#Star Trek drabble

[marlinspirkhall]

Sometimes, Kirk wakes up in the middle of the night with the words in his head, heart pounding, but never too fast.

The same words:

“Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony.”

Spock lies mere meters away, on the other side of the wall, but his appearance would require an explanation.

How can you talk about it, when your own survival relies on not being a burden?

“Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society.”

He closes his eyes, breathes, and waits for the palpations to stop.

Survival depends on drastic measures.

[teacup-gathering-itself]

James “unfathomable number of allergies and frankly astonishing number of recessive traits” Kirk is visually interesting to Spock especially when compared to the other humans around; of course he subconsciously keeps sliding his gaze over to the captain. He’s also directly under his command, his attention should veer to Kirk as opposed to anyone else on board. It’s just his mind logically choosing who to defer to and who likely will need his attention most urgently. It’s his job, and he’s excellent at this job. That’s all it is. A logical conclusion regarding a noted pattern.

It’s definitely not got anything to do with the way his barely-in-regulation uniform frames his body, or the physique he maintains, or the devastating silhouette he cuts, or the charisma he exudes, or his illogical approach to life that somehow still works, or his exceptionally emotive voice that fills a room effortlessly, or his sheer brilliance and masterful grasp of complex mathematical and scientific concepts, or anything of that sort. Of course not. That would be illogical. And Spock is a being who is rooted in logical above all else.

[strangenewheadcanons]

“Hey, Jim?” Sam asks. Jim can feel his apprehension and raises his brow.

“Yeah?” He responds.

Sam swallows with a minuscule nod of his head. “I love you.”

A public display of affection is rare for Sam and it genuinely touches Jim. He offers him a little smile.

But he’s still Sam’s little brother after all. “Engage.”

Jim disappears in a flash of light, leaving a steaming Sam in his wake. “That little shit didn’t even say it back!”

[revolutionsoftheheart]

Trust - A Star Trek: Picard drabble

“Commander Seven of Nine to Admiral Janeway.”

A spread of photon torpedoes hits the Titan. Seven grasps onto the armrests of the Captain’s chair as she’s jolted around.

“Hold position!” she orders. They need an ally on the inside, someone with the power to disable the compromised fleet. “Seven to Janeway. Please respond.”

Finally, the Admiral’s face lights up the broken viewscreen.

Alive. Uninjured.

Seven catches her breath. Hope swells inside her chest.

Their eyes lock over subspace. Janeway remains stern as she takes in the damage on the bridge of the Titan. Seven stands, walking towards the viewscreen.

“Scorpion.”

[anewstartrekfan]

Star Trek Drabble: The Equirria

I just watched Redline for the first time in years and gonna steal a concept from it for a tos premise.

Anyway idea.

There’s an illegal space race called the Equirria that’s held annually. The federation usually lets it happen cuz its too much trouble to try and stop it since the course changes each time. However this year their intel heard that part of the race would go through the neutral zone. Unfortunately further attempts to gather details like what the course is even gonna be come up dry.

So Kirk, Spock, and Scotty are tasked with infiltrating the race, figuring out the route, and if possible, stopping it before it happens. As a backup, the Enterprise and other federation ships are on high alert on the boarder to the neutral zone as the race occurs.

The twist is that the Romulans had infiltrated the race’s organizers and set the finish line to be the boarder into the neutral zone in an attempt to give an excuse to reignite war with the federation.

After some Hijinks I haven’t come up with yet Kirk and the gang manage to get all the racers to stop except for one team, a group of Klingons.

They’re the ones that cross the neutral zone and while they win the race, they also end up either captured or destroyed by Romulans. Causing an incident like the Romulans planned, but with the Klingon empire rather than their mutual enemy, the federation.

Anyway anyone who reads this let me know what you think. May turn into a full story. Or may not. Depends on my mood.

[the-cosmic-creature]

i think star trek will stay with me forever.

it has injected me with a permanent joy and whimsy and helped me unlearn shame/cringe culture. most importantly, it makes me see the good in humanity.

star trek has affected me in ways i never knew media could affect me. it keeps me optimistic about humanity’s future, and inspires me to do what is right no matter what. star trek makes me unashamed to be myself, however nerdy or silly I may be.

star trek is so important to me and i have a feeling it always will be.

[fetch-those-damned-bolt-cutters]

You think you can hurt me? I write star trek fanfiction knowing absolutely nothing about the medical and scientific fields

[ifdragonscouldtalk]

"Commander Spock!"

"Cadet Kirk," Spock acknowledged as he turned, watching him drag his friend closer by force, grinning and waving with his free hand. Spock wasn't sure whether he liked Kirk or not yet, but Kirk had certainly decided that he liked Spock, and given they were both proteges of Captain Pike, they saw each other fairly often.

"Hey, it's great I ran into you! Chris wanted me to-"

When Spock turned to look at the friend Kirk had dragged with him, likely the infamous 'Bones', all other sensory input stopped. It was like electroshock to the brain, lighting up his bonding center and making his skin tingle, and the longer the man met his eyes the more breathless he felt. This was his intended, his one true love as his Mother had always described. He could taste it in the air. He was so absorbed in the beauty of the man's eyes that he hardly noticed the deepening scowl on his lips.

"Jim," he interrupted breathlessly, both the tone and the first use of his casual name stopping the exuberant cadet in his tracks, "who is your friend?"

He could barely see Kirk's smirk out of the corner of his eye. "This? This is my boyfriend, Bones."

The man broke eye contact with Spock to glare at Jim, and Spock had to blink several times to catch his bearings. "I told you to stop telling everyone I'm your boyfriend. We ain't dating! And my name ain't Bones."

"Is your boyfriend single?" Spock asked, glancing at Jim and feeling somewhat like a slavering dog, begging for a meal.

"Uhm," Jim responded, and then burst out laughing, while Bones caught his eye again with a bewildered look, exclaiming "What?"

How did Humans do this again?

Spock dropped down to his knees, then frowned at himself. "I do not have a ring. I know it is traditional. I will acquire you a ring. Will you marry me?"

Bones said nothing, staring in abject shock. It was true this was fast even for Vulcans. Several moments to process would be acceptable. "Is that Commander Spock? What is he doing?" he heard another cadet nearby mutter, but paid it no mind.

Through hysterical laughter, Jim managed to choke out, "Has he lost his fucking mind? Spock, are you sick?"

"Oh Christ!" Bones muttered, yanking a tricorder out of his bag to scan him. Of course, he was a doctor. A perfect profession to be his lifemate and challenge him intellectually, and to ensure his fragile health as a hybrid. Destiny and fate perhaps did exist.

"You need time to think," Spock said, rising smoothly to his feet once more. "I will acquire a ring. Rings are traditional."

"He doesn't like rings," Jim said, laughter gone and now starting to look worried.

"A necklace then! Perhaps vokaya," Spock said happily. "A necklace is traditional for Vulcan engagements. This is acceptable."

"Commander, do you even know his name?"

Spock blinked, looking between the two momentarily, entranced by the cute, concerned furrow between Bones' brow. "Bones. He is your boyfriend."

"Uh. No and no," Bones said, glaring at the results on the tricorder. "Dammit, these readings are all out of whack, Jim!"

"Chris says that's normal," Jim replied, though he looked worried. "Spock, I was joking. He's not my boyfriend, he's just my roommate. And his name is Leonard."

"McCoy," Leonard added gruffly, running another tricorder scan.

"Leonard McCoy," Spock almost sighed, tasting the name of his beloved on his tongue and feeling inordinately like his mother. He was unsure why they both looked so alarmed. "Then your boyfriend is single, Jim?"

"Uh yeah, 'cause he's not my boyfriend."

"Don't encourage his delusion!" Leonard snapped. "He's way too young for Bendii, and I'd swear Vulcans aren't prone to delusions or hallucinations-"

"You need time to think," Spock said. "You are both worried. I am of sound mind. I will go locate an appropriate necklace and come back to properly propose, Leonard."

"Commander, wait-!"

[spirk-trek]

For the fic prompt thing: how about Spock coming out as gay/bi/ace to a pining Jim (who thinks that Spock is straight)?

Merry writing!!!🖖

hello my darling anon! thank you for the request :) this one is very short and sweet. i like to think spock assumes everyone already knows, so he doesn't expect it to matter. i hope you enjoy!

quick side note to the anon who requested genius!jim... i started writing it, hated it, started again, then watched a documentary that made me change the entire plot but it's turning into one of my favorite little creations ever. thank you (and all the others too) for your patience <3

without further ado, let's get spock out of the closet!

(or read here on ao3 if you prefer)

~*~*~*~*~

"Please, Jim. Spock n’ I here are the only ones who know a thing about exes."

Jim, McCoy, and Spock sat around the Captain’s desk in his quarters, enjoying a particularly potent blend of top-shelf beverages. At least, the two humans partook. Spock held onto a mug of tea himself, sipping steadily while Jim continued to tip a vibrant green liquid past his lips. He raised an angled brow at the doctor’s statement.

"Doctor?"

"Well,” he leaned forward, elbows resting on the surface before him, inadvertently nudging a nearby plant dangerously close to the edge. “That T'pring didn't exactly treat you to the warmest welcome, did she?"

"I have exes, Bones,” Jim chimed in, delayed by his moderate intoxication. He reached out to push the plant back to a more sturdy position before Spock could do so, rubbing one of its leaves between his fingers briefly.

“Yeah, but the ones you do got ‘re angels.” McCoy jabbed a finger into the space between them. “Not to mention, they’d all take you back ‘n a heartbeat if you asked. You know I’m right.”

Jim hummed, bobbing his head in consideration and tracing a circle around the edge of his glass. 

“Not Gary."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Gary’s dead."

"He's still my ex, no?” He picked up his glass again but did not drink from it. 

"And T'Pring is Spock's." The doctor turned his attention back to the science officer, a smile on his face Spock couldn’t discern a reason for. He set his mug down on the desk and clasped his hands together.

"T’Pring was correct in her assessment that our bond would not amount to what she is likely to achieve with Stonn. Her actions were logical."

"Oh, c’mon now.” McCoy waved a hand. “Logic. She'd’ve been lucky to have you."

"I continue to resist belief in the concept of luck, doctor."

Jim leaned closer then, brushing their shoulders together. Spock turned to address him, watching as a warm expression reached his eyes, flecks of soft pink light reflecting back from golden depths.

“I’ll convince you yet,” he murmured. Spock’s mind went blank in its attempt to formulate a response, making it a relief when the doctor cleared his throat. 

He shifted back, centering his posture. “Regardless, Captain.” 

“Jim,” he corrected. “Off duty, remember?”

He touched his glass to his lips but still did not drink. 

“Regardless, Jim.” In his peripheral vision, Spock saw McCoy finish his own drink in one swallow. “You misunderstand my meaning.”

“Then what did you mean?” The doctor’s voice was harsh from the burn of alcohol, blue eyes narrowed.

“I am not interested in sharing a life with her on Vulcan, as my home is no longer there.” 

Jim had propped his head against his hand, swirling his last dregs of green lazily with the other, waiting for him to say more.

“Of course, the issue is compounded by my lack of attraction to females.”

The glass slipped from Jim’s fingers, shattering against the floor. Spock raised both brows as the man then raised his hand toward McCoy and shushed him loudly.

“I didn't say anything!”

Jim leaned in toward Spock with urgency, nearly slipping off his chair in the process. Their knees touched, broken glass forgotten below them.

“Lack of... attraction?" He repeated. Spock noted a change in color to his cheeks, deepening beyond the usual pigment caused by alcohol consumption. 

“To females.” 

Spock nodded.

“Explain.”

“They do not arouse me,” he answered simply.

“Well, would you look at that?” McCoy was looking down into his empty glass. “I need another drink.”

“But, Spock.” Jim reached out for his shoulder as if the interruption had not occurred, grasping tightly to regain his attention. Spock raised a brow.

"Men." He whispered the word as if it contained some sort of secret. “Do they-”

McCoy turned from where he’d crossed the room to retrieve the bottle of brandy. Apparently too quickly, as his steps stuttered sideways.

"Jim!"

Jim’s hand on Spock’s shoulder jumped away, though he pulled his eyes away with significantly more difficulty.

"What?"

"You can't just-"

Spock interrupted. "It is a logical question."

"See?” Jim was smiling brightly when he turned back toward him. “He thinks I'm logical."

"Yeah, well, I think you're both stupid."

Spock crossed his arms over his chest, but Jim ignored the insult. He attempted not to notice the anticipation behind his expression, the way it pulled at him, made him consider reaching out as Jim so often did.

"Well, Mr. Spock?"

Spock blinked. "Males are, indeed, of primary interest to me."

"That's a whole lotta words to say you're gay."

McCoy had leaned back against the partition, glass to his lips. Jim covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, though it escaped in the form of a huff through his nose, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"I believe, gentlemen, that is my cue to take my leave."

"No!” Jim’s smile fell suddenly and he leaned back into Spock, hand reappearing at his shoulder.

“Stay? Please?”

He swallowed, blinking slowly. Spock was all too aware of the four centimeters his hand slipped down his arm before his grip tightened to stop it, as well as the six centimeter decrease in space between their faces. 

“You haven’t even finished your tea, after all.”

This was a correct statement. Jim’s hand slipped another two centimeters lower.

“Yeah, Spock. Stay,” McCoy encouraged, downing the rest of his drink once again. “I’m leaving.”

Spock only briefly glanced at him before looking back at Jim. 

“Very well, Captain. If you wish me to remain.”

“Jim, Spock. Jim. And yes. I do.”

[illegalpaladin]

Drabble request: spones arguing over how to approach Jim about becoming mcspirk

Thank you for the prompt!! I am ALWAYS down for Spones arguments.

I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

“Would you stop acting like this is so goddamn simple?”

McCoy is standing next to his desk in his office. Spock stands only a few feet away. While McCoy has his arms crossed over his chest, Spock's hands are still clasped casually behind his back.

“I fail to see why you believe the situation is so complicated,” Spock says flatly.

McCoy could scream. He wants to grab Spock by the shoulders and shake him. “Because Jim is the one that pushed us together in the first place, you pointy-eared calculator!”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “Once again, I fail to see the significance.”

“Do you really not understand?” McCoy leans in closer, until he's inches away from Spock’s face. “If he wanted us that way, he would've said something then!”

Spock's eyebrow remains arched, and his head cocks slightly. He makes no effort to step away. “You have miscalculated, Leonard.”

“I haven't! We've got to play our cards right! We can't afford to mess this up!”

Spock stays calm and collected, and it's enough to make McCoy feel like he's losing his mind. “If we wish for Jim to know how we feel, Leonard,” he sighs, “we must tell him directly.”

“How you feel about what?”

McCoy's head snaps to the side, towards the doorway. Jim steps into the room, and the door slides shut behind him.

Shit.

“What must you tell me directly?”

Jim steps closer, and it takes all of McCoy's willpower to keep from stepping away.

“Nothing important,” McCoy says quickly. He feels the panic rising. “Just–”

“Leonard and I wish for you to join in our relationship,” Spock interrupts. “He insists that we must win you over. I believe a direct approach to be best.”

Silence.

McCoy feels his cheeks heating up. His heart pounds. His breaths are coming so quickly that he feels dizzy.

He gathers the courage to look at Jim just in time to see the shock on his face morph into laughter.

Jim laughs so hard he doubles over, and McCoy doesn't know what to feel when Jim wipes a tear from his eye.

“I'm afraid Spock wins the argument this time, Bones,” Jim chuckles. He straightens up, finally having composed himself enough, and looks to McCoy with a bright smile. “You’ve already won me over. I've wanted both of you for a long time.”

McCoy opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. He looks to Spock, who looks unsurprised, but McCoy can still see the flicker of joy in his features.

He turns back to Jim. “Why the hell did you set the two of us up, then?”

Jim shrugs sheepishly. “You two were so obviously enamored with each other that I figured I didn't stand a chance. But that didn't mean I didn't want you to be happy.”

McCoy's heart clenches. “Why, Jim–”

“I believe we can both agree definitively that my stance on the matter was correct.” Spock straightens up and looks to McCoy with a twinkle in his eye. “Right, Leonard?”

McCoy narrows his eyes. “You want me to admit that you were right?”

“It would only be appropriate,” Spock answers with the slightest shrug.

“He's right, Bones. It's the least you can do.”

McCoy looks to Jim to find him grinning, and McCoy scowls back. “Is this how it's gonna be now? You're gonna start taking sides?”

Jim shrugs. His eyes are bright, and McCoy has a feeling Jim couldn't stop smiling if he tried.

McCoy deflates as that same joy sweeps through his own body and the fight fades away. “Fine. Just this once, I'll admit that Spock may have had the better approach.” He turns to Spock. “Happy?”

“I am quite satisfied.” Spock's lips are turned into the smallest of smiles. “And this will not be something I allow you to forget.”

[dreamerdrop]

Recreational

“Hey, I will have you know I give very good blowjobs,” Julian said confidently.

“It’s true, he does,” Miles added.

Kira and Jadzia both stopped, then looked at each other, then over to Julian, then back at Miles again. Jadzia suppressed a laugh. Kira looked flabbergasted.

“… Well, I heard that. From Leeta—“ Miles drank the entirety of his beer, then shouted for Quark to bring him another.

“Keiko said he got lonely when she’s gone, and asked me to… give him a hand, that’s all!”

“She did not! He’s joking!”

“She was quite clear about his preferences—“

“Julian, I swear—“

[lilvoyagercomics]

A couple of weeks ago, the Doctor and Seven had run an anonymous ship-wide efficiency survey. The survey, meant to solicit views across the ranks and departments on how to streamline efficiency and improve the operations of the ship, had quickly become - as Tom Paris called it - a “job satisfaction” survey.

“As I informed the Doctor when he drafted the questionnaire,” Seven had said, when she reported the survey results to senior staff, “The questions were too imprecisely drafted.”

The Doctor huffed, but something told Kathryn that he had known exactly what he was doing. In any case, instead of learning about where resources could be diverted from or shared between departments, the survey had revealed that just over 64% of the crew thought Neelix should take cooking lessons on the holodeck (Kathryn had expected that number to be much higher) and 82% wanted the ship to be fitted with a physical gym so they didn’t have to rely on the holodecks for their workouts (Kathryn should have thought of that herself).

What had come as a surprise, was the feedback that Seven and the Doctor had shared with her and Chakotay after the rest of the senior staff had been dismissed.

“Feedback on the command team is generally positive.” Seven began dispassionately.

“Only generally?” Kathryn teased. Chakotay glanced at her sharply and she knew that he could tell her humour masked real apprehension. Sure, Voyager operated under a hierarchy which meant that she could take, or leave, the crew’s feedback, but the wellbeing and happiness of her crew mattered to her. Heck, most - if not all - her decisions were driven by those very factors!

“Generally.” Seven confirmed with a nod of her head, oblivious to Kathryn’s discomfort. “89% of the crew think that the command team strike the right balance between exploration and journeying home. The remaining 11% are largely compromised of the original Starfleet crew.” Seven looked between Kathryn and Chakotay. “As opposed to former Maquis,” she clarified.

Kathryn snuck a glance at Chakotay. “We don’t need to draw that distinction, Seven. Please move on.”

“It is an interesting observation,” Seven pressed on, keen to justify herself. “Logic dictates that the Maquis would be most dissatisfied given that they did not sign up for a life of space exploration.”

Kathryn snuck another glance at Chakotay. “Let’s move on, Seven,” she repeated more firmly, leaving no room for doubt that this was not a suggestion.

“Very well. 94% of the crew are uncertain if they are permitted to pursue interpersonal relationships with one another.”

“That’s a very high number.” The Doctor chimed in and Kathryn had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Surely you can see how this would be a problem. We have another 40 years left in our journey and skilled as I may be, I cannot keep you all alive for that long. This needs to be a generational ship.”

Kathryn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping that Chakotay would jump in. “Interpersonal relationships?” she asked, stalling. “You mean romantic relationships?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a smirk on Chakotay’s face.

“You are correct, Captain. The crew believes that you and the Commander would not approve were they to enter into romantic relationships onboard Voyager.”

Kathryn crossed her arms and glanced over at Chakotay once more. He was staring at a spot just beyond the Doctor’s right ear, a neutral, if not slightly bemused expression plastered on his face. Big help he was. As far as she was concerned, interpersonal relationships fell squarely within his purview.

“The crew doesn’t need our permission to enter into interpersonal relationships. The rules don’t prohibit this, they just ask that those relationships be disclosed so that conflicts of interest can be monitored and managed.”

“But neither you, nor the Commander, are in a relationship.”

Kathryn stood and moved to stand behind her chair. She felt the colour rising in her cheeks. This time, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Chakotay. “I don’t see what that has to do with this.”

“The crew follow your lead, Captain,” the Doctor explained gently. “They look to you to establish the culture onboard the ship.”

“So you mean to tell me everyone on this ship is single and celibate?” Kathryn asked, her voice sounding shrill to her own ears. “All because the Commander and I…”

“That’s not what they’re saying, Captain.” Chakotay spoke up at last. “They’re saying that the crew don’t feel like they can be open about the relationships that they are in.”

Kathryn scowled at him. Whose side was he on, anyway? “I find that hard to believe. Tom and B’Elanna are open about the status of their relationship, as are… are…” Kathryn sighed and sunk back into her seat. “So what you’re telling me is that we need to force ourselves into relationships for the good of the crew.”

“Why can’t you just acknowledge that you are already in a relationship?” Seven asked, confusion clearly written on her face.

“I - I - What?!” Kathryn spluttered.

“The characteristics to identify whether two or more people are in a romantic relationship,” Seven began and Kathryn got the sense that she was reciting from one of her recent social lessons with the Doctor, “include: one, body language - a noticeable level of closeness not shared with others, such as leaning toward each other when talking, maintaining eye contact, and being more relaxed when together. You and the Commander often walk unnecessarily close given the size of Voyager’s corridors and are more attentive when the other speaks.

Two, frequent physical contact. I have observed, Captain, that whilst you are a tactile person, you are 74% more likely to touch the Commander if compared to other crewmen. Gestures such as the squeeze of a shoulder, grasp of an arm, or cupping of the cheek - all of which I’ve observed between you - indicate a comfort level beyond commanding officers and friends and desire to maintain physical contact in spaces or situations where it may not be appropriate to engage in a more public display of affection.

Three, shared spaces. You and the Commander spend most, if not all, your free time together. If I’m not mistaken, unless one of you has alternative plans or in the event of a ship-wide emergency, it is given that you will have dinner together. You attend ship functions together and when one of you is injured, the other spends most of their off duty time by their bedside.

Additionally, I have observed, Captain, that you tend to hesitate for an additional 12.7 seconds when determining whether to send the Commander on an away mission, if compared to other crewmen. You are also more agitated when-“

Kathryn held her hands up. “Enough, Seven! I get the picture.” She felt the colour rising to her cheeks. Whilst Seven’s evidence wasn’t exactly damning, taken in the round it certainly had the potential to be incriminating and Kathryn wasn’t sure how to proceed. Deliberately avoiding looking over Chakotay, who she knew would be no help whatsoever, she pinched the bridge of her nose and gathered every ounce of authority she could muster. “The Commander and I have a very close working relationship. He is my best friend. And I don’t appreciate you, or the crew, speculating about the status of our relationship and how we choose to spend our free time.”

Her eyes fell on the Doctor. “And you,” she said, even more scathingly. “Should know better. Dismissed.”

As Seven and the Doctor all but scurried out of the briefing room, Chakotay turned to Kathryn with a wide grin on his face. “Honestly, Kathryn, you have got to learn to keep your hands off me when we’re on duty.”

[revolutionsoftheheart]

burn [jack crusher x q junior]

inspired by this gifset (and my tags that have now spiralled into this)

Their fathers have warned them against each other. The incessant games. The thrilling excitement. The overwhelming temptation.

Their give and take consumes them, spans solar systems and universes, and endangers more than just themselves.

There are barriers a human and a Q should never cross, but their curiosity—their obsession with each other—was never going to be satiated otherwise.

When they come together, the worlds light up. The explosion cracks open the very fabric of space and time, and their destinies become entwined even more than their fathers’ ever were.

They are destruction; they are salvation. And the universe will burn.

[theshadowrealmitself]

Was currently thinking about a Human finding their Vulcan partner’s “roadmap” to marriage with them, because their Vulcan partner wanted to bond with them within the first week they started dating, but understood that Humans find that too quick

So they wrote out a timeline of relationship milestones and when to hit them to build up to marriage based off their own calculations of how long a Human would comfortably take to reach them, so they don’t feel like their partner is rushing them

And the Human is just fascinated by it because some the milestones for it are different than what a Human considers relationship milestones, and then some are kinda similar

Like, there’s no “meeting the parents” milestone, but there’s a “no longer having to wake up early to make breakfast because you aren’t considered a guest anymore but part of the household*” milestone, and then for the similar stuff it’s like “starts keeping a meditation mat at their place” kinda like a “has a drawer of stuff at their place” milestone

(*they still like getting up early to make breakfast tho)

But it got derailed because when I was thinking of an approximate timeline for it, I realized,,, I don’t actually know average relationship timelines too well, when would you start having a drawer at your partner’s place on average? all I know timeline wise is when people are ridiculously too quick with it like “I met them 48 hours ago but they’re clearly my soulmate so I gave them keys to my house and car”

[yourbuerokrat2]

Being hugged by a Q who had only a few seconds ago thought that he had lost the closest thing he had to a friend in the universe, his beloved Favorite, for good was certainly an.. experience.

A slightly unwelcome one at that considering Picard was painfully reminded of an event in his childhood where he himself had picked up and hugged a bunny his mother had gotten him as a companion of sorts only to be berated by her to be more more gentle with it. A small animal for which Picard now felt a huge amount of sympathy.

[lenievi]

prompt: confess

------

T’Pring loves Spock. She is certain of it. Her mother has always been against the match, but T’Pring has stood her ground and followed her heart.

Spock does not bore her. He challenges her, and his human blood brings passion into their relationship that she would never get from another born on Vulcan.

But the same human blood keeps Spock away from her and creates a distance Spock has never been willing to bring closer. His words tell one thing, and his actions, another.

And soon, the reason becomes clear.

When Spock looks at Nurse Chapel, his eyes confess everything.