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dysphorie · 4 years

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The Slipknot Incident

Anon, I’m an idiot and tunglr is a functioning website, so I lost your ask while trying to edit shit SO it was just easier to write this up. I doubt many people want to know, and I don’t blame them. It probably wouldn’t seem like a big deal to someone it didn’t happen to! And maybe I should just still be keeping it to myself, because who cares! Amirite? But no. I’ve decided that I want to write it all out for ME. So. Very long post ahead and I’m sorry about that but you need to know EVERYTHING for it all to really make sense.

So, flashback to 1999. I'm 15-turning 16. I have this boyfriend, kirk. He's obsessed with kurt cobain and everything grunge, and uses this to belittle the fact I like all kinds of music, particularly heavy stuff.

He was also an abusive cunt. Verbally and physically. Very controlling, HATED it if i went in the mosh pit (which I L O V E D, and glasgow moshpits are legendarily rough) because "that's not what girls do. And i know this is wrong, and he's wrong, and I shouldn’t put up with it, but I do! Cos I'm 16 and "in love"!

I also have two big sisters, one of which is...a handful. Very dramatic, very argumentative, and very good at getting people to take her side (steeeeeeff you've got to let her take xyz of your things, she has a baaaaaaaaybeee!) We get on amazingly NOW, but then not so much.

So, fastforward to Feb 2000. Slipknot are playing at glasgow barrowlands, my favourite venue ever, and slipknot were already my favourite band (s/t had hit, the world went wild). And I managed to get two tickets!! So kirk tells me in no uncertain terms that I've to give one to his little sister, nicky, who is a year younger than me. I'm like um ok sure, cos i hadn't planned who i was going with yet, my mum just got two tickets just in case. So I say i will, and that's that.

But oh no it isn’t. because my aforementioned sisters birthday is at the end of Feb! And my family are like, you’re giving her the other ticket, right? And no amount of no, I already promised it to Nicky would suffice. Because SHE’S YOUR SISTER AND SHE NEVER GETS TO DO ANYTHING COS SHE HAS A BAAAAAYBEEEEEEE. She didn’t, and doesn’t like Slipknot or either of the support act (Kittie and, thankfully, my good pals One Minute Silence who I’ve seen more times than I’ve had hot dinners)

So I explain this to Kirk, sitting in his room one day. He. Goes. B a l l i s t i c. I’ll miss the details but he explains that I WILL find a way for Nicky to go to this sold-out gig and, actually, him too while I’m at it. Because I have a reputation for being able to blag onto guest lists, it shouldn’t be too hard, right? So ofc I’m scared and promise I will.

The day or so before the gig, Slipknot did a signing in a Virgin Megastore that had recently opened. My friends and I were so excited, we were there from crazy early in the morning to get stuff signed (there ARE photos somewhere in the ether, who knows where, not me). But I’m also terrified Kirk’s gonna find out I’m there, cos he didn’t want me to go. That’s it. We had no idea what the band looked like yet so it wasn’t that kind of jealousy. But anyway...

The signing was great. Got my shit signed, Sid and Chris were weird assholes cos that was their schtick, Jim and Mick gave me the best cuddles, CRAIG SPOKE TO ME cos I have him a wee pin badge and he mumbled “No one ever gives me anything...”, and I gave Joey and Corey nailpolish. Joey looked terrified, Corey was incredibly thankful, and pulled me in for a hug. That he wouldn’t let me out of (not in a forceful way, just in a heeeeey lady let me hug on you for a while) and I’m like uh *panics in 16 not that he knows that cos tattoos and piercings and huuuuuuge boobs* and he says some very suggestive things and my friend said aye she’s into all that freaky shit too and I’m dying inside. Offers were made, I said uh lol maybe bye, and go home on cloud nine.

Until my friend who spoke to Corey tells Kirk what happened. Thankfully I wasn’t gonna see him until nearly door opening gig time, but the phonecall we had was...unpleasant.

So it’s the day of the gig, I go to Glasgow stupid early to meet the OMS boys and beg and plead for them to put Kirk and his sister on the guest list. And they do! Because I cry and tell them everything and I have to make their singer promise not to wait outside and beat him up. I could tell you what I was wearing: a deftones baseball ringer I lost my birginity in, baggies, and a powerpuff girls hoodie. My hair was blonde and green. I was wearing my favourite converse that Kirk hates because they were All-Stars, not One-Stars. And Corey wore All-Stars, was I wearing them because HE wore them?

My sister turns up before the doors open. I’m at the front of the queue cos I want to be down the front. My sister and Kirk are both like lol no, because YOU need to look after your sister (who is 24 to my 16 at this point) because she’s tiny and I go to more gigs, and Kirk doesn’t want me anywhere near the front or the pit. Doesn’t want me to corrupt his sister. But she begs me to take her in the pit for “Spit It Out” and I promise I will.

OMS are incredible, Kittie were ok, Talena tried to crowdsurf and got dropped. I turned around to talk to my sister about it and she was...gone. I checked the bar. Nothing. The toilets. Nada. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck we’re supposed to get the last train home together, I HAVE to find her. Slipknot come on. We’re standing up the back near the bar, and he has a deathgrip on my wrist so I don’t run off. Then I think I see my sister!! I beg to go to her, he lets me go, but I can’t find her, then I can’t find my way back to him. By the time I do, he accuses me of finding and kissing my friend Mark (my best friend who I’d actually recently fallen out with and hadn’t spoken to in months and only knew he was at the gig cos I saw him at the signing. I didn’t see him at the gig). I don’t find my sister.

Kirk decides it’s time to go, so literally drags us away. As we’re nearly out the crowd, “Spit It Out” starts, and I rip my arm away from him and grab his sister, tell him FUCK YOU, WE’RE DOING THIS. So we do. For about...a minute or so. Then something grips my right wrist so hard and so tight I thought it was going to crumble. I literally trip over my feet as he drags me back out the crowd and out of the ballroom.

Now the Barrowlands has a set of couches just outside the main hall, it’s a popular meeting place, so I pulled away again there and said NO, I have to wait for my sister, I’ll see him later, he can go home. Furiously he stomps away. So I sit and wait. And wait. And wait. The entire venue empties and my sister is nowhere to be seen. Turns out she left just as Slipknot started and went home, and yes I got in trouble for that despite the fact she fucked off. The venue staff need me to leave. I’ve missed the last train, I don’t know what I’m going to do. So I walk outside thinking maybe I’ll see a friend I can stay with.

And there’s Kirk and Nicky. Standing by their dad’s car. Hey come stay with me, I didn’t want to go til I knew you were ok, he says, sweet as pie. We get home, everyone goes to bed.

Where he put self-titled on repeat, very low on his stereo, and proceeded to do some of the most horrific things that have every happened to me in my life, over the course of basically the entire night. I’m going to stay non-specific, but if you can imagine it, it probably happened. Including yes, what you’re definitely thinking of now. And he told me it was all my fault. Because I was weak and couldn’t say no. Because I was a slut who’d catch something by fucking a guy in a band just to say I’d fucked someone in a band. That he’d make sure Corey wouldn’t want me if I ever met him again. That it was my fault for talking to another, older man. I was getting what I deserved. He plugged his big fancy headphones into the stereo and made me listen to my favourite tracks over and over and over during some of it, and I didn’t dare make a noise because if his parents found out, if anyone found out, he’d kill me. And I believed him, because he kept a bolt gun in his bedside drawer, liked to pretend he was going to shoot himself with it it upset me and make me beg him not to. He said he’d make me do it to myself maybe, to keep his hands clean. I believed every word.

I went home the next day packed with toilet tissue that I had to clench to keep in place because my underwear had been ripped, not that it mattered because it was covered in blood anyway. When I got home I got a bollocking and grounded because of the shit with my sister. She remembers none of it, but she’ll still insist it was probably my fault she left.

When I saw that Slipknot weren’t playing “Spit It Out” in January I literally cried tears of relief. It took me a long time to be able to listen to Slipknot again, and when I did I was made fun of for liking them, which made healing harder because I was just trying to reclaim this thing that had given me such comfort in the past. So I’ve always kinda kept my love of them to myself.

But when I hear “Spit It Out”, I feel his fingers close around my wrist. I feel the bones click and roll. And normally I can turn the song off if I’m having a bad day, but I couldn’t exactly do that live. That’s a huge part of why I feel me like, reclaiming Slipknot this past year was just...meant to happen. It was nearly 20 years to the day, I bought the tickets with MY money and was going MYSELF for MYSELF, they weren’t playing a song that I might have a fucking breakdown to. I met amazing people. I did EVERYTHING on MY terms.

Honestly I’ll never be healed of it. Duh. But I can talk about it now because I’ve had closure. I took back what was taken from me. Can’t make up for the missed gigs taken from me and the like but meh, that’s nothing compared to what it’s given me.

#long post #trigger warning: just fucking everything #the slipknot trauma story #don't lose

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ronon-dex · 3 years

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hi! i love your blog! can you tell me a little bit about how you feel about dean (sr, not jr)? it's so nice to see someone who loves both brothers, i've been seeing so much hate and it makes me feel so sad for j2 especially

hi anon, thank you for that. I've been pretty down over the past few days, because social media spaces have become extremely toxic. If it's bad for a fan though, I'm sure it's awful for jared and jensen. I hope they're busy with their new jobs and kids and won't see all the negativity.

so. dean senior. love that we're calling him that now, by the way! I have more complicated feelings than most about dean, since I'm such a hardcore sam fan (so fair warning!), but as I've said before - you can't love one brother without at least liking the other. sam and dean are each other's priority, so if you adore dean but hate sam, for example, you have fundamentally misunderstood dean's character.

dean is interesting. he is. his progression in the early seasons from this funny, sweet, cautious, and eminently protective young guy to a self-loathing, resentful, and harsh killing machine in the later seasons is fascinating character development. i love the continuity of it (which is something spn doesn't usually do well). consider that dean spent the first 28 years of his life taking care of a little brother he adored and a father he worshipped, saving people and hunting things (important distinction). he also spent these years trying to keep his family alive and together, all while being kept on the fringes of society due to his father's obsession. so his father dies to save him, and his guilt is crippling. his brother dies due to his perceived negligence and it's unbearable. he is not only a failure, he is the last member of an extinct species. he is in a state that dean winchester the man has never been able to survive: he is alone. so he sells his soul gladly, and then reaps the consequences when he's sent to hell. and hell (like for sam) changed dean on a foundational level.

in hell he becomes a monster. we don't discuss this much as a fandom because uwu dean or whatever, but dean canonically spent a decade doing nothing but viciously tearing human souls apart in a place designed to turn people insane with agony. I don't blame him for that, since he was under coercion, but it's something a former hero like dean would obsess over. every demon went through what dean did. it's ironic, then, that he comes out of hell and almost immediately starts treating sam like he's different, suspecting him of deviancy for departing the norm of their trade by using his supernatural abilities to save lives. this image he's preserved of his wholesome baby brother is interrupted, and he has to reevaluate himself, what he died for. in s4 he is 44 years older than his brother, his brother who seems to think dean is weak, and stupid, and untrustworthy. dean knows demons, knows ruby's kind more intimately than he will ever be able to admit, and he probably gets to thinking that if he focuses all this rage and disgust on sam, on ruby, he can avoid dealing with his own actions and traumatic experiences. we know the outcome of this. for years sam is blamed for the apocalypse, sam is abandoned to torment, sam gets diminished and beaten down until he's sobbing in a church begging for suicide rather than face dean's disappointment. it becomes clear that dean's flashbang youthful temper has transitioned to a thousand cold, hateful grudges: for sam, his father, his mother, castiel, jack, god, and so on, grudges he'll whip out when he's feeling cornered or irritated. he's prone to beating his loved ones, to lying to them. he violated his brother's autonomy in the same way as lucifer, the individual who tortured sam so badly and in such reprehensible ways that it broke sam's mind. he manipulated his brother into staying with him against his will, and in doing so fulfils his most basic wish, the wish he's had since he was a child - certainty that he will never, ever be alone again.

I'm being rough, I know. hut here's the thing. I still love the guy. why? truthfully, it's because underneath the hard shell that hell made around him, there's an aperture in it that's sam shaped, and a softness that only sam can bring out. I love that he loves sam so much he'd destroy himself and anyone else to save him. I love that he has such a twisted perception of family that he goes to extremes to keep himself and sam together. I love that being a hero is his day job, and I love that that means he doesn't give up, that he always has to find a loophole, a solution, something that will turn their luck and make the world better. he can still be caring, and nurturing, and funny and protective and sweet. even when he's not, when he's an asshole, he's our asshole. (and I haven't had a chance to express this with everything going on, but I am actually sad that he didn't get his own long life. I think he deserved a construction job and a porch and a dog, and for his memories of hell to stay just that- memories.)

dean winchester pushed his pain outward, whereas sam pushed his inward, so I'm always going to relate to the latter more. but dean is in his heart a protector, a captain kirk-esque man of passion that contrasts wonderfully with sam's logic. I wouldn't have the show be without him.

#sorry if this is more critical that you were looking for anon #i do love him #crazy bastard ❤#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural

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dolamrothianlady · 5 years

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Aria, aria I've been wondering... Do you think AOS Bones had daughter? I've read in few fanfics he did but the memory-alpha page says he only had ex-spouse named Pamela. I mean, I get it in TOS he has one and most ff writers refer to it.. still, I'm curious o.O (I'm new in the fandom and still in middle of binge watching all of ST series but I wanna know :'''D)

Hello hello anon! :D

First off welcome to the fandom, lovely to have you here – feel free to message me anytime about anything you little heart desires :)

Aight so when it comes to McCoy and Joanna I like to think that he does. I, at first, just kind of copy-pasted AOS McCoy onto TOS McCoy’s backstory (if that makes sense). This question got me really thinking about it, and I think he definitely, absolutely (to me) has Joanna in AOS.

I’ve got two little kiddos, and they’re a huge part of my life. They’ve changed me for the better, shaped me into who I am today, and I wouldn’t be who I am without them. To me, McCoy wouldn’t be the same without Joanna.

It’s weird to me that they didn’t include any of that in the AOS movies and I will forever be a little salty about that, because McCoy is a fucking grumpy GEM of a guy and needs that excellent character building more than Kirk and Spock need more unnecessary buddy-buddy moments. Look also while we’re on the AOS topic why is Kirk such a slut (in the nicest way)?? Where did my soft TOS Kirk go? With the oodles of respect for women and gentle sweet boy ways?

In saying all that, though, you can choose to go with whatever McCoy you want - I was where you are when I first entered the fandom! Don’t let anyone push their beliefs on you - you find your McCoy and give him all the love he deserves.

ps. I had fun thinking about/responding to this ask, so thank you! Honestly you are so welcome to message/send an ask anytime. Also let me know which McCoy you end up going with - I am always happy to chat about him :)

#aria answers #tumblr why you gotta make me post THEN edit to add tags #you change the fucken colour but you can't make THIS easier?#darn you to HECK

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youre-on-a-starship · 7 years

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Prompt: “one where reader just had a break up with her abusive boyfriend and kirk becomes her new one?” - Anon

Word Count: 2,273

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, physical, emotional, and mental to varying degrees.

Author’s Note: This story has been eating at me for a while. It was incredibly challenging to get into this mindspace and ultimately to write this piece. I have mercifully never been in an abusive relationship, so I am not sure how this would realistically play out. I want to extend my gratitude to my friend who shared some experiences with me so that I could try to make this sound in some way correct. Please heed the warnings here. We’re getting pretty much exactly what Anon asked for. Take care of yourselves. I pray that you can find someone, either a partner or a friend, who makes you feel as safe as you deserve to be.

—

This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea.

You clutched your glass of water and stared at the condensation patterns on the side. Nyota touched her elbow to yours. You looked up and she gave you a small smile and a nod, encouraging you that you were doing well. If staying in one place for half an hour while the bar slowly filled up with people was doing well, well then.

Lifting the glass to your lips, you took a long sip as someone took the empty seat on your other side.

“Lieutenant, haven’t seen you out in a while.”

You touched the glass back to the soggy cardboard coaster and looked sideways at your captain.

“I’ve been busy, Sir.”

“Oh come on, we’re on leave. Call me anything but that.”

“Um…” you glanced down at your hands before looking at his, draped gracefully around a scotch tumbler. The acrid aroma tickled your nostrils and you tried not to cringe at the smell.

“Kirk. Jim,” he suggested, leaning in slightly.

“Kirk,” you felt a grin looming on your lips. His easy smile made you feel at ease, and that made the pit in your stomach twinge.

“How have things been? Ensign Roberts left awfully abruptly, then we didn’t see you much after that. I was starting to get worried,” he set his lips earnestly and squinted as he listened.

“I’ve just had a lot of paperwork lately,” you muttered noncommittally, nudging Nyota’s arm with your elbow.

She turned to look at you and you heard her make a low noise.

“Kirk,” she said in an upbeat tone. You knew the two were already good friends. Maybe he’d rather talk to her. “When did you get here?”

“Just sat down,” he nodded behind him at the Snooker tables, “been cheating Bones out of his spending money.”

“You’re horrible to him,” she snickered, leaning in closer so that her arm pressed against yours reassuringly.

She talked you into coming out tonight. After five weeks, it was time you got out just to see other lifeforms, she said. Granted, Nyota came to visit you nearly every day to make sure you were alright, particularly on the days you had off and she worked. Eric left last month in a flurry of activity. No one ever asked why he requested his transfer. You never told anyone. Nyota danced around the subject once or twice, but you wouldn’t tell her. You didn’t plan on telling her or anyone else what happened. All you needed was a nice, tidy break and then maybe, one day, you’d start feeling like a normal person again.

“He has his moments too, you know,” Kirk grinned and sucked back the rest of his glass. “So what are you ladies up to? You’ve been sitting here for a while, gonna come play something?”

“I think I’m good here,” you said, trying to keep the mounting worry in your chest instead of your throat where he could hear it.

“We’ll think about it,” Nyota said.

Kirk nodded and looked down at his empty glass, pushing it back.

“I don’t think we’ve ever talked much, Lieutenant,” he said.

Your eyes widened as you wished he’d leave you be, especially with that damn smell on his breath.

“We haven’t,” you agreed.

“What do you do for fun?” Kirk asked.

“Nothing much,” you answered, squeezing your glass in your hand, letting it chill your skin through.

“We’ve been out here for two years, you’re telling me you don’t do anything fun?” he looked sideways at you with a playful grin on his face.

“I read,” you conceded, feeling that familiar pang in your chest that you got when you spoke with Nyota.

“Reading is good,” Kirk nodded, “I read, too. Read anything good lately?”

You balked inside, trying to remember what the last thing was you read. The words were all mushing together in your head in a sort of cognitive soup.

“I just finished the latest issue of the Journal of Applied Xenolinguistics,” you said. Was that the last issue? You acquired that months ago…

“The one with the article about Romulan morphology?”

“Yes.”

Thank God, it was the right one.

“I had trouble pulling that one apart, maybe we could hash it out together sometime?” he suggested.

“Maybe,” you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, even though you so desperately wanted to. This was a bad idea.

“I’d be happy to run over it with you, Kirk,” Nyota piped up on your other side.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” he said sniffing and looking over the bar at the lines of bottles on the wall.

After his third whiskey, Eric usually switched it up to a local specialty. This starbase had a lot of interesting liquors to choose from. He’d have a field day.

The bartender passed by and followed Kirk’s gaze.

“What’ll it be?”

“You know what, I think I’ll just have water, thanks,” he flashed a charming smile before turning his attention back to you. He didn’t start talking right away as though he could see the relief flowing through your chest.

“Y/N, are you okay here for a moment? I need to find the little girls’ room,” Nyota touched your arm. When you nodded at her, she slipped out of her stool and crossed the bar.

“I love this song,” Kirk said, nudging you in the ribs as he started swaying slightly in his seat. It took you a second to realize he was, in fact, swaying to the music. “Do you want to dance?” He laid a hand on your forearm, tugging slightly to urge you out of your seat.

Your heart clenched at the firm contact and you felt your jaw clench. Kirk seemed to notice, too, because he loosened his grip, although he didn’t lift his hand. Taking the initiative, you raised your other hand and closed your hand around his wrist, only touching him with the pads of your thumb and middle finger and lifting him from your skin.

“I’d prefer not to, thank you,” you said.

Kirk was quiet for a moment after he retracted his hand, rubbing his palms together and staring at the glass of water the bartender placed in front of him. He reached out and lifted the glass to his lips, draining the entirety of it before replacing it and sliding from his chair.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, looking you straight in the eye. “Uhura’s back.”

You turned slightly to see Nyota retaking her seat and when you looked back Kirk was already half-way back into the crowd.

–

“Lieutenant!” it was Kirk’s voice behind you as you walked down the boardwalk enjoying the sun.

You took a deep breath and turned around.

“Captain,” you greeted, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the light.

Kirk was jogging to catch up. He skidded to a halt about six feet from you, leaving you lots of space. A shot of ice ran down your spine. Did he know?

“How are you today?” he asked.

“Just fine, and yourself?”

“Good, I’m, I’m good,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets before withdrawing them again and pressing his palms together. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Captain,” you said, the knot you spent the morning unwinding in your stomach beginning to reform itself.

“I feel the need to anyway,” he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands while he spoke. He clasped them behind his back as you pressed your lips together. “I don’t want to press, but I… I think I understand. At least a little. My step-dad… he wasn’t a very nice guy. Isn’t a very nice guy. Anyway, if you need… if you need someone to talk to, or if you need someone bigger than Uhura to walk with you anywhere, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Captain, that’s…” what was that? It was nice. It was unsettling. It was reassuring. “Thank you.”

He nodded with a hesitant smile.

“Have a good day, Lieutenant.”

“The same to you, Captain,” just as Kirk started to turn away you had an impulsive thought. Was it a bad idea? “Um, if you’re walking this way, I wouldn’t say no to some company.”

Kirk blinked at you for a moment, chewing on his lip before falling into step a pace to your left.

The pair of you walked in silence for several minutes, coming up alongside a farmer’s market dealing in all kinds of colourful fruit and vegetables from every planet you could think of.

“Hungry?” Kirk asked, pointing at a stand of pears.

The closer you looked at them the more they looked like real, honest-to-God Bartlett pears.

“I haven’t had one of those in ages,” you breathed, recalling the sweet taste and gritty texture, one of the flavours of your childhood.

“May I get you one?” he asked.

You nodded with a small smile, feeling that pang again. You couldn’t suppress a smile as you bit into the pear he handed you. The sweet juice filled your mouth and made memories of summers with your family explode in the forefront of your mind.

Kirk started eating his own with a similar smile.

“Thank you,” you said when you swallowed. “That’s really nice of you.”

“My pleasure,” he smiled. “God, this is good.”

“My mom used to buy these all the time,” you said, as you started leading him between the stalls, passing a stand of Andorian moonfruit. “We used to go sit at the park, one of the old fashioned ones, and we’d eat them while we sat on the swings. Last time I was home she had some out on the table when I got there.”

“These were a treat for me,” Kirk said. “Mom only bought them once in a blue moon. They just didn’t occur to us. We were an apples and oranges kind of family.”

“Mom’s really into food,” you said as you took another bite.

“I think it’s starting to grow on me,” Kirk said as he finished his fruit. “All this diplomacy has really pulled me away from the meat and potatoes.”

“What’s the best thing you’ve ever had?”

“I had this… I don’t even know, it was kind of like a curry but it was sweet? It had these pearl-looking things in it that exploded when you bit them. That was on Lothasi Gamma a few months ago.”

“I remember Spock remarking on that meal, actually,” you said, waving a finger. “He doesn’t usually discuss his food. It must have been some meal.”

“It really was,” Kirk agreed. “What’s your favourite?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you thought about all the wonderful food your mom made you when you were at home, and about all the food you had the opportunity to try while you were out here. You thought about the comments Eric would inevitably make every time you finished your plate when you ate together. Your pear rested between your fingers half eaten. The temptation to finish it was starting to flower in your stomach; it was not a feeling you were used to. “Pears, I guess.”

Kirk looked at the ground. Had he heard the downturn in your voice?

“Did you have plans today?” he asked.

“Not particularly,” you said before quickly following up with, “I have some new journals that I need to read at some point.”

“As riveting as that sounds,” Kirk looked sideways at you, “I heard about this communal concert thing happening a few blocks from the barracks this afternoon. Do you like music?”

“I do.”

“Would you maybe want to go see it?”

“How does a communal concert work?” you asked, following him back onto the boardwalk as you emerged from the fruit stalls.

“From what I understand everyone just brings their own instrument, or they don’t, and everyone just kind of… jams together. It happens every so often, and they’re supposed to be well attended, so it’s kind of loud; I’d understand if you didn’t want to come along.”

“That sounds like fun,” you considered the scenario. This feeling in your gut wasn’t something you got every day. You got it around Nyota. You occasionally got it around Spock. And now here’s Kirk, making that same feeling of safeness wash through you. It was broad daylight. Afternoon on a planet not known for its drinking culture. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea.

“I think Uhura and Spock might like it, too,” Kirk added on.

“When we get back over that way we can find them and see,” you said, sidestepping a few inches closer to him as you made your way down the boardwalk. He didn’t make a move to touch you but you saw the edges of his features crinkle in a small smile.

“When?” he repeated with a note of happiness in his voice.

“It’s such a nice day out, it would be a waste of real sunshine to go rushing right back,” you looked at him as you continued down the street. “Unless you have some journals that need reading, too?”

He laughed.

“No, I think those can wait a day or two. Or three. I’d like to pretend to be a normal person for a little while longer.”

He looked at you sideways again and you felt your feet carry you another few inches closer to him so that you were only a foot apart at the elbows. Although there was still a knot in your stomach, the rushing of panic in your ears was finally quiet. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea.

#star trek #star trek imagine #imagine star trek #jim kirk #captain kirk #james t kirk #kirk imagine #imagine kirk #jim imagine #imagine jim #kirk x reader #reader x kirk #jim x reader #reader x jim

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