kirkmade-blog

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Jim: I won’t let a technicality stop me.

Uhura: A technicality like the rules?

Jim: Yeah, I hate those things.

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Jim: Surgery is just stabbing someone to life.

Bones: Please never become a surgeon.

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there will ALWAYS be those who mean to do us harm. to stop them, we risk awakening the SAME evil within ourselves. our first instinct is to seek REVENGE when those we love are taken from us. but that’s not who we are. we are here today to re-christen the USS ENTERPRISE and to honor those who lost their lives nearly one year ago. when christopher pike first gave me his ship, he had me recite the captain’s oath. words i didn’t appreciate at the time. now i see them as a CALL for us to remember who we once were, and who we must be again.         SPACE ... THE FINAL FRONTIER.         written by snake.

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nOPE couldn’t do it, deleted it, gonna start over i h a t e it

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i’ll do it better next time bc holy fuck ---- my photoshop is having some issues. i’m tired, too, but i’m itching to come back to this fandom. u can thank joan for indirectly dragging me back.

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an above average idiot *

doesn’t that mean i’m not an idiot ???

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Would you say you’re a typical example of your sex?

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dicks out for kirk

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he rooty-tooty-point-n-shooty

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                          and  while  you  are  well  aware  of  my  own  qualified  desires  to  serve  on  the  U.S.S. ENTERPRISE,  i’m  assigned  to  the  farragut  ??  no,          I’M  ASSIGNED  TO  THE  ENTERPRISE.          /    adored  by  joan.

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tik tok on the clock but the party don’t red alert

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NYOTA.

                 IMPENDING  DOOM      /      THE  FRAILTY  OF  HUMAN  LIFE.   it  comes  as  a  shock,   diminished  by  no  amount  of  logical  perusal  of  the  emotions  which  had  surfaced  in  the  wake  of  distress.     but  they  are  only  human.  they  cannot  live  unaffected  by  loss  or  grief,  cannot  even  begin  to  imagine  swearing  off  emotion  altogether.     which  is,  perhaps,   why  she  is  here  with  the  captain  and  not  in  her  shared  quarters.       the  grip  on  his  shoulder  grows  lax,   the  pressure  subsiding  until  her  fingers  are  only  brushing  against  his  uniform,  slipping  downwards  so  she  may  link  their  digits  together.     nyota  is  always  vexed  about  the  sheer  size  of  her  hand  in  comparison  to  most  others,  but  the  comfort  she  offers  is  there  nonetheless.        “  no,  ”   a shake  of  her  head  disrupts  the  hair  neatly  combed  in  a  tail,  and  it  swishes  over  her  back  as  she  moves.     “  nobody  is  fine.  ”   clenched  jaw,  furrowed  brows;  a  linguist  she  is,  can  express  herself  in  over  twenty  four  languages,  with  their  subsequent  regionalisms  and  degrees  of  usage,  but  for  some  reason  standard  eludes  her.      “  we,  ah  —  we  almost  died,  jim.  ”

          she was right. he was WRONG in every sense of the word. the fight rattled him to the bones but he could not shake this facade. the crew humanizes him, after all they’ve been through together, but for his family he has to remain UNBREAKABLE. the family comes first, and he’d sooner break down on his own, drink in-hand upon his bed, than in front of the people who need him now more than ever.   ❝ i know, we all did . . . but some of us didn’t, you don’t need me to tell you that. ❞   it sounded like he was snapping, and he winces. surely she understands and yet he knows that she cares as much as him. unwavering, the both of them.   ❝ i’m sorry, i didn’t mean ----- ❞   he sighs, head dropping.   ❝ how are you holding up ? ❞

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NYOTA.

                                               DELICATELY,    fingers  clasp  around  his  shoulder,    gentle  pressure  at  the  dips  indenting  where  his  uniform  lays  taut  over  muscle  and  bone.   by  definition,  she  &  the  captain  do  not  often  see  eye  to  eye,   a  repercussion  given  by  a  rocky  beginning  &&  an  even  capricious  middle.   he  is  abrasive  &  rash  in  a  way  nyota  finds  bordering  on  distasteful,  and  yet  .  .  .           she  does  not  move  her  hand.  does  not  release  any  of  the  pressure,  nor  does  she  step  aside  to  allow  him  space  to  wallow  in  whatever  infliction  had  caused  the  drop  in  his  customarily  cheerful,  if  not cocky,  demeanour.                   “  are  you  alright  ??  ”               /             @kirkmade

               the captain stares ahead, aimlessly walking the halls of the enterprise. the crew were shaken, the ship had been rattled and damaged. a close encounter they were all accustomed to by now taking its toll in the aftermath of an arduous brush with death. everyone was hard at work making repairs or tending to the wounded, and yet kirk sat there REMEMBERING those who fell before him. the hands he had let slip through his fingers. the touch surprises him, and he’s stopped. his jaw clenches and his eyes dart to the person that stops him ----- but it’s uhura. his muscles relax and his glare softens. he could not brush this off, he knows all too well she wouldn’t let him just slip away.     ❝ i’m fine, lieutenant. you ? ❞     he knows just as well that he can’t lie to her either.

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heY whats up im revamping perhaps