#you should be happy that a different characterization of your little dude spoke to other people!

[fishfission-dc]

With comic book fans it’s always “current [character] is so out of character because in [specific comic run from 30 years ago] he acted like this.”

Fellas, the best part of comics is that the characters constantly evolve, and probably have been changed over and over again for longer than you’ve been alive. Each writer and artist reimagines the character in their own way, in a new way that will speak to different people in a different time. I shamelessly love New 52 Red Hood & Arsenal, and don’t really like Three Jokers Jason Todd or Young Justice Arsenal. And that’s okay. Maybe you hate New 52 Jason and love Rebirth Jason. And that’s okay!!

Even though it’s irritating, don’t hate on writers and artists for creating your character in a way that you don’t find “accurate.” In comics, after all this time, I don’t think there is an “accurate” way to portray a character. They’re vessels to tell a story, and are meant to change.

It’s okay if you don’t like a certain portrayal of your favorite comic character, because you probably already have media out there to consume that does portray them in a way that speaks to you, and the character will probably continue to grow and change forever. And that’s really cool.

[emsemotional]

out of line

Okay so this is a little baby one shot  based on my mental health advocate!mickey headcanon that I posted a little while back. I used to write a lot for various fandoms back in high school, but it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve shared anything I’ve written with anyone other than @lewslew, so please be nice- I definitely have some room to grow with characterization and timing. 

This is taking place post-finale, so I’ve taken some liberties regarding what everyone ends up doing after the series. In my mind, Mickey and Ian buy the Gallagher house themselves, because they’re Southside boys at heart and they need a backyard for their dog (duh). But they’re waiting on their Westside lease to end, so Lip, Tami and Liam are staying in the house while Lip and Debbie fix it up and renovate a little (you can find my whole hc on what everyone’s up to post-series here). I was talking to @iansfreckles a while back about a possible Gallagher/Tamietti family dinner- I’m so interested in how this would go and how the families’ dynamics would interact. SO, this takes place at said Gallagher/Tamietti family cookout, right as Lip and Tami are moving out of the house, and Ian and Mickey are moving in. Cami and Brad’s kids are with Aunt Oopie, I dunno I didn’t want to write them haha. 

Content warning: ignorant/rude comments about individuals with mental illnesses and language akin to that of the show

-

Tami had almost said no when Cory asked to bring her new boyfriend to the Gallagher house. Between the Gallagher and Tamietti families, there were going to be plenty of big personalities under one roof, as is. But Cory had actually asked this time, and she had just babysat Fred during a last minute highlight appointment. Tami had reluctantly agreed and her sister had seemed so happy that she almost forgot her hesitation. 

Looking back, Tami’s decision was questionable. Lip had been able to prepare his family for the rest of the Tamietti’s, explaining the family dynamics and topics to avoid. Chad was a wildcard.

He had burst through the front door laughing loudly beside Brad and Cami, who didn’t seem to think the joke was as funny as Chad did. Cory and Bob followed them in, annoyance clear on Bob’s face. Tami and Lip moved to the door to greet their visitors, Tami depositing Fred in Carl’s lap, where he was sitting on the couch. Carl immediately grabbed the toddler under his arms, grinning at him and lifting him up above his head, making propellor noises on his way down. 

This, this is what Tami had wanted her family to see. The Tamiettis had made it clear that while they tolerated Lip, they thought Tami could do better. They thought he was ill equipped to help raise a family, constantly doubting his ability to provide, and his dedication to his family. Tami had tried to explain Lip’s role in his own family- the patriarch of the Gallagher home, a man who had been taking care of people for his entire life. Perhaps the only way for the other Tamiettis to see the value in the Gallagher side of Fred’s family, was to observe it first hand.

Lip made it to the Tamiettis first, shaking Bob’s hand and taking the handful of bags and jackets that were thrust into his arms. 

“No show Brad!” Tami cheered, hugging her sisters, “You made it!” 

Brad rolled his eyes, lightly clapping Tami on the shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

Cory turned towards her sister, a wide smile on her face, “Tam, this is Chad, the guy I was telling you about?” 

Tami turned to shake his hand, finally giving him a good look. Truth be told, he looked like every other guy Cory had seriously dated- some tall, brunette, conventionally attractive, straight laced kind of guy. He didn’t seem any different from the other business majors, fraternity boys and bar bouncers that Cory had intruded her to. 

“Tami right? So great to meet you, thanks for inviting me!” 

“Of course, nice to meet you too! Come on in, you guys!” 

The Tamiettis settled into the living room, Cami choosing the seat next to Carl, cooing down to Fred, “There’s my favorite nephew! How are you sweet boy?” 

She ran a gentle hand across Fred’s head before introducing herself to Carl, “I’m Cami, Tami’s sister.” Carl swallowed a smirk at the rhyming names, nodding, “Carl, Lip’s brother.”

“Ah, the one buying the house?” 

“Nah, that’s Ian and Mickey, they’re upstairs somewhere. I’m the cop,” Carl stated proudly.

“Fuck the police!” Mickey’s voice called into the living room in response, as a flash of red and black hair came tumbling down the stairs. All the Tamiettis turned to watch Mickey jog through the living room with Franny on his shoulders, Ian chasing after them. 

“Get him Uncle Mickey!” Franny squealed, “He’s gonna catch us!”

“I’m a little busy running, kid. Hit ‘em or somethin’,” Mickey grunted, scrambling to hand his niece a rubber ball previously balanced on the back of the couch. 

Franny wound up her arm, tossing the ball at Ian’s head with all her six year old might, “Take that, Uncle Ian! You’re dead!”

Ian groaned dramatically, clutching his face and sliding onto the ground. He let out a theatrical sign and closed his eyes, finally defeated. 

Franny cheered as Mickey lifted her off his shoulders, “We did it! We killed him!” Franny dropped down to the ground to check that Ian had accepted his defeat, poking him in the back with the toe of her shoe.

Mickey gave her a crinkly grin, the kind he reserved for Franny and Ian alone- unguarded and childlike. “Sure did! Pretty badass if you ask me.” 

Ian got to his feet, tickling Franny’s stomach as he addressed the room, “Hey, sorry we were in the middle of… a game.” 

“Liquor store robbery!” Franny cheerfully announced. 

 Franny began introducing herself to the unfamiliar faces, sharing that she was in the first grade, enjoyed playing with guns, and wanted to be a welder like her mommy when she grew up. As Liam and Debbie descended the stairs, and the rest of the Gallaghers and Tamiettis introduced themselves, Tami marveled at how smoothly things seemed to be going. No one was yelling, or aggressively drunk, or making a thinly veiled classist comment- yet. 

The two families quickly settled into a comfortable chatter of introductions and the conversation, surprisingly, continued to flow without a hitch. They soon made their way outside, where Debbie and Bob chatted while manning the grill. The other family members scattered across the yard- Liam sat in a lawn chair typing on a laptop, occasionally asking Lip for grammar advice. Ian, in the middle of telling some wild story from his EMT days, was fully emerged in conversation with the rest of the Tamietti family while Mickey and Carl considered how many crimes Carl could theoretically arrest him for, arguing over how many years Mickey would have to serve. 

Everything was great- until Chad decided to open his mouth. They had finished dinner and were crammed into the living room, escaping the Chicago windchill. Chad was sharing one of his own work stories from the construction site he worked on, describing a man who had wandered onto the site and started yelling at Chad and some of his coworkers that week.

“Totally off his rocker,” Chad commented, “He kept telling us about how we were tearing down his house, and that he didn’t give us permission to do this. Just screaming at us, swearing, and he wouldn’t listen when we kept telling him that he trespassing, y’know? Just super crazy- needed a fucking Xanax or something.” 

Ian tensed, fiddling with the ring on his left hand while the other Gallaghers exchanged pointed glances. Tami began to interrupt, clearly in attempt to change the subject, but Chad continued. 

“The next day,” he explained, “the very next day, he came up to us and was asking to bum a smoke, like he didn’t fucking flip his crazy ass on us yesterday, I swear he must’ve been like bipolar or something, acting like we were old pals. Must’ve gotten carted off or killed or something, haven’t seen him since.” 

While the Tamiettis offered a polite chuckle, the Gallaghers remained silent. 

Mickey, who had been sitting on the couch next to Ian, looked up from his folded hands. “So you got something against bipolar people? It’s a fucking mental illness man.” 

Chad smiled, backtracking, “Hey, nah, calm down. He’s just some crazy homeless dude, who cares?” 

“He’s not just some crazy guy, he’s a person with a disease, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Mickey asked. 

Ian placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder shaking his head. “Mick, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

Eyebrows raised comically high, Mickey stood and crossed his arms. “Um, fuck that, it does matter! You’re not a fucking punchline Ian. This is our house, yours and mine, and no one’s going to be talking like that in my house. Obviously no one else is going to say something, and you shouldn’t have to, so I will. I won’t stand for that shit.”

The Tamiettis exchanged horrified looks as the Gallaghers mostly just looked at the floor. Finally Lip spoke up from where he was standing by the TV, “Mental health is uh… a sensitive subject around here. We just… we take it seriously, y’know? First hand experiences and shit.” 

Cory opened her mouth to speak but she quickly stopped when she saw Tami swiftly shake her head in her direction, suggesting she stay out of it. 

Mickey lightly rubbed his eyebrow, “Yo, douchebag, apologize or get the hell out of my house.”

Chad raised his hands in surrender, “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal man, sorry.”

Mickey rolled his eyes with a huff, turning on his heel to walk towards the back of the house. Wordlessly, Ian followed him out the back door, leaving the living room in a heavy silence.

After a moment, Chad breaks the silence, “Look, I really didn’t mean to start something, I was just telling a story. Should I go out and apologize again, try to talk about it?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Liam replied, “You should give Mickey some time to cool off.” 

“Yeah,” Lip agreed, “I wouldn’t follow them out. Mickey… he gets protective? Always has been, of Ian. Our mom was bipolar, and so’s Ian. He’s stable, doing great, but he’s, uh, he’s been through a lot. It’s just not good joke material around here.”

Chad nodded, silence overtaking the room again. Franny looked up from her coloring book, clearly bored with the turn the night had taken.

“I’m gonna go play with Uncle Mickey and cheer him up!” 

Debbie chuckled from her seat across the room, “Yeah, go bring them some beers Franny.” 

“Okay!” Franny chirped, hopping to her feet and skipping into the kitchen. Debbie gave a soft smile as she watched her daughter, on the way to hang out with her favorite uncles. 

-

From his seat on the back stairs, Ian watched Mickey pace through the yard, grumbling about “Fucking Northside yuppies… and their ignorant bigoted asses… what the fuck is wrong with people?” He glanced over at Ian, his expression softening when he noticed the defeated look on Ian’s face. Mickey paused his pacing, coming to sit next to Ian on the steps. 

“I’m sorry, I know I prolly embarrassed you. Was I out of line man? I just got so fucking mad,” Mickey quietly mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap. 

Ian gently shook his head, “Don’t apologize. You weren’t out of line… I think I’m just disappointed, y’know? That comments like that still get to me? I should be over it by now, every reminder that I’m sick or different shouldn’t still sting like that. And why do I have to be the one that the conflict and the drama revolves around? Why not fucking Carl or Liam or god… anyone else just for once?

Mickey’s expression softened even further. He nudged his knee into Ian’s leg, “What’s that shit you told me when Terry died? Trauma doesn’t always make fucking sense and recovery isn’t… oh shit, what’s the word? Linear! Recovery isn’t linear. Doesn’t make you fucking weak, just means you’ve been through some shit.”

“Yeah. I guess it was easier to tell you that than it is to tell myself.” 

Mickey hummed in agreement and the two sat in silence for a moment before the back door creaked open. A tiny red head shoved her way through the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around two bottles, frosty with condensation. Franny sat down on the steps between them, silently handing her uncles their beers. Ian accepted his with a dry chuckle, thanking her. Mickey ruffled her hair, offering a small smile. The voices from inside had faded and the night was relatively calm, other than the occasional siren or dog barking. 

Franny, not looking particularly concerned, looked up at them to ask, “Uncle Mickey, why’d you get mad at that guy?”

Mickey rubbed at his eyebrow and let out a sigh. He looked towards Ian, a silent request for him to take the lead on this conversation. He was confident in his ability to discuss the stupidity of princesses or the importance of wearing gloves during a legitimate liquor store robbery with his niece. He knew how to play, and joke, and how to be there when she woke up from a bad dream, stumbling down the stairs with bedhead and snotty tears. Mickey had grown into his role as an uncle, but he still doubted his ability to talk about the tough stuff with anyone other than Ian. 

Ian cleared his throat, taking a second before asking, “Franny, do you know what it means to make a joke at someone else’s expense?” 

Franny’s eyebrows scrunched together and she shook her head. 

“It’s when you make a joke to kind of make fun of someone else. Like to tease them. Y’know how we make cop jokes around Uncle Carl because he’s a cop?”

She nodded, and Ian continued, “That guy… Aunt Tami’s sister’s boyfriend, was making a joke and it ended up being at my expense. That’s what made Uncle Mickey mad. He didn’t mean to make fun of me, but he kind of did. That’s all. Uncle Mickey was just sticking up for me.”

Franny sat for a moment, deep in thought. “I didn’t know he was talking about you.”

“No, he wasn’t. Not directly. He was telling a story about someone else. But he made a comment about him being bipolar. D’you remember when we talked about that? That I have bipolar disorder?” 

Franny nodded, “That’s why you take your special medicine.”

Ian continued, “A lot of people don’t really understand what that means, and sometimes they make jokes about it that aren’t really funny. They’re just kind of… mean. So that’s why we got upset.”

Franny considered this for a minute and asked, “Do you want me to go tell mommy? She says I should tell her if someone’s being mean. She can fix it.” 

Ian smiled a little, patting her little back and shaking his head, “Nah, mommy already knows, she heard. And I think Uncle Mickey did a pretty good job telling him that what he said was wrong.” 

Mickey let out a sarcastic laugh, “And I got more to say to that piece of shit if I ever see his Northside yuppy fucking face again.”

“I think he got the point Mick,” Ian sighed, “Don’t waste your time.” 

Franny shrugged “Mommy and Uncle Lip and Aunt Tami were all still talking in there when I left. Mommy told me it was a good idea for me to come out here.” 

Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand, bumping their shoulders together. “Whatcha wanna do, man? We can head back to the apartment, go to the Alibi and get tanked, I don’t care, it’s up to you.”

“Don’t know, I’m tired of running from things. And you were right Mick, it’s our fucking house. Could we just sit out here for a little while?” Mickey ran a thumb across Ian’s hand and mumbles so quietly, in that voice he only uses with Ian- “‘Course we can”

Having completed her task of delivering beers, Franny stood up and put her hands on her hips, “I’m going to go inside, I won’t let anyone be mean to you Uncle Ian.”

Ian looked up to lock eyes with his niece, “I appreciate it Fran, thanks.” 

She stood up and gave Ian a kiss on the top of his head, no doubt a gesture she’d picked up from some other family member, likely Mickey or Fiona. Ian smiled as she turned away to walk back into the kitchen.

After a few minutes Ian jerked his head towards the door, “Y’ready?” 

Mickey hummed in agreement, standing and offering back his hand to help Ian up. They walked over the threshold of the kitchen into a conversation clearly about Mickey’s exchange with Chad. The Tamiettis were all sitting down in the living room, with the Gallaghers mostly standing, leaning against the various remaining surfaces. Lip’s hands were in his hair, a plain indication of his frustration and exhaustion. Tami abruptly stopped talking, in the middle of what seemed like an impassioned rant. She seemed unsure of how to continue now that Ian and Mickey had reentered the house. Debbie, sat on the couch with Franny in her lap, was scowling, while Liam absently stared at the wall, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. Carl quickly walked into the kitchen from where he had been leaning up against the living room door frame, clapping Ian on the shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you guys go take a walk or something for a sec- I think Lip and Tami have it handled.”

Lip spoke up from the living room, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Mickey tensed, bracing himself. “No, it’s not fucking okay Phillip-“

Lip grumbled something about that not being what he meant, shaking his head, while Ian quietly interrupted his husband, forcing him to make eye contact. 

“No, it’s not, but I don’t want to just keep going over it, Mick. I’m not in the mood to educate him. I’m not saying it’s okay, but I want to move on. Lip can handle it.”

Carl nodded and repeated himself, “Go take a walk, come back in ten. Lip and Tami got it.” 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint and pressing it into Ian’s palm with a smirk. 

“Rolled this for later, you guys take it.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey, who let out a sigh with a slouch, “Fine. Be back in ten.”

-

The two of them return to the backyard, Tami’s yelling resumed, her voice carrying all the way outside. 

 “M’sorry, I know I keep talkin’ when you just want it to be over with,” Mickey mumbled, looking down at the dead grass in the vacant lot beside the house.

 Ian grabbed him by the back of his neck, fingers brushing through Mickey’s short hair, “Hey, no. I… I appreciate you sticking up for me- seriously. I’m just tired… tonight’s not supposed to be about me y’know? It’s supposed to be about Lip and Tami, and Fred, not me. I just wanted to be Lip’s brother tonight, not the crazy brother, the sick brother. I just don’t wanna be the one that causes the issues anymore.” 

“You didn’t cause this Ian. You being bipolar didn’t fucking cause this- that asshole, opening his mouth and not knowing when to shut it- that’s what caused it. I get that you just wanna let it go, and I will, but if he say’s something else-“

“If he says something else you can beat the shit out of him.”

Mickey grinned, looking up to meet Ian’s gaze. “Fucking fantastic. You wanna smoke this bitch?” 

He grabbed the joint out of Ian’s hand and pulled a lighter from his flannel’s front pocket.

Ian finally cracked a smile, one that actually reaches his eyes, “Free weed? Fuck yeah.”

Mickey tossed the lighter to Ian, who caught it and lit the joint with a practiced flick. He took a couple hits and closed his eyes, smiling again as he exhaled the smoke. He handed the lit joint over to Mickey, along with his lighter and jerked his head in the direction of the van in the backyard, “Wanna go sit?” 

Mickey nodded and breathed in a sharp inhale, heading in the direction of the passenger seat door. 

Ian climbed up into the drivers seat, letting out a deep sigh, “Feel like I’m in high school again- sneaking around with you, trying to find somewhere to be alone.” Mickey chuckled and passed the joint back over.

 They smoked in silence for a while, Ian nudging Mickey with his elbow as the ember approaches the filter, “You want the last hit?” 

“Nah man, that’s yours,” Mickey shakes his head.

Ian took it, stubbing out the butt on the van’s dashboard and tossing it onto the floor. 

“Still wanna kick his ass?” He asked, lazily turning his head towards Mickey with a grin.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I think I can contain myself.”

“Yeah?” Ian breathed, inching his face closer to his husband’s. The moon, freshly risen, highlighted Ian’s face, illuminating the dash of freckles across his nose.

Mickey didn’t answer, opting to close the distance between them, pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s lips. Ian’s hand came up to cradle Mickey’s face, thumb gently brushing his cheek.

And if they didn’t make it back inside for a while, so be it. 

[kaitymccoy123]

Yeoman, huh?

Intro: So this is a LONG LONG LONG overdue request from @annalisehartmann so I apologize a million times over and over for the lateness of this one.  But it’s super long so I hope that makes up for it!  And I kinda love it a lot so I hope it’s alright!

I guess I’ll start us off for the Trek Fest 2017!  Organized by the amazing @outside-the-government and the first week is all about Jim!  It just so happened that I finished this and scheduled it to post today, without even knowing it was June 1st lol.   

Pairing: Jim x reader

Word Count: 4,300ish (haha whoops)

Summary: The reader is an accomplished yeoman assigned to the Enterprise to work with Jim Kirk. They only know of Kirk what comes from his reputation, which isn’t very good. But once they start working together, they realize the Captain is not all of what his reputation sets before him.  When aliens attack the ship, the reader gets caught up in the battle.  Are they willing to risk everything to save the man they are falling for?

Warning: very fluffy.  much fluff.  

A/N: So my starting idea for this one is that the reader has the wrong idea about Jim, and goes into working with him with this idea.  I do not think Jim is any of the things the reader thinks, but that is just part of the story.  

Also, I had to throw Scotty in there, of course I did.  He’s my fave, of course! 

Let me know what you think about Jim’s characterization here, because I feel like it was more TOS than AOS (see notes at bottom for more).  

-Enjoy!-

You knew you wanted to be a yeoman ever since you were little.  

Every other kid wanted to be a doctor, or lawyer, or a captain.  But not you. You loved listening to the stories your mom told, as she was a yeoman herself, and you knew the position inside and out, even before you could pursue the career itself.   You wanted to be the right hand of the captain, helping to organize things and filter information, and set the captain straight as needed.

You had been top of your class at the Academy, and had been assigned to 5 different ships, 5 different captains in the 5 years since you graduated, and you loved every single minute of it. 

After just finishing up a 6 month mission, you were excited to hear what your new assignment would be. 

But when the name showed up on your PADD, you groaned. 

“What?” Your best friend, Rowena, looked over your shoulder. 

“I’m assigned to the Enterprise.” You informed, skimming over your new assignment. 

“What?!  That’s amazing!” She shook your shoulder, but you gave a grunt. 

“Yeah, so amazing, except I’ll have to work with the infamous Captain James T. Kirk.”  Your tone was laced with sarcasm.  

“DUDE!” She slapped your arm excitedly and you scowled, “You are so lucky!  I’ve heard he’s super hot.” 

Rowena sighed longingly and you threw your PADD onto the bed, flopping back onto it so you were staring at the ceiling. 

“Yeah, sure, and an entitled, cocky, arrogant prick who just wants to get in every woman’s pants.”

Rowena flopped down beside you, “What’s so bad about that?  God knows you could use some.”

“Ro!” You gasped and slapped her arm, but you weren’t mad, this was just how she was, giving it to you straight and narrow. 

“It’s true, Y/N.” She giggled, “how long is the mission?” 

“Five years.” You raised your eyebrows in mirror to her expression and nodded. 

“That’s a long time.”

“I know.”

Rowena turned suddenly onto her side, making the bed jump a little, “Y/N, you are the best yeoman that I have ever met.  You can, and you have, handled complete asshats that call themselves captains, so you will give this Captain Kirk a run for his money if he’s anything like people say.  You got this.” 

You smiled.  She always knew exactly what to say, hopefully this time she was right. 

The Enterprise was the most beautiful ship you had ever seen, let alone been on.  As you walked the halls, you tried to admire the architecture of the inside of the ship, but you couldn't too much because you were lost and couldn't find the bridge, where you were supposed to report.  

You had to ask three separate times for directions and finally when you found it, Captain Kirk hadn't even arrived yet.  You drew into the back of the mingling crowd, pulling out your PADD to get ready to take notes.  You knew you probably didn't need to, but it was part of your job and it helped you focus. 

After a few minutes, Captain Kirk finally arrived, hurrying through the lift doors onto the captain's platform, looking a little out of breath.  And his command gold shirt was on backwards.  

He jumped right into his speech, oozing charisma and smiles as he spoke, and you dutifully took notes.  After the speech, you watched and waited until everyone had went up to Captain Kirk and introduced themselves, taking the time to observe your new captain.   He had golden blond hair and a dazzling smile, his posture sure-of-himself and welcoming, and you tried to match your previous notions about him to this man in front of you.  

"I'm going to head down to get the preliminary reports from Scotty, com me if you need me." He spoke to Spock, the first officer. 

"Captain Kirk?" 

He smiled as you approached, and you were thrown off by the blue of his eyes, almost crystalline, and they crinkled around the edges when he smiled.  

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, your new yeoman." You extended your hand and he took it, shaking it firmly. 

"Nice to meet you, Y/N, I'm sorry but I have to get down to engineering but we can get more acquainted when I get back." He nodded and took off in the direction of the lift.

"Captain?" You called. 

He stopped.

"Are you familiar with the job description of a yeoman?" You asked, placing your hand on your hip.

He turned back to you, his eyebrow raised, and his gaze searching and confused. 

"It includes retrieving reports and filtering information back to the captain." You informed, walking slowly up to the puzzled captain, "So I will go get these reports, and you can sit your pretty little behind in your chair and do whatever captains do."

You knew you probably shouldn't be so sassy with your tone on your first meeting with him, but you couldn't push the thought of his reputation out of your mind.  

"Right, yep, I apologize, Y/N, I'll take a seat then, and you can go run and get those reports." Captain Kirk pursed his lips and slid back over to his chair, dipping his head and actually looking a little apologetic.  

Walking over to stand next to his chair, you looked down at him, "I've been told that you have never had a yeoman before, and I am here to assure you I'm here for anything you need.  I've been around the block a few times before." You found yourself relaxing next to the smiling captain. 

"Good to know, Y/N," He tilted his head as he looked up at you from his chair, "I look forward to working together."

You smiled down at him, "Oh, and Captain?" You mused, "Your shirt's on backwards." 

His eyes widened and he glanced down at the shirt, already starting to pull on the sleeves as you retreated to the lift. 

Add idiot to your list of adjectives to describe Jim Kirk. 

You could quickly scratch that off your list as Jim Kirk was definitely not an idiot.

"What is the level the war core is running at?" Jim said as he read the report that you had retrieved. 

"3.5.  Scotty said we are doing jus' fine." You pulled out the Scottish accent and it made Jim smile. 

"And the radio connectivity of the generators?  Are they still within normal levels?" 

"Yes, Ensign Heather said they were a little high the other day but they handled it."

"And the..." 

"The pressure in the power cells has not exceeded maximum level." You recited, know knowing exactly what he was going to ask. Jim looked up at you, handing you back your PADD with a brush of his fingers on yours, and he seemed satisfied with your work. 

You were getting used to delivering reports like this.  Every time you came back with a report from any part of the ship, he would question you on the details.  Like when you would return from engineering, you quickly learned to gather as much information as possible because he seemed to know everything about everything that came back to him.  He would ask what levels the warp core was set at, what the detailed numbers were involving radiowaves, and generators, and comlinks were.  Things that you had never even heard of.  But you learned quickly.  

And it was kind of fun, learning all these new terms.  You always loved getting to work with a new captain, falling in step next to them, learning what they liked and disliked, how they ran things.  It was one of your favourite parts about the job.

You could also cross 'entitled' off your list, because most of the time he actually forgot you were there and would get up to go get something himself.  Most of the other captains you worked with had you running around like a madwoman, retrieving this and that, not excluding coffee runs and delivering personal messages.  

But not Jim.  He thanked you each and every time you returned to the bridge with something for him, and when you brought him his lunch one time, because he had forgotten to go for a break, he insisted that you needn't do that for him.

“Captain, must I remind you, again, that it’s my job?” You teased, setting down his lunch tray. 

“I know, but...” 

“No buts, Captain, I am happy to do it.” The genuine tone of your voice surprised you, and it made Jim tilt his head to the side and squint his eyes at you curiously. 

The gaze made heat rush to your cheeks, and you quickly ducked away, claiming you had notes to organize.  

"Captain, I have the report you asked for from Dr. McCoy, as well as I filed the navigation charts for our next week's journey." You walked over towards the captain's chair, engrossed in a file on your PADD, but were stopped by a set of hands on your shoulders. 

"You should watch where you're going, Y/N." You looked up to meet Jim's blue eyes near inches from your own.  

You stepped back on instinct, "Sorry, Captain, I was just getting the next task sorted in my head."

He chuckled lowly, "You work too hard, Y/N, and I told you to call me Jim." 

"Sorry, Jim, I'm just used to calling captains, Captain." You blushed, and thrust the PADD into Jim's hands, a little too roughly.  

He gave you an amused side-eye and you felt yourself blush even more.  

"I'd like to buy you a drink later, if you'll have me." Jim dropped his arm, the PADD swinging at his side, and your head sprung up at the statement. 

"Uh... I..." You stammered, making the mistake to meet his eyes and you nearly swooned at the sight of the bright blue irises. 

"I apologize if I have assumed too much, Y/N, you don't have to." His eyes turned downwards now, his stoic facade breaking only for a moment. 

"No, Cap- I mean, Jim I would love to have a drink with you." You smiled up at him and his mouth stretched into a smile as well. 

"Really?"

You nodded. 

"Well then, we can head there after shift."

"Sounds like a plan." You chirped, butterflies set aflutter in your stomach which brought your voice up an octave, and you tried to hide it with a cough.  

Jim just looked amused at how flustered you seemed, and you gave a quick shrug to your shoulders before nearly bolting for the lift doors. 

"Ro, he's actually really nice." You were sprawled out on your bed with your com to your ear, just having returned from having drinks with Jim, and you were still all jittery from it.  

You and him had talked all evening, and you could definitely now cross 'arrogant' off your list because he was the sweetest person, and the best listener, you had ever talked to.  The evening was spent chatting and laughing, with a few suggestive brushes of fingers and knees, but nothing too intimate, and he had walked you back to your quarters, bidding you goodnight, nothing more.  

"Have you slept with him yet?" Rowena asked, and you snorted. 

"No!  No, I haven't." You defended, grinning to yourself and biting your fist. 

"But you've thought about it, right?"

"RO!"

"Okay, okay!  But I can hear it in your tone, you like him." She teased.  

"I DO NOT!" You argued, with much less fight in your voice than you intended, "But he's a really good guy, okay, NOT that I'm going to sleep with him."

Rowena's giggles resounded through the com, and it made you laugh too.  You missed your best friend. 

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, sweetie." Rowena giggled.

"Yeah," You thought of his crystal blue eyes and sweet smile, "me too."

The next day you arrived on shift, expecting a warm welcome by Jim, but he wasn't in his chair.  Asking First Officer Spock where the captain could be, he told you that he hadn't arrived on shift yet, which was very unlike Jim.  You waited patiently for him, busying yourself, your eyes constantly flicking back and forth from your work to the lift doors. 

"I'm going to go check the engineering room to see if Jim's there." You said non-noncommittally, to no one in particular, and turned to stride out the door.  

The hallways leading up to the engineering room were eerily quiet, and you found yourself tiptoeing on instinct, your pulse racing in your ears.  

"Jim?" You called into the empty corridor with no response. 

Reaching the door you found it ajar, the lights in the engineering room dark as you tentatively stuck your head in.  You were going to call out again when you heard the mumble of voices.  Stepping along the metal bridge that ran along the outside edge of the engineering room, you kept silent and clutched your PADD to your chest.  

Then, finally, a few figures came into view and you froze, crouching down instinctively.  Holding your breath, you peered over the edge and saw five figures, two you recognized as Scotty and Jim, the others were dark, hooded aliens.  Jim and Scotty were nearly backed up against some boilers, the aliens pointing some large weapons at them, and they were talking, but it was too far away for you to hear anything.  

Jim appeared to say something, looking very fierce and captain-ly, and the voice of the aliens grew louder, and they appeared to advance on Jim and Scotty.  Panic flood through you as Jim and Scotty pressed up against the boiler and the alien's weapons raised menacingly.  

"JIM!" 

The syllable was out of your mouth and echoing across the engineering room before you could stop it.

The attack on Jim and Scotty paused, and all heads spun in your direction. You froze, your mouth hanging open, in a half crouch on the metal bridge. 

Jim looked at you for a moment, but then turned back to the aliens and swung at them.  He managed to get the weapon from the hands of the closest alien, who seemed to bark orders at the other two, and you go the message loud and clear, even though it was in whatever language they spoke. 

Get the girl.

You gulped as you saw them dash for the stairs and you took off, and the last thing you saw was Jim’s eyes on you before you were out of view.  

You had been in a few battles before, but you were usually told to get out of harm’s way and hide, because you had barely any fighting experience.  You had taken a few classes on self-defense, and practiced with Rowena at the gym in the Academy, but hadn’t had to use your skills much.  

Why the thought of your and Ro’s gym matches were going through your mind at a time like this you had no idea, but you were snapped back into reality very quickly.  One of the aliens was coming down the bridge in front of you, and the other was coming from behind you.  You were trapped. 

Adrenaline left your mouth dry and your limps shook, when you realized you still held your PADD in your hands.  Looking around you, you decided that your only way out was to go over the edge of the railing.  

So in one fell swoop you tossed the PADD at the oncoming alien, it bouncing off him uselessly, but it made him stop for a second, giving you just enough time to hop over the railing and land on the top of the nearest boiler.  

The aliens shouted at you as you skidded across the top of the slippery metal boiler, and let out a garbled scream when you slid to the edge.  You managed to get a hold on one of the metal railings sticking off the boiler, and you slammed into the side as you fell, your arm nearly being wretched from it’s socket as you dangled. 

“Help!” You croaked, kicking out at the boiler to see if you could pull yourself up a bit, but it was no use.  

“Let go, lass, I’ll catch ya!” A voice from below you, Scotty, with his arms raised and a cut down the side of his face. 

“It’s too high!” You squeaked, your arm beginning to tremble from trying to hold up your weight. 

Two loud clanks sounded over your head and you managed to look up, it was the ones who were trying to get to you, landing on the top of the boiler.  

You heard Scotty swear from below you, and you saw his red shirt move out of view. 

“Scotty!  What-” You started, but suddenly the boiler jerked and something clanked again, and you jostled against the side. 

You heard, rather than saw the two aliens fall into the boiler, Scotty must have opened a panel in the top, and they were enveloped into the water which splashed over the side onto you, and you sputtered.  

Their screams were unusually loud and pained for just behind immersed in water, and you shook as they beat the inside.  Your arm was beginning to burn and you cried out again when suddenly the shaking stopped.  

“Well tha’s interesting.” 

You met Scotty’s eyes, who had moved back to underneath you, “Scot-”

Your hand suddenly slipped, probably due to a mix of your tired muscles and the water-covered handle, and you fell, not even able to cry out and you landed directly on top of Scotty.  His form softened your fall a little, but knocked him to the ground, you on top of him, and you could hear his groans and curses.  

Rolling off of him, you bent over on your hands and knees, gasping for air.  

“Y/N?  Scotty?  Are you alright?” It was Jim’s voice now, and his knees came into view. 

He took your collective groans and gasps as a ‘no’ and you felt a hand on your back as he tilted you back and his concerned blue eyes met yours. 

“’m okay.  I landed on Scotty, so he must’a got the brunt of it.” You urged him, but let yourself be comforted by his gaze for a moment before you pushed him towards Scotty. 

Scotty seemed to right himself quickly, though he was favouring his right side, a hand on his ribs, and you felt instantly bad.  You stood shakily, leaning on the side of the boiler.

“You have to get out of here, there is another group on the other side of the room, heading our way.” Jim’s voice cut through your struggle and his hand found your shoulder. 

“There’s more of them?!” You rasped, bending over to catch your breath. 

“You get out of here, Y/N, I’m serious.  Go.” He placed his hand on your back and you straightened up. 

“No, I can help, they don’t like water, Jim, it dissolved the other two aliens, we can stop them-.”

“No, go, now.  That’s an order.” His gaze was fierce and insistent, but you thought you could see a touch of pleading in his expression. 

You only nodded and moved to Scotty, tugging on his arm to get him to follow you.  

You met Jim’s eyes one last time as you retreated, silently begging the universe to let you be able to see those blue eyes again. 

Once you were out of sight you turned to Scotty, stopping suddenly. 

“We have to flood the engineering room.” You met the engineer’s wide eyes. 

“But Jim said-”

“I don’t care what Jim said, we can’t just leave him to defeat an army of aliens all on his own.  He’ll die.” Your voice cracked on the last word, and Scotty raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Alrigh’.” He nodded. “There’s a way.  As soon as I saw those things get all washed away inside tha’ boiler, I knew what we needed t’a do.  Follow me.”

You gave Scotty a nervous, but appreciative smile as you followed him deep into the engineering room.

A few minutes later, a plan was devised and you and Scotty were in position.  

You were up on the metal bridge again, tucked into the side of it, and you watched with horror as the army of aliens mad there way towards Jim, who seemed to be limping.  

“Y’a ready, lass?” Scotty’s voice came through your com. 

Though you swear you’d never felt your heart beat this fast before, you gulped and nodded, “Ready.”

“Ok, go.”

At those words you surged forward, dashing along the metal bridge, your feet landing heavily and loudly as you ran, which didn’t concern you at all, because that was kind of the point.   

“HEY!  STUPID ALIEN PEOPLE!  OVER HERE!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, and all eyes turned to you once again, the alien group changing direction and heading your way, away from Jim. 

“NOW SCOTTY!” You screamed and grabbed onto the railing for dear life.  

The whole room seemed to shudder, and there was an impossibly loud set of creaking, which you knew were the boilers opening and beginning to overflow. 

“Jim!  Jim, get up!  Onto the ledge!” You urged, meeting his eyes with a flash of panic, having realized that you forgot to warn him. 

His form was small from your high perch, but he paused for only a second before rushing to the nearest set of stairs and beginning to climb, quickly getting lost in the sea of metal stairs and railings. 

Water rushed into the room, starting to flow across the floor, and you silently begged it to go faster, as the aliens were starting to realize that something was wrong and were heading in your direction.  

But your pleading seemed to work as another wave of water rushed across the floor and soon reached the feet of the aliens.  Very quickly they were screeching and scattering, trying to get away from the water, but it was no use, your plan was a success.  

Scotty had locked the exit doors, sealed them so the water didn’t leak across the ship, but also so the aliens had no where to go.  

You sank to the floor, your hands pressed to your ears, as the screeching was so bad and loud that it was almost painful.  Peeking a glance to the aliens, you could see they were dropping like flies, slowly being disintegrated into dark blobs in the water, some of them trying to dash back to where you assumed their ship boarded, but they slipped and fell and were soon washed away.  

Suddenly the room when quiet.  You could tell when Scotty shut off the water, because the creaking stopped, and the water seemed to settle.  

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding and pressed your head back against the railing, dropping your hands from your ears.  

You did it.  

Relief flooded through you as you shakily stood, and suddenly another, quieter set of yelling met your ears.  It brought a smile to your mouth when you realized it was Scotty whooping in success from across the room.  

You whooped once in response and pumped your fist in triumph as you slowly made your way across the bridge again, your limps still shaky as the adrenaline began to wane.  

You stopped suddenly when you realized there was another form at the end of the bridge in front of you.  This one was not a dark, scary alien, but a gold-shirted Jim Kirk, his eyes set in a glare and fists were clenched at his side as he made his way across the bridge. 

"That was stupid, really stupid." Jim mumbled as he stalked towards you, looking very angry, and it took you aback. 

"Jim-" You started. 

"So goddamn brave but so stupid." He was getting closer now and you took a step back, unsure of how to react. 

"I'm sorry." You were frozen in place.  

Jim didn't respond, instead he placed a hand on either side of your head and crushed his lips to yours in a kiss.  It took you a few seconds to react, as his action was so surprising, but you eventually leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him closer, deepening the kiss.  It was a few moments of pure bliss.  You had just beat the aliens, saved your captain and probably the entire ship, and now Jim Kirk was kissing you.  It was exhilarating.

Pulling back to breathe, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck to keep him close, his hands sliding down to your hips now.  

“Wow.” You breathed, “I should rescue you more often.”

His touched his forehead to yours, and he let an exhale out, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said and gave you another soft kiss, barely a brush of his lips against yours, “But promise me you’ll never put yourself in danger like that again.”

You could only nod and you reached up, pushing his hair back over his ear, and he closed his eyes at the touch. 

You took the opportunity to lean in and press another gentle kiss to his lips, a shiver running down your spine, which you could attribute to either the feeling of his hands on your waist or the fact that you were still soaking wet from the water from the boiler.  

“Shouldn’t you reprimand me for disobeying a direct order?” You tilted your head at him playfully. 

A smile, “We’ll talked about that later.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple and slung his arm around your shoulders, leading you across the bridge, the way he came.  

“We better go find Scotty and get him and you to the medbay.” Jim said dutifully and you gave his side a squeeze, leaning into his warmth. 

“And talk to him about how we’re going to clean up this mess.” You noted, looking out to the foot of murky brown water that covered the engineering room floor. 

Jim huffed a laugh and helped you ease down the stairs on to the next level, nearing where Scotty was.  

And in that moment, with his arm slung around your shoulders and his around your waist, you knew, with a rush of clarity, that Jim Kirk was nothing like you expected, but everything you needed. 

-Thanks for reading!  I hope you enjoyed it!-

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NOTES ON THE CHARACTERIZATION OF JIM KIRK (ignore if you wish):

I really struggled with this one for a while.  I wrote a bunch of it all at once, and it just didn’t sit right, so I left it for a while, because I dreaded going back to write it.  

But as I re-read it, I began to like it more and more, and found I really liked it.  

I feel like Jim was more TOS than AOS in this one.  For some reason I couldn’t put my thumb on AOS Jim’s character this time around, so this feels more TOS to me (even though I heartily ship TOS Spirk).  

Please let me know what you thought of his character, if it was true to him or not.  

Maybe it’s because I’ve been writing and focusing a lot more on Scotty lately, that I feel like I am losing my grip on his (and Bones’ for that matter) character, and this is me easing back into it?  I don’t know.  But I like this story even so.