#DE: we gotchu fam

[faragonreblogs]

I drew this idea so freaking long ago, it's wild that what I had in mind ended up actually happening in the game... love to see it!!

.:The Gemini Complex:.

An idea I had for a while about my Operator from WF… I hope I get time to work on it at some point….

glances over at the million other ideas I haven’t even been able to touch

OKAY SO ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS DOODLE!

[celestialholz]

Q thoughts (head empty)

Okay, first of all: MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER EVER IN ALL OF FICTION IS BACK AFTER THIRTY YEARS, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA *clears throat*

Ahem. But yeah, let’s break this trailer and interview down with some Celestial thoughts!

Things I am excited for:

- Modern Q, obviously. Here is a character who we’ve experienced in brief bursts as antagonistic but benevolent; amusing but sombre; enigmatic yet becoming more and more human-like with every appearance. The continuation of that potential is scintillating - we could be presented with a Q on a specific mission, one that’s here mostly for the banter, or a wrecked and embittered being who just desperately wants to reconnect after a civil war he was never supposed to have, or it could be all fucking three and none of them. Naturally, he needs to have a purpose, and as Picard has been in character terms, he needs to be nailed. We need a Q decisively post-AGT, but given Patrick’s exec-producing and the doubt I have that John would ever join if he felt they weren’t doing him justice, I have faith in this. Just... don’t give me a bloody deus ex machina without a point, for the love of the Continuum. Lower Decks is hardly my show, but if we get that manner of Q appearance, we may as well not bother.

What excites me specifically here is that Q apparently appears at a ‘shattering’ moment, which bodes very well as a concept; I’m hoping for some wild electronic shutdown from android!Picard, personally! More on this later...

- Qcard. Naturally. Now, I’m not suggesting Qcard is about to be canon, however hard they’re baiting us with Q literally being on a card (are you fucking kidding me guys, seriously), but... we now live in a blessed era where Q can be the eccentric, flamboyant gay he’s always been. We can have a Q who admit his feelings at last, and we can have a Picard that can accept that and potentially reciprocate - and sure, some people will be butthurt, but some people can also fuck off and get with the times. Am I expecting them to stand there on an asteroid belt and snog? Absolutely not, though we can but hope; honestly, I’d be delighted by some form of acknowledgement, and them swanning off into eternity together, Picard’s burdens finally laid down and his spirit free to be the adventurer it’s always been. Think of the goddamn fics I could write off THAT, my god...

But really, I’ve said this before: Picard is a little darker now, older in age and soul, slightly bitter. Q has presumably been through his civil war, and thus is probably darker, older in age and soul, more bitter than before. Coupled with the genuine beginnings of friendship they’d forged by AGT... whether or not they take that in a romantic direction, it could be a truly unique and meaningful companionship for the ages from two people remarkably similar despite their immense differences, and I’m absolutely here for that. <3

- Has this man forgotten Tapestry? “Time offers so many opportunities, but never second chances,” he says as the card with a heart and a Q on melts away. Poor memory there, Jean-Luc? Do androids still have to deal with Irumodic Syndrome? *shakes head*

- Picard. Here’s a chap who has turned full Data, for all intents and purposes; that’s got to be fucking him up in fairly short order, but I’m especially intrigued by two specific prospects: firstly that he’s going to go into full meltdown as an exemplar of humanity, but secondly... the Q fear humanity to a degree, as they’re meant to surpass them... and ‘the trial never ends’... is that what we’re doing here, advancing humanity to get nearer to that? Because if so, wow. Holy shit. That’s a hell of a reason why Q might be fascinated by him, especially after the Continuum’s war...

- Graphics. A minor point, but STP looks amazing, and the omnipotence of old did not. I’m impressed enough at the particle-vanishing effect of the card - the presence of de Lancie, coupled with the Hollywood-beautiful SFX of this series? Christ, that’s going to be spectacular.

- Time and again. The time angle of this new series intrigues me no end, and there are SO many things they could do with this. I am fervently hoping we don’t rewrite TNG canon to any real degree, but... damn, the opportunities. We could see child Picard, a Trials and Tribble-ations-style insert, any manner of exciting fuckery. I don’t even have any theory-based thoughts right now because we know nothing, but the concept’s thrilling!

- Dream a little dream of me? Two possibilities, given the opening poker scene of series one, and that we now know what the card officially meant (not that I didn’t call that/write a fic on it over a year ago, but still): either Q’s stuck himself into that dream as foreshadowing, or... Picard’s stuck Q in his own dream because he’s been thinking about him. I’m genuinely not sure which is more gay, though I’m privately hoping for the latter...

... I have so many thoughts, and it’s half eleven at night. Please feel free to elaborate on anything missing/very gay, thanks in advance xxxx (P.S. ‘You know that ‘shattering’ thing, celestial - ‘ oh yeah, don’t worry fam, I gotchu. Fic in progress. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA x10) @q-card @bowie-star-trekking hmu cheers dears x

[doubleca5t]

Once again im in your askbox asking for help. So the Australian bushfires are gone but so are peoples entire homes, streets and livelihoods. Insurance companies are running out of money to pay their clients with, people are homeless with no family or friends to take them in, and plants wont take life in the burnt earth. Once im asking for help for people much less fortunate than myself. Donate to restoration companies, donate to people who post on Gofund me and the likes. Please we need you.

I gotchu fam:

I just donated to the St Vincent de Paul Society to provide supplies to families affected by the brushfires. Y’all can also give to the Australian Red Cross for general disaster relief and One Tree Planted for for the reforesting effort.

And as always,

F U C K  S C O M O     

[cryptid-bloodhound]

can i just have some fluffy gibby and octane??? that's all i need in my life tbh

IM LATE BUT I GOTCHU FAM!

Thoughts Like Thorns

Ao3

Octavio was bored again. When he was bored, bad things tended to happen. He didn’t mean to cause so much havoc, honest! Well, most of the time he didn’t mean it. All that destruction and chaos was simply a byproduct of his endless hunt for his next adrenaline rush. He really couldn’t help it. That desire to do something - anything - was almost pervasive. It was a gnawing, clawing need that guided his day-to-day life. When he sat idle for just a moment too long, that feeling would well up inside of him again, like nails down his spine. If he didn’t know any better, he’d compare the uncomfortable sensation to anxiousness. It was like something inside of him telling him to ‘ go go go!’ and not doing that was something really quite awful.

Those quiet moments between drops when there was nowhere for him to run and video games just weren’t cutting it was horrible. He’d bounce in place, jump around, and use his fellow Legends as makeshift springboards. Anything to alleviate that need. For the most part, the others tolerated his constant frenetic energy. Sometimes, if the mood was bright enough, they’d join in on his reckless little games. It usually wasn’t a problem for the adrenaline junkie. Hell, he loved the rush so chasing these little highs was awesome! But, there were moments when it was all a little too much. When his attention felt like it was being ripped in every direction and his mind buzzed like a nest of angry hornets. When nothing could satisfy that need of his. It seemed like today was one of those unlucky days.

He was pacing back and forth in the complex, muttering under his breath rapidly as if he could chase away this feeling through cursing alone. His hands flexed, clenched, and beat an uneven tempo against his thighs as he moved on an endless loop. Sometimes he felt like clawing at himself because surely that would feel better than whatever this sensation was crawling under his skin, but he refrained. The last time he did, Ajay scolded him and gave him that ‘I’m-unhappy-but-also-worried’ look he’s so familiar with. He tried playing games but nothing would hold his attention or quell that buzzing. He tried hanging out with the others but found himself too...raw to handle them right now. This uneasy restlessness was killing him.

“Ughh, estoy a punto de enloquecer!”

Octavio was so engrossed in his own static-filled mind that he didn’t notice the rather large figure walking through the door. Really, it should be a feat all on its own to have Makoa Gibraltar of all people sneak up on you. The giant of a man wasn’t the type to sneak around. So, when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, the borderline shriek that left his lips was all the more embarrassing. Gibraltar looked torn between amused and mildly worried. That expression made Octavio want to shrug the hand off of his shoulder and bolt for the door.

“You alright there, bruddah?”

It was a simple question. It should have been easy to answer. Should . But the nonstop racing thoughts and aching in his nerves told him otherwise.

“Yes. No. Yes! ...Maybe. UGH, I don’t know!”

His hands went from tapping his thighs to gripping at his hair as he fought himself for a moment of respite. After seeing the almost volatile reaction to his touch earlier, Makoa resisted the urge to lay a reassuring hand on the younger Legend. It wasn’t often that Octavio had a bad day like this but it happened just enough for Makoa to recognize the signs. After a moment of thought, Gibraltar shifted his presence, expression dropping from openly worried to casual friendliness. That same sort of warmth colored over the darker tones of his voice. He didn’t want Octavio focusing on the bad - especially if it was thanks to the way he was acting.

“Hey, I seen you’re pretty good at art, yeah?”

The question was so unexpected and lax that it actually threw Octavio for a bit of a loop. His grip loosened and he squinted in slight confusion at Makoa. When he spoke, his answer was drawn out and pitched as if it was a question.

“...Yes?”

That seemed to brighten up Makoa’s disposition immediately. He gave one of his famous thousand-watt grins and threw open his arms in a grand gesture.

“Perfect! I got a cake here that needs some serious decoratin’ and you’re just the guy for the job!”

There wasn’t a singular part of this shift in conversation that didn’t confuse Octavio. Granted there were a great many things that did confuse him. In his defense, however, he rarely bothered enough to pay attention to, well, anything really. So, he just let his arms drop back to his sides as bewilderment overtook his features. Seeing the shift, Makoa kept on going. Anything to keep him distracted was good in his books. As he spoke, he subtly herded Octavio toward the kitchen area where a tasty but objectively plain cake sat. Next to it was a slew of decoration tools and what looked like a rough image of what Gibraltar wanted on it. It was pretty, certainly something he could imagine giving to a significant other if he were feeling romantic. But his way of drawing was a bit more, ah, stylized than what was pictured. As he started imagining what it’d look like in his own design, Makoa continued on.

“It’s my anniversary soon and I wanted to do somethin’ nice. I made a cake but I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. Figured I’d ask ya for help, shortstack. We can work on it togetha ‘n you could tell me what’s botherin’ ya.”

At the reminded of his earlier unending nerves, Octavio frowned. Without meaning to he started bouncing back and forth on his feet as that prickling sensation started taking over his attention once more. Without wasting a second, Makoa barreled on as if nothing changed.

“Or, I could tell ya about that time I stole my dad’s motorcycle to go on a joyride with my boyfriend.”

Again, the switch up blindsided the younger Legend. The mental image of The Gibraltar doing something so reckless and immature as stealing his dad’s motorcycle absolutely floored Octavio. His jaw dropped and that jittery discomfort was replaced with a sort of giddiness. That sounded like something he would do and not the unofficial Team Dad.  

“No. Way.”

“Way.”

There was a smug sort of smile pulling wide at Gibraltar’s lips as Octavio stared at him with wide eyes. He figured if there was a story to draw him out of a bad spot, it’d be a crazy one he could relate to. The air was filled with the rapid little ‘tinks’ of his feet as he danced in place with all that pent up energy he was so well-known for. He wanted to hear more about this crazy tale. It was drawing his mind away from all those sharp, intangible edges he could never figure out.

“Let’s do it!”

And so they did. They set up their impromptu cake station as Makoa spoke about the shenanigans he managed to get himself into in his wilder days. Of course, he left out the darker parts. No need to drag the kid back down. It warmed something in his heart to see Octavio calming down. His mind was distracted by the story and attention needed to detail the cake while his hands were busy drawing out lines of frosting. It was engaging enough to keep him entertained without being self-destructive (or any kind of destructive, which was a step up). So, when that story ended, Makoa conjured another, and then another, and another. However many it took until that frantic tension melted away from Octavio.

“So, when ya gonna pop the question amigo? Time ain’t waitin’ for any of us! We won’t stay this young and good lookin’ forever. Well, you won’t. I’ll always be this gorgeous. ”

It was Makoa’s turn to be surprised at the unexpected words. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the cocky, over-the-top attitude, or maybe it was just the irony that the usually oblivious one here hit the nail on the head. Whatever the case, Makoa let out a deep belly laugh and clapped Octavio on the shoulder. The force behind the gesture was still enough to cause the much smaller man to jolt forward.

“Ha! Keep it up, shortstack. I’ll remember that next time we’re on a team and the enemies are lookin’ for a punchin’ bag.”

Rather than respond verbally, Octavio just stuck his tongue out and gave a rather colorful hand gesture. Though the way his lips turned up at the corners in a grin spoke volumes of his current bright mood. After a moment, Makoa sighed in a way that Octavio could have sworn would be considered ‘dreamily’. He did very little to hide the amused snort at the action. ‘What a big softy.’

“To tell ya the truth, I been thinkin’ ‘bout it. I wanna do it soon. Hey, how’d you like to come ‘n help me pick out a ring, huh?”

The invitation was a surprise. Seems like today was full of those - mostly good, at least. It made Octavio smile wider than he has in a long time. Again, he couldn’t help but do an excited little jig in place, prompting Makoa to laugh at his antics once more.

“Hells yeah!”

His brain was already rushing ten thousand miles a minute picturing all sorts of expensive and fantastical bands. That led to him also picturing crazy wedding ideas and - ‘Oh! Wonder if I’ll get to be a groomsman!’ His colorful and exciting daydreams were interrupted by Makoa as he peered over his shoulder at the cake and spoke up.

“This looks great, Octavio, but uh...you spelled his name wrong.”

Sure enough, when he looked at the wonderfully decorated (in his humble opinion) cake, he had forgotten a letter in Makoa’s boyfriend’s name. With a groan, he slapped a hand to his forehead and accidentally smeared icing on his face.

“Mierda.”