I see nothing worse than to sail this universe without you; an emotional McKirk fanmix for Hillary.

i. storm lifehouse; ii. we are broken paramore, iii. wonderwall oasis; iv. brothers on a hotel bed death cab for cutie; v. people help the people birdy; vi. fix you secondhade serenade; vii. interlude 2 alt-j; viii. oh my stars andrew belle; ix. more than friends gabrielle aplin; x. we are stars the pierces

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(via boldlymckirking-deactivated2014)

no-no-win-scenarios said: Jim never thought he'd go to Khan - of all people! - for help. Out of fear. Or at all... But here he is. He's limping to Khan's cell, burning from head to toe, with eyes squinting against the bright lights. Unfortunately, if anyone could help him... It had to be a killer. "Khan?"

72-reasons:

72-reasons:

Why they even bothered to keep him locked away he couldn’t be sure. Yet it came as no less of a surprise to him when the Captain himself stumbled in, in what appeared to be a stupor of some sort. Not bothering to rise from his seat, he kept his gaze on the man as he tumbled in. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?”

Khan chuckled morosely, folding his hands in his lap as he tucked his legs up to cross beneath him. The man before him had no more decorum himself. There was little point in maintaining airs when there were none left between them.

"You either sedate yourself now and get it over with now, or you run the risk of commanding while you are unfit to do so," he intoned. "If anyone not terribly fond of you should get a hold of you during that time, you could well have your doom at hand."


Jim gave a one-shouldered shrug and gulped thickly.  A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I’ll take my chances."  He grunted hazily, eyes clamped against the bright light of the cellblock.  "I took my chances coming down here…  As of right now, you’re the only guy who’s got it out for me.  At least, that I know of."

no-no-win-scenarios said: So if you're Scottish... Why don't you have a kilt?

getoffthere:

That’s a bit of a prejudice, Captain. Why does a man ‘ave t’ own a kilt jist on account a’ he’s Scottish?

         Tha’ bein’ said, I do ‘ave one, an’ I don’ wear it because it’s formal, an’ because it’s not safe in engineerin’.

Y’implied all Scots ‘ave kilts, sir, which ain’t necessarily so. I was jus’ teasin’ ya.

image

I ‘ope y’mean senior officer, captain- I ‘aven’t even ‘it forty yet!


Oh no, Scotty…  I would never imply that you were any less spry than the youngest of us.

You’re thirty-nine.  And you’ll be thirty-nine for the next ten years.

anaeolist:

you little fucker

(via softcaswarmcas)

no-no-win-scenarios said: So if you're Scottish... Why don't you have a kilt?

getoffthere:

That’s a bit of a prejudice, Captain. Why does a man ‘ave t’ own a kilt jist on account a’ he’s Scottish?

         Tha’ bein’ said, I do ‘ave one, an’ I don’ wear it because it’s formal, an’ because it’s not safe in engineerin’.

Well…  It would’ve been disappointing if the only Scottish senior didn’t have a kilt! 

How is that prejudice?  I was just asking.

spicyshimmy:

when people are like ‘you see homosexual subtext in everything you’re stretching ugh!!!!! you have an agenda!!!!’ and you’re just standing there like

image

(via scientiadryadalis-deactivated20)

no-no-win-scenarios said: Jim looked up at his friend in wonder from where he lay on the bed. Was this the real Bones? He had seen "Bones" plenty of times when he was stuck down in that cave, but he could never touch him. Or his voice never sounded right. Or his face was all blurry. Or he was standing out of Jim's reach. This Bones looked /there/. All there. But when Jim reached up, his arms didn't come. "Bones? Bones! It' me..." He pleaded. "It's Jim."

feeling-in-my-bones:

feeling-in-my-bones:

Jim.”  His voice sounded relieved as he crossed the room to stand by the biobed.  ”Christ, kid.  I thought we’d lost you.  What the hell happened?”

He was immediately on his feet, one hand on Jim’s shoulder while the other fiddled with the restraints.  ”Jim, you’re alright,” he said, voice firm.  ”You’re safe now.”

He unclipped the restraints, drawing back just a little to give Jim some space.


As soon as he was free of the restraints, he pivoted up off of the bed at a dizzying pace and collided with Bones’ chest.  He latched on to Bones like a vice, cheek pressed firmly over his pectoral.  He was so relieved…  So relieved that he didn’t completely fall through Bones like he did all those times before.  Like smoke.  So relieved he could cry.  And he did.

"I missed you, Bones."  He told him, lip quivering.  Even though I saw you everyday.  "I missed you."

no-no-win-scenarios said: Jim never thought he'd go to Khan - of all people! - for help. Out of fear. Or at all... But here he is. He's limping to Khan's cell, burning from head to toe, with eyes squinting against the bright lights. Unfortunately, if anyone could help him... It had to be a killer. "Khan?"

72-reasons:

72-reasons:

Why they even bothered to keep him locked away he couldn’t be sure. Yet it came as no less of a surprise to him when the Captain himself stumbled in, in what appeared to be a stupor of some sort. Not bothering to rise from his seat, he kept his gaze on the man as he tumbled in. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?”

For all appearances, Kirk did look on death’s door. Though Khan knew there was no chance that the man would die while his blood was in play, it was due to be quite unpleasant. In spite of that, he didn’t pity the man for his pain. The blood had been taken without permission, and its effects were not his directed doing.

"When you’re purified," he stated blandly, letting a light smirk pull at his face. Even if it wasn’t genuine mirth, it was at least something of the kind. "This would be easier on you if you sedated yourself for a few days."


"Haha."  Jim wheezed sarcastically. "You’re fucking hilarious."

He leaned his head against the wall exhaustedly.  A sheen of sweat had settled dewy on his skin, making him itchy all over.  No matter how much he stretched or whichever way he twisted, he never felt comfortable.  Sleeping had been a bitch the last couple of days.

"I can’t sedate myself…  I got a ship to run!"

endcas:

slutstiels:

noisy bottoms (✿ ♥‿♥)

i thought you meant farts for like a solid 10 minutes

(via softcaswarmcas)

no-no-win-scenarios said: Jim looked up at his friend in wonder from where he lay on the bed. Was this the real Bones? He had seen "Bones" plenty of times when he was stuck down in that cave, but he could never touch him. Or his voice never sounded right. Or his face was all blurry. Or he was standing out of Jim's reach. This Bones looked /there/. All there. But when Jim reached up, his arms didn't come. "Bones? Bones! It' me..." He pleaded. "It's Jim."

feeling-in-my-bones:

Jim.”  His voice sounded relieved as he crossed the room to stand by the biobed.  ”Christ, kid.  I thought we’d lost you.  What the hell happened?”

"Bones…"  Was the only thing Jim could.  What a relief it was to be back in a biobed.  To hear Bones’ rough draw  Raw and organic, not tampered by failing memory or illusion.  He tried to reach out and touch.  He wanted to feel that Bones was actually there, but his arms were strapped firmly to the bed.

"Bones!  Help!"  He beckoned, voice spiked with panic.



James T. Kirk. Captain of the USS Enterprise. At your service!
--------------------
(Open to OCs. Tracking tag "nonowinscenarios". Current m!a: none.)

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