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Title: With what we have (snippet)
Fandom: ST:XI
Rating: If this were a complete fic, I would foresee it as being around PG-13 level.
Genre: Gen, genderswap
Notes: This is an idea for a beginning of a genderswap ST fic with an alwaysagirl!Kirk. I really don't know if I want to keep finishing it. I've got scenarios in my mind that would be cool to write, but... idk. Not sure how I feel about writing genderswap, but when I started writing one night, this is what came out--and who am I to deny my muse? So let me know what you think--yay, nay, ew, etc. At some moments I see this as being girl!Kirk/McCoy, but at other times I see it as being gen. So... yeah.
Disclaimer: Title from One Republic's "Marching On" and I've never owned Star Trek.
It should start like this: bourbon-drunk man meets punch-drunk woman; man expresses his extreme discomfort with flying in the form of vomit all over woman’s lap; woman leaves shuttle and never talks to man again.
Instead, it goes like this: Leonard H. McCoy stumbles onto a shuttle, reeking of bourbon and bitterness and body odor, and ends up in a seat next to James T. Kirk, who smells of sweat and blood and jasmine soap; Leonard throws up in Jamie’s lap when the craft experiences a bit of turbulence over Colorado; Jamie laughs and says it’s a good thing Starfleet’s footing her wardrobe bill for the next few years as she rubs the area between Leonard’s shoulder blades soothingly like it’s her duty to make him feel better.
When the shuttle lands in San Francisco, Jamie pulls one of Leonard’s arms across her shoulders and helps him out of the shuttle, as though they’re longtime friends helping each other out instead of barely-more-than-strangers who met an hour ago.
It starts like this: She calls him Bones, he calls her Jim. Lost souls, the both of them, bound together by misery, new names, and something neither of them knows how to label. But whatever that something is, Jamie slurs later that night when they’re both more than a little drunk, it’s going to be one hell of a ride.
And even though he’s known Jim less than twelve hours by this point, Bones agrees with her one hundred percent.
End snippet
Fandom: ST:XI
Rating: If this were a complete fic, I would foresee it as being around PG-13 level.
Genre: Gen, genderswap
Notes: This is an idea for a beginning of a genderswap ST fic with an alwaysagirl!Kirk. I really don't know if I want to keep finishing it. I've got scenarios in my mind that would be cool to write, but... idk. Not sure how I feel about writing genderswap, but when I started writing one night, this is what came out--and who am I to deny my muse? So let me know what you think--yay, nay, ew, etc. At some moments I see this as being girl!Kirk/McCoy, but at other times I see it as being gen. So... yeah.
Disclaimer: Title from One Republic's "Marching On" and I've never owned Star Trek.
It should start like this: bourbon-drunk man meets punch-drunk woman; man expresses his extreme discomfort with flying in the form of vomit all over woman’s lap; woman leaves shuttle and never talks to man again.
Instead, it goes like this: Leonard H. McCoy stumbles onto a shuttle, reeking of bourbon and bitterness and body odor, and ends up in a seat next to James T. Kirk, who smells of sweat and blood and jasmine soap; Leonard throws up in Jamie’s lap when the craft experiences a bit of turbulence over Colorado; Jamie laughs and says it’s a good thing Starfleet’s footing her wardrobe bill for the next few years as she rubs the area between Leonard’s shoulder blades soothingly like it’s her duty to make him feel better.
When the shuttle lands in San Francisco, Jamie pulls one of Leonard’s arms across her shoulders and helps him out of the shuttle, as though they’re longtime friends helping each other out instead of barely-more-than-strangers who met an hour ago.
It starts like this: She calls him Bones, he calls her Jim. Lost souls, the both of them, bound together by misery, new names, and something neither of them knows how to label. But whatever that something is, Jamie slurs later that night when they’re both more than a little drunk, it’s going to be one hell of a ride.
And even though he’s known Jim less than twelve hours by this point, Bones agrees with her one hundred percent.
End snippet
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