species. Kane was weaker than a human now. There was no way he would be getting out of this.

The box's silver gleamed menacingly, two small holes in the side of the lid and just below it giving Kane pause. Their purpose was clear: they were for a padlock to be threaded through, sealing the lid to the box with its contents trapped inside. And he was under no delusions as to what the contents would be.

Tears sprung to his eyes as he stared at the horrible thing, terror sending tremors through him. He wouldn't be able to beg himself out of this, not when they'd spent effort making this just for him. He was going in there.

One of the hunters laughed. "Look, it's shaking with excitement."

The one who'd claimed making the thing unlocked the door. "Look, leech, we got you a present. Say thank you." He waved for the others to drag it inside,

Kane just stared at him for a moment, until his fear-addled mind caught up with the order. "Thank you, sir," he choked out.

The two hunters holding the box snickered as they dropped it down in his cell, though its maker only grinned.

"Please." Kane's voice came out high-pitched and warbly as his tears started to fall, staring up at the hunter in front of him with big, watery eyes, "Please don't make me go in there, sir, please. I'll be good, I- I'm trying to be good, please!"

He felt like he was scrambling at a cliff wall, unable to get back up to where he could be okay, where he could be a person again. A person who could make choices, choose to be better than he was the day before. Kane wanted to be better. He was ready to be better. He had learned his lesson long ago.

But he wasn't allowed to change. He'd run out of chances, and now he was stuck down here, no matter how hard he tried.

The hunter crouched, eye-level with him, and grabbed him by the hair. Not pulling just yet, but his grip was firm. "Yeah, you'll be good, won't you, parasite? Tell you what. If you're real good and get in the box all on your own, we'll only keep you in there for a little bit. But if you make us shove you in there and give us a hard time about it, that'll be your new home."

The hunter turned Kane's head to face the box. "Every time we're done having our fun with you, you'll go back in the box. And when someone wants to play with you, you'll come out. And when they're done, you'll go right back in, and you'll stay nice and snug in there until someone else is ready to take their turn. Like a toy. Is that what you want?"

Kane was fully panicking by now, bright-red eyes boring into the hunter with unbridled horror.

The only respite he had left was the time he had to himself between the hunters' visits. To have his cell replaced with this- the torture would never stop. It would be all the time, twenty-four hours a day every day for his entire life, a burning that never left. He imagined being taken in from a day in the sun, and instead of being allowed to painfully recover on the floor, being stuffed into a silver box instead, grilling into already-fresh burns covering his whole body.

"NO!" he cried, clasping his hands together desperately as the other two hunters tried to hold in their tittering. "I'll do anything! Please, sir, anything, please don't! Please don't do that to me, please don't make it my n-new home, I'll be good, please!" He sobbed brokenly, unable to contain his despair.

The hunter let go of his hair and gestured to the box. "Then get in."

One of the others flipped the lid up. The inside was just as silver as the outside, not that he'd expected different.

Kane wanted to curl up in a ball and stay in his corner. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to hide. He wanted to grab a stake off the one hunter who was still wearing his gear and kill himself, though he'd never be fast enough to be successful.

But none of those things were possible. He had no choices.

"Yes, sir." Kane forced himself to his feet and walked over to it. Purposefully, without hesitation. He didn't want to be accused of stalling. The only virtue he had worth anything here was his obedience, and he would hold onto it for dear life.

The inside beckoned him, every surface ready to kiss his skin with fresh burns that would plague him for the next month, as his starved body struggled to heal.

He touched the inside of the lid with the tip of his finger, yanking it back with a whimper as it seared, just as he knew it would.

If Kane was going to do this horrible thing, fit his whole body inside, he would need a plan. It wasn't hard to think of, and not logistically difficult to execute: he needed to protect his face and the soles of his feet. The former to retain his senses, and the latter so he could walk when ordered about.

He couldn't wait any more without being considered disobedient. The three hunters watched him with amusement, but they would soon turn to prodding if he continued to stare at it.

Kane lowered himself toward the box, touching he knee to the box's center. He wailed as he laid it down, his skin sizzling under the touch of silver. He held all his weight on that knee for just a moment as he maneuvered his other leg inside, placing it beside the first so he knelt on the silver. Tears rolled freely down his face as his shins pressed against the torturous metal, his skin frying underneath him, the tips of his toes just barely kept from touching the side.

The next part was quick. He ducked down, curling into himself, his arms between his face and the box's floor while his back would face the lid. He didn't touch the backs of his arms to the bottom, not yet, not while there was still space for him to hover. The top of his head did press against the side, his malnourished, patchy hair thankfully offering minor protection from the silver surrounding him on all sides: it did burn, but not nearly as bad as his agonized legs.

All but one.

He sobbed as he burned, the feeling of silver searing against his shins unbearable. "I d-did it, sir."

"Fuck me, I didn't think it'd actually go for it," one of the hunters commented.

"That's our vamp. We've got you all trained up, huh?" asked the hunter who gave the order.

"Yes, sir," Kane sniffled, the smell of burning flesh beginning to permeate the air.

He couldn't see, facing the box's floor, but the sound he heard had limited possibilities: it had to be one of them picking up the lid.

"Don't move," the hunter told him.

Watching his tears patter to the silver floor, Kane wanted to beg again. He wanted to plead for someone, anyone to help him. He was trying his best. He just wanted it to stop.

But he was already getting the good option out of the two presented to him. "Yes, sir."

The hunter placed the lid over him, more silver pressing against his back and squeezing him between it and the floor. His arms were forced to the bottom of the box, where they came alight with pain as well, stuck in the burning darkness.

Kane screamed, unable to help himself as he started to struggle, desperate to get away from the thing that was hurting him so much. But he could barely move, let alone put up any real fight. Any direction he tried to move himself in just made it worse. Hunkering himself down made his shins and forearms weep against the silver, trying to push up made his back singe, and he could never move enough in any direction to alleviate the constant, agonizing feeling of being consumed by fire.

"I don't think it likes it in there," one of the hunters sneered.

Kane heard one of them pat the lid, unharmed by the silver burning him alive. "It'll get used to it. Let's give it some time to get comfortable."

A click rung out, the dreaded sound of a padlock locking firmly shut.

He was stuck inside until someone saw fit to- "Please let me out!" he bawled, desperate. "Please, sir, I can't, it hurts, please don't leave me in here!"

One of them chuckled. "Just relax. You'll get used to it. You're right where you're supposed to be. You're lucky we're not making it your new home after all."

Kane wept as he heard the hunters walk away, leaving him alone in his torment.

-

taglist in reblog! part 3 of the AU i've been posting will be coming tomorrow :) i was gonna write it tonight but i just got so inspired for this and wrote it all in 1 sitting over the past 3 hours lol

oh and have some drabbles i've posted since #50!

canon:

Playing With Food

Blowtorch

AU:

No Escape

Bellamy Saves Kane 2

and some awesome fanfics that got posted!!

Home Sweet Home? by @whumpwritings

The Final Apology by @clickerflight

[httpfandxms]

Exploring a New World (1/30)

Pairing: James T. Kirk x Reader

A/N: This is my very first fanfiction writing. I would really appreciate it if you would not plagiarize any of my work! Please give me your thoughts on this. I accept any suggestions or altercations for this series. If I’ve made mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense please let me know.

Important: The reader is Pike’s daughter, but I did NOT specify if they are biologically related or not (step daughter or adopted). I don’t ever intend to specify because I want poc!readers to be comfortable while reading

This series is based off the Star Trek: Alternate Original Series with actual scenes from the films.

You pushed open the doors to the club which allowed you to hear the full extent of the blaring music. You walked in making your way towards the very back looking for your friends.

As you made your way over to your group of friends you asked, “have any of you seen Uhura?” One nodded and pointed towards the bar. She was talking to a man, but with someone between them seemingly trying to ignore their conversation.

You walked through a small crowd, bumped into a few people on your way to Nyota. You placed a hand over her shoulder as you said, “hey, I figured I’d help you bring everything over.”

She smiled and responded, “thank you,” as she gave you a quick yet comforting hug.

“And who might you be, gorgeous,” the man she was speaking with said just before he pushed himself off the counter. He made his way towards you, but stopped once you were inches apart. You smelled the alcohol coming off his breath as he said, “I’m Jim Kirk.”

You glanced up to Jim realized that the man was actually blond and had the most alluring blue eyes. You along with anyone could get lost in those eyes. Your thoughts were interrupted as Nyota said, “she happens to be way out of your league.” She placed a hand on his chest to add some distance between you two.

“Oh, so that makes you in mine,” he teased as he turned to face Nyota.

“Please you are not her type. You seem more the kind to have sex with farm animals,” you scoffed.

“Well, not only,” he joked which resulted in you and Uhura to whole heartedly laugh. He took a step towards you and leaned forward as he whispered into your ear, “you definitely look like my type and I think I might be yours.”

Your eyes met his and you opened you’re mouth, but no words came out. Four officers approached you. The bald man in the middle ask, “this townie isn’t bothering you right?

“Beyond belief,” Nyota said then finished her drink.

“But its nothing we can’t handle,” you added whilst you waved them off.

“You both could handle me. That’s an invitation,” the blond quipped.

The bald officer barked, “hey, you better mind your manners. Do you have any idea who you’re trying to get with?”

“Relax, cupcake. It was a joke,” Kirk said as he patted man’s chest. He turned back towards you.

The man grabbed Kirk, spun him around to face him and snapped, “hey, farm boy. Maybe you can’t count, but there are four of us and one of you.”

“So get some more guys, and then it’ll be an even fight,” Kirk replied then tapped the man’s face.

The officer grabbed Kirk again and punched his across the face. He fell onto the bar groaning.

“Stop it,” Nyota growled.

Before the officer could hit Kirk in the face again, the blond kicked him in the stomach making him fall over a table. Another man came at Kirk, but he blocked his punches. Kirk got the upper hand and knocked the man out.

“That’s enough,” you pleaded.

A different officer came in and hit Kirk in the face making in spin onto Nyota with his hands on her breast. She pushed him off, but you stepped in and punched him in the face to wipe off that cocky smirk.

The men slammed the blond onto a table and beat him with one punch after the other.

“Guys, he’s had enough,” you yelled.

The man punching Kirk finally dropped him once a whistle was heard. Your eyes widened as you turned to the source of the noise only to see your father, Captain Christopher Pike.

“Outside, all of you. Now” he announced.

A chorus of “yes, sir” was heard as everyone made their way out of the bar. Your father saw you and shook his head as you gave him a shy shrug. Nyota wrapped her arm around yours and you walked out together.

~

The two men were sitting around a small table. “You know, I couldn’t believe it when the bartender told me who you are,” Pike chortled.

“Who the hell am I, Captain Pike,” Kirk mocked.

“You father’s son.”

Kirk ignored his statement and announced, “can I get another one,” to the bartender behind him.

“For my dissertation I was assigned to the U.S.S. Kelvin. Something I admired about your dad, he didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

Kirk took out the tissues out of nose and grumbled, “sure learned his lesson.”

Pike continued, “well that depends on how you define winning. You’re here, aren’t you? You know that instinct to leap without looking that was his nature too. And in my opinion, it something Starfleet’s lost.”

“Why are you talking to me man,” Kirk shook his head as he laughed.

“Because I looked up your file while you were drooling on the floor. Your aptitude tests are off the charts, so what is it? You like being the only genius-level repeat-offender in the Midwest?”

“Maybe I love it.”

“So your dad dies, you can settle for a less-than-ordinary life. Or do you feel like you were meant for something better? Something special? Enlist in Starfleet.”

“Enlist,” Kirk chuckled in disbelief. “You guys must be way down on your recruiting quarter for the month.”

Pike eyed Kirk for a moment the said, “you know, you remind me of my daughter. Always has a knack for trouble… and stubborn.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to her right now” Kirk answered back

“Because she actually got up and did something for herself. Rather than waste good potential,” Pike retorted. “Starfleet could use you. You can be an officer in four years, you can have your own ship in eight. You understand what the Federation is, don’t you? It’s important. It’s a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada.”

“We done?”

“I’m done,” Pike responded then stood up. “Riverside shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow at 0800.” Pike gave a tight-lipped smile then continued, “your father was captain of a starship for twelve minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother’s and yours. I dare you to do better.”

~

Kirk arrived on his bike and stopped near you and your father. He tossed his keys to a passing worker after they complimented his ride. He walked to your father and said, “four years? I’ll do it in three.” He then looked at you and beamed, “hello again, beautiful,” then turned around to enter the shuttle.

Your father tilted his head towards you, “you’ve met Kirk,” he asked with a raised brow.

You cringed as you responded, “yes, I did.” After a moment of silence of waiting for his response you chimed, “ok! I’m going to go and take my seat.” Then you went on the tip of your toes as you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a bit!” He slowly nodded making a face as though he was deep in thought.

On your way up the steps to the shuttle your father stammered, “it wasn’t like a date or anything, right?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I punched him” you reassured. He slowly let out a long breath and gave you a thumbs up.

You giggled slightly and turned on your heels and entered the shuttle. You saw Nyota and went towards her, only to notice that there weren’t any seats available beside her. She gave you an apologetic look and mouthed, “sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved her off.

The only visible seats available were near Kirk. You sat beside him though leaving a seat between each other. “How’s your face,” you turned to smile at him. You watched as he opened his mouth only to be interrupted by a female officer and a man who were arguing as they entered the shuttle.

“I told you I don’t need a doctor. I am a doctor,” the man yelled.

“You need to get back to your seat.”

“I had one in the bathroom with no windows.

They kept at it until she said, “sir, for your own safely, sit down, or else I’ll make you sit down!”

That got him to keep quiet and sat down between you and Kirk. The man leaned over to Kirk and stated, “I may throw up on you. I’m choosing you over the beautiful girl beside me.” He motioned to you with his head. You looked down with a small smile as you pretended to not overhear the comment.

“Fair enough, but I think these things are pretty safe,” Kirk remarked.

“Don’t pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in 13 seconds. A solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait till you’re sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you’re still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”

“Well, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in space,” you chimed in.

“Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go. The ex wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I’ve got left is my bones,” the man said as he took out a flask and took a sip. He offered to Kirk who accepted.

“Jim Kirk,” he introduced himself as he raised the flask then took a sip.

“McCoy. Leonard McCoy,” the man said as Kirk passed it back.

Leonard offered you the flask which you took, “pleasure to meet you Leonard.” You took a sip and placed it into his awaiting hand.

“You going to tell me, us, your name or should we just keep calling you beautiful,” Kirk smiled.

“It’s Pike, Y/n Pike.”

[v-thinks-on]

Generations - Part 9

First | Previous || Sequel: Nemesis

Jim was subdued and contemplative for the next few days. He talked easily with the various officials that came to visit the famous captain, returned from the dead, but when he was alone with Spock, he was unusually quiet and serious. He made no indication that he wanted to talk about it, so Spock did not impose - he had done his part for better or worse and would push no further.

One evening, as they were preparing for bed, Jim spoke up. "There's nothing I can do," he said ruefully, but he did not sound defeated.

Spock waited for him to continue, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Jim sat down on the bed, and once Spock was dressed, he sat down facing Jim, with just a few inches between them.

Only then did Jim continue, “Maybe I could have beat Khan - raised the shields sooner, somehow kept him from getting the Genesis device - but I would probably do it all the same if I tried again.” He shook his head.

Spock looked him firmly in the eye. “Like all mortal beings, you at times make mistakes.”

Jim frowned and Spock could feel his displeasure at the sentiment, but he could not deny it. “There’s definitely nothing I can do about it now,” Jim admitted.

“If there had been another option, I would have taken it. Under the circumstances, I do not regret my decision,” Spock said, though that didn’t stop a feeling of guilt from seeping through the bond.

Jim nodded. He didn’t like it, but again he couldn’t argue. “No one else could have survived in there long enough to do anything. If we just had more time… But we didn’t. If you hadn’t done it, we would have all died, and then there wouldn’t have been anyone left to bring you back.” He gave Spock a weak smile.

“A very logical appraisal of the situation,” Spock said, almost cautiously. For all of Jim’s well-reasoned logic, a powerful malaise bubbled beneath the surface.

Spock reached out a hand with the vague intention of resting it on Jim’s arm, but Jim instead took Spock’s hand in his own, letting his unspoken feelings rush through the contact.

“Jim,” Spock said gently, with just a tinge of uncertainty as he tried to convey some kind of apology for everything he had put Jim through, even though he would do it all again in a heartbeat if Jim’s life was in danger.

Jim cradled Spock’s hand between his own, savoring his soft touch and the steady warmth that emanated from within. If Jim pressed his fingertips to Spock’s wrist, he could feel Spock’s heart racing at a Vulcan’s resting speed.

There was some distance between them, not a wall, but he could still feel Spock’s reticence, and Jim was still a little lost in memories. And yet, the warmth Jim felt through Spock’s hand was not only physical; there was also a great affection, restrained as it was, and a desire to do right by him and to mend what was broken.

Spock waited and watched him in silence, allowing Jim to take his time, almost afraid to upset the balance he had already disturbed.

The memories still haunted Jim, but he wondered if maybe the solution was right in front of him. He squeezed Spock’s hand and let his eyes fall shut to savor all of the soothing warmth that radiated from Spock. In return, he tried to answer all of Spock’s concerns with gentle reassurance. They had made it this far, there was little doubt they could figure out everything else.

He could feel a trace of a smile flash across Spock’s lips that was echoed on his own.

  “It’s absurd,” Jim said. He was sitting on Bones’s couch, under the cynical eye of his old friend. “How old am I?”

“Sixty,” Bones retorted.

“And eighty years out of touch,” Jim said, with a wave of his arm for emphasis. “I’m like one of my old antiques.”

"And what does that make me?" Bones demanded.

"I don't know," Jim said with a sigh. “You seem to enjoy retirement.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Bones wagged his finger at him.

Jim shook his head. “I shouldn’t even be thinking about returning to Starfleet, all I’d get is a desk job - or worse, publicity. They’d figure out pretty quick I’m too old to be of use anywhere else.”

“You damn well know that’s not true,” Bones snapped. “You’re just trying to talk yourself out of the most sensible decision you’ll ever make.”

Jim gave him a look. More seriously, he said, “Bones, I can’t go out there again.”

“Why the hell not?” Bones insisted. “You can’t tell me you’d rather follow Spock on his fool mission to Romulus, because we both know that’s not true.”

Jim let out another sigh and leaned back, letting his eyes wander up to the ceiling. “What if it happens again?”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, Jim, but everyone dies eventually, whether you’re exploring out there or wasting away down here,” Bones said, but his voice had lost its edge.

“It’s not that simple,” Jim protested.

Bones gave him a look of disbelief. “You always knew there were risks.”

“I know, but I didn’t really believe it. I always assumed we’d come out alright.”

Bones nodded. “Sometimes it felt like I was the only one taking things seriously.”

“But after Spock died…” Jim trailed off, unable to put it all into words.

“Toward the end there, I was worried you’d get yourself killed waiting for him to get his memories back,” Bones said quietly.

That just about summed it up. “And I tried again, but it just wasn’t the same.”

“They didn’t give you a chance,” Bones retorted. “And then Spock wandered off to try and make peace with the Klingons.”

“At least he was making a difference.”

Bones hesitated. “How are things with Spock? I can come up to San Francisco and knock some sense into him.”

“It’s alright.” Jim waved off the suggestion with a small smile. “Things are actually going well. The past eighty years haven’t been easy on him, but he’s been very supportive. He agrees with you that I should go back to Starfleet.”

“Damn right he does!”

  “You never were quite the same,” Jim remarked.

He and Spock were sitting on the couch in the living room of their apartment, Jim ostensibly reading and Spock meditating as he kitted again. But Jim had given up on reading a while ago in favor of watching Spock.

His words jarred Spock out of his meditation. He put aside his knitting and waited for Jim to continue, regarding him with his full attention.

“After you came back,” Jim explained. “You were never so... independent before. I know you only accepted that captaincy because I pushed you into it, but you finally found something that’s yours.” He smiled at Spock with open admiration.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, but remained more reserved. “I merely did what needed to be done,” he said, but they both knew it was more than that.

“You don’t really need me any more,” Jim said, his voice deceptively light.

Spock fixed him with his firmest look. “You may no longer be my commanding officer, but I have been and always shall be your friend.”

At the familiar words, Jim felt a rush of warmth, and a little shame at his accusation.

Spock held out his first two fingers to Jim, who reciprocated the gesture, brushing their fingertips together so sparks flew down their spines and danced across their minds. When they drew apart, they sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, letting the other’s presence echo in their mind.

Spock was the first to speak, slow and cautious; “I was under the perhaps inaccurate impression that my presence was insufficient to aid in your recovery from the broken bond - that you required something that I could not provide.”

“I don’t know what I need,” Jim admitted. “But your presence helps.”

The lonely years of his last mission and his subsequent solitary retirement lingered unspoken between them. Jim could feel the weight of Spock’s guilt.

Jim rested a reassuring hand on Spock’s shoulder. “We’ve both had more than our share of loneliness.” Jim hadn’t intended to be missing for eighty years, but when he left the bridge of the Enterprise-B he half expected not to survive at all.

“Would you like for me to serve as your first officer again?” Spock asked hesitantly, and maybe even a little reluctantly, but if Jim needed him, he would do anything.

“I don’t know,” Jim said. “There’s nothing like the good old days, but I don’t know if I could bear the responsibility. And I would hate to keep you away from Romulus.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know if I really want to go back out there.”

They both knew Spock’s opinion on the matter, so he did not bother to voice it.

Jim picked back up his reading and scootched over so he could lean against Spock’s chest, comfortably in the way of his knitting. Spock obligingly put an arm around Jim’s shoulders.

 Kirk and Spock met Scotty at the Starfleet transporter terminal. He bounded over to them as soon as he materialized, looking no older than when Kirk had last seen him on the Enterprise-B.

“Captain!” Scotty exclaimed, greeting Kirk with an outstretched hand.

“I’m not a captain anymore,” Kirk attempted, but he went ignored, probably for the best.

Scotty gave his hand a firm shake. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you again, Sir. I thought for sure you were dead.”

Kirk smiled. “You know I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

“Of course, Sir. And, Mr. Spock, it’s good to see you too. You didn’t get stuck in a temporal nexus too, did you?”

Spock shook his head and raised a hand, his fingers splayed in the formal Vulcan greeting. “Live long and prosper, Mr. Scott.”

“I intend to,” Scotty replied. He turned back to Kirk. “I came as soon as I heard, it just took a wee bit longer than expected. I had to hitch a ride on three different starships just to get back to the solar system.”

“You didn’t make it all the way here on the little shuttlecraft Picard gave you?” Kirk teased, as he led the way out of the transporter bay and into the hallway of Starfleet Headquarters.

“No,” Scotty said. “She’s a good craft, but even with the modifications I made to the engines, she’d still have taken a few years to make it to Earth.”

“I’ve been reading up on your adventures. It sounds like you’ve had quite the time.”

Scotty nodded. “And before you ask, I’m happy exploring in my own little craft. Anyway, you need a bright young chief engineer who can keep up with all your crazy demands.”

Kirk hesitated. “You know I’m still retired.”

Scotty gave him a look. “Have they not offered you a ship yet? Just point me to the head of Starfleet and I’ll give them a little talking to!”

“It’s not that,” Kirk said reluctantly. “They’ve offered, I just haven’t decided whether I want to accept.”

“You have a better offer?” Scotty asked skeptically.

“Maybe,” Kirk said with a glance over at Spock.

Spock made his disagreement known, though his expression remained impassive, and Scotty glanced between them both in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to become an ambassador,” Scotty said.

Kirk shrugged. “Something like that. It’s a possibility at least.”

Scotty just shook his head.

Kirk and Spock led Scotty around Starfleet Headquarters, making a token attempt at an official tour as they talked.

“Things really have changed,” Scotty remarked. “Out there, it doesn’t feel like it’s been so long, but down here…” he trailed off.

Kirk nodded in understanding. “Have you seen Bones?”

“No, I’ve been meaning to visit since I found out he was still around, but it’s such a hassle to come back to Earth with the shuttlecraft,” Scotty explained. He sounded a little sheepish.

“He’s doing well for a man of his age,” Kirk said with a subdued smile.

“If any of us had it in him to live this long, it would be Dr. McCoy,” Scotty said. “Not to mention Mr. Spock here with his Vulcan constitution. You really haven’t aged at all in the last eighty years.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “I feel my age, if more slowly than the average human.”

“Tell me when your hair turns grey,” Scotty retorted.

“The process has already begun.”

Scotty gave Spock a look of disbelief, before he turned back to Kirk. “It’s not so different once you get used to it, even the engines haven’t changed too much. Though they’ve become sticklers for regulation, at least they did on the Enterprise-D.”

“Captain Picard does it by the book. But the galaxy sure has changed since we made peace with the Klingons.” Kirk glanced over at Spock in acknowledgement.

“I don’t know,” Scotty said, “I’ve just been in my little sector, but space seems the same as it always was.”

“Good. There’s still plenty left to explore?”

“Of course! And it’s good to be back.”

Kirk nodded. “It is good to be back.”

Kirk rang at the door to Picard’s temporary office in Starfleet Headquarters.

“Come in,” Picard called out.

Kirk stepped inside. His office was large and mostly barren, like Kirk’s office on Earth had been before the paperwork started piling up.

“Oh, Jim, there you are,” Picard exclaimed, glancing up from a PADD. “For a moment I thought you were here about another personnel transfer. Have a seat.”

Kirk took the chair on the other side of Picard’s desk, as though he was there for a meeting. “How’s it going?” Kirk asked as he made himself comfortable.

“Well. It’s a lot of work, but slowly but surely it’s all coming together.” Picard spoke like a true captain, proud of his ship even before it was off the ground. “Have you been down to the construction site?”

“No,” Kirk admitted. “But I should.”

Picard hesitated. “If you’re still on Earth, I would be honored if you would give us a send-off.”

Kirk could only remember the last time he agreed to be there for the inauguration of a new Enterprise - not so long ago from his perspective.

It must have shown on Kirk’s face, because Picard added, “Only if you want to, of course. I know you’ve been getting more than your share of attention.”

Kirk smiled a little. “Just as long as you go out with a full crew and a functioning ship.”

“Of course. That’s standard procedure after the disastrous launch of the Enterprise-B…” Picard trailed off as he realized that was why Kirk had mentioned it. “There’s no danger of that happening again,” Picard reassured him.

“I wouldn’t mind jumping ahead another eighty years, but I don’t think Spock would be too happy about it.”

“No, I imagine not. How have you been doing on Earth?”

Kirk shrugged. “Alright, getting settled in, catching up with old friends.”

“Yes, I heard Captain Scott arrived recently.”

Kirk nodded. “We also met up with Bones - Admiral McCoy. Otherwise, Spock and I have been sorting things out.”

“Is Spock going to go back to Romulus?” Picard asked, his disapproval clear.

Kirk just smiled. “I couldn’t tell you if he was.”

Picard frowned. "Well, tell him that there are officially sanctioned channels for diplomacy if he wants to communicate with the Romulans. He can't just go around trying to alter the development of sovereign civilizations."

Kirk knew better than to attempt to argue with either of them. Instead he asked, "Are all of your senior officers staying on?"

"All except for Commander Worf," Picard said, but he was not so easily deterred. "You're not planning on going with Ambassador Spock, are you?"

Agan, Kirk could only smile. "Mr. Worf's transferring?"

"No, he decided he needed some leave for personal reasons.”

Kirk nodded. “Spock mentioned that Mr. Worf has a son.”

“He does. And it’s not easy being a Klingon and a Starfleet officer.” Picard turned the topic back to Kirk - “What are you planning on doing next?”

“I’m not sure,” Kirk admitted with a sigh. “I’m actually considering returning to Starfleet,” he said, as though it was a crazy idea.

“As a captain?” Picard confirmed.

Kirk answered with a wry grin, “I wouldn’t let them promote me.” But he quickly turned serious. “I don’t know. I know you won’t believe me if I say I’m too old, but it feels like I’m pushing my luck.”

“If you volunteer, I can promise you no one will turn you away. Starfleet needs captains a lot more than it needs admirals right now.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“What does Ambassador Spock think?” Picard asked a little reluctantly.

“Everyone thinks I should accept any captaincy I can get. I’m the only one who isn’t so sure.”

“It’s hard to argue with that.”

“They’re starting to convince me.” Kirk hesitated. ”But last time I was in command it didn’t go too well...” he trailed off.

“You can’t know what will happen until you try,” Picard suggested.

“You’re right.” After a moment’s pause, Kirk asked, “What would you do if you weren’t captain of the Enterprise?”

“Me?” Picard asked. “I don’t know. One day I suppose they’ll promote me, or I’ll have to retire, but that still feels a long ways off. I don’t really belong back on Earth, tending the old family vineyard. I considered joining the Atlantis project after everything with the Borg, but my heart wasn’t really in it.” He turned the question back on Kirk - “What else would you do?”

Kirk shrugged. “I tried teaching at the academy a little after I retired. I could follow Spock into enemy territory or pick up a shuttlecraft like Scotty.”

Picard looked unconvinced.

“None of them really compare, do they?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Picard replied.

“You think they’d give me an exploratory mission?”

“If you asked for it, they might even give you the Enterprise-E, though I would prefer if you didn’t ask for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kirk said with a mischievous grin.

Jim stood on an outcropping overlooking the green, forested hills, dotted with light brown patches of dried out grasses. He could see the winding path that he and Spock had taken up to the low peak. It was good to get out of the city. At least out in the wilderness, they were free from prying eyes and curious reporters.

They had mostly hiked in silence, occasionally communicating through the bond, but Jim had largely been left to his own thoughts. He could feel Spock’s curiosity and concern, but he was willing to watch and wait, ready to intercede only if Jim needed it.

Jim beckoned Spock onto the outcropping, to share in the view and Spock obliged even though he could see it clearly enough through the bond. Jim snuck an arm around Spock’s waist and they stood there in silence a little longer, just enjoying the view. Despite his heavy coat, it was a little chilly for an aging Vulcan out in the open with a steady breeze, but Spock didn’t mind so much as Jim leaned into his side.

Finally, Jim shot Spock a wry smile. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him in feigned innocence.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you to Romulus?” Jim asked one last time, even though he very well knew the answer.

“Frankly, it would be a waste of material,” Spock replied with a trace of a smile of his own.

Jim sighed, though he appreciated the compliment. Even if he went to Romulus, if something happened, there wasn’t anything he could do.

Spock met Jim’s eyes. “The last thing I want to do is to prevent you from living.”

“I know,” Jim said. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I you,” Spock said.

Jim leaned in to kiss Spock on the lips at the same time as Spock reached out with his first two fingers. Their lips and fingertips pressed together simultaneously in a soft, warm embrace.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Kirk announced. “I’d like to reactivate my commission - with a few conditions.”

“That’s great,” the admiral exclaimed. “I know you’re used to commanding the Enterprise, but-”

Kirk cut her off with a wave. “The Enterprise belongs to Captain Picard. I just want a ship and a star to steer her by.”

“The Constitution is almost done being refitted, I can arrange a tour immediately.”

“My only conditions are that I want an exploratory mission, as far from Starfleet Command as possible, and I won’t accept any promotions.”

“We can work with that,” the admiral said.

She held out a hand for him to shake and he took it.

“A toast,” Bones declared, holding up his glass, “to cheating death.”

The others raised their glasses with a cheer and clinked them together.

“It is highly improbable,” Spock remarked with a fond glance at Jim.

Scotty clapped Jim on the back. “If anyone could do it, we could.”

“We all had to become miracle workers to put up with your crazy plans,” Bones added.

“I hope the new crew is up to it,” Jim said.

“Don’t be too hard on them,” Bones cautioned. He turned to Scotty - “You decided you’ve finally had enough?”

“I was ready to retire then, I’m still ready now,” Scotty said. “It’ll take a younger person than me to keep up with Captain Kirk. You’re happy to be back on the ground?”

“I’ve had more than my share of outer space, thank you very much,” Bones said. “I must have been mad to stay out there as long as I did.” He rounded on Spock - “You’re really going back to your fool’s errand on Romulus?”

“I intend to return to Romulus,” Spock replied, careful not to confirm the rest of Bones’s statement.

Bones just shook his head.

“What are you doing on Romulus? I thought for sure you would have stayed on as first officer,” Scotty exclaimed.

“I have my own mission, educating the people of Romulus in Vulcan philosophy so that one day the two societies can be reunited,” Spock explained.

“Good luck,” Scotty said. “It sounds like you’ll need all the luck you can get.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott.”

Scotty leaned back in his chair and remarked, “After peace with the Klingons, peace with the Romulans suddenly doesn’t sound so far-fetched.”

“We’ll all have to band together to handle the Borg,” Jim added.

Scotty shook his head. “Somehow it seems like it was all simpler when we were just at war with the Klingons, but maybe that’s just the nostalgia speaking.”

“It wasn’t simple then and it isn’t now,” Bones retorted.

“A very efficient appraisal of the situation,” Spock intoned. “For a doctor, your understanding of galactic affairs is remarkable.”

“Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I don’t have ears,” Bones snapped.

“Gentlemen,” Jim interrupted with a smile, “Can you agree with each other without turning it into an argument?”

“What will you do with a ship full of obedient young officers?” Scotty put in. “You’re liable to get bored.”

“Yes,” Jim said, “I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” Without thinking, he glanced over at Spock and met his eyes. They would be apart for a long time, but the galaxy was waiting for them, and they would never truly be alone.

 Captain Kirk sat in the center of the bridge. The new chairs leaned back too far, so he perched on the edge of his seat, watching the stationary stars on the viewscreen ahead. On his right was his ambitious young first officer, and on his left was the ship’s counselor. Around him, officers hurried to and fro, preparing the ship for launch. They all looked so young, fresh out of the academy. He could hardly imagine they were ready for a mission, even their first.

We were younger, Spock remarked over their bond. For an instant, Jim glimpsed the interior of an underground cavern, no doubt on Romulus.

Kirk just shook his head in disbelief.

“Starfleet Command says we’re clear to launch,” the communications officer reported from the terminal just above the captain's chair.

“Good,” Kirk said. “Helm, take us out of here, slow and steady until we’re out of the solar system.”

They gradually pulled away from planet Earth, past the moon and the reddish sphere of Mars, and then they turned up, peeling away from the asteroid belt. They got a final glimpse of the sun before rocketing off, toward the stars.

 Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the USS Constitution, on its continuing mission to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, and boldly go where no one has gone before!

Note: I want to thank everyone who made it all the way to the end! This story has been on my mind for a long time, and I hope you enjoyed the final result as much as I enjoyed writing it!

It’s been an incredible one and a half years of practically non-stop Star Trek. I have a few shorter stories waiting to be posted and I’m really excited about the longer story I’m working on for this year’s T’hy’la Bang that will come out in June! However, otherwise, my thoughts have largely turned to my other loves; Sherlock Holmes and a new addition, Jeeves and Wooster.

I don’t want to stop writing Kirk and Spock, but to keep it up, I need your help: if there’s anything you want me to write, send me a prompt! It can be anything from a specific scenario, to a song that makes you think of them, or even just a word, and I’ll write a short fic. (The only rule is, as usual, no sex.)

As always, thank you all very much for reading!

[imagine-fanfics]

Story: Among The Stars; Chapter One - The Beginning Word Count: 1,255 Warnings: Shitty beginning? Author’s Note: I decided to start a story that I’ve had on my mind for the past week or so. I have no idea how many chapters I am going to write, but this will be a Kirk love story. This isn’t an actually x reader story, but you are more than welcome to change the name to fit your liking.

Assistant chief engineer working under Montgomery Scott. That was the role Evalynn played on the USS Enterprise. She was transferred shortly after the events of the Romulans trying to destroy the Federation planets. Evalynn remembered being on Earth, seeing the drill that threatened to destroy the entire planet. Evalynn was so close to graduating and being assigned an actual vessel, so she was more than thankful when the crew of the USS Enterprise were able to stop it. She was even more ecstatic when she was assigned to the USS Enterprise when she finished the academy.

She had been on the Enterprise for a month, the transition from academy student to ACE was smooth, thanks to a certain Chief Engineer who was her boss. Scotty is what he liked to be called, and she happily obliged. He was a rather peculiar individual, but being around him made the job fun, and on top of that, she made fast friends with Keenser as well. Working under Scotty allowed her to expand her knowledge, learning more than just the "grunt work" that came with the job. Fixing things is what fascinated the twenty-six year old woman. Breaking things apart and seeing how it was made, how it operated.

The engineering department was the perfect fit for her, and she excelled in her academic schooling. It was one of the foremost reasons she was giving the rank of assistant chief engineer. Engineering officers were generally assigned tasks that included maintaining and/or improving the performance of the warp drive, ship's database, computer processors and circuitry, holographic emitters, tractor beams, transporter components, observational equipment (such as sensors, probes, and satellites), weaponry systems, deflector array, hull plating, life support, shields and alternative defense systems, and many other crucial parts of a ship's anatomy. They were expected to tackle all the problems that drained the ship's resources or lowered its efficiency.

To say she stayed busy was an understatement.

----

"Lieutenant Jones, are you finished with those calculations for the tractor beams?" Scotty's voice caught Evalynn off guard as she felt her body jolt. A deep inhale as she turned around to allow her hazel optics to focus on the man she had grown to know. Golden brown locks of hair flowed down to mere inches from her butt, only being restrained from the pony-tail. The crimson red dress uniform hugged her features, but still leaving enough to the imagination; that she wasn't flat out uncomfortable. If she had her way, however, she would be wearing pants to hide the legs she so strongly despised.

It wasn't as if she hated the way she looked, but there were distinct aspect to herself that she would change if given the option. "Yes, Mr. Scott." Evalynn's voice was pleasant, yet had a directness to it that informed she was educated and not to be taken lightly. She knew what she was doing, and wasn't going to be second guessed. It was what made Scotty have high respect for the lieutenant, and was grounds on which their friendship had formed.

"Aye, I told ya, lassie, call me Scotty." He spoke with his usual Scottish accent, something that Evalynn absolutely adored. Loving the joys that the Federation allowed any and everyone to stand together for the same cause. Peace. No matter what their background was. Evalynn was a simple woman who hailed from Indiana, but that didn't stop her from making friends with what her ancestors would call foreigners, such as Scotty, Sulu and Chekov. Two of her best friends aboard the ship since she first joined.

It seemed that she was becoming friends with most of the crew, aside from the trio that always seemed to be near each other; Dr. McCoy, Spock and the Captain himself. Being on the starship for a month, and she still hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the famed womanizer--she heard stories about him from his academy days--Captain James T. Kirk. Although, she did pass Spock a few times during the day, and greeted the doctor when she ended up splitting open her hand trying to adjust the weaponry systems. The joys of being an engineer.

Nevertheless, she could be found somewhere around Scotty and Keenser when she wasn't working on the ship. It was part of her job description. Assisting Scotty. That also meant taking breaks with him when he allowed. The first few weeks she only took a few short breaks to finish her food and get back to work, but as of lately, she had been spending more time with Scotty and Keenser. Enjoying the shenanigans and joking they would partake in. It was exactly that which allowed her to first lay eyes on the captain when he entered the mess hall.

The food synthesizer was the best invention, according to Evalynn. She was obsessed with breakfast foods, and every time she stepped foot into the mess hall, she would have something regarding breakfast food, or pasta. "Don't you ever get tired of having the same stuff?" Scotty's tone held a hint of distaste as Evalynn bit into her breakfast burger. It held the burger, mayo, bacon, an over easy egg and hash browns all mushed together between two buns. The loaded fries completed her meal much to her contentment.

"It's not the same stuff, I get different things every day." She retorted, giving Scotty a playful grin as she swallowed the bite she was chewing. "You eat like a man." The doctor chimed in as he sat next to Scotty, opposite of her on the table. The simple declaration was enough to cause her to scrunch up her nose, a vexed look on her face as she ignored his observation. It took merely a second more for her to realize that Bones had joined them in the mess hall, at the same table. It wouldn't be long before the captain would show his face. She had never seen the Captain without Bones or Spock by his side.

Expectant eyes scanned the area for the blonde haired man, only to have a gasp escape her lips as the man himself claimed the seat that was next to her. Hazel hues locked onto him as he smiled at Bones, teasing the doctor. "What does that make you, Bones? I've never seen you eat like that." He motioned toward Evalynn's food, causing her to almost choke as she fought back the urge to laugh. It was then she felt stares on her, burning a hole through her very soul. Turning her head to face the captain, he gave her a warm smile. "Hello, I don't believe we have had the pleasure of meeting. I'm Jim, Jim Kirk." He extended a hand across his body, holding it toward her in a means to introduce himself.

"Lieutenant Evalynn Jones." She replies with mild confidence as she connected her hand with his, giving a firm handshake. "Aye, Jim, I've told you about Evalynn. She's my assistant." Scotty announced, proudly, with a hint of possession. Like he was letting Jim know that she was off limits to him. It was endearing that Scotty would try and protect her from the playboy that was Jim Kirk. So, she left it alone and didn't retaliate. Your eyes stayed on Jim for a moment, his smile unfaltering, causing her heart to skip a beat.

"It is delight to have you aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant Jones." He all but ignored Scotty's words. "Likewise, Captain." She responded, exhaling the breath she didn't realize she was holding in.

[impalaanddemons]

Enterprise Crowd - Christmas Special

Summary: A mission gone wrong. A landing party stranded in a snow storm. A relationship that needs some serious alone time. She is our mutinous Lieutenant Reader, part of Enterprise IT. He's her commanding chief engineer. And they're 60 inches deep in snow. Wordcount: 1500ish A/N: So.. yeah. Surprise! I’ve had this in my head for a while now. And I think it’s the perfect time to be jolly and strand two asshats on an Class K planet to sort out there stuff. Warnings: Cursing, more cursing, rocky relationship, age difference, there is so much fluff on the horizon you have no idea, i hope you’re excited as i am

A bitter cold wind tore at the sleeves of your life-support suit, ripped back the cowl of your jacket exposing your ears and eyes and nose to the freezing cold. The lace you had been absent mindedly chewing on while you tried to ignore your slowly freezing finger tips slowly turned into ice. „Fuck that Vance.“, you yelled over the howling storm and loosened your grip on the railings before you, swinging slightly in your climbing harness. „Why did no one bother to install a remote service system before?“ „Dunno.“ Vance replied and the marshmallow like silhouette you could make out in front of you seemed to shrug. „Like, you know - in fucking summer. When the fucking sun is shining. And my fingers are not fuck-„ „If I have tae here that word one more time, Y/N, I’m gonna need ta take disciplinary action.“ sounded a ruff scottish accent over your intercom. The silhouettes shoulders shivered suspiciously. „And to answer yer questions: Because the summer sun would melt yer pretty right face af.“ The silhouettes shoulders shivered more violently now and you could hear a muffled laughter over the intercom. Raising one hand you gestured over to the figure, tracing your neck slowly with your index finger as a warning. „Aye, Mr. Scott. Understood, Mr. Scott.“, you muttered. Vance made obscene gestures with his hands. „Now get the job finished, I dinnae want you two frozen to that relay.“ „Aye, Mr. Scott“, you replied, your voice flat and hopefully devoid of any mutinous emotions. Vances voice buzzed over the intercom as well in affirmation of your orders, then the intercom went silent. „Fuck you, Vance.“ you mouthed in his general direction.

Finishing work on the relay was once thing. The 400 meter climb back down in the icy cold was another. As was being basically chained to Vance during the whole ordeal. „So, Y/N“ he said, an inkling of amusement lingering in the corners of his mouth. The whole descent was painfully slow to begin with and his piercing blue eyes measuring your face didn’t help. „You and Mr. Scott.“ „Is there nothing else you wanna talk about?“ „What? Nearly half a kilometer up in the air? Tied to my beautiful co-worker in the freezing cold? Nah.“ he snickered. Everyone else you’d have head butted into oblivion given the chance and similar circumstances, but you and Vance had spent so much time together stuck in one awkward position or the other working on some absurd problem, you knew your banter was nothing to worry about. You may have hated him at times, but god if there was one person on the Enterprise you could trust, it was that idiot. Which didn’t mean you’d grace him with an answer to his incredulous question though. „Aw, c’mon. You’re the chief engineers girlfriend, ain’t ya?“ „Am not.“ you muttered in return, pursing your lips. „So…“ Vance took a deep breath and snickered. You rolled your eyes as you braced for the inevitable pun. „Did things … cool down between you too?“ You groaned in return. „I’m not gonna answer that, Vance.“ „C’mon. We’ve known each other for what? 5 years?“ You shrugged and counted the meters left to the ground and your pickup point. This was not exactly a matter you wanted to discuss with your co-worker, even if said co-worker happened to be Vance. Mr. Scott was kind and fun and a bullhead for sure. You two matched wits and temperament. But he was your superior and an established work relationship didn’t just change over night. Well. It did. Which was the whole point. You huffed, frustrated and now slightly angry. „Don’t give me that look, Y/N.“, Vance let a few centimeters of your safety rope at a time slip through his fingers, while you reattached the locking hooks. „It’s difficult, okay?“ you muttered once again and hoped your words would get lost in the storm. „It’s not. Only in your head.“ Vance waited for you to reattach the second locking hook. „He’s my boss. He’s our boss, Vance. And he’s a stubborn know-it-all.“ „Oh, I can hardly imagine you two getting along then.“ his chest vibrated with a chuckle you didn’t hear, but feel. „I’m going to kick you, Vance.“ „With your attitude at work, that’s probably a lot of make-up-sex, huh?“ „That’s it“ you growled and jerked your knee upward. Well, it was a honorable try in defense of your general dignity, but being all marshmallow-y it was more of comedic reenactment then a real fight. You swung in your ropes for a moment, Vance rocking with laughter at your feeble attempt in self defense.

„Lieutenant Y/L/N, Lieutenant Scofield! Report to the bridge, have you encountered problems on your way down?“ that was Kirks smooth baritone over the intercom and you wondered how long the bridge had been listening in. Too long probably. That was another thing: the prying of Mr. Scotts fellow commanding officers. Captain Kirks smirking and Doctor McCoy always finding a reason to do your examinations personally. The sly dog. You tried to death glare Vance with little effect and answered for the both of you since he was biting into his glove to contain his laughter. „Everything’s fine, Captain.“ „The wind has picked up by exactly 20m/s for the past five minutes and atmospheric interferences will make a transport back impossible within the next 15 minutes, Lieutenants. I advise you to head back as soon as possible.“ „Right, Sir. We’re already on our way.“ As the wind picked up speed, so did the two of you.

„Three minutes and 15 seconds remaining until the window for transporter activity is shut for the next couple of hours.“ Mr. Spocks sonorous voice pierced the silence on the bridge. The captain was leaning back in his chair, one arm resting comfortably on the console of his captains chair while listening to his vulcan officers assessment.

Bones was standing to his left side, arms crossed in front of him and tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. He did so unconsciously, it was one of his little habits whenever a landing party was confronted with potential problems. Kirk smiled all to himself, cherishing the things he noticed about his crew that others might’ve missed. „3 minutes.“ „We’re on the ground.“ the Lieutenants voice cracked over the intercomm, the signal was getting worse by the minute. Were it not for the miracle work of Mr. Scott - on a normal ship they’d have already been stranded down there until the storm would’ve passed. „We’re approaching the pickup point now.“ Lieutenant Vances voice cut through the bridge now. „2 minutes and 45 seconds.“ the Vulcan said calmly. „Stand by for transport in 30 seconds.“ that was Mr. Scotts voice now, also over the intercom as he insisted on overseeing the transport himself. „Shit.“ Kirks eyebrow quirked ever so slightly and he exchanged a glance with Bones. „We forgot the diagnostics tricorder.“ „Forget it, Lieutenant, we’ll pick it up later. Go to the pickup point.“ „We can’t run diagnostics on the relay without it. I’m gonna fetch it.“ „2 minutes.“ the Vulcan turned around in his seat for a half glance at his captain. „Yer absolutely not, Lieutenant. Get on the pickup point right now.“ Seconds passed in silence. Again. „Mr. Scofield ready for pickup.“ „Y/N get yer feet on there NOW.“ Mr. Scott was fuming. Kirk could practically see him, his fingers flying over the console of the transporter. „One minute.“ „Y/N has reached the relay, Sir. She’s running, Sir.“ „Oh, she better is.“ „Mr. Scott. You will not have time to energize the transporter system a second time. by my calculations …“ „Yes, Mr. Spock, I know.“ Mr. Scotts voice sounded more distant now, as if he’d stepped back from the console. Kirk pushed a button on his chair. „Mr. Scott, report please.“ „I’ll transport Mr. Scofield to the Enterprise.“ „25 seconds remaining.“ Someone said something over the planetary intercomm, but the  signal was too mangled to make anything out. „Lieutenant Uhura.“ Kirk stated simply, nodding over to his communications officer. She responded with a curt nod and an „Aye“ and got to work. „I’m planetside, getting my engineer.“ said the voice of Mr. Scott again. „5 seconds.“ And then he energized the transporter signal.

„Well.“ muttered Doctor McCoy, stepping slightly forward. „If their temper isn’t going to trigger a global warming event down there, nothing else will.“

Chekov and Sulu both chuckled at the notion. Kirks lips turned into an amused half smile. „I’ll have a look at Mr. Scofield, Jim.“ he then said and turned his back to the bridge. „Mr. Spock. Please calculate when we’ll be able to transport again. Mrs. Uhura please inform me as soon as you’ve extracted some information from that last transmission.“

„Are you mad?“ you yelled over the howling storm, staring at the chief engineer standing there only in his uniform. „Oh ye really think that’s the right way to start this conversation, lass?“

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[imagineangryspacegrump-blog]

Beautiful

(I don’t know what I’m doing with all the cat’s :P Sorry, not sorry)

Prompt: Bones falls in love with an empowered curvy reader who never feels pressured and he loves her regardless of what others think

Warnings: Hurtful and crude comments

Word count: 1,178 (Short, I know, but I had no inspiration. I'll try to make it up in the next fic ;))

A/n: I don’t feel good about this fic quality wise, and please, don't hate on people who are different from you! :'( This blog is friendly to all people!

Damn him, he was at it again.

As of a few weeks ago, you had obtained a small pest that you had been trying to exterminate, but try as you will, he wouldn't give up.

Jacob Jones. A linguistic cadet that worked next to you on the bridge.

At first, you two never threw a second glance at each other, but Jacob soon found it entertaining to throw rude and depleting comments your way, most of which had to do with your slightly-curvier-than-most body figure.

It had always been something you had to deal with, but any hateful comment thrown your way was brushed off and never lowered your self-esteem. You had a confident aura about you that made most people instantly gravitate towards you. Add the confidence with your kind and playful attitude, and you've got a people magnet.

Most people did find you pleasant to be around, but there were still those choice few that couldn't put down their ego for one god damned second to be friends with a slightly larger person. Jacob included.

The comments he threw were never heard by anybody else, and you weren't planning on telling anyone about them either. Telling someone would make you seem weak and that was not something you wanted. And since he was just a chair away, it was easy for him to throw random comments into your everyday life.

These remarks never bothered you though. You didn't need some lower class child to tell you what you were and weren't.

"How long has it been since you've hit the gym, Y/n? You could definitely use it."

Keeping your expression neutral, you pressed a few buttons on your console. Without even looking at him, you answered.

"It's been years since you’ve showered but you haven't heard me complaining."

Jacob scowled at you and turned back to his console when the Captain looked your way. James Kirk had always had a soft spot for you, so Jacob knew if Jim found out about the comments he gave you, there would be hell to pay.

Jim on the other hand, had seen Jacob talk to you on multiple occasions, and had noticed your neutral expression in response and started to get suspicious. Usually, you would always respond to a comment with happiness or some kind of emotion at least, not neutrality. So, naturally, be often brought in his best attack dog, Bones.

Leonard had been harboring secret feelings for you that seemingly popped out of nowhere. The two of you hadn't casually talked before and knew little to nothing about each other. But just seeing your confidence and exotic personality instantly drew him to you.

When Jim told him about something suspicious going on between you and the cadet, he instantly hopped up and would often visit the bridge just to stand and watch as inconspicuously as possible. He was itching to hear the words being spoken between the two of you.

Just like the last few days, Leonard stood at Jim's side, talking sometimes but mostly just staying quiet, glancing at you every so often. Jacob was already on his daily round of insults.

"I think your thighs are bigger than my pillows."

You rolled your eyes. "Wow, look how many shits I give."

Whenever you gave him a smart remark back, he would always sit in silence for a few minutes to come up with something else.

Glancing back to make sure no one was watching, (which someone was but Jacob didn't notice) he leaned towards you.

"Your waist is as thick as a tree. If you want to be beautiful, you have to make your waist smaller."

"What, like your dick?"

He stood straight up; causing a lot of ruckus that turned a lot of eyes, Jim and Leonard's included.

Jacob expected some sort of scared response from you, but you only moved your chair from left to right with your foot, a smug smile on your face. You loved to push his buttons.

What you didn't expect though, was the fist headed right for your face. Your pupils dilated, and your face tensed up for the pain that was sure to come.

Definitely not expecting Jacob to shout out in pain, your eyes shot back open and stared in shock at the fist that was inches from your face and the new hand that was gripping said fist.

Looking up at your savior, you saw the CMO of the ship. Jaw tensed, and teeth grinding together as he tightly held Jacob's fist in his hand, holding on way too tightly.

Jacob was whimpering as he limply pawed at the Doctor's iron grip. If McCoy tightened his hand any more, he'd surely break the cadet's hand.

"Were you harassing this woman, cadet?" The doctor's voice was flat but had a hint of anger.

Jacob was too busy whining to answer. McCoy tugged Jacob forward and got nearly nose-to-nose with him, which made Jacob cower.

"I think the Captain needs to have a word with you."

All three of you looked over and saw Jim standing at the door of the bridge, hands behind his back and his mouth in a thin line. And did he look pissed.

Jacob's eyes widened and he gulped. Leonard finally released his hand, and gestured over to where Jim was standing. Knowing that he would just get in more trouble if he didn't go, Jacob shuffled forward to follow Jim out the door.

The entire room was silent and everyone was staring. When Leonard glanced around, everyone turned back to his or her consoles like nothing happened.

"You ok?" Leonard asked. You looked up at him and smiled.

You and the doctor barely knew each other and any conversations you had had were short and professional. No doubt, you had a tiny thing for him after seeing him everyday in the bridge.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for that."

He nodded and straightened up. "No one should hurt a lady. Not even an independent, strong lady like you who could've taken the hit. You're brave though, I'll give you that."

"You have to be. Especially up here. A lot of people you can't trust."

He didn't say anything but you could tell he agreed with you.

"On our next shore leave, why don't you join me for a drink? We can talk about what went down between you and that cadet. Whatever he was saying, wasn't true, I can promise you that."

You smiled. "Ok. It's a date. See you in a few." Turning back to your console, you pressed a few things, trying to hide your smile.

Leonard quirked a smile as well and walked out of the bridge to go find Jim.

You never did find out what happened to Jacob, but he never came back to his station. You also gained new friends, and a new boyfriend from the experience, so wins all around.

No one ever discriminated you about your weight again, especially when your grumpy guard dog was around.

Tags: @outside-the-government @feelmyroarrrr @hellhoundsandunicorns @captian-hannah-kirk 

[clubofinfo]

Expert: The warlords of history are still kicking our heads in, and no one, not our fathers, not our Gods, is coming to save us. — Journalist Ta-Nehisi Coates,We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy The U.S. Supreme Court has ruled: it will not hear the case of Young v. Borders. Despite the fact that a 26-year-old man was gunned down by police who banged on the wrong door at 1:30 am, failed to identify themselves as police, and then repeatedly shot and killed the innocent homeowner who answered the door while holding a gun in self-defense, the justices of the high court refused to intervene to address police misconduct. Although 26-year-old Andrew Scott committed no crime and never fired a single bullet or lifted his firearm against police, only to be gunned down by police who were investigating a speeding incident by engaging in a middle-of-the-night “knock and talk” in Scott’s apartment complex, the Supreme Court refused to balance the scales between justice and injustice. Despite the fact that police shot and killed nearly 1,000 people nationwide for the third year in a row (many of whom were unarmed, mentally ill, minors or were shot merely because militarized police who were armed to the hilt “feared” for their safety), the Supreme Court will not act to right the wrongs being meted out by the American police state. Although “knock-and-talk” policing has become a thinly veiled, warrantless—lethal—exercise by which citizens are coerced and intimidated into “talking” with heavily armed police who “knock” on their doors in the middle of the night, the Supreme Court will not make the government play by the rules of the Constitution. The lesson to be learned: the U.S. Supreme Court will not save us. No one is coming to save us: not the courts, not the legislatures, and not the president. According to journalist Michael Harriot: More people died from police violence in 2017 than the total number of U.S. soldiers killed in action around the globe (21). More people died at the hands of police in 2017 than the number of black people who were lynched in the worst year of Jim Crow (161 in 1892). Cops killed more Americans in 2017 than terrorists did (four). They killed more citizens than airplanes (13 deaths worldwide), mass shooters (428 deaths) and Chicago’s “top gang thugs” (675 Chicago homicides). Americans are dying at the hands of the police, and the U.S. government doesn’t care. In Kansas, a prank caller placed a fake 911 call (the tactic is referred to as “swatting”) that prompted a SWAT team to open fire on a 28-year-old unarmed man who had been spending a quiet evening at home with his family. The man was shot dead within moments of appearing outside his home, clearly confused to find his home surrounded by police on all sides, guns pointed in his direction, and orders being shouted at him. Thus far, all the blame has rested with the prank caller and little with the cops who shot first and asked questions later. In New York, a 68-year-old former Marine was shot and killed by police who did a welfare check on him after he accidentally set off his emergency medical alert device. Although Kenneth Chamberlain insisted he was fine, police refused to leave, eventually kicked open the door, zapping Chamberlain with a stun gun, shooting him with beanbag ammunition and then killing him with a pistol shot. The cops were not charged. In Arizona, a police officer was acquitted after he shot an unarmed man outside his hotel room while the man cried, begged and pleaded for his life. As the Associated Press reports: The shooting occurred in the Phoenix suburb of Mesa after officers ordered Shaver to exit his hotel room, lie face-down in a hallway and refrain from making sudden movements — or risk being shot. Shaver, 26, sobbed as he begged police not to shoot and was ordered to crawl toward officers. As he inched forward, he reached toward the waistband of his shorts. Brailsford said he fired his rifle because he believed Shaver was grabbing a handgun in his waistband. While no gun was found on Shaver’s body…the detective investigating the shooting had agreed Shaver’s movement was similar to reaching for a pistol, but has said it also looked as though Shaver was pulling up his loose-fitting basketball shorts that had fallen down as he was ordered to crawl toward officers. It gets worse. You see, it’s not just that the U.S. government appears unconcerned about the fact that Americans are dying at the hands of the police. Right now, the U.S. government is actively doing everything in its power to ensure that the killing spree continues. Take Jeff Sessions, for example. While the president’s conveniently-timed tweets distract the public and dominate the headlines, his attorney general continues to bulldoze over the Constitution, knocking down what scant protections remain between the citizenry and the hydra-headed police state. Within his first year as attorney general, Jeff Sessions has made a concerted effort to expand the police state’s power to search, strip, seize, raid, steal from, arrest and jail Americans for any infraction, no matter how insignificant. What this means is more militarized police, more asset forfeiture, more private prisons, more SWAT team raids, more police shootings of unarmed citizens, and more wars waged by the government against the American people. And while the crime rate may be falling, the death toll—casualties of the government’s war on the American people—is growing. The body count will continue to mount as long as the courts continue to march in lockstep with the police state, as long as police unions continue to strong-arm politicians into letting police agencies get away with murder, as long as legislators continue to care more about getting re-elected than about protecting the rights of the citizenry, as long as police continue to treat their fellow citizens as enemy combatants on a battlefield, as long as the media continues to focus the spotlight on circus politics, and as long as the citizenry fail to be alarmed and outraged every time the police state shoots another hole in the Constitution. Even so, it’s not just the police shootings that are cause for concern. We are inching ever closer to a constitutional crisis the likes of which we have never seen before, and “we the people” are woefully unprepared and ill-equipped to deal with a government that is corrupt, topsy turvy, unjust, immoral, illegal, brutal, violent, war-hungry, greedy, biased, imbalanced, unaccountable, non-transparent, fascist and as illegitimate as they come. Where do we go from here? We’ve been through troubled times before. In fact, it was 50 years ago this year, in 1968, when the country was buffeted by assassinations, riots and protests: The assassinations of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy. The riots that shook Washington, Chicago, Baltimore and other U.S. cities. Campus protests. Civil rights protests. Vietnam War protests. The Tet Offensive. The My Lai massacre. The rise of Richard Nixon and the retreat of Lyndon Johnson. Fifty years later, we’re no better off. The nation is still being buffeted by economic instability, racial inequality, injustice, police brutality, government misconduct and a rising discontent on the part of the populace. I can’t help but wonder what Martin Luther King Jr. would have to say to about his dream today. Certainly, the reality we must contend with is far different from King’s dream of a world without racism, militarism and materialism: America has become a ticking time bomb of racial unrest and injustice, police militarization, surveillance, government corruption and ineptitude, the blowback from a battlefield mindset and endless wars abroad, and a growing economic inequality between the haves and have nots. King himself—in life, a hard-talking, charismatic leader, voice of authority, and militant, nonviolent activist minister/peace warrior who staged sit-ins, boycotts and marches and lived through police attack dogs, water cannons and jail cells—has been so watered down in death that younger generations recognize his face but know very little about his message. Yet King had a lot to say that remains relevant to our day and age. “Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.” “Nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time — the need for mankind to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to violence and oppression.” “The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.” “We can no longer afford to worship the god of hate or bow before the altar of retaliation.” “We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked, and dejected with a lost opportunity. The tide in the affairs of men does not remain at flood — it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is adamant to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words, ‘Too late.’” We cannot afford to wait until it is “too late.” This is no time to stand silently on the sidelines. It’s a time for anger and reform. Most importantly, it’s a time for making ourselves heard. And there is no better time to act than the present. As Robert F. Kennedy reminded his listeners in a speech delivered at the University of Cape Town in 1966: Hand in hand with freedom of speech goes the power to be heard, to share in the decisions of government which shape men’s lives. Everything that makes man’s life worthwhile—family, work, education, a place to rear one’s children and a place to rest one’s head—all this depends on decisions of government; all can be swept away by a government which does not heed the demands of its people. What can ordinary citizens do? As I make clear in my book Battlefield America: The War on the American People, instead of sitting around and waiting for someone else to change things, take charge. Never discount the part that everyday citizens play in our nation’s future. You can change things, but there can be no action without education. Get educated about your rights and exercise them. Start by reading the Bill of Rights. You can do so online at www.rutherford.org. Or, if you want a copy to keep with you, email me at gro.drofrehturnull@ffats and I’ll send you a free one. Most important of all, just get out there and do your part to make sure that your government officials hear you. The best way to ensure that happens is by never giving up, never backing down, and never remaining silent. To quote Dr. King, “If you can’t fly, run; if you can’t run, walk; if you can’t walk, crawl, but by all means keep moving.” It doesn’t matter whether you’re protesting the economy, the war, the environment or something else altogether. What matters is that you do your part. As that great revolutionary firebrand Samuel Adams pointed out, “It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority keen to set brushfires in people’s minds.” Take some time right now and start your own brushfire for freedom. Learn about the issues and then take a stand: attend local government meetings, contact your representatives, raise awareness within your community, and generally make your voice heard. It’s midnight in America right now. But the real question is, will there be a dawn? That’s up to you and me. The future is in our hands. http://clubof.info/