Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

lathori asked: Okay, so I just saw Star Trek tonight and spent an hour talking to you about it. I literally cannot believe I am doing this. I am already suffering because of your other Star Trek headcannons but I guess I'm just a fucking masochist. So, my dear Bones, give me (at least) five headcannons on how Tarsus IV happens in the alternate new Star Trek trilogy universe. <3 Your Kirk

HA, and people say I’m the twisted one. Fortunately for you, I am a wee bit of a sadist, and I love talking about Tarsus IV, so heeeere we go.  I WAS going to do five people finding out about Tarsus, but that turned into a five thousand word monster so instead here are just some headcanons.  For those of you who aren’t aware, Tarsus was a famine and genocide, which Jim Kirk survived as a kid—basically, if you can think of a content warning, it applies, thus: everything is under the cut. 

Keep reading

kinesisboomer:

kinesisboomer:

When that friend is a wild card with headcanons and you don’t know if they’re about to share angst or fluff

(via clockwork-mockingbird)

drhanniballecter:

I relate to the phrase “chillin like a villain” because it shows that I’m calm but also ready to sin

(via lathori)

kinesisboomer:

When that friend is a wild card with headcanons and you don’t know if they’re about to share angst or fluff

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

teressabee asked: It IS a cards against Shakespeare! It's called Bards Dispense Profanity and it's awesome.

fyeahshakespeare:

percyhotspur:

costlyblood:

girlwithalessonplan:

A MIGHTY NEEEEEED

what!!

@caelidra we need this

Originally posted by memeiversaries

sociallychallengednerd:

snubbingapollo:

houndsheart:

snubbingapollo:

So, your queer history lesson for the day:

Everyone’s heard that pirate’s call each other “matey”. What you probably haven’t heard is that the word matey comes from “matelote”.

In the Caribbean this word was used between buccaneers to signify a life partner. Matelotes could inherit from each other, shared space, fought together, could speak for each other when one was incapacitated or absent, and more often than not the relationship was romantic and sexual.

That’s right folks. Pirates had a term for their gay life partners.

In light of this, I present to you a new alternative for significant other and partner. Bring back matelote.

(You can learn more about the practice of matelotage in: The Origins and Role of Same-Sex Relations in Human Societies by James Niell)

Arrr! Matelotage was such a great idea!

In an age when the English Navy ran on “rum, sodomy and the lash,” (as noted in many writings of the time), homosexual relationships were punishable by death.

The result here was that in the English Navy, relationships went underground. Very often, they became forced, often between a superior and a subordinate. When English crews went on the account, becoming pirates, they looked for a way to legitimize relationships of honest affection.
Matelotage [French; meaning ‘seamanship’] , now used as an English word, became a term for a legal marriage between two men.

[…]

In pirate society (and only pirate society) two men could “marry.” They would exchange gold rings, and pledge eternal union. After this, they were expected to share everything.  Plunder and living spaces were obvious, but couples in matelotage were also known to share other property, and even women. If one of the partners was killed in action, pirate captains were careful to make sure that the surviving member received both shares of plunder, as well as any appropriate death benefits.

Simply put, homosexual relationships had been kept under wraps by people in fear for their lives because of draconian laws. Among sailors who had practiced this form of release themselves, it lost its sense of being alien, and so became accepted and legitimized as soon as they (by turning pirate) gained the right to make their own laws. {X}

Another excellent addition!

@ragehighway

(via fozmeadows)

In the End

twistedangelsays:

Or, #Apocalypse

This is a short fiction piece inspired by this post.

#Apocalypse

It wasn’t funny.

But, then again, it kind of was.

Haley couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up in her chest even as she felt a few tears escape and streak down her dark features as she posted what would probably be her last few Instagram photos ever.

Haley wondered if things like Instagram survived the end of the world. She suspected she wouldn’t be around to find out.

She glanced around the half destroyed street. No one wanted to die alone. Yet, here she was, her ankle pinned by wreckage. Even if the creature didn’t make a second sweep, she doubted she would survive to see search and rescue teams (was that something they even did after an entire city got destroyed?)

Haley closed her eyes, pretty convinced this was it. Her friends and family weren’t responding to text message, so either they were dead already or somewhere without cell service. She was going die. She resisted the urge to look up how long it takes to die from dehydration.

That’s when her smartphone chirped.

Her eyes flew open, unlocking her screen and glancing down at the likes piling up on Instagram. Her post was getting attention, people asking if she could take any more photos. Apparently she was one of the closest people to the giant, tentacle creature rampaging through New York City.

She shook her head, scrolling through the comments. Haley almost scrolled past it, but one in all caps caught her attention.

“EYO GIRL!! WHERE YOU AT???? TOM SAYS BASED ON THE ANGLE OF YOUR PHOTOS WE ARE CLOSE BY!!!”

Keep reading

(Source: lathori)

my fever thoughts the last two days:

bogleech:

While sick in bed I kept thinking, or rather my brain kept thinking with or without my input, about the sheer overwhelming volume of fiction human beings have produced, like the number of myths, legends, novels, comics, games, movies, plays, original characters and even dreams and imaginary friends felt so vast and all encompassing that it seemed to dwarf all of our other achievements as a species and the sheer immensity and pointlessness of it all felt almost terrifying until suddenly my foggy mind was like “whoa, whoa, wait, WAIT A MINUTE….THAT’S WHAT WE ARE!!!!!! WE’RE THE STORYTELLER PLANET, THAT’S OUR THING IN THE UNIVERSE!”

So that turned into all these scenarios where for whatever reason most other sentience races could have technological power beyond our comprehension but still no knack for concocting even rudimentary child-level fiction and are so easily entertained by any shit we can make up that it’s basically our superpower

Humans end up paying their way across the galaxy just making things up as they go along and even our worst most garbage pieces of media become an almost priceless commodity.

You’re cornered by a tentareaver from the bloodstar or whatever and she’s all “SO, EARTHBEAST…TELL ME ONE OF THESE FAMOUS FICSHUNS OF YOURS AND I’LL CONSIDER SPARING YOUR LIFE”

*sigh*…okay, once upon a time there was a tentareaver…

“WAS SHE OF THE FLESHRENDER CASTE????”

….Yes, the most beautiful fleshrender in her whole clusterhive.

“TEE HEE”

(via lathori)