My name is Dan. I'm nineteen and a student at Michigan State, and I post whatever I find interesting. Expect Star Trek and The X-Files.
the cardassians take over the station. gul dukat goes “looks like this station is…. deep space mine”
weyoun goes “wait… don’t you mean… terok yours”
kira is unhappy
after my procedure at the hospital today my doctor tried to explain all of the medications he’s putting me on and i was kind of out of it on pain meds and he goes, “and i’m going to be putting you on some serious steroids, do you have any problems with that?”
and apparently i looked at my mom and whispered, “i’ll never play major league baseball” and started crying
ONCE AGAIN, HEAVY BREATHING HHH
Relations between the Federation and Cardassia had never been good, to start with, so Garak wasn’t surprised in the slightest at their situation, the tall, lean man behind him, his arm around Garak’s throat- not tight enough to start choking- particularly not with his defensive scales, but tight enough to threaten considering he’d already seen how unusually strong the man was for a Human. The phaser pressed to his temple was cold, a sharp contrast compared to the humid air at this rare resort on Cardassia, and as he was half-dragged down the hall to a room he wondered what it would feel like to die- would there be a burst of blazing light as the phaser destroyed him or would there be nothing but instant darkness?
When the human tossed him to the ground, keeping the phaser on him, he sluggishly rolled onto his back and smiled his broad smile, forever said to be insincere. “Now, not that I’m complaining about being dragged to a handsome man’s hotel room, but I’m afraid I’ve got work to do.” He gestured to his stolen uniform, the uniform of the resort’s staff, plain dark coveralls that he found supremely ugly but wouldn’t dare complain about while he was undercover.
He leaned back and wondered if he could reach for his own microphaser fast enough, tucked into his belt, as the human stepped up and put a perfectly shined boot on his chest, his smile bright against his dark skin, framed by that scruffy fur so many species grew on their faces. His smile looked earnest, almost innocent in it’s brilliance, and Garak internally fought to keep the flesh under his scales from flushing.
"Well, if you’re working here, I suppose you wouldn’t mind telling me all about the living accommodations being afforded to the Romulan diplomat’s party, wouldn’t you?"
They smiled at each other, tensely, each one knowing fully what the other was.
"Well, now…what would I know? I’m nothing but a gardner, sir. A plain, simple gardner."
I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS YOU GUYS
THIS IS LIKE THE CRACK COCAINE VERSION OF MY OTP
in that it’s the version of my OTP that’s gonna have fics tagged “Dubious Ethics”