Pʀɪᴍᴜᴍ ɴᴏɴ ɴᴏᴄᴇʀᴇ.

Independent TOS/AOS Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy.Written by Jay.

[thepathlesstrekked]

Headcanon: People tend to think that Bones is the level headed one because he isn’t getting into fights or starting intergalactic incidents, but when it really comes down to it Jim is usually the one grabbing Bones’ hand and telling him to just keep moving Bones don’t get in an argument with him yes I know he’s an idiot, but he’s also the admiral.

[florescit]

I was a hero / Early in the morning // I ain’t no hero / In the night

[brokenmoonsongs]

Star Trek Beyond Searching

[demonicvulcan]

Spot the differences:

[twofacedjanus]

Jim Kirk is a giant nerd that quotes Shakespeare and reads Charles Dickens for fun and nothing can convince me otherwise

Imagine Jim writing shakespearean love poetry for Bones and Bones is so floored by the beautiful (and deceptively bawdy) poetry Jim writes

[kirknspock]

[shoresleave]

[thepathlesstrekked]

After Jim wakes up he still spends most of his time sleeping. Bones knows that this is part of his recovery, that there’s no way to really gage what his body had to go through and that it is going to take a long time for Jim to get back to where he was. He knows this, but seeing Jim still and quiet still scares the ever-loving-shit out of him. 

So he spends his nights laying next to Jim, a hand on his chest to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soft continual beat of his heart.

And while Jim never says anything, they both know it helps Jim sleep knowing that Bones is there making sure.

[tulipjeanohare]

Bones to everyone on the USS Enterprise:

[thors]

[selene-morningstar]

[pinefinemine]

[todonoharm-blog]

@walksxinxbeauty

     “Always liked these.” Strong, gentle fingers brushing idly along the trail of little stars inked into her skin, ribs to waist to the smooth curve of her hip, beautiful in their stylized simplicity. People tended to assume that he’d think body modification was unnecessary and barbaric, but truth be told, that had never been the case. Tattoos, in particular, he found beautiful: anything with so much meaning that you were willing to permanently alter your body to commemorate it had to be (the product of the occasional drunken mistake notwithstanding), and Nyota Uhura’s were particularly appealing - small, subtle things for him to discover through exploration, all tasteful and with visible meaning, but also the sense of a story he might just be lucky enough to earn if he asked. 

     “Never felt right to ask about something you get a peek at in the line of duty, though.” But this wasn’t one of those times. Christine had ratted him out the moment he had some real free time - he was fully convinced the two of them were in cahoots - and they’d decided to have dinner in Nyota’s quarters that night. He’d brought the drinks, of course, and eating and drinking had turned into talking had turned into her mouth on his and his back pressed into her couch, wandering hands and lazy, thorough exploration. Theirs was a part of this odd quadrumvirate they’d fallen into that hadn’t had as much time to develop and grow, and there was still a sense of exciting newness to it - and, at his age anyway, a drive to take one’s time, to draw out the thrill of discovering something you hadn’t known before, to see what they might find. 

     And so far? So far it was very, very good. There was a calm here he knew he and Jim could never quite manage to achieve, a sense that it was okay to take things at half-pace for awhile, to enjoy the quiet inbetweens rather than spend them waiting for the next rush. It was something he hadn’t quite realized he’d been missing until someone was offering it to him, and he didn’t feel inclined to say no. 

[jonathanohhey]

[treksource]

New stills from Star Trek Beyond

[goesboldly]

First, do no harm.

[mangopuffs]

Sleepy, post-mission McKirk though.

Jim who always burns his way through missions on shots of caffeine and adrenaline and crashes for three days afterwards in Bones’ bed. Never his own, because the sheets are washed too constantly and the only way he can relax is surrounded by Bones’ scent, wrapped up in his sheets and face pressed into his pillow. 

“You know where my aftershave is,” Bones always tells him. “Just take that.” But it’s not the same, because Jim’s tried, and he doesn’t think Bones even means it, because two times out of three, he’ll fall asleep alone and wake with six feet of doctor wrapped around him.