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vaguely-concerned · 2 months

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A Stitch In Time First Read Reactions & Thoughts Monster Post Part 1

Basically exactly what it says on the tin! I kept making notes while I was reading and somehow it grew into this sprawling monstrosity that had to be split into three parts haha. In short: I loved this book, 10/10 incredibly gay and full of yearning Garak is there the whole time would recommend.

Quotes from the book in normal text, my reflections, reactions and self-indulgent bits in italics :) Please, please only click on that read-more if you're ready for some truly long-winded nonsense, I fear I have gone and been extremely myself about this and I can only beg your forbearance for it while I get it out of my system lol

Part 2, Part 3

- My dear Doctor:

Forgive my delay in responding to your kind communications. I wanted to give this modest chronicle I’ve enclosed a modicum of organization and update it before I sent it on to you. Thank you for your concern. I have thought of you often since our last meeting, and I am pleased to hear that your life on Deep Space 9 remains challenging and productive. Considering all the changes that have taken place I would have expected nothing less. And I’m certainly not surprised that your research proposals have been accepted. You’re a brilliant young scientist—even if you are genetically enhanced. As for my life here …

This is such a deceptively innocuous and normal-sounding beginning to what is about to be an extremely unnormal and unhinged thing to send a friend as a letter. He made it all of one paragraph of keeping it chill and I honestly think that’s pretty impressive all things considered. Thankfully Julian Bashir — who, let’s not forget, gave Jadzia his fucking diaries to read after much shorter acquaintanceship than what what we’re operating on here — is possibly the one person in the galaxy with the unhinged energy to take it.

(‘I have thought of you often’ he says. And how., as we shall see)

- Yes—I’m afraid you weren’t expecting this response to your kind inquiry; it goes a bit further than “Greetings from Cardassia—Wish you were here.”

Fhksjdfhasdkj well. In spirit that is exactly what you’re saying tho garak fhdskjaas. It’s just that you’re also pathologically incapable of shutting the hell up and for this I love and treasure you.

- So why Captain Sisko is so upset with me because I accomplished the goal (which he established!) of getting Romulus into the war against the Dominion baffles me. And it’s not because of the few lives that were sacrificed. Federation expansion has taken a toll in countless life-forms—about most of which they are blissfully unaware. The moment you step into a garden and begin to cultivate and prune, you become a killer. Perhaps the captain was upset because he had hesitated to do what was necessary to insure the integrity of his garden. Sentimentality is another trait that makes humans dangerous.

*Garak voice* Julian please tell me why your boss is so mad at me I literally solved all his problems for him. for which he’s wELCOME btw

Eyes open for recurring metaphors about gardeners, Tolan is haunting this narrative and it’s only polite to say hello whenever he shows up

- Indulge me, if you will; I need you as a witness.

Can I just say how fucking wild it is in terms of character development for Garak to openly admit he needs someone interpersonally. Incredibly fucked up that he writes both parts of this directly to Julian, though — both the part where he’s pretty sure he’s going to die trying to free Cardassia from the Dominion, and the ‘now’ timeline on post-war Cardassia where he seems to be dazedly coming to the realization that he might live, actually, and what that means to him.

- As a child I would go to the Tarlak Sector with Father, and while he supervised his crews I’d play by myself amid the black-and-white angularity of the monuments, imagining myself a great gul or legate giving the funeral oration for a fallen comrade.

Already we are starting to spot the thread, if you’ll excuse the expression, of why Garak might be Like That

I also came to admire Damar’s idealism, which led him to renounce his allegiance to the Dominion. If he had one weakness it was his propensity for long-winded speeches. But given the fact that none of us are perfect, the man would have made a fine leader.

As I stood at the memorial service, I thought about all the grand affairs I had witnessed here when I was a boy. None of our famed heroes and statesmen has ever had such a humble service—and none of them, from Tret Akleen on, deserved more than Corat Damar.

You are a species of long-winded speakers and Pythas Lok

- Dr. Parmak, the unit leader, worked furiously to stabilize the little girl, and when she was evacuated by the transport unit he broke down. He’s a very good man, this Dr. Parmak; he reminds me of an older version of you, Doctor.

Introducing Dr. Kelas Parmak, last seen in the then-noodle incident mentioned in The Die is Cast. Quite possibly the chillest person who has ever lived, considering he gets over the whole thing where Garak like tortured him pretty fast. (To be fair Garak DID say he was sorry. Between this case and Odo’s, that apparently goes a surprisingly long way lol)

- But Garak, you’ll say, there’s no excuse for killing a defenseless woman. And there isn’t… unless you’ve been brought up in our system.

I love that he keeps a little Julian around in his head to talk to at all times. That’s one of the most freakishly intimate things in this whole book of freakish intimacy. Garak has a little Tain on one shoulder and a little Julian on the other shoulder and they have heated debates as to the validity of murder as a solution to any given problem that’s put before him

- I also thought about this Cardassian sense of duty and how it is largely responsible for bringing those of us who are left to these current circumstances. I asked Dr. Parmak how an entire people can come under the sway of this duty and blindly give allegiance to a state that goes mad and murders its own children.

“Poisonous pedagogy, Elim,” he replied. “We believe what we are taught.”

Poison/Disease contagion is a metaphor that will wind through this whole thing,and different people mean different things by it. Parmak means it about The Facism, which is the right one. You’ll be unsurprised to hear that Dukat Sr. has a rather different spin on it, and that he’s wrong!

- But Tain at home was anything but mysterious. It was not unusual for Uncle Enabran to appear and take me away on some excursion that involved a long walk through a section of the city. During these walks he’d test my awareness, and challenge me to describe a house or a person we’d just passed. If I hadn’t been paying attention and couldn’t remember the details, the walk was over and we’d silently return home under the oppressive weight of his disapproval. He also seemed to know how I was performing at school, and if he wasn’t satisfied with my progress or behavior he’d punish me. I was a hard worker but I had a mischievous streak, and I enjoyed getting others involved in questionable activities and arranging it so they were found out and took the blame. On those rare occasions when I was caught, Tain would somehow find out and punish me—not for my misdeed, but for having been caught. And after he discovered my fear of small, dark spaces, his favorite punishment became keeping me in one until I had convinced him that I had analyzed and fully understood how my mischievous scheme had gone wrong. I found it odd that Mother and Father never had anything to say about these punishments.

. . .

At first I thought I was in trouble, and my face must have reflected this fear because Father attempted to reassure me with a forced smile. But the uncharacteristic falsity of his behavior and his barely concealed agitation only made the situation worse. I had never seen him like this. Mother’s face was a mask; it revealed nothing. She spoke as if I needed to clean off the day’s work before we ate.

Garak treats him and Bashir ‘drifting apart’ the same way he describes his young self being trained by Tain to go over his ‘mistakes’ — what did I do wrong? You also see it (almost most heartbreakingly to me) from Tolan when he gets sharper out of worry at the end of the scene where the agent comes to take Garak away to the Bamarren Institute:

I was stunned. I wanted to ask more, I wanted to ask about the dedication ceremony that afternoon, but I didn’t dare. Father had that look when one of the workers didn’t get it right the first time. But what had I done wrong?

Oh buddy. He’s so fucking confused. The only thing you’ve done wrong yet is having been born with some connection to Enabran Tain, Elim, I’m so sorry

- We were the “missing pieces”—and in order to find our place in the mosaic of civilized society, we had to be broken down and reconstructed from the bottom up.

Keep your eyes open for ‘broken down and reconstructed’ too, it will be on the final test lol

- The good captain gave me one of his bemused stares.

Sisko ILU. He’s not in this book a lot so I’ll take the chance to say it here, because I do.

- It was explained to us that until we became disciplined in our relations with the “complementary gender” we would make better progress this way. When I asked One Tarnal how we would learn this discipline without interaction between the sexes, he blinked and mumbled something about “distractions.” When I asked what that meant I was told that I had a loose mouth and given five days of hygiene-chamber maintenance as punishment.

“You don’t know enough to ask so many questions.”

Elim 'Genuinely & Guilelessly Too Deeply Pansexual To Be Able To Follow This Logic’ Garak

- Pythas/Eight descriptions because this is a bad mutual crush situation:

- Unfortunately, the only student left was quiet Eight Lubak, who kept completely to himself. He agreed to accompany me and quickly moved to the door. He was short and slender, and his dark eyes and long lashes made him look younger than the rest of us. He was almost too delicate for a Cardassian. I was not encouraged … but I had no choice.

‘Dark eyes and long lashes’ huh lol

I started to follow him, but he made it clear that I should stay where I was and wait. All during this, Eight was quiet and controlled—and as sure of himself as if he’d done this many times. How did he know where he was going?

. . .

His face was dark, intense with concentration; his brow ridges, which were unusually pronounced, cast shadows over his eyes. My heart began to pound when I realized what Eight was planning. These were certain to be older students, but he expressed no hesitation, no doubt.

. . .

I didn’t know then if I could ever call Eight a friend. Something about him was strange and impenetrable. But it didn’t matter. At least I knew there was one person in my section I could trust. How I had misjudged him. It was obvious that Eight had what Cardassians call a ferocious spirit—and that I could learn a great deal from him.

. . .

Eight also came from a “service” family background, and it was soon clear to everyone that he should have been designated One Lubak, a fact not lost on the actual holder of that designation who, judging from his behavior and speech, came from the highest echelons of our society.

. . .

Five was an athlete who also did well in class. I could see that he was attracted to Eight. As indeed I was.

Big round of applause for Andrew Robinson managing to sneak the skywritten subtext into the text like this, it’s an exceedingly rare gift to get to have from the media of this time

. . .

But by then the group had passed. What murk? Me? Have all the others been captured? Surely not Eight. I couldn’t believe that was possible.

. . .

The only member of my group who performed as well in all areas was the taciturn Eight.

. . .

The truth, of course, was that I didn’t know how to forge those kinds of bonds. I wanted to be closer to Eight, and to a lesser degree Five, who besides being one of the great Pit strategists Bamarren ever had was fair in all his dealings.

. . .

Eight remained for a few more minutes. I had the feeling that he wanted to say something more to me. Suddenly he turned and disappeared behind a barrier. The air was filled with whatever went unsaid. He was as shy as anyone I had ever known.

The boys are being useless lesbians at each other omg……… what must this whole mess look like from Pythas’ POV tho. He’s been keeping an eye on his friend/crush so he doesn’t get himself killed by running his mouth off too much to the wrong person and before he knows it the guy is embroiled in an inadvisable bisexual sandwich of betrayal and savage intrigue. I wonder if anything would have been different if Garak and Pythas had managed to actually talk to each other here.

- Eight was the only person who deserved number One as much as I did—maybe more. My solitary behavior was not always in service to the group. Eight and I exchanged encouraging looks. The support of my one constant friend was all I wanted. I sat there and shut out everything else.

*Garak whenever someone prefers Pythas over him* understandable honestly I’d do the same thing he’s the best have a nice day

End Pythas/Eight teen crush corner

- My mind wandered. I was sure that I heard sounds of the women students gusting with the winds. Suddenly mother materialized … she looked like she was apologizing. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her, but her image dissolved and … Father took her place. I knew he was telling me something very important, but I was growing dizzy and afraid that I’d join Six on the ground … his words were carried away by the winds.

Suffering and agony

Some assorted 'Just assure me that I'm not going mad, Doctor'/Garak's ever-tenuous grip on his mental health moments:

-I don’t know why I wasn’t surprised that he knew. Instead, I was grateful; it told me I wasn’t going mad.

A recurring worry for him I’m sure it means nothing! I feel the same fellowship with him as I do with Harrow in The Locked Tomb series, which I’m sure says even less, don’t worry about it.

And how do we even begin to rebuild a world that doesn’t exist anymore? A world that exists in my mind with the same arid bitterness as the dust in my mouth. I have never lived with despair, Doctor, the way I live with it now. It’s almost like a phantom companion that shadows me and casts doubt on whatever I do.

“Why save him?” it asks, as we remove a young boy from the rubble of a school. “You’re only keeping him alive for a future of privation and chaos. Wouldn’t it be more satisfying to join the burial unit?”

I want to scream at this phantom, to shut it up. Once I turned around suddenly and raised my hand to strike it. When I realized it wasn’t there, it was too late. Everyone in the unit was looking at me; I’m sure I must have looked like a madman. Dr. Parmak tried to send me home, but I refused—alone it’s even worse.

I’m just imagining Julian arriving on Cardassia like ‘hey yeah I got your letter and we should fuck about it right now but first of all have you told Parmak you’ve been having vivid hallucinations again because that’s very relevant medical information Garak!!!’

- But it was in the Pit and my work with Calyx that I suffered the most. My dreaming made me “an air man.”

“You have no grip, no focus. How can you find your strength if you can’t hold your place? Living in your dreams is like living in exile.”

*whisper* pls don't...

- As I tried to put faces on the shadowy children, they began to approach me. They became more distinct as they moved through the rain and haze. Can you believe it, Doctor? They weren’t my schoolmates; they were the Cardassian orphans from the Resettlement Center on Bajor we once visited. The orphans left after the Cardassian occupation forces withdrew. The same young girl was their leader and her lips formed the same question.

Have you come to take us home?

I jumped up. I felt the shed closing in, threatening to swallow me. I ran out into the rain and gloom.

“There is no home anymore! Can’t you see that? Look around you! It’s gone!” I screamed at them and fell to my knees in the sodden waste. They continued to stare back with that same look of fragile trust that I would somehow relieve them of their fear and bring them home. I couldn’t look at them anymore and dropped down into the muck. My despair was no longer just a voice; it was this monstrous world the evil had created, and it surrounded and overwhelmed me.

I don’t know how long I remained curled up in the mud. I felt myself being lifted and half carried, half dragged back into my shed. It was Dr. Parmak. He cleaned and changed me as best he could. He prepared a cup of Tarkalean tea, which made me think of you, Doctor. How ironic, another doctor pulls old Elim out of the muck of his despair, but this time he’s a Cardassian.

The fact that in the episode itself, Garak (in a haze of endorphins and practiced dissociation) is barely like ‘yes yes I’m sure we’re ALL very upset about the orphans. Or whatever. Well what do you want me to do about it Doctor it’s just the way of the world’ and then it just haunts him horrifically for the rest of his life forever and ever the end! Very on brand.

Garak does seem to genuinely like and care for children in general, which makes my heart all weird and sad

Also Parmak making Tarkalean tea and Garak being like ‘oh. Like Julian :’(‘ about it my HEART. The fact that he’s a serial befriender of very patient kindhearted doctors willing to put up with his nonsense is probably the only reason he’s still alive lol. Thank u Parmak

- A difficult move under pressure against strong physical resistance from an opponent … and something would snap. A painful blow might set it off, a whispered insult, perhaps just a thought or a feeling of hopelessness, and I would suddenly lose control and lash out like a madman. I became suffused with a raging, crimson anger that poured out from some black hole somewhere deep inside me.

I feel like we see the outlines of this still in him by the time of the show — more tucked away and harnessed, but definitely still there. He’s got an instinctive Fight response a mile wide, it’s just that these days he mostly expresses it by becoming incredibly fucking MEAN when he feels threatened rather than outright physical attack.

- And there was a soothing quality as it spoke of dry legal definitions. It acted as a balm for my bruises and bitterness. I began to feel such longings. It was like hearing music that you love when you least expect it. How I missed Mother, and working with Father in the flower beds. How I longed for home. I dropped my guard and surrendered to the voice. The tears I was determined never to shed accompanied choking waves of shame and relief, sadness and joy. I finally was able to admit to myself how unhappy I was.

*me with my magnifying glass studying the Palandine/Bashir parallels* listening to Bashir talk about Federation nonsense things presumably fills much the same niche in Garak’s psyche as this haha

- “I assure you, I am not in the habit of attacking people I don’t know in public places. We got our feet tangled in the crush, and he went down—just as, moments before, I nearly wiped out the scent display when he ignored the fact that I was standing in his path. I trust he’s not hurt.”

“I expect more from you, Garak,” Odo lectured. “We’re all under a great deal of strain.”

“As am I, Constable. Please, sit down at least. I feel like a schoolboy being disciplined by the docent.”

Odo sighed and awkwardly perched on the barstool next to mine.

Their dynamic is. Everything to me. Also we learn later that the guy Garak picks a fight with here because he’s upset Julian is hanging out with Miles (lmao oh… buddy) isn’t just anyone or on impulse, but is one of the most hostile-to-Garaks Bajorans on the entire station with a small gang behind him, and Garak knows exactly who he is. Which lends it a certain… something. Almost an edge of very roundabout self-harm.

“I can’t stay long. I have to finish dealing with this …”

“ … situation,” I finished. “You’re very fortunate, Odo.”

“How so?” he asked.

“These people have come to trust you. They rely upon you. You’ve made a real connection here.”

Odo merely grunted. I was careful not to mention Major Kira, knowing how reserved he was on the subject.

“Do you still want to go home?” I asked.

The question startled Odo, and for a moment the mask of official reserve dropped from his face. This was the first time I had brought up the subject since his admission to me during the “interrogation” in the Romulan warbird and Tain’s ill-fated attempt to destroy the Founders’ homeworld.

“ I … can’t say,” he replied ambiguously.

“Well, I can. There’s certainly nothing here to keep me.”

“I never told you how sorry I was about Ziyal’s death.” Odo could be quite sensitive in such matters.

“You did, actually,” I nodded. “But thank you.”

“Still, you and Dr. Bashir have created a strong bond.”

“Not really,” I answered quickly. “I’m afraid that what I have to offer has run its course. It’s certainly no match for darts.” I heard the bitterness of my tone, and so did Odo. We sat in silence for a moment.

“I understand you’ll be involved in the invasion. You must be pleased.” Odo steered us away from the heaviness that had descended.

. . .

“When do you want to schedule your consultation?” I asked. Odo—no doubt influenced by his budding relationship with the Major—was about to branch out sartorially. But it occurred to me that Quark was the last person he wanted to know about it.

“We’ll talk,” he replied, nodding to Quark as he briskly marched back to the Promenade.

AHdorable all around. Hilarious that Odo picked up on trouble in human/lizard paradise and, with the vigor of a person who has freshly had love work out for them for the first time, going ‘not on my fucking watch you’ll talk to each other if it’s the last thing I do’. Also the sheer readiness with which he expects Julian to be Garak’s safe place. What on earth does this relationship look like to outside observers. Especially to Odo, practiced observer of humanoid folly, who completely nails Garak’s whole deal in Improbable Cause to the point that Garak lashes out defensively over it.

- My solitary confinement was agony. The only way I got through it was to rethink all my attitudes about the Pit and the Wilderness and to focus on how I could make my stratagems more effective. Just as I had learned to do when Uncle Enabran locked me in that suffocating closet. Was this the universal torture for failure, I wondered?

Going through the whole book it is so stunningly awful that this IS the logic his inner world is shaped around for the vast majority of his life, right up until the ‘present’ part of the storyline where it’s being slowly deconstructed and reassembled.

- I apologized to the others for disrupting their family; I explained that I had great need of this creature. Not only was Mila (as I eventually called him) the answer to my current problem, he was as important as any of the docents at Bamarren, with the possible exception of Calyx.

;_______________________________________________________________; there’s no part of this that isn’t crushing

Unlike the last time, I had preparation and an ally.

Tain really had to work at deadening Garak’s ability to form loyalty to anything else but him, because left to his own devices and natural instinct Garak will clearly packbond with ANYTHING. He’s so desperate to belong to someone and be loyal to them.

- As the sun came up, the otherworldly beauty of the Wilderness was gradually revealed by each succeeding gradation of light. I was deeply moved by the presence of so much color in what had initially looked like a dead world to me. Beginning with a cold pale gray, the dawn flowed through a range of blues and into the softest rose and pink and then to a hot red that soon gave way to the merciless bleached bone-white of midday. I was able to see how much territory I had covered the previous night.

Can I just say how unspeakably tender it is that he takes the time to write this out in this. It serves literally no purpose in this narrative but sentiment — to be beautiful. He saw something beautiful once that moved him and he wants to share it with someone. What the fuck.

- I became increasingly concerned; the sun was getting higher, and the overhanging ledge was now my last source of shade. At one point I took Mila out of his wrapping to check on his condition. At least that’s what I told myself. I was afraid that if I was honest and admitted that the real reason was to solicit help from a regnar, the slide into total insanity would be swift and sure. I was getting desperate.

The funniest and saddest thing I’ve ever read fhdskjfas emotional support regnar that he names after his fucking MUM hours. There are things going on with Garak no psychologist could ever hope to get to the bottom of

- Three more members of the Furtan group were on the other side of the rock formation, but Mila had found a hidden depression that required some quiet digging to get into, and we avoided detection. We settled in and resealed the opening with sand and loose rocks. After an indeterminate period, the Furtan hunters left. As we waited for nightfall I fell into a deep sleep.

BB!Elim and regnar Mila like ‘OUR secret hiding spot’. (Seeing how much garak both craves and thrives on getting to have that sense of ‘we’ and fellowship tho. And knowing that’s going to be not only deliberately kept from him but made psychologically impossible for him for a very long time. We should bring Tain back to life so we can kill him again and more painfully actually. Mercymorn acid jail for a thousand years time.)

- While I understood that I would have to watch my step with One Charaban, I also acknowledged that I had never been in a manlier or more attractive presence. It was like encountering an ideal that I’d only dreamed about. As I walked back to my section and accepted the congratulations of my mates, I was baffled not so much by the appearance of this new and commanding person in my life as by my recognition of his strong connection to me. But what connection?

Baby pansexual disaster at his finest

- The other day, the Doctor, Odo, and I were at the Replimat having lunch, an event that Odo, after our conversation, had taken it upon himself to organize.

. . .

“But what about you, Doctor?” I asked, returning to the business at hand. “It seems there’s a movement afoot to have you replace Captain Sisko.” The doctor winced.

“Is this true?” Odo asked. We both looked to the doctor for confirmation. He sighed.

“There’s a group of … genetically enhanced people who feel that one of their own should be guiding the station during this emergency, and they’ve petitioned the Federation Council, but it’s Jack and his group, and no one takes them…” Exasperated, he broke off. “Garak, how did you hear about this?”

“My clientele talk and I listen.” This was also true: an idiot savant who wears his presumed genetic superiority like a badge of privilege walked into my shop and never stopped talking. Of course I encouraged him, and by the time he left I had heard all about some organized attempt to elevate Dr. Bashir to the leadership position. I could see that the doctor was upset that I’d divulged this information. Clearly this genetic business was not his favorite topic of conversation.

“Is this something we should keep an eye on?” Odo asked, studying us carefully.

“No, not at all,” the Doctor assured him. “It’s just Jack’s people. This was nearly a year ago, and I’m afraid they have too much time on their hands—like some other people I know.” He pointedly looked away from me as Odo continued to study us, trying to decode the undercurrent of this last exchange between us. No wonder he was such a capable security operative. Odo registered every change in tone and temperature and tracked the change down to its cause.

“Tell me something, Garak.” It was clear that he had found an opening for one of those deferred questions he kept on a prioritized list somewhere in his changeling head. He was still a basically shy and tactful person, especially when it came to other people’s business, but lately he’d become more openly inquisitive. I wondered if it was Major Kira’s influence.

Matchmaker/self-appointed and woefully under-equipped marriage counselor Odo……….you are Everything to me you dumb beige bitch. Garak goes a bit aggro in return when he tries to get too close to something tender but honestly odo buddy gooey friend of my heart maybe you shouldn’t barge into this particular glassware shop like a rampaging elephant huh someone’s going to get cut. Also Garak could have refrained from pressing on Julian’s bruises for attention here and we may not have had the rest of the scene, but alas.

This must be the lunch where we deal with uncomfortable subjects.

“But if Cardassia is liberated from Dominion control …” Odo went on.

“When Cardassia is liberated,” I interrupted.

“Would you return?”

“Would you return to the Great Link?” Odo reacted with sharp annoyance to the question.It wasn’t a fair one, because although we were both exiles, we were in very different circumstances. With the humanoid shape he was still learning to live with, and his deepening relationship with Major Kira, Odo was discovering a new mode of existence, a new link. He had an alternative, however difficult the choice. I didn’t.

“Yes, I know. You can’t say.” I was sorry I had asked again. It was a question he was obviously struggling with.

The feeling Garak seems to have towards Odo in this period where like… you know when you have a friend who has a lot of the same mental health issues as you do and you see them get better and start to flourish and you are genuinely so happy for them but also feel just how deep in the muck you yourself still are with no prospect of getting out. And the way Garak consistently wistfully includes Odo’s romantic relationship to Kira when he observes how he’s coming out of his shell and why he has reasons to stay.

“Would you return to the same Cardassia?” the doctor asked.

“What do you mean ‘same’?” But I knew perfectly well what he meant.

“To a Cardassia containing the political and social elements that made the current situation possible.”

“My dear Doctor, that’s also the Cardassia that made me possible.” I half-hoped my joke would end this conversation … but I knew better.

Julian baby please read the room and take this up some other time somewhere private maybe (and yet I understand how you wouldn’t think of that until later once Garak’s had a rare public freakout)

Absolutely heartbreaking in every way that garak seems so convinced he must have done something wrong or simply doesn’t have anything more of interest to offer julian and that’s why they’re drifting apart, when a just as likely reading from what’s actually on the page here is that julian feels he keeps getting it wrong and hesitates in case he makes the damage worse. Garak have you considered who this man is before you decided you must have fucked up and resigned yourself to the dark closet of self-isolation tain put in your head. I’m in shambles.

Also Julian is saying a lot of very true things about Cardassia in this scene that Garak needs to hear and that he’s clearly processing all through the rest of his time on DS9 and beyond, as angry as it makes him, and the good doctor means so well but he IS being incredibly condescending, and he keeps pushing even as Garak is signaling he’d rather not go in depth on this, especially in such an exposed public setting. (This is a conversation they SHOULD be having in private, both for emotional reasons and b/c Garak’s position on this station is a lot more vulnerable than I think Julian realizes, as the hostile comments he immediately starts getting during this convo show.) I mean I guess it’s not this man’s fault he is fundamentally British and autistic what can a bitch do fdjslkfhasj (I say this with all the love in my fellow autistic heart, please do not misunderstand me here). But it’s a very Julian well-meaning but flawed thing to do — he’s focusing on the principle and intellectual side of it, but he’s not taking into account that just maybe having to deconstruct the entirety of your worldview and belief system and then feel responsible for implementing them to create a better world afterwards could be an emotionally fraught process that requires not only reasoned political debate but personal, emotional support from a friend. He isn’t getting that Garak isn’t so much categorically resistant to the basic ideas he’s setting forth — it’s that he wants to be convinced on a practical level that it could even work, because otherwise it’s just a useless pretty picture.

(Which is a big part of their dynamic on many levels, I’ve always felt. All those times he challenges Julian’s more hopeful and idealistic world view — ultimately he doesn’t do that because he wants to break Julian’s faith down until he agrees with him, he does it because somewhere deep down Garak wants to be convinced. He wants there to be hope somewhere in the world, even if he won’t buy the quick and glorified ‘it’s easy to be a saint in paradise’ Federation version of it. And Julian’s version isn’t that, in the end; it gets tested again and again and he really, genuinely means it, even when it’s hard. Which is one of the most healing things about his presence in Garak’s life overall.)

Ironically I also think Julian believes so much in Garak and his capabilities that it simply doesn’t occur to him that Garak as a private person might just be like. Too scared and overwhelmed to even contemplate this, at least until Garak is upset enough that he can’t gracefully hide it. (“With your background and experience, Garak, I’m certain that you could serve as a liaison between a new Cardassian government and the Federation.” The Doctor paused and waited for a response. None was forthcoming. “I once suggested that you visit Earth as a member of the Cardassian government-in-exile….” oh so no biggie then Julian that sounds easy and painless and I’m surprised no one has thought to do this yet, this Obsidian Order wilted leftover sandwich of a guy is surely going to be welcomed with open arms wherever he goes among his people fhsdakjfas!)

I feel like this is one of Julian’s less sympathetic traits that he would probably feel such intense self-loathing about once he realized it’s one he shares with his father — this instinct to try to shape someone into a ‘better’ version of themselves. I think Julian’s version of this primarily comes from a much, MUCH kinder place than in his father; he has the will and ability to see the best in the world and in people, and he can’t help but want them to live up to that once he’s seen it. He fundamentally believes people can be better, can be good, when given the help and tools they need, and that’s such a beautiful part of him. BUT along with that there is also a danger of that tipping over into becoming paternalistic and controlling, of overly privileging the ideal you see over the person who is actually there right now, and trying to forcibly change the one into the other ‘for them’.

Considering Garak’s past experiences of being shaped and controlled by someone else’s idea of what he should be, I’m if anything surprised he doesn’t react worse to this, honestly! I think it speaks to the basic trust and goodness that exists between them that he doesn’t. Julian is clumsy but not malicious, and even here Garak does recognize that on some deep level.

(Probably because he’s also been touched by Julian at his best, in The Wire — where his support and acceptance is absolute and unconditional, free of the instinct to control anything.)

My voice had risen to an uncharacteristic pitch. It was still ringing in my ears as the Doctor stared at me as if he were studying a baffling microbe. I, too, was baffled. I had no idea where this outburst came from. I know that a distance has widened between us during the past year or so and I know that the holosuite program incident and the revelations of his genetic enhancement are the symptoms of this distance rather than the cause. It’s only natural—we’re very different people. I also know that he had only the best intentions in suggesting that I use the Federation model in order to influence the future of Cardassia. Misguided, yes, and somewhat patronizing and arrogant, but hardly sufficient to elicit this embarrassing and public loss of control.

I mumbled some sad excuse which the good Doctor and Odo were kind enough not to challenge and left the Replimat to return to my shop. As I passed Quark’s I caught his eye and we nodded. Why I included him in my outburst also puzzled me; I rather admire his industry and resourcefulness. I especially admire the way he consistently bends Federation rules so that they work for him.

That’s such a fair evaluation of Bashir’s intentions and personality honestly. Even this upset and feeling that distance between them, Garak still has complete trust in the Doctor’s basic good intentions and nature. (Are you really such very different people at the end of the day, though, Elim. Should the genetic enhancement arc maybe be telling you something here.)

Also such a hilarious element of the Garak-Quark relationship.’Sorry to get you caught up in the crossfire bro I’ve never thought of you as anything but an avaricious opportunist (complimentary)’

What is important is that I feel that I am necessary, that I function with all my faculties in the service of a greater cause. And while I wait for this invasion, is making Odo more attractive to Major Kira a greater cause?

It is in fact nothing but the greatest cause Garak. Getting Kira happily lovingly laid is priority one at all times.

- I had no real friends to speak of, and told myself that loneliness was the price I had to pay for success. I considered the games and behavior of my mates to be childish, and that any unnecessary interaction would only distract me from my work. The truth, of course, was that I didn’t know how to forge those kinds of bonds. I wanted to be closer to Eight, and to a lesser degree Five, who besides being one of the great Pit strategists Bamarren ever had was fair in all his dealings.

(I feel like this whole part is going to hit Julian in some kind of way lmao)

Literally just. Put me in a little box on the bottom of the ocean and leave me there forever I can’t go on. Also he’s SUCH a clever-but-socially-inept teenager in this part around the people in his group he doesn’t like fhdkjsa. Ugh they’re all so annoying and fake just leave me alone *eyeroll emoji* I didn’t want to be included in their idiotic conversation bb elim… I would die for your lightly insufferable but entertainingly snarky teenage butt in a way that actually makes me feel more kindly towards my own inner idiot 16 year old.

Also it’s no wonder he’s so out to sea when it comes to interacting with his peers — by all accounts he didn’t play much with other kids as a child and then he’s dropped straight into a social Lord of the Flies piranha tank shot through with Class Shit.

Inspired by my guide Mila, I would experiment at withdrawing my presence when I had to remain in the same room with people I didn’t like.

Honing his future customer service worker smile

Here follow some Bamarren and beyond observations I’ve elected to call ‘Sex Stuff’:

- Oh ok so garak gets some sexual Thing out of being beaten to a pulp after mouthing off through the same mechanism that made spanking known as the ‘English Vice’ across Europe when that was the go-to punishment in British boarding schools. I see. Many things are revealed to me

I looked from the pale, frozen face of Three to the others. They all looked like statues commemorating fear. And I was pleased. I realized at that moment that they were in my control, and that I would no longer have any trouble with them. Especially Three. I felt the power like a drug surging through my system.

And then, of course, the other side of the masochism/sadism scale smoothly coming in, he contains those multitudes. In Garak’s defense idk if you could go through a psychosexual development that wasn’t deeply, deeply weird in this sort of environment

“What do you want me to do?” I was trembling as if my body were chilled.

Well, I mean. You know fhkdsjha. And he’s rewarded with the first non-aggressive physical contact he’s had here, you say. (For reference he’s talking to Barkan, of the aforementioned ‘manliest presence’.) I’m sure this didn’t awaken anything in him or anything.

“Elim, why do you think we have these ridges?” She stroked the scalloped cords of cartilege and bone that ran along her neck and down her shoulders with a delicacy that stopped my breath. The energy had turned into molten liquid that was now flowing into my groin. The rest of the world was swallowed by complete darkness and I was back inside the tunnel.

“Because … we do,” I replied stupidly.

Fhdjskfhsdjkfhadskjfhas he’s so easy fdsjkfhas. And what a one-two punch of sexual confusion he got there. That one afternoon did irreparable damage to the libidinous development of this poor man and now he has to live like this.

For the second time tonight I was spellbound by another’s passion. In very different ways, Charaban and Palandine held me in their orbit, like powerful suns.

I was learning something new about myself—an emerging desire for power, but a power that had less to do with mastery over others than it did with connecting to them. The way I felt the connection to Charaban … and especially to Palandine.

And, I’m so sorry to have to break it to you like this, your biodad. I’m sorry Elim you’ve got something truly unfortunately Freudian going on here. It’s not your fault.

“I love the Blind Moon,” Charaban said softly.

“Why is it called that?” I asked, deeply relieved by the mysterious change that had come over us.

“It’s the time for lovers’ assignations,” Palandine answered. “The moon will give them enough light to meet, but not so much for them to be discovered.”

“So if you and Elim were true lovers I wouldn’t have been able to find you,” Charaban teased.

“That’s right, Barkan,” she said with a direct look. I shifted position in the ensuing silence and tried to hide my disappointment with Palandine’s reply, but at the same time, the pleasure I felt in the company of these two people kept growing.

“See?” Palandine suddenly addressed me. “You can do it.”

“What?” I was startled by her delighted burst.

“Smile. Look at that, Barkan. Wouldn’t you tell someone with that smile everything he wanted to know?” she demanded.

“The first time I met him—well, the second…” he corrected himself, “he had a smile that I wanted to wipe off his face.” He was referring to that early morning in front of the Central Gate.

“But it wasn’t that smile,” Palandine insisted.

“No,” he conceded. “Definitely not that one.” And the truth was that I could feel this smile throughout my entire body.

Noooo this is about to go so wrong…it’s all fun and games and bisexual poetry recitation under the blind moon until someone gets stabbed in the back like the Caesar (well caesar notably got stabbed from many many directions but you see what I’m trying to get at here)

- [The Klingon] looked up, and I immediately knew two things about him: he was inebriated beyond reason and he was one of their shock troopers, a callused veteran of hand-to-hand combat. I took a deep breath; as dolts go he was quite impressive. My spirits were suddenly and immeasurably lifted.

“You spoonhead!” he growled at me. I hated that word.

“And you … a great warrior who brings down dabo girls with a single blow,” He looked at me trying to decide if I had insulted or complimented him.

“P’tak!” I shouted, “I mean that you’re the biggest coward in the Klingon Empire,” He released the dabo girl, and as he moved to the narrow stairway I thought that he was also the biggest Klingon in the Empire.

I looked for my advantage. This was not an equal match, and my gigantic friend was in the full flush of a berserker blood lust. I sighed. I’m too old for this, I thought.

. . .

“Get security, Chief, and tell them to prepare the biggest cell they have … or a smaller coffin for me,” I said as I moved into the alcove and squeezed through the opening where the panel had been.

Listen I would apologize for including this here but he’s clearly getting off on this and I couldn’t do anything about it if I wanted to.

I cannot convey just how much my already intense enjoyment of canon is enriched by the knowledge that Garak is up to these kinds of hijinks constantly in the background when the camera isn’t on him. In his defense he was left unsupervised. O’Brien’s fond mildly exasperated help is just the cherry on top. ‘Well I GUESS Julian would be upset if I let you get beaten to death by a drunk Klingon so fine I’ve got your back’

(I made for the upper Promenade—and wondered if Calyx might be enjoying this spectacle from wherever he was. ;______; I like how much of an impact Calyx has on his development, considering how briefly he was actually in his life. Plus: Calyx; the Aiglamene of Bamarren? Locked Tomb/DS9 fandom overlap people, Let’s Discuss.)

“Help me,” he croaked. I was touched by the giant’s childlike surrender. I knew the feeling well.

“I will,” I replied and immediately wondered why I had agreed. I’m getting soft, I thought.

The greatest joy to me of a lot of this is, like… idk if these are all exactly the things that happened at every turn. In fact I’d say they very likely aren’t, Garak’s entire character taken into consideration. But they are certainly the things he wants someone — someone he trusts as far as he knows how, someone he earnestly wants to be closer to than anyone else, and also wants to see all of him — to know about him, to share in. This could just have easily been a story he told Julian in person over lunch to make him laugh. It’s silly and frivolous and fun, and as much at his own expense as a ludicrous person as to show off. To a true lying liar who lies connoisseur, unreliable narration tells more than it obscures etc. lol

- (About Barkan) It was the appearance of warmth that made his charm so attractive. A part of me wanted to tell him everything, to challenge the duplicity of his negative evaluation, but the clarity I found in the Lower Prefect’s office was still with me. Looking at him, I was reminded how Palandine had taught me to smile when I asked questions.

Apart from Pythas, who gets his own little twink corner, most of the people Garak is attracted to throughout this are his height or taller and slender but athletic. I’m just saying that when he spotted Julian in the Replimat for the first time he really saw a young man with the face of an angel who is exactly his type fhdjskah maybe he should have seen this coming for himself. Too high on endorphins and hubris to think this would awaken anything in him irrevocably and now he’s stuck with the consequences.

Why? I asked myself. Why?! For the life of me I could not understand why it was important to her that I respond. Why should she—so beautiful, so alive—be disappointed if I didn’t return her … what? What did she want from me? Friendship? Why me?

I was in turmoil. Her grace and manner, the way she tilted her head and half smiled when she listened, as if everything amused her … it was like a forbidden dream of the unattainable. The attraction was painful because I instinctively knew that while my life would be simpler and more controllable without her, it would also be as drab as my Bamarren uniform.

. . .

“Are you making fun of me?” It was at that moment, when I asked the question, that I realized just how afraid I was of being the object of her ridicule. She stopped laughing and for the first time she was speechless.

Losing my entire fucking MIND about how Garak is basically taking Palandine’s place when he approaches Julian at first. Odo and Garak ‘I love you so much I want to become you because it’s the only way I can imagine really being close to you’ handshake meme

Sex stuff end. For now.

I was about to leave when Odo asked about the designs for his “new” sartorial look. I could see that he was masking his concern, so I assured him that the sketches were some of my finest creations, and would be ready within the week. He grunted his thanks and I stepped out onto the Promenade. Love does make fools of us all.

I’m clawing at my face with emotion. Odo… And Garak did finish those sketches even after his moment of existential ennui over them before.

- Please for the love of god stop putting Six out in the merciless sun T_____T how many times must a poor lil nerd boy pass out before he can rest in the sand etc.

- “It’s not every evening we find Barkan Lokar strolling with a murk through the Grounds.”

“Lokar? My father buried the Legate, Turat Lokar,” I said without thinking.

“Did your father kill him?” Palandine joked. But I didn’t laugh. The Lokars were a legendary family, and the old man’s funeral was the largest I had ever seen.

Why is this so funny. Garak you are so fucking weird. ‘Oh yeah I know that guy my dad did the flower arrangements for his funeral’

- A spirited dabo game involving several Klingons and a serious-looking dabo girl I hadn’t seen before caught my attention. If Quark had been present he’d be giving her one of his congeniality lectures. I truly sympathize with the young woman; if I had to spend all day with these drunken dolts….

Literally so hilarious that’s his first thought. First impulse: ‘surrounded by idiots’ solidarity. Garak what were you doing day drinking at the devil’s sacrament/quarks at midday girl…

- Rom soon appeared with a small container of kanar. He was wearing an outfit I had made for him.

“H-here you are, Garak. I hope you enjoy it.” Ever the gracious host.

“Thank you, Rom. And please, try not to let your collar lie there like a dead targ.” I adjusted the offending fabric, and Rom sweetly tolerated my fussing.

I’m fucking crying what the HELL. Surprise wholesome dynamic that keeps going through the whole narrative. Garak just uncomplicatedly likes and appreciates Rom, with no particular ulterior motive. Plus: fussing is also how we see Mila express affection, like mother like son.

- I realized as I took a sip of my drink that I was in a dangerous mood. Drinking in the middle of the day. The Doctor would be quite disappointed with me. When I’m unable to immerse myself in work my mind becomes occupied by an invading army of thoughts intent upon conquering all equilibrium and peace. Kanar is a valuable if unreliable weapon I employ against this army. The pills the Doctor gives me are a poor substitute.

Julian, severely unimpressed: uh-huh

‘Would Julian want me to do this to myself? No. However he’s too busy playing soldiers with O’Brien to tell me so, apparently, so that can’t stop me.’ You petty lil bitch garak (affectionate)

The fact that he’s doing the The Little Julian Who Lives In My Head thing already here, where the real Julian is actually around but not engaged with him. I’m so sad. He’s managed to discover shrimp colour spectrums of loneliness and pining.

- Ever since the Romulan business and Captain Sisko’s near breakdown (outside of the Doctor, whom I told shortly after the incident, no one knows about this, but one recognizes the symptoms), I’ve been obsessed with memories of Bamarren.

The fact that he tells Julian about that. Presumably partly in a practical way to make sure Sisko doesn’t fall to pieces completely but he doesn’t seem to have any shame about it or expect Bashir to react too badly over it either. The trust…

- I must admit that I was quite taken aback. Evidently there is honor among dolts.

I’m genuinely impressed by how enjoyable it is in this book to be party to Garak’s inner voice. It’s so fun in here, among all the horrors.

- Nine approached me as I sat alone in our quarters reading the first part of Cylon Pareg’s Eternal Stranger, a saga spanning several generations of a Cardassian family during the early and middle Union.

*whisper of agonized affection* between this and his happy place being studying wormhole theory… he’s such a little nerd.

Nine swallowed again, an even more bitter taste, and marched off to a life of diminishing returns.

LMAO burn. And, as we shall see, not necessarily inaccurate.

- As I walked away I heard the custodian ask Tarnal what it was I had done to deserve this punishment.

“Nobody told me. But I know he’s got a mouth on him,” Tarnal replied.

The more things change I guess fdhsakja. Known across the school for being a) a sneaky lil bastard and b) never ever shutting the fuck up when he really really should

- “And you have to use that wonderful smile of yours more often, Elim.”

“What’s that got to do with listening?” That was the subject, and Palandine had typically made a jump in logic I couldn’t follow. She also forgot that I was a Cardassian male and smiling was not one of our strong features.

“If they feel comfortable with you, people will tell you stories about themselves that will reveal their deepest secrets.”

“But what if the stories aren’t true?” I challenged. “I could smile till my cheeks hurt, and you could tell me any kind of story you wanted—and what would I know about you except what you invented?”

“You would know, if you were truly listening, the kind of story I use to define myself,” she asserted.

“But it’s not the truth!” I maintained.

“Why not? Because it’s not what you believe? Or it doesn’t fit a definition of the truth that someone taught you? Look at people, Elim.” Palandine gestured as if the enclosure were filled with people. “Observe them. The way they walk and talk, the way they hold themselves and eat their meals. That’s what they believe about themselves. Is it the ‘truth’? Are they really that way? I don’t know. Perhaps it is a lie. But what people lie about the most are themselves, and these lies become the stories they believe and want to tell you.”

“As long as I’m smiling,” I mumbled.

. . .

“Truth, as we’ve learned to define it, is not only overrated,” she went on with a controlled passion, “it’s designed to keep people in the dark.”

This last statement stopped me.

“You mean the way we’ve been taught?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“What about our government?”

“They tell us the stories that we need to know in order to be good citizens,” she replied carefully.

“They don’t tell us the truth, is what you’re saying,” I concluded.

“There you go again. They tell us their truth, Elim, and we are here to learn how to listen.”

. . .

“Let the ones without power scowl and make fierce faces.You smile. It’s an invitation to connect with another person. And once the invitation is accepted, relax and listen … you’ll come to know as much as you’ll ever need to about that person,” she said with a smile that I greedily accepted.

“You would know, if you were truly listening, the kind of story I use to define myself,” she asserted.

“But it’s not the truth!” I maintained.

“Why not?”

SO when I was saying he’s taking Palandine’s place in this dynamic with Julian early on I was not kidding and I was not wrong hahaha. And it’s also what this entire book is, in the end. Trusting Julian to ‘truly listen’ to the story under the stories is maybe the biggest show of trust and vulnerability Garak could ever extend to anyone. Extremely The Wire-core once more.

The idea that tiny Garak was too outwardly glum and serious is. Amazing and brainbreaking. People feeling uncomfortable under his gaze b/c he’ll just like scowl distrustfully at them. Palandine I don’t know if you fixed him or made him worse but you certainly did something fundamental to him and committed him to the bit and for that I cannot thank you enough

- I no longer had Palandine to myself—but surprisingly, I didn’t mind, in fact I was pleased that Charaban was here. His stillness, like everything else about him, had grace and strength. I sneaked another look in his direction and marveled that this was the same person I had first encountered in the storeroom. He returned my look, and in the next few moments a bond grew between us that I had never thought possible.

You know if Barkan was really smart or had the capacity for extended self-control he would have just kept stringing Garak along as the third in his disastrous marriage. Garak is used to subsisting on the merest scraps of affection and consideration, you’d barely even have to feed him. (Ala Daisuke Jigen with many an evil ex, for the Lupinheads out there lol) A threesome here and there and maybe gently stroking his hair afterwards and you’d have him for life, probably. Alas or perhaps thankfully Barkan is ultimately just an asshole and not that smart.

- A Bolian client came down the steps outside the door and was about to enter the shop, but for some reason he stopped at the threshold. He looked at us, turned, and went back the way he came.

LMAO that guy was like ‘something really fraught and homosexual is going on here and that is frankly none of my business, as you were gentlemen don’t mind me.’ A real ally and a bro.

“I’m keeping you from your business.” Bashir stood up. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

“I’m pleased you stopped by.” I was about to escort him to the door.

“No, you’re not,” he said quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“Garak, I come from a culture that has perfected the ‘stiff upper lip,’” he explained with the same faint smile.

“What does that mean?” It was a genuine question; there was a change in his attitude.

“It means that we never complain, never admit to our feelings, never ask for help. It’s just not done,” Bashir explained. “And those people who lack character’ and insist on airing their needs—especially in public—are subject to ridicule… and worse. Does this sound familiar?”

“Perhaps,” I replied softly.

“But I’m also a doctor, Garak. And I know which group of people suffers the most. I really won’t take up any more of your time.” He extended his hand, which he rarely did, and I took it. “Thank you for the tea.” He turned and went out the door.

I stood there for a long moment, deeply upset. I felt trapped within myself, knowing what I had to do to get out but unable even to begin. Yes, Doctor, it does sound familiar. But as to the question of which group suffers the most…

. . .

After Charaban’s betrayal I became as withdrawn and solitary as I had been when I first came to the Institute. I tried to spend time with Palandine, but it never quite worked out; between her regular duties and the recruitment and planning for the female Competition, she had little time for anything else. But there was something else, a distance that had crept between us that I didn’t understand. I felt ashamed, that somehow I had failed and it was my fault, but I found it difficult to discuss. This was probably the loneliest I had ever been.

1) Going NUTS over the fact that these are separated by ONE paragraph. Andy Robinson staring directly into the camera making parallels between the main love interests in this book like ‘Am I making myself clear here. Do you get it yet’. Also really interesting to make this relationship pattern a, well, pattern in Garak’s life, and not a unique element of his and Bashir’s thing (which Doylistically was basically a byproduct of cowardly 90s standards for tv writing more than anything else lol)

2) But there was something else, a distance that had crept between us that I didn’t understand. I felt ashamed, that somehow I had failed and it was my fault, but I found it difficult to discuss. This was probably the loneliest I had ever been.

The Palandine/Bashir parallel train barrels on, scoring a deep trail of heartache into my soul. Also in that case it’s so sad because he really hasn’t done anything wrong or anything to be ashamed of, Barkan and Palandine are the ones who fucked him over :’(

3) I stood there for a long moment, deeply upset. I felt trapped within myself, knowing what I had to do to get out but unable even to begin. + Tolan’s grief at seeing Garak after Bamorren: “He’s hard, Mila,” Father said. . . . “But to the point where he’s unreachable?” Father asked. “Where nothing penetrates? How can he express even his basic needs if he’s trapped inside a shell?” + Just as I had learned to do when Uncle Enabran locked me in that suffocating closet. Was this the universal torture for failure, I wondered?...........................................................................

4) More proof to my eyes that Julian’s side of this whole thing seems to be more about thinking Garak doesn’t actually want him to be there. He doesn’t think he’s welcome here or that he’ll be able to help more than he hurts with whatever’s going on for him. ‘I really won’t take up any more of your time’ AUGH

Garak buddy… every time he tries to get closer to you or extend some care, you bristle like a hedgehog even though you’re trying to do it in as polite and decent a way as possible — what is the poor guy supposed to think beyond a certain point lmao. (Though on the hopeful/beautiful side… what is this entire book but Garak actually taking the advice/suggestion Bashir gives in this scene to reexperience his past and put it in context — not in the holosuites, but in his own way by writing it all out in a way that makes sense to his Cardassian brain and then sharing that with Julian directly. Like. The last line of the book is ‘You’re always welcome, Doctor’. Elim ‘I will become emotionally healthy enough to ask Julian to come visit with an open heart if it fucking kills me’ Garak)

I’m so soft for how careful they both are with each other in this scene, though. Even in this difficult place where there’s stuff they don’t understand about each other and they are having difficulty connecting for… several reasons, they are trying so so hard to be good to each other. Which is why I think they have every chance of working out brilliantly long-term; once you’ve got a mutual respect, willingness to keep working to understand and communicate with each other even when it’s difficult, and that fundamental ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ good faith in a relationship you’re a good chunk of the way there, from what I have observed.

Julian cares that Garak was upset, much more than he cares about being right, and this time he shows it in a more private setting where Garak can take it in. They’re trying!

5) The implication in But as to the question of which group suffers the most… that Garak also realizes how much he’s hurting Julian by not being able to let him in…

Most of all the fact that Bashir in this scene is like ‘Listen Garak I get emotional repression. I’m literally British.’ is one of the funniest things that happen in the whole book. To me. (I’m Norwegian, culturally this has. Some overlap with my experience, let’s say lol)

- Six had long since gone home. He wanted to succeed so badly, but his body couldn’t withstand the constant assault of the training. I’m sure he found an academic situation.

Oh thank GOD. Genuinely so relieved to hear this. This is how many times a nerd boy must pass out before he rests in the sand and gets to go to normal university instead of murderschool, the question is finally answered.

- Tain has shown up again and I want to throw rocks at him until he goes away. And I know he won’t.

- My shed has become somewhat more bearable, but the clutter and confinement of the interior space requires that I leave the door open. To keep myself busy when I’m not working with the med unit, Doctor, I am engaged in a project I must tell you about. It baffles me. Perhaps you can tell me if I’m losing my mind altogether.

. . .

[Parmak] turned to me with the strangest expression on his face—and looked me directly in the eyes for the first time.

AUGH. (Plus, the fact that Parmak consistently calls him ‘Elim’.)

But what baffles me, Doctor, is that I attach no meaning to what I’m doing here. I’m just doing it because I need to. And to be truthful, I don’t see this as a memorial at all. On the contrary—if I could, I’d singlehandedly rebuild this city myself, piece by piece. I stood here watching Parmak’s blood dry on this pile of rubble, engulfed by a feeling of loss and utter mystification as to what these piles mean.

Just assure me that I’m not going mad, Doctor.

This whole section is the biggest mood and I’ve rarely felt closer to a fictional character haha. His quietly dissociated tired bemusement both with himself and what he’s doing and Parmak’s reaction is… yeah that’s exactly what that feels like. And ‘Just assure me that I’m not going mad, Doctor’ has done irreparable damage to my psyche, I’m going to be thinking about this forever

- Palandine gestured that she would deal with me and sent the mate on her way.

“So what did you use me for?” I asked.

“What do we ever use each other for?” she replied without hesitation.

“Answering a question with a question is an old trick, Palandine.”

“No trick. I needed a friend.”

“And you don’t need a friend now” I hated the tone that was creeping into my voice.

“It’s complicated, Elim.”

I was afraid to ask why.

“What did you use me for?” she asked.

The question truly baffled me. I only wanted her love. Was that using her? I would gladly have given mine in return.

Still gnawing on concrete over Garak partially reenacting Palandine’s way of approaching him with Bashir in the beginning. At that point he also needed a friend (and he needed someone to run to Sisko like ‘THE SPY TALKED TO ME :D’ to deliver intel through so he was also using him lol.) The way Garak picks up traits from the people he loves like he’s doing the soul version of Odo’s shapeshifting-as-closeness thing because it’s the only way he knows.

- “So it’s Eight,” he said, dismissing me from his world.

“I don’t think you understand, Barkan….” Palandine began to say.

“It’s not necessary that he understand,” I dismissed him from my world.

Barkan… you did not understand what you were doing, getting into an emotionally and sexually charged petty-off with this man. RIP your stupid ass I guess lmao

“I wanted to tell you. But when I realized … I didn’t want to hurt you,” she said with a gentleness that rankled me.

“I’m not hurt. Neither one of you can hurt me. I wish you a successful… partnership.”

Palandine is so interesting!!!! And like here’s one of the things that I think make a big difference in Garak’s relationship with Palandine vs. his relationship with Julian — who tells him exactly the same thing in ‘The Wire’, after all! (I don’t want to hurt you) Because Palandine doesn’t really mean it, does she? She doesn’t mean ‘I don’t want you to be hurting, I want to protect you from being harmed’, she means ‘I didn’t want to be the thing that hurt you; I didn’t want to be faced with your hurt’, while she is doing things that will inevitably hurt him. I think there is genuine affection and care on her side, but they’re in such a fucked up, brutal world and they’re so young.

‘I’m not hurt. Who’s hurt’ says teen crying quiet tears of blood as his world falls to pieces

“I love him, Elim. And I’m also ambitious. I want what he wants. You’ll understand this when you find someone to share your….”

Not me wondering how much of this has echoes to Mila’s relationship to Tain and how that’s part of what Garak reacts to — that survival mechanism of ‘I want what he wants’, subsuming and submitting yourself completely. Which of course is what a Cardassian is supposed to do to the state, and that Garak also does with Tain for the vast majority of both of their lives. The worst part is that Palandine really had some reason to hope for more — she and Barkan start out in a more equal position than it’s implied Mila and Tain ever did, that’s always framed as an inter-class thing, and while Palandine’s family situation is not as grand as Barkan’s it doesn’t seem like it crosses the service class/ruling class barrier. But the structure of the state imposed on every level of society right down to the most intimate and personal areas of life is going to crush the life out of that hope real fast. I’m sorry girl. Wanting to have a fighting chance in this world isn’t the worst sin anyone’s committed and tbf you are like a teen by all accounts

- “My name is Elim Garak. I don’t know where I’m being sent, but I hope you’ll remember me as your friend.”

“When I was told today that I was One Lubak, I was honored… and afraid that I’d lose you as a friend. Thank you. My name is Pythas Lok.”

Neither one of us ever took our eyes off Mila, who was still trying to blend into his surroundings.

Crying gently into my cereal

Garak ‘I wasn’t sure I could ever call him a friend’ vs. Pythas ‘Afraid that I’d lose you as a friend’

Something powerful was stirring deep inside me, and I began to shake. Mila snapped his head to the side, the way he does when he senses light or heat change. Convulsive waves pushed up from my center and tears filled my eyes, blinding me. I had absolutely no control over what was happening to me. By the time the convulsions subsided and my eyes cleared, Mila had disappeared into the rock-and-sand home he came from.

Absolutely sobbing my eyes out into my cereal

Spoiler warning: Garak having to go somewhere to be alone after something calamitous happens in his life because that’s the only way he can cry is a theme that will reemerge later and do unspeakable emotional damage to me personally haha

As I hiked back to the Institute, I had the thought that maybe somebody was doing the same thing for me and bringing me back home.

No baby you see someone is doing the exact opposite of this to you right now because you have a basic goodness and capacity for real honest love that Tain doesn’t and he’ll never in a million years set you free just because he loves you and it’s the right thing for you

- And Jadzia is gone. The station is a sadder and grayer place without her. I’m surprised at how keenly I feel her absence. Even though I know that her symbiont has been “joined” with another person … well, it’s not the same, is it? Indeed, knowing that Jadzia’s personality is somehow contained along with several others within this other person, I wonder how I would react if we were ever to meet.

The doctor has reminded me that these are personal choices, and it’s not for us to judge how one chooses to mourn. Quite so. Who can even begin to understand another’s grief? “Do you judge people by the clothes they ask you to make?” the doctor asked once. I bit back my response, but the point was well taken.

:’) little soul-healing brush of Julian kindness time

- “What does Tir Remara want with you?” Colonel Kira demanded, ignoring my offer of tea. Immediately an entire picture formed in my head of the scenario her abrupt question suggested: Tir Remara—a spy, perhaps even a changeling, preying upon a lonely Cardassian who was working for the Federation and engaged in top-secret work.

“She wants to have my children,” I replied with a serious look.

“You can’t be serious,” she managed.

“I’m not. Now do you want this tea or not?”

Kira should just have strangled you all those times she wanted to you snarky asshole fhdskja

#a stitch in time #asit #garashir #star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #elim garak #The great ASIT first read adventure #<- making that the tag for the rest of the posts!#ds9 meta #well nominally I do SOME analysis between all the keysmashing and nonsense haha #forgive me if I've gotten something wrong in this I've been uh. overexcited! I'm sure I'll be able to think clearly again soon (lying)#julian bashir #I'm not going to tag every char I talk about in this because I do love myself a bit but the good doctor hangs over everything in this book #so he gets his own tag #maybe I'll come back and get them all for book keeping purposes eventually but nOT tonight

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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aprincessofthevoid · 1 month

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But What Happens To You? Natan Fluff

Legit wrote this almost a decade ago and decided to clean it up just a lil to repost because I got locked out the old account it was on lmao.

Characters are from Satan and Me by @thisiskindagross and honestly I'm cackling at the fact my obsessed ass basically got their characters pretty dead on for how the story has since progressed.

Don't ask me to read over this fic again tho even if there are mistakes. it's honestly cringe as fuck and disgustingly adorable like i felt like I was intruding LMAO.

Also made me realize I'm gayer than I thought cus the times I use to write wayyyy more slash fiction I NEVER went into this much detail describing the men involved but there are PARAGRAPHS just describing how cute Natalie is here... anyway. Fluffy, cuddly makeout sesh while Satan and Natalie wait for the end of the world to come.

Word Count: 6502

Rating: T? (Some swearing, lil depressy Satan thoughts?)

Fluff n Kisses, Hurt Comfort? Idk man typical grumpy sunshine bullshit n they smooch xx

Nutshell: Natalie comes home acting stranger than usual, and when Satan pushes her to just spit it the fuck out already, things don't quite go as he expected, so he attempts to comfort her but he’s REALLY bad at it...

Natalie shoved open the front door with a harsh slam as it connected with the wall, tossing her school bag down at her feet. Satan could hear her frustrated huffing as she struggled to pull off her knee height brown boots, and her sigh of relief when she finally freed herself. Natalie headed further into the living room and draped her jacket over the back of the navy blue armchair opposite to the love seat that ‘Stanley’ was currently sprawled out on.

Satan spared a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, before turning his attention back to the television to the generic soap opera that had been playing in a marathon for the majority of the day. He hated to admit he was almost invested, waiting to see if the main protagonist's secret and of course evil twin, was going to walk in on their fathers brother that was having an affair with their mother. The mother who had kept her locked up all her life, hidden away from the rest of the family, or if the two lovers would manage to part just before the girl barged in with the revolver she had hidden under her dress, slipped into the band of her thigh high stockings.

Eventually, she moved towards the couch, plopping down on the floor in front of it without a word. For the better part of the next two episodes she stayed silent, but it wasn't until the third was almost finished that he really began to take notice of how strange she was acting. Her silence was unsettling, and the way she had begun to nervously rake her fingers through the ends of her hair, was sending small twinges of pain in his own head. All the signs that she had something big on her mind, and that meant he had to care now too, because there was no escape from her aggravating twitching. If the issue wasn’t addressed it wouldn’t be long before the girl's head exploded from thinking too much.

“Girl just spit it the fuck out already, before you make both of us fucking bald” He spat, letting out an agitated huff. He snapped his head in her direction, already annoyed by the anticipation of whatever bullshit explanation was going to come out of her mouth. He noticed his sudden break in the silence had made her jump and she quickly dropped her hands to her lap, balling them into tight fists atop her knees. She spared a nervous glance towards him before snapping her head back down, staring into her lap as she spoke

“Oh, um, no, ha ha, nothing wrong! Just, ya know, schools a draaaggg, heh…” She punctuated her words with a dismissive wave of a hand, before returning it to her lap. He waited still, not convinced there wasn't more to this. But his hard gaze to the side of her head was not enough to intimidate the truth out of her, she sat in silence, wringing her fingers so hard he could feel the pressure in his own hands. Finally, with a loud groan he flipped upright fully, roughly grabbing her wrists to make her stop.

“Can you fucking stop already?!” He shouted, causing Natalie’s head to jerk up to look at him with a start, the fear and panic in her expression stunned him momentarily causing his face scrunched up in frustration. What in the hell was her problem? He was sure they were well past her thinking he was going to cause her physical harm, so why was she so damn jumpy? Natalie tried but failed to force a smile that came out of a grimace, as she weakly attempted to pull her wrist out of his grasp. In reality any attempts to get away were pointless if he wanted to keep her somewhere even in his smaller form as Stanly, and she knew it too so why the hell was she still trying to wiggle out of his grasp?

After a few more attempts at getting him to release her she gave up with a defeated sigh, her hand hanging limply between them, the silence felt suffocating. Satan really didn’t understand her, not in the least, one minute she was all happy go lucky smiling in the face of death while running straight into the impending doom cloud of the apocalypse. Probably riding a fucking rainbow unicorn with cotton candy sunshine powers, and now she was sat in front of him, acting like any NORMAL human should at the dawn of the end of the world… Which ironically was very much out of the ordinary for her.

“Seriously kid, you aren’t yourself right now, so what’s your problem?” Natalie took in a shaky breath, and Satan could feel her chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to find the proper words before she spoke.

“I just, I’m worried, is all… about… all this junk that’s going on, with Michael… all these crazy monsters that want me dead and to steal your powers… what dad is gonna think when he finds out the truth…” Her voice lowered in volume as she spoke, and he had to lean in slightly to make out the words. But he understood her worry for her father, the poor old man already thought he was losing it, especially after seeing a glimpse of his long dead wife, during the possible deal with Michael over Natalie’s soul. It was just a matter of time before the guy finally put it together and figured out he was the Devil who now owned his daughter's soul.

He figured Natalie had known from the start that things wouldn’t be easy to keep their contract a secret for long, and although he was still confused as to why she chose now to begin collapsing under the pressure, he gave her credit for lasting as long as she did.

“Really kid, that's your problem? You didn’t honestly think you could hide the apocalypse of all things, from your father forever, did you?” He couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped him, it was honestly hilarious to think the girl planned on hiding the end of the world from her old man, he may be a little dense at times but he wasn't a complete idiot. Satan was genuinely curious how she planned on pulling this off, because no amount of sweet talk and lies could cover up this mess, regardless of their contract, the apocalypse was coming; for everyone, ‘for her’.

His last thought was a sobering one, and his amused grin faltered slightly at the reminder, especially now that he knew Natalie, actually knew her, and had realized how strong she was both when they met and even now, ‘but not strong enough…’. Natalie had stayed silent, and he tilted his head to catch a glimpse of her face but she turned away ever so slightly, staring blankly across the room to avoid his gaze. Her breathing was shakey and he could now see that her entire body was almost vibrating in an attempt to keep herself together.

“Natalie?” His voice had come out quieter than he intended, Satan never said her name, it was a conscious choice to not use it In the beginning, he had mainly done it simply because it had annoyed her, just so she would feel the need to remind him that she had a name. For once there was no thought behind it, his genuine concern had seeped out in a barely audible whisper, and he could feel her unease after he spoke, a twisting of something awful in his stomach that made him want to be sick. His throat tightened and a heavy pressure built up in his head… and that was the moment he heard it, a small, muffled sound, the tiny sob that came along with the next words she spoke.

“…I’m worried about what will happen to you… if Michael wins… if the demons get locked away in hell… where do you go when you die?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and the silence after was suffocating. It filled the room around them both, but he didn't have an answer for her. Everything was becoming too much, he was both too warm and too cold, disconnected, empty, smothered by the words and the implication of them bouncing around in his head… She was just too soft, too sweet, too close.

He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t stand the thought of someone caring so much about him because it was always a lie ‘she’s safe’, he corrupted anything he touched with his filth ‘you can’t taint her’. There was no way this small human girl could honestly care, or should care rather, about what happens to the literal devil after the apocalypse ’but she does care let her be there for you’, this time he physically shook his head to get rid of the thoughts dropping her wrist like it burned him. From past experience he knew not to be so trusting and before he truly had the chance to think about his words, they came out far harsher than intended.

"Where the fuck did that come from? And why do you even care? It’s not like it’s going to matter anyway because you’re too stubborn to break this contract. You’re going to die right along with me so there's no reason to be worrying about my ass when were both fucking screwed” The bark of laughter that followed his words was loud and bitter, he got up and angrily stomped towards the hall and heading upstairs by himself to calm down. Seeing her cry over his inescapable fate just made him feel more guilty, and that pissed him off, why the fuck did he feel guilty? But the only quiet escape he has was her room, because there was no way she would let him leave the house alone and he needed to get the fuck away from her before he resorted to smashing whatever he could grab to blow off steam. That of course would probably just end in another trip to church as punishment… And honestly, with how he felt right now, he probably deserved the pain and discomfort that would bring him.

As he rounded the corner he paused, just out of her sight, as her muffled sniffling had now turned to open sobs in the quiet house. He felt stuck, staring intently at the worn out red rug under him as he flexed his toes and felt the fibres shift under his feet, attempting to swallow around the newly forming lump in his throat with little success. He mentally kicked himself for yelling at her, especially at a time like this. Although he enjoyed other people’s pain and despair he didn’t enjoy hers, and seriously that really pissed him off. Gripping the door frame with a clawed hand, he dug deep gouges into the soft wood, and with a low snarl he turned around and stomped back out into the Living Room.

Natalie had looked up just as Satan stopped in front of her. Seeing her red and puffy eyes with likes of makeup tear tracks streaking down her flushed face made him feel nauseous. She began to open her mouth again, likely to question what he wanted and why he was back, but before she could say anything that might make him second guess things, Satan grabbed onto her arm and pulled her up. He dragged her towards the stairs, and in her current distraught state she weakly protested, sniffing in an attempt to stop more tears from falling as she weakly tried to pull her arm from his grasp, despite him barely holding on she stood no chance of escaping.

He dragged her all the way up the stairs, down the hallway and pushed her into her room, only letting go long enough to slam the door behind him, which caused all random papers and photos the girl had stuck to her door to fly off, scattering all over the floor. Satan shifted into what Natalie had referred to as his ‘drug dealer’ form, turning around to face her once again. She stood there with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her typical annoyingly extroverted, bubbly self, had been replaced with something he had only momentarily seen a few times before.

The times when she had brought him to visit her mother’s grave were the main ones, or the small handful of times some of his insults had gotten under her skin. The time Michael had brought her mothers soul to her in an attempt to forcefully break her contract with him was another one Satan could never forgive him for. It was that small flinch, the momentary silence before she would laugh and brush him off, the momentary anger she felt only seemed to make her feel guilty, and he would get this odd look in her eyes. It just wasn’t her… He shook away his thoughts, needing to focus on his current fuck up that was in need of fixing.

“Sit down” He gestured to the bed as he spoke, attempting to keep his voice as monotone as he could, it was a simple request she would hopefully be able to follow, even in her current state. She barely lifted her head, only glancing up at him through her lashes before quickly looking away. Satan could see her face was less red but her cheeks still looked damp, his hands twitched reflexively at the sight, and he had to resist the urge to wipe them away, a dull itch spreading across his palms. His whole body tensed, hands balled into tight fists at his sides to keep himself from doing something embarrassing.

Satan glanced around her room, at all the pictures, art and collectables she had lined along the walls and piled onto her bookshelf. Looking for some sort of distraction, anything that would help to shove the thoughts back down into wherever the fuck they came from with little luck. Natalie also didn't move immediately, but just as Satan thought he might lose his last bit of restraint, she slowly turned to walk towards the bed, gingerly sitting herself down on the very edge. She finally looked directly at him for the first time since she arrived home, waiting for further directions.

He inhaled sharply, blowing the air back out through his nose as he moved towards her, stopping near the top of her bed. Leaning over he pulled down the pile of old blankets until there was enough room for her to climb into, before standing up once again, choosing to stare across the room again rather than look at her. He settled on her dresser mirror, which was surrounded by pictures and postcards both new and old, following along the line of photos, his eyes on a picture of the two of them, wedged into the upper corner. It was one that she had made him take on her birthday, a rare occurrence where he wasn’t sporting his signature frown, which appeared in almost all the other pictures she had of him.

It was almost surreal to see his own face looking so normal and happy… he quickly looked away again, choosing instead to stare at the floor, yet another failed attempt to clear his mind of the thoughts that had been bombarding him recently. Thankfully the kid understood the silent request a little quicker this time, and she carefully climbed over the mound of blankets and pulled the layers up over her legs. Once she had gotten settled fully he sat himself down on the edge of the bed with his back to her, neither of them saying a word for a long moment. It wasn’t until he heard her quiet sniffing resume, as if she was going to cry again.

At that his head whipped around to face her, once again Natalie avoided looking at him, with her head bent down and chin pressed against her chest. Satan didn’t know why the sight bothered him so much, it shouldn’t be getting to him at all he had seen plenty of humans cry. The literal devil shouldn’t care this much especially not about a human girl being upset ‘but you do care’. That stupid fucking voice in the back of his head was whispering to him again, it wasn’t the same as those voices, not even close, those would scream and bombard him with a constant flow of disgustingly twisted words, words he use to think was the honest truth. Which was sometimes more painful than the things the souls trapped in eternal damnation use to say about him.

No, this calm little voice seemed to speak up at all the wrong times for a completely different reason, an ever optimistic back seat driver, this girl must really be working her way under his skin and he hated it! ‘That’s a lie’. Cursing under his breath, once again being called out by his own budding conscience, he tilted his head down, to get a better look at her face and she glanced up ever so slightly, a quiet humourless laugh escaping her lips.

“Yeah I know I’m a baby” She muttered, toying with the fraying edge of her quilt.

“I didn’t say anything.'' He really hadn’t, although he didn't really think about how out of character his actions would look to her. Satan shouldn't be surprise she thought he was basically just torturing himself by pretending to give a fuck about her emotional well being, because in the beginning that's what he did. But the longer he was forced to interact with her due to their contract, the urge to constantly insult her had dwindled and he had actually grown quite fond of her. He was finding it increasingly more difficult to deny the things that quiet, happy little voice kept saying to him.

“You don’t have to say it…” She spoke in a muffled whisper as she sniffed again and rubbed a hand across her face in frustration as the tears that continued to fall down her face. With how pathetic her voice had sounded, Satan honestly had to fight back a snort, she really did know him so well, that even when he was making the conscious effort to not be a prick she knew what his initial reaction would be (and to be fair she was being a bit of a baby but he wasn’t gonna tell her that… not yet anyway).

Shuffling further up the bed, he turned himself until he was seated next to her, leaning against the headboard, which caused her to eye him wearily. But he couldn't or rather, wouldn't look directly at her, if he did he probably wouldn't be able to go through with this, and the struggle to resist not running away and hiding was already quite the fight. Pulling up one of her pillows he propped it upright against the wall next to his torso, the only other movement he made was to stretch his arm out, still not looking directly at her.

Satan could barely see her reaction out of the corner of his eye, she had stopped crying at least but now appeared utterly confused, her nose scrunched up, mouth downturned in a small pout. Swallowing thickly, he once again appeared to be very interested in something on the other side of the room, there was no way he could let himself back out now or she would never let him live it down. Natalie pushed herself back against the oversized pillow ever so slowly, until her back finally came in contact with his arm. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her hair was, the sweet fruit and floral smell of her shampoo and perfume made his head feel fuzzy.

Satan was pressed tightly into the wall behind him and he could feel his shoulder blades grinding against it as he shifted, finding it difficult to relax enough to find a comfortable position without disturbing Natalie. When he noticed her wearily mirroring his anxious posture next to him he shuffled slightly down the bed so he was slouching into the pillows behind him more comfortably, forcibly lowering shoulders so arm laid more naturally against the back of the pillow despite still feeling so tense, his hand loosely hung down over her shoulder gently grazing her arm.

She continued to wiggle and shift around awkwardly, seemingly trying to avoid touching anything except the arm he had draped behind her. Eventually he had enough of her endless squirming and with an annoyed scoff he gripped her shoulder and pulled her into his side. She let out a shrill startled squeak as she was suddenly pulled into his side, he could feel her turn her head to look up at him, her hair tickling his arm where it was wrapped tightly around her. Satan felt his face grow hot as he avoided her gaze. It took everything in him to resist turning towards her, to continue ignoring how soft she felt pressed against him, her breath against his neck while she stared up at him patiently. He couldn't think about how trusting she was, or the calming smell of her perfume.NO he had to fight against those thoughts… for the sake of his own sanity.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the kid to realise she probably wasn’t getting any explanation and rather than trying to make him talk like she normally would, she shuffled slightly, adjusting herself until she was more comfortably pressed against his side, pulling her knees up to rest against his legs. Natalie laid her head down on his chest, lifting the arm that wasn’t trapped between them and hesitantly resting it against his ribs, tucked under her chin. Satan had to consciously remind himself to take slow steadying breaths to calm himself. As much as the girl got on his nerves at times, she had been through quite a bit since they’d met. He hadn’t really been helping lessen her stress levels, so despite his usual no touching rule he owed this to her.

Using his free hand, he carefully pulled the quilt up over them until it reached her neck, draping it over her shoulders and his arm that was wrapped around her. Satan had not been paying attention to how long it had been, but they stayed there long enough he began to notice the light from her bedroom window fading. By now she had seemingly calmed down the tension having left her shoulders, he finally took the chance to glance down at her to find she was fast asleep. Snoring lightly, Satan noticed a few pieces of her hair had slipped down over her face, and he paused for a moment before lifting his hand to gently brush them behind her ear, fingers lingering on the skin of her cheek for a short moment. He gently brushed his thumb over her tear stained face, before pulling back and resting his arm across his stomach.

“You’re something else kid…” She really was the biggest mystery to him, because who in their right mind would feel content to fall asleep curled up next to the literal personification of hell itself?. Right from the beginning her initial fear of meeting him had faded rather quickly, and she fell into the role of his contractor. In the beginning Satan felt she took her job just a little too seriously, but the longer he was with her the more he saw she was a great help for himself. If only because she gave him no other options, she saw right through him and all his bullshit, honestly she was the only person that even bothered to find out more about him, to truly know him as something other than the king of hell.

As much as he hated to admit it, her scrutiny was both comforting and horrifying. The more she pushed his buttons or she forced herself into his personal space out of genuine concern, the more she broke down the barricades that he had built up over the centuries… The less he minded what she saw, which had shocked him to his core initially to realize that maybe he wanted her to see more of him. Darkness, hatred, and self loathing was all he saw when forced to look within, but somehow Natalie had found good, somehow she saw a light in him that he couldn't yet, and she was determined to make him see it too someday. He honestly began to wonder if the light she saw was her own, if she had given him a small piece of herself, buried it in his chest to scare away the shadows, sacrificing some of her happiness to help his stubborn ass heal. With a weary sigh, he couldn’t help but voice his thoughts out loud.

“You may be a major pain in my ass Natalie, but ya know, I’m glad it was you I got stuck with” It was thee truth, he couldn’t help it. This girl made him feel things he thought he had long since forgotten, was a natural thing with her, and there was no way around it.

“Not that I haven’t considered smothering you in your sleep, because I have, but I never did… I couldn’t bring myself to actually hurt you… Even hurting your feelings makes me feel bad sometimes. How’d that happen?” He trailed off, not really sure how to explain what she had done to him. Glancing down he watched her face as she slept, she looked so calm, all the stress from the looming apocalypse had disappeared from her features. Her cheek was pressed against his chest pushing her lips out into a little pout, Satan found himself focusing on her lips just a little too long, before quickly turning his eyes away, kicking himself for being a creep while she slept next to him.

He instead focused on the hand she had resting on his chest. She really was tiny compared to him, her hands were small and delicate, but he also knew she could throw a good punch when she needed too. She was strong for a human, not so much in the physical sense, but her will, and it was something he admired about her; even if her sassy nature pissed him off every so often, it pissed Michael off more. He couldn’t help the small smirk that came to his face at the thought, Michael was extremely annoyed with the fact that from the beginning, Natalie preferred Satan, and anybody else for that matter, over him.

“I know I’m an asshole, it’s in my nature, but I hope you know I don’t really hate you, not completely anyway. But you are kind of a bitch at times, and being tied to a teenager still isn’t at the top of my list of favourite things… but you’re not, completely horrible”

He felt Natalie shift slightly, and tensed at the movement, and before he could really react, Natalie sat up and faced him. He was frozen in place, as they watched each other, and then the kid did something that really threw him off. Using the hand between them as leverage, she leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away and laying her head back on his chest, pressing against his side more firmly.

“I love you too ya big marshmallow” He coughed and sputtered for a moment before falling silent, his entire body felt heavy, and the tightness in his chest made it hard to breath. Looking down at her again, all he could see was the top of her head. He couldn’t help how his voice shook as he attempted to speak

“Natalie?” She lifted her head up towards him, a faint look of confusion on her face, her hair flopped over in her face once again. And that was it. As much as he would tease her about it, she really was quite pretty. Not in the supermodel sense, she was no Cleopatra that’s for sure. But her soul, she was so bright, even from his view; and he couldn’t help but wish he could see what Raphael could. But he wouldn’t ever have a true complaint about the parts he could see… with that, he couldn’t take it any longer

“I…” His words wouldn’t come out, and as Natalie looked more and more worried, there was only one way he could tell her what he was trying to say; he hesitantly lifted the hand that had been resting on his stomach to move her hair out of her face, brushing his knuckles against her cheek, before gently lifting her chin up towards him. Quickly leaned down he pressed his lips to hers, no thought or plan to it, his resolve had finally caved and he was acting on pure impulse by this point.

Her reaction was to be expected as she went completely still sucking in a sharp breath at the contact, though to his surprise she didn’t pull away immediately. He manoeuvred his hand to rest at the nape of her neck, gently supporting her head as he softly pressed into her more firmly. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, afraid to face the rejection that was inevitably coming once he retreated, only staying in place a few moments longer, savouring the soft warmth of her lips, the taste of her peach flavoured gloss, of what would likely be their first, and last kiss. Pulling away ever so slightly, he rested his forehead against hers, feeling her light panting breath flutter against his lips which sent a shiver down his spine and he inhaled shakily.

Neither one dared move, the silence once again felt smothering, Natalies soft breathing was almost drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his head and he wished for an easy escape, to run away like he always had before. But there was no escaping this time, what he had done wasn’t something that could be easily forgiven and would be even harder to forget. He waited for her anger, for her to slap him and demand an explanation, for her to send him to spend the night on the roof outside, all of which he would deserve. He wasn’t expecting the light touch of Natalie’s free hand lightly cupping the side of his face, or the gentle stroking of her thumb across his cheekbone. He didn't expect her shuddering breath against his lips or the small trembling in her hand that spread through her body, it was hard to focus on anything else with just how god damn warm she was pressed against him. But the one thing he really wasn’t expecting, was the tentative brush of her lips on his own.

He froze, body tensing at the contact as his thoughts began to race, scrambling to process the fact she had kissed him back, ‘she is kissing you back’. Satan felt the soft quirk of her smile against his lips and it was just enough to snap him out of his daze. His arm around her shoulder had moved to her waist pulling her further up his torso and holding her tightly. The hand at the nape of her neck tightened as he returned her shy kiss a little more firmly, barely pulling away with a short gasp before pressing back into her with more urgency.

The hand that was softly stroking his face had since moved to the back of his neck, as she raked her fingers through his hair. Satan couldn’t help the shiver accompanied by a low growl let out against the girl’s lips as her nails scraped against his skin, and this reaction seemed to give her a little more confidence. She pried her other arm from between them, wrapping it around his neck gripping onto his opposite shoulder for support. He could feel her heartbeat racing where she was pressed against his chest, hard and fast, her breath a heavy panting into his mouth each time their lips parted ever so slightly; and he was no better. He was losing his composure, he could feel as his teeth began to sharpen of their own accord, as his horns just barely sprouted out his forehead, taking every ounce of willpower to not lose control.

He finally managed to tear himself away from her lips with a deep groan, opening his eyes to look at the girl that both ripped him apart and held him together. Natalies was studying his face carefully, the green of her eyes was almost completely swallowed up by her pupils. Neither one dared move for father knows how long, until Satan finally took the initiative, sitting up he loosened his grip on her slightly leaning into her, and Natalie followed his lead, allowing him to lay her down across the head of the bed. Hovered over her, propped up on his elbows either side of her face, he couldn't help but to admire her below him. The soft red of her hair framed her flushed face perfectly, her big doe eyes staring up at him so eager and trusting, made his whole body feel hot.

Her mouth parted slightly, her chest heaving with every panting breath she took, and her lips were still red and swollen from his relentless assault. He was enjoying his perfect view, taking in her flustered state, what he had done to her. But apparently he was taking just a little too long for Natalie's liking, as she snapped him away from his thoughts when she gripped the collar of his dress shirt pulling him down to meet her lips once again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He really didn’t deserve her, in no way, shape or form, she was so fragile compared to him, as most humans were. Her soft tender frame and calm demeanour, her open affection, her mortality… A stark contrast to his tall ridgid muscle, fabricated to make him more intimidating, full of anger and hatred for these humans who cursed him to eternal damnation. He didn't deserve her and she certainly didn’t deserve him, she didn't deserve his anger, the danger of the apocalypse, none of it. Everything about them screamed that the two didn’t fit together, but right now, by some crazy miracle they seemed to slot together perfectly.

She must have sensed his wandering thoughts, as he felt a gentle scrape of her teeth against his bottom lip. He instinctually returned the gesture by biting down on her own lip with more pressure, digging his fangs into the soft flesh, greedily swallowing up her surprised squeak as he held back the urge to dig his claws into her bed spread. Everything still felt too warm, but he couldn’t bare the thought of being separated from her even for a moment. Cradling her head in his hands, he pried himself away from her lips to pepper kisses all over her face as she; the corners of her mouth and along her cheeks, her forehead down her nose. Before slowly and softly, pressing small, deliberate kisses down the side of her face, until he met with her jawline, panting heavily against her neck, waiting. Watching her face for a sign, anything to tell him this was alright, as much as he was desperate to touch the rest of her, the last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured. He wouldn’t dare do any more than what she would allow him.

She squirmed under his weight, anticipating his next move, but when he didn’t advance she finally opened her eyes to look back at him. The sun having long set Satan couldn't be sure how long they had been there, hell even if the sun came up he’s not sure he would have even noticed right now. Eventually Natalie was the one to break the silence, her voice came out with a slight tremble.

“So um… What now? Y-you know a lot more… about this stuff than I do…” She chewed the skin on the inside of her cheek as she spoke, and he could feel the sensation in his own. Despite the electric feel in the air and the position he had her in, it wasn’t as much a sensual thing as it was an adorable one. The grin that spread across his face as he dropped his head down letting out a deep rough laugh against her neck, seemed to confuse her for a second, but he could see the small twitch in the corner of her mouth. A smile eventually spread to her own face, and with a soft giggle she leaned in to press a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before dropping her head back down. Satan ran his fingers through her hair, watching the strands fall lightly to the bed as he played with the softly curled locks. Her eyes drooped closed slightly at his actions, a small hum of approval escaping her lips.

“You should probably get some sleep, kid. You look like you need it” With that, he gently wedged an arm underneath her, lifting her back up to a sitting position. With the motion, her grip on his neck tightened again, and in her half asleep state she refused to let go of him as he tried to tuck her into bed properly.

“Noooo, stay. with me…please?” came her mumbled reply against his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere kid… now come on you need to go to sleep” He struggled to manoeuvre himself so he could lay down, which proved more difficult when she still wouldn’t let go of him. After a few failed attempts, he huffed and gently pried her arms from around her neck. He would not admit that the small groans of disapproval she made were adorable, even though they were... Eventually Satan managed to get them both better situated, laying down he pulled her against him and she buried her face in his chest while he rested his chin on the top of her head. It wasn’t long at all before she seemed as if she had fallen asleep, breathing softly against him, as he gently stroked up and down her back.

“Goodnight Natalie.” a whisper against her hairline, not really meant for her to hear. He didn't use her name often but realised after tonight, he really might have to start. Honestly he was starting to get used to the idea.

“Goodnight Satan” Her small tired reply came as a barely audible whisper, and he gave her one final squeeze as he placed a final kiss to her forehead before closing his own eyes. Even if he couldn’t sleep, he could still enjoy the peace her presence brought him.

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jakepullsthetrigger · 1 year

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I met RR from Grindr last 2017. We’ve been fucked buddies slash almost lovers for almost 5 months.

I just came out from a relationship where my ex boyfriend cheated on me.

RR just came out from a toxic relationship with his ex, tho, they were still living together since they have rented a condo unit with a contract together.

I had no issues with that. Past is past, right?

It was a bitter sweet 5 months.

Walang away. Walang gulo. Pero were crossing tight ropes.

Unsure if falling is an option. Unsure if we will try to catch each other.

Those 5 months were too good to be true.

We were there for each other.

He would go to my place always.

We will spend the evening together.

Talk about arts, and life, and things in between.

The fuck — oh, the fuck, it was so good.

He admired me and I love that feeling.

I introduced him to my dad and to my friends.

He introduced me to his friends.

Unsure of our label, we kept on clinging to each other.

We were even calling each other babe. Exchanging playlists.

Acting like lovers. The operative word - acting.

But we ended as well, like almost all acting lovers.

We were not able to translate the almost into a real one.

It was too frightening for us, so we decided that flight was the best course of action.

There were relapse. There were attempts to get it all back.

But the void was too big that we just couldn’t bring everything that has been lost together.

In the first place - there was never an us.

So there’s nothing to bring back together in the first place.

Only ghosts and memories of dream-like evenings together.

So after parting ways, I kept on sending letters to the emptiness.

Hoping that in one impossible way or another, it would reach him.

I am not expecting anything, but I just wanted him to hear it.

Here are some of those letters.

Mostly written after seeing bits of pieces of him in movies, random conversations or familiar places that we once wandered of together:

-----

RR,

I cannot recall all the details clearly.

I am standing outside the old condominium. You are standing outside somewhere else. EDSA seems peaceful on Sundays. A lady passes by with a pink umbrella. The train rushes through the railway, but slowly takes a halt as it goes to Boni Station. I see you walking towards me. Black shirt. Rubber shoes. Big smiles.

I wonder if trains also need to take a rest. My head on your chest. You create traces of unknown lands on my skin. I hear your breathing. The room gets colder the longer we stay together without any words. Our bodies refuse to tell another paragraph. We are lost. Time is just a clock. The magnitude of gravity falls into our bed, while we hear the honkers of buses outside the window.

How long has it been? It feels like a thousand march from my island to yours. We are waters apart. I still pray that the waves kiss your cheeks on my behalf. I hope that the fisher folks greet your great mornings. I hope that your village is kinder than what we have had.

I drink from a bottle of beer as if I am remembering your kisses. I follow it with a shot of tequila. After every gulp, it feels like a punch on my gut. It pains me to know not knowing. I walk home not knowing.

Do trains also need to take a rest? Maybe on Sundays. Maybe when it has been rushing too much. Maybe when it has let so many people in from and to their destination. Maybe if it has gone cold and old.

Maybe trains need to. Your side of my bed still has your name on it.

Why do you still visit me on my dreams, RR? I miss you. How long has it been?

----

You know what. I still check your blog to see if you have written any love letter lately. You see, I still hope that you will write some for me. You see, I miss talking to you. Half-drunk wits in the cold corners of the room. I remember your lips trembling. I remember how you always check the time - not because you already want to go home, but because you want the night to be longer. You know what, that scene in Saguijo is still vivid until now - we’re both holding our own bottle of Pale, few inches apart, both of us facing the now famous Ben&Ben, and then we closed our eyes as we absorbed every word of Kathang Isip, of the safe feeling amidst the noise of the crowd, of how time chose to freeze at that moment.

You know what, I didn’t really close my eyes. Looking at you at that moment was one of our loveliest moments together.

----

Here I am in Antipolo. Sitting by the window, I look at how vast the sky is. I crave for beer. I crave for you. When the wind blows, the leaves flutter, and the trees sway, and I whisper your name.

You’re somewhere in the Metro. Is it unfamiliar to see the highways empty, the streets empty, the room empty? See, unfamiliarity is the enemy of sudden longing. I crave for your touch.

I am by the sea of your hometown’s island. I stare at the sun’s reflection on the ocean. It’s a subtle way for the heavens to kiss the lands. I look at the strangers - the people, the forests, the winding pavement. I wonder, can the village trace me back to parts of you left unknown?

You’re inside the bar. Maybe two, or three bottles already. Your lips still tremble, I see. The music’s tempo is getting slower. The lights heavier. My body is a little off key with the promises we said, to not lose in this game.

I am in a rushing bus going to the city. I received another song. I remember all the songs that you sent to me. Sometimes, music is a hotline to memories. I have heard that line before somewhere, but quite different. I have heard this song before, but right now, quite different.

You’re in Rizal, I’m in Baler. In Catanduanes, in Laguna. In Mandaluyong, in Cubao. See, there was once this small dingy room where we once met. We’re all over the places, but never in the same space. See, we’ve hold each other dear, once.

----

Last night, I’ve watched Lady Bird. There was a scene where Lucas said that he wanted to go to Paris that’s why he was studying French. Yesterday, my boss replied Merci. I was unsure with the usage of Bienvenue or bienvenu. I remember a boy who keeps a daily schedule to study French. He dreams of going to Paris and settling there for good. We never had a chance to talk in French - only snippets of translations and expressions. Only kisses. Only fucking. Paris was the small room in our apartment. A friend once told me that French is a love language. I’m bad with language. My French is my silence. My French is my surrender in free fall. My French is my I’ll be there in your darkest of days. My French is holding on and kissing the bruises of history. Oh god, how can language divide strangers yet create this feeling of distance between the familiar. Boy, our tongues are more than French.

----

Laguna de Bay stretches from Metro Manila to Laguna to Rizal. The people of the lake call it Lawa ng Báé. We were in a boat without the usual katig. The moon glimmers on the gentle ripples of the lake. You were holding tight, calm yet mindful of the uncertainties that the darkness, the waters, and the danger of the unfamiliarity might bring. I remember how your lips tremble when we kiss. Shot after shot, it was an evening with the fishermen. They brought some fresh catch. We brought bottles of whiskey, I think, or brandy. I was not sure. I was sure of you. Was - imagine how words can make memories slumber in peace. I was sleeping on the bamboo bench, you on the bamboo floor just beside me. The waters rest below our bamboo hut mounted in the middle of the lake. I was sure that we were trying to hold hands while sleeping. Half drunk. We didn’t care about what the fishermen might say. The world was sober. That was the last time we’ve seen Talim Island together. The water, the sunrise, the people. The island was gentle for vagabonds like us. Gentle memories still open old scars.

-----

Dear RR, I wonder if you also think of me.

1. I have discovered that you have stopped writing after that disaster. Maybe, we’re just a little bit of bad poetry trying to make words sound a little bit better. Maybe, we have been hiding too much in parentheses that we have started to become unfamiliar of our own sentences. Tell me, were those old love letters really meant love?

2. I pray that you find refuge in yourself. Not just in the people you meet. Not just in the people you kiss. Did you kiss someone lately? It pains me to know that someone can now describe how indescribable your lips are.

3. Tell me, if you happen to pass by, will you knock at my door like an old friend visiting a familiar home? This was once our home, right? The place where everything stops. The place where logic does not reign. The place where we pray for a long evening, and a longer lifetime. Together. Can I kiss you?

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brendaonao3 · 9 months

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Just read mile high after seeing you share it in the discord and I'm just<3 l'm not really one for smut as my brain tends to just skim it without even meaning to but the description was such an interesting premise that I had to click!

I'll admit I didn't really absorb much of the sex/ beginning hotel room scene(except the dialogue- jakes thoughts getting caught for a sec on workouts lol and I love me a good hungman joke) but the whole flight I really loved the dynamic between them and Jake just really going for it with the terrible flirting was very amusing(thank the Gods Mav was Into It^TM).

And the banquet. My goodness the banquet was just. "R.I.P. his entire career." The mortification he was feeling at that moment had me all like *gasp* and ~oh fuck the / revelation/~. With the *Jake felt like he was having the weirdest out-of-body experience ever." And "Jake slumped against the wall, groaning, as his entire life flashed before his eyes. I showed goddamn naked selfies to a living legend, he groaned, mournfully. Where was an enemy MiG to take him out when he needed one?" And how fairly soon afterwards he just was like my god he's even hotter/more impressive than before.

and Starbucks at the end was perfect in how it referenced the moment of shock and wtf-ness with the embarrassment of being reminded of it. Dunno, it just felt that it helped balance and round the fic with some humour at the end. Nice and light

Sorry that this wasn't a very like full comment? Like I didn't actually include much substance i guess and I’m sorry. But comments are something I'm still getting use to doing and attaching a name to it on ao3 or direct in the discord was a bit intimidating so I thought I'd just send an anon with the thoughts my brain keeps returning to after reading it! Like I read it and I'm just sitting here like oh oh I need to reread this line or that paragraph and even tho it's not my usual sort of fic this is definitely going on my Remember/TBRR(To-Be-ReRead) list because it’s like super amazing and I love how you’ve written Jake’s enthusiasm/praise kink(his reactions to praise I guess? Is it a kink probably but there might be another word for it that I’m missing)

Thank you so so much for writing this fic and sharing it! It was a pleasure to read and sorry for word vomiting about it in your inbox

Hi there, Nonnie!!

First off, never apologize for leaving comments like this in my inbox - I've been kicking my heels like a little kid ever since I got it. It's a beautiful and beautifully detailed comment about what you liked and what grabbed you and what kept you reading, and I love reading it <3

And second, I'm thrilled that my fic made you click on a rating/trope you normally would have skipped!! That's the goal!!

So thank you again, from the bottom of my heart, and I hope you find many more fics (mine or other people's) to enjoy!! (And don't feel bad about skimming over sex scenes - I promise, you're not alone there)

#brenda answers things #top gun #hangmav #writing is hard yo #but comments like this make it worth the pain

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crovoroh · 2 years

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Gosh, so i read Runaway Max, and before i get into my book report this shit aint canon, it says its an official novel but im taking that with a grain of salt cause the cali backstory timeline doesnt match st3. But this book had so many moment where i was like oh man are they gonna go in depth with the child abuse at Billy AND Max by Neil?? And they just side stepped that narration everytime it came up. Also if i took a shot every time the author called Billy dangerous id get alcohol poisoning. I know its told from the point of view of Max but come on, you can be smarter then this. Anyways this is gonna be long and rambly probably

I just cant get over how many times this story touched base on not just telling but showing litteral child abuse and side stepped it each time, i guess the show does that too tho oop for starters fuck Neil, and also fuck Susan. If i was out on a family dinner and some man i knew for a couple months reprimanded my child for not calling him father, hed be the one being sent away from the dinner table not my child and it makes me so mad and sad that there are actually parents out there who are like that. Your gonna send MY daughter to the car for disrespecting you?? Great, im leaving with her. See you never.

Billy left the reasteraunt to talk to Max at the car and just, look. Let them bond over this awful man being awful. This to me read as Billy making an attempt to warn or maybe protect Max and its just left right here in that paragraph. It makes me so sad any possible understanding between the two starts and stops there. I know this is told from Max's point of view but its very obvious the author made up their mind on how one dimensional they think Billy is. Which is wild casue they kept pointing out signs of abuse in him, like prior to this car moment we have Max having this observation

Or this one

My guy is out right dissociating, hyper aware of his surroundings and unpredictable moods is a damn trauma response. From the words of my dear friend "you wrote a beautifully wrecked character, dont throw that thing out and teach everyone to do the same" also this aint canon but max thinks Billy is fun sometimes and that has me so soft.

And then this entire last scene in the book with billy is just, so fucking tone deaf. "he was damaged. Broken, maybe" yall i thought we were going somewhere with that but nope, im the fool for believing an abused traumatized character would get properly acknowledged but it was a big "hes just like his dad so he'll never be good and also hes worse then his dad, hes crazy" and im foaming at the mouth.

This author is such a billy anti, i think st4 took notes from her for how to represent Billy. I know its all told from Max, a 12 year old whos just sharing her feelings and observations but so much of this was just. Hhhhhh exhausting.

It wouldve been so easy to have Billy zone out and dissociate with the burning cat instead of forcing him to laugh and act insane (also if you think lighting a dead animal on fire is the making of a sociopath have you never been outside as a kid and found something dead and just, fucked with it. Its dead, i think lighting a dead animal on fire is probably the most tame tampering you could do. Not to call myself out but when i was maybe 8 i found a dead toad and i wanted to know what its skeleton looked like and how it decomposed so i took it apart. Kids are bizarre and teen boys are kinda destructive.

The whole scene with billy coming home halloween night and getting beat was upsetting and how it was never mentioned again was infuriating. Him getting attacked by Neil, punched several time getting a black eye and bloodied lip then beaten with a fucking belt. How do you just willingly write that shit then turn around and go "oh yeah nah this 17 year old who ive just said was verbally and physically abused multiple times is a dangerous monster who doesnt deserve sympathy". Im over it, if aang can put aside a century long fued to help his abused enemy who in turn still chased him off but was redeemed in the end then Billy and Max have the stepping stones to do the same, have max put an ice pack down, let billy Sort himself out, its so easily im going insane

And that bullyshit narrative of saying Neil is racist and how Billy probably is too. fuck that, i cant speak for the racism but when i made my first trans friend i was nervous about having them at the house cause i wasnt sure how my family would react or treat my friend so i opted to keep her away too, my situation was more tame then Max, Billy and Lucas' and my family turned out to not be transphobic so it was fine but im gonna self project that Billy was just manic and worried about Max hanging with a black kid and what Neil would do to lucas and max if he saw them. Seeing as how the man got away with denying Max dinner right infront of Susan who did nothing. But also max says how shes not like her parents so its just unfair to turn around and go neil is awful so billy is also awful and wont ever get better

This book isnt canon but i want a similar book from Billy's point of view. But also all things considered i did like the insight into Max's possibly past in cali, her relationship with her dad and mom was pretty neat, even tho, say it with me, its not canon, i refuse, I'll believe in bigfoot before believing this book was proof read by anyone working on the actual show 🥴 i have more to say but its 2 in the morning and i think my eyes are leaking outa my skull, hope this incoherent lmaoo

#But i guess its true to the show by showing him sad and broken then mean and nasty in the same breath #Idk the more hate i see thrown at billy the stronger i love him lol #This is just a bullshit ramble #Stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #Runaway max

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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cant-get-no-worse · 11 months

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The situation with Gavi and Spain fans has really rattled me and got me thinking. It is shameful that they are treating this 18 year old boy who is the same age as me the way they are. He deserves respect for the way he gives his all for his club and his country and to see his efforts be rewarded in such ways is just sad. For me, those “fans” who are treating him the way they are aren’t really fans at all and I have no respect for them. This situation also got me thinking about what football, both club and country, mean to me because I simply cannot comprehend hating on your own player who won a trophy for you so enjoy this brain vomit of mine.

How do I perceive football and what does it mean to me?

Football is the whole country holding its breath during the penalty shootout. It’s the sweet taste of victory and the disappointment of defeat. It’s celebrating every medal like it’s gold because our players have given their all and deserve to feel how proud they made us. It’s watching football in school because of the winter World Cup. It’s driving towards my grandparents house during Brazil-Croatia game and not being able to sit still while listening to live commentary. It’s my mum agreeing to let me put on a football match(even though she would like to watch something else)because she knows how much I want to watch it. It’s Croatian football songs playing at 9am the day of the match. It’s believing we play better in white and red checkered kits. It’s Luka Modrić 10 and Leo Messi 10 at the same time. It’s me(who is a Barca fan through and through) and my friend(who bleeds Madrid white) sitting side by side on the bus while coming home from swim competition and watching El Classico at one shared phone. It’s the bragging rights each of us gets for a day when our team wins. It’s me losing my mind at stunts Gavi pulls and her laughing her head off at my reaction. It’s her congratulating me on Barca winning La Liga and me congratulating her on Madrid’s UCL run this year. It’s her hoping we sign Messi(when it still seemed like it would happen) and me hoping that Madrid manage to sign Bellingham (because she was really excited about the idea of it even before it was a reality ). It’s me and my other friend (who is City fan) shit talking one another’s club just to rile each other up but agreeing that Pep is the best. It her already planning to visit me in London so we can watch some City away game even tho I still have to get the grades for my offer to even be sure I’m going to be studying there next year. It’s me rattling out stats for any player my guy friend ask me about and getting their respect. It’s me checking the scores of the games while preparing for my exams and having a silly victory dance when we score. It’s the beginning in love with Barca’s defense and midfield and attack and defending them even when they suck. It’s the pain of saying goodbye to Camp Nou and the happiness of having had the chance to see it as it was. It’s the brightness of the future that lies ahead of this Barca team and the happiness that I will be there to witness it. Its every Visca Barca and Visca Catalunya. It’s the pride and the joy and the love. It’s the beautiful game.

Sorry for sending in such a long ask which isn't even an ask but I wanted to share my thoughts with someone and you have such a beautiful paragraphs about Messi and Barca that I thought you might appreciate it🥲

I've kept that ask a few days in my inbox just to re-read it; it makes me proud and joyful to have created such space were you feel you can write this. Thank you for sharing this beautiful bits of your life, these bridges thrown, connections created, memories formed at such odd little corner stones of our lives that make futbol, ultimately, more than just shouting at some 22 players on a field. Also serves to remind us, although the institution is ugly to look at, although these players often disappoint us, that ultimately it's not about them, but above the sport itself. 💕

#anon ask #futbol #it makes me so happy <3

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blackballfics · 2 years

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The Oracle

by Tzilviainjune

read: 54/?

promising start but it's a bit too focused on the romance part for me (lots of NSFW parts that I skip so i end up skipping what feels like half the fic)

maybe I've been reading too many slow burns by dint of not liking romance that much and most slow burns need a plot outside of the characters' feelings but I feel like the relationships develop really fast

reading it in one sitting was fine bc skipping paragraphs is not hard when u have a ton of chapters to go but if you're skipping half the chapter it gets boring

plot twist(s) very predictable. I didn't even notice they were supposed to be twists until the A/N or comments

kind of forgettable? the fic updates regularly but I only ever remember the general idea even though I started reading maybe two chapter updates ago

sometimes feels OOC or at least doesn't fit my personal interpretation/memory of the characters, so I won't tag it bc it's not really apparent

it's actually solid writing tho, chapters are a good length, lots of fluff to the point of being cheesy sometimes

Plot Summary:

The OC gets kidnapped into the MHA universe through a Quirk and gets rescued by Aizawa. She soon spills the beans surrounding the plot, particularly the League and Eri, so outside of Tsukauchi, Aizawa and All Might, Sir Nighteye is also involved right from the start.

She is hired by Nedzu as an assistant teacher for Hizashi soon after, by recommendation of Aizawa, both to keep her closer to where she can be easily accessible and because of budding feelings that develop rapidly. The Dorms are instated sooner to keep the students, Todoroki in particular, safer, but it also gives the newly dubbed Hope a place to stay on a more permanent basis.

An operation to send her home goes awry and Hope has to come to terms with being a permanent fixture in the MHA universe, being a parent to Eri and a bit of relationship issues with that are surprisingly not cause by either of the parties in the actual relationship, not necessarily in that order.

During the Summer Camp, the League still attacks and still manages to kidnap someone, but it's Hope instead of Bakugo. Shadow, an agent for the HPSC that had originally warned them about the HPSCs movements to obtain Eri, is also at the Hideout. The rescue mission goes similarly to canon, even when the original Hideout changed as Hope knew about it and the League knows that the Heroes know. However, it turns out the Shadow is Hopes brother and he is trying to change the plot from the side of the villains. For one, he's already revealed AfO's plans regarding Shigaraki, so the Meta Liberation Army has a very low probability of forming. He leaves before Hope gets any kind of concrete answers.

Post Kamino Arc, if that is even still called that, it turns out that Nighteye knew the Camp would be attacked but kept quiet as he believed it to be inescapable. The operation to send Hope home also went awry because he refused to rely on his Quirk, so tensions are understandably running high. In addition, the Heroes are skeptical of Shadows identity as Hope's brother as he could be a fabrication made by a Quirk.

#BNHA #MHA #canon timeline #transmigration #Fix-It #OC #reader #canon divergence

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nar-nia · 2 years

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hi, Nina :((

why does it feel like a goodbye?

“aftermath” was a closure, it felt very bitter at the beginning tho, the overall sadness got me, but the THE HERO hoonie :((( he was so sweet, im so happy that it went this way, the fact that he wanted her cuz she was good like wow, it must felt so heartwarming that after everything he was so confident in her <33

also the distance :((( so sad she pushed them away :(( but i get it it must have been so hard,

but god.. the way heey/n came back to each other was adorable <33

and finally the great reunion!!! and for what a great reason!!! congrats to them!!! i'm happy they all got close and after everything became friends

the last paragraph, my heart skipped a beat a little with heeseung “i love you” </3 what a why to end this beautiful story!!!!!!!!!! i cant believe its over :///

so i guess this is it, huh? why does it feel like a goodbye?

i remember, how i came across part 2 (i think) of love with benefits and i was instantly stunned cuz it was so good and i got so invested! and so every friday in my mind was lwb day </3

talking to u after reading chapters was something im gonna treasure cuz i don't know... u felt safe, ur whole blog feels safe, and like coming home from rainy day when u forgot an umbrella and u finally close the door and feel warm again or like when u sit in ur bed with fuzzy socks on and a cup of hot chocolate in the middle of snowy day… i guess what i'm trying to say its it felt just right, fuzzy on the heart <33

thank you for bringing this amazing story to life with ur mesmerizing writing, it brought me so much joy and happiness, truly, it was a fantastic ride that i got to be a part of :))) i will always cherish this story because it brought u to me, well this sounds…cheesy but honestly i don't even care,i that's how i feel so yeah

u are amazing and so sweet and i truly love love love this blog and the space it creates <33

even though its over, it will always live in my mind, you know? love u dearly nina ✨ 💖

my beloved anon, i am crying and i honestly don't know what to say. i love you 💖

thank you so, so much for reading and for all the sweet asks you sent me during this. they really kept me going and i was looking forward to every new chapter because i knew i would get a new message in my ask box.

hero hoonie sounds so nice 🥺 that was kind off the first closure in this story, after who knows how many chapters of doubt we finally get one final "well done" from hoonie. I actually already teared up a bit while writing it (and even more while rereading).

this is really it and i can't believe it myself yet. what am i going to do on fridays now? i didn't think lwb ending would affect me this much but i think your ask made me realize that it's really over now. that sounds so dramatic 😅 but i love(d) this series a lot.

all those things you said about my blog make me so, so happy. being a safe place where you like to be and like to stay is all i could wish for, and i'm glad that you feel comfortable here. thank YOU for making me feel welcome and for your sweet asks, and for being here. it really means a lot that you put the effort in to consistently send me messages <33

thank you for being here, thank you for sticking around and thank you for being such a kind, amazing person. love you 💖💖

#talk that talk 📣

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traumxrei-archive · 2 years

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【 cupid's got me in a chokehold 】

author's note: today's white day ! and i forgot,,,so i wrote about my favorite boys n what they would give the prefect on white day ! just a heads up, they're in paragraphs so. yes. this is entirely self-indulgent, so if you'd like to request your faves, please do so next time my requests are open (i'll do them in the hc style tho bc this took a loooong time to do)

characters: azul ashengrotto, floyd leech, jade leech, leona kingscholar

gender neutral! prefect, long-ass drabbles, self-indulgent !!

The Prefect didn't know what to expect for White Day. They had given their, ah, crush some homemade chocolates for Valentine's Day. But what if they don't get a gift in return? Well, today was the day. Now, what would he give them in return?

Azul Ashengrotto

azul ashengrotto. that was the name of their crush. it's kinda hard to have a crush on someone who's so busy all the time. they could barely catch glimpses of him at mostro lounge on a good day, and they were too busy focusing to really talk in class.

so when they gave him a valentine's gift, they pondered if he would have the time to even think about giving them a gift for white day. and on the day, their fears were confirmed.

they had kept their eyes peeled all day for just a sign of silvery hair to no avail. they were sure that azul had forgotten, trying to convince themself that it was okay; that he was a busy man after all.

until there was a knock on their door. it was evening time, and they had just queued up a sad song playlist to play as they lamented a gift-less white day.

to their surprise, floyd was there, "heya shrimpy ! 'm here to take you to mostro lounge, azul's orders."

"azul?" their stomach started to flip. "wait, it's nighttime what does he want-" they didn't get to finish because floyd was picking them up by the waist like they were some purse dog.

and that was how they entered the empty-looking mostro lounge.

"floyd, i do not think azul would be pleased if you carried them like that," jade sighed as he saw them.

floyd put them down fairly quickly, strangely enough, "alright alri~ght. today's azul's day so imma be nice."

"come through here, prefect," jade gestured further into the lounge. "azul is waiting for you." there were nerves buzzing at their fingertips as they walked, seeing a brightly lit table in the middle of the dark lounge.

and there was azul. they felt their breath stolen from them because of how was looking at them, a soft emotion shining in those crystalline eyes.

"thank you for coming this evening," azul gently grasped their hand, leading them to the table. "sorry that i didn't send, ah, prior notice."

"it's alright," their eyes track his movements as he walked over to the other side. "so...what's the occasion?" they had dared to hope, but...this was azul, it could've been anything.

azul blinked, "did you perhaps think that i would forget about white day?"

"k-kind of? i mean, y-you're really busy, so i figured that you wouldn't have time," a familiar heat crawled up their neck as they stuttered, and they felt their heart doing a frantic dance against their ribs.

"i'm offended that you think so little of me," azul's laugh trickled through the air. "how could i forget to give you a gift in return for those chocolates? they were...very sweet."

"they were tasty," floyd's voice startled them, and their head snapped up to see food lining the table, with jade bringing in another plate. "but azul wouldn't let me have more than one. even though he doesn't like chocolate." something within their chest fluttered with excitement. azul liked their chocolates! mission success, they made their crush happy!

"isn't this around the time you show them the contract?" jade said, smiling eerily. oh no. not a contract.

azul coughed at the mention of it, "you two, always rushing things. very well, please leave me and the prefect alone." as soon as the tweels were gone, azul hesitantly pulled out a sheaf of paper, "it is...a bilateral contract concerning...certain things that are of importance of me. take your time to read over it."

they looked over the contract, and stopped short when they saw the words "relationship agreement" somewhere near the end. they couldn't help but let out a short laugh. an idea popped into their head as they took up azul's pen.

"w-wait, you're going to sign it already?" azul's glasses looked like they were about to fall off in his hurry. "y-you're not going to think about it a little more?"

they shook their head, turning the papers over and scribbling on the back of it:

will you date me? (circle your answer below)

yes or no

"i have a contract of my own to propose, azul," they slid the paper back to him, watching in delight as his face erupted into red as he read the words.

azul took up his pen, circling something before sliding it back, "i...look forward to your cooperation from now on..." his voice was soft, and they couldn't help but smile at this more unguarded side of him.

they took the paper. he had circled yes.

Floyd Leech

floyd leech is...floyd leech. when the prefect gave him a valentine's gift, they were already 80% sure that the eel would forget all about white day.

but then there's floyd, in all his 191cm glory, waiting in front of their classroom before lunch. they tried to ignore the way their heart raced seeing the wide grin on his face as he waved.

oh. so the 20% chance might actually happen.

"shrimpy ! 'm here to kidnap you for lunch~" they ignore the way everyone else gave floyd a wide berth, coming up close to the eel.

they snorted, "you're not that good of a kidnapper if you're telling me that."

"then should i pick you up and run?" floyd's grin grew mischievous. "that'd be fun, i bet mackerel and crabby are gonna start yelling."

"please don't." they could see the start of a whole series of troubles if he did. though it might've been fun. trouble and floyd leech were never far from each other.

"i'm a good eel today, so imma just squeeze your hand," he said, grabbing their hand. "let's go shrimpy ! i have a surprise for you!"

he lead them away through the twisting hallways, his pace going from slow and purposeful to rushed skipping and hopping. he twirled them around, following music that only he could hear. and they should've known that walking with floyd probably didn't entail much walking at all.

finally they arrived at a room with wide windows that they had never seen before. "sit, sit," floyd patted the window ledge. "now 's just me and you."

he pulled out a box, "heard from jade about that white day thing. shrimpy gave me some nice chocolates last time, so i got you something too~"

he opened the box, taking out some of its contents and puffing out his chest, "this is a~ll for you shrimpy!" they're all smaller in size, a box full of gifts that they couldn't quite understand.

they pointed at a tiny shrimp figurine, "what's this one?"

"oh, that's a tiny shrimp. i saw it at sam's 'n it's tiny, like you," he held on to it defensively. "that's for me though, you get this really cool and handsome eel one." there's a matching figurine of an eel next to it and they couldn't help but laugh at his attention to detail.

"and this one?" they point at what looked like a jewel. they hoped that he didn't take it from somewhere.

"hm? oh that's a stone i got in professor beakfish's class. it kinda looks like your eyes."

they hesitated before picking it up, "wouldn't it be better if you give it to azul?"

"but i don't wanna! i don't care if it's expensive, it's not for him it's for you, shrimpy!" there was a pout on his face, which was a telltale sign his mood was worsening.

they quickly reassured him, "i love it floyd. it's amazing you can make something so cool in alchemy class." his mood brightened a little after that.

after going through a few more, they realize that these were all items that reminded floyd of them. this type of gift was so very floyd and their heart warmed at his little explanations

then floyd snapped, "ah i almost forgot! i made a drink cuz i felt like it. it's called love potion. i made it especially for you~"

they stared at the flask hesitantly, the sweet smell of the drink wafting into their nose, "that's not...a real love potion right?"

he blinked at them for a moment before something in his eyes change. oh. shit. they knew trouble was coming when he leaned over, knocking down his carefully laid out gifts in favor of putting his face close to theirs.

"shrimpy always says the funniest things," floyd's signature grin was back, all teeth and curve. "why would i needa potion if you're already madly in love with me~?"

Jade Leech

it was early in the morning when they received a knock on their door. they had barely gotten their bearings together before answering, ready to berate adeujack for coming to their door so early.

instead, they were met with a chest. a very familiar chest, clad in octavinelle colors. they craned their neck to see the polite smile of one jade leech. in panic, they tried to slam the door back closed, but he had gotten a grip on it.

"my, i am hurt that you tried to close the door on me," he said, letting himself in. their breaths came faster as jade disappeared inside the house, mind racing to try and figure out why exactly their crush was in their house so early in the morning.

was it some special occasion? his birthday? or did grim get into debt again? great seven, they hoped it wasn't the latter. they didn't have hours to spare working to pay off the debt.

"are you coming, prefect?" jade's voice rang out and they scrambled towards the lounge.

"good of you to finally join me. before you ask, i have come today to give you this." it was a spherical glass bowl with an opening on the side that was filled with small plants.

"is that...one of your terrariums?" they knew about jade's hobby of scouring the mountains for rare mushrooms and bringing back plants for his terrariums. but the question was, why he was giving a terrarium to them, of all people.

"yes, well. it's yours now," jade placed it on the table. "i'll teach you how to take care of it since we have time before class starts."

"wait, i'm sorry jade but why are you gifting me something that's so precious to you...?" they didn't mean to sound ungrateful. it's just they knew how much effort he put into each and every terrarium he built. it was

jade raised a brow, "you are a lot more forgetful than i thought. though i suppose it is quite early in the morning. today is white day."

their brain buffered for a bit. white day? oh. white day. this was their crush giving them a gift in return for those chocolates they gave him on valentine's day. great seven how could they forget?

the eel chuckled, "that's quite an adorable expression you're making. well? will you sit down as i explain?" they nodded, sitting down right next to him, but not before they felt their heart flutter at his casual comment. they listened intently as he explained basic succulent care for them.

it turned out that he had picked the perfect plant for them: something that didn't need too much careful attention to keep alive. of course jade knew about the busy life they led at nrc, their hands full just trying to keep grim out of trouble. they imagined that jade was in the same situation with his twin.

toward the end of it, he patted their head, which really wasn't helping the butterflies that were stuck at their throat, "t-thank you, jade. this is...a really meaningful gift."

"don't think too much of it," jade said, before his smile finally turned sharp; a little dangerous. "if this hadn't worked i had other plans. after all, this is simply an excuse to see you more often."

Leona Kingscholar

they should've known something like this would happen. they were currently walking all the way to the hall of mirrors to get to savanaclaw, all because of a lazy lion by the name of leona kingscholar. who also happened to be their crush, which was probably in the top five worst decisions they've ever made. and no, they will not elaborate. well, maybe they will elaborate. just a little.

earlier in the afternoon, they had greeted ruggie at ramshackle's door after their classes, "delivery service~ today i'm your friendly delivery man, here to give you this letter- for a hefty price."

their eyes narrowed, "do i have to pay you?"

"nah, leona already gave me a handsome sum for this, so rest easy," the hyena handed over the letter before letting out his signature laugh. "shishishi~ best of luck, prefect."

leona? writing them a letter? was this the day that pigs flew? then again, they wouldn't be surprised if pigs did fly here. it was twisted wonderland after all.

they opened the envelope, carefully removing the letter inside to reveal his annoyingly perfect handwriting:

dear herbivore,

come over to my room. i ain't writing a whole sappy letter for white day or whatever it's called, but your gift is here.

come quick or else i'll go to sleep.

leona.

and that was where it led them, fuming slightly less than before because what was stopping him from using ruggie's delivery service to give them their gift? but at the same time they were...excited to see what leona got them. they couldn't believe that leona of all people would get them a white day gift.

they walked into his room to find the lion lying down on the couch for once, tail flicking lazily in the air. there was a brown box next to him, and his ears swiveled as they walked over to him.

he didn't budge when they picked up the box, "this is the gift right? i'll get going no-"

"wait," green eyes were on theirs, his hand grasping their arm. "open it in front of me. c'mon." they sighed before sitting down. his tail came to rest against their leg as they peeled the tape that sealed the box.

the packaging was simple, and it was obvious that leona probably did it himself. and they appreciated his effort, minimal as it was. leona wasn't one to get gifts, he seemed to show his affections in a different way.

"this is..." they were almost rendered speechless. "you were listening to me that time?" inside was a pair of leather gloves, shiny and new still in its packaging.

it was a fairly normal gift if you didn't know how much it meant to them. they vaguely remembered ranting to leona about the time grim had spilled their potions assignment all over their school uniform gloves, ruining them entirely. but they had thought he was asleep at that time.

leona scoffed, "of course i was listening, herbivore. try 'em on." they did, and they fit well, like a glove.

"these are perfect, i..." they looked at leona, who was still watching them intently, before smiling. "thank you, leona."

there was a low hum, and he entwined their hands, leather warming under his touch, "yeah. i should do this much as your boyfriend."

they swore they heard a record scratch playing in their ears. did he just...? "you're my...boyfriend-!"

"yeah?" leona sat up, frowning while still holding their hand. "you said that we were dating if i took your chocolates."

that sent a wave of heat rushing to their face at the memory, "it was sarcasm! valentine's day is supposed to be romantic but you're not...exactly...romantic so i was joking, kind of, and-"

he gave a hard tug to their arm, making them fall right into his chest, "what? ya don't want to date me, herbivore? got someone else on your mind?"

they couldn't really think when his handsome stupid face was right in front of them like that! especially not when he was still squeezing their hand tight, as if scared for their answer.

after they shook their head, a slow smirk spread on leona's face, "that's what i thought, herbivore. you're stuck with me whether you like it or not. and we both know you like it."

want a request ? check out the request menu for details ! wanna read more ? check the masterlist for more works!

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