mouthporn.net
#garak – @deeply-spaced-blog on Tumblr
Avatar

Deeply Spaced

@deeply-spaced-blog / deeply-spaced-blog.tumblr.com

This page is a safe haven for Niners (Star Trek DS9 fans), people interested and/or fans of the following randomness: Alexander Siddig Julian Bashir Nightwing Dick Grayson Batman Family Disney Travel Fanfiction Fanart Animals Game of Thrones Star Trek Geeks Liberal and progressive opinions Random internet feels I do speak my mind and I enjoy conversation and questions. Thank you to haikitteh for the avatar!
PostsLikes
Avatar
reblogged
Avatar
klingonrealitytelevision

I know you’re out there Elise

Circling the waters like a gotdamned shark.

These are essentially random drabbles. They started off cute in my head but then I remembered child rearing is not cute. Not really. So..uh yeah. The end was after I somehow constructed a story about why their youngest would be so young and it needed to be tragic because HAHAHA idk. bye

don’t read it.

Read More

#Julian Bashir#Garak Bashir#Garak#Star Trek DS9#fanfiction#DS9
Avatar
reblogged
Avatar
lostthehat

Lady, making these boggle-eyed Garaks cheered me up immensely after a poor day so I hope that they can bring even a fraction of the same joy to you.

Because I honestly almost fell off to the floor laughing while making these. 

I just…..I’m making good use of my time right now. I have decided that. No one can convince me otherwise. 

#Garak#Elim Garak#boggle-eyed#Star Trek DS9#DS9
Avatar
reblogged
Avatar
zeiat
‘Doctor Bashir is with Chief O’Brien. He should return at fifteen hundred hours. Unless it’s an emergency.’I assured Nurse Jabara that it wasn’t, nodded my thanks, and walked back out to the Promenade. I stood there for a moment, trying to deny that I was upset. This was the umpteenth time I had come to invite the doctor to lunch, only to find that he was already engaged with the Chief. Playing darts. Building models of old wars. Battling ancient enemies in ancient flying machines in some holographic fantasy. Or the latest diversion, listening to the insipid ‘lounge’ music at Vic Fontaine’s. Child’s games. That’s it, I decided, if he wants to have lunch he can damn well ask me.A Bajoran lout nearly knocked me into the perfume display and continued on his way without so much as a glance back. I controlled my temper and followed him. The Promenade was crowded, and I quietly negotiated the crowd until I made my way directly behind him. I slipped my left foot between his two legs, hooked his right ankle and pushed him hard in the small of his sweaty back with my left hand. He went down like a demolished building, taking two or three innocent pedestrians with him, and I peeled off to Quark’s bar. […]I sat down at the end of the bar instead of going to my usual place on the second level. I wasn’t sure how long I wanted to stay; I just had to get out of the crowd and a grip on my feelings. I was in a dangerous mood. Ever since that ridiculous holosuite program, I thought. The spy game. Well, of course it’s a game. It’s all a game. But it’s not a holosuite program. And yet, the moment Julian wounded me with his ridiculous weapon, everything changed. I thought it was a magnificent moment. He showed me that he had the spine to play the game as it ought to be played. But why then did he back off? Why couldn’t he go beyond that moment? Why did our relationship end?

oh my god sorry for the wall of text but i’m reading a stitch in time (the ds9 novel that andrew robinson wrote about garak) and it’s fucking incredible. garak (a) got upset that bashir blew him off for o’brien, so he (b) went and tripped some random asshole in the promenade and ran away, then (c) sat at the bar and fretted about why bashir doesn’t love him anymore. this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me (via skinchanging)

#Julian Bashir#Garak Bashir#Star Trek DS9#Garak#DS9#Star Trek#A Stitch In Time#Andrew Robinson
You are using an unsupported browser and things might not work as intended. Please make sure you're using the latest version of Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.
mouthporn.net