Tori 💫
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spocklovemail.bsky.social
Tori 💫
@spocklovemail.bsky.social
110 followers 98 following 650 posts
31yo married lesbian obsessed with Spock (and Spirk) ⭐️ watching all Trek for the first time from the beginning ⭐️ nsfw at times ⭐️ I write fanfic! ⭐️ currently watching: TNG
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spocklovemail.bsky.social
I wrote a couple Spones poems for the We Go Together NSFW Mirrorverse zine! Please enjoy them. They can be read on AO3 here: archiveofourown.org/works/738314...
A poem titled "The Hunt" by Spock Lovemail, written from Mirror Spock's POV for the We Go Together Spones zine: Five splayed fingertips reach for the only parts of your face that you will allow my hands to touch. When they connect a cold ocean wave devours my chest shrouding it in an icy cloak of your madness. The shock of your mind is a lightning strike over troubled seas resistance and fear and total surrender. The steady pulse of my pelvis forms the drumbeat that melts the glacier over the valves of your heart. A sharp gasp, then: stuttering hips rolling eyes trembling lips and an arching back form the cascade of your climax— which roars through me like infernos like hurricanes like thunderstorms like phaser fire until your body stills as though in death. And it’s just as well, to find you pliant and wanting thrusting into the trap that bites your wrist. It’s just as well to know that I can kill you when the spring snaps shut. "The Butterfly" by Spock Lovemail, a poem from Mirror McCoy's POV for We Go Together Spones zine: You are careless in the pursuit of your pleasure power incarnate the predator And I slip from the trap that you laid me a cunning fox your clever prey I gasp— and the rising tide of orgasm licks the marrow of my bones cutting my flesh and flaying it open and bleeding until the drops of my lifeblood fall from your jeweled knife held too close to the meat of my thigh. You, so very blind, lick the remnants from your blade a genius playing guard dog to a Captain who does not want you; to a Captain who does not fear you; and when you come tumbling down, when the Captain’s inattention stings, when the curse of your subordination drowns you, when it cuts you like a knife, I will be here, the butterflied flesh spread open and waiting to devour you whole.
November 7, 2025 at 5:09 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Your fat lesbian queen Mrs. Tori face reveal incoming‼️🚨🚨

I went to the Star Trek Original Series set tour w some wonderful friends and it was sooooo fucking cute y’all. I was geeking tf out lmao. Here are some pics of me there 🫶
Me in Kirk’s quarters at his funky lil table! The little gold box on the shelf behind me was screen used! I think this one was the auxiliary control room but I’m not 100% sure lol I’m at a console that had a view screen in front of me! Me miming climbing up the ladder in the engineering room in front of the warp core in cool blue and red lighting Me sitting in the captain’s chair!!
October 13, 2025 at 3:21 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
IM SO PROUD OF UUUUU
Two kittens- one is hugging the other
October 1, 2025 at 4:09 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
"Halfway," a poem about The Motion Picture- specifically, Spock's revenge dress dramatic entrance on the bridge, from Kirk's POV.

AO3 link: archiveofourown.org/works/70364771
A screenshot of "Halfway" by Spock Lovemail: "stitched into the lapel of your stiff collared robes is damnation, a response— to the call that I have unknowingly made directly into the wrinkle of our parallel minds. It says that I have never known well enough to touch you here, at the center of you— the calligraphy curling in words too beautiful to read in my unpracticed tongue. It says that I have never even met you halfway. You have stood there at the telephone booth of my ancestors, your hand poised over the rotary dial, waiting for the number that leads to my heart. And God forgive me— I have never given you the right combination that would ring for me."
September 5, 2025 at 6:41 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Oops forgot alt text
Dog with a bib with an edited quote that says “waiter! Waiter! More Spock whimpering please!”
August 27, 2025 at 7:21 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
No new pictures; where are you at mentally?
Kirk is in the midst of a breakdown: the subtitle reads “[sobs commandingly]”
August 26, 2025 at 6:20 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Us fr
Meme image of a zoomed in picture of the OK hand emoji, with the tiny space between the thumb and pointer finger circled. Edited text says, “I’m this close to cryinf my fuckifng eyes out” (misspellings kept to maintain the integrity of the meme).
August 15, 2025 at 2:26 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Ooohhhhh I’m definitely not tearing up on my break at work oooohh I’m such a professional
Pam from the office crying at her desk. The caption reads, “[sniffles, cries]”
August 15, 2025 at 12:09 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
OH FUCK
Guy Fieri collage of him making various faces with “flavortown” written across the bottom. The most prominent face looked a little orgasmic to me so I’m using it in this context lol
August 5, 2025 at 4:42 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
"Apoptosis," a WOK/SFS #spirk poem I did as a little warmup today. Also, I'd like to say thank you to those who read for always being so kind about my poems! It's forever a joy to share them. ❤️
A screenshot of the poem "Apoptosis" by Spock Lovemail. "When I left you, which I cannot regret— the cells of my body slowed until bursting; my blood cells lysed and spilled their contents into my veins which could not serve my starving organs. Just as my cells knew that their time had come and promptly killed themselves, my mind knew that I could have programmed no greater deadly purpose than to ensure your life. Later, when you once again find me, my cells will remember and tremble with the urgency of quicksilver to reclaim your name before they surrender to a gentle demise guarded only by a quiet love in a pair of chiffon curtains; ruffling open, revealed to me only in death."
August 4, 2025 at 2:25 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
"They called us gods," a #spirk poem ❤️ Feels like I haven't shared a poem in a long time!
Screenshot of the poem, "They called us gods." You tilted your head and said, “Gods, Captain?” but I was not listening— instead watching the sunlight filter through the point of your ear a simmering sienna orange gold in the delicate curl of its shell. I was staring into the coffee-black iris of your curious eye, the lights behind me glittering where dark brown met the black of your pupil, a near enough color to miss that I would weep to be ignorant of it. Yes, I was reading the stars in the pockmarks of your skin, tracing the well-trodden road from your cheek to your lips, devouring the breath as it left your lungs and entered mine. And I told you, “A misconception,” and you told me, “Of course,” and I could see you looking at me with the same reverence afforded to gods and lovers alone.
July 26, 2025 at 6:52 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Now I present, my entry for Spirk in a Cave:

Bad Things Come in Threes - in which Spock gets stuck in a wall, and Kirk takes full advantage of it.

Link: archiveofourown.org/works/67811936
Title page for the collaboration between Spock Lovemail and lichqueenlibrarian, "Bad Things Come in Threes." The summary is as follows: Spock conducted a quiet, unspoken experiment by leaning closer to the crystals nearest to him, and the arousal in him hummed even louder in sexual resonance. He decided it was irritating, but otherwise ignorable. That is, until now, with the front half of him caught in a freezing cold crevice, and the bottom half of him on his knees outside of it. Caught in a cave-in, Kirk decides to take advantage of Spock's compromising position. Collab with lichqueenlibrarian (artist) for the Spirk in a Cave event! PWP." The tags for "Bad Things Come in Threes." Notable tags include: sex in a cave, stuck in a wall, plot what plot/porn without plot, sensory deprivation, bottom spock/top kirk, and breeding kink (as a treat).
July 20, 2025 at 2:30 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
omg I think I forgot to share on here that I started writing a Spones fic!! Sorry for writing Spones, the idea kind of bit me in the ass and wouldn't leave me alone lol.

"A Floating Spar" -it boils down to: Spones spockpreg, get your Spones spockpreg here~!
Link: archiveofourown.org/works/667245...
The title and Summary of "A Floating Spar" by Spock Lovemail. The summary reads: "This is how it goes: they get on each other’s nerves, McCoy takes Spock for a spin in his quarters, and they return to business as usual on the Enterprise. McCoy keeps the med bay functioning, and Spock does—whatever it is that First Officers do. They don’t talk about work (or much of anything) much, once McCoy gets his hands on Spock behind closed doors. The most important thing that McCoy tells himself, though, is that Spock isn’t his. He’s never been his—he’s Jim’s, at the end of the day. They’re the happy ending everyone’s rooting for. He’s just a bit selfish, reaping the benefits of their occasional break ups. But that’s not really it, is it? - When McCoy conducts a routine scan on Spock after an away mission, McCoy discovers a big surprise." The tags for "A Floating Spar," most notably: explicit, star trek: Alternate Original Series, leonard "bones" mccoy/spock, unplanned male pregnancy, past james t kirk/spock, "spock and mccoy have a situationship in the purest sense of the term," bottom spock/top leonard "bones" mccoy, and jealous james t kirk.
July 3, 2025 at 2:03 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
I laughed when I stumbled upon this which was posted literally 5 days before she outed herself as a TERF and had a tantrum so bad she made a post about not being able to handle it that got 0 notes lol. Couldn't take the heat when push came to shove!!
A tumblr post by gracefulblabber (the TERF this post is about) that says, "I want to start talking to people I disagree with, echo chambers and hug boxes are BORING"
June 25, 2025 at 2:12 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Current emotional state
An edit of a meme with a guy looking wistfully at a picture of William Shatner Kirk edited over the original. The text is also edited and reads “Oh Captain Kirk we’re really in it now.”
June 19, 2025 at 4:37 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
"Infinity"

A vaguely #spirk poem that can be read in a loop, left to right, or really, whatever way you want. The top and bottom lines are written with the ability for them to "double back" on themselves, thus completing the infinite loop. The alt text gives one method of reading it. Try it out!
"Infinity," a poem by Spock Lovemail. The poem is formatted such that you can read it in several different ways and orders, but it is in the general shape of an infinity symbol. One way, and perhaps the most fun way, to read it is as follows (following the shape of the loop, from the top left): "in this angled, perfect, looping perception of us; in the colorful, singing, smiling, laughing living in us, notched, trembling souls; an errant, flecked, flicker of gold; and melting into the conglomerate of our intertwined, dripping selves a singular sort of being--a marriage, a bond; melting into the conglomerate of our intertwined, dripping selves you breathe floating unmarked and territorial, arrow that is poised to strike the center of me, cry made infinite, the mirrored arrow that is poised to strike the center of me, notched, trembling souls; an errant, flecked, flicker of gold, and within the fractals of your whiskey honey eyes, a reimagining, of the color somwhere just beyond you; within the fractals of your whiskey honey eyes, a reimagining, loosed eyelash; neck extended; there exists: a never-ending perception of us; in the colorful, singing, smiling, laughing in this angled, perfect, looping perception of us;" and repeat!
May 24, 2025 at 6:36 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
I finished my little monster of a #spirk fic, "My Hand to Yours" today!!! I've been quietly working on this fic for about six months now, so I am so thrilled to have finished it. Please enjoy it if you give it a read!

Link: archiveofourown.org/works/613668...
A screencap of the title and summary of the fanfiction "My Hand to Yours," written by Spock Lovemail (me!). The summary reads as follows: "Spock begins to pace. The anxious energy coming off of him is enough to make Jim nervous, and he reaches out to stop him, their hands connecting for just a moment. It’s long enough. All at once, a flood of emotions comes pouring off Spock and into Jim via his hand. He is worried, chiefly, then saddened. Lonely. Spock is fond of him, which Jim already knew. But there is something else, something cloying in the back of it all that’s hard to interpret. “Spock, what are you saying?” he asks quietly. Spock freezes, bringing his sensitive hands to his stomach and clenching them together as if he could hold back their overwhelming sensitivity. Then he walks past Jim, reaches for the door handle, and turns the lock. Jim Kirk, with ambitions of Starfleet captaincy on his mind, has no room for failure. Unfortunately, he finds himself stuck in a class with Professor Spock, one of the most ruthless professors at his university. But after he graduates, Jim can't help but feel like he's leaving an important person behind. Tensions rise, passions grow, and Jim and Spock are captured by forbidden feelings that they can't help but feel. AU, with some nods to canon sprinkled in." A screenshot of the tags and categories for the fanfiction, My Hand to Yours. The rating is explicit, with an archive warning for graphic depictions of violence. It is tagged for James T. Kirk/Spock and James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy (minor). Other relevant tags include teacher-student relationship, angst with a happy ending, mildly dubious consent, and Vulcan bond/T'hy'la.
May 12, 2025 at 2:23 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
"The Lovers," a #spirk poem about holding hands in the shape of hands holding (and making the shape of a heart). Read right to left. Only Spock could make holding hands so erotic and romantic, lol. ❤️
A screenshot of "The Lovers," a spirk poem about touching hands. The poem is formatted in the shape of two hands meeting to create a heart in the middle. The text in legible for a reader format is as follows: My wrist to your wrist, my fingerprint to your fingerprint; our hands do thus intertwine, your mind to my mind, your thoughts to my thoughts, my hand to yours. In the tiny zap of independent thought made similar and the same, we grow in tandem, twin seats on a bicycle, the pull of gravity between binary stars. And in the chance meeting of our bodies in the holding of your hand, I find our purpose to be so self-evident as to become an inescapable truth—that we should be fated to meet and our bodies should mesh in the care- -ful reimagining of the self. Hurry, now, hurry—we haven’t much time. Our melding is nearly done darling, my body to your body, the tender reimagining of what makes a body yours, what makes a body mine. There, that’s it—the skin that touches your skin, the Human warmth that touches the cold body of the Vulcan, the hot skin of a Human palm to my palm. There, yes, yes, my love, oh, oh how the lines in our hands do speak of forever,how they promise a life long and prosperous,your veins a laugh line I’ll not pronounce, for fear that your laugh might end. Touch my hand, dear love. My fingers to yours, our splayed open touch the undoing of me.
May 8, 2025 at 8:12 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
"Seven Hundred Twenty-Six," a visual poem about #spirk in The Motion Picture. I was given the prompt "sand." The shape of this poem has two meanings- the overall poem has the general shape of an hourglass, and the top half of said hourglass resembles the blade of a Vulcan lirpa.
A screenshot of the poem, "Seven Hundred Twenty-Six." Seven Hundred Twenty-Six grains of reddish sand funnel through the tiny glass canal between before and after, between past and future. In the slender neck that squeezes those bulbs near-shut, a single grain will float in the now. And in that now, in that desperate waiting made softer, I will confess my failures to you, dear lover. The glorious victories which I was never meant to know will scream triumphant in the sound of sixty seconds. The shifting of these sands, from Vulcan’s desert to this glass case, repeats and repeats and repeats with every axis turn. You need only turn the hourglass, my love. You need only say my name. The bridge will hear it, whispered slow, and I will come back, my love. Scorned and sharp, but I will come back for you.
May 4, 2025 at 4:52 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
“The Renewal of our Vows in Riverside, Iowa,” a poem for old married #spirk in a world where nothing bad happens to them ever again 😌❤️
A screenshot of the poem, “The Renewal of our Vows in Riverside, Iowa” by Spock Lovemail (me!). In the stillness of Summer dusk, the flick’ring fireflies glowed— their little lights mooning, slumb’ring flora flown below, the petals soft with sleep and closed to me. I, entranced, did caress, careless, the bulbs of those wild roses— the flower of my state here dozes, the homecoming of my heart in its five-petal’d envelope. I caressed, and yet, they cannot compare to you, my gentle lover. Though soft their silk skins slip’d between my thumb and finger tips, I found the slopes of you— the creases, craters, cracks of you— the breath of angels made bigger on Earth’s plains and smaller by you. The hum of our starship home’s vicious engines, the thrum of her many voices, did cloy and claw at the doors we employed to close behind our writhing backs, fingers press’d to breathless skin. Beneath fingerprints my cheek was etched in the searching lurch of our melding minds, made sweeter with the joining our body finds— our duties shed, our lovely depths leveled by the languid language of love. In this old home, its creaking walls cocooned our joyous pleasures, too. Outside, the fleeting fireflies flickered, and in this coveted coupling renewed the vows of our youth, too vivid to occlude.
May 1, 2025 at 9:15 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
"Mother," a poem from Spock to his mother, Amanda. Based around the prompt, "sharing an umbrella."

Not sure if it fits with some of my other poems so I'm debating adding it to my AO3 docs, but I'd like to share it here at least. 💚❤️

#spock
A poem as described in the text of this post, titled, "Mother." A parasol is: a lightweight umbrella used as a sunshade; or this is what the dictionary which sits upon your bookshelf would lead me to believe. A lightweight umbrella— or, the dappled tiny suns that break past a lace trim, warming the pin pricked ivory of your apple-flushed skin. Used as a sunshade— or, wielded as a makeshift weapon, the button pushed to frighten the wild le-matya which threatens us both on our afternoon stroll. We run for the edge of the city to escape its gaping maw, the parasol discarded on the sands of the unrelenting desert. We run; you do not let go of my small hand. And when I am old enough, when I return to this home twenty years after I’ve left it, I bring you a white lace parasol, and you laugh, apple-flushed, pin pricked.
April 23, 2025 at 5:56 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
I participated in a special #spirk Poetry Bingo project with a bunch of really talented writers and filkers from the Kiscon community!
archiveofourown.org/works/647157...

Never and Always (Touching and Touched) - a collection of spirk-related poems (will continue to be updated!)
April 23, 2025 at 5:33 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
I’m obsessed with him and his beautiful glittering eyes and his cutieful curly ears ☹️☹️
A closeup picture of Leonard Nimoy as Spock. He has a somewhat disbelieving and teasing expression, with both his brows raised and a very slight maybe-smile (the one he excels at). His ear look particularly curly and cutieful.
April 16, 2025 at 12:14 PM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Just posted a 2nd person fanfiction in which YOU are Spock!

"The Scientist"
An exploration of Spock, his inner thoughts, and his relationship with Jim Kirk, as told in second person.
#spirk
Read it here: archiveofourown.org/works/64463983
A screenshot of the title and summary of the fanfiction "The Scientist" by me, Spock Lovemail. The Summary reads, "You do not remember this part, but you are two minutes old. After being pulled away from your mother’s exhausted, trembling body, you are handed to your father. He looks upon you with a storm in his eyes, disturbed and filled with conflicted turmoil. “So human,” he says, and it is not a compliment. You are a baby. You have nothing to say to him, but you cry regardless. You are returned to your mother’s arms, the blood and fluids still smeared over your skin, the delicate curl of your ears a glaring sign of just how inhuman you are. Neither human nor Vulcan, you are made to feel your father’s disgrace and your mother’s love through your undisciplined telepathic connections. You will not understand these feelings for several years, but they are your beginning. You have no choice but to accept them for what they are. - An exploration of Spock, his inner thoughts, and his relationship with Jim Kirk, as told in second person."
April 6, 2025 at 4:59 AM
spocklovemail.bsky.social
Finishing one sad fic to find another sad fic on a silver platter? Don’t mind if I do!!
April 5, 2025 at 2:26 AM