#How to Start Writing a Diary in 10 Steps

[leftluminarytragedy]

How to Start Writing a Diary in 10 Steps

You can express your emotions, write down dreams or ideas, and reflect on your daily life in a secure, private setting by keeping a journal. There is no one set method for keeping a diary, but there are certain simple techniques you may use to make the most of your writing. Using starters like motivational quotations can help you start fresh entries if you’re stuck for ideas. Your thoughts, feelings, and opinions about anything—from job to school and everything in between, can be kept private in a diary.

1- Start Diary Writing by Following 10 Steps

How to start writing a diary? What are the things to write in a diary? There is no correct or incorrect approach or things to write in a diary. Everything comes down to personal liking and what works for you. However, I hope the following advice and tips on How to start writing a diary will help you get started.

2- Choose the type of diary that you desire.

A good diary will motivate you to write every day, so it is important to choose it wisely. You don’t have to limit yourself to maintaining a diary on paper; there are many different solutions available. You can utilize a private, password-protected website or blog in addition to keeping a traditional paper diary. You may also just use a computer document.

Paper notebooks allow you complete control and privacy, but without making copies, you won’t have a backup alternative. Remember that anything you keep online can be hacked, so even if your online journal is password-protected or secret, there’s still a chance someone could access it.

3-Ask yourself- WHY?

Before finding the answer to ‘How to start writing a diary?’, you must be clear with ‘why.’ Why do you want to keep a diary, you could ask yourself? – The importance of diary writing. Understanding why you want to keep a journal is the first step at the beginning of writing one. Maybe you want to start a new task, or maybe you just need a way to put your ideas down on paper. In either case, knowing why you want to keep a diary will help you choose the kind that’s best for you.

4- Things to write in a diary-

A regular diary- about routine tasks that you do

A food diary – about various food items (if you are foody)

A business idea diary – if you get business ideas and love to gather them somewhere

A creative writing diary- if you want to write your poems, articles, etc

A Travel diary – if you like to keep a record of places you travel.

It’s critical to keep in mind that journals are designed to be personal and private. This is a fantastic way to keep track of your daily thoughts and experiences. Journals can also be used to keep track of past objectives or goals that you have made. Blogging is a fantastic additional alternative to journaling. Through their own personal blogs, people from all over the world may communicate with one another and share thoughts and experiences.

Establish a schedule.

Set aside a particular time each day to write if you want to be sure you do it. Perhaps you prefer to write about the previous day first thing in the morning, or perhaps keeping a diary helps you decompress. It is more crucial to write every day than it is to write when. You can use your smartphone or your watch to set a reminder to write every day at the same time to ensure that you keep to your writing schedule.

READ MORE....Become the next great creator | Learn from the legends | mugafi

[becomingthatgirl111]

organize your week like this to be closer to the best version of yourself

i interpret the process of becoming our best version as climbing a ladder, on each step, we learn something new that serves us, and the next we complement it with something new, and so on until we reach the end and after many small habits we have become that version we wanted to be. little by little we are learning and although sometimes it is complicated to climb because of the adversities that may arise we can always take up the path again and put into practice what we have learned. that said, today i want to share a method that i have created to organize our habits and thus fulfill them more effectively and feel motivated. in this post i will only present some examples, you have to apply it to your own situation and my recommendation is to start now even with small habits that will be the ones that will lead you to success. i recommend that you try it for this week and write down your results, if it has worked for you keep using this "organization method" and adding new habits or increasing its time.

organize by categories.

create groups to categorize the habits you want to implement in your life, for example like this (the habits are examples, use your own)

🌿 health (body and nutrition)

10 minutes of exercise every day

30 minutes of walking every day

drink a lot more water

start eating consciously

one self-care day a week, for example on friday. we can take this day more relaxed and take more care of ourselves, dedicate more time to our personal and mental care.

do massage with the quartz roller and gua sha

make an appointment for nails, hairdresser, spa, eyelashes or even go to a coffee shop with yourself.

use a face mask and hair mask

🌿 personal growth

read 10 pages a day

listen to personal growth podcasts or audiobooks (choose one and listen to it all week long)

choose an affirmation and write it down every day

record in a diary or an app your mood and what you did during the day.

create a to-do list of what you will do for the day (the night before)

choose a video of affirmations and listen to it every day at a time that suits you best

🌿 studies

study about what you are studying or training for.

dedicate e.g. 20-30 minutes each day to study or review.

study a new language, 15 minutes a day, 5 days a week.

🌿 hobbies

1 - 2 hours to what you enjoy doing (depends on the day and your schedule)

you can write down in a notebook the groups you want to choose for yourself and then the habits you are going to implement, even if they are very small, for example 5 minutes of daily exercise, that is a good start.

to stay focused and not fall into old habits we can also replace the old habits with new ones that we want to implement in this way.

old habit: too much time on instagram new habit: reading or listening to an audiobook while i take a walk. or even just 15 minutes of social media a day.

other examples:

drinking soda or alcoholic beverages > drinking a lot more water and starting to drink natural juices.

watch a lot of series on netflix (or any streaming platform) > read or listen to podcasts/audiobooks that nourish my mind.

overthinking, worrying > meditating for about 5 minutes

lying in bed without doing anything > organizing my room

think in negative > think about the things you would like to happen to you

other tips to connect with your best version

write in your diary how you would act, be and what habits your best version would have. this will give you clarity about what you want and you will feel closer to that because you will know how to act.

establish small habits to start with and take it as a kind of game or test during this week. don't push yourself too hard.

at times when you don't know how to act or react, think about how your best version would act and what it would do.

write down things you are proud of or would like to be proud of.

if you are easily distracted or do not know what to do at any given moment, set alarms to know what to do at that moment.

if you use social media a lot, set a limit of use.

choose habits that you know you will be able to do easily, that will make you gain confidence and little by little establish those habits in which you have procrastinated or which are more difficult for you.

think big, open yourself to the possibilities that life offers you every day and keep a positive attitude towards any situation.

apps i recommend: habit: it serves to keep track of your habits and also get organized, it's a kind of to-do list. daylio: you can record your mood, what you did during the day and your habits, it also allows you to write and add photos. it is very complete, it can be used as a digital diary. notion: to get organized.

duolingo: if you want to learn a language a few minutes a day will be enough. i learned a lot of grammar in english thanks to this, which works if you practice daily.

and as always my blog is about this and there will be many more related posts in addition to the existing ones, all to be our best version 🤍 in fact if you try it i would love to know your results.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 36 BRUTAL CLARITY

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing (shocker but no sexual innuendos in this chap !) , lwk abandonment issues, blame shifting, lots of nervous habits too (?)

NOTES | first fully written chap, some of you guys will hate me for this, also, I was initially going to post this yesterday, but I got lazy and didn't write anything 😭

Now, Jaemin wasn’t one to believe in fate, but if it had somehow led him here, he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

After 10 minutes of trying to pry the door open and too many failed attempts at picking the lock both captains had finally given up, too worn out from the game to actually bother trying to get out of the room they found themselves locked in.

Jaemin stood near one of the benches, hands jammed deep into the pockets of his hoodie. His eyes occasionally darted to Y/N, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back to him. Not a word had been exchanged between them in the past week, let alone during the last ten minutes. The silence between them felt heavy, far more suffocating than the game they'd just played.

There was so much to say—too much, in fact, and he had no idea where to begin. But Jaemin knew he had to start somewhere.

"Don't go on that date with Jay." He said softly, voice barely above a whisper. His body practically froze in the second it took him to process the words that had actually left his mouth, but Y/n sat still, unmoving. Of all the impending conversations, this was the last one he'd intended to start with.

He felt like an idiot.

When she didn’t respond, Jaemin felt a pang of uncertainty, wondering if she hadn’t heard him. He hesitated, the words stuck in his throat, but instead of repeating himself, he added, "Can we talk?"

Nothing. But he was certain she'd heard him.

"Come on, Y/N," Jaemin’s voice was quieter now but edged with desperation. "Talk to me"

Y/N’s shoulders stiffened, not turning around. Her gaze was fixed on the rough floor, the sting of old memories too sharp to face him directly.

Something about this moment felt too nostalgic, too tender, reminiscent of a past she desperately wanted to return to. And looking at Jaemin— she just couldn't do it.

Not now. Not when in this past week, she'd relived every moment she once knew Jaemin, through photographs and teenage diary entries,now buried somewhere at the back of her wardrobe.

Still, Jaemin took a step forward, and she bowed her head, refusing eye contact. His heart clenched. Her glossy eyes weren't difficult to miss, not for him.

"I don’t know what happened. I don’t even know why he's here, " Jaemin continued, his words rushed. "I just want to fix things. Please." He knew his words were jumbled, mixing pieces of conversations they should’ve had long ago, but if this was his only chance, he wouldn’t blow it. “Look at me, peach.”

Y/N’s lips pressed together, and for a moment, it seemed like she might just give in. Instead, she pulled her knees closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as if to shut herself off completely. Cocooning herself.

Jaemin let out a frustrated breath and sank onto the bench across from her, his voice quieter now. Defeated almost.

"I swear, he came onto me first," Jaemin defended himself, trying to take a different approach to the situation, a dry, soulless laugh rolling off his tongue. "That's a lie, but he was pissing me off." His hands were up, raised by his head in full defence after he'd caught the way y/n snuck bitter glances at him in the mirror across from them.

God, she almost wanted to laugh. And she hated that she did, hated how jaemin always knew what to say and when to say it, how to get her to laugh in her worst moments, how to get through to her when nobody else could. After all that, she didn't understand why he was the same person to turn his back on her so quickly.

In all honesty, she could've cared less about what Jaemin had done to her father. He probably deserved it, hell she was ready to blow up at him herself— the man who had never once shown up to a single one of her games in support, coming to one of the few that meant the most. He did it on purpose. He was trying to throw her off and it was clear as day. He could be dealt with later she supposed, trying to process everything Jaemin was saying instead.

But it still didn't make sense. Nothing seemed to match up. Why would the Jaemin who'd walked out of her life so easily put so much at stake for her, the Jaemin who once couldn't care less about her, now begged her just to look his way. Her mind raced, a swirl of emotions, but behind it all, a lingering sense of confusion.

"Can we talk y/n? You've been ignoring me for days, and I have no idea what I did." He pauses, hoping she'll finally break. She doesn't, not yet.

"If anyone should be mad at someone it's me. I should be angry, hell I should be enraged, but here I am making an effort and you're giving me nothing." he tries again, hopeful. His voice raises, louder, more hoarse when he continues, a sign of his slipping patience.

"Work with me here because I'm trying to salvage our friendship after everything we've been through, I'm trying to save us, and somehow, it feels like you've already given up"

She finally spoke, her voice flat.

"I have."

Jaemin felt the way his eyes widened, the spark of hope in his eyes vanished, confusion flooding his expression instead.

"What."

"Why would I fight for something I know won't last?" She spoke like she had all the certainty in the world

Jaemin's expression faltered. "What do you mean?"

The question is simple but comes with such sincerity that for a moment, just for a second, Y/n wonders if she's gone insane.

"What do I mean?" she laughs, sarcasm dripping through her tone, "You know damn well what I mean Jaemin." His innocent act is enough for Y/n to rise to her feet, fists bundled at her side, jaw set in a hard line.

"You don't just get to walk out of someone's life, my life Jaemin, and pretend like you did nothing wrong. You don't just get to throw away relationships like that, not what we had. You want to talk about fighting, huh Jaemin? I fought, so hard. " her voice was sharp, coming in bursts of irritation, struggling to catch her breath as she hiccuped, tears welling in her eyes and already rolling down her cheeks " I fought so fucking hard, and I fought alone, because I thought you, I thought we, were worth fighting for."

She takes a second to wipe her tears, Jaemin taken aback— he'd never seen her like this, never so raw, so vulnerable.

Nothing she had said made any sense, nothing she spoke of aligned with anything he knew, and yet it seemed nothing short of the truth.

"You disappeared, and you never even told me why, and you want to talk to me about giving up on us? How do I know you won't do it again, huh? How do I let you back into my life, accept you with open arms and a smile, when I don't know if you'll do it again, if you'll leave again." At this point, Jaemin watched the girl's sentences disintegrate in their flow, broken sobs punctuating her words in some places, shallow breaths in others.

"You say want to talk about us, but the first thing you asked me was not to go on some stupid date that really shouldn't be any of your concern in the first place. Is this really even about us? Because it feels like you say all this shit about fighting for us when really, you don't care at all."

Her words were coming out jumbled, a disorganised mess of all the things she'd been meaning to get off her chest in years, and yet the weight on her shoulders didn't seem to lighten even when she spoke.

"I called a thousand times, texted a million more, I begged to talk to you, I sent you letters, I even sent emails, emails Jaemin, and you never responded, not once. I was trying so hard, and you, you weren't even trying at all."

Jaemin felt a knot tighten in his stomach, uncertainty coursing through his veins. The anger he thought he should have felt was replaced by a deep concern, making him question everything he swore he had known for so long.

"You think I cut you off for no reason?" perhaps he should've made a more conscious effort to soothe her worries, but Jaemin felt it, his clammy palms, his shaky hands, he was on the edge— ready to spiral if he had to listen any further. The need to defend himself, and perhaps, to really get to the bottom of this, was compelling.

Everything he did, blocking her number and her contacts, ignoring her countless knocks at the door and her shouts for him across the street, all of it, came flooding back into his mind.

For a moment, he wondered if she really deserved it at all?

"You were all I had y/n, all I needed really, and you think I just did this all for no reason. I know you're not stupid enough to think that." He chuckles— sourly. "You left me," he corrects. "Broke every promise you'd ever made to me and never turned around once to apologise"

It felt like he was speaking gibberish, like his words didn't make sense, and his emotions came out of nowhere, a throbbing now making Y/n's head spin. This act Jaemin was putting on was good, too good.

"Stop speaking in riddles, what do you mean?"

"I mean, you don't get to stand there and pretend this is all my fault," he snaps, sharp and honest. "You left me at regionals, after promising you would be there, you left me to fend for myself after knowing what I would've had to give up if I competed, what I did give up. Y/n you left me, betrayed me in fact, so don't you dare make this my fault."

You left me— the words rang in her ears.

But she didn't.

Y/n didn't remember much, not from that point in her life, after she'd made every attempt forget it, but she remembered this, and she remembered it so vividly. Regionals hadn't gone ahead that year. She was certain. They were cancelled, she tried desperately to recollect. And then it hit her.

As Jaemin stared at her, the pieces began to fall into place. Y/n felt her heart drop. Just how stupid could she be?

"They didn't cancel the competition?" she asked, each syllable thick with a newfound shame.

"Of course not" he scoffed, "Why would you think that"

Jaemin almost rolled his eyes.

But then he saw it, the way her skin had drained of its colour. Y/n's lips trembled, she fidgeted with her fingers, picking at the skin that surrounded her nail beds, flicking the hair tie against her wrist. Something wasn't right. Y/n finally realised what she had done, and god, she felt like such a fool. The truth hit hard, and it hit fast.

"I'm so sorry, jaem," her head hung low with embarrassment, but her stare still held his, as if she could only convey the sheer sincerity of hers through her eyes. The weight of her words hung between them, and Jaemin could feel the atmosphere shift around him, the heat that rushed to his head before was now replaced with a harsh knocking against his ribs, cold feet and constricted air.

He wanted answers. He needed to know.

"Y/n what happened that day. Tell me."

The signs, they'd had been clear as day, and now, she wondered why she'd believed him, after his constant let downs and disapproval for her sport, his constant attempts to sabotage her and her career.

The organisers had all gotten into a car crash on their way to the competition, that why the competition didn't go ahead— that's what her dad had told her.

Regret settled in her chest as she fought to intake enough oxygen.

Her head shook, frantic and fevered, there was no way.

She couldn't believe it.

Her father lied to her, and she'd been naive enough to believe him.

It was all her fault.

Her stupidity had cost Jaemin so much. It had cost them so much. Everything.

But she didn't know how to tell him.

Her eyes focused on Jaemin, but he seemed blurry and hazy. In fact, soon enough, he was spinning.

Y/n struggled to keep her footing, her legs wobbling beneath her. It was as if the ground was shifting, and she couldn't find her balance, her mind racing with thoughts that only fueled her anxiety. The bitter taste of guilt residing on her tongue, harsh and unforgiving.

"I need you to breathe for me, peach. I'm right here. Just breathe."

But she needed to get it off her chest. She had to.

"He said they cancelled the competition. He lied."

"Who did?" Jaemin was beyond confused, her sentence too short and vague for him to understand what she was getting at. Still, his heart skipped a beat, panicked.

"My dad."

It was as if a fog had lifted, and suddenly, everything made sense. Really and truly, it felt impossible. A brutal clarity.

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[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Five: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, arm/hand kink, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, suicide/death metaphor[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is and always will be the most romantic man to exist, that is all. Psycho!Stalker!Ani loves counting idk he just does & I know it.[diary entries from Ani] [texts from Luke] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

You’d better be glad I’m patient, or else you’d have another dead neighbor.

When I heard the *wwoop* of your phone sending out a text on my computer I didn’t check it immediately. Until I heard four *pings* in quick succession.

‘Lukey, call me.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m in class.’

‘10 mins’

‘Or emergency?’

Remember how I said I like Luke? I like him a little bit less. Who texts like that… just write a sentence like a normal person. One sentence.

‘emergency!!’

Emergency? The panic that flooded my veins was icy-hot as I frantically pulled up a the live feed of your home and blasted the volume.

Nothing.

You were just sitting on the couch snacking on those Extra Toasty Cheezits that you love so much. (Cheezits was a marketing genius for that though, profiting off burnt ones because little weirdos like you lived for that one random burnt piece at the bottom of the bag. Goofy girl.)

That doesn’t seem very ‘emergency!!’ to me. Unless you’ve run out of Cheezits, but you haven’t. I would know.

I chewed my nails, paced the floor, and wrung out my hands. I couldn’t just walk over there and say ‘Hey! Just wanted to make sure you’re okay cause I cloned your phone and saw a concerning text! How can I help?’.

You seemed fine, you weren’t crying, you didn’t look upset. You just started scrolling through Instagram reels and rapid-fire sending them to your sister as if she’d actually watch them all. We all know she won’t, but if you ask she’ll say she did.

‘step out. emergency!!’

‘no, give me 4. it can wait.’

Jesus Luke, are you trying to make me dislike you? I can’t believe you’d make her wait like that. The girl said it’s an emergency. That means pick up the fucking phone, dial her fucking number and say ‘I’m on my way, what’s going on?’

Drop everything and fucking run. I’d jump from a moving train if I got that text from you. Train station who? I have two legs and I can run pretty fast as long as I have the right motivation.

Pass a kid on a bike? ‘Scuse me I’m commandeering this vehicle.’ I’d be the fucking flash with pink tassels and purple glow wheels.

‘Now!!’

The suspense was literally killing me. I was withering away with worry.

‘if it’s the guy again I swear to god.’

Guy? What guy? What had I missed? There was a guy in your life that wasn’t me?

‘just fucking call me.’

Yeah, you heard the girl. Fucking call her already.

“No he did not.” Luke scoffed, as if what you’d told him was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in ages.

“I swear. I swear he did!” You giggled folding over on the couch.

“There’s no way a straight man did that for you and didn’t try to fuck.” Luke laughed. “I don’t believe you. You’re delusional.”

“I am not!” You defended, not actually hurt by his comment but wanting to prove him wrong anyway.

“I literally don’t believe you.” He let out a snort and whispered something to Han on the other end of the line. “Han said he’s still set on Ben for you.”

“I told you I am not interested. There’s a reason I never texted him!” You retorted.

“Yeah because you lost his number you pea-brain.” He teased.

“No.” You said with a slightly haughty tone. “I happen to believe it was just the universe telling me it wasn’t meant to be.”

“That’s a really good justification for loosing his number.” Han’s voice came through the speaker slightly muffled from his distance.

“Shut up both of you. You’re horrible.” You laughed. “I’m sticking to it. The universe said no and I’m no match for the powers that be, m’kay?”

“Sure babes.” Luke said, you could almost hear his stupid little smirk.

“Anyway. Yes, look I’ll send you a picture of the book okay?” You hopped up quickly and snapped a picture to send to Luke’s phone. “Cause I can’t exactly send you a picture of him helping me with my groceries.”

“Mmhmm I know because it didn’t happen.” Luke said flatly. “Hard to get a picture of a hallucination.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, Luke was just being protective. It’s not like he was wrong, most men wouldn’t do something like that out of the kindness of their heart.

“This would be so much easier if you had an iPhone. You might be hideous but I still miss your face.” You teased, hearing Han’s booming laugh in the background.

“Whatever.” Luke grumbled, “okay, so what am I looking at here?”

“See it’s this collection of paper that has typed out wo-“

“Smartass. I mean: what’s so… cool? about it?” He interrupted.

“It’s a special edition. $50. He just gave me a special edition book without a second thought.” You said excitedly. “Remember I lost my copy not too long ago?”

“Mmm yeah I think I remember.” He said noncommittally. “You should really keep up with your shit.”

“Hey I’m doing better!” You retorted. “My life is so put together right now. You’d be amazed.”

“Delusional Han I’m telling you.” He snickered quietly.

“Oh my god! Have you no faith in me at all?” You scoffed. “I haven’t forgotten to charge my phone or take my medicine. I’ve kept everything tidy. All my important stuff stays in my bag.”

“You’ve been possessed.” Luke gasped.

“Fuck. If I have then I’ve got the sweetest demon the 7th circle could provide.” You joked. “I’ve even been sleeping better, I think maybe even boogie is happier too. She’s started sitting at the living room window to watch the pigeons again.”

“Aw, my niece.” He crooned. “My *favorite* niece.”

“What about leia’s new-“

“I said what I said.” Luke interrupted.

Diary Entry: July 8th

The way you gushed about me on the phone was everything I could’ve asked for and more. I’ve never been so fucking proud of myself. I feel like I could… I don’t know lift a fucking car or something. I feel good. This is a good feeling, to be appreciated like this.

I want you to know how happy you’ve made me today.

To hear your voice, see your face, watch your body language as you spoke about how we met and our little chat today. I could live off purely that for days. Your giggle is nourishment for my soul, your voice is honey to drink with my tea, your beauty is the sugar in the much-to-big spoon I’d use to stir it with.

That’s what life with you would be like. Tea time. It’s soft, I always think of tea time as being soft; a big blanket of comfort and security. I just feel like it’s the perfect metaphor.

You are the ingredients. The tea leaves, honey, sugar, and water.

I am the the cup and life, fate, whatever it may be, is the spoon.

Can you use all of those things separately? Sure. But would it make much sense to pour hot water on a pile of dry leaves, drizzle some honey and sprinkle sugar into a goopy puddle right on the kitchen counter?

Would it be enjoyable to drink air from a small cup and leave the spoon lonely and unused?

No.

You need me to hold you; you are so many things. All of them are perfect and all of them are uniquely you. But when joined together in a secure little cup you’ll have the opportunity to mesh those things into something new.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it. Cold and empty ceramic. Sturdy and reliable although delicate when handled irresponsibly.

Fill me with you. All of you.

You’ve already started that you know? Each tea leaf is a tidbit of you.

Your likes and dislikes. Your happiest memories and even your sad ones, your angry moments, your bad days. I love and cherish even the deepest caverns and widest chasms in your beautiful mind. Without them, you wouldn’t be you.

Please believe me when I say that even if the leaves are crumpled or incomplete… it doesn’t mean that they won’t make tea.

Honey, my favorite. Your personality. God you’re so fucking sweet it hurts. Your voice, those lovely lips that speak such well written poetry.

My love, everything you say is a hymn.

I wasn’t a religious man before you. My Goddess, I fall to my knees at the altar for you. Speak to me and you’ll sing to my very soul. Tell me truth, tell me lies, tell me those things that float through the nether. I’ll take it all as gospel.

Ask of me anything and I will spill blood, even if it is my own, to provide you with whatever you wish.

I never understood why honey was akin to the nectar of the gods until I met you.

Now I understand. To taste you is to taste life. To smell you is to breathe freely. To feel you is to be soothed.

Sugar. Do you know how many grains of sugar are in the average tablespoon? Around 60,000. The human eye processes visuals at the average rate of 13 milliseconds per image. Even faster if presented with an image that invokes emotion. Though for the purposes of math, we will go with 13 milliseconds.

13 milliseconds is about 75 frames per second. 60 seconds in one minute. 4,500 frames.

If the average tablespoon holds 60,000 grains of sugar that’s 270,000,000 frames per second.

4,500,000 minutes. 75,000 hours. 3,125 days. About 102 months. Alittle over 8 years.

I use 3 tablespoons of sugar per cup of tea.

That means by our 25 anniversary I will have been graced with every grain of your beauty.

By then I’ll probably need a few more spoonfuls if I plan to survive raising children with you. If they’re as hyperactive as you get sometimes I’ll fucking need it.

Oh well. Just more time for me to bask in your beauty.

All these things have filled me, your cup. All that I need now is water. Your love.

The kind of love that burns so hot that it bubbles up beneath your skin and makes you itch if you’re apart for too long.

That’s what happens when water boils, the atoms separate and bounce around until they come back together as the water cools.

Just like us.

I’m the flame that’s heating your water, the closer I get the hotter it’ll grow until it’s rattling the kettle, screaming to be let out and bring all the pieces together.

Adding that boiling water, your love. It will bring life to me. You’ll warm the cold ceramic shell that I’ve been for so long. Fragile and lonely and horribly handled. I might have a few chips but the foundation is strong and worthy.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it.

You give me purpose. You make me useful.

I will let our love steep. Let it steep, because you can’t make tea without all the ingredients and a water-worthy cup.

We will stir it and stir it and stir it until the the hand of fate declares us ready, I will be there for you at the *clink* of the spoon against my rim.

I will be there after to hold you until the very last sip.

I will be there until I am broken beyond repair.

If the last sip happens before my ceramic cracks… I will be quick to join you after slipping through the hands of fate.

It’s a long winded way to say that I love you, but if you wanted, I would memorize it and recite it for you every night before drift to sleep.

Diary Entry: July 12th

You’re so cute.

I don’t know how you haven’t noticed that your laundry detergent should’ve run out ages ago. I giggle like a school girl everytime I see you at the laundromat holding it up to measure it out.

I’ve started washing my stuff in the same as you, I love the way your laundry smells.

But I love the way you smell even more.

You just bought some new sheets recently and I took the liberty of ordering the same ones. What luck that we both use a queen size bed huh? The cutesy little strawberry print isn’t exactly my style but I don’t give a shit. The giddy way you opened up your package was nothing short of adorable.

You know what else is super handy about using the same detergent?

You won’t notice when I switch them out.

You’re washing them for the first time today since you just received them in the mail yesterday. I know you’re so excited to put them on and make your pretty pink bed up, I’m amazed you had the patience to wait until today to go to the laundromat. It’s open 24/7, proud of you baby. Prioritizing that good deep sleep you’ve been getting.

You’re welcome, and thank you.

Watching you sleep from the end of the bed is one of my favorite things. It just… I don’t know it makes me feel comforted to be there. It’s the closest thing to sleeping next to you that I can get right now. Then I’ll be getting some good deep sleep.

It’s hard for me to rest if I can’t reach out and make sure you’re safe.

The audio from your room is wonderful ASMR though. Your snores and snuffles and the rustling of blankets while you sprawl out and occupy as much space as your body can manage; it’s soothing to me.

Partially because I know you’re okay, partially because I was able to give you that deep rest.

You wash your sheets once a week because you love the feeling of fresh warm linens. It’s the simple pleasures of life that bring you the most joy. That’s something I adore about you.

So here’s the plan. I’m a man of my word and I promised you a reward for all your hard work didn’t I? I’m also a man who enjoys the killing of two birds with one stone.

Life goes so much more smoothly if you take the time to line up the shot.

That’s why I immediately ordered my own set as soon as I checked your Amazon account. Mine arrived today too and I’ll be stopping by the laundromat just as you’re leaving. I’ve left them in the box and put it at the bottom of my basket though, I don’t want to ruin the surprise you know?

I’m so glad I was able to hear your little chat with your friends. Not only was it a wonderful reassurance, it also allowed me to plan our encounters more closely together. I’ve made myself known to you, I’ve spaced out our previous meetings well enough to leave you wishing you’d catch me out in the hallway even for a quick hello.

Trust me I have been dying to indulge you. But if this whole relationship has taught me anything it’s: trust the process.

See you soon princess, my timer just went off. I’ll be there just in time to watch you nuzzle your face into the last warm item of clothing from the dryer before tossing it in the basket.

Date:

July 12th

You were tossing the last of your clean laundry into the basket when the bell above the door jingled. Purely out of habit you glanced over, instead of the usual stranger or semi-familiar face, it was Anakin.

He seemed not to notice you straight away, keeping his head down and walking to the washer/dryer set closest to the front window.

It was shameful the way you took this opportunity to stare and soak him up. His whole physique just screamed at the primal parts of your brain. The parts that want you to sprint across the laundromat and l seduce him into ravaging you right up against the glass he stood near. Who cares who sees? You’d be beyond proud to be spotted in the throes of passion as long as it was him who was behind you.

The way his arms moved should be illegal. How is it possible for someone to be so… lean? The veins that and corded tendons that roll beneath his skin become even more visible as his wrist gives way to his hands.

Wide palms that would be perfect for grabbing a handful of your ass. Gripping your hips to guide you down onto what you can only assume is an equally impressive cock.

Long fingers as the most elegantly carved necklace. Fingertips that could trace swirling patterns across the vast expanse of your skin. Those same fingertips caressing the slick and swollen folds that just so happened to be in desperate need of his attention.

How could you not be a puddle of a person when he locks eyes with you like that? Like he’s reading the transcript of your soul, his eyes never stayed in one place too long. He needed to take in as much of you as possible each and everytime he was in your company.

How could you not forget how to speak when he walks over to you with such confidence? His towering frame would be intimidating if he didn’t radiate comfort. He seemed like he knew he had that affect on you, or maybe he was just one of those clueless types. That special kind of man who doesn’t realize what a catch they are.

“What’s up sweet girl?” He asked with that same gritty tone that had you feigning for him in ways he’d find unholy.

“Hey Anakin.” You managed to tone down the smile that instantly spread across your face. “I was just about to leave…”

“Well isn’t that a shame.” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again before he looked up and away. Stretching his arm up behind his head to rub his neck.

“Hmm yeah it is.” You murmured, too distracted by the tiny sliver of skin and dark hair the peaked out from beneath the hem of his shirt.

“Eyes up baby.” He teased, his finger tapping the underside of your chin before you could even register his hand was coming toward you.

‘Jesus Christ.’

If he can make your knees this weak from a few words… it’s almost concerning to think of the state you’d be in after he rearranges your guts.

The blush on your cheeks could’ve been mistaken for a sunburn, never had you felt so fucking embarrassed and flustered at the same time. You couldn’t even be mad.

“Let me help, yeah?” He said, choosing to glaze over your blatant staring and not push it farther with the teasing comments.

Truly a gentleman.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks.”

You managed a soft smile as your brain attempted to rewire itself into working condition again. He closed the dryer and placed your detergent and fabric softener beads into your basket and carried them over to his washer/dryer combo, expecting you to follow.

He sat it down near one of the many metal folding chairs lining the wall and turned to you again, his expression one of concern? Worry? Apprehension?

“You okay sweetheart?” He asked gently. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Uncomfortable? No, no.” You shook your head in realization that he must’ve assumed he’d struck a nerve with his flirtatious comment.

“You sure?” He asked.

Somehow his hands, those strong hands that you just knew would feel like heaven on your skin, had made their way to your biceps. Slowly traveling the length of your forearm to hold both of your hands in his, your fingers curved over his while his thumb rubbed your knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You nodded, shooting him a bashful smile.

His eyes searched your face like he was scanning for even the most minuscule change in expression, any twitch of your lip or shift in your line of sight that might say otherwise. When he was sure you were being truthful he spoke again.

“Alright princess,” he conceded with a warm tone. “you sticking around or headed out?”

“I’d stay to chat for a bit if I could, but I’ve gotta clock-in, in about… 45mins.” You said, thankful for the change in subject.

Anakin never failed to both confuse and amaze you. Every fucking time you spoke to him. You were tired of telling yourself he was just too damn good to be true, fuck it, he is that good.

In all your years, you’d never had a man check-in with you like that and in such a caring and considerate way… you couldn’t have dreamed up a man like this. It was a small detail of his character, but it made a world of a difference.

If you would’ve said ‘yes, that made me uncomfortable.’ you had no doubt in your mind that he would apologize and mean it. He’d mean it, apologize with his whole chest and make sure that it never ever happened again.

That was the kind of comfort and security that only a fictional love could provide.

But here he is.

In the flesh.

Maybe hearing about this, Luke might change his mind. Luke was only doing his job as your best friend and protector, shielding you from the dangers of the average Brad that you’d dated in the past. But…

Anakin’s not that kinda guy.

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me where you work.” Anakin pointed out.

“Huh, I guess I haven’t.” You realized. “Bluebird Diner. It’s a good place to eat, yummy pie.”

“Oh yeah I’ve been there before!” Anakin said happily, “that butterscotch pie is so good, oh my god.”

“Right?” You agreed excitedly. “That’s my favorite. I’ll have to tell Rosa that she’s getting compliments on it. She’ll be thrilled.”

“Maybe I’ll grab a slice later.” Anakin suggested. “Before I have to go clock-in.”

“Where do you work?” You asked, finding it a bit comical that you were drooling over him but didn’t even know this basic detail of his life.

“The Cerulean.” Anakin nodded toward the window. “Just a couple blocks from here.”

“The Cerulean? What do you do, bartend?” You asked, curious as alittle itch in the back of your mind needed to be scratched.

“Mhm, I do.” He smiled.

“I think… oh my god. I think I’ve seen you there before!” You laughed. “It was a while back but I was there with some friends… you made my drink!”

“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Shit don’t make me feel bad baby, I don’t remember that.”

“I didn’t expect you too.” You giggled. “The place was packed. I can’t imagine how many people you serve a night.”

“You’ve got no idea.” He blew out a puff of air, with a chuckle.

“Well I’m due for a night out soon,” you said with a grin. “You come grab some pie later and I’ll come get a drink from you tomorrow night.”

“Sounds like a deal princess.” He beamed.

Part Six

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @lonaah @t8lzw @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[sylusslittlekitten]

Luke and Kieran’s Advent Calendar

Day 16 – MYSTERY BOX DAY

Hosted by ©Sylusslittlekitten - All rights reserved

See the whole calendar here

Crack Post Masterlist here

Presented by Luke and Kieran

LUKE: Welcome to Mystery Box Day, where we show love through mild psychological warfare and confusing packaging.

KIERAN: The rules are simple: every hour, Sylus gets a box. Could be a gift. Could be a crab. Could be emotional trauma.

LUKE: He made it through sixteen of them before walking out.

KIERAN: That’s personal growth.

LUKE: That’s restraint.

KIERAN: That’s love.

LUKE: I opened the rest. I regret at least four. Maybe five. Possibly the socks. [side eyes Kieran]

KIERAN: One box made him smile. That’s it. That’s the victory. That’s the birthday miracle.

LUKE: So scroll down. Witness the chaos. Pick your favourite. And remember—he asked for none of this.

KIERAN: And we did it anyway. Because love is unhinged.

-

Box 1 – Confetti Bomb.

Kieran: “Happy birthday, bitch!”

Sylus: “I will end you.”

Kieran: “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Box 2 – A Live Crab.

Luke: “His name is ‘Snip Snip.’ He likes jazz.”

Sylus: [Glaring. Side-stepping.] “Contain your crustacean.”

Box 3 – One Scented Candle. Called “Dark Brood.”

Kieran: “It’s supposed to smell like you.”

Sylus: “This smells like gunpowder and bad choices.”

Kieran: “Exactly.”

Box 4 – A framed photo of Sylus mid-eye roll.

Luke: “Caught in 4K, baby.”

Sylus: “…How did you get that?”

Box 5 – A glittery pink plush knife.

Kieran: “So you can murder cutely.”

Sylus: [Holding it. Considering it.]

Luke: “He’s keeping it.”

Sylus: [Hands it to Snip Snip.]

Box 6 – A single sock. Not his. No context.

Sylus: “Is this a threat?”

Kieran: “It’s a mystery.”

Box 7 – A little black book labelled ‘Sylus’ Threat Diary.’

Luke: “We filled it with your best insults.”

Sylus: [Flipping through] “Page 42 is out of order.”

Kieran: “He noticed.”

Box 8 – A recording device playing back his sighs, looped.

Kieran: “We call it ‘Soundtrack for the Soul’”

Sylus: [Presses stop. Doesn’t delete it.]

Box 9 – A child’s tiara. Bedazzled. With the word “Boss.”

Sylus: [Silently puts it on.]

Luke & Kieran: [Screaming internally.]

Box 10 – A donut. No explanation. It’s shaped like his face.

Sylus: “…Do I eat it? Is this cannibalism?”

Box 11 – A dramatic cape. Black. Silk-lined. Billowy as fuck.

Luke: “Because you act like a vampire, may as well look the part!”

Sylus: [Puts it on. Instantly looks 30% more terrifying.]

Box 12 – Fingerless gloves with reinforced knuckles and “BITE” stitched on the knuckles.

Kieran: “In case the enemies forget.”

Sylus: [Quiet nod. Wears them immediately.]

Box 13 – A cup of water labelled ‘Emotional Support.’

Sylus: [Drinks it. Doesn’t comment.]

Kieran: “He felt that.”

Box 14 – A tactical plush frog in full SWAT gear.

Kieran: “He’s your emotional support assassin.”

Sylus: “…Why does he have a radio?”

Luke: “He listens to crime podcasts.”

Box 15 – A black notebook. Blank inside. Title: ‘Plans.’

Sylus: [Flips it open. Starts writing immediately.]

Kieran: “He’s journaling! Emotionally or violently?!”

Luke: “Both.”

Box 16 – A full-sized cutout of Sylus with a speech bubble: ‘Shut Up, Kieran.’

Kieran: “I feel seen.”

Sylus: [Nods in approval.]

Box 17 – A pair of novelty socks that say ‘Daddy’

Sylus: [stares at Kieran.]

Kieran: “WHAT?!”

Box 18 – A thermos of perfectly brewed black coffee.

Sylus: [Pauses. Sips. Smiles.]

Luke: “Holy shit. He smiled. Day 16. 6PM. We broke the beast.”

Box 19 – Another Live Crab.

Kieran: “We thought Snip Snip needed a friend. Named him Little Pinch.”

Live Crab: [Blinks at Sylus]

Sylus: [Picks up phone.]

Sylus: “Rafayel?!”

Box 20 – A rubber duck dressed like a mafia boss.

Sylus: “…Duckfather.”

Kieran: “You named it. YOU NAMED IT.”

Box 21 – A sticker sheet. All of them say “Do Not Perceive Me.”

Sylus: “Give me the whole set.”

Box 22 – A weighted blanket in pure black, called ‘The Void.’

Luke: “For emotional pressure and warmth.”

Sylus: [Wrapped in it within 30 seconds.]

Box 23 – A tea towel embroidered with “I Brood Therefore I Am.”

Kieran: “You can use it while making death threats.”

Sylus: “…I’m keeping this in the kitchen.”

Sylus: [Starts twisting ready to whip.]

Box 24 – A nap voucher. Good for 1 hour. Valid only if he agrees to be cuddled.

Sylus: “…Who’s doing the cuddling?”

Luke & Kieran: [Both raise hands. Sylus walks away. The voucher is gone the next morning.]

Hosted by ©Sylusslittlekitten - All rights reserved

See the whole calendar here

Crackpost Masterlist here

[rogersandclarke]

mutual 1: see the thing about obi wan is that even if he could get pregnant he would do a force-abortion on himself because he believes that strongly in adoption

mutual 2: do you think matt damon was seething and coping when j-lo dropped "dear ben" or do you think matt and ben were still hooking up at this time? essentially if the album dropped in 2002, the bennifer engagement is nov 2002-january 2004, and matt gets married in 2005,

mutual 3: my ebay bidding war for paul reubens's spit in a jar is going really well due to the psychic attacks i've been sending to the other bidder

mutual 4: local authorities wont let me into this abandoned hoarder house in rural wyoming. dies horribly. #i love drunk driving

mutual 5: listen ive studied rpf for years you dont understand. the homoerotic undercurrent of britpop is a different breed than what george and bob had going on. theres a playful aura facilitated by the early 90s

mutual 6: i am going to pound philip seymour hoffman into the ground so lovingly

mutual 7: im doing crazy things to davy jones pussy over here

mutual 8: thinking of writing my thesis on the evolution of rpf #no don't look at my lb diary yes i watched 10 martin & lewis movies this week

mutual 9: you see robbie and bob were having on and off trysts ever since robbie stopped him from killing himself in 1966 but it took martin scorseses tender devotion to show robbie how unhealthy that was

mutual 10: thankfully neil young started estrogen in early 1970. otherwise she never couldve made harvest

mutual 11: how minutes of semi-truck sound effects do you guys think i can play on my radio show before people start tuning away

mutual 12: put this post underwater sorry. but i just feel so angry when people post about their mutuals like they're people they never talk to. i've moved to different countries three times for my mutuals.

mutual 13: [picture of orson welles and anthony perkins laughing on the set of the trial] do you think they ever fucked #hot! #who said that

mutual 14: i think i could fix norman bates if we got married and adopted the eraserhead baby together.

mutual 15: [picture of a computer fucking itself]

mutual 16: m sooooo girl drink drunk daveeeeee

mutual 17: eroticism of the machine? uhhh yeah only if the machine is a sexy car #STOP PUTTING THOSE COMPUTER PICTURES ON MY DASH

mutual 18: my warriors in maine are one step closer to slipping cocaine back into stephen kings food so he can be a good writer again

mutual 19: you don't understand. walton goggins isn't just gay in the show. he also walks gay in real life. you have to understand this.

mutual 20: im going to kidnap mike stoklasa and only release him when he makes a post coming out as bisexual

EDIT: ETHAN LET ME POST THIS: mutual 21: do you think lana del rey and joan baez are hooking up. why is lana with her everywhere and introducing her documentary and doing all these things. we KNOW joan is bisexual. do you think

[inkedwithcharm]

The Sunflower Next Door | Kim Seokjin

Chapter 2: “Sunshine & Silence”

It became a ritual.

After brushing your teeth, after reading a chapter of whatever library book you were slowly devouring, and just before you turned off the hallway light—you would write a note.

Nothing big. Nothing dramatic. Just a few words of kindness, folded into a square and gently placed on the door of your neighbor.

Hope you had a warm lunch today.

—Y/N 🌼

The moon looked lovely tonight. Did you see it?

Reminder: even the smallest wins count.

You never saw him read them. Never heard footsteps behind you or a door creaking open. But every morning, the note was gone.

And that was enough.

The city had begun to hum beneath your feet in a rhythm you were starting to enjoy. Seoul moved fast, but you didn’t try to keep up. You let it pass like water around you—walking at your own pace, stopping to admire flower stands or street musicians, collecting moments instead of destinations.

Your aunt had called from Osaka to check in again. “Still eating well? Still behaving?”

You promised her you were.

Mostly.

Your condition hadn’t worsened—not yet. But the fatigue came in waves. The stiffness in your hands was more noticeable some mornings. And sometimes, you woke up with your lungs feeling like they had to be reminded how to breathe.

Still, you moved.

Still, you smiled.

Still, you left kindness like crumbs behind you, hoping maybe someone would follow them back to the part of the world where people still believed in softness.

You’d spent the afternoon under a tree at the park by the river, reading poetry and people-watching. You even made a tiny sketch of a pigeon that had stared at you for fifteen full minutes like it had questions about your existence.

By the time you returned, your backpack was full, your hands were cold, and your cheeks were warm with the joy of just… living.

You entered the lobby and pushed the elevator button.

Ding.

The doors opened—and there he was.

Black sweater. White collar peeking out. Eyes as tired as ever.

Kim Seokjin.

You stepped in quietly, smiling at him. “Hi.”

He gave a small nod, glancing forward. “Hey.”

You weren’t expecting anything else. You were used to his walls by now.

But then—his voice.

“Are you the one leaving those notes?”

Your heart stuttered in the most unexpected way.

You turned to him, blinking. “I am. Sorry—was that annoying?”

He looked at you, his gaze unreadable. “No. I just didn’t know who’d be that… persistent.”

You laughed softly. “I prefer the word consistent.”

He almost—almost—smiled. Just the corner of his mouth shifted before he caught himself.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said gently. “I just thought… maybe a good word at the right time could change something.”

Seokjin didn’t reply right away. The elevator climbed slowly. Floor 10… 11…

“People don’t usually think like that,” he said finally.

You shrugged. “I think they used to. Maybe they forgot.”

A beat.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you added. “But I think you already knew that.”

“I did,” he admitted.

“Are you… always this quiet?” you teased gently, then regretted it. “Sorry, that was rude.”

To your surprise, he looked at you and said, “Only when I don’t know what to say.”

You smiled. “That’s fair.”

Floor 22.

The elevator dinged.

As the doors opened, he gestured slightly. “You first.”

You stepped out, heartbeat fluttering as he followed behind.

“Goodnight, Seokjin-ssi.”

He glanced at you. Then, after a pause, said quietly:

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what it was about those three syllables—your name, in his voice—but it stayed with you. Like something warm and heavy you tucked under your ribs.

You entered your apartment and leaned your back against the door, smiling at the ceiling.

That brief moment—that small, normal conversation—meant more to you than it should have.

And you didn’t mind at all.

Later that night-

You sat cross-legged on the bed, journal open on your lap.

You hadn’t written much about Seokjin in your diary—not really. Just little thoughts. Words like:

I think he carries sadness like a second coat.

He’s not cold, just frozen.

Maybe his silence is how he keeps from breaking.

Tonight, you simply wrote:

He said goodnight to me today.

It was nothing. But it was something.

You walked to your desk, pulled out a fresh sticky note, and wrote slowly, carefully:

Note:

Even quiet people can be kind. Thanks for today.

—Y/N 🌼

You stepped into the hallway, barefoot, quiet, soft.

And you left it on his door.

Just like always.

But this time, you knew he was reading them.

And maybe, just maybe…

He was starting to wonder why.

Seoul was quieter at night.

Not quiet, really—there was always a soft hum underneath, the city’s version of a lullaby—but everything felt slower, gentler, more forgiving. The moon hung like a low whisper in the sky, and the wind had a hush to it, as though the whole city was exhaling after a long day.

You hadn’t meant to come to the rooftop.

You’d only gone out for water, but something about the heavy stillness of your apartment made you crave open air. So you grabbed your cardigan, slipped your phone into your pocket, and took the elevator up.

And when the doors slid open—

He was already there.

Leaning slightly against the railing, dressed in soft black and gray. Hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, head tilted back toward the stars like he’d just remembered they were still up there.

Kim Seokjin.

He didn’t hear you at first. Or maybe he did, but didn’t move.

You considered turning around and pretending you’d never come.

But instead, you stepped forward softly.

“Didn’t think anyone else would be up here,” you said, quiet but clear.

His eyes flicked to you, surprised. He didn’t frown like he usually did. Just nodded, slow. “Could say the same.”

You gave a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to ruin your peace.”

He didn’t respond for a few seconds, then said, “You’re not.”

It wasn’t warm, exactly—but it wasn’t cold either.

And somehow, that felt like progress.

You settled on the far end of the bench, leaving enough space between you for the quiet to settle in comfortably. The wind teased at the edges of your cardigan, and you wrapped it a little tighter around you.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

The city stretched out beneath you like a sea of lights, the Han River glinting in the distance like a silver ribbon. You listened to the occasional car horn, the soft creak of a rooftop vent, and the way the wind curled around the building.

Then his voice broke the stillness.

“You’re… the type who leaves notes for strangers.”

You looked over, eyes glinting with mischief. “You figured me out.”

“I don’t understand it,” he admitted.

“What?”

“Why you do it.”

You turned your head, watching him instead of the skyline. “Why not? Words are free. Kindness costs nothing.”

He looked at you, and you noticed something shift in his eyes—confusion, curiosity, maybe a crack in whatever wall he’d built around himself.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being… upbeat?”

You smiled, not offended. “All the time.”

“Then why keep doing it?”

You breathed in, long and slow, letting the cool air fill your lungs. “Because not everything lasts forever. And while I’m still here, I’d rather live in color than grayscale.”

Seokjin stared at you then. His brow furrowed, like he couldn’t decide if you were serious or just trying to sound poetic.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like a small truce.

You both sat there, shoulder-lengths apart, watching the city buzz far below while the rooftop stayed still.

Then, softly, he asked, “You moved here recently?”

You nodded. “A few weeks ago. I’m staying with my aunt while I get some medical things sorted out.”

He didn’t ask more. Just nodded. That was enough.

“And you?” you asked. “Have you lived here long?”

“A while,” he said. “Too long, maybe.”

There was a weight in his voice that you didn’t press. But something about it made your chest ache a little.

You saw it now—not the sharpness he showed the world, but the quiet, exhausted loneliness underneath. Not anger, but absence. Like something important had been hollowed out and never quite filled again.

You didn’t know what had happened. You didn’t ask.

But in that moment, you stopped seeing him as the cold man next door.

And started seeing him as someone trying.

Eventually, he stood. “I should get back.”

You looked up, a little disappointed, but nodded. “Of course. Don’t let the city pull you under.”

He glanced back at you. “What?”

You smiled. “Just something I say to myself when things get heavy.”

He didn’t smile. But his eyes softened.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The way he said your name—it wasn’t formal this time. Not distant. Just a little quieter. More human.

You watched him walk toward the elevator, and your heart felt full for reasons you couldn’t quite explain.

That night, you left another note on his door. Short, sweet, warm.

Note:

It’s nice to talk to someone under the stars. Hope you got home safely.

—Y/N 🌼

You smiled to yourself as you slipped back into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

And maybe it was nothing.

But it felt like the start of something.

The rooftop used to mean nothing.

A flat concrete space, too quiet for comfort, too high for him to feel grounded. The kind of place people romanticized but rarely stayed in for more than a few minutes.

Now, it was part of his nightly routine.

He didn’t plan it that way—he rarely planned anything outside of his calendar—but lately, around 9 or 10, his feet started drifting toward the elevator without him realizing. No phone. No company. Just him and the stillness above the city.

And sometimes, you.

He didn’t always speak to you. Often he just nodded or stood quietly at the opposite end while you filled the air with soft stories about your day—what you saw, who you met, what little joy you stumbled upon. There was no pressure in your presence. No expectation to perform.

Tonight, when the elevator doors opened, you were already there again.

Sitting cross-legged on the bench in your hoodie and skirt, arms wrapped around a thermos, eyes scanning the skyline like the buildings might talk back.

You turned when you heard him. “Hi again,” you said, that same easy smile curling at the edges of your mouth.

He nodded, giving a quiet, “Hey,” as he took his usual spot a few feet away.

You always left space. That, he appreciated.

“I rescued a puppy today,” you said, legs swinging lightly from the bench.

He blinked, unsure if he heard that right. “You what?”

“A puppy. Near the bookstore downtown. She was sitting near a vending machine, all alone. Probably abandoned.” You looked over at him, eyes soft. “She was shaking like a leaf. So I sat with her until someone from a rescue came.”

He didn’t say anything, just listened. Something he did more often around you than most people.

You took a sip of your tea. “I named her Peach. Don’t ask why—it just fit.”

He gave the smallest scoff. “Not a very fierce name.”

“She wasn’t a very fierce dog,” you replied, unfazed. “Some things aren’t meant to be fierce.”

That made him glance at you briefly.

You said things like that often. Strange, floaty comments that should’ve sounded naive but didn’t. Somehow, you always made them seem… honest.

He watched the way your fingers wrapped around your thermos. Noticed the edge of a band-aid on your pinky. You talked about Peach and the café owner who helped you call the shelter, and how the puppy sneezed in the crook of your arm like a baby.

He looked back out over the railing.

“Do you always find stray things?” he asked after a moment.

“Only the ones that want to be found.”

You said it like a joke. He didn’t laugh, but something about the line stayed with him.

The conversation drifted after that.

You didn’t need much from him. Just someone to hear you. That was rare.

Most people who approached him came with a pitch, a motive, or a plan. Even his ex, Mirae, had eventually reduced every conversation to logistics—marriage dates, investment property, shared calendars. Clean. Predictable.

You were none of those things.

And honestly, that unsettled him a little.

When the clock on his phone flashed close to midnight, you stretched your arms overhead and stood.

“Well, I should get some sleep,” you said, yawning into your sleeve. “Peach wore me out today.”

He nodded and didn’t say anything more.

But as you walked past him toward the stairwell, your hand brushed lightly against the railing beside him, and your voice drifted behind you:

“See you tomorrow, maybe.”

Not a question. Not a hope. Just… a simple line.

And yet it echoed a little louder than it should have.

Back in his apartment, Seokjin unbuttoned his coat and found something taped gently to his doorframe.

A small sticky note. Pale yellow. Your handwriting was unmistakable by now.

“Some people need a little sky to remember how big the world is. Hope tonight gave you a little.” —Y/N 🌼

He held it for a second longer than usual before slipping it into the drawer with the others.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was starting to expect them.

Not crave. Not need. Just… expect.

Lying in bed, eyes closed, the thought returned—your voice in the dark, light and certain:

“Some things aren’t meant to be fierce.”

He didn’t know why it mattered.

But tonight, it did.

You were humming when you stepped into the elevator, arms full of groceries. The brown paper bag was just slightly too big for your grip, and the handles dug lightly into your palm. The weight wasn’t unbearable, but it leaned a little awkwardly—kind of like your mood today. Not bad. Just… homesick.

You missed your mom’s cooking. Her rice porridge with wild vegetables. The smell of garlic and sesame oil wafting through your house after a long day at the fields. Her voice calling out to you and your step-sister to come wash up before dinner. You could still hear it sometimes—especially in this quiet, unfamiliar apartment.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened with a smooth, expensive-sounding hush.

And there he was.

Kim Seokjin. Again.

This time in a charcoal wool coat, hair neatly combed back, phone in hand. You almost didn’t recognize him at first without the shadow of a frown on his face.

“Ah—hi,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, cheeks puffing from the cold and exertion.

He looked up slowly, eyes flicking toward the grocery bag in your arms.

“You always carry your whole fridge at once?” he said dryly.

You laughed. “Just missing home. Thought I’d try to cook like my mom today.”

“Hmph.”

That was his response. Not mean. Just neutral. A little more neutral than usual.

You stepped into the elevator beside him and let the silence settle comfortably between you for a moment.

Then, quietly, “I’m making stew. Do you want to eat with me?”

He didn’t turn to you right away. His eyes stayed fixed ahead, as if dinner invitations from strange-but-friendly neighbors happened to him all the time.

“You don’t even know me,” he finally said.

“True. But I’ve seen you enough times to know you might not say yes.”

He turned then, slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile or not.

“I can’t promise I’ll like it,” he said.

You tilted your head. “Well, I can’t promise it’ll be good.”

Back in your apartment, you set the bag down on the counter and exhaled. The silence wrapped around you like a shawl.

You started unpacking slowly—green onions, radish, soybean paste, tofu. Things that reminded you of your mom’s steady hands and the old wooden cutting board that had a permanent curve in the middle from years of use.

You were slicing garlic when the knock came.

Soft, hesitant.

You wiped your hands and opened the door.

Seokjin stood there, hands still in his pockets.

You blinked. “Wow. You actually came.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“I kind of am.”

He glanced behind you into the apartment. “You need help?”

You stared at him, unsure if he meant it.

Then nodded. “Sure. You can wash the mushrooms.”

He followed you in without another word.

The two of you moved around the kitchen like unfamiliar planets slowly learning to orbit. You showed him how to trim the enoki mushrooms (“Not like that,” you said, laughing as he hacked at them too aggressively). He stirred the stew while you prepped the banchan. And somewhere between the sesame oil and gochugaru, you started talking.

“You cook often?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Used to. Not much lately.”

“What do you do then?”

He paused for a second. “I run a company.”

“Oh. That sounds… big.”

He shrugged, like it wasn’t. “It just sounds important. Most days it’s exhausting.”

“What kind of company?”

“Tech. Apps. Nothing romantic.”

You smiled. “Doesn’t have to be romantic to matter.”

He glanced sideways at you, lips pressed together like he didn’t quite know what to make of your answer.

“And you?” he asked. “What’s your countryside life like?”

You stirred the pot gently. “I work at a tiny library. Mostly local kids and elderly visitors. I help my parents at the farm too—well, my mom and stepdad. We grow radish, onions, cabbage. In spring, the whole house smells like soil and mint.”

He looked at you, still stirring. “That doesn’t sound real.”

You laughed. “I promise it is. I have a step-sister too. We fight over silly things. But she’s my best friend.”

He was quiet for a beat. “And you came here… just for treatment?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t ask more. And you were grateful for that.

By the time dinner was ready, the table had transformed into something soft and domestic. The steam from the stew rose between you, and your apartment—usually so polished and quiet—felt a little more like home.

You both sat, legs curled under the low table, and began to eat.

He took a bite of the soup and blinked slowly. “Okay. This is… actually good.”

You grinned. “Told you.”

He glanced at you again. This time longer. “You really do smile a lot.”

You shrugged. “I guess I do.”

“Why?”

The question surprised you.

You set down your spoon, thoughtful. “I think… because the world doesn’t always give us reasons to smile. So when I find one, I hold on to it.”

He didn’t reply. Just nodded slowly.

The rest of the meal passed with more quiet conversation.

You told him about the old man at the library who came every Thursday to read love poems, even though he claimed he didn’t believe in love anymore.

He told you about his university years, how he used to want to be a game designer, how things changed.

“I got tired of building dreams that never made it off the ground,” he said.

“So now you build things that do?”

“Sometimes. But the cost is higher.”

You nodded, understanding more than you let on.

When dinner ended, he helped you clean the dishes without being asked.

And when he turned to leave, he looked at you for a moment longer than usual.

“You’re…” he started, then stopped. “You’re different.”

“In a bad way?”

He shook his head, slowly. “No. In a way the world could use more of.”

Your breath caught slightly.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “That means more than you think.”

He gave you a short nod and left with the same quiet he’d entered with.

That night, you didn’t leave a note on his door.

Instead, you wrote something in your diary.

“Sometimes kindness comes back quietly. Like someone washing your dishes without being asked. Or noticing how you smile. Maybe the world really is still full of soft things.”

And outside your window, the city moved on.

But in one apartment, on one quiet floor, something very small had begun to change.

Chapter 3

[dawnoftime22]

breathe, sweetheart.

| T.S

Warnings: one sentence from R, small anxiety thats hidden under calmness, moving leg anxiously

Summary: an anxiety overlayed by calmness isn't always the best way to spend your day, especially when it didn't have a reason to disturb you. Taylor notices, and tries her best to help you find yourself back in the world rather than staying in your mind.

Word Count: 1k

Category: fluff, comfort

A/N: huugs to all of you <3

| Started on 05/29/2024, 2:10 PM |

| Finished on 04/07/2024, 4:28 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

seven days of comfort.

"A way to help bring yourself back, is to make your body remember how it works again."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was the late afternoon, midday, perhaps even the start of an evening bleeding in. The warmth of the sun sent an orange glow down through your bedroom windows, the light peeking through the curtains, and stretching across the floors with grace.

Your head was in Taylor's lap as she was writing some things in her diary. Most things that you already know of. Her eyes were focused, and you can hear the pen strokes next to your ear since the book was propped up against her knee.

After a few minutes, she pauses her writing, going over the words of ink upon the page. Then, her eyes trail down to look at you, her lips raising up. She moves to hold her diary and pen in one hand, the now free hand going to run itself through your hair.

She checks your face, only to see that you were zoned out. Every intricate detail of your features, your mind, far and lost to reality.

The singer would have expected you to feel the gaze she had on you, to look up at her from the way her hands were mindlessly going through your hair-- at times fixing it, or putting one side to the other to lightly mess with you, but you hadn't reacted.

Thats when Taylor starts getting concerned. You weren't on your phone either. It was off elsewhere on the bed, which was a possibility that you had simply gotten bored, but she suspects something else.

The pages lightly fall against each other when she closes her book, the noises a light brush. She sets it down beside her so she could focus on you.

One of the many other things Taylor had noticed is how your foot was moving side to side. It could mean anything for anyone really, but the chances of it being anxiety wasn't a low rate.

She moves her hand up to gently place on your cheek, and she leans down to get a little closer to you, her thumb gently caressing your skin with care.

"Hey..." Taylor whispers softly, her voice soothing. It might not even be audible if you were any further from her. With a blink, you slowly come back to reality at her touch and soft voice.

Seeing your eyes meet her blue ones, she gives you a soft smile. Even within your somewhat unsteady appearance, you manage to return a small smile.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" She asks quietly, the back of her hand turning around to gently brush against your cheek.

You took a moment to think about it. Many things has happened the past few days, but not any you could fixate on. As if you were running endlessly in a swirling tunnel with no stops for scenery, to the point you couldn't even feel...anything about it?

A feeling that held calmness, but with anxiety being present, living carelessly in your heart like a hidden storm. It didn't feel like you were stepping on sharp glass, nor a steam meter awaiting to break. It was the wind in the air that told of high sea levels and a breezy weather.

Taylor watches as you nibble on your lip, and she brings her hand closer to it, brushing her thumb over it to make your teeth halt the small damage it was doing, now knowing you were definitely too deep in your thoughts. Her leg moves over yours too, gently stopping the movement.

After a moment of completely unable to pinpoint it, you take in a deep breath and shrugged lightly, the smallest pout being on your lips. There was nothing to explain your anxious and calm state.

At the sight of the movement, Taylor's eyes soften further. Her gaze trails off and her eyes move through the room in thought.

She then took a deep breath in herself, and looked back at you. You had started playing with her fingers, bending and unbending each one, pushing and pulling with a gentle touch. Taylor watches you for a bit, not minding it at all, but unable to shake off that something could be wrong, even if its something small.

She leaned closer to you, whispering softly. "...Do you wanna try something?" Her free hand went to take your other hand, squeezing it. You blink and look up at her, thinking about it as you gaze at her, but the gentle nod you give her after a few seconds of waiting makes her heart a little lighter.

"You're gonna have to sit up," she says. Her smiles was assuring, as your eyes held curiosity. She moves the both of you, gently helping you up in a proper sitting position so you were a bit more comfortable.

Her eyes look into yours with all the softness it could, making sure you were okay in her lap.

Taylor rests her forehead against yours gently so you'll both close your eyes and have contact. Her hand lets go of yours to trail up to the back of your shoulders, her thumbs rubbing ever so slightly to soothe the tension.

"Take a deep breath for me..." She says in a hushed tone, breathing in slowly to gently guide you. Slowly, you breathe in through your nose, holding it.

"...And let it out slowly," Taylor whispers with her held breath, before exhaling through her mouth. You do the same, the warm breath escaping your mouth.

It was like this for a few minutes. The sound of the gentle air whooshing by the moving ceiling fan, the feel of the light wind against your skin, and deep breaths.

Taylor reassures you with her hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, and you move to her chest, gaining comfort from her embrace. She was warm, and only held safety.

Maybe you didn't know the cause of your anxiety. But maybe you don't need a reason for it at all, you just needed a way to release it.

After it felt like it was gone, you start to pull back. Taylor slowly opens her eyes, blinking away the lingering darkness, but still taking deep breaths as she smiles warmly at you, her head going in a nod as a silent question.

The quiet light peacefulness was back. You gave her a smile that reaches your eyes, and a nod back, leaning into her again with your arms wrapped around her.

"...Thank you," you whisper, watching as she released her last deep breath. She needed it just as you did, too, but her heart felt grateful that she could do it with you.

"Anytime, sweetheart." Taylor whispers back, giving you a kiss on your cheek, her lips lingering before she returns to her original position, looking down at you.

It was light. You were able to focus on something again. The light from the window, the gentle sound of the fan, all without a feeling in your bones.

---------------------

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[taybatwo2]

Monster High IDW Comics Review: Part 5 of ?: Monster High Pride 2024 Issue (“I Put a Spell on You”)

Okay, now we can actually look at the comic. Bring it in boys!!!

Beautiful! Thank you boys.

Part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/taybatwo2/754406016295321600/monster-high-idw-comics-review-part-13-the-fcbd?source=share

Part 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/taybatwo2/754406053729452032/monster-high-idw-comics-review-part-2-of?source=share

Part 3:

https://www.tumblr.com/taybatwo2/754555603918127104/monster-high-idw-comics-review-part-3-of?source=share

Part 4:

https://www.tumblr.com/taybatwo2/754946130507333632/monster-high-idw-comics-review-part-4-of?source=share

Part 6:

https://www.tumblr.com/taybatwo2/772726504008384512/monster-high-idw-comics-review-part-6-of?source=share

First off, the info:

“I Put a Spell on You” is written by Megan Brown (she/her, has her own website and is on “x” @ megan_mb. She has done a lot of other writing on IDW comics). The art is done by Bowen McCurdy (she/her, her BEAUTIFUL artwork can be seen on her Instagram @ bonesbunns).

The fantastic coloring was by Bex Glendining (she/they, they have their own website, and you can see their artwork on Instagram @ Igions). The front cover’s art was done by Céli Godfried (they/she, they have their own website, are on tumblr @ pianta)

None of these people worked on the previous IDW Monster High comics.

Both this and Summer Fangout and the IDW Free Comic Book Day comics had Kielamel Sibal as the letterer (she/her, another artist on Instagram @ labis_lemaleik), Riley Farmer as the editor (she/her, I think, I can’t access her LinkedIn profile), and production and design done by Johanna Nattalie (she/her and has worked on a lot of IDW Sonic titles). All three had worked previously on the FCBD issue.

It is 10 pages long Vs the twice as long “Summer Fangout.” Which is a shame.

Synopsis (spoilers below).

“I Put a Spell on You” has Spelldon try to become friends with Draculaura on his road to bettering himself. He is so upset by her not wanting to fang out with him that he asks Spelldon to remove all of his love emotions through a potion. They track down the three ingredients, Valentine catches feels for Spelldon (who already had them for Valentine) and last minute decides he doesn’t need the potion. Spelldon drinks it and tells him it was just a “murktail” (“mocktail”), and they begin dating (YESSS).

My personal thoughts/feelings/breakdown and more photos under the cut:

Like the previous comic, I will be whiting out the speech bubbles to try and circumvent the copyright on these pages I’m uploading.

On with the comic!

page 1:

It starts off with Valentine talking with Whisp (whom he’d become friends with in his SDCC doll diary) about how he wants to turn his life around. The first step is asking Draculaura if she’d be friends with him and he’s SO NERVOUS (Look how is hand is shaking! Fangtastic detail). So nervous that he walks head first into a locker (can relate - that hurts). Whisp sees this as a perfect opportunity to duck out (I love her so much).

Pros:

(Most of these are just going to be me gushing over the artwork. I absolutely adore it and REALLY wish the other IDW comics had her as their artist and kept the same colorist).

I like how his voice’s accent shows through the writing and “turning over a new grave” is a great pun.  The reactions are pretty good too (the RIP sound effect, mwah). 

And the angle on his face while in the floor is beautiful! He even has a little nose scrunch.

Call backs:

They mention him getting knocked into the pit of “eternal body odor” again (I believe he also dealt with those ramifications in his diary). 

I already mentioned it, but I like how he is friends with Whisp in this (like in his SDCC release/diary).

Other:

They did lightly alter Valentine’s outfit (I assume so it was easier to draw -it had a lot of detail on it in his 3D model and SDCC doll), his sleeves are a bit shorter, he is missing cravat, they gave him black nails and more maroon colored hair instead with some reddish streaks instead of pure black with red streaks. :)

page 2:

After being knocked on the floor, Valentine rights himself and quickly asks Draculaura (first in his normal accent and then in his southern swagger) if she’d like to be friends/see a show together “to rekindle our- er-our friendship.” She says she can’t (it sounds like she’s not necessarily against it), she has a full schedule. I saw someone mention that they took at as her trying to blow him off by mentioning all these things, but I read it as she was actually that busy *shrugs.* And Valentine takes this really hard, because he’s replaying that conversation back in his head in class. 

Pros:

Again, I love all the facial expressions!  Also, look at those hands! Look at the use of shadow and they even painted both of their nails. FANTASTIC!

Also, good use of paneling to show that was a flashback.

Call Backs:

The inside of the school looks like the webisodes’ school interior (so maybe these are not following the IDW comics? They used the CGI model of the school).

But, Draculaura being overwhelmed with duties/work does sound like it’s keeping in line with this G1 “Once Bitten” canon.

Nitpick…kinda:

Valentine is REALLY taking it hard that Draculaura is not wanting to hang out with him right that second. Is he just overthinking it? Does he think she’s blowing him off? He probably feels like he keeps failing and can’t make up for his past misdeeds.

Not that the comic has any room for this, but what if the first scene stayed the same, she tentatively says, “yeah, I think we could try being friends.” Then it’s a montage of him trying to fang out/help her and he has just the worst luck (he interrupts her in the middle of fear practice and it topples their human pyramid, he knocks over a vase of flowers he brought her all over her creative writing assignment, maybe he’s forgot how she reacts to blood and gets her some chocolate covered blooded jelly truffles)??? After a week of mess ups, and Draculaura not answering his texts anymore (because she feels overwhelmed-but he doesn’t know), then he can feel like he majorly blew it (but maybe that is too much of a retread on what happened in “Only Have Eye for You”).

Maybe he is overthinking it because his emotional vampire side is hangry (his SDCC diary mentions that he gets energy off of people’s love -more so if it is freely given - so maybe he’s running on low. I know I get a bit dramatic and paranoid when I’m low on fuel).

Valentine is drawn a bit too short/Draculaura is too tall(Draculaura’s head shouldn’t reach above his shoulders and her lipstick and fangs are missing). 

page 3:

He is snapped out of it by Spelldon. After Spelldon takes one of the roses, Valentine laments to Spelldon about his lack of emotional intelligence and how his love for others have only brought him “pain and suffering.” AND he tells Spelldon he no longer “like likes” girls. Which is really sweet, but again, I would love it if in the PRIDE ISSUE we could get a full on: “I am GAY Spelldon.” Instead of a “You know what I mean!!”

Pros: Valentines’ face in the sixth panel is well drawn.

Valentine being over dramatic is a nice touch. Kid is spiraling. Maybe he’s hangry…?  The background continues to be great. I like the background posters of the fanged mouth.

We get the long awaited appearance of SPELLDON. I really like his design (how he has black features, his pointed ears, his outfit, his sparkly shirt). I would love to break down his appearance in another review, and compare it to how fanon (and Garrett Sander) had designed him (and how it’s evolved over the years).

Call Back:

Spelldon apparently likes black roses. :) Which is great because those seem to be Valentine’s specialty (besides in the movie, those were pink).

They name drop “lap dragons,” which are one of the pets that Valentine took care of in his SDCC diary for Mrs. Goblin (which ties back to him wanting to take an interest in Biteology to be a vet).

page 4:

Spelldon (begrudgingly) is talked into making a potion to make Valentine stop feeling all the feels. 

Pros:

Spelldon is so much taller than Valentine (“he sure is big,” isn’t he Valentine?).

The passing of time is well done in the paneling (and the zoom-in to the book is also great).

More great facial expressions and HANDS!!

There is some great foreshadowing with the book. See how Spelldon’s right hand is covering most of the page (like he doesn’t want Valentine to see what it says), and Valentine is not paying attention to the title of the tome? Well, the tome says: “Party Potions,” which doesn’t sound like a title heavy enough to contain an emotion erasing potion.

It also implies that this comic takes the span of about a week.

Nitpicks: Valentine calls Spelldon a magician? Hahaha, sounds like he does stage magic. Just call him a witch Valentine. :)

page 5:

Valentine and Spelldon go to the store to get a “Hydra Heart Scale.” Apparently they are both Elissabat stans and go to see her movie off screen-err page (I would have LOVED to have seen this).

Pros:

I love the look of the background of the store. It’s nicely faded out, the casual inclusion of rib cages (symbolizing where the heart lays and the other new character that had appeared in “Why do Ghouls fall in Love:” Cupid), bat wings, and even some hockey masks like a certain mama’s boy, camp serial killer might be known for wearing. 

This conversation on how much they should get is done SO MUCH better here than in Clawdeen’s/Toralei’s previous short story (in my opinion).

Spelldon looks really cute in the third and forth panel, and Valentine looks really good in the fifth and last panel. I like the hatching they add to Spelldon’s hair shade. I like that they have a little lore drop in here as well about what Spelldon is good at (top of the class in Potion-Crafting) and what Valentine is (really) good at (Biteology).

Call Backs:

The goblin lady he helped during the summer is from SDCC diary and the “unfortunate birthday party incident (is from “Why Do Ghouls Fall in Love?”). Honey, you almost made Draculaura an empty, unfeeling husk FOREVER, I think that would be a bit more than unfortunate.

Nitpicks: Apparently Elissabat the Vampire Queen and movie star is taking up sponsorships for Fake Blood Murktails (I’m not really feeing that pun….?).

And while Elissabat is a fun cameo, it feels a bit off here, but I know they already wanted to hint at Murktails being a thing.

But, why murktails? Are mock-tails popular with today’s youth?? Why not smoothies…boo-thies? I know flavored/carbonated waters and energy drinks are popular…

Maybe have Elissabat in a new costume in a promotional outfit for the “Cracking Dusk” movie mentioned here

(I would have loved to see a new design on her, like they did for her Vampire Heart movie poster in “Frights, Camera, Action,” and the Draculaura Maul Monsteristas dress).

Also, I wish that the last speech bubble in the second panel was moved over and down a bit more, so you could see Valentine’s hand counting down “two” (I saw their line art on the artist’s page -serious check out their Instagram and I think it’s a shame to cover up such lovely hand artwork, also, you can see how the background line art doesn’t touch the character’s line art, helping them not get lost in the panel).

page 6:

The next thing they have to get is “Himalayan Ice Malt from the Lair or a Yeti.” Valentine and Spelldon….well I actually don’t know what happens. I originally flipped back and forth several times to see if I skipped a page because it just didn’t seem to flow as well, and what happens to cause a distraction for the yeti to leave his office -and his malt- is a bit unclear (to me).

Spelldon mentions that having skates would ruin the plan, Valentine trips stepping forward, but then looks like he’s falling back and the next (BEAUTIFUL PANEL) he’s kneeled down,

gripping his shoulder in pain, leaning over Spelldon, while Spelldon is laying under him (I LOVE his pose), and an explosion is going off. Did Spelldon sneak over to the fishing hole and summon the sea monsters/put an explosive potion in the hole?? Unknown. Then the panel jumps back up and see a bunch of monster fish trying to come out of the fishing hole. 

Am I missing something??? Anyways, the Dreddy the Yeti is distracted and both boys run into his unprotected office and steal the malt.

Pros:

Dreddy running out to fix the problem has some funny dialogue and I love Spelldon’s and Valentine’s conspiratorial look they give one another. 

Again, lovely shading (on the neck, cheeks, and hands especially), even the way the clothes lay on them is great (look at those clothing folds). 

I like the Yeti’s design (the horns, furry arms and legs, the tail is cute, but I’m not sure if it fits….maybe he has some Norwegian Troll blood in his veins). His cardboard cut out is really fun.

Nitpicks: The colorist forgot to color in Spelldon’s jacket’s studs.

page 7:

“And a grave chalice to drink it from,” is the last ingredient. Before they do, Spelldon slips into his Southern twanged accent and Spelldon questions him on why he does that, he doesn’t do it around him. Valentine shrugs and says he doesn’t know but maybe it’s because he feels more comfortable around Spelldon. Spelldon and Valentine go to a mausoleum to get the chalice and instead of Scarah coming in clutch to scare Valentine into Spelldon’s arms, Spelldon somehow trips and bonks his head. 

Pros:

I love the Chibi art for them! It’s so cute!!

Scarah shows up!! I wonder if she could hear Spelldon’s feelings for Valentine and wanted to help?

I love the opening panel. It’s very lovely, and I love the coffin lights and the soft glow they emit (it’s handled here much better than the coffin lights I the previous short).

The part where Spelldon questions Valentine’s accent is a nice addition and fun to see. I like the idea that Valentine puts on the southern gentlemanly air because he thinks it makes him cooler, is funny and the fact that he feels so at ease with Spelldon, he doesn’t bother with it, is also sweet.

I had headcanoned that when going to school in Transylvania, Valentine was getting crap for being a new world American vampire -so uncool and uncivilized for the Transylvanian pure breed Vampires. He was (literally) starving for love/friendship, so he adopted the “perfect” romantic, southern gentleman person. Roughly akin to southern gentleman trope maker: Rhett Butler from “Gone with The Wind,” (it doesn’t really fit with that time period of Valentine living Transylvania being Edwardian/Victorian -the movie came out in 1939- but was one of the highest grossing movies ever and really catapulted the southern gentlemen into public conscious and Monster High timelines are a mess anyways). And it worked great in giving him all the emotions he could feast on.

Nitpicks:

This one I like better than the previous page, but I still feel like it’s a bit out of order. I feel like the panels where Spelldon is asking Valentine about his “bad southern accent” should have been right under the first panel. Then it has Valentine asking Spelldon “what’s the plan?”.

page 8:

It cuts to them finally mixing all the ingredients together in the library, Valentine second guesses and then decides against drinking the potion and Spelldon chucks it back. 

Pros:

Once again, I love the opening panel (Valentine’s face is great on the opening, fourth and seventh panel).

You get some close ups of that rose he took from Valentine’s bouquet as a bracelet and it hasn’t died yet. :D

And Spelldon still has his poor head wrapped. 

Call Back:

I like that Valentine says he has been bettering himself after the “incident” (in which he nearly made Draculaura an emotionless husk).

Nitpick:

Valentine mentions he already considers Draculaura a friend here???? So he IS just upset that she won’t hang out with him/is really busy? >:P

page 9:

Next page! Spelldon reveals that it’s just a Murktail and that he cares for and “likes hanging out with” Valentine. Valentine admits he likes fanging out with Spelldon too and then THIS CUTE PANEL where they flirt. Aaaaand no kiss….again!!! >:/ 

Pros:

Again, I love this artwork (Spelldon looks down-right gorgeous in that last panel) and the two boys admitting that they like each other.

Their facial expressions and how Valentine grabs Spelldon’s shirt is just SO GOOD.

Nitpicks:

Also in that last panel, it looks like the three “…” were accidentally copied into Spelldon’s bandaged head. Haha.

I just wish they were more blatant and we got a dang kiss! 

page 10:

The last page again fast forwards again to sometime later and Valentine and Spelldon are holding hands down the hallways of Monster High. Draculaura runs up and apologizes to Spelldon on how much she thinks he has the wrong impression, she does want to be friends, she just has a lot going on (what’s going on with you in this TIMELINE ghoulie…??!?).

I do like that Valentine catches himself slipping back into his southern drawl (I like that it’s pretty obvious when he falls back into it- but does anyone else have a hard time trying to remember what his voice sounds like without it or is that just me). 

It ends on a great note (calling back to how Valentine does have friends now - with Whisp calling him to ask about his new boo-friend and Spelldon asking how he’s feeling now). 

Pros:

THE ART! All the art. It’s all so good!! The hands in the first panel, the shading on all of them! The little heart drawn on the bottom of Valentines’s shoe. <3 Valentine’s realization he’s slipping into past habits in the third panel. So good!

Nitpicks:

Valentine DOES think they’re already friends, so maybe Draculaura should have ran up and said she thought about it and he does seem to be turning over a new leaf and she does want to fang out with him and maybe try being friends. If he would like, she’s free on -insert day here- maybe even for a double date. Valentine blushes and says he would like that. (CAN YOU IMAGINE A DOUBLE DATE WITH THESE GUYS?!?)

Spelldon’s jacket studs are missing in the fifth panel.

Draculaura is still draw a bit too tall here.

Overall:

I’ve already said it a million times, but I think the artwork is SO MUCH better in this comic than the others. The emotions seem to flow better, the characters are not as stiff, the line work varies, the color story is complimentary, the space doesn’t feel empty, the paneling flows together better. Just on a whole other level than what the previous comics are doing.

The colorist did an AMAZING job on the whole short story, she just elevated the already great line work. It’s FANGTASTIC! I’ll be curious to see where the characters go from here and if they will get dolls (please oh please oh please oh please) or at least another doll that is SDCC exclusives only…

I LOVED seeing Spelldon. Spelldon played more of a supporting role here to Valentine, but I think it worked well as an introduction. His personality seemed a bit quiet and mature, very observant and kind, and he has some wit and sarcasm to him. It’s a nice contrast to the more emotionally turbulent Valentine.  I still wish it was longer, and Valentine getting upset over the fact that Draculaura is friends with him but is too busy to fang out with him (but she implied she didn’t know they were already friends: “of course I want to be friends with you!”) is a bit “eh.” And I would have liked to see at LEAST one kiss.

I could see this short story fitting right into the main G1 canon (even with Draculaura still being suspiciously busy and not her bubbly self, which seems to be part of the new-“Once Bitten”/IDW comic-G1-verse canon).

This took a lot longer than I thought to make, but I managed to do it!

I’m still thinking about maybe doing a Spelldon fanon to canon evolution post, but it might take awhile to compile stuff. I find how the whole fandom basically willed this character into existence and all the different interpretations fascinating. Perhaps I will read the new issue of the IDW comic when it drops in August and make a post (to give the comic an actual fair chance). But I can’t see myself doing it to every issue due to me not collecting floppies (I’d rather wait for them to be all collected first, my cat has already stepped on and badly wrinkled my Pride Comic).

Maybe I’ll begrudgingly picking up the new “Once Bitten” book (I’d really rather get that on a super sale then give them full price for THAT) and report on that. TT^TT

What were your thoughts and feelings? Did I miss something? Have horrible takes? Did I mention the beautiful artwork too much?? Let me know. :) 

[tootoomanycats]

I'm so happy to be working on this short story (10 chapters)

Just Desserts is an idea I had a while back (post here), and honestly, it grew into something really beautiful. As much as I avoid it, I genuinely do enjoy writing angsty scenes. So please enjoy this teaser that I wrote while listening to this on repeat. (hits play again) K thanks I love you buh bye!

Levi forced himself up the steps to your apartment, pushing through excruciating pain in his knee as his heart pounded so violently it rattled deep in his ear drums. You wouldn't have left without saying anything. You wouldn't do that to him… unless…

Dread set in, and vision began to tunnel, darkness dancing on the edges as he started skipping steps. The cane fell out of his hands, clattering down before skirting across the ground below; it didn't matter. He had to get to your apartment; you had to be there still, and he had to apologize. Had to tell you the truth.

“FUCK!” He cried out when his left leg refused to lift, unable to clear the top step, body crumbling like a marionette on the small landing that led to the apartment door. He crawled, dragging as he gritted through the sharp pain that ricocheted each vertebra before knocking on the door from where he lay—listening for a moment, hoping to hear the shuffle of footsteps that never came.

He called your name.

No response.

“No.” He pulled himself to stand on shaking limbs, hands gripping the door for balance as he called out your name, knocking louder this time.

Silence.

“No, no, no, no.” The words came out in a hushed panic as he turned the doorknob; it was unlocked.

Just as he went to limp into the doorway, a white envelope caught his eye. Laying on the ground, staring back up at him, his name written in the delicate cursive he knew to be your handwriting. Dryness wrapped around his throat like barbed wire. Slowly sliding down against the door, he grasped the envelope and broke its wax seal. Hands shaking as the contents within were pulled out and unfolded. There were so many, many pages. Each with a different date.

“Are these…diary pages?”

October 12th.

I have never been so embarrassed. I mistook him for a child when he had been so kind to help me with my keys. To add insult to injury, he is the tea shop owner across the way. I don’t know how I’ll ever live this down.

That was the first day you met. He flipped through the more recent pages until he found a freshly torn page with no date, only his name. The ink was still fresh and smugged in certain places—small wet spots littered across, making a few letters hard to understand.

Levi,

You're right.

I’m a coward.

I’m sorry.

“Idiot,” He murmured as he held the torn pages in his hands, looking up to see that the apartment had been cleaned and what little you did have was gone. The tea plant he gifted you that once sat in the window was missing; only an imprint of where the terracotta bottom sat proved that it was once there. The cat toys that usually litter the floor were gone, as was Louie. With how little you had, it was difficult to tell if leaving was preplanned or done in haste.

Turning back to the pages in hand, he read through each entry. Dates skipped, and with the pages torn, it wasn't hard to put together that you had ripped out every entry that had to do with him.

November 11th.

He wanted to kiss me.

Fear grabbed my stomach, and like a coward, I fiend to be oblivious and went home. I wish I had been brave; why can’t I be brave? When I told Martha, I expected her to joke about it, but she just looked sad and hugged me. She told me it was okay. I didn't even know I had started crying until I was struggling to breathe.

He could hear his teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw. Every page spelled out in black and white how much you cared and how scared you were. And he had goaded you for it, shouted at you angrily when you were finally brave enough to try and tell him, as awkward as it was. "What have I done?"

Let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged as updates and chapters are posted! Tag List:

@l1zk4 @angelofthorr

[scandaluxminx]

New study method!!! I'll call it the SX² method

Ok, so, literally no one asked but I wanted to share my study method.

Table of contents

1. The method+steps

2. Additionals

3. What I've accomplished with the method

1. The method+ steps

Read the material and annotate, either on the book itself or a separate paper, (highlight words you don't know, underline important things, write down questions you have, mark sections you think are more likely to be on tests and those who you think are less likely, read additional text too.

Reread out loud. Mark sections where there are answers to some of the questions you previously had.

Make notes. Do not write information in bulk, do it like a presentation, write key words and questions

Go over your notes and try to recite and explain what you read and what you understood and record it.

Relisten to the audio and mark off unclear explanations and segments you missed

Reread the material

Explain the material like you're doing an exam presentation or a lecture to someone who doesn't know anything about the subject and record it

By the end of this you should have a paper with keywords and questions that will help you with the “presentation/lecture” part and a recording of said part. You will use it to review whenever you need to and you'll listen to the audio as well.

2. Additionals

Over study. Having more general knowledge on a topic can make it easier to integrate when you don't remember a specific information, and it can also help you to make logical connections which can lead to accurate answers even if you didn't remember it

If your material is a lot or too redundant you're gonna have to review it and rewrite it (or use a speech to text app if you don't feel like writing by hand or typing)

Spaced repetition, for a lot of topics I can do this method once and get really good marks on a test, however some topics are just longer/boring/harder and require more time to assimilate, also if you're studying for multiple subjects it's important to repeat things in order to not forget them to make space for new knowledge

Sleep, sleep deprivation can make things so much harder than they need to be

Add quality to your tests/exams/presentations curate your speech and how you explain things, grammar and vocabulary are very important

Quality over quantity. No use studying 4 hours if you didn't learn shit (I don't think studying should ever take that long anyway) even if you do it for 30 minutes you should still feel like you've learned something.

Keep notes (mainly for subjects like maths, economics, or any subject that have fundamentals that are repeated a lot even as you go further in the program)

3. Accomplishments

+ I never study for more than 2 hours a day, most days I do 30 minutes to an hour, with an average of 48 minutes

+ I easily get high marks, in my school it's practically impossible to get all 10s (10 is the highest grade) because some teachers don't even give it and some only do when you get every single thing right (I mean everything, even grammar and such). But as I started this method my grades haven't gone below 8 with most of them being 9s which is really great because it increases my chances of having a 10 in my final score report.

+ I actually remember what I study way after tests are done, which is really useful in certain subjects like law or political economics

+ school is not a worry anymore. I am genuinely very chill about it , I've started caring less so maybe that helped but yeah, I'm chill

+ I have a lot more time to dedicate myself to other things 🩷

Let me know how this works for you!!!!!!!

photo version on Pinterest @ The minx diary

Be honest do y'all like it?

[theheirofthesharingan]

I started reading your fics and fell in love with your writing. I was thinking if you could talk about the books/authors who inspired? Who's been your favourite author and what books inspired you the most?

Thank you. :) There are many authors that I love, but for inspiration, I guess, some take the upper hand.

To name a few:

JRR Tolkien. His were the first books in English I ever read. And thankfully I read those before watching the movies, because I dislike the films. Tolkien's definition of love, heroism, goodness has stayed with me for 10 years. I often subconsciously incorporate some things from his works in whatever I write.

Khaled Hosseini. This one is no surprise. His depiction of the war-torn Afghanistan and the lives at stake there, along with hope and struggle - it moved me in both his books I've read. The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns are the books I read once and might never read again, because I'm still not over anything I read in those books.

Emily Brontë. Her words, her hauntingly beautiful world, and her characters in Wuthering Heights. Very few times have I come across authors who can write the most selfish and cruel characters and can still make you feel bad for them. And of course, her poetry is just as beautiful as her novel.

Jane Austen. I have only read Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Northeranger Abbey from her, but the way she writes humour, her characters and their mundane lives, with that gorgeous prose. She'll forever be iconic for that.

Daphne du Maurier. Her Rebecca and Jamaica Inn are both stunning books. The way she creates an eerie atmosphere, brings dead to life, weaves people with the phantom threads, not knowing who is real and who isn't, what is truth and what isn't. It's perfection.

Haruki Murakami. His books feel like you've stepped into a world which is made of glass and rain and dreams. Those leave you in a psychedelic trance. His writing of women often puts me off, but he also tells the stories about people, their melancholy so beautifully, it's hard to not love them. And it's also the main theme that goes on in anything I write, so I have soft corner for his work, despite my disagreement with his portrayal of women.

Carlos Ruiz Zafón. He was a Spanish author, who passed away in 2020. His books have inspired me a lot. His world will make you want to wander in the streets of Barcelona. It's been hard for me to find the books with the similar vibes. He's also one of the writers I've read every single book of.

Gabriel García Márquez. Magical realism with the touch of melancholy is my favorite thing to read (and write). And his books, One Hundred Years of Solitude in particular, have caught my attention. It's powerful and feels like being on a liminal plane. You don't know what you're feeling, but there's so much going on. And much like Haruki Murakami, people find some of the things he writes questionable too.

John Steinbeck. I've read his East of Eden (so far), but that one book did change something to me. Again, his story's melancholy caught hold of me and has remained so for years. The way he writes his characters and resolves the conflict (through the tragic route), is my kind of angst. And writing. His words sparkle. They make you feel like you're watching the dancing sunrays on a transparent lake.

Fyodor Dostoevsky. Sometimes reading him feels like reading your own diary. Or his words feel like they're there to pull at your heartstrings. While reading TBK, I did not understand most of his theological commentary, but there's still something that lingers. How raw he is with his words.

William Wordsworth. His poems, the nature, and the feeling of loss and melancholy in them. It's perhaps these things I want in my stories to have. And he provides the perfect inspiration. Every time I feel stuck, I go back to reading his words.

Bruno Schulz. He only ever wrote one book. A collection of short stories. And I will always be sad that we never got to read more of his words. He's one of those authors whose words speak to you. He is also a surrealist author whose stories make you feel dizzy as if you've just been looking at the stars for too long when you finish the stories. Magical.

Anne Michael. She's a Canadian author and poet. And I cannot describe how her words have touched my soul. Her words and sentences feel like they're pure, refined art, done to perfection. Each sentence feels like a poem, even if she's writing in prose. I can never get enough of her writing. On a side note, I sent her my admiration to her on Twitter this year in August and she replied. Anyway, both her prose and poetry are spectacular.

There might be some other authors, but I'm forgetting their names right now, I guess. I hope this was enough. :)

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

5 10 25 for inquisitor asks! your choice who for 🤗

thank you! from this ask game :)

5. How old is your Inquisitor at the start of the game?

Jacinth Lavellan: pretty young, I think around 24 or so Ataashi Adaar: older than that, though not by much--maybe 27-29--but has been living more "independently" relatively longer as a mercenary too, so comes across as older

10. What does your Inquisitor do with their free time? Do they have any hobbies?

Jacinth: she used to play drums (frame drum, maybe like bodhran) with other musicians in her clan, but it's not much of a solo instrument so she mostly stops when joining the Inquisition. she spends most of her free time obsessively reading all the inquisition's books to get a better grasp of all the new political/history situations she hasn't ever had to be aware of before. revels in all the time spend trekking around outdoors, in this game hiking/backpacking is more lifestyle than hobby lol Ataashi: has a legendary pokerface, she plays cards with various inquisition members until they give up on her, though she's honestly not that into the gaming/gambling aspect anyway. i like the idea of her secretly writing poetry also, because it's a good contrast to how stoic/aggressive she appears most of the time.

25. What's one thing you wish your Inquisitor could have done that wasn't an option? (e.g. become Divine, alternate romance, different quest outcome, different region map, etc.)

I WANT TO DO IN HUSHED WHISPERS BUT STILL GET THE POST-CHAMPIONS-OF-THE-JUST CONTENT FOR CALPERNIA/THE TEMPLE OF DUMAT AFTERWARDS. AAAHHHGGG. this is the hardest choice of DAI for me to be honest because i LOVE the IHW quest itself--getting to go on a fun magical romp with Dorian, seeing the red lyrium future, having the memory/very visceral potential consequences of failure haunt the player character all through the rest of the game. it's SO juicy i don't even care that time magic is silly and insane. especially for a solas-romancing inquisitor, the parallel of being someone who DID get to go back and change the past and avert the miserable future is just SO good. however. CALPERNIA. i love her i need her she's everything to me. like, having the venatori leader be a freed mage? that CORYPHEUS freed and recruited because he values power regardless of its source?? getting to talk her down instead of just killing her once you can show her corypheus was going to just use her too, and she walks away from him because she cares about Tevinter but only if she can build it back up with equality????? and then additionally in the temple of dumat you get to hear Corypheus' diary entry memory crystal lines where he talks about the shock and horror at realizing the Maker is truly gone--not just not interfering but not even watching the world, and his conviction that the magisters need to step into that role to guide humanity since who can stand the desolation of no one above to listen? DAI still has huge flaws in pacing/showing corypheus as a villain but doing this route makes him WAY more compelling. AND LIKE 90% OF PLAYERS I KNOW HAVE NEVER DONE THIS ROUTE EVEN ONCE because it requires doing the templar route not the mage one. please try it everyone i beg you as i do monthly. you can just disband/conscript the templars into the inquisition at the end rather than support them its fine. you can still #magerights your way out of it.

anyway uh. For Jacinth, i'm at the point where i think i wanna headcanon that the attempt to meet up with the mages/help Dorian stop things is a time loop they simply cannot win. like, getting thrown back a day or two sooner but no matter what she tries they keep ending up back in it. so experiencing Fucked Up Future again and again and never winning/only barely making it out in diff ways each time until The Only Winning Move Is Not To Play and letting... whatever happens if you DONT do that happen, and going to the Templars first (maybe to try to get them to come help stop it but by the time they get over there, now it's too late for that and she's gotta live with it). something like that anyway, details still not fully hashed out!!! then i get best of both worlds mentally even if the game won't let me have this.

[vaguely-concerned]

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

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

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

Part 2, Part 3

- My dear Doctor:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . . 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Dark eyes and long lashes’ huh lol

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

. . .

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

. . .

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

. . .

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

. . .

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

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

. . .

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

. . .

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

. . .

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

End Pythas/Eight teen crush corner

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

Suffering and agony

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*whisper* pls don't...

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

Have you come to take us home?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . . 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baby pansexual disaster at his finest

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

. . . 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When Cardassia is liberated,” I interrupted.

“Would you return?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honing his future customer service worker smile 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because … we do,” I replied stupidly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . . 

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

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

Sex stuff end. For now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Julian, severely unimpressed: uh-huh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As long as I’m smiling,” I mumbled.

. . . 

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

This last statement stopped me.

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

“Of course.”

“What about our government?”

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

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

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

. . . 

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

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

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

“Why not?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you’re not,” he said quietly.

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

“Perhaps,” I replied softly.

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

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

. . . 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . . 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No trick. I needed a friend.”

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

“It’s complicated, Elim.”

I was afraid to ask why.

“What did you use me for?” she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crying gently into my cereal

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

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

Absolutely sobbing my eyes out into my cereal 

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

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

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

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

:(

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

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

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

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

“You can’t be serious,” she managed.

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

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

[shallyne]

The Diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 10

Chapter ten! Last chapter before the epilogue. Enjoy!! Full fic on AO3

Words: 1.1k

June 29th

Rhys came with me to the Rainbow today. It has been nerve-wracking if I put it lightly. It took me about an hour before I even could step a foot into the artist's quarter but Rhys was there, reassuring me and giving me the time I needed. I actually wanted to do this after work but Rhys took the day off for us both and we walked to the Rainbow. In my quest to ignore it the past years I never realized how close the quarter was to the lounge.

After I managed to actually walk into the Rainbow (I gripped Rhys's hand the whole time like my life depended on it) I got that sudden feeling of nostalgia. Seeing people carrying canvases and paints, even the street musicians who were in their element. It was such a weird mix of emotions, on one side I wanted to bolt in the other I felt at home there, like I belonged. I teared up just standing there, probably looking like an idiot, but Rhys wiped my tears away with the hand I wasn't squeezing.

We even ate lunch there, right beside a gallery. I haven't gone into the gallery but Rhys and I agreed that this would be the next step, for the next time.

I'm actually excited! It's so strange, tho. Having all these different emotions.

July 12th

Tonight I had the first nightmare that I was alone to deal with. Rhys had to work longer and Elain and Nesta were on a double date with Azriel and Cassian. They invited me, too, but I was so exhausted after therapy that I just fell into bed right after dinner. I assume that's also why I had nightmares again, a lot has come up. I wish someone had been there but I managed, somehow. I didn't throw up and I, fortunately, didn't have a panic attack either. That's good, it's something to celebrate. I really don't know if I should tell Rhys, though, because I know he's going to feel bad for not being there and I don't want him to feel bad. I have to do this alone, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I don't know, I'll think about it. He's not in his office later when I work, so there is enough time to debate this until I meet him in the afternoon.

Also, I've bought a new dress. It's not like the others I took from home, this one is much more revealing. Mom would hate it, so I know it's great. Rhys will love it.

July 13th

I couldn't even say hello before he asked me if I had nightmares again? Is it that obvious??

But, okay, but that's not what I'm going to write about today. Something happened. Something GREAT!!! Rhys and I had sex last night. For the first time. And the second. And the third. Okay, a lot of times and it was amazing. It was the best sex I ever had. Not that I'm surprised but also I'm a little surprised because I didn't expect that. It was like something you'd read in Nesta's smutty books. I can't stop thinking about it. About Rhys and the last night and well, that's bad because we will have a barbecue tonight with the whole family (Nesta, Elain, Mor, Cassian, Azriel, Rhys's mother and sister, Rhys and me) and apparently you can read all my emotions on my face. Fuck, I have to work on that. I will! I'll try while getting ready. I'm still at Rhys's place but he already had a dress ready for me so I won't have to stress about that. (not in a controlling way like, his mother made that dress. She's a seamstress and I feel really honored to wear her dress but nobody would blink an eye either if I would turn up in pajamas)

I feel like I'm walking on clouds! It's surreal. If someone told my 16 year old self that I am where I am now she would laugh. She wouldn't believe it at all. I barely can.

December 15th

A decision was made!

I'm quitting my job at Rhys's lounge and going to art school. I started painting again around august and I just can't stop. There is so much that I have to tell, to get out. Rhys and I spent a whole night talking about the future weeks ago and the decision was a hard one to make but I made it. I'm going to art school. I'm living my dream, the thing I've worked towards my whole life until we had to leave my hometown. It's happening and I made the decision all alone. Without Rhys (although I've talked his ear off about the pros and cons), without Nesta or Elain, without my therapist. It was my decision! Isn't this exciting? I'm standing on my own two feet again. Baby steps evolved into quite big steps. I can't say how light I feel these days. I can paint it but words can't even begin to describe my feelings. I still have rough patches, especially now that it nears one year since my abduction but I'll get through this. I'm not alone. I'm not there anymore, I am safe now. And I am going to art school! Oh my god!

No words left, just happy.

January 1st

If you like a thing you should put a ring on it!

Okay, well, that's not the exact lyrics. I had to modify it a tiny little bit to fit my situation. Our situation. Rhys and my situation. Well, happy new year! I'm engaged! We are engaged! There will be a wedding. Between me and Rhys. Rhys and I. Engaged. Soon to be married. I'd say I believe I'm dreaming but I am not, I am looking at the ring as we speak. It's a family heirloom, Rhys told me. It's been through generations. The ring is also SO beautiful. It's a sapphire and in is etched with a six pointed star. The band of the ring is twisted of silver and gold. Never in my life have I seen something that beautiful. Sometimes, when the light falls in it in the right way, it looks like there is a star inside the stone.

Which actually brings me to the proposal. It wasn't something big, it was just me and Rhys and we went stargazing. I tried to find a constellation he had pointed at and when I turned around he was on his knee (his bad one, I basically had to pull him up), asking me to become his wife. Of course I cried. Nothing could beat this proposal.

It's Rhys and me. For the rest of our lives.

I'm thanking the stars everyday

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[paradox-oflife]

Top 10 albums 2024

Tagged by my mate @lememecollector, last time I did this was.. I was still in high school 💀I had a lot of stuff from the Killers, Mitski, twenty one pilots lmao so let's see how much I've changed

In Rainbows - Radiohead

To me, this is the golden record and the most perfect album. It gets better and better every single time I listen to it. If you want to listen to it on a more normal level, it's so fun to groove and jam to. If you want to dig deep, you'll realize every single track is actually pretty complex from a musical perspective. 15 Steps being in 5/4 signature, Bodysnatchers being in something of a syncopation, Weird Fishes in a very layered polyrhythmic soundscape, Faust Arp changing time signatures every few measures etc. The closing track, Videotape still confuses me with it's rhythmic patterns. The lyrics seem to contrast the vibes of the music, e.g. 15 Step opening up with "How come I end up where I started?" and that feeling of never being able to escape your old faults. Even the track order is so perfect, it's ordered in a way where it never feels like it drags or rushes, and everything just flows so seamlessly into each other. Upbeat, depressing, innovative, experimental all at once.

What puts this at first place is really the musicality of it. It's very much what I think of as an objective perfection. I think some of the other albums I put on this list isn't as polished, but it's more about the emotional and rawness of the music. Like, I would blast In Rainbows if I'm on aux, but I wouldn't blast like. Shoegaze. I've never been much of a fan of Radiohead for their lyrics bc ngl I don't even know what Thom is singing half the time, but it's always been about the actual musicality for me.

Favorite is Jigsaw Falling into Place! The bass player in me is obsessed.

2. bury me at makeout creek - Mitski

My first love <3 musically speaking. I was in like 7th grade when I heard "Francis Forever" play on Adventure Time then immediately going to search it up. Then I heard First Love/Late Spring, then Townie, and something in me flickered. It was the first time I ever heard an Asian American in the indie rock scene. Back then, Mitski was such a small artist and relatively unknown. I remember journaling about her music in 7th grade lmao. The explosiveness of Texas Reznikoff, the teenage angst in Townie, crushing First Love/Late Spring, the yearning self-affirmation on Francis Forever..etc. It's actually quite musically simplistic but it's so catchy and manages to have some of the most personal and confessional lyrics at the same time. And it's not like Mitski doesn't know how to be "musically complex", she was literally a studio composition major and you can really feel that bleed through in Retired from Sad, New Career in Business.

Bmamc feels like something you would sing to yourself on a guitar in your bedroom, or perform in your garage, or something you would write in your diary. It's meant for yourself, not for a large crowd of a sold out stadium. It's raw, cathartic, intimate, and says everything it needs to say about love, insecurity, anger, grief, youth in a short 30 minutes. It meant everything to me and it still means everything to me. I hold it very close to my heart.

It's so hard to choose favorites for this. I have a special place in my heart for Francis Forever but every track means so much to me. I think Jobless Monday is so underrated though.

Side note: I have a lot to say about Mitski. I hate gatekeeping music but honestly like. I hate how her music has been dumbed down into "sad/yearning" or "for the gays", and that makes it feel sorta bland and discredits a lot of the depth. Like sure, a lot of her songs sound sad on surface level but when you really pay attention to what she's saying.. e.g. First Love/Late Spring is about loving someone so much that the feeling scares you. It's not even negative, by any means. Or Your Best American Girl is about never measuring up to the standard of your non POC partner. And her relatively recent success seems to have had a terrible impact on her, with concert behavior and the whole recording controversy, it's unfortunate to see her grow really uncomfortable with her fame as she's known to be a very private person.

3. Grace - Jeff Buckley

I've always known about Jeff Buckley since I was a small kid because of his cover of Hallelujah, but I never really dug that deep into his discography until later in high school. The first time I heard Grace I was so blown away by how powerful his voice was. I had Grace on repeat for a month when I first discovered it. The soft rolling guitar in Mojo Pin.. the intensity of the title track Grace, the summer break up vibes in Last Goodbye, the fragility of his voice in Lilac Wine, the odd chord progression in So Real.. "I love you, but I'm afraid to love" being whispered.. His voice is SO profound. Etc, He is probably one of my favorite lyricists ever, every line he writes is straight poetry. Not to mention the Sufi influences from Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.. He has such an odd vibrato and singing technique. He was such a sweet and sensitive guy. Also quite an underrated guitarist. He's like the King Midas of covers, every cover he makes turns into gold.

It's funny how a lot of my favorite artists have been influenced by him in some way. From Radiohead to Mitski to Lana Del Rey.. even people like Adele, Brad Pitt?, Jimmy Page, Phoebe Bridgers, literally you name it. The way he died was so tragic. I always wonder what he would have went on to accomplish if he had a little more time. The demo for My Sweetheart the Drunk was such a large departure from Grace, I genuinely wonder what public perception would've been if that ever released properly. Maybe he would have only been remembered for Grace and considered a flop after that, a one-album wonder. Maybe dying young cemented his legacy.

Favorite track is either Mojo Pin or So Real.

4. OK Computer - Radiohead

alright alright yeah I know two albums from the same artist on a top 10 list can be cheap but here me out. OK Computer is typically seen as the white edgy incel doomer album and is "overrated" but. From a musical perspective it's extremely impressive. Its place in alt rock history cannot be understated. At a time where grunge was dying, this album brough rock back in relevancy but in a different approach. This idea of a more artsy, experimental rock was a new and fresh flavor. The layered instrumentation and complexity.. it was very "out there" because the new computerized electronic noises were new for artists, and Radiohead was out there messing around with it. Paranoid Android was the first time I ever heard a guitar solo in 7/8 and it absolutely blew my teenage mind. There's a bit of political commentary though I don't know enough about UK politics to really say anything about that.

The themes in this album have aged beautifully. The paranoia of our world being engulfed by technology, a society where we're so advanced but even more alienated and isolated from each other, the fear of what would happen to humanity once technology became our rulers. The feelings of overstimulation and digital numbness. Fitter happier is often joked upon, but I think the lyrics really do sum up the album so well. The mundanity of life, a painful reflection of reality.

Picking a favorite is hard because I always listen to this album from start to finish. I think Climbing Up the Walls is very underrated. It captures the feeling of paranoia and losing your mind so well. I'm stopping myself from putting the rest of Radiohead's discography on here.

5. Did you know there's a tunnel under ocean blvd - Lana del Rey

Lana is... a messy person to say the least. She's made very questionable and controversial choices but honestly? She's somehow always in every single one of my playlists. But ocean blvd might be my favorite album to come out in the past 5 years, and i rank it above NFR. I love a good orchestral album, and when it lost every single grammy it was nominated for I almost saw red. I think A&W is a masterclass in songwriting and storytelling. The beat switch is so Jack Antonoff core. The themes of loss of innocence, trauma, family, identity... BEAUTIFUL!! Even the title itself is so interesting. The idea of something iconic slowly fading into irrelevancy, the question of will Lana's legacy end up just like that tunnel? I really love how personal the lyrics are compared to her previous works. I started crying at the opening track lmao.

I know she considered Chemtrails Over the Country Club to be the album that represented who she was, but Ocean Blvd nailed who she really is. I'm curious for how her next album is going to sound like. Never been a country fan but I believe Lana can nail a very specific aesthetic in the country genre.

Favorite is A&W and Kintsugi. I thought Kintsugi was a bit too slow paced for me at first but then when I heard "Daddy I miss them" I bawleddd.

6. Either/or - Elliott Smith

I'd always heard his name a lot but I never got around to checking him out until not too long ago. I knew Phoebe Bridgers cited him as a major influence, but then I kept hearing more and more people citing him like Frank Ocean, Alex G, Sufjan Stevens, even like Mac Miller, and I think I got tired of wondering who he was. When a lot of famous artists cite someone as an influence, I gotta check them out. You could immediately tell where Alex G got his low quality production vibes from haha.

I think what really drew me in is this feeling of a just a guy with a guitar singing to himself in his bedroom. I really like how soft and vulnerable his voice is. Could you argue he's not a good singer? Yeah, sure, I guess. But that's not really the point, is it? His chord progressions are very interesting and trying to learn like any of his songs on the guitar is such a nightmare, he's extremely skilled with the guitar. I love a depressing song, what can I say?

Favorite: Between the Bars, No Name no. 5, and Say Yes.

7. Melodrama - Lorde

I'm not an avid pop listener by any means, but Melodrama is the most perfect pop album I've ever heard. There are literally no unskippable tracks on this album and every time I listen to it, I feel like I have to listen to the whole album instead of single by single. Because her first album was slow paced and minimalistic, she received some flack for going more towards the maximalist pop approach, the very thing she was changing in the beginning. Despite all of the early criticism, Melodrama's aged beautifully. The lyricism is just gorgeous. It paints such a distinct picture.

It's interesting to follow Lorde as she grows older, and all of it is reflected in the music. Pure Heroine is the "growing up" album, Melodrama is the "growing pains", and Solar Power is really about settling into herself. Melodrama is her late teens/early twenties sophomore album, where she goes from the early teenage experiences to the more mature experiences. Talks about doing makeup, partying, breakups and heartaches... It's about the growing pains of moving past teenagehood. It's perfect. Listening to it while walking around college campus at night is an out of body experience. I would pay to have the album cover as a painting on my walls.

Favorite track: Hard Feelings/Loveless or Perfect Places. Love that weird experimental noise in Hard Feelings

8. Loveless - my bloody valentine

They were not lying when they said this was one of the best shoegaze albums ever. If you want to start getting into the shoegaze genre, this is the album to go to. The heavy distorted guitar banging in on the first track, the drum patterns and memorable melodies. It's very rhythmic. Shoegaze as a genre has always been so interesting to me - To have the vocals take a backseat and let the soundscape do the work, and you let this wall of sound wrap you up like blanket. It's less about what you're trying to say with the words and more about the sound itself and how it makes you feel. That fuzzy distortion makes me feel unlike anything else. When You Sleep is probably the most stand out track and the most popular, but there are many tracks that don't have any vocals, just repeated guitars. Yet somehow, somehow it's not boring to listen to.

My favorite one is Sometimes, probably the closest thing to a love ballad they'll get to. It makes me feel complete and empty at the same time. Drowsy and intimate, the mumbled lyrics. When that song came on in that one scene in Lost in Translation, it became one of my all time favorite scenes ever. That feeling of derealization and staring at a world that's right at your feet but you can't really enter it. Idk. But I think that's the point.

9. Vessel (And Regional at best) - twenty one pilots

This album has such a special place in my heart. I was going through the early teenage angst and it was the first album where I heard where it was saying "It's okay, we feel this way too." It felt a lot more personal that what I was used to hearing in middle school, like Despacito or whatever was trending that time. Yeah it's a bit reminiscent of the mid 2010s but it was also my gateway to more alternative music. It combined so many genres where it didn't feel like a particular genre. I don't really listen to twenty one pilots as much anymore but Vessel always will take me back.

I'm combining Regional At Best in this because it has a few overlapping songs and it's technically not a real album. But I would kill for a remastered version of RAB, esp songs like Slowtown. The songs meant so much to me and my younger self. However, I think Trench is the objectively best record twenty one pilots has put out.

Not sure what my favorite track would be. RAB has some golden ones. I think I would choose Kitchen Sink, but Anathema also means a lot to me.

10. Continuum - John Mayer

This album was quite influential towards my perception of guitars. I used to be obsessed with the bass guitar and I used to want to play the drums until I really listened to this album. I guess I used to think about guitar solos as flashy - Something you could shred on to show off your talent. I thought people like Van Halen and maybe Slash were talented, but the intensity and difficulty didn't really appeal to me. But I guess because Continuum is more heavily inspired by blues and souls, you don't really feel any of that (except for the Hendrix cover Bold as Love). Each solo is melodic and laidback. Mayer's known for his virtuostic guitar talent but here, he's demonstrating that he knows when to strip back.

Overall, it's just a very clean and solid album. No very skippable tracks, very ummm "friendly" to listen to. Like anyone can enjoy soft rock playing in the car, y'know.

Favorite tracks: Either Belief or I'm Gonna Find Another You

Honorable mentions (some other 10/10s)

Sam's Town - the Killers

My once favorite album.. I still love it a lot. I guess I've discovered a lot more stuff since then it took a backseat in my list of favorite albums. But I'll gladly do a rewrite of why I love it so much

This album makes you feel patriotic but not in a nationalistic, America is the best country on Earth, racist way. It's more of a cowboy, rugged individualism, independence, No Country for Old Men, western saloons and faded glamor type of feeling. Red Dead Redemption 2 type of feeling. It makes sense since they were trying to escape from the Hot Fuss era where everyone thought they were a British band. So they went the opposite direction and made this whole album is this declaration that they were Americans. Sam's Town has such an iconic opening, very "guns blazing", very Bruce Springsteen feeling. Read My Mind changed me as a person and I have no idea why exactly. It must have been my favorite song for 2 years. That final verse after the guitar solo is soul ascending.

Kessoku Band - Kessoku Band

Bocchi the Rock was the first anime I'd watched in a while and really got hooked on. Chainsaw Man was going on at the same time, but I'd already read the manga so many times I guess it wasn't the same. But BtR being a spiritual successor to K-On just really made me fall in love. The rotoscoping, attention to detail, the amount of inside jokes that only musicians can really understand. The humor is unmatched, and imo it's the embodiment of anime at its creative peak. The plot is heartwarming and relatable, the character dynamics are so great. It reminded me of my high school band lol

Overall, extremely well produced album and they got some of the best musicians in the j-rock industry like tricot haha and the peggies. The lead guitars go HAM with every solo and riff, the drum fills and patterns, not to mention how good the basslines are.

Blonde - Frank Ocean

Admittedly I was late to the Frank Ocean train, but this album in unmatched in its circle. It's such a good concept album, I just know Frank Ocean had been cooking this up for a long time. The ideas of duality, masculinity, and femininity and how the album is perfectly split in the middle at Nights during the beat switch, and how the album starts diving into the "masculine" part. Less singing, more rapping. Femininity is expressed through those pitch shifts and the topics of the songs. Blonde was even released as blond in some versions. I think my soul ascended a bit the first I heard Seigfried - Could literally pinpoint where Johnny Greenwood contributed, also the verse about dreaming about a thought. Close To You is such an underrated track. Also one of my favorite album covers.

twenty one pilots - Twenty One Pilots

Their first album and of course, it has a very fundamentally different feeling than the rest of their work. It was made in the basement Tyler Joseph and the original members of the band were staying at, and you can honestly feel it lol. It's overtly a lot more religiously themed (or more so the struggle with faith) and I guess you could say it's a lot more darker in sound, Songs like Addict With a Pen.. whew.. The songwriting is already pretty strong here, and it's a lot more piano heavy. The thing I might not like the most on that album in the way he sings. The midwestern emo accent/enunciation pops out so hard LOL. But I really appreciate this album for what it is. I'm also obsessed with the album cover.

I think my music taste has definitely evolved a bit, but I also lowkey sound like a white male/alt girl on tiktok 💀 I think compared to my last post I ever made, I've definitely improved at expressing a lot of my thoughts on music and why it's so special to me. I also really just enjoy blabbling a lot about music even though no one will probably see this haha. I have a lot more albums that I absolutely love and picking just 10 is impossible. Maybe I'll do this challenge again in another 5 years and see what's different haha