Icon from a picrew by grgikau. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
hey. to the fat person reading this who wants to transition or is transitioning. make your transition goals fat like you. please. the things you aim to gain from transition can be gained while fat. you can be/express your gender and be fat. there is nothing wrong with that, no matter what anyone says. i promise.
let yourself exist. let yourself be happy. you have just as much of a right as every other person in this world to do that, especially as you transition. it’s okay. you’re going to be alright, and you’re also going to look fucking awesome. you already look fucking awesome. it’s your body. own it.
Picture this: You are young and charismatic and very intelligent and you are so, so alone. Through no fault of your own, you have had the responsibility of a secret balanced upon your shoulders. It’s not your secret, not really, you never had a choice in the matter, but if it gets out your life will be ruined. So, from childhood, you’ve known you couldn’t let anyone too close.
But you are young. You are young and weighed down with secrets and you meet a man who wears his deception like great gilded armor. You don’t know what lies beneath, but you watch him stroll through the Promenade and you know as well as he does that he is untouchable.
You have lunch once or twice a week. You trade novels and sharp remarks and at some point you realize you know him better than anyone else on the station. You realize you don’t know him at all.
You know he thinks he knows you. You know he doesn’t know you’re lying.
And then suddenly he’s fading in front of you, maybe dying because of his secrets and you realize all at once that he was never wearing armor. He’s like you, forced to tell lies since before they could fit properly into his mouth, and at some point someone took the loose ends and wove them into a cage.
There is a man in your life who is just like you and he is dying in your care. He tells you stories of his life and you know none of them are true, you know there are some secrets a man carries to his grave. He tells you stories and you can hear the truth in every word and you can’t help but ask him why he’s telling you all this.
He looks you straight in the eyes, the bastard, and the answer rolls off his tongue, smooth as honey, soaked in fear he dare not speak aloud, I need to know that someone forgives me.
You know this man better than anyone. You do not know him at all. He has bared his soul to you and he was lying through his teeth. You look at him and see yourself and you make a decision.
Also I was so resistant to exploring the DS9 novels with Kelas in them out of misplaced loyalty to Julian, but now I see that the authors (I.e. you and Andrew Robinson) have done such a good job writing everyone that I've been swayed over to Kelas. Realistically, do you think there would ever be a scenario where they were poly? Garak certainly seems to love them both, and Kelas also seems to understand the nature of his relationship to Bashir and encourages Garak to honor that relationship (granted it's easier to be kind and understanding about your bf's past love when that love is comatose). I am concerned that Bashir's insecurities couldn't handle it though. In my head it would be a very messy and high maintainence relationship but perhaps one that in time could be fruitful and successful. Thoughts?
This was going to be one of the main emotional arcs in my never-to-done third Cardassian book, The End of This Day’s Business. The emotional “bumps” that I was interested in exploring were:
Garak wasn’t sure why it clicked in that particular moment. They hadn’t been doing anything special. Garak was chopping up some fresh kenil stalks for dinner. Julian had walked up behind him and pressed his forehead to his shoulder.
“Long day?” Garak asked, although he already knew the answer. Julian nodded against him. “Well, dinner will be ready soon,” he said.
“Thank you, love,” Julian said. Garak felt rather than saw Julian peek over his shoulder at what he was making. “Wait, you’re doing it by hand?”
“I thought that was painfully obvious,” Garak said as he swept the tough, fibrous ends of the stalks off his cutting board with the edge of his knife.
“No, no, no,” Julian said, plucking the knife out of Garak’s hand. He scoot him away from the cutting board with a bump of his hip. “I’ll do it. You check on the stew or something.”
“My dear, it’s quite–”
“Don’t you dare tell me it’s ‘alright,’ Elim Garak,” Julian said imperiously. “I’m the one who did the scans on your hands, remember? I’m the one who gave you the arthritis pills. Until those start healing your hands, you’re not doing any cutting up of fibrous plants. Do we understand each other?”
Tears filled Garak’s eyes. He tried to blink them away, but failed miserably. He sniffled. He never sniffled. Sniffling was undignified of a Cardassian well past the age of schoolyard complaints. The noise caught Julian’s attention. “Oh, God… Elim, I’m sorry,” he said, rushing to take hold of Garak’s hands. “I didn’t mean…” He rubbed his thumb over Garak’s knuckles. “You’ll be perfectly capable in a bit. You just need to take it easy is all.”
“You love me,” Garak said. The words tumbled out of him unbidden.
Julian reared his head back, his brow furrowed. “Well, yes,” he said. “We’re married.”
“No, I mean you really, truly love me,” Garak said. “Even if I were to be of no use to you whatsoever.”
Julian grimaced at him. “Well, you are known for being incredibly useless,” he teased.
Tears streaked down Garak’s cheeks.
Julian’s eyes widened. “Shit! No, I mean… That was a joke, Elim. You know I think you’re incredibly clever and… Useful?“ He furrowed his brow. "Where did this idea of usefulness come from?”
“Forget I said anything,” Garak said, wrenching his hands from Julian’s grip. The act was a physically painful one in addition to the emotional pain he felt.
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Julian said. He reached for Garak again, then presumably remembered that he was dealing with a former member of the Obsidian Order and dropped his hand to his side. “So maybe try me again on this usefulness idea?”
“It was simply a turn of phrase,” Garak lied.
Julian groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “Lying spiral,” he said. It was the term that Julian had come up with during their first year of marriage for when Garak thought the truth couldn’t be told and began to spin more and more elaborate lies. “You’re in a lying spiral.”
“I am not!” Garak lied. “I can’t help that you’re still ignorant of Cardassian idioms after living on Cardassia Prime for ten years.”
“I’m not and you’re definitely in a lying spiral,” Julian said. He walked back over to the cutting board and began chopping the kenil again. “Just… tell me when you’re out of it. I’m worried.”
For some reason that Garak would not acknowledge, the words “I’m worried” drew more tears out of him. He retreated to their bedroom to try to garner his self-control again.
the best thing about the moon and the sky and the stars is that while you can’t ever take a picture of them that does them justice……you don’t need to. they’re gonna be there tomorrow
Everyone writes about how Hob rescued Dream from Burgess’ captivity, but imagine if Hob didn’t rescue him.
At some moment in the 1920s or 30s, he attends a Roderick Burgess party and hears someone talking about the devil in the basement, but he doesn’t attach any importance to these rumors because he doesn’t believe that it’s true. He just laughs at the silly tales of superstitious guests and leaves there. And when in 2022 he finds out that Morpheus has been imprisoned there all this time, he just… starts crying and blaming himself, and begging Dream to forgive him.
Dream doesn’t understand, he thinks that it was because of Hob that he was captured, that Hob thus took revenge for him for abandoning him in 1889. But when, through tears, Hob explains that it’s his fault that he did not take the rumor about Burgess’ secret seriously and did not save Morpheus, his heart just breaks with love for this man.
And if you have given this post a “like”, then welcome to my masochist club.
