#buddy the vulcan

[best-star-trek-character]

Round One

[bumblingbabooshka]

Mpreg Attack

[theshadowrealmitself]

Human with a flirting style even more subtle than a Vulcan’s trying to catch their attention

[ignatiusteto]

congrats....... it’s an eeby deeby

[ichayalovesyou]

Ok I wanna try something for science

Tag what your first Star Trek and/or first Trek episode was, and who your favorite background character is from any Trek you’ve seen.

[anndramarama]

How you doin.

[cerastes]

I still think it's really cool how Amuro starts as the shittiest pilot alive (because he's a 15-year old) that only gets carried because he's in the biggest, fattest stat stick in-universe at the time (a few retroactive additions made in the future notwithstanding), enough that even its crappy vulcan guns are tearing Zaku IIs apart, and when he starts getting a bit too cocky, Char and Ramba Ral show up in objectively inferior pieces of junk and absolutely deliver his pizza, they just drag his face across every available surface in Planet Earth like he's a Yakuza mook, all because they are simply that much better at piloting, and the thing is, Amuro takes that very seriously.

He goes from shitass kid in an unfortunate situation that doesn't want to get in the robot to the most unwell child soldier in the war, which is really saying something, but most importantly, becomes so good at piloting the Gundam that the Gundam physically cannot handle Amuro's piloting. They need to apply "Magnetic Coating" to its joints so they don't fucking snap away from the main frame because Amuro, one, moves too damn well but also in too extreme a way for the frame to handle it, two, despite being equipped with two sabers, a shield, a beam rifle and vulcan guns, Amuro is a stern believer in introducing most everyone in thagomizer range to his Rated Z for Zeon hands, the single most official pair of hands in the business, tax free. He KEEP going Ip Man on these dudes, he does NOT need to do a Jamestown on these mother fuckers but he INSISTS. Somehow even the Gundam Hammer, which is a giant Hannah Barbera cartoon flail-- Ok, look at this thing, words do not do it justice

Even this god damn Tom and Jerry prop is less savage that whatever Amuro decides to do the moment he's done throwing his shield to get a free kill on someone and it officially becomes bed time forever for the unfortunate sap at the business end of his ten-finger weapons of mass destruction.

The RX-78-2, "Gundam" for its friends and family, even has a top of the line cutting edge Learning Computer that 'learns' alongside the pilot and their habits. This data extracted from it was so absolutely fucked up that it completely revolutionized Mobile Suit combat afterwards, which is a wholesome thing to think about when The Best Combat Data Ever came from a really angry, really stressed 15 year old that doesn't even like piloting. He was 15! He made Haro with his own hands! Amuro literally just wanted to make funny cute spherical robofriends! Amuro was out there trying to make Kirby real, but fate had other plans for him. His cloned brain put in a pilot seat is one of the setting's strongest 'pilots'.

They made fucking Shadow the Hedgehog with his brain, god damn.

By the end, Zeon is rolling out Gelgoogs out of its mass production lines. These things are in the Gundam's ballpark in terms of overall specs (or "power level"). Amuro is bodying them as if they were episode 1 Zaku IIs.

AND THEN HE GETS FUCKING PSYCHIC SPACE POWERS. Not that he needed them, he bodied a couple Space Psychics without any of those powers before awakening to them. But heaven's most violent child was not done evolving, whether he liked it or not.

Char bodied him in a souped up Zaku II at the start, a machine objectively inferior to the Gundam. Amuro more or less one-sidedly beats the shit out of Char when he's in a custom Commander-type Gelgoog that you could consider to be equal spec-wise to the Gundam. Amuro is the embodiment of Finding Out. He is Consequences. You tell him he better make it hurt, better make it count, better kill you in one shot, buddy, he needs half a fucking shot. The complete transformation. One could consider the central 75% of the show as long drawn out training montage turning a kid into the Geese Howard of giant robots.

[shanastoryteller]

Seasons Greasons be upon ye! ❄️⛄️ Can I request a little Sybok and Jim buddy au? Throw Spock in there too he feels lonely without his T’hy’la

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Spock is having a perfectly normal and pleasant conversation with Cadet Uhura when there's a cool hand on the back of his neck and he tenses before being flooded with feelings of affection and amusement.

"Sybok," he says evenly.

Their father had discouraged physical touch between them when Spock was a child. He'd worried that Sybok's unrestrained emotions and blatant disregard for societal customs would rub off on him.

Perhaps the distance would have been easier to do endure if their father had told him that, but he does not know. In any case, he cannot help from finding it comforting now, despite the lack of propriety.

"Spock," Sybok returns, a grin on his face that's most unbecoming.

Cadet Uhura is staring, jaw an inch lower than typical.

Sybok at least offers her the ta'al instead of something mortifying. "Apologies for my younger brother's rudeness. I am Sybok."

He would have introduced them. Sybok merely caught him off guard.

Cadet Uhura seems to shake off her surprise and offers him a beatific smile of her own. She copies his ta'al flawlessly. "Not at all, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your writings are most interesting."

She's read his brother's thesis? He had not known that Cadet Uhura was a practitioner of masochism.

Whatever horrible response this would have pulled from his brother is interrupted by an excited shout of, "SYYYYYBOK! BOK BOK BOK!"

Spock is aware that the last syllable of his brother's name is also the sound humanity has associated with chickens.

He'd still never anticipated it being clucked at him in such a manner.

He looks over to see James Kirk sprinting in their direction while Cadet McCoy tries and fails to stop him, shouting and reaching for him but James Kirk is out of his reach.

Cadet Uhura scowls, shoulders going back and her eyes narrowing.

Sybok's face lights up and he looks behind him. "Jimmy!"

James Kirk reaches them, grabs onto his brother's shoulders, and vaults himself up so his legs are wrapped around Sybok's waist and he's draped across his back. "You asshole! Why didn't you tell me you were on world? Fuck you."

"Where's the fun in that?" Sybok asks, seemingly unconcerned with the way James Kirk is draped across him.

Cadet McCoy reaches them then bends over, bracing his hands on his knees and gasping for air, "Jim."

James Kirk raises an eyebrow.

"Stop," he pants, pointing a finger in his direction, "this."

Cadet Uhura slowly moves her gaze across each of them, looking back and forth between Sybok and James Kirk several times. "Do you ... know each other?"

Vulcans have a religion of sorts, although it's more a series of ritual for the dead than anything formal, and there is no worshipping of any sort of deities. That sort of impracticality was purged from the society with Surak's teachings. Should he wish to indulge in such things, which he does not, his mother's family has long been disciples of Judaism.

Despite this, he has the sinking feelings that he's in hell.

[danshive]

Towels Are Illogical

A Star Trek: Lower Decks fan fiction inspired by speculation about the lack of shame and modesty in the lower deck bunk corridors.

This story is tame, does not include detailed physical descriptions, and, with creative directing, could even be in an episode of Lower Decks.

Nonetheless, it has characters in casual states of total undress, and some suggestive moments.

Therefore, reader discretion is advised. Story after the “Keep Reading”.

Towels Are Illogical

By Dan Shive

Boimler’s troubles (or, at least, these specific troubles), began with the arrival of provisional officer T’Lyn.

As Boimler understood it, T’Lyn had transferred from a Vulcan vessel, and was Tendi’s “bestest science buddy”. T’Lyn didn’t look to Boimler as though she returned Tendi’s enthusiasm, but it was hard to tell with Vulcans. Boimler took Tendi’s word for it.

All of which was fine. Boimler was always happy to meet a new crewmate. He welcomed T’Lyn with open arms kept at a respectable distance.

No, the problem for Boimler was that T’Lyn turned out to be a trendsetter.

Naturally, not long after T’Lyn’s arrival, she made use of the sonic showers. As she set out to do so, however, she didn’t wrap herself in a towel. She simply undressed, stored her uniform, and started walking.

Changing clothes out in the open wasn’t unusual in the bunk corridors of the lower decks, nor was it that strange to not be in a hurry to get dressed again. 

It was not uncommon, for example, for Tendi and Rutherford to get distracted in the middle of changing, and to have lengthy conversations while remaining in various states of undress.

It was, however, unusual to leave one’s bunk while still undressed as T’Lyn had done.

Mariner, with her usual lack of a filter, caught up to T’Lyn, and walked along next to her while wearing a towel. “Whoa, whoa, T’Lyn! You’re really going decloaked?”

T’Lyn raised an eyebrow. “Why would I have a cloak?”

“Sorry, sorry, turn of phrase,” While still outgoing and assertive, Mariner was a little awkward around T’Lyn. “A towel. I meant a towel.”

“Are these not sonic showers?”

“Well, yeah, they are, but…”

“To dry oneself off is unnecessary after a sonic shower, and it is illogical for me to cover myself. I feel no physical shame. Even if I did, we are about to shower together.” With what might have been a smile, T’Lyn said “decloaking is an inevitability.”

“Yeah… Yeah! You’re right!” Mariner declared. “I don’t need this!” She boldly whipped off her towel, and flung it over her shoulder. “I mean, I’ll hang on to it for now, don’t want to leave towels lying around the corridor, but yeah!”

Aside from a distracted ensign walking into a wall, this moment had little-to-no impact on others in the lower decks. It was later, after Tendi loudly expressed agreement with T’Lyn, and declared them to be “no-towel buddies,” that the idea started to spread.

As though it were the latest fashion, lower decker after lower decker stopped bothering with towels when walking to and from the sonic showers.

Even “towel guy” was now just “guy,” though he was still referred to as “towel guy.”

Tradition is a powerful thing.

Only one ensign, Ensign Boimler, was sticking to last season’s fashion. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he meant to go to the sonic showers, but was hesitant.

Everyone else not wearing towels bothered Boimler, but not for the reasons one might expect. Boimler was not, for example, overwhelmed by the sight of his exposed crewmates.

Back at his family’s raisin vineyard, Boimler was the most eligible bachelor around. Absurdly attractive women, often in states of partial, if not total, undress, threw themselves at him.

Boimler, hyper-focused on his future in Starfleet, and lacking patience in any failure to properly raise the raisins to be, remained completely oblivious. Without even meaning to, he had formed a callous around being affected by the nudity of others.

Tendi, Mariner, Rutherford, T’Lyn, or anyone else walking around in their birthday suits wasn’t going to power Boimler’s lust above impulse.

No, what bothered Boimler was he was the only one keeping himself covered at all times.

He’d mastered changing clothes without dropping his cloak.

His towel shields were up well before the eyes of others could impact his hull.

Not even Section 31 could know the secrets of Boimler’s hips.

But now, Boimler was the only one staying covered. He felt like a coward, and cowards had no place in the captain’s chair.

“A captain wouldn’t be afraid to drop the towel,” Boimler thought to himself. “A captain wouldn’t even bring a towel! They’d sit in the captain’s chair, naked as the day they were born, and do! Their! Duty!”

Unbidden, an imagined scene of Captain Freeman bravely commanding the Cerritos in such a manner played out in Boimler’s mind.

Boimler, his face red, quickly sat down. He hurriedly thought of other things, like the Niners playing baseball in a holosuite.

As it turned out, nudity combined with competent Starfleet officers on missions actually could awaken something in Boimler.

“Bases loaded, Rom bunts…” Boimler whispered, casting away the sexy demons.

Boimler, deliberately lost in thoughts of the Niners losing at baseball, and trying to remember how baseball was played, failed to notice T’Lyn.

T’Lyn was fresh from the sonic showers, and, as per usual, not wearing a thing.

She observed Boimler. His discomfort about the towel situation had not escaped her notice. While she felt her actions logical, she knew it was her influence that had resulted in his current dilemma.

T’Lyn felt… Found it logical to help Boimler.

“May I join you, Mister Boimler?”

“EZRI ON FIRST!” Boimler blurted, bumping his head on the ceiling of his bunk as he sat up straight.

T’Lyn raised her eyebrows, her expression otherwise unchanged. “My apologies. Are you injured?”

“No, no, I’m fine! Sit, sit! What’s up?”

T’Lyn sat on the end of Boimler’s bunk closest to the viewport.

“You are uncomfortable with the idea of not covering yourself.”

“Whaaat? Why would you… Why would you think? That?” Boimler’s smile would have earned him an invite to many a Ferengi’s poker table.

T’Lyn said nothing.

“Okay, fine, yes,” Boimler admitted. “I know it’s the 24th century, and it’s illogical, but—“ T’Lyn calmly interrupted with a raised hand.

“It is logical for me to not cover myself because I do not feel discomfort in this situation. Context, however, is relevant.” In a shocking display of expressiveness, T’Lyn gestured with one arm, indicating the bunks of the lower decks.

T’Lyn then used both hands to draw attention to her own torso. “Were I in this state of undress at a meeting with the senior staff, and they were fully dressed, I would find it…”

Almost imperceptibly, T’Lyn’s head tilted, and her face scrunched the tiniest of bits. To Boimler, this somehow conveyed a shudder.

“Illogical,” T’Lyn finished. She rested her hands in her lap, their shameless, illogical gesturing for emphasis complete.

Boimler imagined himself in T’Lyn’s place in that hypothetical situation, followed by Worf catching a flying ball.

“You, Mister Boimler, are not me. You should do what is right for you,” she said, imperceptibly gentle. “Discarding your towel as an act of conformity is illogical. It is only logical if you truly wish to do so, and only if you are comfortable being uncovered.”

Boimler smiled genuinely this time. “Thank you, T’Lyn. You’re right. I think I really needed to hear that.”

T’Lyn smiled. It was barely perceptible, but it happened. “You are welcome, Mister Boimler.”

“And you know what?” Boimler said, quickly standing, “I shouldn’t be ashamed! I’m not doing this for peer pressure! I’m doing this for me! Bold Boimler!”

Boimler triumphantly cast aside his towel, standing fully exposed in the lower decks corridor, hands on his hips.

Right as Beckett Mariner, fully dressed, had turned the corner.

“NOPE,” Mariner loudly declared. Turning around, her hands raised, she quickly departed the way she came. “Nope. Nuh-uh. No way.”

Boimler felt a bit less triumphant. “Well, that was…” his hands fell from his hips as his posture slumped. “Discouraging.”

T’Lyn looked towards the parting Mariner.

“I believe she does not wish to think of you in certain ways, but does so under certain circumstances,” T’Lyn dryly hypothesized, a hint of jealously in her voice that only a Vulcan could detect.

“And what does that mean?” Boimler asked, not getting any of it.

T’Lyn stood. “Take it as a compliment, Mister Boimler.” With images dancing in her mind of a cute, flustered Mariner reacting to T’Lyn’s state of undress instead of Boimler’s, T’Lyn left to get dressed.

[spocks-husband]

I have this AU that's been bouncing around in my head for weeks and I need opinions on it so. Yeah. Tell me what you think.

Also, for context, they're all about 17-20 in this AU. Details will come later if I decide to do anything with the idea.

Spock is a prince on Vulcan; their society is fairly similar to how it is in canon but certain elements of the pre-reform society remain, so it's more spiritual and there's a monarchy in place. Spock has accepted his role as heir to the throne after his brother's disappearance-- but he's always felt out of place. The monarchy carefully hides his half-human identity from the public, and every aspect of his life is intricately controlled. He's suffering, really, but in his mind it's for the good of his people.

Meanwhile, James Tiberius Kirk is a pirate living on a busted old space craft, having fun, sailing through the galaxy with his stressed best friend Leonard McCoy who regrets receiving military medical training every day of his life, their constantly high engineer buddy Montgomery Scott who keeps the ship from falling apart with duct tape and prayers, Hikaru Sulu who has hit on every person on the ship and slept with every alien they've come across, Pavel Chekov who is Sulu's very tired boyfriend who doesn't really do much but any suggestions that he should leave would be met with someone getting stabbed (they're in an open relationship for context dw Chekov is a manwhore too), and finally Nyota Uhura who was mostly just here to get a ride one time but she realized these stupid fucks needed a Lesbian with some braincells on board so she handles the logistics of their crimes.

The night before Spock is scheduled to marry a barely known noble girl named T'Pring, Kirk and his crew kidnap him for ransom, assuming it will just be another job. But, alas, Jim falls in love and won't let Spock go, not caring in the slightest that he has caused an interplanetary crisis mostly for his own amusement.

Tldr the dumbasses are dumb and I love them

Edit: The fic has been written!! See my pinned for the link :D

[ancovickacz]

HEYY IVE SEEN UR TREK ART U MAKE SOME GREAT GARAKS BUDDY!! VERY IMPRESSIVE FULL SCENE COMPOSITIONS! SHOW ME YOUR FAVORITE WORK FROM THE LAST YEAR AND ALSO DRAW GARAK IN AN ODD LITTLE HAT? KEEP IT UP M8!!

Hiiii!!!! Thank you, that's so sweet! I think you make some great art as well, especially your Vulcan fashion concepts! Here's the guy with the hat!

Smug bastard, anyway

Oddly enough I think my favorite art from this year is this panel from a comic I never finished. Thank you, for giving me an opportunity to post it! :)

[cdfreak]

why is quark incapable of shutting up about his holosuite programs. you could be in his bar like "ohh my mom just died and then my dog ate her and then i got sent back in time and had to kill my dads parents" and hell walk up like "buddy dont worry ive got JUST the thing. you ever heard of Vulcan BDSM Murder Sex Volcano Party 3?"

[bumblingbabooshka]

Things that aren’t red flags but are flags nonetheless

[theshadowrealmitself]

I wish there was more vulcan/human romance stuff or just more things about humans and Vulcans interacting in general, I’m tired of the xenophobia stuff, I wanna hear about cute stuff that they think of each other

[spiders-notagain]

How to tell if your vulcan buddy is into you

The first thing to establish is why your vulcan chose you in the first place. There are two main methods vulcans use to choose an intended mate. The first is obviously based on logical criteria. This is a process that evaluates personality, ethics, and life goals to estimate compatibility. Mental/psychic compatibility is also evaluated alongside other criteria but is often weighted more heavily, with psychic incompatibility being a huge dealbreaker. The other method is shon-ha'lok, loosely translating to love at first sight. This traditionally describes the state of being in romantic infatuation/obsession with someone but is often used by vulcans to describe one who chooses an illogical choice of mate. It is however possible to be in shon-ha'lok for someone who is also a logical choice of mate.

As with human courting, actions are functional, either being used to demonstrate worthiness as a potential partner or to fulfill internal desires. They can be sorted into the five love languages.

Gift Giving: Gifts have a long history of relevance in vulcan marriages. In historical times, gifts were often expensive and extravagant. This is not necessary in a post scarcity society so vulcans commonly give gifts that are thoughtful and personalized to the receiver. Vulcans very rarely give gifts in this manner to another vulcan who is not A. their intended or B. a family member because it may be seen as nosy. Gifts given may be functional (ex. a can opener), decorative (ex. an art piece), or just enriching to your life (ex. a tea flavor you just ran out of, a book you mentioned was hard to find again)

Quality Time: Spending time with another is a logical way to measure compatibility through conversation and psychic proximity. However, vulcans have a looser definition of how much quality time is needed before marriage than humans. Any time spent together that fulfills these criteria is counted as quality time including time spent together for work or social group purposes. Additionally, vulcans avoid complete isolation with their intended (they're trying to avoid the temptation to maul you) and will prefer instead partial isolation, such as public parks or restaurants.

Physical Touch: Hand-to-hand contact is not only a logical way to measure psychic compatibility but is also physically desirable. This may be expressed as subtle touches (ex. brushing hands when giving each other objects, resting your hands near theirs.. etc.) or deliberate (offering the ozh'esta, touching their arm to get their attention, pressing their shoulder to lead them along.. etc.) Physical contact is taboo in vulcan culture so touching someone unnecessarily is specifically notable.

Words of Affirmation: In general vulcans only say things that are true and do not exaggerate facts to flatter. Excessive praise is thus reserved for things that are truly extraordinary. However if excessive praise is given, it could possibly indicate a romantic bias. This includes praise that is a personal expression of emotion (ex. I like your eyes, I enjoyed your performance) Pet names and expressions of endearment are usually reserved for relationships that are more cemented but occasionally if a vulcan is really down bad for their intended, they may use them earlier.

Acts of Service: Caring for one's intended is a logical way to demonstrate capability as a logical mate. This includes an attentiveness to your needs that outpaces even human friendships (ex. providing food or snacks, fetch quests for you) In the courtship stages, vulcans will temper this desire, balancing it with public decorum. However, this may include actions that are nosy and intrusive by human standards (ex. organizing your cupboard, folding your laundry) By vulcan standards, inviting your intended to your home to hang out casually is an intimate milestone and indicates a deep commitment to the relationship, soon before a proposal. So touching their things is not especially more intimate than the mind meld you'll have soon if not already.

You may notice that many of these things are very typical for a normal human friendship and thus not particularly intimate. This is because vulcans are so ridiculously reserved that expressing the love languages at all is very notable.

There are of course, cases where vulcans may do these things not because they've chosen an intended, but because they've chosen to integrate with humans and reciprocate their actions of friendship. In this case, you can tell the difference because vulcans can't pine romantically for years. Not only is it illogical, but biology will inevitably force their hand in some way. If rejected they will either enforce distance and move on (abruptly ending all displays of affection whatsoever) or stubbornly attempt to change their intended's mind, increasing their displays and attempting to resolve any perceived obstructions (if it's another person this can lead to violence)

Vulcans technically have a sixth love language which is their mental contact but nothing substantial is done with this until bonding.

[nichestartrekkie0-0]

If "Subspace Rhapsody" took place in S1 I have some headcanons

A- I feel like it would have been funny to do just covers of songs instead of just making up new ones- cuz then the crew would be scrambling to decipher wtf Una and Chris meant by singing a duet to 'Whenever Wherever' by Shakira (Like are they friends? Should we call Batel??)

I feel like La'an would have sung in something other than English, because god damn it if she's going to sing her feelings- she's going to at least sing in a language no one understands! (Aka Chinese opera or Bollywood lol )

M'Bena and Pike should have had a buddy duet to something stupid

Hemmer would have had a cute duet with Uhura to something sweet, maybe a sad/dramatic solo alone

Chapel would be singing 'What the hell' by Avril Lavigne

Erica needs to do 'my way' by Queen Key, she/they don't have a choice

Spock should have 2 songs or more, each in a different language (one of which is Vulcan) and one of them has to be some horrific pop song that he will deny that he has ever listened to

every time the song comes on, the crew has no idea who's singing and why, so they just look around frantically until someone breaks out singing-

Oh, and they should have control of their facial expressions. If Una's going to put on a show, she's going to be rolling her eyes and smirking the whole time.