captain hikaru sulu

  • I look like a cinnamon roll but I could probably kill you: Sulu
  • I look like I could kill you but I'm actually a cinnamon roll: Jim
  • I look like a cinnamon roll and I really am a cinnamon roll: Bones
  • I look like I could kill you and I'm really gonna kill you: Spock
When they went back in time
  • Kirk: Okay, all the straight's of the planet are gonna assume we're one of them. So we'll be like gay secret agents!
  • Uhura: Lesbionage.
  • Chekov: Bi spy!
  • Scotty: It's an ace case.
  • Bones: Pan with a plan.
  • Sulu: ...
  • Sulu: Secret gaygent.
The Truth Of The Matter

Spock x Reader

Words: 982
Plot: A Romulan transmission comes through requesting negotiations - the reader volunteers. When Spock objects, she’s more than a little offended that he thinks she can’t do her job. But that’s far from the reason he’s not happy.
A/N: I love Spock x reader pairing SO MUCH. SO MUCH. Despite having requests out the wazoo I’m going to take a little time to give this pairing to end all pairings a little love. It’s sort of a sequel to Shon-ha’lock, if you want it to be.

Originally posted by lmwechirrut

The transmission had come through, cracked and stuttering as it played on the bridge; a Romulan diplomacy ship having lost primary and auxiliary engines due to a massive malfunction. They requested aid; Kirk had offered a boarding party to discuss the terms of such aid.
They had, reluctantly, accepted.
When the transmission darkened, the room went silent.
“What are the odds this is a trap?” Sulu asked, turning over his shoulder to look over at the captain.
Kirk’s brow furrowed; he reached his index finger to his lips in thought before pushing out of his seat.
“I don’t know. Which is why I’ve got to be the one to go” Kirk added “I’ll take a small ground crew. Raise all shields, monitor life signs”.

“Aye sir”.

“Uhura? You’re fluent in Romulan, right?”
Lieutenant Uhura folded her hands behind her back, raising her chin.
“I am. But I don’t know how confident I am discerning what happened; I’m not familiar with Romulan ship mechanics”.
Kirk clenched his jaw, drumming his fingers against his sides.
(y/n) stood awkwardly from behind her desk; pulling at the hem of her yellow shirt as she nudged her chair with her foot.
“I think I can do it. I wrote a dissertation on Romulan spacefairing in the Academy. If they’re lying, I should be able to figure it out-”
“-Captain, it seems reasonably illogical to remove the Communications Lieutenant from her post when we will be needing to send transmissions to starfleet” Spock interjected hastily, his mouth a thin line as he stared at Kirk, almost deliberately avoiding (y/n)’s gaze as he did so.
(y/n) bit her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor immediately in frustration. 
She had trained for this. She knew what she was doing. She had this under control.
“Mr. Sulu can monitor comms in her absence. I don’t doubt he can do a reasonable job until we get back” Kirk added, tapping figures into his PADD. (y/n) swore she could see a smirk on Jim’s lips; but if it was there, it was gone in moments.
“-Then allow me to go in your place. I have familiarity with Romulan ships and am the First Officer of this ship. Should anything happen I would-”
“Spock” Jim asserted, turning to the Vulcan “I need you here. You being the First Officer is exactly why you need to be here when I beam over. If it all goes to hell, there’s nobody I’d rather have commanding this ship.”
Spock keyed a command into his PADD before turning to Kirk, his eyes sharp.
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent” Jim grinned, clasping his hands together “Lieutenant, we beam out in five minutes. Suit up and I’ll meet you in the transporter room.”
(y/n) felt her stomach turn with nerves, her heart thrashing in her chest. Nodding to Kirk, she quickly logged herself out of her panel and darted over to the turbolift, tying her hair back out of her face with a band she kept around her wrist. Pushing the button to take her to her quarters, the lift doors began closing.

A hand reached out, and the automatic doors slid open again.
Spock walked in coolly, his hands held tightly behind his back as he stood beside her. From here, she could see the way his cheekbone curved in the light; the way his hairline dusted against his ears-
No. She couldn’t bare to think about those things right now.
She’d been smitten for him for too long; always tripping over her words in the corridor; always making up reasons to stay behind on the bridge when she was exhausted just to be in the room alone with him. He never seemed to give her the time of day; or if he did, it always had to be for something. 
He’d saved her life once; she’d been shot, disruptor fire causing her to fall and break her ribs. He’d carried her, then. Visited her in the medbay. He’d been kind. 
But there were always reasons. Always answers.
Never the ones she wanted.
“Lieutenant-” Spock began.
“Why did you do that?” (y/n) asked, turning to face him as the turbolift clicked, beginning its descent away from the bridge. He looked straight ahead; only acknowledging her out of the corner of his eye. 
He visibly swallowed.

(y/n) gritted her teeth.
“You know I’m more than qualified to go on this mission. You previously described my field performance as ‘exemplary’ in regards to identifying cultural differences in regards to spacefairing designs” she breathed.
Spock’s hands seemed to move slightly behind his back; he re-adjusted his posture.
“You are likely the most qualified candidate for this mission”.
(y/n) opened her mouth in shock, her brow furrowing as she looked at him incredulously.
“Then why would you-”
“Your conclusion that I would insist on you remaining on the ship as a result of your incapacity is incorrect. It is far from the truth of the matter.”
(y/n) felt her frustration draining; her hands shaking as the feelings of inadequacy left them, replaced with a haze of confusion and anticipation. Spock barely looked at her; he almost never truly looked at her. It was as though he was always looking just over her shoulder, just over her head.
“What is the truth of the matter, Spock?”
The turbolift dinged as it approached her floor. 
Spock turned then, his eyes darting across to hers. His gaze was so intense she felt her face grow hot; something held within it making her heart hammer in her chest.
“If a situation occurred in which your safety was threatened; others may not handle your safety being at risk with so much comfort.”
The doors slid open, and Spock strode out quickly.
(y/n) swore she saw his ears tinged with green; but if that were the case it was only for a moment, and then he was out of sight.


Sticks and Stones

Summary - Elizabeth Lucas is a doctor who is assigned to the Enterprise for their 5 year voyage into uncharted territory, but she also has another speciality. 

Warnings - swearing, angst, mentions of blood.

Doctor Elizabeth Lucas had a reputation, firstly for being one of the best doctors in the Federation, but also because she was rumoured to be extremely kind and very intelligent. So, when Jim was handed her transfer orders the day before the Enterprise was about to set off, you could say he was excited about the new crew member joining his ship. There had been strict orders that she wear a emerald green dress, mainly so that people could identify her easily if they needed her; but also because she was senior to most people on the ship, because she had another area of expertise.

Rumours were rumours, but you couldn’t ignore the rumours about Elizabeth Lucas and those hands of hers, the same hands that time and time again proved to be magical. The only thing that Jim worried about was telling Bones that he had a partner, who was better than him, but didn’t want his position, but he had to listen to her anyway… and Bones didn’t take it well at all, he cussed and messed his room up, but then he began to criticise and doubt the talents of the doctor who would be joining them. Now, let me remind you that Elizabeth, other than having goddess-like hands, was also undoubtedly stunning. There was dark chocolate hair that reached her waist in beach waves, dark hazel eyes which glowed against her olive complexion, there was also the fact that her body was healthy, she had an hourglass figure and the curves were hard not to stare at. So when Jim actually met Elizabeth, he couldn’t help but stare and blush when she giggled at his reaction before telling him it was alright.

Keep reading

Their Handwriting

Their Handwriting

-Jim’s handwriting is neat, which takes most people by surprise when they see it. What people forget is how intelligent Jim actually is. The man’s a Starfleet Captain, for god’s sake. When he signs off on documents, his signature is comprised of large, loopy letters.

-When Chekov writes in English, it’s essentially chicken scratch. (“I can azzure you Keptain, that iz my name.”) But when he writes in Russian, it’s so unbelievably elegant. This resulted in Uhura and Chekov passing notes on the bridge, all in Russian and none the Captain could decipher.

-Spock’s is, unsurprisingly, neat. It’s almost as if his handwriting has been typed, and Jim has to do a double take every time he sees it. But because he takes such good care with how his letters are shaped, it takes him forever to finish a report.

-Everyone assumed Bones’ handwriting would be worse than Chekov’s. Doctors stereotypically wrote letters as scribbles, so it came as a surprise to see the good doctor had average handwriting. Not too neat, not too messy. (“Dammit Jim, I’m a doctor, not a calligraphist.”)

-Scotty, hands down, has the worst handwriting on the ship. Arguably the whole galaxy. It was tiny, and mixing it with the old Scottish phrases he constantly used made anything he wrote illegible. Sometimes, when people asked what he meant when he wrote certain calculations, he’d have to do the math again because even he couldn’t understand what he wrote.

-Uhura has to be able to write complicated alien letters and have other people understand them, so no one was amazed by her almost Spock-level handwriting.

-Probably the most surprising was Sulu’s. It’s awful. Everyone assumed that because he was such a neat and organized man, his handwriting would be the same. Instead, it was large and sloppy. (“I’m just not used to writing with a pencil, sir.” “Oh come on.”) His handwriting was somewhere between Bones’ and Chekov’s, although when he was rushed it happened to become eerily similar to the curly haired Russian’s.