dribbl

anonymous asked:

26 Uhura/Kirk?

how dare [you]

“Of all-“ She gets him under his arm and pulls.  “-The idiotic-“  Tugs him backwards, his boots scraping twin furrows in the dust.  “-Asinine-“ Heaves him down onto a rock.  “-Harebrained plans, Jim Kirk-“  Puts a finger in his face and those blue eyes blink up at her from beneath a crusted trickle of blood.  “-That was the most ridiculous.”

He grins.

“You could have gotten yourself killed,” she says and bats at his dirty uniform, sweat stained and stuck through with mud, a cloud of dirt billowing with each pat.

He catches her wrists in those big hands of his.

“Didn’t know you cared, Lieutenant.”

She yanks her arms back from him.  Her hands still vibrate with shape of his body beneath her palms and she folds her fingers closed, tight.

“The shuttle’s waiting,” she says and turns, a toss of her hair over her shoulder.

There’s a palm print left in the grime of his shirt.  A smudge of mud under her thumbnail.  Of course I care, she doesn’t say.

semperama  asked:

Spuhura, 29?

The first night, she doesn’t sleep.

Folds the sheet down to her waist.  Slips her foot from under it.

Twice, reaches to wipe at her upper lip.

Beside her, Spock breathes evenly, slowly.

She turns beneath the weight of his arm, first onto her side, her back fitted to the long line of him, then to stare upwards at the ceiling.

Her neck has grown damp.  Carefully, gently, she sweeps her hair from beneath her head, pushes it so it isn’t touching her skin.

“Nyota?” Spock asks.

Spock always carries tea around campus.  Brings a mug to his lectures, has a hand wrapped around it in his seminars, keeps a steaming, hot cup on his desk in his office that he laces his fingers around.  Long ago, she noticed that he rarely drinks it.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispers.  She rolls over to face him.  “I’m just fine.”

About meeting Dan & Phil

It was surreal it…really was. I’ve been watching them for so long :’) and I just wanted to write down my experience:
• It was super sunny, dan’s face looked really soft and bright o wow
• I could see his lil freckles and moles so well
• Phil’s face in the sunlight looks so sharp ? And angular? Amazing
• for some reason I couldn’t stop looking at dan’s eyebrows
• they’re bushy and small aw
• phil’s eyes under the sun are absolutely incredible and SO crystal clear dear lord
• they will hug your mum
• my dad told them I draw them and they thanked me? It’s ok guys?
• dan was wearing his weird Thermal Jacket thing
• he did peace signs and I felt obliged to join in lol
• Phil gives the best hugs the legend is true
• I got two hugs from both of them I cant
• Dan thanked me for watching their vids
• I couldn’t stop staring (lol freak) but ..srsly… it was so spontaneous I couldn’t think everything had turned to jelly
• when I saw them they were walking pretty swiftly and directly side by side
•dan’s voice is LOW
• phil’s skin is SMOOTH and v pale
• Phil said he was jet lagged
• the sunlight made them look like absolute ANGELS
• they are immensely friendly
• they are not as awkward as you think
• they’re tol but smol
• they look v different irl but not in a bad way
• sorry this is long but.. I’m very happy right now I thought this would never happen. Never lose hope folks !

anonymous asked:

kirk/uhura , 8 or 45

8: sunbathing

“Sleeping beauty,” she says and again nudges him with her toe.  It dusts sand on his bare shoulder.  “Earth to Kirk.”

“Kirk here,” he mutters and scrubs his face down into his folded arms.  “M’napping.”

“You’re burning,” she corrects and pushes at his ribs with the ball of her foot.  

He yawns and his body tightens with it, those hollows of muscle at his shoulder blades, the flex of his thighs.

She leans down and hooks a finger under the waistband of his swimsuit, lifts it, and lets it snap down.  “No sunburns allowed, Captain.”

“Bones put you up to this?” he asks and raises his head enough to squint at her.

There’s gray at his temples that was never there before.  She sighs, hands on her hips.  “He says you’re my problem now.”

He shoves his face down into his arms again, but she can still see the crinkle at the corner of his eye, that way his whole expression folds up into his grin.  She pushes her toes into his side again.  “Sit up, or I’m writing my initials with sunscreen.”

Property of, she’d add.

anonymous asked:

Spock/Uhura: 1, 3, 7, 16, 17

16: in dreams

In Vulcan, there is not a word for ‘dream’.  A physiological difference, leading to a lexical one.

In the morning, he opens his eyes to the blue light of dawn and wills away lingering images, wrests himself from the persisting twist of unbounded thought.

Despite himself, he is left with the landscape of his own consciousness varnished onto his mind, unwelcome and distracting, his concentration drawn off and away.

Across his office, his assistant taps her stylus against her mouth as she reads.

He bends further over his work.  There is no word for ‘dream’ in his language, and therefore no meaning assigned to it.  

He does not allow himself to look at her again.

anonymous asked:

Spones 15,35,47

35: filthy + 47: crave

A wet smack.  On the doctor’s lip, a smear of sauce glistens.

“Please,” Spock says and McCoy wipes his mouth on his knuckles. 

“S’good.”

“Cease,” Spock requests.  The bone of a spare rib held in his hand, McCoy inserts his forefinger into his mouth, only to withdraw it licked clean of sauce and coated now with a film of saliva.

“That is unsanitary,” Spock says.  

Indecent, Spock thinks.

McCoy sucks on his thumb.  “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”