#just. reminder that i write for fun not for you
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
OH EM G!!!! so so delighted you reminded me of those excerpts from moby dick bc they actually genuinely make my brain melt every time i read them bc like!!!!! ishmael PRAYING WITH QUEEQUEG?? oouuugh my god i thingk my stomach is spilling out of my mouf[positive]. like.....wough......the deep kindness and comfort of engaging in worship w someone.....the fact that it's j the two of them chilling in their room having a little pray and ishmael makes sure to to it EXACTLY how queequed did it??? w the biscut offering and everything??? the will of god being fellowship and kindness and leveling yourself with humanity, ergo you pray beside your new friend??? ooughhh tangentially, as a muslim, i always found it just a touch fun that queequeg is like....an absolute mess of a mishmash of 'umm uhhh what do the non-christians do....uhh....tattoos...um...uh...weaponry...uh...wooden idol...okay he'll do that!!' so there's like a sprinkling of islamic dust on my boy [phrasing of 'salaaming' to the idol, plus a segment where queequeg was fasting and ishmael specifically described it as a "Ramadan" of sorts iirc], so it's kinda silly nice for Good Christian Boy to so openly be 'it's the will of captial G God to be chill with non christians!!! bc i said so!!!' [for all the noble-savage characterization queequeg gets, occasionally melville will pull up w a line and im j like....oouhhh....there's something happening under the hood here...]
It is Very delightful, he's so progressive in that way. He's got it more right than some of the modern christians. But queequeg's characterization is just so funny to me because it really is just this strange little mix. It feels like he's trying to be aggressively racist but he's already pulling from a bank of racist and xenophobic stereotypes and it ends up just aging really terribly. The way he writes is also a little funny to me, I'm so curious if Melville has ever met someone similar to how he described queequeg or if he's just guestimating it
281 notes
·
View notes
Text
On a Wing and a Prayer
Part 11 - Epilogue
CW: nightmares.
AN: I have had so much fun writing this. It was such a breath of fresh air to take a break from my main series and write a quick 'mini fic'. I have other ideas for more 'mini fic's' in the future. For now I thought I should wrap this up. Thank you for everyone who liked commented and shared this around, even for people who just read it and enjoyed it, thank you so much and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.
Previous parts - masterlist
As soon as Simon is discharged you all fly back to the UK.
You end up at the house with Simon on bed rest. Not that he listens, he’s worse than Johnny was. You stay in the house with them, sleeping in the bed with Simon so you can help him when he needs to pee in the middle of the night.
John has been busy cleaning up the mess from the base as well as making sure Simon doesn’t get discharged. Him and Kyle usually spend their days out at a base somewhere leaving you Johnny and Simon at the house. You don’t mind, you’ll spend as much time as you can with them.
Johnny cooks and cleans, Simon jokes he’s turning into a housewife. When you offer to help none of them will have it, doting on you almost as much as Simon.
“You don’t have to feel guilty. I can do things for myself.” You remind them.
“Don’t even think about it. What did you want? A sandwich?” Johnny asks and sticks his head out from round the kitchen.
“Cheese and pickle.” You smile. Simon’s hands grip your waist pulling you back up against him.
“And a packet of quavers.” He whispers in your ear.
“And a packet of quavers.” You call. You lay back against him and he kisses your head.
“You’re one tough cookie, you know that.” He says after a few minutes of silence. You turn to look up at him, frowning.
“What Graves put you through. What I-” He chokes on the words. You break away from his embrace.
“Stop. We don’t have to talk about this.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek. You sigh watching his eyes drop.
“Simon.” You stop, you're not sure what you want to say. You pick up one of his hands. “It’s okay, I spent months in therapy, It’s part of the job. You were just doing your job.”
He hangs his head and sighs. “It’s not fair, we shoulda waited, you deserve better.” You lean over and kiss him. Deep pressing your tongue in his mouth, you wrap one of your hands round the back of his neck. You pull away from the kiss put keep your forehead on his.
“You don’t get to feel guilty Simon Riley. I forgive you. I love you.” You sit back on your knees looking at him, squeezing his hand, you smile.
“I love you too.” He says. You rub his cheek again then turn to lay back in his arms. As soon as his arm has come round your chest, he plants a kiss on your head and Johnny comes in with a plate of food. Simon leans over picking up the packet of quavers.
“Nothing else till later you’ll spoil yer tea, John’s bringing fish n' chips.” Johnny says walking out the room. You smile and reach over for your plate.
…
You must have fallen asleep in Simon’s arms because the slamming of the front door jumps you out of what was starting to feel like an overly realistic dream. The smell of fish and chip fat fills your nose as John and Kyle walk into the living room.
“Have you two been sat their all day?” Kyle asks, kicking his shoes off.
“Mother won’t let us leave.” You say, your voice grumbles with sleep. Simon starts to sit up and you do the same yawning and stretching your arms and legs. John has gone out into the kitchen while Kyle opens the bags of food on the coffee table.
“Got cod, chips, peas and scraps. What do you want?” Kyle asks, John comes back with plates. Kyle serves Simon as John comes over to kiss the top of your head. You look up at him smiling.
“Busy day?” You ask as he strokes your chin with his thumb.
“Always busy when we’re around.” John says going over to the other sofa. As Kyle piles a plate high with chips and fish for him, then passes it to him with a fork.
“Heard back from the medical board yet?” Johnny asks as he comes into the room with a bottle of pop and glasses.
“As a matter of fact-” John starts as he rests the plate on his lap reaching over to his bag next to the sofa. He rummages through muttering to himself until he pulls out a piece of paper. He hands it out to Simon. “Expect to see you back for duty in a month, Lieutenant.” John smiles. Johnny’s giddy snatching the paper out John's hand and reading it like he almost doesn’t believe it.
“Fuck you got a whole 2 months off. I only got a month.” He says reaching over to hand it to Simon. “I even had one of those lung things.” He says, shaking his head, clicking his fingers at you.
“A lung resection.” You say leaning over Simon's shoulder to look at the letter.
“Took half me bloody lung out! I’ll never smoke again.” He says sitting down on the sofa next to John. You look at Kyle chuckling and scooting back on the floor to sit between John's legs.
“You don’t smoke Johnny.” You say looking back over at him. John is fishing through his bag for something else. He reaches out to you. It’s folded up in an envelope.
“Transfer papers. For you to sign. That is if you really do want to come back.” There’s silence in the room, the only noise coming from the low volume of the TV, everyone is looking at you as you reach out to take the papers. You smile nodding then sit back on the sofa opening them up.
You hear Johnny and Kyle start up a conversation as you read over the standard legal jargon of the contract. You do want to join 141 again, you just hope nothing has changed.
…
You dream a lot about your torture, thats normal thats to be expected. When it’s a good day it’s Graves and his faceless shadows. When it’s a bad day its John and Simon, Simon never has his mask on unlike your actual torture.
He didn’t do it, Ghost did. That's what you tell yourself when you wake in a pool of sweat panting, feeling like someone is sitting on your chest. Your legs and arms tingle.
Yesterday was a good day, but you dreamt it was John. You look over in the bed trying to slow your breathing. Simon’s back is turned to you, you can hear him snoring softly. You turn over in bed sitting up. Your transfer papers sit on your bedside table, illuminated by the crack in the curtains.
You get up and sneak out the room trying to be as quiet as you can so you don’t wake Simon. You step over the hall to John’s room. When you push the door open you see him and Kyle lying in bed. Suddenly you want to go back, leave them be.
You can’t, you want to be with them. You slowly crawl on the bottom of the bed, Kyle has his back pressed up against John, as soon as he feels you start to wiggle between him he snaps awake.
“Hey love, you okay?” Kyle asks making room so you can crawl in.
“Yeah.” You whisper shuffling under the sheets. John turns around in the bed his arm coming over you to reach Kyle. A second later he seems to notice you in the bed, his hand comes up to brush your face.
“Something wrong, you’ve been crying love?” He says his voice deep from sleep. You didn’t even realise that.
“I just missed you,” You say, turning to face him. His thumb brushes your cheeks, your eyes have adjusted to the light and you can see his eyes shining in the dark.
“We’re all here.” Kyle says shifting up behind you pulling your shoulder slightly so you lay against him. You smile.
“I know, I know you are.” You say, closing your eyes. Kyle kisses the top of your head and John moves closer to you pulling the duvet up to your neck. He kisses you, a soft peck on your lips, you feel the tickle of his beard. His arm rests on your waist, rubbing your side as he breaks away from the kiss.
You close your eyes letting them hold you in their arms, the sound of their breathing lulls you back to sleep.
…
You’re up early the next morning slipping out the bed before anyone else is up. You’re sat at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in your hands when John makes his way over to the coffee machine.
“Mornin’” he says, turning it on.
“You going to the base today?” You ask taking a sip as he takes a mug down from the cupboard.
“Yeah, still got a bunch of intel to go through on the Makarov leads.” he says, turning to look at you while the coffee machine warms up. You slide the envelope over to him.
“Think I can help?” You ask, smiling. He comes round to you, throwing his arms around you before you have a chance to stop him. He buries his nose into your neck and you hug him back.
“You know for a second I was worried you changed your mind.” He breaks from the hug cupping your cheeks.
“I love you.” You say. He kisses you.
“I love you too.” You smile the biggest smile at him as you hear the coffee machine beep.
“Mornin’ lass sleep well?” Johnny asks, his hand landing on your back. John gets up going back to the coffee machine.
“Yeah. I did.” You smile going to take another sip of your tea.
You sleep well that night too, squished between Johnny and Simon. There are no more bad day or good day dreams. Nightmares come sometimes but it’s always Graves and his faceless shadows, and when you do wake in a panic someone is always there. John or Simon, Kyle or Johnny. They’re always by your side.
You stick by their side too, besides someone has to pull the bullets out of them.
Banners by firefly-graphics
#fanfic#call of duty#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#ghost cod#kyle gaz x reader#kyle garrick#kyle gaz x you#ghost simon riley#john price#simon x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x reader#captain john price#john price x reader#john price x you#task force 141#poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#poly 141#cod john price
80 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, fun request here!
Could you do Telemachus and a younger sister reader? Maybe around like 14 since Telemachus was around 20 at the end of the odyssey (I know the math doesn’t make sense because of Odysseus’s adventure but like trust) and just show like Telemachus protecting her from the suitors to the best of his ability or something? And like just a cute sibling relationship? :)
୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader platonic
୨୧┇I love writing platonic stuff more than romantic honestly
────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───
The great hall of Ithaca’s palace echoed with laughter as the suitors lounged in their stolen comfort. Their voices got on your nerves, their presence a reminder of how powerless you and your family had been for years. You lingered near the edge of the hall. At fourteen, you were too young to truly understand the depth of their insolence, but old enough to feel the sting of their mockery when they noticed you.
“Ah, little princess!” one of the suitors called, a smirk curling his lips. Eurymachus, always the boldest. “Come here, won’t you? Pour me some wine.” You hesitated, your grip tightening on your chiton as your heart raced. The way his eyes gleamed made you want to run, but you couldn’t, your pride wouldn’t allow it.
“Leave her alone,” a firm voice cut through the noise.
Telemachus.
Your older brother stepped into the hall, his presence commanding attention. His gaze burned with defiance as he crossed the room, placing himself squarely between you and Eurymachus.“Are you deaf, boy?” Eurymachus sneered, leaning back in his chair. “I said the little princess should pour me wine.”
“And I said leave her alone,” Telemachus snapped, his voice steady and sharp. The hall grew quieter, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
“She’s just a child,” Telemachus continued, his eyes blazing. “You have no right to speak to her that way.” Eurymachus’s smirk faded, replaced by a scowl. He stood, towering over Telemachus, but your brother didn’t flinch.
“She’s the daughter of Odysseus,” Telemachus said, his voice unwavering. “And until my father returns, I’ll protect her with my life.” Your heart swelled with pride and relief, but also fear. Eurymachus was a cruel man, and you worried what he might do.
But before anything could escalate further, another suitor, Amphinomus, intervened, placing a hand on Eurymachus’s shoulder. “Let it go,” he said, his tone wary. Eurymachus grumbled something under his breath before slumping back into his chair. The hall slowly returned to its previous clamor, but the suitors left you alone after that.
Telemachus turned to you, his expression softening. He gently took the tray from your trembling hands and set it down on a nearby table. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice quiet now.
You nodded, though your hands still shook. “I… I didn’t know what to do.” He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything, Y/N. I’ll handle them.”
Tears pricked your eyes as you looked up at him. “Why do they have to be so awful?”
“Because they’re cowards,” Telemachus said, his jaw tightening. “But don’t worry. Father will be back soon, and when he is, they’ll regret ever setting foot in this palace.”
You managed a small smile, comforted by his confidence. “Come on,” he said, guiding you out of the hall. “You don’t need to be around them anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”
As he led you to the quieter parts of the palace, you felt a wave of gratitude for your brother.
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reminder for every fandom writer or anyone wanting to write fanfic but is nervous to: Fanfic is not supposed to be good!! They're supposed to be fun and enjoyable, and I think many fandom spaces are forgetting that fact and it's ruining them!!
Some fanfics are just as well made, if not even better made than actual published books, and that's amazing, but that is not what the standard should be. Some of my favorites fics of all time were not beautifully written or incredibly eloquent or even realistic in the slightest! But all of my favorites were fun and enjoyable and just charming.
And that's not to say that if you enjoy writing that you shouldn't keep trying to fly higher with your writing or get better. But what I am saying is too many people get discouraged from writing fanfic in fear people will think it's "Wattpad writing" or "Not good enough" compared to the other writers in their same space. But "Wattpad writing" is literally what keeps fandoms alive!! There is a reason some of the best fanfics you'll ever read are by people in their late late 20s or 30s with full time jobs and with kids, it's because they've had that much time to practice and improve their writing.
Stop keeping yourself back from having fun or finding passionate in things you already enjoy because there are people who are better or won't appreciate your creations because I promise you there are more people who will!
This doesn't just go for writing, same thing goes for fanart or edits, fandoms are supposed to be fun, bring that back in 2025
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gladly 😂🫶
Loll I'm loving how you're writing his internal monologue -- matches his quirky personality well. 😂
One thing I missed when writing Beau (although he can be a lil goofball 💚). But Dean, Russell, and SB are just bound to have more hilarious inner monologues 🤣 (Russ did remind me a lot of PH Dean because of the blatant sneakiness. He's a little shit too lol)
Again, lmao great personality color, and so freakin' relatable!
His paranoia and suspicion was so fun to write throughout lol
LOLL. That's so very Colter. 😂
He was definitely not happy with Russell in this part 😅 LMAO. Classified, indeed. 😏 Can I hope for one of your legendary flashbacks in the future??
Welp, I might have caught the flashback bug. I went with a whole prequel this time 😂 (And of course, the kitchen island story comes back up in detail 😏) Most of the references to their past are actually stories in the prequel series. Was fun (and a bit insane) to wove 'em all in 🤪
Russ just HAD to bring up Reenie multiple times, didn't he? It's feeling very much The Misadventures of Russ and Colter, and I'm so here for it. 🤣
Bahaha totally! They're a bit of chaotic team 😂 I loved writing all the teasing about Reenie. Of course Russell wouldn't let that go (also a great deflection from his own problems lol)
(Also, not the "midlife crisis beard" 🤣)
lmao it comes back too 🤣🤣
But OMG they were married?!!! And why would she send the papers just to get his attention? Good Lord, so many questions…
Hahaha I loved dropping that casual reveal in there 😆 He was already so vague about how long they were actually together, this didn't feel like a big stretch lol
Ahh, makes sense. It tracks that Russ would be hard to pry open, even to someone he loves and has been in such close quarters with him for such a long time. (LOL Denver Airport. 👌🏽)
Yes, although reader knows pretty much everything about his backstory and his family. It was more that he was pretending it didn't bother or affect him, even though she could clearly see that it did until the dorment volcano became active again... 👀
It's so sweet to think Russ had a surrogate dad that actually treated him like a normal kid, teaching him how to throw a football, etc.
Yup, my heart couldn't take him being entirely alone for every holiday and birthday for over twenty years 😭 Totally makes sense too that he would "imprint" on reader's family and view them as his 🥹
Oh my GODD. They have a son together too?? What the hell happened between them? She left and took their son with her?
Well, we get into all of that in the next few parts... 😅
My heart is truly breaking for him, and now I need to know what the hell he did to make her actually leave him, even though they have two kids. 😭😭
Honestly, writing this scene wrecked me. He didn't even know if he had a daughter or second son like... 🤯😭 But I tried to show throughout that their life wasn't "normal." It was her way of trying to help him, so it was less about what he did than what he didn't do 😉
True to typical Wayne, this is an intricate cobweb of a story, Russell AND the reader are infinitely complex, and I'm very interested to see where you take this from here. 💜
Hahaha love that I'm getting that label now! Just wait till you read the Wayn'e Version meet-cute 😂😂🫶
Thank you so much, Alex! You always make me laugh so hard! I truly appreciate this (and you) 🤍🤍🤍
The Exit Strategy – Part 2
Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18, language, minor injuries, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, a reunion, more secrets and revelations 😉
Word Count: 6.3k
A/N: Guess, the cat's outta the bag! Couldn't reveal too much about the reader beforehand without ruining the surprise now, could I? 🤓 Cozy up in your favorite chair with eggnog. Hope you have some lovely holidays, guys ❤️
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List
Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission
If Russell hated one thing in this world, it was playing The Waiting Game. The thought of being helplessly stuck inside a car with his hands metaphorically tied behind his back nearly wrecked his sanity. Well, whatever was left of it, anyways.
Colter had a point. Russell knew he could be a little paranoid sometimes, but considering everything he’d seen and done in his life, who could honestly blame him? It was only natural to feel a certain level of paranoia in his particular line of work. It kept him on his toes and, therefore, alive.
But maybe it had nothing to do with the job as he had always told himself. It might have been just a family trait he had inherited. And, well, he hated that fact even more than The Waiting Game.
As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.
What normal people would see as a perfectly nice, faithful woman picking up mail from the post office, Russell saw as a dead-drop pick-up.
There was a construction crew about three hundred yards to his right that seemed to be on constant break by their lack of work ethic. They also took turns to watch the supermarket closely. Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.
And then, there was the cashier who handed you a flyer of some sort, which you accepted with a polite smile and stuffed in your purse. Live drop, Russell noted as he watched you walk out of the store hand in hand with your supposed husband.
It was all so abundantly clear to him, he almost couldn’t believe no one else could see it. It certainly worried him that Colter couldn’t.
What if…
What if he was in fact seeing things? Things that weren’t actually there. Ghosts of his past. No drops, live or dead. No secret surveillance in disguises. No fake husband – just a very real one.
Was that even legal? He figured it was under your new identity.
Russell shook the uncomfortable thought out of his mind and concentrated back on you. You stopped short by a row of shopping carts, exchanged a few words with your “husband”, and headed back inside. His little brother, of course, was hot on your tail, following you back in too.
That was when several alarm bells went off in Russell’s body. His head felt like the Liberty Bell on the Fourth of July. Experience told him: If it smelled like an ambush, it usually was.
Jumping into gear, Russell’s gaze snapped to your husband, who not only unloaded the groceries into the trunk of the car but also loaded a pistol and hid it underneath his sweater vest before heading toward the supermarket again.
Russell sprung into action rather quickly then, snatching his own semi-automatic from the glove compartment. Soon enough, he heard two familiar voices flowing out from a back alley behind the main building. There was no doubt in his mind that it was you and Colter.
As he rounded the corner, he had to stifle a laugh once he saw his little brother down on the ground, straddled by your legs. Russell had found himself in similar positions with you, but they had been mostly out of pleasure.
“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”
“Shaw.”
Russell watched as your hold on his brother swayed and shock claimed your expression.
“Hiya, sweetheart,” he greeted your eyes with a cheeky smile as warmth spread through his heart.
Fuck, he had missed you.
“Russell?!”
Your jaw had fully dislodged itself as you slowly got back onto your feet and let go of your prisoner. But the shock of seeing your ex here of all places didn’t last long till it made way for your anger.
“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!”
“I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans. He stretched his sore muscles briefly before glaring at his older brother, who only offered him an apologetic smile and a half-assed shrug of one shoulder.
“Did you tell him to follow me?” you asked and pointed an accusatory finger at his younger brother while still glaring daggers at Russell. The similarity between them suddenly struck you, and you cursed yourself for not putting the puzzle pieces together sooner. “What was the plan here, huh?”
“Oh, trust me, he had no plan,” Colter muttered sourly, still recovering from your attack.
Russell clicked his tongue and sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, he’s right. There wasn’t a plan. I just-… I had to see you. But once I did, well… here we are.”
Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.
You scoffed and shook your head. “You, of all people, should know better. You could’ve blown our cover. Months of work down the drain…”
“I think your cover’s still good,” Russell assured you with that same old lazy grin of his that was scarily charming and glanced at your partner. “Might wanna call off the cavalry, though.”
You shared a look with Tom, your partner during this mission.
“I’ll signal them. Clean up here,” he said, unamused, and disappeared back to the parking lot.
“Road crew in front of the store?” was all Russell asked. You confirmed it with a simple nod. Internally, he celebrated his little win. His instincts were still intact.
You exhaled a deep breath and threw your hands up. You had been so incredibly relaxed before that menace of a man waltzed back into your life – with a goddamn wrecking ball, no less. Now, the tension was crawling back into your shoulders.
“Russ, what the hell?”
Your question wasn’t filled with anger, however. You were just exhausted by today’s surprising turn of events. The life of a spy…
And probably the life with Russell, too.
“I know. I know, okay?” Russell held up two placating hands. Large hands. Warm. “Can we just talk? Somewhere… I don’t know.”
With some reservations, you still nodded. “There’s a church picnic at First Presbyterian tomorrow. It starts at one. We can talk there.”
There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.
“Church picnic?” Russell cocked a brow but was only met with your glare.
“Don’t mock. Be there,” you told him firmly and walked back inside the building. You still had to buy that damn milk. Covers were complicated to maintain – much like relationships.
Once you were out of sight, Russell let out a long sigh of relief, followed by a laugh of happiness. Step One was done. Only when the high of his meeting with you subsided, did he notice his brother’s exasperation.
Colter threw his hands in the air and stared at his sibling with incredulous eyes. “What the hell, Russell? What was that, man?”
“Right, yeah.” Russell bobbed his head calmly, smacking his lips. He knew he owed Colter an explanation at this stage of the mission.
“So, I’m guessing she’s not an old Army buddy of yours,” the younger Shaw started.
“No, not quite. She’s in the CIA,” Russell explained at last. He couldn’t help the grin. He was sure Colter would laugh about it eventually, too. Well, here was to hoping he would. “We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.”
Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.
“Romantic,” Colter scoffed with sarcasm lacing his voice. Honestly, a part of him was happy for Russell. Another part, though, was incredibly furious for obvious reasons. “But I’m sorry – you had me stalk a CIA operative? During, what I assume is, some elaborate undercover mission?”
“It’s actually not that elaborate,” Russell quipped with amusement. “You shoulda seen half the things I’ve seen her do, so…”
“Oh, hilarious!” Colter shook his head at his childish brother. “Are you nuts?!”
“I think we’ve already established that,” Russell chuckled.
“You know, if Reenie finds out about this, she’s gonna kill me,” Colter said, and Russell swore his brother seemed close to breaking into a sweat. “Oh, you think this is still funny, huh? Guess who she’s gonna kill right after? You.”
Russell rolled his eyes at the unnecessary theatrics. “She’s not gonna find out unless you tell her, brother.”
With pursed lips, Colter nodded in defeat. “Can’t say I like you a lot right now, Russell.”
His older brother only snorted a laugh in response. “Oh, c’mon!”
“You probably would find it less funny if you had been beaten up by a 5’4” woman,” Colter continued and pressed a hand to his ribcage, wincing. “Yeah, pretty sure she cracked a rib or two…”
“Don’t be a baby. Soldier up! You’re fine.” Russell patted his back roughly and inspected the swelling nose for good measure, causing Colter to groan in pain once more. “And by the way, pretty sure she’s only 5’3”.”
“What?! No! She’s at least… 5’4”, okay? Probably even 5’5”,” Colter argued, following Russell back to the truck.
Russell’s lips rose to a teasing smirk. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself whatever gets you to sleep at night, little brother.”
“I will, thank you,” Colter deadpanned and unlocked the car. “So, you’re gonna go to this church picnic thing tomorrow?”
“Oh, no, not just me. We are going to this church picnic thing tomorrow,” Russell said with a cheeky grin and slid into the passenger seat.
“Well, you know, technically, I’ve already… found her. This is usually where my job ends,” Colter said with a tight smile and popped the key into the ignition.
“Yeah, well, not this time,” Russell replied, chuckling. “This ain’t a Colter mission. This is a Russell mission.”
“Oh, I got that, yeah. Thank you,” Colter said with a laugh that made his bruised ribs ache. “You know, you could’ve at least told me she was in the CIA.”
“Yeah, probably. But this was more fun,” Russell grinned.
“Did you know this whole time this was a clandestine operation?”
Russell sheepishly twitched his shoulders. “Well, not when we first got to town, but once I saw her in that outfit, I had a pretty strong inkling. I’m tellin’ ya, even if she had changed her entire life and personality, there’s no way she would have accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and savior. I mean, maybe if she suffered a traumatic brain injury…” Russell mused and then grinned. “Or if she got abducted by aliens!”
“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head.
“It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.
“Uh-huh… Did you even need me for this?” Colter leaned back against his seat and quirked an eyebrow.
“Hell yeah!” Russell assured eagerly before changing course. He dialed his enthusiasm back a little. “Well, honestly, I just needed your op analyst. I could’ve used one of my guys, but then that would’ve flagged it with someone upstairs, so… But c’mon! This was fun, right?”
“I don’t know, Russell. I usually prefer my fun to look a little different,” Colter deadpanned.
“With Reenie?” Russell wagged his eyebrows. The huge smirk on his face spoke volumes.
“Would you stop?!”
“‘Sides, this is nice, isn’t it? Us… hanging out?” Russell’s sly grin then morphed into a much softer and genuine smile.
“I guess, yeah,” Colter reluctantly agreed and shrugged his shoulders. But the tiny smile on his face wasn’t missed by Russell.
“Alright, let’s get some fuel,” Russell announced and playfully slapped his brother’s chest. “I’m starving. We also need to find a place where we can park that Airstream of yours. Maybe get a nice fire going, drink a few…”
“What is this? A sleepover? Did you just invite yourself?” Colter really wasn’t used to family members dropping in like this, but he couldn’t deny that it felt sort of nice, too.
“Yeah, I am. I mean, you didn’t offer. Would’ve been the polite thing, you know, considering I saved your ass last time,” Russell retorted puckishly.
Colter exhaled a humorous breath, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Alright, okay… Consider yourself invited.”
“See? Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Russell’s nerves leaped through the roof as he set foot onto the church grounds. A part of him expected his boot soles to leave burn marks in their wake on the perfectly green and trimmed lawn, considering his extensive list of sins.
Families, children, couples, and the elderly had all gathered in front of the church. There were picnic tables, blankets, even balloons and a banner. His green eyes, however, landed on the giant buffet, his mouth already beginning to water.
That’s also where he spotted you, handing out cupcakes and slices of pie with a pious smile on your face. Your hair was stuck behind your ears, a headband keeping it tightly in place. Your dress looked the same, only the flower pattern varied, with a tight cardigan around your shoulders that hid any naked skin.
Deceptively innocent, Russell thought, causing his mouth to water for a different reason.
“You okay? You nervous?” Colter checked with a curiously raised brow.
“Nervous? Me? No.” Russell gave a quick shake of his head, but his eyes were transfixed on you. “Gotta admit. That outfit’s doing something to me, though.”
Colter patted his shoulder blade. “Yeah, might wanna keep it in your pants, Russ. Pretty sure you get kicked out for impure thoughts.”
Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, probably.”
The Shaw brothers then made their way over to your stand. Russell’s heart thumped louder with every new step he took towards you. And once he was so close he could smell your irresistible perfume, his smile only widened.
You, on the other hand, played your role flawlessly and pretended you didn’t know either brother in front of you. Your brows knit in question, but your devout smile remained the same.
“Gentlemen, how can I help you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” you said and subtly gestured your head to the pastor next to you.
Russell’s brow raised in understanding. He cleared his throat. “Oh, me and my brother just moved here. Looking for a new church. Heard this is the place,” he stated loud enough for the pastor to hear. “You know, we are very devout Christians. I mean, especially my brother here. If he doesn’t pray at least ten times a day, he gets real cranky.”
Colter threw him a look but decided to play along. “Oh, yeah, I just-… I hate that. Can’t pray enough, right?”
“Amen,” you said with all the sincerity you could muster. On the inside, however, you were bursting with laughter. Leave it to Russell to make you smile brighter than the sun.
“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place,” the pastor chimed in with a cheerful smile that spelled kumbaya all the way through as he shook the brothers’ hands. “I’m Pastor Jeff. Welcome to our little congregation, folks.”
“God can never have enough sheep, am I right?” Russell quipped and wondered how long you’d already been undercover, playing your dutiful role as a Christian housewife. Five sentences in, and he already was at his limit.
“That’s right!” The pastor grinned broadly. “Please help yourselves to our delicious buffet.”
“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.
“Oh, you have to try the pie,” the pastor eagerly suggested and put an arm around your shoulders. “Our Nora here is an excellent baker. Her desserts are a real trend in our community. It is downright sinful. But shhhh, don’t tell the big man upstairs.”
“Secret’s safe with me, pastor,” Russell grinned slyly before meeting your eyes for the briefest second. “Say, do you do marriage counseling too?”
The glare you shot him had enough power to kill him from afar. You might as well have ordered a missile strike on him.
“Oh, my, yes, of course!” the pastor eagerly replied, causing your frown to deepen. “Are you married? Having a little trouble with the missus?”
“You could say that,” Russell earnestly played along and propped up his hands on his hips. “Everything was going fine, you know? And then one morning, just whoosh, gone. No explanation, no letter, no anonymous call from a pay phone…”
“Wow…” The pastor was stunned and enthralled by Russell’s colorful storytelling at the same time. You weren’t, however.
“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you feigned your sympathies with tight lips and a fierce glare at your former lover. “But you know what they say, the Lord giveth and he taketh away…”
“You know, Nora here is right. Our Lord does work in mysterious ways,” the pastor chimed in agreement.
“Amen, Pastor Jeff,” you said, smiling contentiously. “Do you have any idea why your wife left?”
“Oh, I’m afraid she’s as mysterious as the Lord,” Russell replied.
Crossing your arms over your chest, you forced a tight smile. “I don’t mean to overstep, but it sounds like someone was having a little trouble with commitment.”
“It does,” Pastor Jeff agreed. “Why do you think that is?”
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Russell’s head bobbed, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks. He was definitely feeling a spotlight on him. Even Colter seemed to curiously lean in. Then, the oldest Shaw clicked his tongue. “Rough childhood.”
Amused, Colter scoffed under his breath behind him. “You could say that.”
“Oh no.” The pastor sent the brothers a pitying look and turned his attention to the younger Shaw. “And what do you do?”
“Oh, uh… Well, before I moved in with my brother here, I lived in a trailer and traveled all over the country.”
“Sounds… lonely,” Pastor Jeff stated worriedly.
“Yeah, this one is a big lone wolf. He has commitment issues too,” Russell replied, earning him a scolding look from his brother.
“Uh, I don’t think we need to overshare, Russ.” Colter gave an awkward smile, turning to you and Pastor Jeff. “He’s kidding. I don’t have commitment issues.”
“It’s a sin to lie, Colter,” Russ noted. His tone was serious, but the twinkle in his green eyes was impish.
“What happened to your face there?” The pastor cocked his head and inspected the younger Shaw’s injuries.
Oof, he looked rough. The skin under his eyes and bridge of his nose were swollen and bruised, ranging in color from blue, purple to black. A thin burgundy line also graced his throat. You had done quite a number on him.
You should kick Russell’s ass for setting you both up like this. Who would do this to their little brother?
“Uh, you know, moving boxes…” Colter stammered with a shift of his weight from one foot to the other, pursing his lips.
Russell was a better liar than him, you noted.
“Yup, walked straight into one of those wood planks,” Russell added, oozing just the right amount of charm and humor to wrap the pastor around his finger. “Tiny thing, honestly, but still got him good.”
Oh, he was so proud of that too, you could tell. He smirked right at you. Well, they were both terrible liars.
“Not that tiny. Big, big plank,” Colter corrected. Apparently, you had bruised his ego, too. “Lucky to be alive, really.”
Yeah, he really was.
“Well, speaking of taking things away, I still have to get the eggs from the chickens,” you said, segueing the conversation to an exit strategy. “Excuse me.”
“Oh, you have chickens here?” Russell enthusiastically slapped Colter’s arm. “Did you hear that? They have chickens.”
“Yeah, uh, very exciting,” Colter said, subtly clearing his throat.
“We’ve always wanted chickens,” Russell clarified for the pastor, joining you by your side as you rounded the table. It wasn’t true, though. The brothers actually had a chicken coop at the cabin when they were kids and hated it. The hens were noisy, the rooster was the worst, and it was always a mess to clean up. “I love those clucking little buggers. And now that we have a big backyard… Mind if I come along and check out your setup?”
“Not at all,” you replied with a friendly smile.
“Great. Be right back,” Russell told his brother, hurrying after you before he eloquently made a U-turn back to the stand and grabbed a plate of pie.
“Take your time,” Colter said through a pressed smile, although he wondered how long he’d be stuck here for with the pastor and your fake husband.
“Clear,” you said and held the creaking wooden door of the coop open for Russell to follow inside. As soon as it fell shut behind you two, you crossed your arms. “Okay, talk.”
“What? Here? Now?” With squinted eyes and a cocked brow, Russell looked around the small and dark space full of farm fowl, hay, and feathers.
You threw your arms up in exasperation. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. What’s wrong with this place?”
“Nothing,” Russell said timidly and swallowed. He scratched the back of his neck. “You know, I just imagined this conversation a thousand times in my head, and it never happened in a chicken coop on church grounds.”
“Adorable,” you commented unamused, your brow knitting even more.
“All I’m sayin’ is, this just takes some time gettin’ used to…”
“Get used to it faster.”
Russell sighed. Then you did.
You softened your stance, crossed arms falling freely to your sides. “I’ve missed you,” you said earnestly and gifted him a small smile, taking in his changed appearance for the first time in detail.
He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.
Now, clean-shaven, young, somewhat naive, and rule-following was replaced by a rebellious, midlife-crisis beard and the matching hair.
Ah, the t-shirt… Mötley Crüe. He found that thing eleven years ago at a thrift store in Arizona. It had a (bullet) hole on the left side of his lower back that you had patched – thrice. Once even with teething floss in a tent.
“How have you been?”
Russell’s head bobbed. He shrugged. “So-so.” Then he smiled. Soft and warm. The first few rays of sunshine on frozen winter skin. “I’ve missed you, too.” Then, the smile disappeared from his lips, replaced by contempt. “Got your divorce papers. Not signing them, by the way.”
“Good.” You smiled weakly. “I didn’t want you to sign them. I just sent them to get your attention.”
The relief that surged through Russell’s body was ineffable. For months, he thought he’d lost you – that you’d finally given up on him for good.
“How’s the new job working out?”
Russell’s lips drew a smirk, flirtatious charm glimmering in his forest green eyes. “What, you keeping tabs on me, sweetheart?”
You matched his expression. “Who do you think recommended you, huh?”
Russell stumped for a beat. His lips pursed, eyebrows drawing into a wondering v. “Well, they said someone did. Just didn’t think it was you.”
All this time, he’d believed you had crossed him out of your mind with a red pen as soon as you’d walked out the door that very morning.
“I told you. I’ll always look out for you,” you replied simply, a caring smile dancing on your lips. “So? Did it help? Are you any closer?”
“Yeah, guess so…” He paused for a moment, his gaze focused on the tips of his boots as he thought. “Not sure it was worth it, though. Actually, I’m fucking sure it wasn’t.”
You exhaled a long breath. You knew this day would come eventually. You knew he’d come back for you. Granted, you had expected him on your goddamn doorstep years ago, but he never showed. Sending divorce papers was a last resort in hopes he’d wake up then. That had been nine months ago.
“Why are you here, Russ?”
“Things have changed.”
Ah. That made things perfectly clear.
Lifting a brow, you crossed your arms again. “Is that why you brought your little brother along? As a show of good faith?”
“Kinda.”
“Poor Colter… How’s his nose?”
Russell wiped your sincere concerns away with a shrug. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Just a scratch.”
Just a scratch…
“It’s weird… seeing you two together,” you said. For more than fifteen years, you had wondered. A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.
That man could easily fill the Denver airport with his baggage.
“You look good,” you noted. You were trained to control your heartbeat, but he had always made your job harder. “Different.”
His fingers brushed his beard as if to emphasize the newness. “Yeah? You like it?”
“Well, uhm, I don’t hate it,” you said rather coyly. Did you want to give him a win? No. But if he stepped any closer, you would falter. Your cheeks blushed as the tip of your shoe drew circles in the sandy ground. Why did your ears suddenly feel so hot?
Russell smiled as heat crept to his cheeks as well. “Your new look is somethin’, too.”
“God, shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.
“Oh, I don’t think you’re allowed to take the Lord’s name in vain here,” Russell teased. “Don’t let good Pastor Jeff hear ya.”
You laughed, scoffing. “I hate that man.”
“Pastor Jeff? I can tell,” Russell chuckled in amusement and finally stuffed his face with the first bite of pie, chewing a mouthful as he spoke. “But c’mon, he ain’t half bad.”
“Really? You don’t wanna shoot yourself after spending five minutes with him? ‘Cause I do. And it’s been months for me,” you said. “You don’t know what that man does in his office.”
“You bugged his office?”
“And the confession booth. Two words: game changer,” you said, wide-eyed. Russell whistled lowly. You narrowed your eyes at the half-eaten plate in his hands and the pie crumbs in his beard. You raised a scolding brow. “Did you really have to bring the pie?”
“Do you even know me at all? Of course I did.” Russell then shoved the last bite into his mouth to prove his petulant point. “Did you actually bake this?”
In expectant offense, you stepped back a little, crossing your arms again. “Why?”
“‘Cause it’s good.”
“Do you even know me at all? What d’you think?”
“Thought so.” Russell gave a shrug of his shoulders. “The first bite of this didn’t give me immediate food poisoning.”
“Fuck you. I’m a great cook,” you huffed but couldn’t help the grin on your face. You had missed this – the bickering, the bantering, the fun. And Russell, the sly asshole, knew that, judging by his own smirk.
“There’s a lot of reasons why I love you, but your cooking skills ain’t one of ‘em, sweetheart,” he quipped.
“I’ll use you as shooting practice, Shaw,” you threatened playfully. Russell laughed, but it sounded more secretive than a laugh about a joke. “What?”
Russell’s eyes found yours. “Nothing. This is nice, right? We slid right back into it. Like the last three years never happened.”
“Russ…” You sighed, your heart hurting. For you, they happened.
“Just saying it was easy. That’s all,” he said with placating hands. “How’s the family? How’s your dad?”
That caused you to suck in a breath. You had wondered when he would finally dare to ask. You knew this was the real reason why he was here. “Dave finally married Jill last spring. It was a nice wedding. Florence, Italy. Got to wear a sun hat.”
“That’s good.” Russell smiled softly, although it stung that he wasn’t invited. He had always imagined he would be, once your brother popped the question to his longtime girlfriend. After all, Russell was the one who introduced the couple in the first place.
“They wanted to do it sooner, but because of the pandemic…”
“They shoulda done it ten years ago. I kept telling him to lock it down,” Russell quipped, the irony not entirely lost on him. He knew even if something was locked down, didn’t necessarily mean it would stay forever.
“You did,” you remembered with a fond smile. “They wanted you there,” you added, noticing his saddened expression. “It’s just-…”
“No, I know. Don’t worry about it,” Russell brushed it off with all the coolness he could muster at that moment.
“Russ…”
“I said it’s fine,” he repeated and forced another smile. “So, how’s the old man?”
Silently, you bit your lip and sent him a look that spoke volumes.
“Uh-oh. That bad, huh?”
“It’s the reason why I moved back here. To be closer… As close as I can be with this job. Figured it was best for everyone,” you explained. “In the beginning, he had a lot of good days, you know? Now they just all seem… bad.”
“Yeah… I’m sorry,” Russell replied, dumping his empty plate by the chickens. He stepped closer.
Uh-oh. Now, you were in trouble.
“I’m sorry, too.”
Russell’s brow jumped up. “What are you sorry for? It’s your dad.”
“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.”
“Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.
You snorted. “You could not,” you argued with a teasing smile. “You knew how to kill sweet little forest critters and turn your pee into drinking water. But you did not know how to throw a damn ball.”
“You’re never letting the pee thing go, are you?”
You shrugged. “It was a very memorable trip.”
Russell laughed at that. Then the melancholic sadness returned to his face. “How’s-, uhm, how’s Lewis?”
He’d made it through the list of your relatives, finishing with the most important one. And it stung so unbearably much it broke your heart for him. But in the end, you knew he’d done it to himself.
Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”
“School, huh?” Russell huffed a devastating chuckle, the tears brimming in his eyes as the lump in his throat only grew. “Shit…”
It was getting to him, you could see, and he hadn’t expected that it would. Knowing Russell, he probably figured he could push through the pain and be fine. But he had never really been fine since the day you met him – and he wasn’t this time either as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blink the tears away, and turned his back to you with a hand clasped over his mouth.
“Should I stop?”
It felt like you were torturing him with a cruel new method of some PsyOp. Even if you had cursed this man for the past three years, your heart refused to see him hurt.
But Russell shook his head, finding your eyes again. He offered you a weak smile. “No, uh, don’t. Just tell me something about him, okay? I’m fine. Please.”
Sighing, you nodded in acceptance. “When my dad was better, he and Dave would take him fishing a lot. He loved it. He’s in his ‘backyard adventures’ phase,” you said, giggling softly. “He’s catching frogs and releasing them in the house. Never imagined I’d wake up with an amphibian on my head. It’s been a delightful experience.”
Russell laughed, but it was feeble at best. “I can imagine…”
And I can’t imagine I missed it all, he thought self-punishingly. But the hard part still hadn’t come yet.
“And, uhm…” Russell wrung for words, taking a deep breath. “How’s the baby? Is it–”
“She,” you stated, watching him swallow upon your correction. “Her name’s Amelia. She turned two in April.”
“Huh, girl…” His heart beat faster, grew bigger, and painfully yearned. His feet trembled to get home, wherever that was, and see them, but he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t so easy, after all. “Guess I was right…” he said with a sad smile.
You had been sure you’d have another boy. However, Russell had bet you ten meatball subs – your craving at the time – that it wasn’t.
“What happened to Ann? Thought that’s the name we picked,” Russell teased in hopes of lightening the mood.
“Yeah, well, if you wanted a say, maybe you should’ve been there…” you retorted.
Russell should’ve known winning you over wouldn’t be as simple as spelling the ABC.
“You’re the one who left,” Russell muttered finger-pointing-ly under his breath.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know why,” you bit glaringly.
Russell swallowed lightly, nodding. “You’re right. I do. I’m sorry.” Pausing, his eyes glanced around the coop before he gestured with a hand at your outfit, looking you up and down. “So, speaking of the kids, what’s going on here? Thought you were done with the deep-covers,” he changed the subject with a clear of his throat.
He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.
“I was. Had a desk job. Kinda…” A desk job in the CIA still never really was a desk job. “I was station chief in Paris.”
“Paris, huh? Fancy,” Russell said, but the joke didn’t reach the crinkles around his eyes.
“It’s the job I took after I left. We only moved back to the States in the beginning of the year,” you explained. “The kids loved it there, though. Lewis still gets a craving for crêpes every once in a while.”
Russell chuckled, even though every story added another bruise to his heart.
“Anyways, I got a job at Langley. Desk. Bought a house not too far from here, actually. It’s nice. Got a big backyard. Even bigger oak tree,” you told him with a smile. “Lewis wants me to build him a treehouse, but I’m not sure I can swing it.”
“I could help,” Russell offered, trying to keep his eagerness at bay when truly all he wanted was to race there and build the damn thing now. “I mean, if I can come by sometime…”
Your heart sank. “You can always come home. You always could, Russ.”
Home.
That four-letter word filled him with so much warmth and longing it brought back the tears in his eyes.
“So, uhm, why are you here and not there then?” This time, he switched the topic because he would’ve kissed you if he hadn’t. “You running a sting on the pastor or…?”
“One of his sheep.”
“Ah.” Russell nodded. “Need any help?”
“From you and Colter?”
“Yeah.”
“No, thank you.”
“Oh, c’mon, just lemme help. The faster you get this done and over with, the sooner you can stop clutching your fake pearls and get home to the kids,” Russell reasoned.
You sighed, knowing he was partially right. You did hate your disguise as much as you hated the annoyingly nosy pastor. Moreover, you missed your children a fucking lot. It had already been three months. Fall was coming soon, and you had promised your son you’d be home by his first day of school.
“C’mon, how did they lure you back in, huh? Who’s the naughty little sheep you’re working?”
“Can’t talk about this here,” you told him, automatically lowering your voice. It was hard to remember who you were right now, when what you were used to be was standing right in front of you.
Russell quirked a brow. “Did you bug the coop, too?”
“No, the pastor’s scared of the chickens, which is why I didn’t bother. But you never know if someone else isn’t listening. We’ve already shared too much. We shouldn’t do this here,” you insisted, and Russell nodded in agreement. He knew the dangers as well as you did.
“Then where?”
You exhaled a deep breath and thought for a moment. You wanted to see him again. You knew he didn’t just come find you to catch up and then leave again.
“Come by the house tonight. Make it look natural. I’ll invite you guys to dinner as a sort of friendly welcome wagon to the neighborhood. The pastor is gonna buy it in a heartbeat. Just give me a good reason to invite you over.”
Russell nodded in understanding. “Alright.”
Part 3: This Is a Heart-To-Heart – SOON 💚
Welp, seems like Russell omitted having a wife and two kids... 🙈😂
I'll post the next part in the beginning of the new year or straight after Polaris has finished. We'll see ☺️
Enjoy the rest of your holidays, loves! Can't wait to read your comments on this one 😉🤍
TAGS:
Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad
@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways
@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith
@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02
@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report
@deansimpalababy
82 notes
·
View notes
Note
this might be weirdly specific but would you be able to write a fic where Kate Bishop is (fem)reader's best friend and she comforts reader after a breakup and it leads to romance? Could be fluff or smut, idrc
Take Your Time
Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader (Platonic to Romance)
Summary: After dealing with a breakup, your best friend is here to help you get over you ex anyway she can.
Angst, Fluff, Comfort
Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know | 1.4K
AC: I missed writing for Kate so much!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy x
It had been weeks since you and your ex-girlfriend broke up, but the heartache still lingered. You took some time for yourself trying to enjoy your hobbies once again, trying to not let the little things remind you of a love you once had. It wasn’t like you both ended on bad terms, but it still didn’t ease the feeling of your heart being broken into a million tiny pieces.
The night was young, and the city of New York was loud and vibrant with its night life. Even with the light rain that trickled over the city, that didn’t stop the city from becoming a city of magic on a Friday night. While everybody was making it clear they were glad it was Friday, chit chatter from the street floated its way into your apartment by the open window of your bedroom, you were lying on the sofa with another case of red, puffy eyes.
The throw pillow had a damp spot from your afternoon tears as trashy romantic movies played on the television, you knew it wasn’t going to help you heal but something drove you to just spend the afternoon binge watching the classics. Your phone would light up every now and then only to be ignored, your eyes not even moving from the television to see the who was trying to contact you.
Your afternoon of self-torture was cut short when your best friend, Kate, let herself into your apartment. “Alright, let’s turn this crap off” she said, reaching for the television's remote and turning the screen black.
“Kate! I was watching that” you groaned, slowly forcing yourself to sit up.
“I know but” she paused, dropping her backpack to your feet and taking a seat next to you, making herself comfortable, “I think you forget that having friends around you in a time like this helps. So, here I am and in that bag is plenty of snacks, mostly your favourite ones” she continued with a soft smile.
You sighed lightly, defeated by your friends kindness, “I guess you’re right” you said before reaching for her backpack. “Of course I am, you know who I am, right?” Kate joked, making you laugh for the first time in what felt like a very long time. “So, you’ve had a break from the world and now you’ve locked yourself away in this apartment. It’s time to have some fun!” She added.
“Honestly, I’m not really up for… um, fun right now” you replied, your eyes stinging with every blink.
“Fine,” she said dramatically, “then we’ll just sit here until you realize how amazing you are and how ridiculously terrible your ex was” Kate teasingly smiled.
A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, and Kate seized the opportunity as she nudged you with her elbow. “See? I knew I could get you to laugh more than once” she said proudly as you playfully rolled your eyes at your friend before opening up a bag of your favorite potato chips. “Okay, fine, you can stay but under one condition” you replied before munching on a few chips.
“Go on?” Kate questioned.
“We don’t talk about her, like ever” you muttered, your mouth still somewhat full. Kate let out a chuckle, “fine by me, I came over here to watch a bulk load of action and comedy movies, eat some pizza and tell you about this thing Clint did on a mission last week!” Your friend smirked as she reached for the television remote again.
----
As the night went into the early hours of the morning, losing complete track of time as you watched movie after movie with your best friend. Your coffee table littered with rubbish of pizza boxes, empty soda cans and juice boxes, empty bowls of melted leftover sundaes, chop sticks along with the small take-out boxes from the Thai restaurant a few blocks over, it was truly a mess.
You couldn’t believe that you allowed yourself to even for a moment to forget just how much fun you always had with Kate. Each movie you guys watched; she’d have you laughing to the point of tears by her like banter with the different characters. With both your stomachs full, the night life of New York City slowly fades from the chit chatter of pedestrians on the street to loud truck horns and trains on the train line.
Not only did the city start to calm down but so did your apartment. Tiredness would soon start to hit you, reminding you just how late in the night it was. Gently, you rested your head on Kate’s shoulder, “thank you for making my day” you said softly, your eyes focused on the movie playing on the television. Kate smiled softly to herself, ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat at your actions.
“You’re welcome” she replied, “I know break ups suck but you can’t wallow in it forever” she added.
“I know, I guess…I guess I just hated not knowing what to do. You always hear stories of people growing apart, but I never thought I would relate to that” you admitted, sighing heavily to yourself.
“You deserve so much better” Kate spoke softly, “I mean, who breaks up with somebody over text? To me, that kinda says they didn’t care too much. You deserve somebody who loves you for you, who’s stomach gets all twisted and full of butterflies whenever you walk into the room, you deserve somebody who’s face feels warm when you la-“Kate stopped herself mid-sentence abruptly and quickly reached for her drink. Her sudden shift made you frown ever so slightly.
“Kate?” You said calmly, “are you okay?” You asked.
Kate turned to you and smiled softly, “I’m good, I guess I just missed hanging out with you” she replied, feeling her stomach turn on her. Her eyes quickly moved back to the television, leaving you to watch her become slightly nervous.
Gently, you placed a hang on top of her knee, allowing yourself to sit up right again. “Kate, come on, what’s going on?” You asked her. She took a sip of her soda to give herself that short extra seconds to panic on the inside before she nervously swallowed the mouthful of soda and looking at you once again, this time struggling to keep eye contact.
“Please don’t freak out, I know things at too soon and look at me go, good one Kate! About to mess things up!” She rolled her eyes at her own frustration, “I never really liked you being with her becau-“ she paused once again as she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but care and patience as you gave her the time she needed to gather her words. “because I think you’re incredible and they never deserved you in the first place….and I think if anybody is going to spoil you and love you for who you are….I want it to be me” she continued. Her eyes dropped once again; this time worried for any form of rejection.
Carefully you cupped her face with one hand, wanting her to look at you. She looked at you like a lost puppy who’d thought they had done something wrong. Her eyes making you smile softly at her as you crushed a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, “you didn’t mess anything up Katie” you started, “I’ve always been in awe of you but in all honesty, I didn’t think you would ever look at me more than just a friend” you added, making Kate smile softly at you.
“Would it be awful of me to say that I’m so glad a broken heart pushed a confession out of me?” The archer asked nervously. Her words made you chuckle, “I’m starting to think of it more a of a bless of some kind. Maybe it this was exactly how things were supposed to go” you replied, your eyes sparkled from the glow from the television giving Kate another reason to admire your beauty without the worry of being caught.
Kate took a deep breath, “so, what now?” She asked.
“We take our time, enjoy this new chapter... and see where it leads us,” you replied, “if that is something you’d be interest in of course” you quickly added, your own fear of rejection suddenly creeping in. Kate gently took a hold of your hand, removing it from her cheek “I’d like that, one moment at a time” she spoke softly. “Maybe next week I could take you out on an actual date?” Kate asked, feeling the warmth of your comfort embracing her as you gave her a soft nod, “it’s a date, Katie” you said before placing a kiss on her warm cheek.
Taglist: @noturlondonboy | @deathbylesbianwitches | @yelenaslyubov | @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow | @boredandneedfanfics | @red1culous | @jooseboxxe |
If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.
#yelenasdiary asks#anon#fanfiction#marvel#Kate bishop#Kate Bishop x reader#Kate Bishop x you#hailee steinfeld
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
9 books to read in 2025 (sweet + spicy)
Thank you SO much to @eyra for tagging me! I love an excuse to talk about books.
I had SO much fun reading these books I'm excited to share them, so pretty please let me know if you read any of them? I might put anon asks back on because I'm so eager to discuss them. Also, all of these books have HEAs.
Also, I'm working on related marauders lists for almost all of these, so stay tuned!
🌶️ = the more peppers the spicier it is
🍭 = the more lollipops the sweeter it is
Captive Prince: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
This series is one that ifykyk. It's a dark, dramatic, sexy mlm series set in a pseudo historic age and WOW. If it was a fic it'd come with tons of warnings and tags, but there's also an underlying softness between the main characters. Lots of angst and drama and characters you can't help root for. DEFINITELY an 18+ rec so please proceed accordingly.
Johann: Vampire Mates: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭
I already rec'd one of the books in this series here, but this one is tied for my favorite. A modern soulmate/vampire au that's got humor, the CUTEST cinnamon roll who's inexperienced (and hundreds of years old), a russian mobster, and just enough angst to make me you ache.
Boystown Heartbreakers: 🌶️🌶️ 🍭🍭🍭
If you're a wolfstar fan, then you'll absolutely adore this friends-to-lovers modern story about a hairstylist who is so worried about dating his DROP DEAD GORGEOUS best friend. All the internal turmoil paired with a book boyfriend you'll absolutely love, and lines that actually had me laughing out loud makes this one of my top reads for the year.
The Charm Offensive: 🌶️🌶️ 🍭🍭🍭
This one totally surprised me with how well it dealth with mental health issues in the middle of a VERY charming story about falling in love with someone (when it's literally your job to help them fall in love with someone else). A bi-awakening and oblivious pining gem. If you want more fics that feature a reality show check out this rec list.
Myles Below Freezing: 🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭
Okay can someone alert the Hazelnoot server? Because this one feels like a cross between Solntse and Sweater Weather. Myles (a cinnamon roll, nerdy Remus IMO) has to solve a murder mystery at the South Pole while trying not to fall for the sweetheart Russian Alexei. The banter is incredible and honestly my friends and I need a second book about the lesbians in it. Forced proximity, oblivious DATING, anxiety rep, action and chase scenes, cuddling, and locked-in together all in one.
Sapphire Sunset: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🍭🍭🍭
If you don't know Chris Rice, he's the gay son of Anne Rice (author of Interview With A Vampire) and thank god he's followed in her footsteps because his romance books are SO good and intense and yet fluffy? It's a ton of drama about an ex-marine and a hotel heir and a family scandal for the books. Feels delightfully like an age-gap modern Drarry book.
Lightning Born: 🌶️ 🍭
A friend recommended me this Frankenstein mlm retelling, and I was like "ew, no". However, I was completely surprised by how much heart it had, and how much it reminded me of R/S. Amnesia (due to ya know, dying), forbidden love, some serious angst, and thankfully a HEA that includes lesbians getting to live out in the tropics.
Honey Girl: 🌶️🌶️ 🍭🍭🍭
This is the only book on the list with wlw as the main pairing and by god, it's beautiful. The writing style gripped me on the first page and I've been recommending it to everyone since I've read it. Imagine waking up in a hotel room in Vegas, by yourself, with a wedding band on your finger and a note. The whole book feels like an intimate love letter and it should absolutely be on your TBR.
On Writing
No spice or sweetness in this non-fiction book, because it's a book by Stephen King on writing. Whenever I talk to anyone who's struggling with their craft I always recommend this book. It's short, to the point, and will leave you feeling much more confident in your abilities while helping you improve your writing. 10/10.
⭐
Okay well I hope you enjoy these recs! I've turned on anon asks so please share your thoughts or your own recs as I'm always looking for new books and fics to read. (We'll just ignore how long the TBR list is already...)
Tagging: @thedrarrylibrarian @wolfstarwarehouse @wolfstarmicrofic @pancakehouse @imsiriuslyreading @lavenderhaze @rainbowrowell @gayliketheancients @brandileigh2003 @mrtellmeafckingsecret @imjusthereforwolfstar And ANYONE ELSE who also love books
#booklr#books and reading#books#currently reading#book review#reading#yes! you can reblog with your own recs!#gay fiction is great in ALL ITS FORMS#but please be nice in the anon asks : (
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
MARINES AS GUARDIAN ANGELS!
WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD
NOTES: this was a really random idea that’s been sitting in drafts for too long. someone please write more for the marines 💔
AOKIJI/KUZAN
As your guardian angel, Aokiji takes a chill approach—literally and figuratively.
Picture him lounging in an oversized beanbag cloud, sipping iced coffee (because hot coffee is just too much work) while keeping one lazy eye on you. He’s the kind of guardian angel who firmly believes in your freedom to live your life, make your choices, and occasionally trip over them like a newborn giraffe learning to walk.
“Growth, y'know?” he’d say with a shrug, ice cubes clinking in his drink. He's not hovering over you with a checklist of rules—he’s more like a life coach who doesn’t believe in micromanaging.
Aokiji's presence is undeniably calming, like a cool breeze on a sweltering day or the sound of rain when you're wrapped in a blanket. You won’t always see him stepping in, but that’s part of his method.
Subtle nudges? Oh, he’s got those in spades. You might feel an inexplicable urge to turn left instead of right, or decide to call it quits on a bad idea at the last second. That’s Aokiji for you. He’s like the universe’s “Are you sure about that?” pop-up notification—but without the nagging.
Now, don’t get it twisted: Aokiji isn’t lazy, he’s strategically hands-off. Why? Because he wants you to learn how to fend for yourself. “It’s your life, not mine,” he’d remind you, probably lying on a cloud hammock and tossing snowballs into the abyss for fun.
He genuinely believes in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. He figures that if he’s always there holding your hand, you’ll never learn to walk on your own. “And besides,” he might add with a yawn, “you’d just get annoyed with me after a while.”
But let’s talk about when you mess up. You know those moments when you think, This is genius, but it turns out to be a disaster? Aokiji lets you go through with it—not because he enjoys watching you flail okay, maybe a little, but because he knows mistakes are part of the process. He might even be sitting there like, “Hmm, this’ll be a good lesson. Painful, sure, but memorable.”
Of course, he’s got limits. If your grand oopsie is about to land you in the ICU or worse, you’ll suddenly find yourself narrowly avoiding disaster, courtesy of a well-timed intervention. He’s not heartless, after all. “Eh, can’t let you die; that’d make me look bad,” he’d say with his trademark deadpan delivery.
The real humor here is in how he communicates with you. Instead of some grand angelic vision, you might get a sudden brain freeze while debating a bad idea. Or maybe a random bird drops an icicle near your feet, and you’re like, “What the heck?!”
Meanwhile, Aokiji’s up there smirking, muttering, “Message received, I hope.” He’s not about to hold neon signs that scream DON’T DO IT, but he’ll definitely leave breadcrumbs for you to figure things out.
Aokiji, as your guardian angel, is the embodiment of patience—like, Buddha-level patience, but with way more chill and significantly less sitting under trees. He doesn’t push, prod, or poke.
Instead, he’s the guy who casually tosses a single, offhand comment into the mix that leaves you spiraling into an existential crisis. You’ll find yourself staring into the distance, thinking, Wait… was that… wisdom? And it always is.
The kicker? He does it so rarely that every time he decides to share something meaningful, it’s like being hit by a truck made of profound truths. You walk away stunned, muttering, “Wow, okay, Mr. Cool Nonchalant Guardian Angel. Didn’t know I signed up for a TED Talk today.”
But those nuggets of wisdom? Oh, they stick. Some lodge themselves in your brain permanently, popping up at random moments years later, leaving you to wonder how this laid-back angel became a cornerstone of your moral philosophy. You’re not even mad about it. If anything, you’re a little awestruck. He’s like the personification of “quiet cool,” and every time he speaks, it feels like hearing the world’s calmest mic drop.
Aokiji’s ability to understand human emotions is almost spooky. He doesn’t just get you—he gets you.
You could be a sobbing mess of self-doubt and regret, and there he is, just vibing, no judgment in sight. “Yeah, you screwed up,” he’d say, leaning back like it’s no big deal. “But who hasn’t? That’s kind of the whole point of being human.” And somehow, those simple words are exactly what you needed to hear. If it were physically possible, he’d pat you on the back, but instead, you get a breeze, a faint chill, and a casual remark like, “Relax, kid. You’re doing fine. Maybe take a chill pill while you’re at it.”
He’s the angel you instinctively turn to during your worst emotional slumps, partly because he’s so good at making you feel better, and partly because you know he’ll listen without so much as raising an eyebrow.
He doesn’t lecture or overwhelm you with advice; instead, he offers thoughtful insights that make you stop, think, and—more often than not—reassess everything you thought you knew. His words aren’t just comforting; they’re life-altering. You might find yourself walking away with a fresh perspective on your struggles, life in general, and the universe itself.
But here’s the kicker: Just when you’re about to thank him for being the coolest, most insightful guardian angel in existence, he’s gone.
Poof.
Out of sight.
You’ll look around, confused, only to realize he’s off napping somewhere, snoring like a chainsaw. He’s like that friend who gives you the world’s best advice and then immediately acts like it was no big deal. Honestly, you’re starting to think he does it on purpose—drops some wisdom, lets you stew on it, and then ghosts like he’s too cool for gratitude.
Still, you can’t help but admire the guy. Aokiji is the guardian angel you didn’t know you needed, with a knack for making you feel seen, understood, and, weirdly enough, okay with all the messy bits of life. Sure, he’s napping more often than not, but when he’s there? Oh, he delivers.
Aokiji is the kind of guardian angel who sees life not as a perfectly arranged puzzle but as a beautiful, chaotic mess—and he wants you to see it that way too. He encourages you to embrace the imperfections, those little unexpected quirks that make life worth living.
Spill coffee on your shirt during a meeting? He’d probably shrug and mutter, “Eh, you’ve got character now.” Trip over your own feet in public? “Style it out,” he’d say in your mind. If you’re too hard on yourself, he’s right there, reminding you to ease up. “Come on, kid, the world’s already tough enough. You don’t need to pile on yourself too.” His voice in your head is like a soothing balm for your overworked inner critic.
When it comes to guiding you, Aokiji isn’t about hand-holding or spoon-feeding. He’s more like the cool uncle who asks the kind of questions that leave you wondering, Wait, was that advice, or was he just messing with me?
He nudges, hints, and lets you figure it out. Trusting your instincts is something he wants you to master, and he’s there to give you the confidence to do it. But don’t expect a detailed PowerPoint presentation on what to do—this is Aokiji, not a corporate retreat.
Now, dangerous situations? That’s where Aokiji gets serious. He doesn’t mess around when someone—or something—threatens his human. If harm is coming your way, he steps in, ice-cold resolve and all, to make sure you’re safe.
He’s got a rule: if you mess up and learn the hard way, fine. That’s growth. But harm coming from another person? Absolutely not. He’s not about to let you get hurt on his watch. Whether it’s de-escalating a heated argument, keeping you out of physical danger, or just freezing the bad vibes in their tracks, Aokiji ensures you walk away unharmed, emotionally and physically intact. You don’t even realize how much he does for you half the time because, well, he’s subtle like that.
But here’s the best part—Aokiji’s big brother energy. Later that night, when the adrenaline has worn off, and you’re snuggled under your blanket, ready to doze off, he might quietly check in.
Maybe he descends from wherever angels chill out and, with his usual laid-back demeanor, murmurs, “You okay, kid?” And there it is again—that kid nickname. It’s not condescending, not in the least. It’s warm, protective, and a little teasing, like he’s the big brother you didn’t know you needed.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget he’s technically an angel and not just your overchill sibling figure. He calls you “kid” so often, you half expect him to ruffle your hair one day.
Aokiji isn’t flashy or overbearing; he’s just there, in the best way possible—steady, reliable, and cool as ice. You feel safe knowing that, whether it’s finding beauty in life’s chaos or keeping you safe from harm, he’s always got your back.
KIZARU/BORSALINO
Kizaru’s style as your guardian angel is as perplexing as it is entertaining. He’s a walking enigma wrapped in golden light, delivering cryptic remarks that leave you scratching your head more often than not.
His approach? A strange mix of lighthearted teasing, unpredictable antics, and that signature laid-back demeanor that somehow manages to both calm and confuse you at the same time.
Imagine this: you’re stressing over a big decision, and suddenly, out of nowhere, Kizaru pops in with his usual drawl, “Oooh, what’s the rush? Doesn’t seem that urgent to me.” You turn to him, shooting him the most baffled “what?” look in existence, only to find him lazily smirking like he just walked off a beach. His expression clearly says, What? What?—and now you’re even more confused.
Naturally, you’re like, “What did you mean by tha—” but before you can finish, he casually snaps his fingers, and suddenly your coffee spills... somehow forming a perfect replica of a smiley face on the table.
You’re left staring at the mess, dumbfounded, as Kizaru stretches, mutters, “Guess that’s your sign,” and vanishes into thin air, leaving you no closer to answers but definitely distracted enough to forget what you were worrying about.
When it comes to intervention, Kizaru operates on a whole other wavelength. He’s not going to swoop down dramatically to save you from danger—that’s too ordinary for him. No, his methods are indirect and borderline bizarre.
Maybe he makes your phone randomly restart, delaying you just enough to avoid crossing paths with a reckless driver. Or perhaps your shoe suddenly comes untied, forcing you to stop and miss stepping into a bad situation.
It all seems coincidental, but then, just as you’re shaking your head at your “bad luck,” you catch the faintest sound, like a whisper carried on the breeze: “Oooh, close one.” It’s so distant, so ridiculously faint, that you almost convince yourself you imagined it. Almost.
Kizaru’s interventions always leave you wondering. Is he deliberately cryptic for fun, or is there a method to his madness? Either way, his unpredictable nature means you never know exactly what to expect.
One day, he might save you with the equivalent of a cosmic prank; the next, he’ll throw you a curveball disguised as the world’s most nonsensical advice. But that’s just Kizaru for you—never straightforward, always keeping you on your toes, and somehow managing to make you laugh in the middle of chaos.
Despite his laid-back attitude, Kizaru has an almost intimidating depth of knowledge and experience. He’s been around the cosmic block a few times, but you’d never know it by the way he casually tosses advice your way—if you can even call it advice. His pearls of wisdom tend to come wrapped in riddles and cryptic one-liners that make you feel like you’re playing some celestial guessing game.
You’ll stand there, trying not to pull your hair out, and blurt, “Can you just give me a normal answer for once?!” But no, not Kizaru. Instead, he’ll give you that trademark smirk, shrug in slow motion, and murmur something like, “Mmm… why do today what can wait until tomorrow?”
Then he vanishes, leaving you with nothing but your rising blood pressure and the gnawing suspicion that his nonsense will somehow make sense later. Spoiler alert: it does. And when it finally clicks, you’re equal parts impressed and annoyed because, of course, he knew what he was talking about all along.
But let’s not mistake his nonchalance for indifference. Beneath that carefree exterior, Borsalino is fiercely loyal to you. He might act like he’s just here for the vibes, but the truth is, he’s always keeping a close eye on you. His interventions are so seamless, so bizarrely timed, that they feel almost miraculous.
Picture this: you’re seconds away from stepping into a complete disaster, and suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear his voice drawl, “Ooooh… nice try, but no.” Before you can even process what’s happening, the threat is neutralized in the most inexplicable way.
One time, you’re about to walk into a room that’s about to collapse, and bam—the door jams before you can enter. You stand there, frustrated, yanking at the handle like it’s some kind of cosmic joke.
Later, when you realize what you narrowly avoided, you hear the faint echo of his chuckle. “Bet you’re glad you didn’t get in,” he’d say, probably lounging on a cloud, sunglasses slightly askew.
And his methods? Completely unconventional, borderline ridiculous, and yet undeniably effective. He doesn’t fight danger head-on. Instead, he works smarter, not harder, defusing situations in ways that leave you standing there, blinking, like, *Wait, what just happened?* Did the danger really disappear, or did Kizaru just bend the laws of reality around you for fun? Probably both.
Kizaru is the wildcard of the guardian angel trio, and oh boy, does he embrace the role with gusto. Unpredictable, occasionally maddening, and always one step ahead, he keeps you on your toes like it’s his celestial hobby.
His favorite pastime? Teasing you into oblivion. Whether it’s a cheeky remark about your life choices or a cryptic observation that leaves you spiraling in self-reflection, he somehow manages to fluster and enlighten you in the same breath. You’ll glare at him, cheeks puffed in frustration, and he’ll just raise an eyebrow, his smirk practically saying, “Did I say something wrong? Noooo… I don’t think so."
When life has you wound tighter than a violin string, Kizaru steps in with his patented chaotic chill energy to shake things up. He’s the angel equivalent of a “live a little” poster, casually reminding you to loosen up and stop sweating the small stuff.
Overthinking something? He might “accidentally” cause your phone to die mid-rant, leaving you forced to sit with your thoughts and, begrudgingly, chill out. Spilling your coffee? Misplacing your keys? Yeah, that’s probably him too. But hey, it’s harmless enough—just enough chaos to nudge you into realizing that life doesn’t always have to be taken so seriously.
His humor is his greatest weapon against your stress. Say you’re in the middle of a meltdown over tomorrow’s presentation; he’ll saunter in, leisurely as ever, and go, “Oooh… stressing already? You didn’t even mess up yet! Guess you like to start early, huh?”
Cue your annoyed groan as he lounges somewhere nearby, maybe filing his nails or inspecting his sunglasses. His nonchalant attitude can be infuriating, but deep down, you know he’s got a point.
And Kizaru isn’t just messing around—he’s strategic about his nonsense. He knows when to lighten the mood and when to drop a line that actually sticks with you. Sure, he can be playful, but his ultimate goal is to remind you that life is meant to be lived, not just stressed over.
Tomorrows’ worries? That’s for tomorrow. Today’s? Eh, deal with them and move on. He’s not about to let his adorable, flustered little human keel over from worry. "Can’t have you overthinking yourself to an early grave," he’d joke, smirking as you roll your eyes.
AKAINU/SAKAZUKI
Oh boy, where do we even begin with Akainu?
Strap in, because this guy takes the concept of “guardian angel” to a whole new level. You thought guardian angels were supposed to be all soft and comforting? Not Akainu. Nope. He’s not here to coddle you; he’s here to run your life like a military operation. Imagine having a drill sergeant and a guardian angel rolled into one, and you’ll start to get the picture.
Akainu takes his role very seriously. Like, obsessively so. His whole vibe screams, I will protect you at all costs, even if it’s from yourself, and you will thank me later.
And yeah, you do feel safe with him around, but let’s be real—it’s hard to relax when you’ve got someone barking orders about how to “make better life choices” while glaring at your empty water bottle like hydration is a personal affront. "Drink more water. NOW. How are you supposed to survive without proper hydration?"
He’s firm, he’s direct, and he does not mess around. If you so much as think about doing something remotely risky, Akainu is there, arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed in the most intimidating dad-face imaginable. “What are you doing? Did you think that through? No? Then don’t do it.” And if you try to argue? Forget it. “I’m your guardian angel, not your yes-man. Sit down.”
Anything he sees as a threat—bad friends, bad habits, bad decisions—gets obliterated faster than you can say, “But Akainu, wait—” Nope, no waiting. He’s already neutralized the problem, metaphorically or maybe literally incinerated it, and is giving you the look. You know the one. The look that says, “This wouldn’t have happened if you listened to me the first time."
And let’s talk about how thorough he is when it comes to your safety. During moments of crisis, Akainu’s got the whole situation handled before you even realize there’s a crisis.
Someone’s being aggressive toward you? They’re suddenly very apologetic. Demonic entity lurking around? They take one look at Akainu and nopenopeNOPE their way out of existence. Seriously, demons probably swap horror stories about him around their little demon campfires. “Yeah, I tried to mess with one of his humans once. Never again. The guy’s a walking no-fly zone."
His presence is like a massive, unyielding shield—a big, lava-hot wall of “try it, I dare you” energy. It’s comforting in a Wow, I’m invincible with this guy around kind of way, but also mildly terrifying because Akainu does not do half-measures. He’s all in, all the time.
Despite all his drill-sergeant-meets-volcano-dad intensity, Akainu has a surprising amount of faith in you. Shocking, right? He genuinely believes in teaching you resilience and strength. Sure, he’s the guy who will body-check a demon into another dimension if they even look at you funny, but he also knows that shielding you from every challenge isn’t going to help you grow.
So he lets you struggle a little—not in a cruel way, but just enough for you to toughen up and figure things out. But don’t worry, he’s got an internal alarm that goes off the second things get too real. Stakes too high? He’s there faster than you can say, “Wait, is this lava?”
Here’s the thing about Akainu: he values discipline like it’s a currency, and he really wants you to learn how to take care of yourself. But—big “but” here—he also respects your autonomy.
If you don’t want to listen to him? Fine. That’s on you. Just don’t expect him to take it lightly when your bad decision inevitably explodes in your face. “Oh, so this is what happens when you ignore my advice? Huh. Interesting. Didn’t see that coming. Except I did. I told you it would happen. Repeatedly.”
Even if you do ignore him, curse at him, or (heaven forbid) give him attitude, Akainu isn’t going anywhere. Sure, he might look like he’s about to erupt into a full-on volcanic tantrum, his metaphorical head steaming like an active geyser, but here’s the kicker: he’ll still protect you. Because you’re his human, and you’re stuck with him whether you like it or not.
And, yeah, he’ll scold you afterward. Oh boy, will he scold you. His lectures are legendary—part life lesson, part motivational speech, part “how do you not already know this?!” But underneath the frustration and the stern tone, you can tell it all comes from a place of genuine care.
His blunt, sometimes harsh advice might feel like a slap in the face (or a splash of molten lava), but it’s always honest, always unfiltered, and always rooted in his desire to see you thrive.
Akainu keeps a close, very close watch over your life. You think you’re sneaky? Think again. He’s analyzing every decision you make like a CIA agent reviewing classified files. If there’s even a hint of danger, he’s already two steps ahead, ready to intervene. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything, ever.
You’re not going to get soft reassurances or “everything will magically work out” vibes from him. Instead, you get the no-nonsense truth, served with a side of tough love and a lot of crossed arms.
If you’re reckless, self-destructive, or just plain dumb about your decisions, Akainu is going to let you hear about it. You’ll practically feel his fiery glare boring into your soul as he gruffly commands, “Stop that.” Not a suggestion, not a request—just a straight-up order. And, let’s be honest, you’ll probably stop, if only because his tone makes it sound like not stopping would somehow make the Earth implode.
While Aokiji is all about sprinkling breadcrumbs and letting you follow the trail like some kind of life lesson scavenger hunt, Akainu is not about that life. Oh no. Akainu’s approach is more… let’s call it “visually and audibly overwhelming.”
Picture this: he’s standing in front of you holding a giant, blinding neon sign that screams, “DON’T DO IT!” Not enough? Don’t worry—he’s also got a roaring semi-truck idling nearby, a megaphone cranked up to the max, a PA system blasting the same warning on repeat, and, for good measure, an air raid siren wailing in the background. Oh, and fireworks. Big, loud ones spelling out, “I SAID NO.”
And yet, somehow, beneath all the volcanic intensity, Akainu has… a soft spot for you. Yes, Akainu, the walking embodiment of no-nonsense justice, has a tender side. Shocking, I know. Don’t expect him to go all mushy on you—he’s not about to hand out hugs or write heartfelt letters. His care comes through in a way that’s 100% Akainu: practical, efficient, and borderline bossy.
For instance, if you’re not eating properly, he’ll make sure you do—even if it means somehow orchestrating events so your favorite meal shows up at the perfect time. “Coincidence”? Please. That’s Akainu, silently shaking his head at your questionable life choices and ensuring you don’t faint from malnutrition.
Dangerous situation? Forget about it. You’re already being quietly guided away before you even realize the threat existed. Your environment feels oddly stable and secure? Yep, that’s him too, working behind the scenes like the overprotective angel he is.
It’s wild to think about, but Akainu really does care in his own gruff, no-frills way. He might not shower you with affection or words of encouragement, but his actions? Oh, they speak volumes. Because at the end of the day, Akainu’s brand of love is this: making sure his human is alive, well, and not being an idiot.
When it comes to emotional support, Akainu is… well, let’s just say he’s a bit out of his element. It’s not that he doesn’t care—he does, deeply—but the man wouldn’t know how to ask “Are you okay?” if you handed him a script and a teleprompter. Emotional vulnerability? Yeah, that’s uncharted territory for him.
If you’re having a rough time, he’ll ensure you’re safe and secure, no questions asked. Did someone hurt you? He’s already dealt with it—don’t ask how. Are you overwhelmed? Suddenly, your to-do list is mysteriously cleared, and your surroundings feel unnervingly calm. Did you notice your favorite comfort item conveniently reappear out of nowhere? Yeah, that’s him. He’s got your back, but don’t expect him to say it out loud. Words are not his weapon of choice—lava fists are, but we digress.
And, oh, he will check up on you later. Not in a “Hey, how are you holding up?” kind of way. No, his style is more... covert ops. Picture this: you’re fast asleep, blissfully unaware, and Akainu is leaning over you like a silent hawk, his brows furrowed as he inspects your face. Is your expression too tense? Are you frowning? Smiling? Breathing weird? He’s taking mental notes like it’s a military debriefing.
He might even mutter to himself while pacing. “They seem fine… I think. Maybe. But what if they’re not? Should I—no, that’s stupid. They’ll be fine. Probably.” Eventually, he narrows his eyes, nods in silent approval, and disappears back to wherever guardian angels hang out, fully convinced that his midnight reconnaissance mission was a success.
It’s almost sweet—if it weren’t just a tiny bit unsettling. But hey, that’s Akainu for you. He may not be a master of emotional nuance, but he’s got his own way of showing he cares. Whether it’s through practical actions, silent observations, or his “secret” check-ins, you know he’s always watching over you… in his Akainu way. And honestly? That’s more comforting than he’ll ever admit.
#Borsalino x reader#kizaru x reader#kizaru borsalino#one piece kizaru#Kizaru#one piece borsalino#borsalino#one piece aokiji#aokiji x reader#aokiji one piece#aokiji kuzan#aokiji#one piece kuzan#kuzan x reader#kuzan one piece#op kuzan#kuzan#sakazuki one piece#op sakazuki#one piece sakazuki#akainu sakazuki#op akainu#akainu#one piece akainu#akainu x reader
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've considered this, actually. In particular:
Who's to say the twist boys have any bacteria? Like, in their guts- how do we know that's not exclusive to our world? In writing, this manifests as,
"What the hell? That's inedible, you can't-" "...It's a fucken' blueberry. I've eaten as many of these things as I have ice cubes. It's safe." "Blueberry? It's purple! This is a blueberry!" (Holding up blue fruit that doesn't exist here) "Yeah, and that's edible, too. Just like these. I've been eating them since last month, when I found the bush." "...how are you not dead?"
I think it's a fun concept. Yuu has a much larger diet simply because they don't rely solely on their own cells to digest- they have biome in there. A little reminder that these people aren't quite like them, a subtle indicator that they're too alien to make perfect sense... by this world's standards, anyway.
Since yuu is from a different world imagine how dangerous it could be to share the utensils, kiss or bite each other since all the Microorganisms, bacteria etc would all be completely forgein to yuu's body, like if someone were to bite yuu it could have a venom-like effect
239 notes
·
View notes
Text
Garashir - Julian Bashir / Elim Garak - Deep Space 9
Yes, I'm doing it. After weeks of my poor husband listening to me rant and rave about these two, I decided it was time to start a Meta following their relationship and what wasn't and could have been if TPTB had let these two experience a fully formed romantic relationship rather than one told in between furtive glances and flitting flirtations.
I was quite young when Deep Space 9 aired, but I remember gravitating very heavily toward Julian Bashir. His character underwent such growth, and Siddig El Fadil (as I memorized his name when I was a child, now billed as Alexander Siddig) was mezmerizing.
Little Rachel didn't catch every episode, so I missed a lot of Andrew Robinson as Garak, but watching as an adult I am in awe of the charismatic performance that birthed out of one heckuva interestingly written first scene.
Where will this go? Oh, everywhere! And I'm ever so glad to go there with you.
I wouldn't think a 30-year-old show would need a spoiler warning, but just in case: Spoilers abound for those who dare to dive in. Everything. In totality. Even a bit about Star Trek: Lower Decks.
Shall we?
Before we begin with the meeting of two spectacular characters, I want to preface that I am well-aware that Siddig and Robinson were onboard from moment one and that they acted the hell out of it.
I think it's absolutely beautiful that these two have been the champions of this relationship, and it makes it all the more fun to write a meta like this—knowing that a lot of the microexpressions I tend to latch onto naturally were intentional. Oh, that makes this even more fun!
"It's Doctor Bashir, isn't it? Of course it is. May I introduce myself?" "Uhhhh, yes. Yes. Of course."
From moment one, Bashir is flustered. Yes, we could say he has a degree of excitement about meeting a supposed spy, but there's something in the way these two hold one another's gazes before Garak even opens his mouth that's intriguing.
Thanks to Robinson's openess about his character, we know that Garak was DTF. But Bashir is on the receiving end of this attention and affection, and unsure how to respond to it.
Now, I don't think this is is because our dear doctor is not open to attraction between himself and a being who is not female-presenting, but more because he truly believes this being to be a spy.
Can you trust the flirtations of someone skilled in the art of espionage? This is something Bashir will have to chew on for some time. He just doesn't know it, yet.
"My name is Garak. A Cardassian by birth, obviously."
And there's the moment Bashir looks the man up and down. But, why? It's such a minor thing, but it catches my attention every time, mostly because I know it was a choice on Siddig's part. Bashir looked this alien up and down while trying to figure him out.
Garak invites himself to sit across from the handsome doctor, stating much of the obvious while attempting to draw Bashir out.
"You are new to this station, I believe." "I-I-I am, yes."
Bashir is stammering. And it reminds me of my Middle child. Middle is Autistic, and stammering often happens when he's worked up about something, or really excited.
Bashir then places his elbows on the table... and immediately encounters the plant. He tries to bat it away, but becomes so embarassed he puts his hands back down on the table.
"Though, though I understand you've been here for quite a while." "Ah! You know of me, then."
Garak is noticeably delighted. No doubt, he thinks this awareness smooths the way for him to be even more forward with the object of his desire.
Bashir defers to tea and tries to order Garak some, while Garak basks in the attentive nature of this human he's spied. No doubt, he's wondering just how attentive the good doctor is in other areas of his life.
"As you may also know, I have a clothing shop nearby, so if you should require any apparel, or simply wish as I do, for a bit of enjoyable company now and then, I'm at your disposal, doctor."
Translation: I want to drape you in the sexiest clothes, then disrobe you, and I'll do it anytime you like, just let me know. What, that wasn't what you heard?!
"You're very kind, Mr. Garak."
Kind. It's a word that will come back (though not for another season or so) between these two.
"Oh, it's just Garak. Plain simple, Garak."
Plain and Simple will come back, too. I have to give the writers so much credit for bringing both these things back around later on in the series.
"I'm so glad to have made such an interesting new friend."
He places his hands on Bashir's shoulders, that right hand taking its time as the fingers settle and the human watches them, wondering precisely what he's feeling as it rushes through him in waves. Excitement? Attraction? Danger? All three?!
Hopeful he's gotten his meaning across, Garak leaves the nice doctor be. But the impression of the conversation stays with Bashir as a series of emotions and reactions flash across his features.
Yes, there's the excitement of a young man with flights of fancy thinking he's met a spy. But there's also a "What the hell was that!?" that flits across his face as he tries to process all the things he simultaneously felt.
Amongst the other emotions, there was a definite attraction and desire for this Cardassian he's never met. There was something about him that was intriguing from moment one.
The human has always liked aliens, as we recall from his experiences when his parents first took him away to be "reconditioned as a child. He was excited to see so many different aliens, then, and his work as a Doctor allows him to encounter many different species.
But this Cardassian showered him in compliments that disarmed him and left this seemingly smooth ladies' man stammering and grasping for composure. That he could be so easily stripped bare of the arrogance that encapsulated early Bashir characterization is no accident.
The actors gave us this gift in their very first scene together with no idea if they would ever meet, again. At this point, Robinson was a one-episode guest star on the show. It doesn't matter. Both he and Siddig performed the hell out of this.
Later, Julian spies Garak out for a drink. And the way the camera finds him alone in a corner lends a sense of loneliness and isolation to the Cardassian. Even the separation of us from him by the bars in the establishing shot seem to block him out, somewhat.
"And how are you this evening, Mr Garak?"
Dear sweet Julian is on the hunt for a spy, but Garak is simply happy to spot the spry, young Doctor, again. The way "enhance my evening" drips off his tongue tastes of that carnal want in the gentlest of ways.
"Ah, plain simple Garak. How are you today?" "Being observant, Doctor." "I'm sure of it."
That giggle Siddig puts into the performance is just delicious. It feels lived in and earnest.
And then these two have the first of many standing conversations—where the meaning of personal space does not exist. Yes, they were dealing with a 4:3 ratio, but there's a difference between tight quarters and kissing range.
"Come in quickly, Doctor, you're late."
Garak is man-handling his human, but there's a reason for it. And poor, dear Julian actually holds up the suit jacket to see if he likes it. I don't know if that was the actor choice or the script, but it genuinely made me laugh.
This episode aired January 1993, which means it was likely shot in late 1992. The next time the two would work together would be on Season 2's "Cardassians", which aired in October of the same year.
This time, it's Julian who notices Garak sitting alone, drinking from a matching mug begging for its pairing to join it.
"Ah, Tarkalean Tea, again, doctor?"
Nicely done, DS9 writers. Calling back to that first meeting where Bashir offered Garak some tea, saying it was good.
Also, this casual acknowledgement suggests there've been some more interactions that have gone unseen by us in the meantime. It's been 9 months in the real world since last they saw one another, so it isn't unrealistic to imagine.
But the writer of this scene quickly roots us in some kind of a casual relationship that has developed since last Garak set his sights on the doctor. It's expertly done, and while it's not related entirely to the performance, I have to call it out because it's so well done.
Bashir starts fishing, again, about the spy he believes Garak to be. And while Garak plays along a little (because he clocks it immediately), he does tire of it.
"Really, Doctor? Must we always play this game?"
Again, I wanna smooch the screenwriter. This is the 90's, y'all. This is just coming off an era where Riker and Troi were seemingly a couple one episode and the next they were making eyes at other people as if they didn't know one another.
This was an era where episodes were essentially still written in a bottle without continuous storylines because the goal was to establish television that allowed Drop In viewers to join the show at any point without needing previous knowledge to understand every nuance.
Deep Space 9 was famous for bringing continuous story-telling to the forefront of Star Trek with the Dominion War, among other things.
But even here in Season 2, someone on that writing team understood the importance of the relationship between these characters so intimately that they sneaked in lines to establish a history unseen by the audience. That's mind-blowingly masterful and deserves attention.
"I'm no more a spy than you are-" "A doctor."
Ooh, is that a little bitchiness coming off of Bashir here? Me gusta! It's so much more attractive here when aimed at the charismatic Cardassian than when employed in attempted seductions of Daxes.
"What else can I do to convince you I'm just-" "Plain, simple Garak?"
Again, calling back to 9 months earlier at a time when most of us were still recording episodes on VHS and mailing them cross-country in tape exchanges coordinated by a burgeoning internet that consisted of IRC, ICQ, and AOL's Buddy Chat. This is artfully done.
"And a bite on the hand is certainly worth saving a boy's life, wouldn't you say?" "I suppose it depends on whose hand. Just joking, Doctor."
Bashir huffs out the slightest laugh at that. But as they speak, the topic turns to Gul Dukat, and Garak gives the good Doctor an education. One that Bashir attempts to use in a verbal confrontation with Gul Dukat that goes nowhere.
"He's lying." "Is that an opinion, or do you have evidence to support it?" "I have Garak."
This is intriguing to me. Because, in the first scene of the episode, as Garak and Bashir sipped drinks and chatted, Bashir brought up the issue of "trust".
On nothing but the word of a Cardassian he casually knows, Bashir inserted himself into a conversation to which he was no part and got himself duly told off by his superior officer.
One could say that he was foolhardy to so readily believe the man he has correctly deduced to be involved in espionage. But, there's something at a chemical level about these two that cannot be denied. And the next scene shows it all the more.
Bashir tosses and turns in bed, something interfering with his peaceful slumber. He starts himself awake and sits up to see Garak sitting patiently, watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake.
"Come, Doctor."
Woah, there, Nelly. I know you like to be forward, Garak, but did you really need to be that obvious?! There'll be plenty of time for that later.
"Get dressed."
I'm sorry. Are we implying that Garak is just gonna... chill in Bashir's quarters while he unbuttons that non-regulation looking night shirt and nothing's gonna happen between the two of them?
I mean, I suppose there's a reality where Garak is too worried about this Cardassian War Orphan to take advantage of the moment, but I'm certain he is not going to waste the opportunity to enjoy the view.
"We need to be going." "Going? Going where?" "To Bajor."
And on nothing more than that, the good Doctor suits up, wakes his superior officer (who just told him off) and requests a Runabout.
"It's Garak, sir. He wants to go to Bajor." "Bajor. For what?" "He wouldn't tell me."
Listen, honey. I know you're down bad for the Cardassian bad boy, but your Commander's getting a little tired of you interrupting him (first his meeting, then his sleep) on his behalf. Just bang him and be done with it, won't you? But, of course, a timely message saves the day.
"It can't be just a coincidence, sir... What could he be looking for on Bajor?" "There's only one way to find out."
And thus, a Cardassian and his human boy toy took off for answers.
"Perhaps, I can be of service." "You can fix computers?" "Oh, I dabble in isolinear subprocessors. It's a hobby of mine." *jaw clench*
I have to call out the jaw clench. There are few actors who can make a motion that minute and have it read well on camera.
"I continue to underestimate you, Garak."
I've never understood this line. Perhaps, Bashir could not fathom all of Garak's capabilities, but one would automatically assum a spy possessed hidden talents.
Perhaps this line speaks to the 90's, an era when we still pretty-much stuck to the labels provided by John Hughe's Breakfast Club of Brain, Athlete, Basket Case, Princess, and Criminal. Folks weren't easily more than one thing in that compartmentalized view of society and media.
If anything, Garak is an incredible Grey character when it comes to morality and motivation. So, perhaps his inclusion in the show is a delineator between the old and the new—where more complex characters were accepted on television.
But, no, Julian, I don't think you've underestimated him. Perhaps your imagination didn't stretch so far to encompass all of Garak's talents. But, if anything, you've put more stock in him and what he says than anyone else. Otherwise, you wouldn't be on this planet right now.
Garak removes his eyeglass and hands it instinctively to Julian, who receives it. It's a very intimate moment, honestly. They don't discuss this in any way. Garak knows Julian would want to see it, and he hopes to diffuse his questions by tying it all back to his tailor cover.
"Computer, disregard that request and shut down all engines."
Watch Garak, here. Robinson is taking us through an entire thought journey masterfully in seconds through microexpressions. There's surprise. Confusion. Concern. And then a realization where he thinks he's landed on what prompted this.
"I'm sorry you're upset about the orphans... I don't make the rules." "But you do play the game, don't you, Garak? And there is a game being played right now as we speak, isn't there?"
Holy fuck, yes, Julian! Finally, you are pushing back! Look, I love how much Julian can trust Garak sometimes, but it's also a bit foolish, and it's about damn time he held Garak's feet to the fire on this one.
"There are always games, Doctor." "The trouble is I don't have the slightest idea what this game is all about. So you're gonna tell me what's going on inside that plain and simple head of yours, my Cardassian friend, or we're going to sit here until we rot."
Garak looks like he wants to pin him right there. Rather than explain it all to him, Garak feeds him the information he needs to put together the pieces.
See, Garak knows that Bashir has a keen intellect. He doesn't need to tell him everything. He can simply allow Bashir to deduce it.
And perhaps this is a sneak peek of our dear Cardassian's talent for spinning tales and avoiding speaking absolute truth, but it also shows a level of trust in Bashir's intelligence.
It's the furthest Garak is willing to trust Bashir, right now, but it's still a huge leap in terms of any other relationships in Garak's life. I mean, what other friends does he have?
Sure, he initally approached Bashir hoping for a quickie or a nice man he could bootie call every so often. It seems Bashir hasn't quite taken the leap Garak had hoped in that department, but they have spent enough time together to forge some kind of bond.
And that's rare for a spy. Connections are weaknesses, you know. Which makes what these two share throughout the series all the more important for them both.
"Very good, Doctor. I'm glad to see our little get-togethers haven't gone for naught."
Again, this isn't their second time meeting, even if it is only our second time seeing them together. Gosh, I love this writing team for getting it.
"Another coincidence?" "I believe in coincidences. Coincidences happen every day. But I don't trust coincidences."
Gosh, this man can deliver a line. Also, I love the "coincidences" coming back around.
"Do you really think he purged the file on Rugal?" "I would have."
It's not an admission of his role as a spy, but it is a clue. And, if Bashir is paying attention, as much admission as he'll get at this point.
"Are you sure his name was Rugal?" "That's what we were told." *Garak perks up* "Somebody told you his name?" *Garak smiles*
I love this bit. Garak is smart, so he immediately clocks the "told" bit. And then he gets to have pride in his pet human clocking it nearly as quickly.
"Is there anything else, Doctor?"
Julian looks to Garak, who is hovering out-of-view of the Bajoran. He smiles as he shakes his head. "You did well," his smile says.
"Commander, can I ask a few questions?"
Julian walks in with Garak by his side—equals in this moment. And while Sisko earlier told Bashir off for interrupting, he knows well enough, now, that the Doctor must have something constructive to offer.
"Alright. Let's talk about children."
Look. At. The. FRAMING. Yes, we're watching Bashir square off with the menacing Gul Dukat, but framed behind them is a barely contained Garak, watching Bashir with pride.
This isn't the pride of a parental figure, but the pride one feels when their Partner gets to show everyone else what we already see in them. While Bashir has flubbed a bit through this episode, he gets to shine in this scene.
Garak always knew he had it in him, which is why he perked when Bashir stood up to him in the Runabout. Now, he gets to watch as Bashir triumphs in front of his Commanding officer and others against Garak's old nemesis—Gul Dukat.
After Julian moves away to take his place at the front of the room, the frame holds on Gul Dukat with Garak in the background. And, oh, the theater girl in me is fangirling!
Look, there are actors and then there are actors. I will never forget the first time I saw my husband on stage. We wouldn't meet for months later, but I was very bored during the second act of a University performance of St. Joan.
Every actor on that stage was talking, but nobody was listening. You can be a fine actor and get by, but those who also know how to listen and react will always have my heart.
And as the secon act droned on, I noticed one of the 12 people sitting at the front of the stage slowly remove their blindfold, turn their head, and listen.
He had maybe 8 minutes of speaking time on stage, but when I went home that night, I raved to my father about him. "The second act was dragging and then this man took off his blindfold and I thought, 'finally, there's an actor on this stage!'"
Watching Robinson, here, you can tell just how amazing he is. The director chose to keep him in-frame, likely because he recognized the brilliance. And all these years later, that remains a gift to us all.
Julian delivers the final blow, and his forceful presentation gives way to an honest smile directed at Garak, who smiles back, glowing with spousal pride as he nods.
"Truth, Doctor, is in the eye of the beholder. I never tell the truth because I do not believe there is such a thing. That's why I prefer the straight line simplicity of cutting cloth." "So, you're not gonna tell me." "But you don't need me to tell you, my friend. Just notice the details. They're scattered like crumbs all over this table we regularly share."
They have a table. They have a table! I love all these little details. Also, you can tell they've really honed in on Garak's character, here.
While his first, flirty appearance wasn't intended for a recurrence, I think they had a better idea of it, here, and thus a better handle on him. Being illusive is just part of who he is and how he operates.
"Until next time."
And he nods his head toward Bashir, and Bashir nods back. I point this out because it will come back, and I think it's just so incredible that Robinson put this in so early. Trust me, I'll point it out when it comes back, again!
It would be five months before these two shared the screen, again. I point this out only because the spaces between them working together are getting smaller and smaller.
Someone amongst TPTB realized they had a winner with this Garak character and brought him back—expanding his interactions to more of the crew.
"It all comes down to a question of loyalty. My dear doctor, Yuri had to choose between protecting his brother and protecting the state. He chose the state. As would I, every time."
Oh, this is one of those conversations that says so much about Garak for anyone paying attention (or for those of us with knowledge of the future). Watching this the first time, nobody would have known about Tain, about Garak's past, about so many things.
But from this conversation we know he's a man of the state, first. That is where his loyalty lies. Not with people. It's very revealing.
"Fishing, again, Doctor?" "Assuming you're not a spy-" "Assuming." "Then, maybe you're an outcast." "Or, maybe, I'm an outcast spy." "How could you be both?" "I never said I was either."
He's telling you, Julian! You just have to listen instead of looking for what you want to hear. In this episode, Julian may not realize how much of what Garak said in that short span was true. But, we, the audience, do.
"Before I became a tailor I went by a simple motto—never let sentiment get in the way of your work. A bit of a cliché, but true, nonetheless."
Unsurprising to any of us paying attention. But, this is a television show, so one has to wonder how this next bit is going to play out, right?
In this one episode, we've gotten to see how Garak can play both sides, how much we wants to go home, how much he hates exile. They've set it up for us to believe that Garak is going to do the wrong thing, here.
For goodness sake, Robinson was probaby peeking at the end of the script to see if this would be the one where they killed him off. It would've made narrative sense!
"I can't believe that you were once considered clever."
Oh, you Cardassian bloviator. How you've underestimated the simple tailor.
"I love Cardassia. Which is why I had to do what I did."
He said at the start of the episode that he will always choose Cardassia. And once he realized that the old frenemie ruined his Central Command-approved plan, he chose what was best for his homeworld and not what was best for him. And that, my friends, is a true act of love.
Why go into all of this when this is supposed to be a Garashir Meta? Well, because everything that happened plays into a simple, short scene between the two at the beginning of the episode.
Garak had to choose between a frenemie and the State. Like he said, he'd always choose the State. So, for once, Garak was not lying to the dear Doctor at all.
Now we get to one of my favorite Garashir episodes—The Wire. Because, let's face it, there's a lot of these two in this episode and Robinson is just... oh, chef's kiss.
PAUSE: Why was Julian Bashir my favorite character on DS9? Well, much as he was and is a gorgeous human who should be immortalized in marble, it wasn't looks. I was a child when I first watched the show, and I'm pretty damn Ace, so it's not about looks. No, it's about talent.
I long ago realized that I choose favorites based on talent. When The Backstreet Boys were big (and I learned a couple songs so I could sing along as school dances while cringing over the music videos), friends asked who my favorite was. "Brian!" I said without hesitation. "But he's not cute," my friends responded.
I hadn't even considered if he was cute. I chose him because he was the most talented.
My favorites of each Star Trek series tended to be the performers that I thought were the most talented. Siddig was unmatched, to me, amongst the main cast. It was only opposite Robinson where I saw two evenly matched performers feeding off of one another and elevating each other.
So, yes, I am gushing right now over Robinson, but accompanied by that is a baseline of being gobsmacked by Siddig.
Now, let's take that appreciation of these two giants into The Wire, which aired only two months after the previous episode featuring Garak.
"I hope I'm not boring you, Doctor." "Oh, not at all, no."
Bashir places a hand amicably on Garak's back, patting once and taking almost a full two seconds before letting his hand drop away.
"I just up late last night." "Entertaining one of your lady friend?"
C'mon, Garak. Just say it. You'd rather he be up late entertaining you. We all know it!
Also, glaring intensely at whichever higher up said, "Oooh, we need the pansexual lizard to reference the Julian is definitely all about the ladies!" Like, y'all, we can clock the queer from here. It's okay. You can totally let them be in love.
"Unfortunately, not."
Covering. This has to be covering. It's not like the good doctor can't ensnare some cutie with that boyish smile of his. But he has to play along for anyone listening along so they don't suspect his attraction to the Cardassian Spy. That's the reason, right?
"No, I was reading the last few chapters of The Neverending Sacrifice." "Isn't it superb? Without a doubt the finest Cardassian novel ever written."
Hold up. Hold up. This is boyfriend behavior. You're telling me he stayed up late last night reading a Cardassian novel? Like, he purposefully didn't go out or see anyone because he wanted to do something that connects him to Garak!?
Oh, honey. Now I see why you had to cover with that "unfortunately no ladies" thing. You're down bad for lizard boy.
"There's always Quark's." "True. But I'm really not in the mood for noisy, crowded, and vulgar today." "I suppose the Klingon restaurant is out of the question."
Is this flirty? My dear Siddig, you really played this line as flirty! And I adore it!
"Maybe if you lent me another book by a different writer-"
Again, DS9 writers doing the most with limited space. We know, now, that Garak lent Bashir the book. Some part of him wanted Julian to connect with this, one of his favorite books.
This is not Spy behavior, my dear Cardassian. This is boyfriend behavior. You crave genuine connection with Julian. This isn't fuck-town anymore where you simply want him carnally. No, you're developing feelings for the man.
In the immortal words of Whoopi, "You in danger, girl".
"It would only be a waste of time. When it comes to art, you're obviously a prisoner of Federation dogma and human prejudice." "I'm sorry you feel that way."
Do you hear how softly Julian says this? He's genuinely hurt that he hurt Garak's feelings. He wants to smooth it over by trying, again. Pain seizes Garak before they can continue.
"Are you alright?" "I'm fine." "You don't look fine. Your skin is clammy and your pupils have contracted."
The wounded boyfriend voice has lifted to the concerned boyfriend voice. Garak smiles a bit, touched by the consideration, but also trying to put up a brave front.
"I assure you, I'm in perfect health. Now, you were asking about other Cardassian books, something, maybe a little more acces-"
He's trying to divert, to change the subject. But his pain is too much for him to carry out his usual subterfuge and obfuscation.
"Perfect health? Then Cardassian standards must be a little lower than mine."
Ouch, Julian. Did you really have to take that jab at the man when he's already down!? Julian places his arm around Garak to escort him to the Infirmary, but there's no way our dear Cardassian is going to let that happen.
And then we get to the moment I had to pause the video and search Social Media. See, a name popped up that I immediately recognized. "Robert Hewitt Wolfe"
He wrote this episode. And, as I opened a tab to Bluesky, I realized that of course, I follow him... and he follows me. Me!? Why me!?
Look, loves, I'm a former VO artist and actress from Virginia who grew up in North Carolina. Yes, I grew up on film sets, but that was a whole other part of my life. I have some incredible folks who follow me on Social Media, and I've never fathomed why.
So, honored as I am to find Wolfe following me... I have no idea why!
"I only wish my humanoid patients were as easy to treat." "Did Chief O'Brian dislocate his shoulder, again?"
This is so telling. See, Jadzia can tell from Julian's tone that he's not just talking about any patient. He is pointedly talking about a patient with whom he shares genuine connection. This isn't ordinary annoyance. This is frustration.
"It's Garak. Today, at lunch, he seemed as though he was gonna have some sort of seizure. He was having trouble breathing and appeared to be in a great deal of pain. When I tried to get him to come to the infirmary, he outright refused."
All he needed was someone to open the door. In seconds, he ascertained a lot about his Cardassian friend's condition. And now he's worried. He can't let it go.
I've seen folks talk about Bashir being Autistic-coded, and as the mother of an incredible Autistic-child, I can really see it. And one thing my boy has a really hard time doing is letting go when he is invested in something or someone.
"It's that damn Cardassian evasiveness of his. I mean, keeping me guessing about his past is one thing, but when it comes to his health, I don't know. Why can't he just tell me what's going on?" "It sounds like you're taking this personally." "I suppose I am."
Oh, honey, we know you are. The game of who Garak is and what Garak's done is part of your foreplay. But knowing that he is in pain and worrying that it's going to escalate is not fun.
"It's just that Garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year, now, you would think he'd come to trust me a little."
Honey, he roped you into a midnight trip to Bajor and trusted you with the truth about that Cardassian child. Did you forget about that? Or, maybe you don't yet understand just how much trust that actually took.
He does trust you. More than he trusts anyone else on this spacestation. But your soon-to-be-beloved has a lot of trust issues, and a problem with sentiment.
And I just realized I've written "Honey" four times in this Meta so far. And, no, it isn't common in my Metas. It seems reserved, right now, for Julian Bashir. So, in case you thought I'd missed that little quirk, no, I didn't, and I have no explanation. Anyway...
"Why should he? It's not like the two of you are really friends." "Well, no. Of course not."
And Julian bluffs. He tries to brush it off. Because what they are will never fall into a simple label. It'd be convenient if it did, especially for the members of TPTB who were against this unlikely love affair.
But these two have a special bond that goes beyond any either of them has ever had. And while we only see Julian banging women on the series, this is supposed to be a more evolved time where we don't judge one another based on who they love.
So, it's unreasonable to label any character in the Star Trek universe as "straight" simply because of what we see on-screen.
Garashir hasn't been a phenomenon for thirty years because these two were friends. What they were and are is so much more complicated than that. But in this moment with Jadzia, Julian doesn't have those words and wouldn't even know where to start. So, he deflects.
"I suppose when it comes right down to it, I don't trust him, either. I mean, for all I know the man is a Cardassian spy."
Julian... honey... did you forget when you woke Sisko in the middle of the night to procure a Runabout just because Garak asked you to!? You trust him. And you're upset he doesn't seem to trust you back.
That's what this really is. He does trust Garak. And he wants desperately for Garak to trust him back. I mean, can you love someone you don't trust? Maybe. Can you love someone who doesn't trust you? Sure.
But trust is an important part of any relationship. And this episode really highlights that for Garak and Bashir.
"And if he doesn't want my help, that's his perogative."
Besides the obvious angry stab that Jadzia totally clocks, the emphasis on "my" is fascinating. Julian isn't upset that Garak isn't seeking medical assistance. It's about him. He's upset that Garak isn't seeking his assistance.
So, of course, Bashir leaves Jadzia and spies... his boyfriend asking somebody else for help. And, oh, that burns.
"You and Garak going into business?"
Busted! Nice spy work, Bashir. Looks like you have been paying attention.
"Really? I thought Garak sounded a bit upset." "Upset? I hadn't noticed. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"
Ohhhh, the jaw clench is working overtime. Julian looks like he might punch Quark right then and there. I mean, you can feel the heat coming off of Bashir, and that is all Siddig pouring it into the performance. So delicious.
"I was hoping you could give me a hand. I've been trying to access the old Cardassian medical files, but I haven't been having much luck."
Look at boyfriend Bashir using his free time to try to help his favorite Cardassian. Of course, he finds out it will take too long to get the files he needs, and you can see the frustration flash through him as he takes it in. Another dead end.
"Quark to Bashir." "This is Bashir." "Doctor, I need you in my bar, right away."
Let's talk about this, right quick. So, we all know that Bashir and Garak have been having lunch together at least once a week for a year, now, right?
So, when Garak is getting a bit out of hand and needs someone to take him home, who does Quark call? He calls Bashir. Because Bashir is Garak's person, and everyone who's paying attention knows it.
Again, this isn't a simple "friend" label. But Quark didn't call Bashir for his medical experience here. He called him for his Garak experience. And Bashir clocks the very drunk Garak as soon as he enters. He passes off his medical kit to Quark and sets his sights on Garak.
"Doctor. What a pleasant surprise. I apologize for my outburst at lunch, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Please, join me." "I think I will. May I?" "By all means... What are you doing!?"
Note the different responses to the different people. Quark and Garak have a "friendly" association, but they aren't friends. Bashir is the closest thing to a friend Garak has.
"I think it's a little noisy in here. I'd prefer to drink somewhere quieter."
As Bashir clutches the long-necked bottle, he uses Garak's own words from earlier against him.
"Why, an excellent idea. We'll go to my quarters."
Well, it's about damn time. I mean, yes, Garak did break into Bashir's quarters that one time, but this is the first time he's inviting him back to his place that we've seen.
And, Bashir, what are you doing with your face?! That open mouth. Those wandering eyes as Garak places the cork in the bottle.
"Whatever you want."
Um.... do you mean that, Doctor? Because, I'm certain the handsome Cardassian would love to take you up on that!
But, alas, nobody gets what they want (except Quark who snatches that bottle from behind Bashir's back as quickly as he can). Bashir tries to bamboozle his boyfriend into a trip to the Infirmary, but even blundering drunk Garak is still an astute Garak.
"I am not going to the Infirmary, and I refuse to play this ridiculous game."
Ah, yes, the games. A lot of their foreplay is in games. But, also, a lot of the way Garak's been forced to live all these years.
"Make it stop. Make it stop."
Because Garak really does want it to stop. The pain. The embarassment. The humiliation. The loneliness. The isolation. He wants it all to stop.
But that requires letting someone in. That requires trust. And, for obvious reasons, he's not one who naturally trusts with ease.
"Is that legal?" "It's in the best interest of Station Security. Doctor, do you want to know what Quark knows or not?" "I see your point."
Because he needs to know how to help Garak.
"Patient Garak is no longer in the Infirmary." "What!?"
I love the reading on that. It's exasperated more than surprised. Because of course that frustrating Cardassian was gonna slip out the second his back was turned. He stalks off to his boyfriend's Quarters to give him a piece of his mind... and find that he of course stole medicine.
"Ah, Doctor, what a pleasant surprise."
He meant it at Quark's. He's lying, here. He'd much rather be alone.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Oh, I love pissed off Julian. All he wants to do is help Garak, and from his point of view, Garak keeps making it worse by keeping him at arm's length.
His "What the hell do you think you're doing" screams, "Why won't you just let me help you, you foolish lizard man!?"
"Listen to me, Garak, I've had just about enough of your nonesense. Now, you're coming back to the Infirmary with me." "Oh, I don't think so. Believe me when I tell you, there's nothing you can do for me." "Oh, and Quark can, is that it?!"
Ooooh, there it is. I was right! Julian is jealous and hurt and he desperately wants Garak to trust him. Garak's eyes widen in surprise. Upon learning Quark couldn't get the item, though, Garak accepts his fate.
"Ah, well. Maybe it's for the best. My hypospray, if you please." "Another dose of tryptocederine might kill you." "Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but I'd rather have the hypospray." "I'm not gonna let you commit suicide. I'm here to help you."
But you can't force help on someone who doesn't want it. Not like this. Sure, Bashir could knock Garak out and get him back to the Infirmary, but that won't give him answers. That won't give him a path to healing. He needs Garak to open up and let him help.
"We've got to get you to the Infirmary." "My dear doctor, I have no intention of putting myself on display for the amusement of the Bajoran inhabitants of this statin." "It's not your pride I'm worried about. It's that implant you're carrying around inside your head." "You know about that, do you?"
Again, he's impressed. Julian has put in the work on this one. But this also illuminates why Garak has been so resistant to being in the Infirmary all along—he's a Cardassian. And he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is his exit.
He truly believes that Bashir cannot help him. So, why tell him anything? But the more he pushes and pushes, the more little truths slip out.
"Garak! I need to know what we're up against. If you tell me what it's for, maybe I could find some way to remove it."
There it is. We. Us. In the immortal words of Pacey Whitaker, "There's an us here, now."
Somewhere in there... Garak decides to tell the truth. At least, some of it. He leaves out his parentage, of course, but he tells Bashir about the implant, about his true torture in exile.
"Living on this station is torture for me, Doctor. The temperature is always too cold. The lights always too bright. Every Bajoran on this station looks at me with loathing and contempt."
He turned it on continuously a year before he met Bashir. So, we have never seen him at a time when he was without it. We don't have any clue what baseline Garak looks like without his happy pills. A terrifying and intriguing thought.
"So... that's it, then. You're just going to give up and let them win." "Them, Doctor?" "The Central Command. The Obsidian Order. Whoever it was who exiled you here. You're just going to roll over and die, let them destroy you, give up any hope of ever seeing Cardassia, again." "Doctor, did anyone ever tell you that you are an infuriating pest?" "Chief O'Brian, all the time, and I don't pay any attention to him, either."
I know this is not the best time, but is anyone else just waiting for these two to kiss? This is lover-level arguing, folks.
"Has it ever occurred to you that I might be getting exactly what I deserve?" "No one deserves this."
There's that soft voice, again. The one he had when he apologized for Garak thinking he had no taste when it came to literature.
"Oh, please, Doctor. I'm suffering enough without having to listen to your smug, Federation sympathy. You think that because we have lunch together once a week you know me? You couldn't even begin to fathom what I'm capable of."
He's pushing Julian away. He's trying to drive Julian off because sentiment is a weakness that Garak can't afford. Right?
"I am a Doctor. You're my Patient. That's all I need to know."
And this is one of those moments where Julian really shines. Yes, he's been a bit emotional about Garak this episode... stabbing plans and all. But, when it's time to be the cool and calm one, he does it expertly.
I can be an emotional human. Heck, I'm human, so emotion is part of the whole shebang, right? But, when there's an emergency, I'm the coolest head in the room. I don't know if it's my Disaster Relief background, my News background, or just lots of childhood trauma that taught me how to be cool-headed, but I excel at it.
And, here, Bashir has shifted into his professionalism.
See, the personal side has been settled for him, in a way. Garak let him in. Garak told him what the problem was. He now has a starting point because Garak gave him something to work with. Now, he is back to being a Doctor trying to help his Patient.
"Wrong, again. You need to know who you're trying to save."
Watch Garak's face as he turns away. He doesn't want to do this. But he feels he has to.
What good is a spy with real friends? He needs to be ready to leave at any moment, ready to kill anyone for the sake of Cardassia, ready to face his end if that is the best outcome.
Garak puts distance between them, putting the actual desk between them, even though the framing obscures it.
He tells half-truths to Bashir—enough to hopefully drive him away, to destroy his compassion, to let him die alone and tortured by his past.
Bashir feels the full weight of the words and leans against the desk for support. Garak crosses back around the desk to stand alongside him, ready for his punishment. Ready for the rejection. Ready for the inevitable loss.
And the camera moves with him. At this point, we've spent nearly 15 seconds on this shot, already. There is no switch in perspective.
We are with Garrack as he rounds the table to Bashir, as he settles in next to him, as we transition from Garak standing alone and defiant, to him leaning, defeated, and worn... but not alone.
"I hope I haven't shattered too many of your illusions."
Garak lowers his head, closing his eyes, ready for his heart to shatter as his work is done. Yes, a lot of what he said is probably true, and he thinks it will be enough to drive his one friend away.
The shot is stunning. He leans down so that their heads are almost on the same level. Bashir is heavy with possible truths. Garak is heavy with fear and trauma.
"Listen to me, Garak-"
Cutting him off, because this is the second time he's said it this scene, but the tone is completely different. Before, he was angry. He was incensed! He demanded that Garak return to the Infirmary.
This time is different. And the writer gave Siddig the space to do this so beautifully—to show the difference between Bashir at the beginning of the scene and the end.
Garak looks up to meet his eyes, unsure of what he's going to say. There's openness on his side, more so than usual. And on Bashir's, a choice has been made—one that Garak didn't anticipate for all his possible scenarios plotted in the miliseconds used to gather his story.
"Right now I'm not concerned with what you did in the past. I'm simply not gonna walk out of here and let you die. You need to turn that implant off, and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, I promise,I"ll help you through them."
Garak looks away from Bashir, his eyes darting back to the compassionate man before him. His plan failed. He didn't scare away his only friend. He looks away, unable to meet Julian's eyes.
"I need to know where that triggering device is. Where is it?"
And Garak tells him. At this point, I don't know if Garak realized that he would continue to deteriorate even after it was turned off. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't.
But I think he also realized he finally had someone in his life who wouldn't push him away, wouldn't give up on him, wouldn't denounce him when it got scary.
And the camera moves with Bashir. We've been on that same shot for an entire minute at this point. We started with Garak defiantly finishing his story, to the two of them meeting in the middle, to Bashir taking over as the man of action, going for the device.
As Bashir grasps the device, the camera pans up, Bashir in the background and a bent Garak in the foreground. Again, there's an us here, and the camerawork is helping tell that tale.
Also—over a minute of these two on-camera? That's sensational. Camera cuts can cover up a multitude of sins. From someone flubbing a line, to a case of the giggles, to bad blocking.
But Siddig and Anderson are skilled enough to handle the long take with ease. Both practiced performers who are accustomed to the unforgiving nature of the live audience on the stage, they take their characters through this journey together masterfully.
And, again, it's Anderson's reactions that really gut you. But Siddig gives him the space for those reactions to breathe. For example, when Bashir says, "Listen to me, Garak," he takes a breath, there. It gives Garak the time to gather himself, to take a breath himself, to meet his friend's eyes.
You can see Garak gathering the courage for his heart to break. Yes, he spun the tale that was intended to do just that. But, he honestly wishes it weren't so.
"Right now, I'm not concerned with what you did in the past." Garak's mouth opens. It's slight, but it's there. He's surprised.
"I'm simply not gonna walk out of here and let you die." Garak's eyes start searching Bashir's—he means it. This isn't a trick. This isn't subterfuge. He gives a damn.
"...I promise I'll help you through them." That's when Garak looks away. He doesn't feel like he deserves Bashir's kindness. If anything, he deserves to be abandoned and have his heart break before he dies alone, right?
It's such a gorgeous scene. The writing. The directing. The framing. The performing. The vulnerability Robinson lends Garak in that last minute, and the compassion Siddig pours into Bashir.
Some actors simply can't carry a scene like that, but these two meet one another, feeding off of one another, giving to one another instead of trying to dominate the space as the focal point.
And, look, for all I know these long shots are simply the result of the production schedule adjusting so there would be fewer set-ups and Robinson could get out of the Cardassian wet-suit faster. But, even if they are, they're still a wonder to behold.
"Well, that'll be all, for now. If you need to reach me, I'll be here for at least the next 26 hours."
Think about the nuance of all of this. He didn't bring Garak back to the Infirmary. He set up in Garak's Quarters to be sure Garak would be as comfortable as possible, but gave no thought to his own comfort as he's tending his patient.
Garak will be able to detox with dignity in private—save Julian. And Julian will fulfill his promise to help him through. The door chimes, and it's Odo.
"Come on, we can talk outside."
Yes, you could say that Julian is only doing this because he is in Doctor mode looking out for his Patient. But, earlier he was willing to do something illegal in monitoring Quark's private communications for the sake of information, right?
"I'm afraid your questions will have to wait."
And René Auberjonois' reaction is what makes this fascinating. He was not expecting the good Doctor to say that.
"Doctor, these are murder cases and Garak may be a suspect."
Maybe the human doesn't understand, right? Maybe if he speaks to the brilliant doctor like he's a toddler, he'll get through.
"That may be so, but he's still my patient and I'll not have him disturbed, so until further notice his Quarters are off-limits to everyone except Emergency Medical Personnel. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a patient to attend to."
Odo acknowledges it, but he looks back several times in consternation to the door as he goes. He's wondering about the good Doctor's motives, here. He is. And he's not wrong to wonder.
Yes, Julian is a Doctor tending to his Patient. But he's also a friend who made a promise that he intends to keep.
At first, Garak sleeps. There are fitful moments. And Julian watches over him. He hovers. And then, finally, he curls up in the chair and drifts off to sleep. He's exhausted. He's worn. But he wakes to the soft sobs of a Cardassian.
Can you imagine how unnerving it is for a hardened Cardassian spy to find himself crying in the presence of a weak human? A human he has trusted to get him to this point. A weakness he can't afford?
And, yes, he is under the extreme stress of detox. He has gone from reliance on this implant for two years to turning it off, cold turkey, and his system is in shock. He's going to lash out. And Julian knows it.
"Garak?" "Leave me alone." "I don't think that would be a good idea right now. Your blood chemistry is severely unbalanced. You need to rest."
Julian perches on the bed next to Garak, but they are facing opposite directions. Julian has one perspective, and Garak the other. He places a hand on the Cardassian's shoulder, and Garak lurches from it.
Ordinarily, Garak would welcome Julian's touch. Already this episode, this is the fourth time Julian has reached out to touch Garak, once as a friendly pat, and twice with the hopes of escorting him to the Infirmary.
But in his detox, Garak doesn't want touch. He doesn't want affection. He's hurting and angry and confused. But he's still Garak—weaver of tales and master of half-truths masquerading as full lies.
"Don't touch me." "Calm down."
Julian, honey, no. And, Garak runs with it. He starts destroying things—the lamp, overturning his desk with barely any effort.
"Do you have any idea what that means?" "I'm afraid I don't." "No, you don't, do you. You don't know much of anything."
Again, he's pushing Julian away. But when Julian brings up the shuttle story... the story shifts.
And we begin another long shot following Garak as he rants and raves, possessed by memory and haunted by the horrors he'd rather bury in the forced endorphines of his mind.
Robinson is monologuing. As a theatrical actor, this is not something that would be new to him. But a lot of science fiction simply didn't possess performers of this caliber at that time.
In this version, Garak is the one who made the unthinkable choice and Elim is the angry Statesman.
And this shot was 1:15 long. Yes, Robinson has the heavy work in this scene and is teaching us a masterclass on performing. But Siddig has to support without ever drawing focus. And that is tougher than it looks. Again, masters.
"And so they exiled you." "That's right! And left me to live out my day with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you."
This sounds biting, and Julian takes it as such. But, underneath that is a truth—for an entire year, Garak had nothing to look forward to on this station. At first, he spied the spry Startfleet Doctor and though, "ooh, a bit of fun!"
But, now... time with Julian is something he looks forward to. For any of us who have ever been in a tough spot, felt like the walls were closing in, were struggling through life—we understand the power of having something to look forward to.
"I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company." "Oh, I did! And that's the worst part."
Now, Julian knows that Garak is lashing out because of the detoxification. Likely, this isn't the first time he's helped a patient through this.
But they have the added layer of a friendship. Yes, it's one they both deny, at this point. Garak needs to fool himself into thinking he'd still kill Julian at a moment's notice, and Julian needs to underplay how much Garak means to him because he isn't yet ready to face it.
So, Julian averts his eyes as Garak continues, because he needs to try to keep this in Doctor mode and not take it personally.
"I can't believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face."
Staring, you say? Yeah, I know, not the best time to swoon. But, y'all, he enjoys staring at the good Doctor and just admitted it. It's cute!
"I hate this place and I hate you." "Okay, Garak. That's your prerogative. Now, I really think you should lie down."
He's barely holding onto the professionalism, here. He cognitively knows well enough that this isn't as personal as it might seem. Garak is coming off of two years of dependency on a drug to maintain his happiness that is now just... gone.
The two tussle, and another seizure strikes. It's too much for Bashir to handle in Garak's quarters, and so they end up in the Infirmary, again, where Julian tries to solve the issues of Garak's continued degradation.
And after all that... Bashir still wants to help. Garak, now calmer, listens in on the conversation. He decides to share yet another version of the story, sprinkling in some crumbs that Bashir can choose to follow—or not.
"You've done enough, doctor. More than I deserve."
But what I find incredible about this conversation, is how Garak emphasizes that he deserved his exile for what he did to his best friend. Now, anyone who's seen the whole series knows Elim and Garak are one.
But who is Garak's best friend now? Has Garak ever had a best friend? Someone he could count on?
"Why are you telling me this, Garak?" "So that you can forgive me. Why else? I need to know that someone forgives me."
The weight of this. Yes, yes. I know they're about to hold hands and be all sweet about it. But that last line is important. Because in Season 5's "In Purgatory's Shadow" Garak tells Bashir how he'd hoped Tain—the most important relationship in his life—could forgive him.
There is only one other person whose forgiveness holds weight with Garak—and that's Julian. Julian places his hand in Garak's, and Garak holds on, holding the human's gaze.
"I forgive you... for whatever it is you did."
This. Is. Art. The pause. The shrug! There's so much going on here. Because Julian is intimating he doesn't believe he knows the whole truth, even now, while still offering the absolution Garak seeks.
"Thank you, Doctor. That's most kind."
Bashir used this word at their first meeting. Kind. Not a special word, in any fashion, but it struck me hearing it again, here, said by the other party.
Garak has been pushing Julian away throughout the day, but here he invites him in, a little. We went from "Don't touch me" to an outstretched hand. We went from him deflecting Julian to offering him the breadcrumbs needed (where to find Tain, information on just how dangerous Tain is) just in case Julian can pull this off.
Julian smiles at Garak as he fades off, exhausted, tired. And then Bashir shifts into "get shit done" mode.
"Still, what you did was very brave. I'm impressed... Are all the Starfleet Lieutenants as brash as you are?"
Tain, your son chose a good man—brave and true.
"Tell me, Doctor. How sick is Garak?" "He's dying." "And you're trying to save him." "That's right." "Strange. I thought you were his friend." "I suppose I am."
Now, we can speculate that Bashir is saying what he needs to say to get what he needs from Tain. But, we could also conclude that Garak is dying, so what's the harm in admitting they're friends at this point?
"Then you should let him die. After all, for Garak a life in exile is no life at all." "Say what you will. My job is to keep him alive. And I need your help."
And we're back in Doctor mode. It worked on Odo, so it might work here, right?
"Doctor... Elim is Garak's first name."
Bashir had been holding is own against Tain rather well until this point, but that reveal rocked him a bit. Even what he thought he understood from Garak's stories is now meaningless. "Just plain Garak", eh?
But, I think it's Garak's way of separating the parts of himself and who he is. Yes, he did terrible things. Yes, he also did good things. The Cardassian is as morally grey as they get on this show. Compartmentalization is logical for one forced to endure exile while pondering past predicaments that sealed one's fate.
At lunch, a pondering Bashir twirls his fork.
"So, how's the Idanian Spiced Pudding?" "How's the spiced pudding?! Is that all you have to say for yourself!?"
Love Siddig's read on that first bit. It makes me laugh every time. He's so indignant! So frustrated.
"I, for one, Doctor, am perfectly satisfied with the way things turned out. And I see no need to dwell on what was doubtlessly a difficult time for both of us."
Say it with me, folks: "There's an us here, now".
"Here. I brought you something." "What is it? ... More Cardassian literature." "I think you'll find this one more to your tastes."
This time, he isn't using it as a divergence. This is a thank you. This is him inviting Bashir in even closer than before. No, he still won't speak in full-truths. To be honest, he probably doesn't know how.
But while Bashir didn't enjoy the first book, he realizes that Bashir's openness to trying more isn't out of some weird ideology, but because he is invested in Garak and wants to understand him better.
The trauma of what they just weathered will endure—but so will the bond they strengthened in the flames.
"You know, I still have a lot of questions to ask you about your past." "I have given you all the answers I am capable of."
And, you can almost believe him, there.
"You've given me answers, alright, but they were all different. What I want to know is of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't."
Did you note Bashir's hands? This is how he tried to place his hands the first time he met Garak, when he got caught up in the plant, when he was completely flustered.
But Julian's tone is different from any other time they've had this conversation. Partially because he is now privy to information (Garak's first name) that Garak doesn't know he's learned.
I love the detail that now that he is on a closer-to-equal footing with the Cardassian, he can place his hands like this and pull it off without effort. It says something about his character coming along, I think.
"My dear Doctor, they're all true." "Even the lies?" "Especially the lies."
Julian smiles at his friend, shaking his head as he does.
It's one of my favorite Garashir episodes, not just for the incredible writing, directing, and performances—but for how it pushes their relationship forward.
Though Julian still has questions, he has a little more to go on—and while that little may not seem significant, it is for Garak. And I think some part of Bashir knows it.
They won't see each other again until Season 3. Now, the Garak seen in "The Search" doesn't even technically exist. He's not a part of the team whose minds are hooked up to a Matrix-like simulation. But that leads me to wonder—whose version of Garak is he?
Was this version of Garak programmed in for their enjoyment? Or is he an amalgamation of their perceptions? Also, since Bashir was one of those under sedation, his reactions to Garak were real, regardless of if Garak himself was.
So, let's talk a little about how this plays out for our beloved Garashir with the understanding that Garak's characterization is coming from somewhere, but we know not where. What we do know is that Bashir's responses are 100% real.
"Doctor! Welcome back!"
Alright, maybe this should've been the first clue that something was off—what the hell is Garak doing!? He's just puttering around at some weird computer for no apparent reason, pining and waiting for his beloved to return.
"Business keeping you busy?" "The tailoring business? Or the spy business? Joking, of course." "Of course."
Bashir is beaming like he's having the time of his life. 'And he is flirting. While we don't know who dreamt up this version of Garak, we know he's got the attention of the Doctor!
"I've missed you. I've been genuinely concerned for your safety. Lunch hasn't been the same without you."
Alright. Now I'm going for Bashir-influenced headcannon because dude, that is boyfriend-level dialogue I wouldn't expect from the usually close-vested Cardassian.
Is this what Julian wants from Garak? Is this what the Changelings think Garak would say to Bashir? Whichever it is, it's revealing of either how Julian sees his relationship with Garak or how the outside world views them. Neither is particularly straight. Just sayin'.
"That's very kind of you to say so, Garak."
Because he wouldn't say it, honey. But I definitely think you want him to. And don't think I missed you slipping the "kind" in there, again.
"I'm afraid you have a loose thread right here." ... "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying yourself, Garak." "Oh, not at all, Doctor, but after years of hemming women's dresses, a little action is a welcome change of pace."
Again, this is a simulation. But, clearly someone thinks Garak will take the side of the Federation in all this, and that he will very often be by the side of his favorite Doctor.
But, also, damn, Julian is flirty today! Like, "Having fun, darling?" Tell me I'm not the only one hearing it!
"I have them! I have them. By all means, Commander, do as they say." "Garak." "Now, you heard me Doctor." ... "You see, I pretend to be their friend and then I shoot you."
Again, whoever's idea of Garak this is, it's very revealing. Yes, he appears to turn on the Federation crew... before choosing their side.
"It's just something I read once in a book." "I'm sure."
But Garak here is far too foolish, engaging in flirtation with Julian when he should have been paying attention.
Real Garak wouldn't have gotten shot, here. He would've been too focused on the mission. Real Garak always saves his quips for after the danger has passed. But Julian thinks this is real Garak... and Garak goes down.
"Garak! Garak."
Julian rushes to his side, grabbing ahold of him.
"Doctor, I'm afraid I won't be able to have lunch with you today."
As Garak slumps, so, too, does Julian. Sisko grabs ahold of Julian, pulling him away, but it takes a few seconds for Bashir to be able to look away. Is Garak dead? Are they leaving him to die?
Remember, this is all a simulation. But for Julian, this is real. He held his friend as he died. His last words were to him—a sad farewell to their future.
Sisko's tugging him, but Jadzia pushes him, too. A part of Julian is trapped there, on that floor, fused to Garak in a way that Julian hadn't considered. But there's no time for mourning.
Yes, it's all just a simulation. Julian will lunch with Garak, again. And he does on-screen, only a few weeks later.
"There you are, Garak!" "Ah!" "I went past your shop, but it was closed."
And there Garak sits, at their table. Yes, they eat other places, but this is their spot.
"How was your trip to Klaestron IV?"
Aw! They know about each other's trips and movements. They care about one another.
"Garak, you're being paranoid. Are you saying the Cardassian government would have you killed if you left this station?" "My dear doctor, you do have a vivid imagination."
And Bashir is frustrated with Garak, again, but merely noneplussed, not upset. Also, in comparison to last episode this sounds like Garak, again. Weaving half-truths, not answering a straight question with a straight answer. Welcome back, buddy!
"Oh, good evening, Doctor. If you're finished here, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a late snack."
Ah, yes, the classic excuse of using food as an excuse to be together. Food is necessary to life, yet? Even snacks can be life-sustaining at times. Hell, as a breast-feeding mother, I felt like I had to eat 24/7.
He wants to tell only Julian, but ends up having to talk to Sisko. Sorry, Garak. I know it's a lot more fun to talk to the human you want to sleep with than the one you don't.
But then he learns—higher ups want him off the station. Not only would that kill him because of Tain's orders, but it would also mean no more snacking with (and dreaming of snacking on) the handsome human Doctor.
"The Quarters on this vessel are rather claustrophobic."
Now, this might be a deflection, but I bring it up because back in "The Wire" he mentioned how cramped the Infirmary felt. Are these breadcrumbs of his claustrophobia? Happy accidents? We'd have to ask one of the writers to know for sure!
"Garak, do you know a way we can stop this neurocine gas?" "The only way to do that is to destroy the life support system."
I love this. Because Julian is the one to ask, he offers the answer, and Bashir's the only one to truly get it the first time through.
Is this because of his superior intellect? Because he understands Garak better than any of the others do? Hard to know, but our dear would-be lovers are definitely shown as being in sync.
"Well, tell me, Doctor, what it is exactly about this situation that's making you smile." "You, Garak."
Garak felt his darling's stare and looked to meet his eyes. In another situation, he might've flirted instead of demonstrated confusion. And while the Cardassian doesn't really fluster, it's one time where I feel like the Doctor has caught him off-guard.
I mean, we all love to see our crush smiling at us for no reason... but Julian's timing really sucks ass.
"Hmm?" "Just wondering how many other tailors can rewrite Cardassian security protocols." "I wouldn't even venture a guess. Which reminds me, those pants you wante altered are ready to be picked up."
Julian chuckles at Garak's change of subject—well aware, by this point, that his Cardassian friend thinks he's slick. But, ooph, there's a flirty tone to Julian in this exchange.
And don't think Garak misses it. Oh, no! It's just his hands are a bit full of Cardassian security protocols, at the moment, so the handsome Doctor will have to wait.
Also, the Yank-who-lived-in-England in me is dying laughing. While to us Americans, Garak is talking about two-legged garments that typically reach from hip to ankle, that's the American definition of "pants".
For Brits, pants refer to "underpants". So, while the writer most likely meant the former, my brain goes to the latter and has to chuckle along with Julian.
Of course Garak would like to see Julian's underpants, again (c'mon... no way he waited outside Bashir's quarters in "Cardassians" while he dressed!). But the fact that Julian is taking advantage of Garak's services is also intriguing—does he pay in Latinum? Or does he pay... in other ways?
Alright, fine. I'll stop imagining and get back to the task at hand.
"Garak groveling in a corner. That alone makes my trip worthwhile." *Garak straightens* "Garak!" "Easy, Doctor."
In real-world time, it's only been a few weeks since Julian thought he lost Garak in the simulation. He doesn't want to lose him, again.
"I should have executed you years ago." "Oh, you tried, remember?" "Garak. This isn't helping."
Julian holds Garak's gaze, though we don't know Garak's response. But this is such a lover thing to do—hold one another accountable in a moment of high-stress.
It feels like there's some exchange we miss between them based on how long it takes Julian to look to Jadzia, but I don't mind that. I don't mind that we miss it. What matters is that we knew it happened.
It will be months before we see these two together on-screen again, and Garak must not hold that last exchange against Julian because he comes bearing gifts. That's right! It's Julian's 30th birthday episode.
"Well, if you like, I can help you set up an exercise program in one of the holosuites."
Escalating the relationship, again, I see. But, truly, we've gone from lunch once a week to trusting one another in tight places, to Julian frequenting the tailor's for alterations of trousers (seriously, Jules, just ask the replicator for shorter legs! We all know it's pretense to see your favorite Cardassian between nibbles).
Now, they're considering holosuite dates. Yup. That's how I'm going to look at it through my delusional glasses! Holosuite dates.
"Speaking of holosuites..."
I want to ravish you on Risa. Not what he said? Okay, fine, I'll get back to proper transcription.
"Happy birthday."
Is there a ribbon on that!? Elim Garak, you wrapped your pet human's present!?
"I know it's a few days off, but I wanted to give you your present early."
Y'all, the former spy and ruthless mind whose morals vascilate between dark grey and light great is a sweetie! And, frankly, Julian is a bit of an ass.
Did your parents never teach you to politely say, "Thank you"? Not, "I'm not into this because it's not my thing and it's not any fun" but a simple fucking thank you when the love of your life attempts to be thoughtful.
He even knew you liked mystery novels and tried to find something he thought you'd enjoy! Sure, it was a swing and a miss, but you didn't have to be that dismissive of the lizard!
At the same time... my reaction to the time my husband gave me a dolphin kite for my birthday (no, I have no idea how he got there, either) wasn't the best. So, I'll forgive you, Julian... for now.
"Is Lieutenant Dax throwing one of her surprise parties for you this year?" "Oh, so I'm told." "Well, you don't sound enthusiastic about that, either."
You freakin' cunning lizard. You accurately deduced that your darling Doctor's reaction wasn't entirely directed at the subject matter of the holosuite program, but something else entirely.
But rather than ask outright, the old spy pokes and prods to get to the point. Wow, who ever thought I'd write that sentence about this two and not mean it in inuendo!? Not me!
"I wasn't aware that humans saw growing old as a negative experience. On Cardassia, advanced age is seen as a sign of power, dignity."
There's some heat to this statement. Like, "Darling, I'm right here and you're not jumping on this powerful, dignified Cardassian?! What's wrong with you!?"
"And, look, Garak, in two days I turn 30. If I choose to be grumpy about it, that's my prerogative."
Garak supports however Julian wants to feel about it, and it feels very much spousal, this whole conversation. Like, "Whatever you say, darling". So, when Quark comes into the middle of the conversation, Julian has to shift out of spouse mode and back to Doctor mode.
"I hope you'll forgive the interruption." "Of course."
That was to Garak... why the hell was that to Garak? And why did Garak automatically respond as if this was the most normal thing in the world?
Is this still because of what Garak did to help Quark's old flame? Is this because Quark failed to obtain the merchandise when Garak's implant degraded? Or is it because Quark"s smart enough to notice when Garak is out with his boyfriend and doesn't wish to be disturbed?
"Goodbye, Quark." "Don't take it personally. He's turning 30."
Get. A. Room. You. Two. Julian glares at his husband, and I try to contain my giggles.
Look, I've heard they were told to tone down the Garashir at some point in the show. I don't know when that occurred, but I can tell you that these two are still steaming with chemistry and attraction.
"Garak!" "Doctor! What are you doing here?"
And just like the first time around with Garak not really being here, it's someone else's idea of who Garak is to Bashir. And this version of Garak is very handsy. So, once again, someone saw these two and thought, "Yup. Banging."
"I'll meet you back on the Promenade in half an hour. Be careful." "You, too."
Look, this probably wasn't intentional—or maybe it was, who the hell knows!?—but the way their hands linger as they pass off the equipment has me going feral. Because this is all in Julian's head.
It could just be that Siddig's fingers got stuck passing it off to Robinson and they're both so damn professional that they just kept going. But, shipper-girl likes to imagine there was some feeling in those fingers.
"I'm a part of you, remember? I know what you know. Well, maybe a little more." "Still the man of mystery?" "Oh, you wouldn't have me any other way."
Look, we will find out that this isn't a part of Julian, but an extension of the attack. But Julian is still flirting hard. Even in his mind, he wants to flirt with the Cardassian!
"I did some checking on Letheans. Their telepathic attacks are almost always fatal. I guess I was lucky." "Cardassians don't believe in luck, Doctor. You survived because you're strong."
And we can get into the debate about Julian's genetic enhancements and whether that played a part. But at this moment, Garak is simply impressed and Julian is grateful.
"One thing's for sure, you know, after experiencing life at a hundred plus, turning 30 doesn't seem that bad anymore." "In that case, happy birthday."
Bashir gratefully inclines his head to Garak, no longer grumpy about the big day.
"You know, Doctor, what I find most fascinating about this entire incident is how your unconscious mind chose people you know to represent the various parts of your personality... And what I find interesting is how your mind ended up casting me as the villain."
Julian searches for words. I don't think even he knew if it was truly him or the Lethean who cast Garak in the role.
"Oh, I wouldn't read too much into that, Garak." "Oh, how can I not?"
And Garak seems to assume that Julian's mind painted him as the villain, but I really think it was the Lethean who made that choice.
He needed it to be someone who Bashir would keep close through the whole ordeal, and they definitely came off couple-y in that opening scene!
"To think, after all this time, after all our lunches together, you still don't trust me... There's hope for you yet, Doctor."
Garak leans forward, grabbing onto Julian's forearm. And a coy smile spreads across Julian's face. That's the Garak he knows.
Only a few short weeks later, we've transitioned from Julian's complaints about Cardassian literature and mysteries to Garak's issues with Shakespeare.
I can hear my English and Drama teaching husband cringing from here. He is still amazed by my ability to perform iambic pentameter while still struggling to understand why it exists in the first place.
"But I'm sorry, Doctor. I just don't see the value of this man's work." "But, Garak, Shakespeare is one of the giants of human literature."
Oh, how the table has turned (well, Garak didn't know this one over, yet, but you know what I mean). For so long, Julian simply hasn't connected with Cardassian literature—despite his tries! And now Garak is having the same issue in reverse.
And, of course, the Garashir conversation is set up for what is yet to come. They talk about a great military man who couldn't see what was going on right under his own nose... hmmm.
And I'm worried Siddig is going to barf. If you pay attention to most scenes where actors eat, then tend to take small bites/sips if any at all. That's because this scene that takes minutes to watch takes hours and hours to shoot.
I'm uncertain if Deep Space 9 ran an A Camera and B Camera simultaneously, but even then, there are so many takes to get what will satisfy a director, most times.
So, every time Julian had to stuff his face. And that means poor Siddig had to scarf down that food over and over and over, again.
"Oh, you're fortunate. I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with." "Maybe you could finish those trousers I dropped off last week."
Hah! I am cackling with glee. A little while back I mentioned the whole US/UK pants/trousers thing without any remembrance that Bashir says "trousers" here. Yup!
Unless there was a special case... don't think Julian would need Garak to alter his Starfleet-regulation underwear. Now, is there was something special he wanted only for Garak's eyes, that's another thing entirely.
"You're going to give yourself indigestion."
Garak, you and I are on the same page!
"If you hadn't been so late, I could have enjoyed my lunch."
Awww. He waited until his boyfriend arrived to get his food! That's so sweet of him. Even if he's throwing it in Garak's face now.
"I have to go, and I'm sorry to leave you while you're still eating." "No, no. I'm done as well." "But you've hardly touched your plate!" "If you must know, I've been nibbling on Delavian chocolates all morning."
Babe, why are you standing so close to your human companion? This is one of those things I tried to point out to my husband early about Garashir—they tend to stand like personal space doesn't exist.
Of course, he pulled out the "It's 4:3 framing" argument because Deep Space 9 aired at a time when televisions were still literal boxes that you tried desperately not to knock over while adjusting the bunny ears to get the channel to clear up.
But then I showed him a couple scenes where the aspect ratio should have zero bearing on that kind of blocking that puts them in kissing distance, and he had to admit... they like to get up close and personal!
"Where did you get Delavian chocolates?"
And the tone completely shifts. We can infer that these are a delicacy, and something that Bashir likes, as well. For all their disagreements on literature, it seems that chocolates are their shared interest.
Julian, a moment ago quite peturbed, is now all smiles and intrigued at the idea of sharing in a chocolate or two with the Cardassian.
"Well, I promised my supplier I wouldn't tell, but since I deprived you of your dessert, I'd be more than happy to bring some by the Infirmary later this afternoon." "Why, thank you, I'd like that." "Until then, Doctor."
Garak inclines his head toward Julian, which we've seen him do before. And while Bashir has answered in kind, it has never been as enthusiastic as this time. Every ounce of annoyance he possessed seconds earlier is gone.
There's something so domestic about that. Matthew and I can have a disagreement, and then one of us makes the other laugh so loud it melts away.
"Are you alright?"
Garak lies on the ground, and while I suspect some of his reaction is well-practiced and conceived for the purpose of his mission, Julian doesn't know that. He leans across the Cardassian, then starts a quick check of essential points.
"But I'm afraid your pants won't be ready tomorrow after all."
Ah, yes, the reminder that he's a simple tailor. But why would someone blow up a simple tailor's shop?
"Could this attempt on your life have anything to do with the reason you were exiled from Cardassia?"
There's something so perfect about this question directed to Garak as Julian is out-of-frame, only his hands working on Garak to remind us he's there. Sure, Julian doesn't know the full truth, but he knows more than they do.
And that means Julian never told anyone what Garak told him. Oh, you two are just building and building your trust, aren't you?
Julian waits until the others leave to hand Garak a mirror to inspect himself, to open his mouth, to say anything at all.
"Someone should do a study." "A study?" "To try and figure out why some people can't bring themselves to trust anyone even if it's in their own best interest."
I like the way Garak looks up when Bashir says "anyone". Because, he does trust Julian far more than he should, far more than he thought he would allow himself to.
But a lifetime of lies is difficult to abandon. No, it's his security blanket wound so tight around him he struggles for breath, but will never admit it.
"Why is it no one ever believes me even when I'm telling the truth?"
And Julian launches into more American literature... a children's story. He hopes it will get through, but the secondary interpretation of the classic Boy Who Cried Wolf only supports their entirely different views on literature.
Julian hopes Garak will learn to trust people instead of lying so much they don't believe him. But the practiced spy has already demonstrated his viewpoint during "The Wire" when the story kept changing—never tell the same lie twice.
"I am not Doctor Bashir and we are not sparring amiably over lunch-"
Well, everyone seems to know about these lunches, don't they? Now, of course Odo would keep an eye on everyone, but I still rather love this call-out.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Garak." "So do I." "Is there anything you need me to do while you're gone?" "Like what?"
Water your plants. Walk the dog. Plan our wedding.
"If you go into my quarters and examine the bulkhead next to the replicator, you'll notice there's a false panel. Behind that panel, there's a compartment containing an isolinear rod. If I'm not back within 78 hours, I want you to take that rod and eat it."
Woah. I mean, I thought I was going a little too far with the wedding planning, but apparently not. I mean, if Garak's gonna be out here in public telling Bashir to eat his rod, the wedding bells might be a-ringin' soon after all!
"Eat it?" "Mmm." "You're joking." "Yes, Doctor. I am." "Very funny." "I thought so."
Gosh, the staging of this is so interesting. Julian is usually a hair taller than Garak, but with Garak up a step, he's towering over Julian. It somehow doesn't make Julian look small, but it does cast a different light over his face as he's forced to look up at the Cardassian.
"Then these are for you." "Dalavian chocolates. But these were meant for you." "I know. I thought you might need them more than I do."
And, finally, they've found a gentle love language between them—chocolate. Literature exchanges lead to rigorous debate, sure. And fun as that foreplay has always been, there's something so soft about this moment.
"Thank you."
Garak says it as softly as he's ever said anything. Julian came here to see him off, to give him a parting gift, to be the closest friend he's probably ever had. What started out as a hopeful hookup has become a relationship that will transcend the borders of convention the more it grows.
"Good luck." "Hmm."
And while Garak doesn't believe in luck, he doesn't take the moment to remind him. Instead, he carries that bit of sweetness with him as he walks the rest of the way through the threshold.
I tend to think Julian is the one thing he misses when he leaves the station behind. The shop is his cover, and he happens to be well-skilled at it, like he is a great many things. But we already know that living on that station is torture.
Julian is the one thing that makes him truly smile, truly feel. When he's with Julian, they debate, they banter, they argue, they laugh, they go through the range of emotions and form new connections and bonds.
But, still, his heart is forever Cardassia's. We'll get to that more later...
"He hides his true feeling almost as well as you do, Elim."
A rare compliment.
"Like I used to say, 'Always burn your bridges behind you. You never know who might be trying to follow."
Hmmm. And Garak decidedly does not burn his bridges when he says goodbye at the end of the series. So, might a certain Doctor follow? Eh, getting ahead of myself, again!
"Well, I suppose Garak has taught me to think of lunch as a sort of arena for philosophical debate."
Julian and Miles are best friends, no doubt! But Julian and Garak are friends, too, just different.
I have friends I can get into deep philosophical debates with. Hell, my husband is the one who gets the bulk of it! And it seems that it's dawning on Julian that he has a different type of friendship with Garak than he does with anyone else in his life.
It's not a grand acknowledgement of romance, but it's a start. Too bad his future partner is busy abandoning him for his fucked up father. And, yes, wanting to go home is a powerful thing.
But home is often more than a place. Garak hasn't gotten there, yet. And maybe he never will fully grasp that concept. After all, it's different when you're forced from your home than when you leave of your own volition.
Back to Julian, his looks whistfully to the table. Ugh, he misses Garak. He has come to expect and enjoy their banter.
"I take it there's still no word about Garak and Odo?"
Julian doesn't know that the word is bad. Honey, your BFF is off in the stars with his manipulative, narcissistic father and choosing his true home over you.
Poor Bashir just wants to know his friend—oy, we are stretching the meaning of that word, here—is okay.
The word from Miles isn't helpful, and the Chief departs without another word to his friend. Julian looks to the table, dejected and concerned.
But he doesn't know how much Garak longs for the approval of Tain—his father. And as someone who grew up with a co-dependent, narcissistic parent... I get it. I was in my 30's before I fully broke free. I don't think Garak ever did.
"The Founders? You want to go home to the Founders? But I thought you turned your back on them!" "I did. But they're still my people. I tried to deny it. I tried to forget."
And Garak cradles his head in his hand as the Changeling returns to his true form. He did his duty to torture Odo to extract information—but that glee that Tain described earlier simply isn't there.
Yes, Garak is good at what he does. He's clever. But there's a difference between doing what you think you must do and wanting to do it.
For the first time, we really have to wonder what Garak truly wants. He has always sworn allegiance to Cardassia and to the State. He has repeatedly chosen what he thought best for Cardassia, even if it wasn't what was best for him.
But is he the same Cardassian he was? Was he ever who Tain wanted him to be? And you might think, "What the fuck does this have to do with Garashir!?" But, for Garak, his heart and allegiances will always tear him from Julian.
"What could have happened?!" "I'm afraid the fault, dear Tain, is not in our stars but in ourselves." "What!?" "Something I learned from Doctor Bashir."
And there he is, quoting the Shakespeare he so recently quarreled over with Julian.
"Welcome back." "Oh, that looks painful."
I was just thinking we weren't going to see Julian's reaction to them coming aboard, and there he is, ready and waiting. Just as he saw Garak off, he's the one who is there to receive him.
Garak stumbles a little as he walks, holding onto the railing on the wall. Then, he stumbles right into Julian as the Defiant takes fire.
Later, Garak returns to the wreckage of his shop. When he blew it up, he didn't know if he would return. Now, he has nothing on Cardassia, and he also has nothing here.
And in an absolutely stunning shot, we see Odo standing in the doorway, in the reflection, almost a reflection of Garak himself in that they both wish they could go home, but both find themselves, again, on this station—though for different reasons.
"Garak, I was thinking that you and I should have breakfast together sometime."
I include this because everyone knows Julian is Garak's lunch date. Even in this moment, Julian's somehow a part of it.
And that stunning shot is nearly two minutes long. Two minutes of continuous camera on Robinson, displaying, yet again, what a tremendous performer he is. And it's simply too beautiful a shot not to mention. Brava/Bravo to whoever conceived and executed it.
That's the end of Garak in Season 3. Though they waste no time in bringing him into Season 4! We meet him, again, in the first episode of Season 4.
"What I can't understand is their inexplicable hostility toward me... Perhaps they decided they just didn't like me." "Not like you. Impossible." "You're right. As always, Doctor."
Is it bad that my first thought watching this scene was, "Well, Julian certainly knows how to get Garak on his back anytime he wants"? Probably. But, this blatant flirting is the fun bit. And the only bit we get of the two of them, though Garak has some delicious stuff this episode.
It would be eight aired episodes later before Garak and Bashir see one another, again, but, oh, what a fun one that is!
"Who's that?" "An uninvited guest. Excuse me."
The applause has me rolling. Like, "Very good, Doctor. Excellent performance. This for sure will convince them you're straight!"
Julian crosses over the body on the floor, past the shattered glass to where Garak watches, wearing his own smart tuxedo.
"Nice tux." "Thank you." "Now, get out!"
I love that even though he is pissed at Garak, right now, he still can't miss the opportunity to compliment him.
"Ever since you received this new program you spend virtually every free hour in the holosuite. But you haven't told anyone what the program is."
His delivery on that last bit is so delicious. There's a point to every word, like a sharp edge as he takes in the ridiculous, over-the-top nature of this supposed spy tale.
"Am I supposed to?" "No, no. No. But you're such a, forgive me, a talkative man and it's so unusual for you to have secrets."
I love how he reaches out to clutch Julian's forearm and doesn't let go until he finishes speaking. And, we will later find out that Julian does have a secret, though I don't know if at this point either actor knew it.
Sometimes the actor knows the big twist or big secret, like Kristen Bell and The Good Place. But other times, they don't, like Amanda Abbington in Sherlock.
It can change up how you play something as a performer. Sometimes it's for the better, and sometimes not. It's another two seasons before Siddig beautifully monologues about Julian's childhood.
But did the writers know? Like in Sherlock, there are plenty of cases where the Writers know something and haven't yet told the actors. Happens more often than you can think! It's one of those cases I truly wonder and wish I had an answer.
"I must have picked up that habit from you."
Flirting, again, Julian!? Are you hoping it'll appease him and he'll leave you be?
"Now, if you'll excuse me-"
Julian steps over the body, but Garak steps with him.
"Is this fantasy of yours truly revealing of your inner psyche?"
Did I fall in love with a total dork, Bond-wannabe? Seriously, there's a touch of disbelief in his tone.
"What?" "Is that why you're so protective?"
Garak steps closer to Julian—far closer than needed. My husband has brought up the "It was 4:3, they had to stand close together!" argument before, but when I showed him this one, he just laughed and shook his head.
This is boyfriend space. This is, "I'm gonna kiss you if you let me" space.
"Are you afraid that I'll find out some humiliating secrets of the real Julian Bashir?" "This is a fantasy. I'm not hiding anything." "Well, if you've nothing to hide, why not let me stay?"
Somehow, Garak still finds a way to talk with his hands without brushing Julian's chest—which, let's be real, is totally on his mind at all times—and Julian keeps his eyes locked on Garak's.
Garak notes Julian's lack of quick response and quirks his head to the site, a smile crossing his features. He knows he's got him where he wants him.
He once interrogated a man by staring at him for hours. Now, those same eyes turn puppy-dog as he entices his human bae to let him get his way. And Garak gets his way.
"All right." "Ah."
And the Bond girl wannabe is pissed. Not only is she not getting laid, now she has to compete for the sexy man's attention with a dashing Cardassian.
"Now, I have to be at work in two hours, and I'd like to enjoy myself, so keep quiet and don't rain on my parade."
That last bit is pointed. This is like when I have to remind Matthew not to make fun of me for watching super cheesy Christmas movies at Christmastime. I'm so stressed with work and family drama that I need something that just makes me smile.
Julian needs his would-be hubby to be chill so he can have some much-needed fun that doesn't require him to be everything he is. For a little while, he wants to be something he isn't just to unwind.
Gosh, I feel that. So, c'mon, Garak, let your boytoy have his fun.
"Parade?" "Nevermind." "Don't worry, Doctor. I can be very discreet. You'll barely know I'm here."
Are you thinking you're going to watch him have sex? Like, just how discreet do you need to be right now!? But, even though the Earth-ian reference went over Garak's head, he has committed to this, now. The Cardassian is along for the ride.
"She seemed so interested in your advances just a moment ago. I wonder what scared her away."
Julian and I have the same thought: Really Garak!? As if you don't know what scared her off?
"Oh, no. I do apologize."
Now, in another version of this show, Julian would realize that the reason that things just keep not working out with him with other people—virtual or otherwise—is that he's got it bad for a certain lizard man.
"You must be incensed! In fact, if I were in your shoes, I'd grab a bottle of champagne, and shoot me." "I can see I'm going to regret this."
First off, Garak's interpretation of Bond films isn't too far off my own circa 1990's era Bond. Also, way to be transparent about your kinks, Garak!
Now, Julian could just rescind the permission to hang out, but he doesn't. Why not? I don't think he's worried about being rude to the Cardassian. Perhaps, though, he wants to prove to himself that he has nothing to hide.
Garak claps a hand on Julian's shoulder as they walk.
"Don't worry, Doctor. We're going to have a wonderful time. After all, what could possibly go wrong?"
Classic line, here. Famous last words. If ever you're watching a movie or television show and someone utters a "what's the worst that can happen?" or "what could possibly go wrong?" just know—the worst is about to happen and everything is going to go wrong.
"You live here?" "That's right." "Decorate it yourself?" "The decor is appropriate for the period���1964."
I love how much fun Garak is having with this. He's taking it all in and soaking it all up. This place is far more cluttered than Bashir's quarters in real life, which Garak broke into and probably memorized in case he ever needed to plant something on the unsuspecting Doctor.
"I think I joined the wrong intelligence services."
It's so nice to be so far beyond Garak having to hide his past allegiances. Yes, there's intrigue left with the ole Cardassian, but I like how casual these two are conversing.
And I love how Julian is lounging. Maybe it's his character. Maybe it's simply the way he sits on a couch like this. Who knows!? But, is suggests an openness and swagger that isn't forced like his earlier characterizations, but simply an extension of who he is.
"Yes, this should do nicely. Though I'm not too sure about the collar." "It's perfect."
I have so many questions. Look, Holodeck stuff has always been a little fuzzy to me. Like, did they replicate some clothing? Or did they ask the system to assign them new clothing? Can they wear these clothes off the holodeck?!
And if these are completely new clothes, would this mark the first time Julian's seen the Cardassian in a state of undress? We know Garak woke Julian in his jammies, once, and that he's fitted him for trouser alterations at least twice. But there's been no opportunity for Julian to see Garak in a state of undress until now.
Also, this is such a spousal exchange. Garak is the one fussing over his attire and aching for perfection, while Julian is the assuring one, telling him that he looks fine.
"Very funny."
Aw, nice to see the return of this phrase from Julian. But, no, honey, this isn't a joke. Garak really isn't trying to rain on your parade.
"You're bleeding." "The Holosuite safeties must be off."
Ever the Doctor, Julian's concerned about his favorite patient before he has to save another life.
"Try to stay cool, Mr. Bashir."
I love how as soon as not-Sisko leaves, Julian looks to Garak, who is definitely concerned about this situation.
"I'd give you both some privacy, if I could."
Garak, my love, you know you can at least turn around. No, you want Julian to know you are watching him.
"Kiss the girl, get the key. They never taught me that in the Obsidian Order."
I love how impressed Garak is with Julian. He just picked a freakin' 20th century lock! Like, that isn't an essential course at Starfleet Academy!
"Yes, they might be killed, and that is unfortunate, but there comes a time when the odds are against you and the only reasonable course of action is to quit." "Quit?" "Yes!" "Is that what they taught you in the Obsidian Order? To give up when things get tough?" "As a matter of fact, they did."
It's a real argument. And I'm one of those that things disagreements are healthy in relationships. Now, this exact scenario is a bit specific, but it still stands. These two were due for their first real fight.
"Don't." "Or what? You'll kill me?"
He really doesn't believe Julian will pull that trigger. Much as Garak recommended shooting him earlier, that was before the security protocols went down.
"You'll be fine. It's just a flesh wound."
And here, Garak sees that Julian can make that call. Garak told him earlier that he might have to make a hard choice, that he might not be able to save everyone. And while I don't think Garak thought he'd be the one going down, he's impressed. And all the fire of their argument has died.
"That was awfully close. What if you'd killed me?" "What makes you think I wasn't trying?" "Doctor, I do believe there's hope for you, yet." "I'm so relieved."
Garak's impressed. Garak's surprised. Garak's really turned on.
I mean, Julian's dropped his voice into this husky range he hardly ever uses, and it is working its magic on the Cardassian. If they weren't in mortal danger, he might've asked the Doctor to take him right then, right there, against the wall.
"Now, we have to get to the control room. Are you coming or not?"
And like quarrelling lovers, they don't have to discuss or announce the end of the fight. Both of them know it's over, and Garak won't be calling for the door, again.
"Well, who am I to question Julian Bashir, secret agent? Lead on!"
The way that Cardassian is looking at that Human... he wants to lick him up with a spoon. He wants him in every way and none of them clothed. He's too horny to protest the mission.
Shoot me? Oh, darling, I'm yours! Look, everyone has their kinks. No shaming Garak's!
"I'm an intelligence agent,a nd if there's any one thing I've learned it is that there comes a point when the odds are against you, and there is no reasonable course of action but to quit."
Oh, darling, you were listening! Seriously. That's Garak's look as he watches with pride.
"How do you think I've managed to stay alive so long when all of my compatriots are dead? It is because I have known when to walk away."
I have a somewhat photographic memory...but it isn't that good. Yes, I'm aware this is a television program, Julian has a genetically altered brain, and it's all a flight of fancy. But, it's still dang impressive.
I mean, if Garak wasn't already horny for honey, he's positively bursting with desire, now!
"I suppose the only thing left to do, now, is to kill you."
Watch how Garak responds to that, ready to leap, surprised by how steady Julian is standing, waiting for the shot. It's only a simulation, sure, but one with the safeties turned off. The good Doctor could die. And he's not running from it.
"You can leave the Holosuite, now." "Thank you."
It's another long Garashir shot. But these two seasoned pros can handle it, and they carry each beat of the scene through—from returning to the banter of who's teaching who, to their next lunch.
"Lunch tomorrow?" "Of course."
Julian's the one to broach it, signaling he'll forgo a lunch on the holodeck if it means time with Garak. Then, Garak turns it on his head, offering to return to the Holosuite with him.
This is so fucking couple-y. How many times do we go back and forth with our partner, both trying to make the other happy? Both trying to make the other feel seen, and heard, and valued?
"Oh, I think it's safe to say Julian Bashir, secret agent will return." "Mmm."
And while it's not a full minute on this shot, it's still another delightful one where these two nail blocking with no markers I can see, and remind us just how good they are.
I think this episode was important for them both. The first time Julian stood up to Garak in "Cardassians" was important. He needed to demonstrate he wasn't subservient to the Cardassian, that he was a critical thinker.
This, too, was important. Because from the moment they relaized the safety protocols were disengaged, the game changed from harmless to extremely dangerous. And Garak didn't know if he could trust Julian to make the tough call.
Nothing in their relationship has ever put them in this place—where they are actually facing down death side-by-side.
When Garak chooses to save himself, it is a bit selfish, sure. He has made these choices, before, to stay alive. But once he knows that Julian is solid, he's solid.
Yes, he's horny as fuck when Julian grazes him with a projective object. But he is also impressed. If Julian was willing to shoot him, who he knows considers him a friend, then he's ready for whatever they are going to face.
Garak needed that assurance. And then when Julian was willing to let Sisko kill him if it meant saving everyone else, he got to see what a hero truly looks like. Like he said, he's no hero. But Julian just might be, at least in Garak's eyes.
The next time these two get to share a scene it's been months and... it's weird. Look, I never got the whole "Let's pair Garak with a probably-teenage girl" plan. It's creepy. It's weird. It's a fucked up plan to try to convince anyone he's straight.
Like, would he get with a woman? Sure. But that lizard wants to be with adults, please. And he's been pretty fixated on Bashir for a bit, hoping the good Doctor realizes his horizons have already widened and when he does, spreads his legs in kind.
As a girl who was 13 when this aired and who was assaulted by her grandmother's friend the year before, this just didn't play. So, maybe my perceptions are a bit colored on this one, but I just couldn't get behind it. It creeped me out.
Let's get back to flirty Garashir, shall we?
Now, we are setting up the above-mentioned quesitonable relationship. Now, my husband and father both said they always saw it as Garak wanting to take care of her in a parternal way. But as a girl, I saw it as something far seedier. Let's see what I think on this watch, shall we?
Y'know what, screw it, I'm just focusing on the Garashir. Because these two are being adorably married right now!
Garak and Bashir are doing something social besides lunch. They're attending a sporting event together! And this definitely feels like one of those things that one attends for the sake of one's spouse.
Matthew and I are blessed to have a lot of overlap in our interests, but there are times one of us is in a sitution—usually Matt—where there are definitely other things he could be doing, but his want to be with me overrides his desire to be elsewhere.
In short—Garak tagged along for his boytoy's choice of entertainment.
"Stop watching her."
Oooh, someone's jealous! Julian, darling, Garak had to watch you make out with half the senior staff. You can simmer down about him glancing at someone.
"What does she expect? She's the only Cardassian woman on the station. She's must know she's bound to attract some attention." "Some, yes. Yours, no."
Wow, Julian! Getting a bit possessive of your favorite Cardassian, are we? Or do you worry Garak's just trying to stir shit up with his favorite rival, Gul Dukat?
And that pointed look Bashir offers Garak reminds me of the last time he had to be firm with Garak (that time in front of Gul Dukat) about something. This is partner-level shit.
"I simply thought it would be polite to say hello, but clearly you don't think I'm capable of conducting any kind of pleasant discourse without some kind of nafarious ulterior motive."
Garak is getting a bit defensive and worked up about this. But, I'm focused on Julian, who is giving the, "really, now!?" look that any spouse knows well. Like, we're arguing about this now!?
And Julian gets so into Garak and giving him his full attention that he misses the big finish.
"What happened?" "A brilliant move on the part of the Major. You should have been paying attention."
Yeah, you cannot tell me Garak suddenly developed a love of the game. He did that to be bitchy because he's annoyed with his human boytoy.
Garak is used to having the upper hand in most situations. There are a few who he treats on a more equal footing—most notably Odo, Quark, and Bashir—and I find it interesting that those are the only three actors I truly think can match Robinson in skill and performance.
This is not to speak ill of any of the other performers. Not at all! But there are always standouts in any production. As mentioned before, that's how I first noticed my husband on the stage—he was mezmerizing.
Andrew Robinson is exceptional. The layers to his performance are what makes Garak really pop off the page and onto the screen. Garak was my father's favorite character of the series and he was not even a series regular, but a guest star whose impact on the show is unmistakeable.
Julian was my favorite character of the show, as mentioned before, but part of what made him thus was Siddig's performance. We'll get to some more meaty episodes for him later, but he has that defining trait of every great actor—we believe him.
So, when you put these two on-screen together, it's exciting. Even in this scene where we're setting up Garak and Gul Dukat's daughter, I can immerse myself in the relationship between these two characters because they never lose sight of all the moving pieces in the scene.
Yes, there's a sports match. Yes, we are reminding a 90's audience of who the fetching young Cardassian woman is. But there's also the interpersonal relationship between Garak and Bashir that is at play. How they relate to one another as characters informs how they react to the outside stimuli. As I said—masters.
"Garak to Doctor Bashir, I need a medical emergency team sent to my shop immediately."
There's so much at play, here. This is just expertly written. Someone who really understood Garak's character.
Annnnd, I just checked and it's Robert Hewitt Wolfe, again. Of course! But, honestly, this just encapsulates so much about Garak in about three seconds.
Yes, he is calling his darling directly and not the Infirmary. But that's not just because he thinks Bashir is cute. Let's break this down.
First off, Garak immediately reaches for Odo's combadge instead of leaving the shop to get help. That's quick thinking. Second, he called Julian directly and then asked him to send an emergency medical team to his shop.
Garak is thus reaching out to someone he knows will take him seriously, who won't ask questions, and by being vague, the Cardassian has protected Odo's privacy.
Think about it—he doesn't know where Bashir is when he calls. What if he is with a criminal who might want to take advantage of Odo being out of commission?
This is all of Garak's skills at play, here. And it's all done in about three seconds. Fucking masterful.
"As I recall, Proconsul Merrock was poisoned." "Funny, I don't remember that. But, then again, so many Romulan dignataries died unexpectedly that year." "Must be hard to keep them all straight."
Wait... is Bashir in on this? I mean, I imagine he must have some idea of why the Cardassian was allowed on the trip, right?
"Maybe we should let the Constable get some rest."
Oooh, he's got his "honey, not now" voice on! So, Julian's not in on the game. Which means a moment ago he really was getting caught up in the story, true or not.
But with that glare, he is clearly trying to silence the Cardassian. And it drips with the sexual tension between two people who are banging and look forward to some makeup sex after the argument, or two people who probably should be banging to cut through some of that sexual tension.
And after Odo dismisses him, you can hear Julian hiss out an annoyed sigh. It's not at Odo—it's at Garak. Because he's blaming Garak for winding up his patient.
So why does Bashir think Sisko allowed Garak on this mission? Out of the goodness of his heart?
"How do I look, Doctor?" "Does it matter?"
Honey, your Cardassian lover is asking you if he looks cute and you respond with does it matter?! What is wrong with you!? Tell the man he looks fashonable and kiss him full on the mouth, already.
"Then, I'll be right outside... it can wait, Garak." "Of course."
It's another case of Julian getting the upper hand with Garak—and he lets him. Oh, we all know that Garak doesn't willingly give up the upper hand unless he wants to. And he likes when Julian is the dominant one between them.
Yes, there are times when Garak likes to be the authority—always trying to teach Julian things. But theres a shift in Our Man Bashir where Garak realizes he may have a thing or two to learn from the handsome Doctor.
I think it's the one relationship in his life where he enjoys someone else being on top. *ahem* And, no, I didn't write that sentence intending the inuendo. But once it was written, it was right there!
It takes until episode 8 of Season 5 for us to see Garak, again. Julian beams onto the Runabout and does a cursory glance over the crew. His eyes hang noticeably on Garak.
No, I'm not making this up, folks. He really does linger on looking at Garak before shifting to the crew member nearest him to start scans, which is what he should do.
"Could these stimuli cause more serious injuries?" "I don't think he could spontaneously break a bone, but he could certainly stop his heart or break a key blood vessel in his brain."
What the fuck was that, Siddig!? I mean, rewatch that last bit. I know I did several times. Yes, Bashir is listing off factual information, but at the very end there is a tinge of sadness.
Because while only Garak has demonstrated this so far, it could happen to any of the four. But he's still talking solely about Garak. And he's looking right at him.
That has to be actor choice, right? That he played it with such softness and sadness while looking in the direction Garak would be.
Fun Fact: Andrew Robinson likely wasn't even in the room. The way film and television is staged, the best way to do it is to shoot out the actors you don't need. Start with the angles that need the most people and then whittle down to the shots with the fewest cast members.
So, those eyelines are often an actor looking at nothing. Even looking at nothing Siddig lends a weight to that fraction of a moment that has me kicking my feet, giddy as a schoolgirl.
Another few episodes, and we get to the episode where we have the Changeling playing Bashir.
Now, the last episode Julian was wearing the uniform the real Julian is wearing later, so I like to think that the Bashir who was so concerned about Garak was our Bashir, and that he was replaced shortly after.
Timeline-wise, that about lines up. And while we will come to know that the Bashir that Garak addresses on the Runabout isn't our man, Garak doesn't know that at the time.
"I really must remember to stop underestimating you, Doctor... You've come a long way from the naive young man I met five years ago."
A compliment. Trying to smooth things over with his darling.
"They're releasing him from isolation." "Good." "Who?" "A friend."
And as they shove him into a wall, who should look up but the real Bashir. And who does he see? Garak. I mean, look at the laser focus here. Julian's eyes don't shift once they find Garak's.
And as Julian pricks his finger for blood, it's Garak who watches with the most interest. He needs confirmation that this is his dear Doctor.
And as soon as they are reunited... they can't stay apart.
"I should never have come here. I should have let that monster die forgotten and alone." "Frankly, I'm glad you came. Misery loves company."
And Julian truly is miserable in a way he's probably never known before. But now he has one of his best friends, at least, in this darkness.
"All my life I've done nothing but try to please that man. I let him mold me, let him turn me into a mirror image of himself. And how did he repay me? With exile."
I know this doesn't seem like it's Garashir coded, but it is. And I will explain why... in two episode's time.
Look, you don't have to wait two weeks and watch a thirty second clip looking for clues! It's just a scroll or two down and I'll explain why I transcribed Garak's rant about his father.
Yes, this is a spoiler-sprinkled Meta, so if you didn't know: Tain, you are the father!
"But I forgave him. And here in the end I thought maybe, just maybne he could forgive me."
This takes me right back to The Wire and a dying Garak saying he needed to know that someone forgave him. So, we can infer that if anyone's opinion matters anywhere close to his father's to him... it's Julian's.
"I've been a fool. Let this be a lesson to you, Doctor. Perhaps the most valuable one I can ever teach you. Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all." "If that's true, it's a lesson I'd rather not learn."
Listen to the softness of Bashir's voice. Look at how he looks over Garak in that moment, clearly pitying whatever drove him to say such a thing.
And the director gives them a beat, here, where they regard one another before the moment is broken. Look how Garak pulls his head back ever so slightly and his eyes widen as he takes in Bashir's words.
There's a charge here between the actors. A moment. A beat. A breath where something is given that others might have taken.
A lesser director might have broken the moment too earlier. A lesser actor might have missed what was there. This is about so many factors coming together to deliver a beat that means something.
Great television isn't about awards and acclaim—it's about something undeniable on the screen that is the culmination of hundreds of folks working together to produce something that steals our breath.
You don't see the gaffers, electricians, camera folks, Production Assistants, Craft Services people, writers, directors, makeup artists, hair stylists, costumers, Directors of Photography and more that bring every second of screen to life. But you see their work without realizing how much went into it.
That beat between Bashir's line and the door opening is important. It tells us who Julian is and the lines he isn't willing to cross. This is a lesson he refuses to learn. And Garak doesn't hate him for it. No, he envies him.
Julian's optimism and can-do attitude sometimes drive Garak nuts. Garak tends to think he lives closer to reality than those who drank the Starfleet Kool-Aid (or Root Beer, as the case may be). But there are times he must think, wouldn't it be nice?
"I thought you might want to know... if you wish to speak to Tain, do it now before it's too late."
There are no words exchanged between Julian and Garak. The Cardassian looks briefly to him before taking off for the door, the human close behind.
"Everything's gone dark. I can't see you. Are you alone?"
Garak could ask Julian to leave. But he doesn't. He doesn't know what type of conversation is about to come... and yet he trusts Julian completely.
We've talked about trust and Garashir before, back on the Holodeck. Of course, Garak hasn't had many people he could trust in his life. But much as he wishes he was as hardened as his old man—he's a bit sentimental.
Sentimenal about Mila. Sentimental about Tain. And sentimental about Julian. He's even started to care for other members of the crew... but not like this. No, this is intimate. This is trust.
Garak looks back to Bashir, making it clear that he wants him there, that he needs to be silent, that he's not asking him to leave. Julian widens his eyes briefly to let Garak know the message was received.
"Yes. There's no one else but you and me."
Tain goes down his list of grievances, and Garak tells him everything's in order.
"All your enemies are dead."
He says this, again, to Julian. It feels like part of the show. Are they really all dead? Who's to say. But Garak tells Tain they are.
"Then you can die happy... unless you still consider me your enemy."
He's fishing for that apology he so desperately wants. And the view shifts to a three-shot. It's the first time we get a really good look at just how intimate this is, Julian looking on as these two men share a private conversation.
It's an interesting choice to pull out right then, right before it gets incredibly personal. The staging reminds us of just how close Bashir is to the action.
"I'll do as you ask... on one condition. That you don't ask me this favor as a mentor or a superior officer, but as a father asking his son." "You're not my son!" "Father! Father, you're dying. For once in your life, speak the truth."
Julian leans forward, taking in the new information, looking between the two of them. He's absorbing what Garak's just done—and he's realizing it's intentional. Garak purposefully let him in on one of his greatest secrets.
For all the times Julian asked for truth and found it wanting... here Garak offers it wholeheartedly.
For goodness sake, we never even saw Julian comment on Garak's first name. But Tain calls him "Elim" repeatedly, here. So, if Garak hadn't figured Julian already sussed out that little nugget, he was willingly offering that Elim wasn't a friend at all... but him.
Death beds are often a place of truth, right? But for Garak, the truths told weren't the ones he needed to hear, but the ones he wanted to tell.
"I should have killed your mother before you were born. You have always been a weakness I can't afford." "So you've told me. Many times."
And now the impact of Julian's words hit the viewers anew—Garak learned the lesson of sentimentality as weakness from his Father. He tried to pass that lesson on to the person whose opinion matters most next to Tain's—and Julian rejected it.
Bashir stopped the cycle. And I think that caught Garak off-guard. Like on the Holodeck when he admitted there were some things the Obsidian Order never taught him... he's learned something, today, from the good Doctor.
And, look, I know this is a Garashir meta, but I have to call out Andrew Robinson for this scene. It's fucking gorgeous.
We already know he is just one of the finest actors to ever grace Star Trek with his presence. But the weight of this whole scene hits so hard. The emotions. The breaths. The emphasis. The line reads. Oh, it all hits the mark.
My mother never said, "I'm proud of you" when I was growing up. I rarely saw pride on her face, even. There was always some problem, some critique, some improvement. She wanted me to be like her, and lamented when I wasn't.
She's not the same person, now, but that doesn't change the past. And in this moment with Elim and Enabran where the son hears his father utter the words that he was proud of him. Oh, it aches in a way that only those of us who grew up craving that approval and always falling short despite our best efforts can grasp.
And Robinson nails it.
Julian hears this whole exchange. He hears every word. And he only speaks after Tain has fully faded. It's a single word:
"Garak."
It's wise of the production team to keep Bashir out of this intimate exchange until after Tain dies. We don't need the distraction of seeing Julian there.
Yes, yes. I love Julian, too! But that wasn't his moment. And the way it was edited and shot was brilliant storytelling that allowed us to invest in that intimate moment before pulling back out to the continuing plot of the episode.
I seem to remember something about non-Cardassians seeing a dead Cardassian body, so it's appropriate that Garak covers Tain up before anyone else comes in—but Julian saw.
This. Is. Trust. This is family. This is an intimacy that transcends, "I wanna fuck this guy" from Episode 1. Garak wanted Julian to know him in a way that probably only his mother and father ever did.
Tain is now gone. Mila is on a planet he cannot visit. But he still has Julian. And now Julian knows one of his greatest truths. Beyond things he's done and places he's been, the truth of being known for who he is... that is truly dangerous. But Garak trusts Julian.
And though the two Klingons don't know exactly what has transpired, they do know that Julian was present as Tain died. They do knot that whatever Garak had to say to Tain, Julian was present.
As much as Odo knew better than to invite Garak for lunch, I think Worf knows better than to ask why Garak would allow Julian to be present for such a thing. Really exemplifying the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" of the era.
And if you're too young to remember that particular Military Policy, I'd recommend checking out the Wikipedia entry on it, because it's pretty thorough.
By the next episode, we're all ready to learn how they get out of this one. And while the gang explains to the newcomers what needs to be done, we get treated to this adorable two-shot of Garak and Bashir.
Look, there is no reason for them to be in this cute two-shot besides the fact that they look adorable together. We trade Garak out for Worf, which isn't as cute (no offense, Michael Dorn! You're amazing!).
"You, on the other hand, my dear Mr. Garak are a man of many hidden talents." "Mmm."
Look, I know we're all on a hurtling asteroid waiting to die, but did anyone else's brain get broken by that statement?
We've had at least four "My Dear Doctor"s, but this is our first "My Dear Mr. Garak". Also, the return of "Mr. Garak" for the first time since the first episode. And my brain totally added the classic fortune cookie add-on of "in bed" to Julian's statement.
Especially with Garak's reaction? C'mon! That's a total, "you would know, dear" look!
"As of today, Cardassia has joined the Dominion."
For the brief second that Garak thinks he's going to be released, he looks back to Bashir. And the two have an entire conversation with glances.
There's the, "Is this okay? Should I go?" and the "Yes, dear, go!" and the "Alright. I'm going". And I can't help wondering if this was in the script.
This one owes its existence to Ira Steven Behr and (of course) Robert Hewitt Wolfe. So, one of them could tell us, of course! But it's one of those moments that is so amazing, but really could have come from anywhere.
An actor making a choice. A director spotting an opportunity. A writer making a point.
Wherever it came from, I love it. We don't see what Worf thinks about this possibility because we don't need to. Garak and Bashir have the conversation without words and say all that needs to be said and heard.
Side Note: Before we get into the first "Garak in the wall" scene, I have to call out Alexander Siddig (again) for how fucking dead-eyed he is as the Changeling. Like, one shot and I'm reminded that this is not our Julian and that fucker needs to die. Oy vey!
"Garak? How's it coming along?"
I love that Julian is the one who opens the door. Julian is the one who keeps the path out open. Julian is the one who sits there, calling in to Garak. And I love that he's playing with his fingernails when the scene opens.
It's those bloody details that have always stood out to me about performers. When they do something so human in the midst of all the posturing of performance. When the character becomes as real as the actor. It could just be that Siddig was annoyed by a hangnail and I'm reading too much into it, but I love it, nonetheless.
Also, the establishing shot of Garak is so gorgeous. That pan up? The full body shot so we can see that there's no room to sit, no room to rest, no room to shift into a more comfortable position.
We can visually connect with the claustrophobic nature of the setting even before we know Garak has an issue with tight spaces.
And that lighting. They found a way to make that read as a single light source in such a beautiful, believable, and stark way. We see the darkness threatening to envelop Garak if not for that blossom of lights at his face.
Yes, I know this isn't necessarily Garashir. But we need to know what this space looks like for later.
"Oh, come on!"
Julian is anxious to get Garak out of the wall, and this is before he knows about the Cardassian's claustrophobia.
They already said that Garak was taking too long because they don't want him to be caught in the wall. The guards are already asking questions, so they need to get him out.
As soon as they can get him out, Julian is there to help him stand up, holding onto him, being there for him.
"That was thoroughly unpleasant." "Are you alright?"
Until Garak takes a step back with his patented "I'm fine" lie, Julian still has hold of him with both his hands.
"It's just much hotter in there than I thought. I go ta little light-headed."
Elim [No Middle Name] Garak! That didn't work before Julian had a better understanding of Cardassian biology and physiology. Do you really think you can fool him, now?
Before Garak can finish the sentence, Julian has his hands on him, again, this time checking his pulse. And I cannot recall him ever doing so this way before. Really putting his new knowledge to work!
But theres also the steadying hand on Garak's shoulder. It reminds me of him trying to put a hand on that same shoulder in The Wire and Garak shying away in his withdrawal state. Here, he doesn't move away.
"Maybe you should wait until tomorrow."
Julian's hands trail off of Garak, but they don't fall away. They glide down him before Garak allows his fear to turn to anger.
"Do you want to get off this hell hole?" "You know I do." "Then let me get back to work."
The couple-y bickering is back. And they are standing way closer than needed for this shot, 4:3 framing, indeed! But Julian is in protective mode—both the doctor in him, and the lover friend.
"Rest. For five minutes. And from here on in, you can take a 15 minute break every hour. Doctor's orders."
Garak nods. He's relenting. He's giving in. He'll take whatever break he can get and he knows Julian well enough now to know that he won't give up on him.
But look at the concern in Julian's eyes. He knows Garak isn't telling him everything. He doesn't know what Garak is concealing this time. But it's incredible how this mirrors The Wire.
In both cases, Garak is trying to conceal something about himself and lashes out at Julian when the Doctor tries to push the issue.
But this time when Julian tries to help, Garak lets him. He doesn't fully let him in. But he doesn't push him away, either.
"I'm sorry, but that's absolutely unacceptable. I'm under enough strain as it is. I can't have you quitting on me!"
There are already tears in my eyes. For anyone who has ever had a panic attack and wishes desperately their rational mind could circumvent it, this is familiar.
I've struggled with panic and anxiety attacks my entire life. But growing up, I wasn't allowed to show negative emotion. I had to learn to contain it as best I can.
But no matter how much your rational mind protests, that suffocation comes and you find yourself trapped in its grip, unable to escape. And this is another case where you can trust your actor with the material, and he's going to fucking deliver.
Robinson is talking to a dying light. He has no one to feed him anything, to offer him anything, to draw focus in case he should flub it. No, the seasoned and practiced actor monologues on a Star Trek show to a dying light and to himself.
"Your friends are nearby."
Truth. Garak speaks truth. And even if some part of him isn't willing to trust it, he closes his eyes as he internalizes it. His friends are nearby.
Because in this tight, enclosed space... there's no one to overhear. There's nobody listening. There's nobody for whom he has to perform. These words are for him and him alone. And in them he speaks of Julian and Worf as friends.
I won't transcribe the whole thing, but even from the outside, the others know something is wrong. Of course, it's Bashir who shimmies into the wall to join Garak.
"Garak, you have to stop. You're making too much noise. Garak!" "The light. The light went out."
And that's when Julian starts to put together the pieces. He sees the vacant look in Garak's eyes. He notes the sweat and strain.
"I know. Come on. I think you can take your break a little early."
Julian puts an arm around Garak, clasping his hand on the Cardassian's shoulder. And as they shimmy, Bashir's thumb grazes in a comforting manner over it.
Garak doesn't fight him. In The Wire, when Bashir tried to comfort him and touch his shoulder, he jerked away. But here, even as he is not fully himself, he allows the Doctor to care for him.
Growth. Character development. Trust.
"We have to come up with a new escape plan." "That won't be necessary."
Julian's eyes shift to Garak with immediate concern as the Cardassian stands up. He doesn't move the blanket, but allows it to slough off his body like old skin.
A similar blanket covered his father's dead body. But as Garak sits up, he rejects that fate. It isn't the defiant move of throwing the blanket away, because that's not what Garak is doing, here.
He isn't trying to be the hero. He's trying to overcome his fear long enough to save them.
Where before he might have tried to save himself, he's trying to save all of them. He could program the runabout transporter code just to get him out of there. Garak of Season 1 or 2 might've done that. But this Garak has friends—friends he wants to save.
It isn't about being the hero. It's about each of them doing what they can to help each other get out of there alive.
"I just have to finish what I started. After all, a verse about the Cardassian who panicked in the face of danger would ruin General Martok's song." "That would be unfortunate."
And while Julian is further back in the shot, I cannot help but notice the way he looks at Garak—with a touch of awe and pride.
"Now, if you'll excuse me... my dungeon awaits."
Julian and Garak exchange the briefest of glances as the former moves to open the hatch, again. They're past the point of needing words. Over and over, this episode demonstrates how far they've come on that front.
They know one another. They trust one another. They've learned when to push and when to pull back. It's an incredible foundation for a romantic relationship, right?
Season One Garak was looking for a good fuck and a little less loneliness. Season Five Garak knows the value of friends—especially his friendship with the good Doctor.
As Worf fights, likely to the death, Julian is rocking and wringing his hands on the cot as Garak works in the wall.
"Can we get him out?" "No time."
And Julian knocks twice on the wall to prepare Garak. Garak closes his eyes and steadies himself. No words needed.
"Take it to maximum warp, Garak. We've got to get a message to the station."
And he leans over Garak's shoulder as the Cardassian gets them the hell outta Dodge. What they've just endured was terrible. They may never speak of it, again. But the trust they've forged over the last five years is only deepening.
Which makes it mildly infuriating we never get the full response from Garak to Julian's big secret. Yes, he gets to tell Miles. But I want to talk about that scene a bit.
And, yes, this is what I mentioned about fathers and pride coming back around from literally two episodes earlier. Tain was a man who was rarely proud of his son, who practically disowned him to protect himself from a "weakness" that he couldn't afford.
As we mentioned, I grew up not really hearing "I'm proud of you". I never felt like I was good enough. I tried to mold myself into who I was supposed to be.
And it was my darling husband who helped me learn to stand up for myself in my 20's so by the time the children came around in my 30's I was strong enough to protect them properly from those who hurt me.
Now, we get a glimpse into what it was like to be little Julian.
"The word you're looking for is 'unnatural' meaning 'not from nature'."
Yes, we're going to get into it. Partially because it's such a fucking beautiful scene, practically a monologue, delivered by a skilled actor who didn't need a thousand cuts to get it right.
And, let me say this—sometimes a thousand cuts is just what a scene needs. But the Director deftly understood that there was strength in the stillness, here. Without a series of cuts, we can really focus on Julian (and Colm Meaney doing brilliant reaction-without-drawing-focus in the background).
"'Freak' or 'Monster' would also be acceptable. I was six. Small for my age, a bit awkward physically, not very bright. In the first grade when the other children were learning how to read and write and use the computer, I was still trying to tell a dog from a cat, and a tree from a house. I didn't really understand what was happening. I knew that I wasn't doing as well as my classmates. There were so many concepts that they took for granted that I couldn't begin to master and I didn't know why. All I knew was that I was a great disappointment to my parents."
My Middle child is Autistic, ADHD, Auditory Processing Disorder, suspected Reading Processing Disorder, with Anxiety Disorder. In second grade, he was reading at a Kindergarten level. His twin excelled and he struggled.
And I, as mother, repeatedly told them (and their little sister) how proud I was of them, not for a grade on a paper but for who they were. And I meant it.
Little Julian never had that acceptance.
The Flowers for Algernon part of my brain wonders how jarring it must have been for Julian at nearly 7 to know how he'd understood the world before, and then to go through the process of seeing it anew. He transitioned from grasping for concepts others easily understood to moving beyond them.
But he never had a choice. He couldn't understand what was being done until it had been done.
By the way, that shot of Julian? Where Siddig acted his ass off? Nearly two whole minutes of performance. It's Masterful.
Garak and Julian both grew up with parents who were impossible to please, who wanted their sons to do what they would have chosen for their lives. Neither man had a good relationship with his father. So, though Bashir and Garak are set up as very different—and in some ways they truly are—there are other places where they can relate to one another that are special, intimate.
"What's the matter?" "Well, it's just that lately I've noticed everyone seems to trust me. It's quite unnerving. I'm still trying to get used to it. Next thing I know people are going to be inviting me to their homes for dinner."
Because everyone knows better than to invite you anywhere for lunch. Right, Garak? That's Bashir time! Okay, fine. I know it's a bit of a reach. But that was my first thought when he said, "Dinner". So, into the Meta it goes.
"It's hard to believe he's the same man who attacked us." "In a way... he's not. The drug brought out the worst parts of him and allows them to take over. He wasn't in control of his actions."
This is a very... interesting way of attacking this issue. I mean, accountability is a very important thing, and I feel like we're kinda skirting that, here. And there is going to be an inquest. I'm just not a fan of the framing, I suppose.
But, if I pull out of the part of my brain that tries to analyze societal impact of Star Trek and its eras (I gave an entire persuasive speech about Star Trek at University, so I come by this honestly), I see a man trying to protect Garak.
Yes, we set up the "trust" others have for Garak in the beginning of the episode and showed how swiftly it could be broken. There was a throughline, here.
That's it for Garak and Julian in Season 5. Season 6 gives them the bitchiest of bitchy moments and I love the writers for it! Let's see, that would be... Ira Steven Behr and Hams Beimler. Thank you both for your service.
"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to give up hope, Doctor."
Oh. My. Gosh. Look, I'm bloody asexual, but even I can see that this is the most snack-a-licious Julian has ever looked, and he's sauntering right up to Garak with a lot of skin exposed. Oy vey!
And he walks right by because he is having none of this shit while he's out there trying to save lives.
"I would think that all those lunches we've shared would have entitled me to preferential treatment."
Are you two gonna kiss? You're standing like you're gonna kiss. Just sayin'... it might be good for you... for your morale? If you... y'know... kissed. I mean, come on this blocking is not to account for the 4:3 format.
"Look, I have 12 wounded officers and crewmen out there, all of whom are in a lot worse shape than you, Garak." "Well, if you're trying to cheer me up, it's working."
I had to add that comma between "up" and "it's" and I wish I knew if that was Robinson or the script because it's just so bloody... Garak. Taking those breaths and breaks where nobody else would.
Also, can we talk about this shot!? This is a continuous shot that follows the two of them to multiple blocking points in the room while changing their positioning, the dominance of one over the other, the framing of one closer to the camera, etc.
It's bloody masterful. You have to have lighting in all those areas so they aren't in weird shadow. You have to have the blocking marked out so they aren't out of focus. You have the have actors who can carry that long a shot without needing to reference a line or struggling with the giggles.
"I'll admit the odds are not good, but they coudl be worse." "Ah, let me guess. You've used your genetically enhanced brain to calculate our chances for survival... I'm really not interested Doctor. Ever since it's become public knowledge that you're genetically engineered, you've used every opportunity to show off."
First off, this reminds me that we never got Garak's reaction to that whole revelation, and I ache for it. It would have been interesting to see if Garak suspected all along, or if he was truly proud Julian hid something, even from him.
Also, damn this bitch is salty. Honey, it's okay that you're not always the smartest in the room. Your human boytoy can one-up you sometimes. It's not a bad thing.
And I love how Julian keeps working, even adjusting Garak's head gently with his fingers as he tries to repair the damage to his head. There's a "darling, just do what I need you to do" feeling to it.
Seriously, this is a couple bickering. And if Cardassians flirt by bickering, Garak is waving pheremones thick enough to nosh on as aphrodesiac appetizers to an adventurous night.
And after an entire minute of a single shot, we change angles. Damn, I love these long Garashir shots!
"You're certain about that figure?" "Do you want me to take you through the entire set of calculations?" "Not really."
Bashir smirks as he shifts past Garak, and you can feel just how much they are enjoying this. Their time for rigorous debate at lunch has long since passed. Hell, we haven't seen them share a dining table in years, now.
Yes, the Changeling and Garak sat together, but that doesn't count. It was Season 4 when last these two sat and ate together, and now we're at the top of Season 6.
So, it's not surprising Garak has found a new topic for spirited conversation.
"'Genetically Engineered' indeed." "Excuse me?"
Okay, the way Julian pops into frame there cracks me up. Like, he had to answer that and Garak knew he would. Garak is baiting him into debat and Julian is falling for it. And at 4:06 we started another long shot of these two.
"Well, look at you. You act as if you haven't a care in the world. It's exactly that kind of smug, superior attitude that makes people like you so... unpopular." "Are you trying to insult me?
Yes, darling. Flirting with you helps distract him from all y'all's impending doom.
"A 32.7 percent chance of survival, I call that insulting." "Don't take it so personally, Garak. It's strictly a matter of mathematics." "No, it's strictly a matter of our lives. You're not genetically engineered. You're a Vulcan."
I love how Julian appears to rest his arm on Garak as he scans him, likely making sure that the treatment he did a moment earlier took, despite Garak's inability to stay still.
"If I'm a Vulcan, then how do you explain my boyish smile?"
Damn, Julian! You are finally catching up to the flirting, here. And I love that the smile he offers him definitely has the edge of flirtation to it. This isn't his dopey grin when he watches Garak rewrite Cardassian security code, or his big smile when Garak joins a mission.
Look at the way Julian's eyes seek out Garak's.
"Not so boyish anymore."
And, oh, you can hear the way he rocks back on those boots before sauntering off... a few feet away. Like, seriously, where the fuck is he going?
It's not about the destination. He really just did that to be petty to Julian, who is left definitely feeling that. Because, he wants Garak to think he's handsome, damnit.
Julian shakes his head to shake it off. But this remains one of my favorite scenes of the two of them.
And while that shot was roughly 40 seconds, and not as long as the last, it still constantly amazes me how little cutting they often do with these two.
I've done both stage and film/tv. They often take completely different skillsets, but there are times where they overlap, or where a strength in theater really comes in handy.
Remembering dialogue is part of the game with theater. Remembering blocking is integral. Remembering to listen and not just speak is essential.
Both of these two actors have experience in both, and that's why scenes like these sing. They know how to feed one another without drawing attention. They know how to react and not only act.
Yes, they have insane chemistry on-camera. But they also know how to use that along with their other skills. They deliver on every level, and it's a fucking shame they're used together so little after this episode.
Also, it's such a fascinating choice to see Julian debating so dispassionately with Garak while losing his cool with Sisko. This has to do with the different relationships at play, sure. But I find it fascinating.
One could consider it a coping mechanism—that Julian needs that rigorous debate as much as Garak does in that moment. And Julian knows Garak has no trouble making the tough decisions. Maybe that's what he hopes Sisko will do... but it's not his place.
"Garak? Come to see us off?" "Not quite."
And as the two turn to face Sisko... this could really be their wedding. I mean, yeah, not the best venue. The food's nonexistant and the music sucks. But, Sisko does have the power to perform the ceremony if they're so inclined.
"I invited Mr. Garak to join us considering we're heading into Cardassian territory I thought he might prove useful."
Julian is beaming. He's beaming. Earlier these two were verbally sparring, and now he couldn't be happier that Garak is onboard for this dangerous mission.
"Well, it's been known to happen."
Julian grasps Garak's shoulder and pats it several time before moving on, still smiling. Just moments ago each of them was lamenting what they didn't have on the ship. But now he has Garak.
"Captain, may I make a suggestion?" "Only if you talk softly." "We saw Dukat-" "Shh." "Wearing one of these headsets during the attack on Deep Space 9-"
This is so married. I have a friend who is Autistic who has a lot of trouble with self-monitoring when it comes to volume, so she and her husband developed a hand signal so he could help hold her accountable in spaces where she needs to be more aware.
I thought of that as soon as I watched this. God bless Garak, but he missed the memo entirely when Sisko said to speak softly. But, one glance at Julian's finger raise to his lips and he gets the message.
"Perhaps Cardassian physiology is more... compatible."
Julian's head swivels to Garak as he processes what the Cardassian is offering. It's a good suggestion. And, honestly, what was Garak adding to the mission besides eye candy for Bashir?
Of course, when the episode was written, this was all planned out. I'm not coming for the writers! No, I'm looking at it purely from the point of view of the characters, who got to enjoy Garak's personality while waiting for him to be useful.
He's a good little Swiss Army Knife of a character, where you never quite know how he's going to be useful. But Sisko's seen enough of him by now to know it's better to bring him along than not.
"Are you volunteering?" "I suppose I am. This ship is equipped with two of them. If I wore one, then you wouldn't have to. At least, not all the time."
Julian puts it together quicker than Sisko, and he likes this idea. Sisko is his patient, at the moment, and as the Captain, he needs to keep him physically fit.
"I agree with Garak, Captain."
And Sisko hands over the headset. But watch how Julian follows the headset to Garak, then waits to be sure he's okay. Yes, of course, he's a bloody Doctor. But, I still love the choice as a performer.
"We have to go to full impulse 1.3 seconds before the bomb detonates."
Bet you're not complaining about his super brain now are you, Garak!?
"Dax?" "The computer agrees with Julian." "Of course it does. They think alike."
Damnit, Garak, I was giving you some credit on that one! Nevermind. And the look Julian gives Garak! Gosh, these two are reading old married couple so much in this episode.
"How long?" "17 Years, 2 months, and 3 days, give or take an hour."
This time, Garak looks to Julian for the answer. This time, he knows that genetically engineered mind will have the answer he needs, even if it's not the one he wants.
And Julian delivers the whole thing directly to Garak. His eyes don't move from him. Theirs is such a fascinating connection, and I wish more of Season 6 between them had been like this.
There's a heat and energy that's obviously couply, but so electric and different from what they had before. It's grown and shifted and they're on a more equal footing, by this point, and they see each other on a more even playing field.
"Garak! I need a hand."
Julian calls out for him as help to carry Jadzia. He trusts him to help him with this. A few years ago, all of them considered Garak a spy and wouldn't trust him with anything. Oh, how far they have come.
Also, are they actually outside!? I love when they let the Star Trek characters bust outside the sound stages and breathe fresh air and have actual sunlight for a bit!
And I'm not going to comment much on the whole Nog/Garak adventure of this episode because, honestly, hearing Garak say words to Nog that hold such meaning for Garashir does irk me.
Now, Robinson is a pro enough to deliver them in completely different ways. "There may be hope for you, yet" to Bashir was sultry and horny. To Nog, it's upbeat and slick.
But it's not my favorite choice when it comes to resuscitating previous dialogue in a new setting. I will admit that much.
"That's the eleventh ship to fall out of formation." "Nice of you to keep track, Garak." "He can't help being negative. It's in his nature." "On the contrary, I always hope for the best. Experience unfortunately has taught me to expect the worst."
Garak turns fully to face Julian to deliver this one. Wow, these two are in a catty phase!
"They outnumber us two to one." "Now who's being negative?"
Julian doesn't acknowledge him, but I love Garak trying to get that little jab in there. Seriously, Season Six is all about the snark. Would've been nice to watch that tension build to some sort of release, eh? But, yeah, nope! Because that's it for Season 6 for these two.
"Thank you for your company, gentlemen."
His first scene with Julian of Season 7, and it's a group get-together where he starts to tap into his claustrophobia. Of the three men across from him, only one has seen that in action before.
"He checks out fine." "Well, I don't feel fine."
There's an intersting turn. Garak used to put up a front, but this time he isn't. But Julian won't be the one to help him. To endear one of my least-favorite characters to the audience, we pair her with one of the most beloved.
And, nothing against the actress. I've seen her in other things and loved her. But young Rachel abhored the character, and grown Rachel's opinion has not wavered.
Oh my gosh. Season 7 Episode 16. Finally a complete scene between these two! It's been since the beginning of Season 6! And they are so in sync they tap the table at the same time, order their drinks simultaneously, and sit down while chatting with some animation we haven't seen in some time.
Bitchy, old couple Garashir has given way to an old, familiar rhythm. And I think part of that is because Julian is back to pursuing what is expected of him—a Dax. But that's a subject for someone else's Meta.
"The eternal optimist." "Guilty as charged." "How sad."
Alright, there's a little bitchiness still in there.
"But, I live in hope that one day you'll come to see this universe for what it truly is rather than what you'd wish it to be." "Well, I shall endavor to become more cynical with each passing day—look gift horses squarely in the mouth, and find clouds in every silver lining." "If only you meant it."
Anyone else feel a little lighter? I feel a little lighter. Because this? This is fucking gorgeous! I ache that it's been since the first episodes of Season 6 since we've seen these two interacting and sparking and reminding us why we love them together. Such different people who challenge one another, excite one another, and make each other smile like no one else can.
But, yeah, sure. Let's give Julian to the bloody Dax. Look, Little Rachel didn't clock Garashir and I was still anti Ezri/Julian. No hatred to those who loved them! But I never understood it.
And thank goodness someone somewhere realized who Garak had to share his last scene with—Julian. It wouldn't have been right if it had been anyone else, despite their distinct lack of screentime together in Seasons 6 and 7.
"Well, aren't you going to congratulate me, Doctor? My exile is now officially over. I've returned home... or rather, to what's left of it." ... "You and I both know the Cardassians are a strong people. They will survive. Cardassia will survive." "Oh, please, Doctor, spare me your insufferable Federation optimism. Of course it'll survive... but not as the Cardassia I knew."
Garak is right. And if he wasn't so (rightfully) upset, he would see that Julian's heart isn't in what he's saying. He just doesn't know what to say.
"We had a rich and ancient culture. Our literature, music, art was second to none. And now... so much of it is... lost. So many of our best people, our most gifted minds."
Robinson is pulling us apart, here. The anguish is palpable, and Siddig is feeding off of it. We can see Julian's plastered on optimism peeling away as the tears fill his eyes. He knows his words hold no meaning, here. So, he finally reaches out.
It's the shoulder touch. It's their thing. But Garak's not in the right place to receive it.
"You've been such a good friend. I'm going to miss our lunches together." "I'm sure we'll see each other, again." "I'd like to think so. But one can never say. We live in uncertain times."
Garak places his hand on Julian's shoulder, now. Their thing. But while Julian's was offered as comfort, Garak's is a goodbye. Garak lets his hand slide off Julian's shoulder, and the human can do nothing but stand there.
In the end, Garak was always going to choose Cardassia. In my mind, the only way he and Julian end up is if the Doctor follows him there. But, Bashir just began a relationship with Ezri, a comfortable relationship in an uncomfortable time.
Love comes in many forms, and sometimes when you find it, you don't even know it's found. That's Garashir. That's the story of missed opportunities and all the things that held them back from finally crossing that final line to becoming the lovers they might have been.
I've heard the rumors, of course, for why that was so. But, since I don't know what's true, I won't repeat them here. Instead, I'll lament what wasn't, and be grateful for a relationship that was so beloved and enduring that Robinson and Siddig themselves championed it, fed it, fostered it, developed it, and supported it so long that it found itself canon in another Star Trek show.
I like to imagine that someday Julian followed Garak to Cardassia, that they realized what they had and couldn't do without. Imagine them both separated so long that their missed lunches grow from an ache to an agony—that the walls of expectation and convention break down enough that they find themselves in one another's arms.
Sometimes we aren't ready for something in life—a career, a move, a great love. And at the end of Star Trek: Deep Space 9, these two aren't in the right place to start something. There are too many other factors at play.
But love at last is often sweeter than the right love at the wrong time. Maybe that's where Garak found Julian—the moment they were both finally ready.
Thanks for reading, loves. I know it's long and likely riddled with typos. But, it's late and I have a Strike Book to resume. This little obsessive ride was a blast, but with my OCD once it's written, it's done. I feel released, and I'm thankful.
And, remember, you are beautiful inside and out. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
#Garashir#Elim Garak#Garak#Julian Bashir#Siddig El Fadil#Alexander Siddig#Andrew Robinson#Deep Space 9#Garak x Bashir#Dr Bashir#meta#Star Trek#star trek deep space nine#star trek deep space 9#DS9#star trek ds9#bashir x garak#Doctor Bashir
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi Mere I don't want to imply anything but I'm worried that your new relationship stopped helping you be creative and put out updates. Is your fiance not letting you write? I'm concerned about you.
Look, i appreciate your concern and I’m sure you have good intentions but let me set you straight.
I met my fiancé through writing. we used to write together every single night. They’ve been nothing but my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, the person I can turn to for honest and kind feedback. When I was writing Youngblood and I wrote a chapter I absolutely HATED it was them who encouraged me to rework it into something I was proud of and who didn’t let me give up and just hate myself for it.
And when I said I wanted to stop writing for a while let me tell you there was a big silence and they gave me a look of horror and asked if I was okay because YEAH, it’s very unlike me.
But first I want to say, that just because you guys have known about my relationship for a little while doesn’t mean that’s as long as it’s existed. I was happily in this relationship when I was pumping out 3 chaps a week, and I’m happily in it now that I’m posting 0.
The honest truth is I’m burnt the fuck out. I don’t want to write because I have zero interest in it right now. It doesn’t make me happy, I’m not motivated or burning to do it like I used to be. I wrote nonstop through my last two years of college, through graduating, through working a terrible food service job post grad, living in constant dread of what came next. I’m just burnt out. I’ve been pumping out jegulus nonstop since 2022, ofc I was going to lose steam and move away from it eventually.
Im just busy and tired! I’m moving in a few months, I have a full time job now, I go to work at 8am and come home at 5 or 6 and I don’t want to write. I want to spend time with my family or my friends or my fiancé. In December I worked for 17 days straight without a day off, I needed a break! And when I want comfort and happiness I don’t have to turn to writing to find it.
I’m mentally at the best I have been in a very long time, and I don’t need to write like someone has a gun to my head to cope anymore. I had a very unhealthy and obsessive relationship with writing. And I always joked when people asked how I wrote so much that it was mental illness. But it wasn’t really a joke, I was unwell and coping with fanfic. So while I’m sure some of you may be sad to see my writing slow, I hope you’re happy for me because it’s a good thing!! I want to heal my relationship with writing and I want it to be something I simply do for fun, not something to fill some hole inside of me.
So while I’m sure you mean well, I just want to remind you guys that you see a very small piece of my life and my relationship. So I’d appreciate not making assumptions 🩷
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! I just wanted to say that I absolutely love your writing. Especially the way you write Elrond! So good. You've very quickly become one of my favorite tumblr posters :) I don't know if anyone has asked this yet, but if not, how would Elrond, Círdan, and Gil-Galad react to the reader rescuing them from being captured by orcs/bandits? Thanks!
Thank you so much for your kind words! It truly means the world to me to hear that you enjoy my writing. 🥹❤️🔥🫶✨
As for your question, I actually wrote something similar to this idea before the title called “Elves reacting their you saving their life’s” it’s on my Masterlist pinned at top of my page you’ll find it in their, though I haven’t explored a scenario with orcs or bandits specifically—so I’d be more than happy to write it for you. It’s such a fun and dynamic setup, and I love the idea of exploring how Elrond, Círdan, and Gil-galad would react in that kind of situation. Thank you for the inspiration! 🥺🤌
how would the elves react to this?
↓
↓
↓
Elrond, Gil-Galad Círdan Version below.
📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭
Elrond might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.
The ancient woods of Eregion were silent, the kind of silence that came when predators were near. The golden light of dusk bled through the canopy, staining the forest floor in hues of amber and crimson. The wind barely stirred, as if the trees themselves held their breath. Somewhere within this tranquil facade, chaos brewed. Elrond Half-elven had been captured. The orcs had struck swiftly and without mercy, ambushing him and his small party as they returned from a reconnaissance mission. His guards had fought valiantly but were quickly overwhelmed. Now, bound and bloodied, Elrond knelt in a rough clearing, surrounded by the jeers of his captors. His silver-threaded tunic was torn, his dark hair matted with dirt and blood. Yet, even in this moment of vulnerability, his eyes shone like steel—cold, calculating, and unyielding.
The orcs had made a mistake. They had underestimated him. But even Elrond, for all his cunning, could not see a clear path to freedom. His hands were tightly bound behind him, the ropes cutting into his skin, a reminder of his helplessness. His weapons were gone, and though his mind raced with strategies, every scenario ended the same: with his blood soaking the earth. His pride and experience told him to fight, but in the quiet dark of the clearing, with the weight of captivity pressing down on him, Elrond knew he was out of options. For a fleeting moment, something close to frustration stirred within him—but he quickly pushed it aside. Anger wouldn’t free him, nor would it serve him here. He needed to think, needed to wait, but time was a luxury he no longer had.
The orcs were already bickering over their prize. One particularly large brute brandished a jagged blade and snarled something in their guttural tongue. Elrond didn’t flinch. He met the orc’s gaze with cold detachment, refusing to grant them the satisfaction of his fear. He had seen this before—death in various forms, and in many guises. If this was to be his end, he would meet it with dignity. But even as he steeled himself, he could feel the weight of his impending fate, the very real possibility of this moment being his last. And then, a sound—a faint rustle in the underbrush. The orcs didn’t notice, too consumed by their squabble, but Elrond’s keen ears caught it. His sharp gaze flickered toward the shadows at the edge of the clearing, where the fading light painted shifting patterns on the forest floor. For a moment, his mind raced. Was it a stray animal? A larger threat? No. The movement was too deliberate, too precise, to be mere chance.
A slight shift in the air, a tension, drew his attention fully. He felt a strange spark of hope—a quick, unfamiliar surge, like a breath after being submerged too long. And then, his senses sharpened, pulling his attention entirely to the darkness beyond. Something—or someone—was coming. Someone was there. Someone you. You had tracked the orcs for hours, following the trail of broken branches and spilled blood. When you’d come upon the scene—Elrond bound and surrounded—you hadn’t hesitated. There wasn’t time to formulate a grand plan or to consider the consequences. All that mattered was saving him.
From the shadows, you moved with practiced stealth, each step as quiet as the fall of a leaf. Your hand tightened around the hilt of your blade as you assessed the situation. The orcs were many—more than you’d expected—but their focus on Elrond gave you the element of surprise. It would have to be enough. Your attack was swift. The first orc didn’t even have time to scream before your blade slid across its throat. The second fell just as quickly, your dagger finding its mark in the gap between its armor. By the time the others realized what was happening, you were already upon them, a whirlwind of steel and determination.
Elrond’s head snapped up at the commotion, his sharp gaze locking onto your form as you cut through his captors like a storm. Surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by something else—something akin to awe. You moved with a grace that rivaled even the elves, your every strike precise, your every motion purposeful. The orcs snarled and lunged at you, but you were relentless. The clearing erupted into chaos as you danced between them, your blade gleaming in the fading light. One by one, the orcs fell, their cries echoing through the trees. Still, more kept coming, their brute strength and numbers threatening to overwhelm you.
Elrond, though bound and weaponless, wasn’t idle. He twisted his wrists against the ropes, his sharp mind analyzing every detail of the fight. When one orc charged toward you from behind, he shouted, “Behind you!” His voice, commanding even in captivity, gave you just enough warning to sidestep the attack and deliver a killing blow. Finally, the last orc fell, its body hitting the ground with a heavy thud. The clearing was eerily quiet once more, the air thick with the stench of blood. You turned to Elrond, your chest heaving as you hurried to his side.
“Are you hurt?” you asked, your voice breathless but steady. “Nothing that won’t heal,” he replied, his tone calm despite the ordeal. His eyes, however, betrayed the storm of emotions roiling beneath his composed exterior—relief, gratitude, and perhaps a touch of disbelief. You knelt behind him, cutting through the ropes with quick, efficient movements. As the bindings fell away, Elrond flexed his hands, wincing slightly at the raw skin beneath. He rose to his feet with the grace of one who had endured far worse, his imposing presence undiminished by his injuries. “You should not have come for me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “It was reckless.”
“Perhaps,” you admitted, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But I wasn’t about to leave you to them.” For a moment, Elrond said nothing, his piercing gray eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, the corners of his lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Foolish,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But brave.” Together, you moved through the forest, leaving the carnage behind. Elrond insisted he was fine, though you couldn’t help but notice the way he favored one leg as he walked. When you offered to slow down, he waved you off with a faint smirk. “I am not as fragile as I look.” As night fell, the two of you stopped to rest in a small, sheltered glade. Elrond sat with his back against a tree, his eyes fixed on the stars above. You sat beside him, the silence between you comfortable but charged with unspoken words. Finally, Elrond broke the silence. “You saved my life,” he said, his voice soft. “I do not say this lightly, but I am in your debt.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” you replied. “I did what anyone would do.” “No,” he said, turning to face you fully. “Not anyone. Few would risk their lives for another, let alone against such odds. You have my gratitude—and my respect.” There was a sincerity in his tone that left no room for doubt. For all his wisdom and strength, Elrond was not one to offer his trust easily. Yet, in this moment, he looked at you not as a subordinate or even a savior, but as an equal. As the night deepened and the stars shone brighter, you realized that this moment—shared in the aftermath of danger—was the beginning of something far greater than either of you could have anticipated.
🏵️𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭
Gil-Galad might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.
The night air was cold, and the sky overhead was shrouded in a blanket of clouds. The dark, twisted trees of Middle-earth seemed to close in, casting ominous shadows across the forest floor. In the heart of the woods, Gil-galad, the High King of the Noldor, stood tall—his regal bearing unshaken, even in the face of danger. The faintest shimmer of starlight glanced off his golden armor as he and his companions prepared for an ambush. His keen silver grey eyes scanned the surroundings, always vigilant, always prepared for what came next. But even the most vigilant of Elven kings could be caught off guard. The attack was swift. Orcs, crawling from the dark crevices of the forest, came at them like a tide. The clash of metal on metal rang out as Gil-galad led his warriors with strength and precision, a beacon of light in the chaos. His movements were fluid, his strikes calculated, but even he was not immune to the overwhelming number of attackers.
In the midst of the fray, one of the Orcs, taller and stronger than the others, launched itself at Gil-galad with terrifying speed. It knocked the King off balance, sending him crashing to the forest floor with a heavy thud. His sword fell from his hand, skidding away into the underbrush. For a fleeting moment, Gil-galad’s breath was knocked from his lungs, his vision blurred from the sudden impact. The sting of the fall reached deep into his ribs, and the sharpness of the pain reminded him that even a King was not invincible. The Orcs closed in, snarling, their eyes gleaming with malice. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his pulse quickening as he struggled to regain his bearings. Gil-galad’s gaze sharpened despite the fog of disorientation, his mind already calculating his next move. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blade aimed at his heart. He reached for his sword, but it was too far away. There was a fleeting moment, a brief weakness—something unfamiliar—that passed through him. A flash of helplessness that he rarely allowed himself to feel. It was swiftly buried beneath layers of command and duty, but it lingered just a little longer than he would have liked. Just as the Orcs began to close in, something unexpected happened.
A rush of movement swept through the trees. In a blink, you appeared—your form silhouetted by the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy above. Without hesitation, you leapt into the fray, your blade flashing like a streak of lightning in the darkness. The battle paused for a brief second as Gil-galad, still on the ground, turned his head in your direction. His heart skipped a beat—not from fear or shock, but from an overwhelming sense of awe. With swift precision, you cut through the nearest Orc, your movements an elegant dance of strength and agility. The creatures fell back, surprised by the sudden turn of events, their snarls turning to fearful hisses. But it wasn’t the Orcs that held Gil-galad’s attention. It was you. Your movements were effortless, your focus unwavering. You cut through their ranks, protecting the King as though you were born for this very moment. Gil-galad’s thoughts raced. He knew his warriors were skilled, but there was something about you—something about the way you moved, the way you fought with such certainty and grace—that left him speechless. A profound sense of gratitude and admiration swelled in his chest.
His breath was still ragged from the fall, but he forced himself to push off the ground, his hand gripping the earth for support. His eyes locked on yours as you cleared the final Orcs with a grace that could only come from an elf with purpose. The moment you turned toward him, your gaze filled with concern, his lips parted to speak, but no words came. For the first time in many long years, the weight of the battle felt distant compared to the relief that flooded him at your presence. He could feel the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but it was tempered by an undeniable surge of gratitude. You had been there when he faltered—when the weight of the crown, the history of his people, and the perils of the battle had threatened to pull him down. You stepped toward him, your voice calm and steady as you spoke. “Are you injured, my king?” Gil-galad, still shaken but steadying himself, nodded. “I am unharmed, thanks to you.” His voice was low, but the words carried a sincerity that he could not conceal. There was no formality in his words, no regal distance between you. Only an unspoken appreciation. He would have never admitted it aloud, but in that fleeting moment, he felt an unfamiliar vulnerability, one he did not know how to shield himself from.
You bent down to help him, extending your hand. He took it, and as you helped him rise to his feet, a look of quiet admiration crossed his face. For a moment, he simply stood there, his gaze softening as he took in the full depth of your actions. A flicker of something more stirred within him—a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages. But it was the steadiness of your touch, the way you stood by him without hesitation, that left him in awe. The king, ever the leader, found his heart racing not with the weight of his title, but with something far simpler: a respect, perhaps something even deeper, for the one who had stood by him in the face of danger. “You have my deepest gratitude,” he said, his tone rich with meaning. “Without your intervention, I may not have made it out of this alive.” There was a weight in his words—an acknowledgement that, in this chaotic world of shifting alliances and countless battles, your presence had changed everything. He had long borne the weight of his kingdom, the responsibility of leadership, but tonight, that burden had been eased by you.
His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world around them faded. The sounds of battle, the crashing of blades, the cries of the fallen—all of it melted away as Gil-galad’s gaze softened. “Your bravery… it does not go unnoticed,” he added, his voice low and earnest. “I will not forget this.” As you stood by him, your hands still holding his, he felt the weight of the moment settle between you both. The connection was undeniable. He had seen countless lives lost in the wars of Middle-earth, witnessed the rise and fall of kingdoms, but in this fleeting moment, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time—trust. Perhaps, even something more. The night was still, the threat of the Orcs momentarily forgotten, as the two of you shared a brief but significant moment. It was then that Gil-galad realized the depths of your loyalty—not just as a warrior, but as someone who had saved him not for glory, but for the simple love of what was right. And as he returned to the fight, standing side by side with you, the King’s heart swelled with something he hadn’t expected—hope.
🌊 𝓬í𝓻𝓭𝓪𝓷
Círdan might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.
The salt-laden air of the Grey Havens stung the skin as the distant waves crashed relentlessly against the shore, their rhythm a cruel backdrop to the chaos unfolding on the docks. The normally serene harbor had become a battlefield, its once tranquil shores stained with the blood of the brave and the wicked alike. Orcs had struck swiftly, their guttural cries mingling with the clang of steel and the roar of flames licking the sky. A boat had been set ablaze, its wreckage casting an eerie glow on the water as smoke swirled into the darkening sky. Círdan, his silver hair flowing behind him like a banner, stood as an unyielding sentinel amidst the chaos. His movements were fluid, a dance of deadly elegance as he cut down the attackers one by one. Despite the ferocity of his strikes, his age was beginning to show. His breath, though steady, came with more effort now, and his movements were slower, less sharp than they had once been. The weight of centuries rested on his shoulders, and though his resolve was unbroken, fatigue crept into his limbs.
The orcs were relentless, and soon he was surrounded. A heavy cleaver struck his sword with a resounding clash, forcing him back against the stone wall of the harbor. The ground beneath his feet was slick, and for a brief moment, Círdan felt the full weight of age and weariness. His heart pounded in his chest, but still he raised his sword, determined to protect his people, to fend off the dark tide. Then, the sound—a rustle in the trees above, so faint it could have been mistaken for the wind. But not to Círdan. His sharp eyes flickered toward the movement, his heart quickening with hope. He knew what it meant. You were here. You had been tracking the orc band for days, following their trail with patience and precision. But when you had seen the smoke rising from the docks, when you had realized that the mighty Shipwright himself was in peril, there was no hesitation. You burst from the shadows, a whirlwind of action and determination. Your blade was already in your hand as you descended from the ridge above the harbor, landing with the grace of a predator.
The first orc never knew what hit it. You moved like lightning, your strike clean and efficient, the orc’s blood spilling across the stones before it even had time to scream. The second orc fared no better, falling at your feet with a single, well-placed blow. Círdan’s blue eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, the flicker of disbelief in his gaze quickly replaced by something far deeper—recognition, relief, and perhaps even a touch of awe. You had come for him, risking everything to pull him from the jaws of death. “Stay behind me!” you shouted as you moved toward him, your voice firm and unyielding amidst the chaos of battle. For a moment, Círdan hesitated. He had always been the protector, the one to stand between others and danger. But as he saw you cut through the orcs with such deadly precision, the decision was made for him. He gritted his teeth, his sword rising once more to meet the next foe. Together, you formed an unstoppable force, a seamless unity that struck terror into the hearts of the orcs.
The battle raged on, but your combined strength was a force of nature. At one point, a brutish orc captain, wielding a massive axe, charged at you. Círdan saw it coming before you did. Without hesitation, he stepped into the line of fire, his sword parrying the deadly blow that would have otherwise struck you down. The force of the strike rattled him, but his gaze remained as steady as the sea. “You risk much for an old shipwright,” he said, his voice calm even in the midst of the battle. “I’m not leaving you here!” you replied fiercely, spinning to meet another attacker. “Not after all you’ve done for Middle-earth.” For a fleeting moment, Círdan’s expression softened, and his eyes lingered on you with a new respect. Few understood the sacrifices he had made over the centuries, the countless battles fought in the shadows, the weight of leadership that bore down on him. But you—here you were, putting everything on the line for him. And somehow, it stirred something deep within him.
With renewed purpose, you fought side by side, driving the orcs back, step by step, until their resolve shattered. The last of the attackers fell with a guttural cry, their bodies littering the stones of the harbor like discarded refuse. The once-bloody battlefield fell silent. The air was thick with the scent of salt and blood, but the clamor of battle had ceased. Only the gentle lap of the waves against the shore and the distant cries of gulls broke the stillness. Círdan stood beside you, his breath coming in measured, steady bursts. He was still strong, but the toll of the fight had left its mark on him. His cheek was bloodied, a thin cut running across his face, but his posture was unyielding. He looked at you with gratitude and something deeper—an understanding that had not existed between you before.
“You have my thanks,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotion. His blue eyes held yours, and for the first time in your presence, he spoke not as a leader, but as a fellow soul who had witnessed your bravery firsthand. “Few would have risked their lives for me. Fewer still would have succeeded.” You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “You’ve spent centuries helping others, Círdan. It’s about time someone returned the favor.” A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips, rare and fleeting but filled with warmth. “Then I am fortunate it was you,” he said, his voice low but sincere. As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the harbor, you and Círdan stood side by side, looking out over the water. The battle had been long and fierce, but the bond forged between you in the heat of conflict was even stronger. There was no need for words now. The understanding between you was clear.
Círdan placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip gentle but strong—a silent gesture of respect. “You have the heart of a mariner,” he said softly, his voice carrying the cadence of the sea. “Fearless, steadfast, and loyal. I will not forget this.” And as the light of the new day broke over the Grey Havens, you knew that, in your heart, you had not only saved a life—you had earned the trust and respect of one of Middle-earth’s greatest figures.
#Elrond#Elrond x reader#elrond peredhel#elrond peredhel x reader#lord Elrond#Elrond simps#Elrond supremacy#cirdan#cirdan x reader#cirdan the shipwright#cirdan headcanons#cirdandaddy#Gil galad#Gil galad x reader#gil galad high king#gil galad supremacy#gil galad of lindon#gil galad x reader#gil galad rings of power#ereinion gil galad#elvenking gil galad#gil galad headcanons#cirdan simps#cirdan supremacy#lord of the rings#the hobbit#the rings of power
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
Random Headcanons (18+)
IDW!Michelangelo x reader
A/N: I was supposed to write this last night, but then I fell asleep instead, ups😂 So I’m starting the morning out with it instead. Here ya go🧡
All characters are aged up.
Warning: Mentioning of public sex, mentioning of roleplays.
As energetic, thrill seeking and fun Mikey could be - often finding himself in rather outrageous situations, that anybody would have a hard time believing to be true - he could have a tendency to be rather oblivious to you and your physical needs from time to time. It’s not that he didn’t care about your physical needs - on the contrary, he very much did - it’s just that he can be a little slow at times, not noticing the look in your eyes, or how your touches tended to linger on him much longer. However as soon as you directly tell him what it is that you’re wanting, he would drop everything in his hands for you.
If there’s one thing Mikey really loves in the bedroom, then it’s the exact opposite - sex outside the bedroom. Though Mikey is very aware that it isn’t always possible, he does really have a thing for the two of you getting down, at places where the two of you shouldn’t really be getting down. It isn’t really because he wants to be caught. Actually, he would much rather not get caught, as that would mean the two of you would have cut your session short. It’s more the experience, and your ability to remind each other of the time you had sex against a tree in Central Park.
But on the days where you and Mikey had to keep the sex in the bedroom, it wasn’t uncommon for Mikey to put music on. Was this to get in the mood, or maybe drown out the sound of you and him going to pound town? Maybe. But if you ask Mikey, he might tell you how that was actually a pretty smart idea, but no, that was not his intention. He just really liked music and to get groovy, and he really likes you. Pleasure match made in heaven!
Another thing Mikey is really into, is roleplay. Teacher, student. Doctor, nurse. Nurse, patient. Cop, criminal. Hell, you have even tried librarian and book loaner with the goal of staying as quiet as possible, while being in the most deep pounding positions.
But in line with Mikey’s love for sex at places where you shouldn’t have sex, he also has a thing for you and him touching each other under the table, while other people are around. He once took it one step further, and ate you out under the dining table, while his brothers sat on the couch nearby, fully invested in the movie that was playing on the screen.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt x reader#tmnt x reader smut#tmnt idw x reader#tmnt idw x reader smut#tmnt mikey x reader#tmnt mikey x reader smut#tmnt michelangelo x reader#tmnt michelangelo x reader smut#tmnt idw mikey x reader#tmnt idw mikey x reader smut#tmnt idw michelangelo x reader#tmnt idw michelangelo x reader smut#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt mikey#tmnt idw mikey#tmnt idw michelangelo
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
3.0 part 2 ୧(๑•̀ヮ•́)૭ IKZ!!!
Can't wait to see what's going onnnnnn! There's so much to possibly look forward to!
Details under the cut because long post is gonna be looooong
turns out this is just part 1 of the post lmao! There's a lot of images!! Part 2 post is up here!
aaaaaa the new intro to Deepspace Mews is soooooooooooo cute!
:C Lore intro????! About Skyhaven!
OMG!!!!!!!!!! A REMINDER NOTIFICATION?!
XAVIER PLEASE ToT
This is so cool!!! There's even a period notif!!
The little notebook is so cuteeeeeeee T^T
I JUST NOTICED LUNAR NEW YEAR DECORATIONS!!! WAIT ARE WE GETTING SEASONAL DECOR?????
FINALLY A BIGGER DESK PLEASEEEEE AHHHHHHH
AND A LANDSCAPE VER OF THE DESK?!!!!
There's sooooo much you can customise now! That's niceeeee T^T
There's even a photowall!! :C
Finally Abyssal Chaos update!
Brownie what are you doing on the Farspace Fleet Baseeeeee ToT
INTEL!!!
CALEBBBBBB
OMG
AYO???? WHAT...! New colonel in the Farspace Fleet huh! :C SO MUCH NEW LORE TO EXPLOREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Jan 22nd Update! with new Companion and Main Story update!!
!!!! Caleb free 5* and 4* memories!
AND NEW BACKGROUNDS! :C that's quite a lot of rewards
Finally T^T
And it comes with a new Code System :C huh! Ooooh upgraded companion codes too!
BEYBLADEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
OMG MR BEANIE!!!
This is a red light green light game X'D;;;;
EVEN HEARTBREAKER
ooooh it's the memory mini game but as a pair now. This is cute X'D
HOLY SHYT???! PLATFORMER!!!!????
Okay this updated Abyssal Chaos is pretty jam packed with mini game updates too! That's fun xp
Twinkle Photobooth upgrade too!!
New updated UI
AND FINALLY OMG THE GAZE UPDATE IS GOOD
CALEBBBB
OMG POSES WITH ITEMMMSSSS
FINALLY YOU CAN CHOOSE YOUR WEAPONS TOO!
Uh oh... i reached the max photo limit lmao! Writing a part 2 post!
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
i love everything you write when drew brings up angels age or when he found outttt
like just how he felt a bit guilty for messing with a young girl and angels just doing her thing
you get ittt
him feeling so guilty and he’s so worried about his public perception now, but he can’t even care because he needs angel so baddddd that his willing to put those worries aside. angel’s young ass just brings out a side of drew that reminds him to have fun and stay youthful 🤒 angel on the other hand; living it the fuck up, she’s got her old ass boyfriend who treats her like the only girl in the world <3
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
i mean this in the nicest way possible but posting gbwwwg on ao3 was like. the worst decision. guys please stop telling me how to write my fic. i will write what i want. if i get one more comment about elizabeth i think ill lose my mind READ MY OTHER STUFF..... I WRITE ABOUT ELIZABETH I PROMISE.... But gbwwwg is literally the fic i write because i wanna explore the characters,,,, and usually that falls on michael and evan. i understand the frustration with her being sidelined but i have OTHER FICS that focus on her. gbwwwg is for ME. I want to write my favorite duo. ough
#like im glad its getting good attention#but also some attention is... frustrating#i hope i dont sound ungrateful........ but its annoying to get comments like that#i write what i want jfc#also not just comments abt liz literally any comments telling me what to change about my fic or what i should do better I DIDNT ASK FOR THA#gbwwwg is literally my shitty fic. its the fic i write without caring too much about the flow or whatever. its the fic i made to just write#its not even meant to be good. i didnt really want it to be my best fic#just. reminder that i write for fun not for you#tzu rambles#tzu rants
21 notes
·
View notes