#captainsbones

[captainkirkmccoy]

Whumptober, Day 11 “Hypothermia”

“Jim?”

“Yeah, Bones?”

“I’m c-cold.”

“I know.” Jim nestled closer and prayed, pleaded, to any of the powers that be  for the signal to come through and for them to be transported onto the ship already. It had been four hours since he heard from anyone. Three hours since his comm shut down completely.

He’d been warned, of course, that going down to the surface of Luxper might be a one-way-trip, that it was too risky to beam to a planet with signal interference when there was no way of knowing if Bones was alive.

“You s-shouldn’t have c-ccome.” Bones said, as if he snatched the thought out of Jim’s head.

“Shh.” Jim pressed closer as a gust of biting wind slammed into his back. Luxper had no structures or shelter. They had been holding Bones in the middle of a field and they disintegrated when Jim showed up, phaser pointed, ready to call backup.

They wouldn’t last too much longer this way. Jim wasn’t freezing yet but he would be--he had given Bones every piece of clothing he could and on top of that the heat blankets he’d found in the medical pack M’Benga had given him before he transported down. 

“You remember my survival eval?” Jim asked, rubbing his hands down the crinkly surface of the heat blanket that was wrapped around Bones like a burrito. 

“‘Course I do. Idiot.” Bones said, sounding more like himself since Jim landed here.

Jim couldn’t help but grin. They’d both managed to skirt disaster for three years at the Academy, despite the odds of them washing out stacked damn high against them and the near misses of Jim getting caught with some of his less reputable antics. All it took was a dumbass instructor who should have been in the academy himself and Bones mean streak of a protective instinct to get them both on suspension. 

“Reminds me of this.” Jim said. “Though we got bailed out pretty quickly.”

“Barely. You nearly lost a foot.” 

“You’re being dramatic. Only woulda been a few toes.” Jim remembered Bones slapping him awake, first bullying him, then cajoling, then begging. Both their lips had turned blue and Jim had been blessedly warm when rescue came. 

“Thanks to me.” Bones coughed. 

“So there’s no one else I’d wanna stay frozen too.” Jim said. “Again.”

Jim lost some skin and it took two weeks to fix. But Bones had lost more and still had scars on his shoulder from where they were stuck together. Jim spent a lot of time kissing those marks. 

“What’d you say to me then, Bones?” 

“For every few minutes I stay awake, I’d tell you something.” 

“Tease.”

It was the first time Bones had told him he loved him. When he woke up under unforgiving Medbay lights he thought he’d dreamt it in a hypothermic hallucination. 

But then Bones had kissed him in their quarters when he was released from the hospital (he’d discharged himself against orders early). 

“Hey, Bones?”

“Yeah?”

“For every few minutes you stay awake, I’ll ask you something?”

Bones shuddered. “That right?”

It was an unconventional way to propose but Jim figured they were unconventional anyway. 

[gallusrostromegalus]

hi gallus, i was wondering if you knew of any indoor plants that prefer shade, are cat safe and wont die if i don't pamper them 24/7? im looking to brighten up my room but my window is on the west side and doesnt get a lot of full light bc of trees and things. thanks!

All of these are great, but for a “dark, negracted and probably dehydrated” I’d reccomend the Cast-Iron plant for it’s diffculty to kill.  Spider plants aren’t quite as immortal, but very hardy, do a good job cleaning the air and make great kitty toys (lots of very battable leaves)

[perenial]

culmets with that hot chocolate coffee shop au

oh WORM i almost forgot i had this

i love hot chocolate So Much but it’s embarrassing to be the adult ordering hot chocolate at a coffee shop, so do you think you could announce that it’s a different drink when you’re giving it to me??

Of all the weird customers he’s had through these doors, Paul has to be the strangest. Hugh’s only been working at the shuttle bay’s dingy little cafe for two months but this is something he knows for certain: the cute neurotic blonde who catches the six o’clock San Francisco-Chicago link every Sunday morning is probably one of the weirdest people Starfleet has ever spat out. He wears his uniform everywhere, reads actual paper books, and, without fail, asks Hugh to call out his small hot chocolate with extra marshmallows as a triple-shot Americano every time he pays a visit.

And because he’s an idiot, Hugh is totally enamoured with him.

It’s not his fault, Hugh reasons - it’s just that Paul (Lieutenant Paul Stamets, according to the sneaky glance Hugh took once at his open PADD) happens to be there at the beginning of his shift, when he’s still half-asleep and fantasising about curling up in bed with a warm body. Paul certainly looks warm. Not that Hugh has imagined sleeping with him, or anything. His feelings towards his strange self-conscious regular are firmly in the realm of daydreams.

It’s not as if this morning is any different. Paul shuffles in at five thirty exactly and makes a beeline for the register, eyes hooded and hands raised to stifle a yawn. “Small hot chocolate but call it as a latte for Paul,” he says in one breath, entirely monotone. He sounds the same as every customer Hugh gets at this time of day, and yet - God, there’s something so endearing about the rough edge to his voice, like he’s just woken up and stumbled to the shuttle bay, to Hugh, out of pure impulse. To make things worse, it looks like he hadn’t bothered to run a comb through his hair, so the most adorable little cowlick is sticking up at his crown, catching the fluorescent light above them.

Hugh’s hands hover over the register. Fuck it, he thinks, and takes a step back.

“So why do you always ask for me to call it out as a coffee?” he asks, turning to the machine to start making the drink. Usually he’d just plug the order into their automated program but steaming the milk himself allows him an excuse to talk.

Paul blinks slowly. “Uh,” he starts, glancing around the shop. They’re alone; not even Hugh’s co-workers get here this early. “Because?”

“Because what?”

“Look, is this really any of your business?” Paul snaps. Hugh smirks a little.

“Just curious.” He twists the steamer on, the sharp hiss startling Paul. “Do you think someone’s going to judge you or something?”

He must have hit a nerve, because Paul scowls. “No,” he mutters, “I’d just prefer it if you didn’t go around yelling my order, that’s all.”

“I think it’s cute,” Hugh says. “Very...sweet.”

Paul rolls his eyes. “I’m not sweet,” he insists, fingers tapping nervously against his thigh. Hugh turns off the steamer and taps the jug, watching the crema settle to avoid laughing at Paul’s indignant expression.

“Mm-hmm. You’re real bitter, buddy.”

“Don’t call me ‘buddy’.”

Hugh smirks. “What would you prefer?” he asks without looking up, “Baby?”

The sound that erupts from Paul can only be described as a squeak. He starts to splutter, desperately grabbing sentences out of the air, while Hugh pours the milk. By the time the takeaway lid is secured, Paul manages to make out something coherent: “Excuse me?”

Hugh shrugs, pushing the cup across the countertop. “Go on a date with me.”

Paul blinks. Then blinks again, because clearly he wasn’t listening the first time. “You - really?”

“Yes, really. You’re cute.”

Paul squints at him for a moment. “Yeah, sure,” he eventually scoffs, “and then you laugh with your friends about how gullible I am? No thanks. I know your type.”

“My type?” Hugh leans back like he’s been punched in the gut. “Paul, I’d never -”

“Look,” Paul amends, waving a hand about, “I get it. It’s funny to mess around with people like me, but I’m sick of it, and -”

“Paul.”

“- I don’t want to make things weird, okay, you make good hot chocolate and this is the only cafe in terminal three -”

“Paul!”

“What?”

Hugh pushes the hot chocolate across the counter. “That’s not me,” he says sternly, “I’m trying to hit on you because you’re cute. That’s all.”

Paul glances between Hugh and the cup, uncertain. There’s a whole goddamn debate warring over his expression, veering from indignation to defeat faster than Hugh can keep track of. Finally, with a deep inhale, Paul snatches the cup.

“You’re hitting on me.” It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

“You think I’m cute.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not one of those assholes who asks losers out for fun.”

“No.”

Another breath. “Well,” Paul says slowly, his cheeks pink, “uh. Hi?”

Hugh laughs. “Hi.” He extends a hand. “I’m Hugh.”

“Paul, but you knew that,” comes the reply, Paul’s warm hand slipping into his grasp. He’s still blushing and Hugh can’t help but fall in love with him a little more. “I kinda fucked that up, didn’t I?”

“Kind of,” Hugh says, smiling, “But I’m willing to take a second chance.”

[beholdingslut]

'my confidence is not arrogance'

my confidence is not arrogance — valnisa d’oslora

one of the first things i ever pinned to a concept board for valnisa was a lyric from the last shadow puppets: innocence and arrogance entwined, which is exactly it. she’s too young and her experiences are too narrow to realise that the way she’s had to fight tooth and nail to get through comes off as haughty and above people. true confidence terrifies her, it’s not something she’s familiar with. but as she slowly learns to be a bard, hopefully a great bard, she learns not to doubt herself. that she can possess incredible skill and be aware of that, know when to use it, when to champion herself, and that’s confidence, not arrogance. 

[asokatanos]

@captainsbones replied to your post: amnswer my ask u heathen is it bc i didnt pick...

one of those boxes that spring out a boxing glove

YES EXACTLY. like a jack in the box! except with a punch.

you hear that tika!

[ekjohnston]

who is ur fave star trek character from the whole franchise?

B’Elanna.

No, wait. It’s Kira.

Or...maybe Kassidy Yates???

[asokatanos]

@captainsbones replied to your photoset: I dressed like a human being for the first time in...

pfhdhddhdhs what were u dressing like before, an alien?

I Am An Eldritch Creature Of The Deep, IJ

[beholdingslut]

shortland street is weird bc even if you've never watched it it is always There to some degree. an article in some hidden corner of the herald. your favourite kiwi actor was in it. (as was that other kiwi. and the other one). two complete strangers bond by agonizing over a character's motives. you wonder if shortland street has an exit or if we are all trapped in soap opera hell until the volcanic field under auckland rises up and wipes us all from this miserable existence

new zealand gothic