okay so spock (the alien in blue) essentially goes into heat. like literal heat like an animal. Anyway, spock’s in bloodlust in this episode and must go back to vulcan to have sex with his finace (or someone. but its supposed to be his fiance) or he’ll literally die. this is called pon farr and some backstory spock is half human and thought he wouldnt go through pon farr so he abandoned his HOT fiance to fuck around in space except oops pon farr happens so. he and kirk (in yellow getting his tits cut open, he’s also spocks captain and best friend) and their other friend mccoy go to vulcan so he can have sex with his fiance or get married or whatever so he doesn’t die. but then spock’s fiance (t’pring) is like no i dont want to marry spock i want to have him fight someone to death (which she can do) and spock at this point is fully in the ‘blood lust’ and is basically not in his right mind and doesnt get what’s happening. and t’pring picks kirk to be her ‘champion’ in the fight (her logic is that if spock dies in the fight she doesnt have to marry him and if kirk dies, spock will be so upset with her he won’t marry her anymore anyway). anyway kirk doesnt know that its a fight to the death and so he’s like of course i’ll do this fight if it’ll help spock and then he gets told it’s a fight to the death and he goes WHAT and right afterwards spock slices his titties open like in the gif. also eventually spock and kirk roll around in the sand and kirk fakes his death and THIS somehow knocks spock out of his blood lust and he goes back to the ship super sad bc he’s killed his ‘best friend’ only to discover kirk’s alive and we see one of his biggest smiles of the series (a big deal bc spock is vulcan and they dont show emotion). anyway this aired as the season opener in 1967. know your history and all that happy pride
So I’ve been thinking. About you – us. About the beginning. How everything could have gone so many different ways, and it didn’t. It all went the way it did, and I got to know you.
I got to marry you.
His hand moves to his chest pocket – taps it twice, over the name etched there.
because it's been one trillion years since i did one of these and because i'm actually writing fic again!! tagging friends with zero pressure and one billion love: @kkpwnall @fragilecapric0rnn @judasofsuburbia @monkleya @cheatghost @butchhorse @figthefruitfaeth @lookforanewangle @redrosydiaz @bucksgreyhairs + anyone who sees this mwah
from the black cat!eddie wip:
"Because you're the two most important friends in my life," Eddie snaps after Shannon posits for somewhere around the tenth time why, exactly, he's making such a big deal of this. "Maybe I want you to know each other."
Shannon takes a slow, deep breath and moves the small stack of plates and silverware from her lap up onto the dining table to make four settings. It's not the kind of breath that comes with pure thoughtfulness— Eddie knows her tells for sincerity better than most in this world— and neither is it unadulterated exasperation. What it is happens to be a build-up, a preparation, for the sharp and curious flit of her eyes up and down Eddie's restless body.
He turns on his heel and moves back to the kitchen instead of helping her set the table.
"I'm not saying that's, I don't know, weird," Shannon calls out, not letting him escape her scrutiny quite that easily. "But it does feel kind of… abrupt. I mean, it's not like I haven't met the guy."
Safe to say that's true, although the snark in her tone as she says it sets fire to Eddie's face to a degree he's worried she'll be able to hear from the other room. Shannon and Buck have been around each other plenty because Shannon has— however reluctantly— allowed herself to be folded into Eddie's world.
They fought about it early on the way they fought about everything early on, but she had ultimately succumbed to the realization that these people love her son and, more than that, her son loves them, and so she kind of has to know them. She has to love them. She has to, terribly enough, let them love her.
So, she's met Buck and he's met her and they get along well enough, but it's still got this distance to it that Eddie can't— he just needs them to—
"What's going on?"
"Jesus," he nearly jumps out of his skin when she speaks up, back in the kitchen but quiet under the din of the running faucet where he's washing out the skillet they used for the vegetables, now safely plated and sitting to warm in the oven.
"Wow," Shannon deadpans, eyebrows stable and stationary up high on her forehead.
"Okay."
"I mean…"
"Shannon."
"You're lying to me about something and I thought we agreed not to do that anymore," she points out. He doesn't feel accused because she's not trying to make him feel accused, but it takes some of the wind out of his sails anyway.
Eddie rinses his hands and shuts off the faucet. He sighs a gust of breath as he turns around to lean back against the sink, no doubt dampening the hem of his shirt.
"The well collapse," he starts more confidently than he's able to maintain and loses it, having to take a beat and purse his lips and start again. "I was down there, under the ground, no promise that I was going to find a way out, and I saw clear as day an outcome where I didn't."
Shannon's face, her whole body, looks suddenly younger in front of him. Her hands twist in her lap but her countenance is trembling with self-enforced stillness, like she's seventeen and trying not to cry as Eddie frantically and ineffectively tries to tell her it'll all be okay— let's get married.
"And it made me think, you know? A world without me and— and who would be the most affected by it," he goes on. "Christopher, losing a parent. And you, who I'd be leaving alone to raise him all over again. And…"
"Buck," she finishes for him, although it feels less like the continuation of Eddie's own sentiment and more like a realization all her own. She's looking at him too closely for his comfort and he has to drop his gaze to avoid the sense of scrutiny, if not actually the reality of it. "I guess I didn't realize he was so— is involved the right word?"
"He's important," Eddie says, a moment of dropped-guard before it clenches back up between the grit of his teeth. "To Christopher. They survived the— the tsunami together and— if I was gone, I would want to know that all three of you would be able to be okay because all three of you could lean, um, lean on each other."
We've already gotten 32 submissions for Getting Together Week, which is great! It does present a conundrum though: that is going to be a very long post.
How would you like the rec posts to be handled:
All in one post, no readmore, however long it may be
Thinking about a girl I grew up with who spun her dog's fur into yarn, then knitted gloves out of the yarn and how all the other kids made fun of her mercilessly for it.
And how she's now used those gloves for over thirty winters and each time she puts them on, she gets to pet her beloved dog's fur even though Ginger is long gone. And how even though her bones have long since been swallowed by the earth, Ginger is still protecting her owner from the cold.
Just an ancient pact, passed down from the earliest dogs that slept beside humans to keep us warm, continuing on for decades after one of their deaths.
we can sell that as sexy @sunflowerbuckleys - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
gummygunk
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
titsay
janainaart
origamiaround
baratheonpilled
vaporwave
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
ellievsbear
