You Let Me Fall First, Then You Dream Awake I'd Do Anything To Bring You To That Other Place We Speak

Star Trek character bio thingies

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“I like getting older. I feel like I’m finally aging into my personality.”

@ensnchekov

⸻ 𝐻𝐴𝐼𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑄𝑈𝐸𝑁𝐶𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑁.

AoS NYOTA UHURA .

𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 / 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 / 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 / 𝟤𝟣+

“Bathtubs are medieval filth cauldrons; I'm not interested in simmering in butt tea for twenty minutes.”

@morgansmornings

the enterprise senior crew at 100% power

the enterprise senior crew at 99% power

Pro-ship/anti-ship is a stupid argument and a distractor from the real issue, which is not what you write but how you write it. Writing is a form of art and a lot of art centers on drawing inspiration from real things, which yes - includes uncomfortable topics and issues. We base art and writing on our perspectives and experiences and the hard truth is that these things are not universal. Inevitably, you will come across things that are different, disturbing, and sometimes - gasp - bad. You have a choice to interact with that content or not, but policing how other people engage with it or utilize creative outlets to tell their stories, especially if they have experiences with those subjects, is neither your business nor right. On the other side of the spectrum, writing dark or uncomfortable topics is not inherently bad or morally wrong. I would argue that, when done in certain ways, doing so can start conversations about things that need to be talked about. It can bring awareness to issues. It can be used to connect to people who have experience with these sorts of subjects to bring them comfort by reminding them they’re not alone. It can even be used to normalize talking about these problems in away that prevents stigmatization and stereotyping of perpetrators or victims. Seeing things in media helps make us aware of them and helps conversations happen. The trick is that these subjects should be done in a way which does not glorify or sexualize the actions, and does not create or perpetuate stereotypes about the perpetrators/victims. The fact that this argument has been reduced to a black and white, all or nothing type issue when it is so complex is really disheartening. This idea that you have to be completely for or completely against something and take sides while completely disregarding the nuances ends up bleeding into other things and preventing us from having real conversations about problems. The RPC needs to understand that what you write is not nearly as important as how you write it. Anything can be bad if you don’t take the time properly research it and address it with the care and respect it deserves.

Ok, but what an utterly perfect reply Valentine. THIS IS AS PRECIOUS TO ME AS @brooklynislandgirl ♥️🩵♥️🩵♥️

“ 𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑫𝑶 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 ? ”

AN ANSWER FAILED HER or at least one that seemed like it would produce any sensical clarity to either of them. The question held an answer so large Nyota wasn’t sure how to respond for several long minutes. In that time, the dark from the room mirrored the darkness that lingered at the edges of her thoughts, a puzzle to carry with her from birth, to this moment, to seemingly the rest of her days.

Uhura did this on occasion; in these private, silent, and intimate spaces she held with him. Where her mind wandered to the end of the galaxy, gently pulling his hand along behind her, only to stop right at the edge where infinite darkness began.

At long last her mind pulled her back into the present reality, back inside of Spock’s quarters with a far more familiar darkness. Darkness that held no pretense, just as the man of whom she laid her body against. The resolute and unrelenting heat from all of her radiated deep into his skin as Nyota made a brief ascent upward where her head came to rest under the point of his chin.

When the words finally came to her, they came packaged inside of a query; “Spock – what do you think is out there . . . beyond the galactic wall?”

This was not the first instance in which Nyota came to her mate with this question; and very nearly each time the way it was asked, changed. The hour of day and circumstance - always different. In some instances appearing as a non-sequitur; as it did now. Conversely — there was hardly anything random in her question; a question she thought on nearly every day of since youth.

It was hardly untoward for scientists and explorers to pose alike quandaries and wonder grand, mysterious things — but it was her tone that never implied Uhura was asking for the purposes of science or exploration.

This was a secret thing she asked him — with no expectation of a specific answer, leaving it to be little more than a rhetorical question, far from direct or specific.

@fasciinating

Her fingers smooth down the midnight hair covering Spock’s chest while her voice breaks through the silence of his bedroom — “ . . . are you sleeping?”

                                        IN THE DARK, HE SNAPS ALERT at the touch of Nyota’s slender fingers, long and ruminating across bare skin and the steady heart beat drumming under his ribs. Parsing a quick mental check, his internal time sense tells him that it is close to oh two hundred, the room dim with only the silhouette of her face.

Blinking slowly, he looks down at her.

“ Negative, ” or not anymore, but catching the smooth glide of her hand, Spock attempts to convey through the haziness of sleep that he has no complaints. He shifts slightly, careful not to jostle or deter her gestures — he desires it, contact, when they are alone like this — pinning their hands on his chest.

“ What do you need? ”

@haiiling

The Ships by Darry Fletcher

Uhura trying to be normal & Pav just like “I’m tired.”

@ensnchekov

🧍‍♂️