#about kirk

[obaewankenope]

typing up part of my fic that i've written

i'll get this damn fic done by some time next year

[andragonyremade-blog]

You work alpha shift the day before New Years on Earth, which means you have the whole evening to yourself, and at 1700 hours you're in the mess with a plate piled with turkey and gravy and two biscuits smothered in butter. It's all replicated, of course, but it's hot and it tastes alright and you find yourself enjoying it as if it's real food.

Although, it might be that you already had a glass of very real wine after your shift, and you might be a little bit drunk. But you prefer to think your good mood is more closely connected to holiday spirit. 

[andragonyremade-blog]

 She lifts her head and rests her chin on your shoulder, and you can feel her trying to steady her breathing. “I was so afraid,” she whispers. “Jim, I'm sorry. I was just so scared.”

“I know,” you say, and hold her as tightly as you can.

this is actually not where this scene was supposed to go but??? ok

[andragonyremade-blog]

At least you aren't the only one who's tired. Bones was practically drooling on your shoulder on the shuttle, which you wouldn't have guessed was even possible. He doesn't look much better than you feel – tired eyes and shadowed cheeks and an expression on his face like someone yanked the floor out from under his feet.

You're starting to feel like someone yanked the floor out from under your feet, too.

In all the noise and confusion and the buzzing of exhaustion in your head, you don't actually notice someone is calling your name until Bones hits you in the shoulder. You look up, half-annoyed, but it calls you back to reality for long enough to hear it again.

“Huh?” you mumble, and turn to look for whoever is calling you. A moment later, you see her, pushing her way through the crowd around the shuttles, and your jaw drops.

“Jim!” she shouts again, waving, and then she's running towards you and her arms are around you and she's shaking, half-sobbing into your shoulder. “Thank God,” she says, her voice choked. “Thank God you're safe.”

For a minute you don't know how to react, because you haven't spoken to your mom since you joined the Academy and the last thing you expected was for her to greet you like this. “I'm okay, Mom,” you manage finally, and hug her back. “I'm okay, I'm safe. It's okay.”