#I didn't have time this week to write something more
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sweetheartbitesb4ck · 2 days ago
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part one || part two || part three || this is part four
The weeks following your first 'date' with Simon were full of going on little walks together, but most of all? The pings, to say the least. He would text you so often it came as a shock to you he even had a job. You found it amusing, sure, maybe even annoying, but you hadn't anticipated the sheer silence when he was 'away with work', as he put it.
You had guessed that meant deployed or something of the sorts... and it worried you, yeah, but your feelings for him were still new and you didn't want to get hurt if anything was to happen.
You'd been excited when he'd promised to write to you a few days before he left, but as the days flew by with nothing more than some bills, bank statements and late birthday cards dropping through the letter box it occurred to you that Simon Riley had been too blown away when he first saw you in your house to remember the road name, and far to drunk when he first spoke to you to remember the number on your front door.
So Simon sat there when he wasn't fighting or in briefings and had downtime (which was rare) writing letters he knew he couldn't send away, partly because it was a risk to send stuff away and partly because he would just blank on your god damn address every single time.
He didn't even have his phone because of something to do with trackers and intel and it was all a bit of a fuzz of unconfirmed information that Simon had explained to on a walk a few days before his departure.
This is what worried you. You obviously knew the dangers, and you two weren't even 'official' yet, but you would have liked to be updated. You couldn't help but feel a bit sick when your mind travelled to the horrors his job could boast.
Prior to his deployment, you and Simon had got to know each other a little better, which only made your nerves worse now you had more of a bond, plus you had gotten to see the less flustered version of him. You'd mostly talked over the phone but had also gone on a few walks together. It felt weird; missing someone you'd so quickly fallen for. You could only hope as the days blurred into weeks then into months.
Then, two months later, Simon was back. He'd been resting and getting medical support for a day or two before he journeyed home, and his first thought? It was to retrace his steps down that one road to that house with the open window that had changed everything. He could have slept, unpacked, done anything, but all he wanted to do was to see you.
You groan as you hear a knock against the door... you'd just about drifted off after hours and hours of tossing and turning, your head reluctant to rest. Trudging downstairs, you pull on a hoodie over your pyjamas. "Who the fuck..?" You murmur, clicking on the hallway light and unbolting the door, ready to dive back into bed.
"What?" You grumble as you swing the door just a crack open, your eyes widening and breath hitching at seeing that tall frame and skull mask. You slam it shut, fumbling to unlatch the door and burst it open, flying into the bulky man's arms and screaming.
Simon grins under the balaclava, stumbling backwards slightly as you bounce onto him. "You alright?" He asks, his voice so nonchalant even as you wrap your arms around him. Probably still trying to seem cool for you.
You pull back, face still covered in shock. "Fucking alright? That's all you have to say?" You cry, voice a few pitches higher than usual. "Fuck, Simon... you said you would write!" You mumble, leaning back in to hug him. Part of you wanted to say there forever, holding him there and squeezing him as hard as you could, but you knew you should probably invite him in. So that's what you do.
His mind flicks back to Soap's so called relationship advice, the words "honesty is key" in that loud Scottish accent rattling through his mind. "Okay fine," He grunts, avoiding eye contact. "I hate tea. Can't bloody stand the stuff."
"Well," Ghost replies, shoving his hands into the big pockets of his tactical jacket as he steps inside, shutting the front door behind him and following you to the kitchen "I didn't know your address," He admits, smirking as you raise an eyebrow at him and snicker. "Oh yeah," You chuckle slightly, trying to refrain from smothering the poor bloke as he takes a seat at your table. "Tea?" You tilt your head and glance at the kettle.
"I hate t-" Simon bites the inside of his cheek and curses under his breath. Fuck... He thinks, realising him lying about loving the drink would probably wean him into having it regularly. "Tea's great," He nods, noting how you raise your eyebrows, expression sceptical.
Simon nods, rubbing his eyes sarcastically. "It's probably too late to walk home, aye," He says, eyebrows raised.
You huff with amusement, flicking the kettle off and rifling through your cabinet. "I'm out of coffee,"
You and Simon chatted for hours, sitting at the table. At first, he was jittery, but he soon relaxed, trying to stop staring at you, although this was hard as he finds you so breathtakingly perfect.
A few hours later, you tilt your head and smile at Ghost as he yawns. "You must be tired," You say softly, leaning on the counter.
"Yeah," You respond, scratching your neck with a mock confusion. "Lucky I have a double bed, eh?"
And with that, the two of you curled up on the mattress, Ghost pulling you towards him, arms firm around you as he let the gentle rise and fall of your chest guide him to sleep.
"You're sure?" Asks Ghost, his nervous expression from the coffee shop returning to his face. He was still terrified of scaring you away, but wanted nothing more than to collapse onto your bed and just hold you. You nod, smiling gently. "Come on." Taking your hand, Simon follows you upstairs to your cosy room, allowing himself to relax, stop being awkward. The decoration alone made him feel at home, probably because it shone with your personality.
Love. Simon was sure that's what that feeling was... the one that had seized his whole being since he first set eyes upon you.
Never in a million years would he have predicted this if he was asked about his future a few months ago, but here you were, two awkward and unsure people falling in love from nowhere.
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thank you sm for reading! I hope you enjoyed part four..! if anyone wants a part five, I'll most likely do it, ( I just need to figure out what I'd write... probably something about the letters) but yea if u want that just let me know.... also, feel free to make any asks for fics u would like to see :)
sorry if my posting is irregular for a while! I'm back at uni and work after the Christmas break so very busy
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yyawnjun · 2 days ago
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SOUP AND TEARS
a.n.: hii hello guys im slowly coming back!! and the crowd ???; always a bit stressed and busy, soo here's for y'all smting comforting (who am i kidding, all of this is pure sweet) ; fluff !! ; now let's all say THANK YOU TOO MY GIRL @sobun1est for proofreading all of this, ilysm <3; @k-labels @kflixnet @en-diaries ; 1.2k wc
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your head was feeling heavier and your eyes were slowly closing. it was now after 9 pm, and you were at your house, with your computer open and many sheets all around your desk; it was exams season and you were stressing.
everything around you could have felt your anxiety, your leg was shaking to keep you awake and you kept writing and writing at your computer.
it was one of the biggest exams and you still had one week to prepare for it. but on that evening the more you tried to focus, the more you lost it.
“Yn! it’s ready, come to eat something.” the most comforting voice brought you back to life
“pretty please?” you heard your boyfriend’s voice, as a head peeked out from your bedroom door.
“five more minutes,” you said, almost whispering.
“pretty please, you worked enough for today”
“i can go on for another five minutes,” you replied, turning to him. and in that moment you realized that maybe you couldn’t.
you felt your head hurting a lot, and spinning intermittently, your eyes were burning from the dim light from the lamp and your words were stuck in your throat.
so you just nodded and tried to get up
“i recognize that look, you worked too much today” 
“finals..” you murmured.
he quickly moved to open the door for you
as soon as you stepped out of your room a pleasant smell hit you; you didn't recognize it right away, you just felt warmed by it as if your whole body felt like it was wrapped in a nice hot blanket.
“Please take this, okay?” heeseung said while taking off his sweatshirt and passing it to you.
you weren’t cold?
oh no wait, you were shivering. but at the same time, you were too exhausted to notice it.
“thank you” you replied while putting it on.
without even noticing you were now holding his hand, and for the whole passage to the kitchen gripped to it as if it was only thank to that you were able to stand up.
you were still trying to not move too fast nor to take your eyes too open otherwise you felt you could have fallen at any moment.
“i fear i have reached my limit for today” 
“you did a lot, maybe too much”
“but exams…”
and without adding anything heeseung just squeezed your hand a little and turned towards you.
his gaze softened, his smile appeared and his hands slowly cupped your face. first, he moved it closer to his, your eyes were still half closed and your noses were now rubbing against each other's.
it was not just that house that smelled of something so familiar and comforting, it was him.
heeseung then moved his lips against your forehead, and gently kissed it. your eyes were still closed as if you were trying your best to feel him closer to you.
now your head was leaning on his chest, your face fitting right perfectly in the crock of his neck. your arms were around him, and his head leaning gently on your head.
what if human bodies were just meant to hold each other?
and now you were thinking about nothing, but your eyes felt watery.
“you can cry now baby” and as you were waiting for permission to do it.
you cried, you cried a lot.
from that moment you just remembered blacking out and slowly falling on the floor. and heeseung with you, always holding you. holding you like something inestimable, letting your bodies melt together.
you felt inebriated by his sweet comfort, so lost in it, feeling like a sailor lost in the fog, blindly following the voice of a mermaid.
“darling hi, beautiful now look at me” 
you followed that voice and slowly opened your eyes.
you were now seeing everything so foggy, and you felt his hands moving to your face and his fingers caressing your temples.
he moved them to dry your tears, and all of a sudden your eyesight came back.
“darling, can I see your beautiful eyes, mh?”
but you weren't moving, you were just there sitting on the floor and lying on his chest.
he kept caressing you while whispering sweet words.
“Let me carry you on the sofa, and I will bring you some of the soup I've cooked for you. what do you think beautiful?”
all of these compliments and sweet words were helping to warm your heart and clevering your vision.
“thank you”
as soon as he heard your voice, his eyes lighted up and he quickly wrapped you close to him and moved you on the sofa.
while passing next to the kitchen you peeked in quickly And noticed how he decorated the whole room.
a candle not lighted up yet was surrounded by two red plates and matched glasses. Many snacks that you loved were. everything was so still, that few seconds you had to notice it was now Imprinted forever in your mind.
“here's a blanket for you, I will be right back darling, okay?” he asked in the sweetest tone possible.
suddenly you felt his presence moving away, the warmth of his body becoming lighter.
“baby, it's your favorite soup and I've cooked it all by myself” he said so proudly as a smile appeared on your face.
“ you're smiling “ he whispered, while leaning closer to you and moving a scoop full of soup To you. 
“Oh, it's delicious. thank you hee” you were able to say before feeling your tears forming again.
“You can eat it all” he said while slowly feeding you.
You were now gaining your natural color, your cheeks were pinkish and your eyes lighted up.
As you kept eating, your tears kept falling.
Your soup tastes a little bit like them now, no  matter how many times your boyfriend was drying them.
“I'm sorry” you were trying to keep repeating between the taste of tears and soup; while he just scoffed his head.
before you could even realize you had finished it, and now you were just staring at each other. 
“Don't ever be sorry for this: okay? instead, let me just help you. allow me to hold you for a bit more mh?”
“it will get better” he kept repeating while caressing your shoulder, 
“say it with me because you need to believe it, my Love”
And now your sorrows were more similar to comforting words.
“look, there's the moon watching over you tonight,” he said, after calming you a bit and pointing outside the window.
“ beautiful “
“Yeah, the moon is beautiful “
“Heeseung you are beautiful “ you said while looking at him. His eyes moved towards you again and his ears became reddish.
He smiled at you and suddenly your head was spinning again, but this time it was slower, more calming, and almost comforting.
“it will get better” was the last thing you heard before finally letting yourself fall asleep in his arms.
Oh, humans were really made to hold each other like this, he whispered before closing his eyes and falling asleep next to you.
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x1un4rx · 2 days ago
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| A Night to Remember | (No Outbreak) |
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Pairings: Bf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: A quiet night out with Joel turns into a meaningful and intimate experience for the reader. After a cozy dinner, the two of them escape to a peaceful spot to stargaze, enjoying each other’s company. It’s a night of connection, comfort, and a little bit of unexpected tension, all under the stars.
Warnings: mild language, fluff, jealousy, mild possessiveness, light romance.
A/N: I had fun (also suffered) writing this one! I wanted to make it sweet, soft, and a little steamy—because who doesn’t love a little romance, right? Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think! <3 (I didn't proof-read this properly, so apologies if something sounds weird/doesn't make sense.)
Word Count: 2,8k+
Credits: @adornedwithlight for the lovely dividers <33
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The house was unusually quiet tonight. No sounds of Ellie barging through the door with her usual energy, no music playing from her room, no chaos over something small that you both would inevitably laugh about later. It was just the two of you, alone for the evening, and it felt like a luxury. Sarah was in college now, juggling her studies and figuring out life away from home and Ellie was at a friend’s house for the night—a sleepover, her first in weeks, and the quiet was strangely comforting.
You were standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, adjusting your hair for the third time. It wasn’t a special occasion or anything—just a romantic dinner date with Joel. But you’d been looking forward to it, especially after the week you’d both had. You were used to the small moments with him—the late-night talks, the quiet mornings—but tonight, you wanted to feel a little more… put together. The soft fabric of your dress hugged your figure just enough, nothing flashy, but enough to make you feel good about yourself. You didn’t need anything extravagant to remind you of how far you’d come with Joel. But maybe, just maybe, tonight felt different.
You caught your reflection in the mirror for a second too long and realized you were smiling at yourself. You could hear Joel’s low, familiar voice from behind the door.
“Everything alright in there?”
You rolled your eyes, still trying to get the perfect look. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just making sure I don’t look like a disaster.”
Joel’s chuckle came through the door, warm and teasing. “You can’t not look good, babe.”
You felt a smile tug at your lips. That’s Joel. The man who knew exactly how to make you feel like the most beautiful person in the room—even when you weren’t trying. His words were like a secret confidence boost you never asked for but always appreciated.
You gave up trying to get your hair perfect and called out to him. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Miller.”
There was another soft knock on the door, followed by the sound of the door creaking open. Joel’s face appeared, and you immediately had to suppress a laugh. There he was, looking like he’d just stepped out of a magazine. His jeans were perfectly worn in, his shirt a little more pressed than usual, sleeves rolled up, showcasing his forearms—those strong, calloused hands that always made you feel safe.
“You still gonna be in there forever, or what?” Joel grinned, crossing his arms, leaning against the doorframe with that cocky, laid-back expression you loved so much. “I was startin’ to think you were gonna leave me hangin’.”
You raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning him up and down. “Dramatic much?”
Joel smirked, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second. He always had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. It wasn’t like he had to try—it just happened.
“Yeah, yeah. Dramatic. You ready yet, or am I gonna have to keep waitin’ for you?” he asked, moving closer, wrapping him arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder, breathing on your neck.
You felt your chest flutter, and despite the teasing in his tone, you could tell there was something softer in his eyes. Something different tonight. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You always know how to make everything look effortless, don’t you?” His voice was lower now, more sincere than teasing.
You laughed softly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “You’re just saying that.” Joel looked at you through the mirror, looking at you in utterly disbelief. "I would never lie to you, my love."
Joel then pulled away from you and just smiled, a quiet, affectionate smile, before extending his hand. “C’mon, let’s get outta here before I forget we actually have a reservation.”
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The drive to the restaurant was easy, comfortable. The quiet between you was never awkward—just the gentle hum of the engine and the music playing softly on the radio, songs that you both recognized. You didn’t need to fill the silence with anything more.
But when you pulled up outside the restaurant, a new energy seemed to shift. Joel straightened in his seat, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel. It wasn’t just a dinner to him. He had been planning this for awhile, putting in the effort, and you could feel the anticipation coming off of him in waves.
“Ready?” he asked, eyes glinting as he turned to look at you.
You met his gaze, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest. He didn’t just ask if you were ready for the evening. He was asking if you were ready for the next few hours—just the two of you, away from everything.
He always had a way of making everything else disappear.
“I’m ready,” you said, leaning over and pressing a kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t big or showy—just a quiet, simple gesture—but you saw the way his grin grew in response.
“You’re too good lookin’,” Joel said, "You sure you don't want me to start the truck again, head home and have fun in bed instead?" his voice laced with fondness and teasingness.
You gave him a look, "No love, let's go have a lovely dinner, instead of being cooped up at home and eating leftovers."
He held your hand as soon as you both climbed out of the truck, keeping you close to him as you made your way toward the restaurant. There was a quiet protectiveness in the way he kept his hand around yours, like he didn’t want to let go, even for a second.
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. “You gonna hold my hand the whole night, or what?”
Joel flashed you an exaggerated pout, that teasing look never leaving his face. “What can I say? You’re way too good lookin’ to let go. Gotta keep you close just in case.”
You laughed softly, the warmth of his touch grounding you. You could tell that tonight—tonight, he wasn’t just the guy who looked out for you. He was all in, fully present, and it made your heart beat a little faster than usual.
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Dinner passed in a blur of delicious food and even better conversation. Joel was as charming as ever, effortlessly making you laugh with his lovely, dry humor and his little sarcastic remarks. But it wasn’t just the jokes—it was the way he’d lean in a little closer when he spoke, the way his hand brushed against yours under the table, the quiet glances that spoke volumes more than words could.
It was comfortable, easy. The kind of night that made you feel like you were the only two people who mattered in the world.
And then, just as dessert was being served, Joel excused himself to the bathroom. You were left to your own thoughts for a moment, the buzz of the restaurant fading into the background.
That’s when the guy, whom seemed like he was from the bar across the road due to his wobbly footing, was walking up to you, had caught your eye.
Your not in the mood for this. You wanted a lovely dinner with your man, but this guy had to rock up... amazing.
“Hey, beautiful. Can I sit with you?” His voice was too smooth, too confident. He leaned against the edge of your table, his body angled just a little too close.
"I saw you from the bar across the road, thought I might take a chance with a pretty girl like you." He said, eyeing you up and down. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.
You blinked, taken off guard. “Uh, I’m waiting for someone,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
The guy didn’t move, just smiled, and leaned in a little more. “Oh, come onn, we could share a drink or something. I’m sure the bloke you came with won’t mind.”
You raised an eyebrow, more uncomfortable now. “No, really. I’m fine.”
But he didn’t back off. He just kept smiling like it was all a joke, a game. “You sure? I think you’re missing your chance here pretty, you positive you wouldn't want a drink with lil' ol' me?” This man was gradually becoming more disgusting and annoying by the millisecond.
Your patience was wearing thin, and you didn’t want to make a scene, but his persistence was starting to piss you off. Just as you were about to speak again, you saw Joel coming back from the bathroom.
You felt the relief flood through you, but it was short-lived. Joel’s eyes scanned the room, landing on the guy standing far too close to you. He didn’t hesitate for a second.
“Everything okay here?” Joel’s voice was low, calm, but you could see the shift in his body, the protective stance he was taking.
The guy hesitated for a moment, his smirk faltering. He clearly hadn’t expected Joel to show up so quickly, and when he saw the way Joel was looking at him—there was no mistaking the intent. Joel wasn’t backing down.
“Yeah, yeah, no problem,” the guy muttered, giving you a final look before retreating.
Joel didn’t take his eyes off the guy until he was out of sight. Then, he turned to you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand.
“You okay? Did he do anything to you darlin'? ” His voice was quieter now, almost apologetic. He was the kind of guy who didn’t like confrontation, but when it came to you? He’d do anything to make sure you felt safe.
You smiled at him, grateful. “Yeah, just didn’t know what to do. Thanks for stepping in hun.”
Joel squeezed your hand, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. “Ain’t no one gonna mess with you when I’m around, sweetheart.”
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After dinner, Joel’s truck rumbled down the quiet road, the noise of the city faded into the background, it was like stepping into another world altogether. The quiet of the woods wrapped around you like a blanket—peaceful, uninterrupted. Just the sound of your breaths and the rustle of leaves in the distance.
The air was cool, carrying the fresh scent of earth and pine, the kind of crisp evening breeze that settled into your bones, making everything feel clean and new. When Joel finally pulled off the main road, heading into a small, secluded patch of woods, you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat a little faster. There was something about the stillness of nature that always made you feel both small and incredibly alive, especially with Joel beside you.
He parked the truck at the edge of a grassy hill, surrounded by nothing but open land and a sky full of stars. It was perfect—just like he’d planned.
You stepped out of the truck, inhaling the cool air deeply, letting it fill your lungs. The night seemed to expand in every direction, endless and vast. You walked a few paces away, and then, for a moment, you simply stopped and tilted your head back. The sky was so clear, so wide, that it took your breath away. The stars shone like diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas, each one brighter and closer than you’d ever seen in the city.
You could see the Milky Way, a faint but beautiful streak across the sky, and the constellations you’d learned about as a kid suddenly seemed more real, more tangible. There was something magical about being here, so far from everything else. The stars felt almost like they were there just for you, like they were a secret shared only between you and the universe.
Joel’s voice broke through your thoughts, warm and close. “You alright?”
You turned toward him and smiled, already knowing he was watching you with that soft, caring expression. The kind that made you feel like you were the only person who mattered in the world to him. "Yeah, just... it’s amazing out here."
Joel chuckled lightly, walking over to you and placing a hand on your back, guiding you to the blanket he’d set out on the grass. “I thought you might like it,” he said, that grin of his tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You did mention it when we first met." You looked at him, smiling slightly. "You remembered it?" You were surprised he remembered something from 3 years ago.
You sat down on the blanket, and Joel followed, stretching out beside you. His hand brushed against yours, fingers intertwining, his warmth against your side, a steady presence that grounded you. You both lay back, the sky opening up above you, vast and endless, and for a moment, it was like everything else melted away. The truck, the world, everything. It was just the two of you, the stars, and the cool night air.
As you settled in, your head found its place against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful calm. Joel’s arm draped casually over your body, his fingers lightly brushing the skin of your arm, as if he wanted to be as close to you as possible without even trying. You could feel the gentle pulse of his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was a familiar sound, comforting and safe, and you let yourself sink into it.
“The stars look different out here,” Joel said, his voice a soft rasp in the stillness, like he was marveling at the view for the first time too. "They look...prettier."
You smiled, your eyes tracing the patterns above you. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet, almost in awe. “They’re... more alive. Like you can actually see them, y’know? The way they’re all scattered across the sky, like the universe just decided to let us in on its secret.”
Joel let out a soft hum of agreement, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. “Guess there’s a whole lot more out there than we ever see, huh?”
You nodded, unable to look away from the stars. “It’s... it’s incredible. Sometimes I forget how big the world is, how much of it we don’t even know about.”
For a long time, neither of you spoke. There was something peaceful about that silence, a comfortable kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward but full of understanding. Just the gentle rustle of the grass beneath you, the breeze moving the trees in the distance, and the faint hum of insects.
“I used to come out here a lot,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady, as if the night made you want to share more than you usually did. “When things were rough, I’d just lie on my back and look up at the stars. It always made me feel like... like I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was.”
Joel’s fingers paused in their movement, and you could feel him turn his head toward you, his gaze soft in the darkness. “You were never alone darlin',” he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle, like he wanted to reassure you that you were never carrying the weight of the world by yourself.
You met his gaze, finding the sincerity in his eyes. It made your heart skip a beat.
“Yeah, but... it’s different now,” you whispered. “I have you. And I’m not just looking at the stars alone anymore.”
Joel smiled at that, a little crooked grin that made your chest feel warm. “Well, we got a hell of a view tonight, don’t we?” He nudged you gently with his elbow, his voice laced with affection.
You laughed softly, leaning closer to him, your fingers brushing his again. “We do. It’s perfect.”
His arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah… it’s just right.” His voice dropped, almost to a whisper, like he was speaking to you alone, like the night itself was a secret between just the two of you. “Just us. Right here.”
You nestled your head a little deeper into his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the steady, comforting beat of his heart. The stars seemed to shine even brighter when you thought about how far you’d come, how much you’d shared and how much more you still had ahead of you.
For a few moments, you let yourself drift, your eyes closed, breathing in the night air. You didn’t need words. You didn’t need anything more than this—the quiet company of someone who understood you, the peaceful presence of the stars above, and the promise that no matter what, you’d always have this moment to hold on to.
In that moment, it wasn’t just about the stars or the quiet, but about everything that had led up to this. How far you’d come. How much you had, just right here, with him.
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- lunar <3
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burntheedges · 1 day ago
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Pas de Deux Chapter 13
Din Djarin x f!reader | 4k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3
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chapter summary: it's finally the night of the Gala, and it's finally time to perform with Din.
a/n: First, if you didn't see the AMAZING art @kenobiwanx made of ballet!Din, please go look now!!!
Second, a week or so ago @iknowisoundcrazy asked me about a scene I was proud of writing, or something like that, and my answer was really this chapter. I just couldn't say that yet. I hope y'all enjoy it. I can't believe we only have one more chapter! I'm super behind on replying to your amazing comments because I just moved over the weekend, but I will catch up, I promise. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, dancing, flirting, touching, pet names (sweetheart), hand-holding, intense feelings, kissing, I think we've already covered all of the dance moves in this chapter but I added some links used previously just in case
Chapter 13
At call time, you were feeling much more relaxed and ready for the performance. You successfully avoided the tornado that was Greef Karga backstage (where Alexa and Vince were corralling him) and found one of your usual spots in the dressing room near Adrian. He was already dressed for Jee’s piece in a full-coverage bodysuit with a skin color background and abstract shapes printed on it in blue. You knew his fellow dancers were in similar outfits with different colors, and that the shapes were somehow incorporated into the choreography. Jee was good at things like that.
You quickly put on your bodysuit and your sweats over top. It was a little chilly backstage and you had plenty of time before the show would start. 
Adrian leaned against the counter to your right and crossed his arms. “Where’s your other half?”
You pointed upwards – there were a couple of dressing rooms that were more private, and you were pretty sure that’s where Din had been getting ready. “He’ll be down in a bit. You ready?”
He nodded, smiling. “This is a fun one. Jee’s choreography is always weird, but cool.”
You laughed as you finished your stage makeup. “True,” you agreed.
Fifteen minutes later, Din popped his head into the room. He had on a loose t-shirt and sweats, but you figured he had his shorts on underneath. You noticed a few people waved at him and he nodded in response. He caught your eye in the mirror and motioned for you to join him in the hall. 
You looked at Adrian. “See you in a bit.”
He smiled and shoved your shoulder lightly. “Get out of here.”
You laughed and joined Din in the doorway. He smiled and led you to the right and around the corner, and you realized where you were going. There was a tiny dressing room with no mirror that no one ever used, except for taking naps – it had a somewhat comfortable loveseat.
As you entered, you realized no one was in there but Din’s bag was on the couch. “Is this where you’ve been getting ready?” The room was so small that the two of you basically filled it.
He nodded, a bit sheepish. “I just drop by the other room to use the mirror.”
You smiled. “If I’d known I’d have come and claimed the couch,” you teased.
He ducked his head and smiled. “You’re always welcome.”
You moved over to the couch and sat down. “So, what’s up?”
Din leaned against the folding table that ran the length of the wall by the door. “Could you help me with the body paint? I think some of it wore off in the back.”
“Sure,” you said, moving to get up, but he waved you back down.
“Not yet. We’ve got a few minutes and it’s too cold to be basically naked in here already.” 
You laughed. “True. But we want it to dry, right?”
He sighed. “Alright. Ok, come here.” His hands moved to the hem of his shirt and he tugged it gingerly over his head. You realized he was avoiding the paint. It was dry, though, and looked fine.
“Where’s the problem? The front looks fine.” Your eyes traveled over the swirls on his torso and you smiled, lightly. When you met his eyes he was smirking again.
“Should I take off my pants, too?” His eyes were almost sparkling as he teased you.
You gasped, just for show. “Din! What are you insinuating, hmm?” You stepped up next to him and took a closer look at the paint, looking for any spots that had rubbed off.
As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips and pulled you forward between his open knees on the table. You flailed a bit as you looked for somewhere to rest your hands, eventually settling on his forearms. You didn’t want to mess up the paint, which was mostly on his torso and biceps. 
Once you were steady, he leaned forward, far enough that his lips were almost touching your ear. “I saw you check me out, you know. Last week.” His voice was deep, and you shivered again. He pulled back and grinned.
“Din Djarin, you tease.” 
He squeezed your hips and shook his head. “It’s not a tease, sweetheart. I checked you out, too.” He cleared his throat and looked down. “Not for the first time.”
You smiled. “Adrian said we were both watching each other in class, all the time.”
Din laughed. “I don’t know how you didn’t see me. It felt like I never looked at anything else.”
You felt your face heat. “Ok. Enough of that. We have a performance,” you poked him in the side and laughed when he tried to dodge, “get your head in the game.” He smiled and squeezed your hips again. “Now let me see your back.”
You moved back as he stood so he could turn in front of you. For a moment you simply looked – your eyes danced over his broad shoulders and then down his spine. You wanted to reach out and touch, to trace the lines of his muscles and curve of his waist with your fingertips. He was so strong. 
You shook your head. The paint. You frowned as you looked for any breaks in the paint. “Din, it looks fine. I don’t see any spots where you need a touch up.”
When he turned back to face you, his expression was suspiciously blank. “Oh? Well, maybe I was wrong, then.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Din Djarin, did you have ulterior motives when you brought me in here?”
He smirked again and shook his head. “No, you know we’re saving those for later. I just…” he sighed. “I’d rather wait with you than alone.”
You rolled your eyes at him, but smiled. “You could have just said that.”
He shrugged. “There could have been some spots to touch up. You never know.”
You laughed and tugged him over to the couch. He sat sideways so as not to actually rub off any of his paint, and you sank into the corner. “How much time do you think we have?”
“Probably about ten minutes.” The first movement was after Vince’s piece, which opened the show. You needed to be backstage when it started. Then the second movement was between Talia’s and Jee’s, and the third finished the show. 
You reached for his hand and laced your fingers together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to get comfortable touching your pas de deux partner before a performance, but you knew this felt different, for both of you. “Want to go warm up?” He nodded. “Alright. Meet me backstage? I have to go do my pre-show thing with Adrian.”
Din raised an eyebrow, and you realized he’d never seen your “thing”, as you called it. “Or you can come and watch, if you want. We just have a silly handshake and then we hug.”
It turned out that he did want to watch, and he followed you back to your dressing room after stripping off his sweatpants. You allowed yourself to ogle his legs briefly before leading him out of the room. “Do you have any show rituals?”
Din shrugged. “Not really. I usually do the same stretches and warm up.” He thought about it for a moment. “Grogu says I have a lucky shirt. It’s in my bag.”
You laughed. You realized, as you grabbed Adrian and started your ritual handshake, that you felt more at ease, more comfortable than you usually did before a performance.
It must be because of Din, you figured. It was hard to be nervous when you knew he’d be there with you for every step. Adrian hugged you, and you squeezed him until he made an “oof” sound.
“Ok, ok, let me go. Don’t squeeze me to death.” You laughed at his grumbling as Adrian pulled back to check his costume in the mirror. “Go do your thing, I’ll see you backstage later.”
You pulled off your sweats and left them at your spot. You grabbed your pointe shoes and turned to face Din, who was looking at you. Well, he was looking at your legs. You grinned. 
“Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm. As you passed him, you murmured, “who’s checking who out now, hmm?” 
Din followed you out, and once in the hall, he said, smirking, “I already confessed.”
You made your way backstage together and found a spot where you could warm up in the large area behind the wings. You put on your shoes and began to help each other stretch.
Kuiil found you there a few minutes later, and he smiled down at you both. “Are you ready?”
You both nodded, but Din said, “we are.” His voice was firm and warm and it made you smile.
Kuiil nodded. “Yes, you are. Excellent. I will be in the audience. I wish to see it as I meant others to see it. I will see you soon.” He reached down and rested a hand on each of your shoulders. “Remember. Be in the moment, and be there for each other.”
WIth that, he turned and made his way down the hall and, you presumed, out to the audience. You felt warmed from his clear pride and belief in the two of you together. 
As you finished stretching, you heard the audience settle down, and you figured the house lights had just gone down. Your guess was confirmed when you heard Karga’s voice welcoming everyone to the gala.
“Good evening,” he began, and you could picture the wide smile on his face. “Thank you for celebrating our 5th anniversary with us. We are so pleased to have you here.” The crowd applauded, and Karga chuckled. “Yes, thank you. We have a wonderful program planned for you tonight, with pieces that feature the best of what our amazing dancers can do. All of our choreographers – Vince, Talia, Jee, and our visiting choreographer in residence, Kuiil – have prepared new, never before seen pieces for you just for this gala.” The audience applauded again. “We are so grateful for your patronage, and we hope you enjoyed this season. Please, sit back and enjoy the visual feast we have prepared – and don’t forget about the free refreshments during intermission!" That got a light chuckle from the audience. “Thank you.”
The crowd applauded once more, and you assumed Karga was walking off stage. You heard the curtains open and nudged Din. You tilted your head towards the wings, silently asking if he wanted to go watch the quartet. He shook his head and motioned for you to stand with him. He leaned in and murmured, “I’d rather warm up a bit more with you.”
You’d seen the quartet in dress rehearsal, and it really was beautiful. It was funny to think that it had been your original role in this program. You nodded and joined him in some light jumps and lunges, and then spent a few minutes warming up your ankles.
You heard the quartet’s music begin to build towards its crescendo. Before you could turn to head backstage, Din grabbed your arm and reeled you in. He placed his hands at your waist and you let yours rest lightly on his forearms again. He leaned in and rested his forehead lightly against yours. 
“You’re going to blow them away,” he murmured, and you felt that familiar feeling that he inspired start to well up in you. “Ready?”
You nodded. “You too, Din. Show them who you are.”
He pulled back and smiled at you. As you turned, you slid your hand down his arm and tangled your hands together. You walked backstage hand-in-hand.
The quartet was just finishing up when you found a place to stand together, out of the way of their exit. You caught Phil’s eye where he stood with his headset on by the tiny backstage lamp, and he nodded at you. You tugged on Din’s hand. “Here we go.”
He nodded at you and released your hand. You would go out first on your own, and then Din, and then you would be on stage together. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Just before you stepped forward, you heard Din murmur, “beautiful.”
You stepped into the wings with a smile playing around your mouth. And then the music started, and all you thought about was the dance.
You’d never felt like this before. You’d never danced like this before. 
From the moment you stepped onto the stage, you could feel it – you were going to nail it. And you did.
You whirled through your solo, and leapt off the stage just in time for Din to enter after you. You watched him and you could see it – he felt it, too. You grinned, and then forced it off your face. He was a stranger, and you were meeting for the first time.
You spun back onto the stage at your cue and you felt his eyes trace across your shoulders like a caress. The two of you danced past each other, circled each other, glanced off of each other, just barely not touching. The connection between you pulled taut and you swore you could see where he was on stage even when you weren’t looking at him.
It would have stolen your breath away, if you had let it – you’d never felt so in sync with another dancer before. 
The first movement ended with the two of you touching, briefly, and then dancing away from each other. As you were about to exit into the wings, you looked back, and caught him already looking at you. You both froze, and then darted off stage.
The audience burst into applause. You grinned at the dancers waiting backstage for Talia’s ballet, and they met you with silent cheers and pats on the shoulder as you passed. 
You headed straight for the door to the backstage area, looking for Din.
He must have had the same idea, because as you turned into the hall that ran behind the stage, you found him almost jogging towards you, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him.
“You and me,” he said, breathlessly, and you nodded.
You had to wait through two longer pieces for the second movement, which would be between Talia and Vince’s collaboration piece and Jee’s. Wary of getting too cold, you returned to Din’s small dressing room, grabbing your sweats on the way. You didn’t want to break the bubble you could feel forming around the two of you.
Din pulled you into the room behind him and then into a loose hug. “I want to hold you tighter,” he murmured, “but this paint.” 
You laughed. “It’s probably for the best.” He hummed. “Ok. We can rest for a minute, and then we need to get ready for the second. And go stay warm.” He nodded. 
“You were beautiful.” His voice sounded deeper than normal and you shivered in his arms. 
“So were you, Din.”
There was a barre set up backstage for warming up, and the two of you stayed there as you waited. You watched as the dancers heading backstage moved around you for Talia’s piece and then Talia and Vince’s collaboration, but you and Din stayed in your own little world. That wasn’t unusual, for a piece like yours. You practiced a couple of lifts just to have something to do.
You were ready.
With only a few minutes to go, Din leaned into you again. “Ready?” 
You nodded. He grabbed your hand, this time, and led you backstage.
The piece Talia and Vince had collaborated on was almost over – it had three couples, a mix of principals and soloists, and you let yourself watch them for a few moments. When it was almost time, Din tugged you in again, foreheads together. 
“Let’s blow them away,” you said, stealing his words from earlier. He smiled.
For the second movement, you started on stage, so you stepped away from Din to go take your place when the lights went down. Alone on stage, in the dark, you took a deep breath. As the music started, you stretched into position, and sank into your character. 
You felt Din’s presence when he leapt on stage, and from there, the chase was on. 
In the second movement, you circled each other, sometimes coming closer, sometimes moving farther away. Glancing touches brought you together and then hesitation drove you apart. You wanted to know each other, to understand each other, but you had to find a way to communicate. To make yourselves understood.
You began to mirror each other’s movements, to adopt each other’s styles. You found common ground between you to build on and with the first lift so firmly grounded, it felt like you flew into the air. Din held you aloft and then flipped you downwards, catching you in another hold. You spun away and felt him follow you, and the connection between you strengthened.
Just like the first movement, you could barely think, could only feel – and it felt amazing. You knew, distantly, that you and Din were performing at a level neither of you had managed alone. You had created something new, something that could only exist because you made it together.
The second ended with you and Din briefly together, and then your character shied away – you ran from him, twirling off stage without looking back. He reached for you just before the lights went down.
The audience erupted. You were grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Adrian was backstage, ready for Jee’s piece, and he looked like he wanted to run over and hug you. But just then Din came through the wings behind you and you felt his arms circle your waist. 
He didn’t pull you too close (the paint) but he leaned forward to breathe into your ear, “so fucking beautiful.”
You shivered, and Adrian winked at you. You laughed and tugged Din behind you into the hall.
You didn’t have as long of a break this time, only the length of Jee’s piece, which was only about 25 minutes. You knew you didn’t really have time to go far.
As you entered the hall, Din grabbed your hand, and made a sharp right. Just around the corner out of sight he backed you against the wall. 
He leaned on the wall with his forearm by your head. For a moment neither of you said anything – you were both breathing hard, chests almost touching every time you took a breath. His eyes caught yours and you couldn’t look away.
“I’ve never…” he trailed off, and you nodded. You understood. 
“Me neither,” you breathed, and his eyes darted down to look at your lips. The feeling that had built inside of you during the performance turned into fire.
“Din–” you started, but he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He pulled away almost as quickly.
“I know,” he said, “I know.” He leaned back, and looked at you again. “I never dreamed it could be like this. I think I was meant to dance with you.”
You were glad you were already leaning against the wall, because your knees threatened to give out at his words. “Me too,” you said. His hand came up to cup your cheek lightly, careful of your makeup. 
“Come on,” he said, “let’s get ready for the third.”
You nodded and let him lead you back down the hall.
You thought you’d be nervous, as you stood in the wings before the third movement. You’d gone backstage a little bit earlier than before to watch Adrian, but it wasn’t distracting you. 
But that might have had something to do with Din’s presence at your back and his hand tangled with yours.
You breathed together as you watched and sank back into your characters. In the third, you were almost always touching – almost always chasing or being chased, grabbing or holding on. The movements revolved around your need to be together and create something new together.
As Jee’s piece came to a close, you felt Din step closer. He kept hold of your hand but wrapped his other arm around your shoulders from the back. “One more,” he murmured in your ear. “Let’s show them who we are.” You smiled and nodded. He squeezed your hand.
In the third, you started off stage. In the wings you both took a deep breath, and then the music started. You darted on quickly with Din at your heels, and from there you were off.
He chased you across the stage, and you let him catch you on the other side. You twirled around each other, leaping together, pulling each other along. He supported you through turns and lifts and jumps and you let yourself sink into the music. You internally marveled at how you seemed to be two dancers with one brain – you would reach for him, and he would be there, every time.
When you reached the pique turn, a smile played around your mouth. Din tugged you backwards by your ankle, capturing you and lifting you into a spin. Your body moved through the familiar steps, and when it came time to launch yourself through the air so he could catch you, you fought a grin off your face.
He lifted you over his shoulder, and let yourself appreciate, just for a moment, the strength of the muscles in his back.
Din tilted you back up and let you slide down against his chest. You sank into it with ease, and the two of you let the moment linger. You met his gaze and saw the smile dancing behind his eyes.
From there the choreography built to a crescendo that had you breathing hard, coordinating your movements perfectly to stay in contact – your hand on his leg, his arm around his waist, your arm around his neck, his shoulders supporting you. It pushed you upward and forward until, suddenly, you stopped, facing each other. You breathed as the last note held, staring into each other’s eyes, and then slowly folded into an embrace that took you both to your knees. 
The lights went out, and for a moment you couldn’t make sense of the sound that washed over you. You looked up at Din, and then out to the audience. It seemed like everyone in the theater had taken to their feet, cheering and applauding.
The rest of the company was backstage cheering, too.
Din leaned backwards and stood, offering his hand to pull you up, too. You took it, and he tugged you forward so that you had to lean into him just a bit. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then the lights came up.
You both turned to the audience, bodies moving into the familiar stance, ready to take your bows. But you were both taken aback when somehow the applause got louder.
You glanced at Din, but he swept you forward, and before you could stop him, presented you to the audience. 
You smiled, and when it was his turn, did the same for him.
As soon as you were done, the rest of the company poured out of the wings to join you on stage, and the standing ovation seemed to go on forever. Adrian popped out of the crowd at your side and wrapped you both up in a hug, which startled Din and made you laugh. “That was fucking amazing!” he shouted in your ear, and you laughed. Din started to smile, too, and you squeezed his hand, still tangled with yours between you.
You looked at him as the company moved to take a final bow together, and for a moment, you couldn’t hear the noise around you at all.
You could only see Din, smiling at you, so widely his eyes crinkled. 
Beautiful.
...
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a/n: they did it!! I'm so proud of them!!! next week... what happens after the gala? 😏 we finally earn those smut tags, lol. I don't really have any notes this week, but let me know if you have any questions! 🧡 and don't forget to check out the art!!
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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 days ago
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Meeting at the snack machine
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Simon Kalivoda x fem!reader (nurse)
warning : fluff, kiss, mutual feelings, implied past relationship
Summary : What was for them a normal night shift at the Shadyville hospital was for Simon and his friends a nightmare that had just begun. A nightmare that seemed to have arisen from the town's past and that, by pure chance, brought Simon to a person he hadn't seen in a long time, but the shared memory was all the stronger.
info : I knew I had to write for Fred again and the stories for Simon are far from over. I wish you lots of fun ;)
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The evening began as usual with her alarm clock which seemed too shrill and too loud, a yawn and a tired look later she was standing in the bathroom under the shower trying to keep her eyes open.
A quick breakfast in the evening and less than two hours later she was in her blue uniform in the nurse's room, stowing her things in her locker before setting off for her shift.
It was the same every day, every week and every month, getting up, eating breakfast and trying not to fall asleep on the way to the hospital before she started her shift, taking turns with her tired colleagues who were glad to get home.
,,Have a good shift!” she heard the goodbyes of her colleagues before she took the clipboards and went through the individual complaints and requests of the patients.
Whether it was refilling water, emptying a bag or washing hair after there was food inside, there was always variety and even though she had vowed to get out of the city, this feeling of helping and doing something good for others was somehow addictive, especially here.
Addiction was a word that meant a lot in her job and her freedom, gone were the weekends and weeks when she had gotten a little too drunk, taken a few pills and worried about nothing in the world.
Now here the only dependency was the money she got from this job, ,,And only for another forty years,” she muttered as she stepped out of the hallway and decided to just check the medicine cabinet.
Although her tiredness was gone, the toast with jam and the few pieces of fruit made themselves heard a few hours into her shift, a growl that was audible to others but was unmistakable to her.
Especially in Shadyside the later it seemed to get the less interesting the town seemed to become, especially from the other side you could hear the partying and the loud music of festivals something the inhabitants here could only dream of.
Festivals and concerts here in the city would probably lead to a fire and a storm, which is why people were rather glad that everything was quiet and still and that there were no accidents and murders, which were not only bad enough but also turned the otherwise uneventful hospital into a crowd of onlookers.
Sighing to herself, she just said, ,,Maybe there's a banana in the hall” and decided to go to the front of the floor where the reception area was located and she found one of her colleagues and coworkers looking just as bored and tired as she was.
The night shift was the shift where no one called in despite the little extra pay, it was like being a ghost in Shadyside it was so dead quiet.
The morning and midday shifts were busier, more people came in and there was even a sense of hope, which was helped by seeing the sun instead of the moon whenever you looked outside.
The same brief smile was exchanged between them and a ,,Thank you lifesaver” came from her as she was handed the yellow fruit and opened it, so it seemed like it was going to be another uneventful shift...what she didn't know though was as she disappeared back to her floor, footsteps and more importantly screams approached the hospital.
A small group in the middle of which was someone who had the same hunger as her and whose circumstances were slightly different from hers, but both would meet again sooner than they thought.
The papers and folders had priority but when the phone rang at her station she picked it up, ,,Emergency room on the line, what's up?” she asked and heard her colleague on the other end, ,,A couple of kids just showed up, could you pick up some bandages but could also be a Halloween prank” and hung up again.
A sigh came over her lips as she walked a step faster and rummaged through the cupboards and drawers for the utensils, there had been many times in the last few years and especially weeks and months since the incident in the mall the teenagers seemed to be particularly amused and play such false alarms.
If not she could at least do her job and get some variety, mostly it was just small cuts from broken bottles anyway, rarely anything bigger.
With the bandages and the necessary extra to make her way to the lobby, she didn't see the gang tampering with something down the hall, ,,I hope you're not taking the piss, do you need anything else?” she said to the group, spotting a few familiar faces from parties and especially fights with the sunny, happy bastards.
But the nervousness and the blood, which looked a little too dark to be artificial, made her a little uneasy - what had happened?
She was just about to exchange a few words with Kate when Deena asked her for some tape to fix the whole thing, which she acknowledged with a ,,Sure, wait a minute” and headed back to her room where more equipment was stored.
But first of all, she passed a certain snack machine where she saw someone who made her pause, ,,Simon? What on earth are you doing here?” she asked even though it was obvious and the blonde looked up from the vending machine.
A familiar broad smile appeared on his face and he leaned against the machine, ,,My nurse, it's been a long time,” he said, yet he seemed happy to see his former companion and perhaps more since she had left school early to start here at the hospital.
A chain of unfavorable events, as they often were in Shadyside, had brought them apart and also brought them together again, ,,Still the broadly grinning, troublemaking Simon,” she replied, not quite knowing whether she should shake his hand, wave, talk or embrace, a decision he took from her and she got into a brief, intimate embrace.
Hands clasped briefly and yet not unfamiliar, a verne memory something that made her heart beat, ,,You know me, Doc,” he winked and she rolled her eyes at the nickname they had really thought she was going to be a doctor and now she was a nurse almost the same.
He hadn't changed in the past month still had the slightly curly hair, a hopeful slightly silly smile and a cute demeanor, ,,Are you assigned to pick up snacks?” she asked, pointing to the glowing vending machine from which he leaned away and pointed to some of the merchandise.
Apparently Simon and his friends had had more than one successful night with the odd creepy incident, ,,I'd love to but no change” he replied and she pushed him aside only slightly not seeing him look away embarrassed as her hand settled on his chest.
How gentle and yet guiding she was, something that had been reflected not only in the bedroom but also in the consumption of pills.
A consumption that had often led them both to each other, from taking them together, smoking, drinking and perhaps the first kiss and more.
With a few deft grabs and a final tap on the drink symbol, the machine gave a rustle and jerk before all the snacks fell down one by one, ,,Who needs change when you've got me?” she replied, pressing the snack bags into his hands, hands resting on top of each other for perhaps a moment longer than necessary.
Maybe she should have walked away, let Simon and the past they had experienced together be a thing of the past and maybe she shouldn't have looked into those blue, engaging blue eyes.
,,Does this work?” Simon's question took her out and she followed his gaze to her chest where the stethoscope lay in her hand, ,,Sure here" she replied and held it out to him, at first he seemed to want to give it back to her but when he realized what he could do with it he took it.
Putting the earpiece of the stethoscope in her ear, she moved a little closer to him, ,,Don't be frightened, my patient,” he grinned and pressed the surface of her breast lightly, wishing her body wouldn't betray her, her heart seemed to jump out of her chest as much as his.
It was like when they used to lie on the couch, cuddling and foggy-headed from a little too much grass, hearts united and just enjoying each other's company. ,,I-I think you're fine,” he stammered, handing her back the stethoscope, which she put back on and silence fell between them.
Their eyes met again and again, hands brushed past each other and only when they heard the shouts and voices of the others did they both flinch, ,,I think we should go back,” she cleared her throat and pointed into the corridor when she suddenly felt his hand on hers.
Turning around, she felt his lips on hers the next moment, finally feeling the kiss again that she had hoped for so long, ,,I still had to thank my nurse,” he had found his mood again and with a wink pulled her after him to the others...maybe they should meet at the snack machine more often than just every few months.
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@tori111777 , @simonsrealwife , @bel0ved-heretic , @amecchii , @xxxibgdrgons , @lordbelzeebub , @cowgyaru
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kabr0ztrousers · 2 days ago
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Kabr0z Writes Episode 7: The Rowing Team
Find the Contents page Here
CWs: noncon; intox; alcohol intox; substance intox; group sex; impregnation; foreshadowing; fem!reader having a very bad time
Author's note: The poll in the last episode has about a half hour left on it as I start this, and so far all votes are for "No limits, make it uncomfortable" So we're doing a noncon scenario today. You filthy, filthy animals, I love you all ��
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You might have pregamed a little hard. By the time you got to the party you could already feel yourself swaying a little. You shook yourself and went inside. What was freshers week for but drinking irresponsible amounts of alcohol and going to flat parties, after all? You're still not used to this though, you only turned 18 in the last week of August, and still haven't had chance to build up the tolerance to alcohol some of your peers were sporting as they swigged from bottles of cheap vodka, gin, and rum.
You made your way through the throng of people and into the lounge, the larger of the 2 common rooms in the flat. That's when you saw him, wearing a jacket sporting the rowing team logo. He was a catfolk, tall and limber, he didn't seem to be bulky enough to be a rower, maybe he was the Cox?
He saw you, and locked eyes across the room. His gaze dazzled you, a deer in his headlamps, transfixed. He strode over, prowling through the crowd that parted before him
"Hey, I'm Miles" He thrust a cup into your hand "What can I call you?"
You told him your name, and took a sip. It was a kind of beer, slightly bitter and fizzy on your tongue.
"Cute name!" You could see his sharp teeth as he laughed.
He was magnetic. Tall, slim, not to mention charming. It felt like you'd only just finished your drink before he grabbed you another, some sort of cocktail this time.
He pulled out a baggie containing several brightly coloured lozenges "Something to take the edge off, you want one?"
You shook your head, noticeably swaying as more of the beer reached your head.
Miles shrugged and put one in his mouth, washing it down with the dregs of his drink and got up, grabbing your hand as he did "Come on, let me introduce you to the team"
You felt light and heavy, all at once. Your head swam as you got up and you hung on to Miles' arm as he led you upstairs to another flat, out of the pounding music and commotion of the party.
Every step you took, you could feel yourself getting heavier, your limbs getting clumsier. You were stumbling, but he kept a hand on your back as he led you. In the half-light up here you could only make out his eyes against his brownish tabby fur, narrowed slits of reflected light
He opened his flat door and pushed you inside ahead of him, then brought you through to the lounge. A group of four over large, predatory males lounged around on the threadbare sofas. They turned to look at the fresh meat their friend had brought them.
"Miles, you came through!" A big grey wolf barked out
"She even legal?" Another wolf, this one mottled brown
Miles threw your drivers license at them in response, did you give him that?
A tiger catfolk caught it, inspecting it in the fluorescent light and laughed "Ha! Barely! But when have you cared about legal, Lance?"
The mottled wolf laughed "She sure looks like you worked your magic on her, cap"
Miles pushed you. You stumbled a step before your legs gave out and you fell bodily onto a table in front of you "Bitch didn't think to question why she was getting so many free drinks from the nice pussycat" he spat "Now we get to clear her tab"
The one that hadn't spoken yet, a powerfully built lizardman looked into your eyes "What you dose her with?"
"The usual" you could hear Miles doing something behind you, you tried to look but you couldn't turn your head "A little of this, a little of that"
Laughs all round. You tried to speak, to ask what's happening. You yelled. You screamed. All that came out were soft moans.
"Looks ready to me" the lizard's long forked tongue darted out, and he stood up. He started to undress. You realised what Miles and the others were doing.
The lizard pulled off his sweatpants and revealed his genital slit. You could feel the rest of them manhandling you, pulling off your jeans and underwear, tearing open your shirt and opening your bra before on Miles' count you were flipped over on the table.
Paralysed.
Exposed.
You could feel your limbs lying uselessly off the table as you saw it in front of you, the lizard's hemipene rising from the slot between his loins, long and thick, clubbed at the end.
A scaled hand squeezed your jaw, forcing your mouth open as the others watched. The lizard pushed the obscene shape past your lips, then teeth, until it was resting in your mouth.
He straightened up your head, lining you up. "Let the game..." He thrust, pushing straight past the back of your throat. "Begin!"
All at once five sets of hands were on you, accompanied by mouths and animalistic cocks. Rubbing at every part of you. Licking your pussy. Groping your tits. Toying with your asshole. Spurting hot jets of precum onto your naked skin.
The lizard kept fucking your throat pulling out occasionally so you could take a gasp of air. You could feel your pussy getting hotter and wetter despite you, preparing itself.
The lizard pulled out. The grey wolf took his place. The lizard started working on you as the rest had, and everyone moved over a step, except Miles.
Miles was busy with your pussy, licking his rough feline tongue over the whole of it, taking special care around the clit and keeping you just on the edge of orgasm.
Then he pulled away. You felt soft fur between your thighs, but no whiskers now.
Then a pressure. "Seems like she's ready boys, I'll take first go, seeing as she's my catch"
Miles pushed himself inside you. You couldn't scream. With the huge canine cock in your mouth you could barely breathe around the thick shaft and the precum oozing out from your lips and down your throat.
You could feel why some people liked felines, and why most didn't. His entire shaft was patterned with sharp points that scraped inside you as he fucked in and out. Every point hurt. Every one drove you closer and closer to the edge.
Then it happened. You could feel yourself start to pulse against his shaft. Squeezing it. Clenching around it. Miles' thrusts got faster. More desperate. He pushed in. You could feel his balls tighten against your asscheecks. His tip was nudging your cervix, pumping rope after rope into your womb.
A chill went down your spine. You're not sure why
Then they changed position.
Miles and Lance lifted you upright and held you over the table as the lizard and the wolf that was in your mouth got below you. They lined their cocks up against your asshole and your cunt as you were lowered onto them. You could feel the bulbous lizard-dick stretching your ass as the blunt wolf cock invaded your pussy.
The lizard grabbed you around your waist and pulled you on top of him "Erik's gonna fuck you silly, and I've got dibs on your sweet ass" he hissed into your ear.
You could barely hear him. Your head lolled madly and your arms flailed with the power of the wolf's thrusts. The tiger grabbed each side of your head and started using your mouth as Miles and Lance suckled on each of your tits.
The wolf cock was smoother, but bigger. Stretching rather than scratching. Milo's cum was mixing with Erik's pre and filling the room with a slapping sound as it lubricated you. The feeling of two cocks in you was too much. You could feel them rubbing against one another, frotting inside you like you were nothing more than a toy.
Because that's what you were. A toy.
Erik grunted as you crested your second orgasm and pushed in harder. His thick knot slapped against your hole again and again until it jammed in. His cock was held against the neck of your womb, filling you more and more.
What are you forgetting?
Erik worked his knot free. You would've cried out but you still couldn't make a sound other than lewd moaning, and the slap, slap, slapping of the tiger's balls against your chin.
The tiger's turn next, and Miles' cock entered your mouth, still sticky with both of your cum.
The tiger's cock went in easily, Erik's knot had left you gaping when he pulled it unceremoniously out, but it was the worst of both. It felt as thick as your arm, and the barbs were bigger on it. You moaned on each pull, as the thorns caught your labia and he quickly rubbed your clit with a thumb. He looked up at Milo and nodded, before they both pushed into you. You felt the sharp spines of Miles' cock at the back of your throat and tasted blood and cum as he pumped a load down your abused gullet. The tiger grunted and groaned as he too filled you up.
Something scared you more than the predators using your body
You could feel a mixture of cum running down your ass, lubricating the lizard who somehow still hadn't finished in you.
Then it was Lance's turn. He pushed his cock into your face first. Making sure you could smell the musk from his sheath and his balls. You could feel the heat of it as it painted your face in precum. Then he went for it. He didn't pause like the others. He just pumped into you. Faster and faster. You could feel yourself trying to twitch and shake but it never did. Your mouth now full of Erik again, fucking down into your coated throat and filling your belly with precum.
Lance didn't last long. The lubricant from his friends. The pulsing and clenching of your pussy. He pushed his knot in. It felt even bigger than Erik's.
He was filling you up again. You could feel the lizard finally doing the same to your behind. This time the wolf wasn't in any hurry to pull out.
You've forgotten something important
Lance kept his knot in you for at least the next half hour. Every time it felt like it was going down one of his friends would cum down your throat, on your face, on your tits, and he'd harden back up.
Eventually they got worn out, or bored of their new toy. Lance slipped out and a great gout of thick cum went with him. They dressed you in some pyjamas and took you down into the dead of the cold autumn night.
That was six weeks ago.
You're doing well at your studies. Keeping up well with the class, though first year's always the easiest they say. You're waiting in the pharmacy, you're not the most regular person in the world, and you're in a 2-month dry spell, but it never hurts.
You leave with a small box
Later that afternoon, you're sat on the toilet in your room, watching the slip of plastic you just peed on. The other one discarded at your feet. It must have been a false positive, they happen, right?
Right?
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notiddygothgf · 2 days ago
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18. Stained Sheets
★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader
★ ❝ What would you do if things were different?❞
★ c.w.: LITERALLY pure lovemaking, fluff, talks of the future, a certain position that is the sum of 34 and 35. totally unrevised.
★ a/n: HI MY MUNCHKINS!! as promised, here is the second chapter. I promise, you'll love it (I wrung my brain dry writing this, i love aki sm). Not gonna say too much, but more at the end of the chapter!!!! Keep those comments coming and I'll keep the content coming (lord knows I'll have plenty of time to write it on vacay. typing this on a beach rn btw, its 90 degrees here and 20 degrees back at home).
★ w.c: .7.5k
shameless ; chapter index
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YOU AND AKI flopped onto the cushiony surface of his mattress, the analog clock on his nightstand glowing softly in the dim room: 12:58 AM. The faint hum of the city drifted through the cracked window, accompanied by the occasional whoosh of a passing car. The air in his room was cool and faintly smelled of his cologne, something sharp and clean, mixed with the faintest hint of cigarettes. 
Side by side, you both lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Your limbs were stretched out like a starfish, while Aki had one arm draped lazily over his stomach, the other tucked under his head. You huffed out a laugh, breaking the silence, your voice low to match the quiet of the room.
"This week as been... a lot," you muttered, rubbing your hands over your face before letting them flop back onto the bed. 
Aki groaned softly in agreement. "Yeah. Feels good to be back in a real bed." 
"Did you pick up those meds the doctor prescribed?" You turned your head to glance at him, raising a brow. 
He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Does nicotine count?" 
You groaned dramatically, propping yourself up on one elbow. "You're gonna be so cranky tomorrow when your back hurts, grandpa." 
"I'm not cranky," he argued, side-eyeing you with a faint smirk. 
"Right, you're a fuckin' ray of sunshine," you teased, poking his arm. "The poster child for positivity." 
He chuckled, low and soft, the sound warming the small space between you. "That's rich." 
You gasped, feigning offense. "What do you mean?" 
Aki turned his head fully toward you, his dark hair falling slightly into his face. "You're pissy as hell, like, half of the time." 
"Oh, right, because you're so congenial," you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. "You love my attitude." 
"I do," he said easily, his smirk softening into something almost fond. 
You couldn't help but grin back at him, the playful banter easing the exhaustion that had settled into your bones. There was something about these moments with Aki—small, quiet, and unhurried—that felt like a balm, soothing the edges of a hectic day. 
The silence stretched for a beat, comfortable and heavy with the kind of familiarity that didn't need filling. You stared at the ceiling again, your thoughts wandering. "Hey," you said after a while, your voice quieter now. "Do you ever think about stuff like... I don't know, what would you be doing if things were different?" 
Aki shifted slightly beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Different... how?" 
"Like... no Devils. No Public Safety. Just... normal life stuff." 
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point on the ceiling. "I guess I don't let myself think about it much," he admitted. "It feels... pointless, you know?" 
"Yeah," you murmured, though your chest tightened a little at his words. "But still. If you could imagine it, what do you think you'd be doing?" 
Aki let out a soft breath, almost a sigh. "Maybe something boring. A desk job, maybe. Nine to five, go home, cook dinner, watch TV. Something simple." 
"You? At a desk job?" you said with a laugh. "I can't see it. You'd lose your mind." 
He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Probably." 
"What about something cooler, like... I don't know, quitting Public Safety and owning a little coffee shop? You could wear one of those cute aprons and everything." 
Aki turned his head to look at you, his brow arching in mild amusement. "A coffee shop?" 
"Yeah. You'd totally pull it off. You've got the broody, mysterious vibe down already. Plus, imagine all the tips you'd get from customers swooning over you." 
His cheeks tinted the faintest pink, and he scoffed, looking away. "You're ridiculous." 
"I'm being objective, here," you teased, poking his side again. 
He caught your hand this time, his fingers curling gently around your wrist. The sudden contact made your breath hitch for just a second, but you masked it with a grin. "Okay, your turn," he said, his tone shifting as he tried to regain control of the conversation. 
"My turn?" 
"Yeah. What would you do if things were different?" 
You considered for a moment, chewing on your lip. "I'd travel, I think. See the world, eat all the food, meet all kinds of people. Just... live, you know?" 
"Sounds nice," he said softly, his thumb unconsciously brushing against your wrist before he let go. 
The room fell into another comfortable silence, but this time, the air felt heavier, charged with something you couldn't quite name. You turned your head again, catching the way Aki's eyes lingered on you before quickly darting away. 
"What?" you asked, tilting your head. 
"Nothing," he said too quickly, his voice tight. 
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. "It's not nothing. Spill." 
He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if debating whether to speak. Finally, he sighed, turning fully onto his side to face you. "I was just thinking..." 
"Thinking what?" you prompted, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. 
"You look good in my clothes," He looked at you for a moment, his dark eyes searching yours, and then, almost shyly, a small smirk tugged at his lips. "I could get used to the sight of you like this."
The statement caught you off guard, your eyes widening slightly before you barked out a laugh. "What?" 
"I'm serious," he said, the smirk growing. "I could." 
You squinted at him, trying to gauge whether he was teasing or not. "Are you trying to make me do your laundry? Because that's not happening." 
He shook his head, his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up again. "No. I just think it'd suit you. Can't imagine that a woman who can barely cook for herself would be a good homemaker, anyway." 
There was something in the way he said it—low, deliberate—that made your cheeks heat. "Oh, yeah?" you said, trying to play it cool. "What's the appeal? Oversized shirt, messy hair, looking like I just rolled out of bed?" 
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart race. "Exactly." 
The air between you seemed to shift, the teasing suddenly laced with something more. You raised a brow, determined not to let him fluster you. "You've got a real thing for this, huh?" 
"Maybe," he admitted, his smirk softening into something warmer. "Or maybe you'd look better without them – my clothes." 
Your breath caught, your brain short-circuiting for half a second. "Aki," you gasped, smacking his shoulder. 
He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and you couldn't help but join him. It was absurd, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your heart feel too big for your chest. 
The laughter faded, leaving behind a soft, lingering silence. Aki reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your cheek before settling there. His thumb traced a faint line along your skin, and before you knew it, he was leaning in. 
The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then you melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. 
The laughter faded slowly, leaving behind a quiet that felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Aki's hand lingered near your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine. His dark eyes searched yours, flicking down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again. It was hesitant, almost as if he was waiting for permission, or perhaps the courage, to take the leap.
When he leaned in, it was slow—agonizingly slow. You could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, and your own breath hitched, caught in your throat. Your heart raced in your chest, pounding so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Then, finally, his lips met yours.
It started soft, barely there, like he was testing the waters. His lips were warm and a little chapped, and he kissed you with a careful kind of tenderness, as if you might break if he pressed too hard. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, narrowing until the only thing that existed was Aki—his hand on your cheek, the subtle press of his lips against yours, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around you.
As the kiss deepened, the hesitance melted away. Aki's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, his touch grounding and electrifying all at once. You felt yourself leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then tangling in his hair. It was soft and slightly messy between your fingers, and you found yourself smiling into the kiss, overwhelmed by the realization of how much you'd wanted this.
Aki tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further, and a quiet, almost inaudible sound escaped him—a soft sigh that sent warmth coursing through your entire body. His lips moved against yours with a newfound confidence, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. The kiss wasn't hurried or desperate; it was something else entirely. It was an exploration, a quiet confession, a promise.
You broke away for the briefest moment, gasping for air, but Aki didn't let you go far. His forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy and uneven, mingling with your own in the small space between you. His thumb brushed along your jawline, a gesture so gentle it made your chest ache (and your stomach feel warm).
You opened your eyes, meeting his. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and his usually guarded expression was wide open, unfiltered. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, and it made your heart stutter.
Then, without saying a word, he kissed you again, softer this time, almost reverent. It was slower, more deliberate, like he was trying to commit the feel of you to memory. Your hands slid down to his chest, resting there as you kissed him back, matching his rhythm. Each touch, each movement felt like a silent conversation, one that didn't need words.
When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your faces still impossibly close. A laugh bubbled up from your chest, light and giddy, and Aki's lips quirked into a small smile.
"Wait," you murmured, your voice breathy but tinged with excitement.
Aki blinked, his brows furrowing slightly as he tried to steady his breathing. "What?" he asked, his voice soft, like he was reluctant to break the moment.
You grinned, already sitting up. "I have an idea."
Aki groaned, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Why do I feel like this is going to end with me regretting it?" 
You shot him a mischievous look over your shoulder as you headed for his closet. "Oh, ye of little faith. Trust me."
Aki's closet was so... him. It was a sea of neatly-pressed sweaters, tees, and shirts – black, white, grey, navy blue, for the most part, with only a few exceptions. You reached for the tie he had hung up there only a few hours earlier, wrapping it around your knuckle.
"What are you doing in there?" He inquired.
With a grin, you hid the wound-up tie behind your back, sauntering back out into the master bedroom. 
He looked at you how a mother looked at her child's mud pie – with his brows knitted and the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. Slowly, he asked, "What's that?"
You stepped towards the bed, crawling towards him until you were straddling his narrow waist. He peered up at you through those confused blue eyes of his, but humored you nevertheless. Rather than glorifying him with an answer, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. Then another. By the third, he was reaching for you, and you were prying his hands off of you to pin them to the pillow atop his head.
His eyes widened, glinting with mischief, "Where are you going with this?"
"So many questions," You shushed him. Taking the balled up tie into your hand, you wound it around the headboard of Aki's bed, bringing it back down to wrap around his wrists before finishing it off with a knot. Aki, shockingly enough, allowed you without a word of protest.
He looked pretty all of the time – just to be clear – but you couldn't help but think that he looked prettiest when he was underneath you, hair splayed out over the pillow, face dusted with a pretty shade of pink, eyes half lidded as he awaited your next move.
You leaned down, capturing his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, lingering just long enough to leave him chasing after you when you pulled back. His breath hitched, and his chest rose beneath you as he tilted his head up, silently asking for more.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you ?" you teased, brushing your thumb over the delicate curve of his cheek.
"Maybe," he murmured, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. His voice was soft, tinged with a slight tremor that betrayed the calm he was trying to project.
You rocked your hips against him, slow and deliberate, eliciting a soft whine from his lips. The sound sent a shiver through you, and you couldn't resist the urge to do it again, drawing out another gasp as his body tensed beneath you.
"A little excited, are we?" you murmured, lips brushing against his ear.
His cheeks flushed deeper, but he didn't look away. Instead, his half-lidded eyes locked onto yours, brimming with a mix of embarrassment and undeniable want. He was harder than a boulder beneath your hips already, and you hadn't done much. He tugged lightly against the tie securing his wrists, testing the knot, but you pressed your palms to his chest, holding him still. 
"I didn't say you could move," you whispered, and he let out a shaky exhale, sinking back into the pillows.
When you leaned down to kiss him again, he met you halfway, lips parting eagerly against yours. His breath came faster now, and his head tilted to follow your movement, as if desperate to close every fraction of distance. The soft, needy sounds he made as you rocked against him grew louder, sending a heat rushing through you.
"Patience, Aki," you murmured against his lips, though your resolve was starting to waver. His body beneath yours was intoxicating, the way he moved, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he needed in the world.
"I don't think I have much of that left," he admitted, his voice breaking on a quiet moan as you shifted your weight just right.
You decided to test that theory, dragging your hips back and forth and back again until the two of you were panting like horny teens. 
"I want you," He breathed, "I need you."
"Where do you need me?" You asked. Licking his neck, you teased, "Here?" A little lower, near his collarbone, "Here?" Another kiss to his stomach as you continued crawling down, "Here?" And one more just atop the tent in his pants, "...Here?"
He arched up, tented fabric brushing against your cheek so deliciously. "Please, I can't– I..." He sighed, chest rising and falling rapidly. 
You pressed another kiss to his clothed cock, which jumped up playfully, tapping your lips like it had a mind of its own. Peering up at him through faux-innocent eyes, you purred, "What? Use your words."
He swallowed, "If you keep teasing me like that," He choked out a laugh while you mouthed at his dick through his pants. "I'm gonna...cream my pants like a fuckin' middle schooler."
"Would that be so bad?" You teased. (And, truthfully, you would be lying if you said you didn't want to see that just a little bit – the picture of his body arching up, eyes rolling back as he came prematurely with a cry of your name).
"Please," He groaned, and you knew exactly what he wanted.
"How about... right here?" You gripped the waistband of his pants, wiggling them down to his thighs. He was sporting a pair of navy blue boxers today – the cotton kind, fabric strained around his erection, stained darker at the tip by the tiniest little wet mark. Bracing your weight on your hands, you leaned down, placing a long, tender kiss to the spot.
Cute, you thought. 
You wrapped your lips around the head of it, mouthing hungrily at him through the fabric. He opened his legs a little wider to accommodate you. 
"Yes," He panted.
He wants more. You didn't want to keep him waiting. So, teasing your thumb beneath the waistband of his boxers and snapping the elastic against his navel once, you tugged his boxers down, finally freeing him from its confinement. 
And there he was. Long and thick and flushed a pretty shade of pink at the tip, just as you had remembered. You wrapped a tentative hand around it, flitting your tongue over the head to collect the pretty little bead of precum that had bubbled up at the top. Once you were satisfied with that, with the salty taste of him, you gave it another lick.
"Don't be a tease," He warned you, though he was smiling the whole time.
Fine, then. You didn't bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.
Aki exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – it felt like he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and you didn't really think you (or him) would mind testing that theory.
His skin was hot. He burned for you – the same way you burned for him.
You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. You felt him throb in your mouth.
"Fuck, 's good," He whimpered weakly, tugging at his makeshift restraints while you picked up the pace.
Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Until you were gagging on him, eyes watering from the stretch. Until your eyelids were fluttering shut.
He moaned for you – deep and velvety and, suddenly, you couldn't care less about his roommates that may or may not have been within earshot. 
You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that you didn't even mind.
Aki squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip. "Fuck," he panted, "You're– God."
You hovered over him, a mischievous gleam in your eyes as your lips wrapped around him. His body tensed, his muscles clenching instinctively under your touch, and his wrists strained desperately against the tie that kept them secured. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to shift beneath you, but there was no escape. 
You sucked him into your mouth again, this time more deliberately, lingering longer than before – letting him sit in the back of your throat even though you ached with the strain of it. His stomach twitched beneath you, and you could feel the slight hitch in his breath, his chest rising and falling faster. A small whimper escaped him, muffled by his own lips, and it made your smirk grow wider. His laughter was nervous now, caught somewhere between amusement and helplessness, as your sucking grew harder and more insistent, trailing lower with every press of your mouth. 
The hot air on his damp skin heightened the sensation, making him squirm even more. His body was betraying him—each lick, each slurp, teasing touch of your fingers up and down his inner thighs making it harder to hold back the rising wave of pleasure. You could see it in his face—the way his cheeks flushed deeper with each second, the way his breath became shallow, quick. 
You didn't stop. Your lips brushed lower still, moving deliberately across his cock, lingering just enough around the base to hear the soft gasp from his lips, the quiet hitching of his breath every time your nose brushed against his navel. His hips bucked involuntarily against the bed, and the restraint of his wrists only seemed to make his movements more desperate. The feeling of vulnerability that hit him so suddenly was undeniable, and you couldn't help but feel the rush of satisfaction from the effect you had on him. 
Every time your lips met his skin, it was more intense than the last. It was wetter now, a little messier, each movement of your head up and down his shaft seeming to linger just a bit longer, dragging out the sensation of exposure and teasing. You let your tongue flick out, just once, to trace the line of his skin where your lips had been. His body jumped at the contact, and you smiled at the way his muscles clenched in response. 
He was completely at your mercy.. 
His face had turned pink now, the flush spreading across his neck and down his chest. He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle the sounds that threatened to spill from him, but his breath was ragged, his chest heaving beneath you. You could see the embarrassment burning through his attempts to keep himself composed. 
He arched slightly, his back lifting off the bed as he tried to pull away from the sensation, but the restraints held him firmly in place. His throat tightened as he stifled another sound, but it escaped anyway—a soft, almost involuntary moan that only made you want to go harder. You could feel the heat of his skin against your lips, and you took your time, savoring each moment of his helplessness. 
Before you could continue any further, his voice broke through, low and desperate. "Wait–" His wrists tugged once more against the tie, his body still aching from the restraint, his words barely audible. "Wait, I wanna try something different.
Finally, you paused, lifting your head just enough to let your breath linger over the trail you'd left behind. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded in both frustration and something else—something you couldn't quite place, but you saw it in the way his pupils were dilated, the way his body still trembled beneath you. 
You met his gaze, and for a moment, the playful tension in the room seemed to shift. There was a long, drawn-out silence between you, the only sound the echo of his breathing. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes never leaving his, watching the way he struggled to collect himself, his body betraying him every time he moved. 
"My face," After sufficiently collecting his breath, he nodded, motioning for you to climb back up his torso. "Sit on it."
You relented, sitting back on your heels with a look of playful satisfaction. Your eyes never left him as you studied his flushed face, the way his breaths still came in shallow gasps. There was a brief moment where you almost felt bad—almost—but the thrill of seeing him so vulnerable, so exposed, left you feeling more alive than you had in a long time. 
"You want me to..." You swallowed. "On your face?"
"Yeah."
He was quiet for a long moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to steady himself. His face was still flushed that pretty shade of pink, his body still trembling slightly under the aftershocks of the tension. His wrists pulled gently at the tie again, though it wasn't to free himself anymore. It was to center himself, to find the control he had lost in the heat of the moment. 
"What if I crush you?" You asked, hesitant to climb up there. Your ex husband was right about one thing – you had certainly put on a couple of pounds. The last thing you wanted was to break his nose, or something like that. 
"Then I die a happy ma," He shrugged, pupils dilated, "Sit on my face."
You slowly untied the tie that held him, taking your time, watching him intently as you did. The look on his face was a mixture of relief and lingering frustration, and for a moment, you just watched him breathe, the soft sound of his pants filling the space between you. 
"Okay," You sighed. "How do I...? How do we do this?"
"Turn around f'me and back it up," He chuckled. "You can start by taking those pants off."
"You want my ass all up in your face?" You quirked a brow. Still, a little uncertainly, you sat back onto your knees, wiggling your pants down and off of your legs. Then, huffing out a nervous breath, you turned around – straddling his legs, reverse cowgirl in nothing more than your panties. The air felt cold against the wet patch you had made in the fabric.
"You talk a lot, you know that?" He teased. "Come on. Back it up."
With a roll of your eyes, you crawled backwards – back and back, until your hips were hovering over his face, until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your clothed pussy. Until you were eye-to-eye with his cock, still hard and wet from your lips.
"Like this?" You asked. Your legs were shaking already just thinking about how this would go. 
"No," He tutted. "Like this."
His hands snaked up to grip your hips. Then, without a word of warning, he pulled them down until you were flush up against his face. You could feel his lips as they pressed a hot kiss to your pussy through the drenched fabric – his pointed nose as it pressed deep into your cushiony lips.
You felt him hook a finger beneath the crotch of your panties. Then, he pulled them to the side.
"What are you...?" You trailed off. The moment his breath hit your bare skin, you were quiet, shuddering as a wonton gasp left your lips. 
"Such a pretty pussy," He remarked. His tongue flitted out to lick a hot stripe up from your neglected clit to your entrance, and he moaned – fuck – moaned at the taste of you. His grip tightened ever-so-slightly, and then he was diving in, sucking your puffy clit into his mouth.
"Fuck!" You gasped out. This angle was strange, but not at all unwelcome. "Fuck me. Oh God, Aki–"
His roommates. You thought. Surely, any minute now, they would hear the two of you. So, sparing a glance to his twitching cock, you licked your lips and sucked the tip into your mouth. This will keep me quiet.
Keep you quiet it may have done, but him? He was another story. 
The moment the head of his dick was back on your tongue, he was moaning into your slick pussy, pulling you right up against his mouth while he painted circles and shapes with the tip of his tongue all over your needy cunt. It was wet back there – wet enough that your pussy met no friction when you grinded against his face, smearing your juices everywhere.
So fucking hot.
You took him deeper into your mouth, softening up your tongue to allow him more room. Then, you began to deep throat him – take him all the way down to the base.
He responded in kind with a whine, lips wrapped around your clit in a way that had you seeing fucking stars. You rutted your hips back again, desperately seeking more of that searing, white-hot pleasure he was giving you.
He was sucking on you the way you liked – like you were a jawbreaker. Like you were a four-course meal and he was a starving patron.
A few minutes later, and you were getting close already. It was a combined effort from his skilled tongue and the sound of his pretty little moans and whimpers every time you throated him down. You didn't care that your eyes were watering, that your neck and mouth were beginning to ache with the strain. All that mattered was him – the feeling of his big hands gripping your ass in his hands, smacking the skin there every so often until you were gasping (more like gagging) around him.
And, judging by the way he was beginning to squirm, you knew he was close, too. You were determined – determined to make him cum before you did. So, in an effort to finish the job, you went at it a little faster.
Up and down, up and down, sucking and slurping and moaning around his dick – which left you no room to get out anything beyond a series of gurgled moans and groans. The feeling of ecstasy washed over you like the ocean's tide, pulling you further away from shore, deeper into its blue depths.
Aki reached down to tangle a fist in your hair. He grunted something along the lines of 'Good fuckin' girl' into your pussy, and then he was guiding your head up and down his shaft. A little faster now.
Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks.
Aki sighed, throbbing in your mouth, growing bigger as you felt him get harder. In response to your ministrations, he tightened the suction around your clit, then loosened it again. It was all too much to handle – you felt like you were melting.
"Fuck," He panted, releasing the suction. His hips jumped up as he chased a little more of that release he desperately craved. 
When his hand slipped behind his head to guide your head gently, bobbing you back and forth on his dick, you melted into him. You were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you were determined. His shudders and sighs spurred you onward.
"Takin' it so well," He purred, guiding your head. "Gettin' me so close."
You felt that fire in your core reignite, thighs clenching around his pretty face while you pulled back for a moment to slurp on the tip rather unceremoniously, spit dripping down his dick. You tilted your head to the side, wrapping your hands around what you couldn't fit into your mouth to work the rest of him. Your tongue swirled around it like a lollipop.
You were putting in overtime.
As you braced your hands on his hips to sink your head the rest of the way down, you met some resistance, eyes watering as you felt yourself gag on him. 
The muscles in Aki's thighs tensed. With a blissful sigh, he slipped a finger into your warmth. He felt so fucking good, it made your heart skip a beat – long, thick fingers sliding into you with little resistance, tongue working you up to an orgasm already.
"Oh, fuuuck..." He trailed off, then his hand fisted itself in your hair, and you felt yourself mewl. "'M so close, wait–"
(Of course, that only made you want to do it more). You wrapped your lips tighter around him, sucking him down until you were moaning around his length.
"God–" He sucked you back into his mouth, then departed from the wet flesh to shudder beneath you, "Oh, shit, I think I'm–" Another shudder, another tremble, then his hips were arching up off the bed, "Fuck–"
Then he came hard, crying out your name before he broke – popping in your mouth like bubblegum, shooting a warm load down the back of your throat. His grip on your hair tightened, as if he hadn't expected to finish so soon, and then he was huffing out a quiet, blissed out laugh. You swallowed it like it was your job.
"Got a little excited, did we?" You teased, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Still, your voice was hoarse when you climbed off of him. 
When you turned to face him, he didn't reply – chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His hair was disheveled and his face was pink, glossy at the bottom where you had been seated. His blue eyes were wide and wild as he licked his lips.
Truthfully, you were okay with the fact that you hadn't finished. His reactions – feeling him arch up into you the way he did – were enough. He did not seem to share your sentiment, gazing at you like you were a slab of raw meat.
"Come here," He answered. "Ride my face, baby."
He's got some crazy stamina, you gaped at him. 
Still, when he didn't revoke his statement, you began to smile. "Yeah?"
"Please," He pleaded with you. 
You swung your leg over him slowly, careful and deliberate, as if you were testing the weight of the moment. The second you settled onto his chest, you felt everything shift. His body was warm beneath you, solid and unmoving, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense—sent a shiver racing down your spine. 
You fidgeted, your fingers brushing over the hem of your shirt in a nervous, mindless gesture, trying to distract yourself from the way his gaze seemed to burn through you. His hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead in wild, disheveled strands, and his lips quirked into the faintest, laziest smirk. From here, you could see him – really see him, and he was fucking beautiful.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice low, teasing, but it did nothing to ease the flutter of nerves in your chest. 
Then he smiled wider, letting his head fall back against the mattress while you settled your thighs around his face. Nervously, you lowered yourself down, hovering over him. "You look great from down here, by the way." 
The words struck you like a physical touch, heat rushing to your cheeks. You opened your mouth, ready to shoot back something—anything—but before you could, his hands shifted at your sides, steadying your hips as he moved down on the bed.
The motion brought you off balance, your breath catching in a sharp gasp as you pressed your palms against the wall behind him to steady yourself. The closeness was overwhelming, his body beneath yours, his hands at your waist, his grin nothing short of devilish. 
"Careful," he said, his voice soft but unmistakably amused. 
"You're impossible," you shot back, your words trembling as much as your hands. 
"And yet, here you are," he replied smoothly, his thumbs brushing gently against your sides, sending sparks skittering along your skin. 
Before you could think of a retort, you felt it—a light, barely-there press of his lips against the most sensitive part of you. Your breath hitched, your entire body freezing in place as he tilted his head, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. 
"You're so tense," he murmured, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your leg as he licked another long, hot stripe across it, this one slower, more deliberate. 
Your knees tightened instinctively against his face, your pulse pounding so loudly you could barely hear the soft rumble of his laugh. 
"What are you—" you started, but your voice faltered when he tilted his head again, wrapping his lips around your puffy pink clit and lavishing it with attention from his tongue.. 
He hummed, his tone maddeningly calm, even as his fingers slid up just a fraction, his grip on your ass a little firmer now. 
Your chest tightened, the heat rushing from your cheeks to the pit of your stomach. "Fuck me, Aki" you managed to whisper, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have. 
"I want to," he admitted, then went back to practically making out with your pussy, sending a jolt through your body.
You tried to move, tried to pull back and regain some semblance of control, but his hands steadied you, his grip strong but never forceful. Your breath hitched again as he looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity there made you forget what you were going to say, forget where you were entirely – at least, until you heard him slurping you up, gathering your juices onto his tongue.
"Aki, please, I–" You pleaded with the man. Your hand had found its way down to his head, gripping his damp, disheveled locks like your life depended on it. In a matter of seconds, he had single handedly reduced you to a babbling mess. "Mnnnh-"
He groaned into your flesh. With your thighs pressed against both sides of his head, he made for a pretty sight. His hair was tied into a back, though you had ruined most of it with your ruthless rutting. He did nothing to stop you as you clamped your legs over his ears, shamelessly riding his face – just as he had asked.
Prying your legs away from his face, Aki gasped for air. His face was flushed a pretty shade of red. His eyes were wild, lustful as your juices dripped off the sides of his face. "Never gettin' over how good you taste," he panted.
You lifted your hips away from his face in an attempt to make it easier for him to breathe. Your efforts were in vain. He gripped your hips harshly, seating you on his face and then continuing to eat you up like a man starved. 
You found it difficult to pry your eyes away from him. He looked so happy to be trapped between your thighs like this, like he had been waiting ages for it. The way he sucked and slurped expertly at your dripping cunt had your legs trembling around him.
"Sit," he mumbled through a mouthful of your clit. 
"Don't wann'... ngh," You leaned forward, bracing your hands over the bed frame while he dragged your hips back and forth, back and forth over his face until the friction was almost too much to bear. Every time his nose bumped your clit, you mewled, rutting your hips down. "G'nna crush you."
"Sit," he affirmed. "Ride my face."
"Aki– I'm close," You managed to get out through a string of broken moans.
He moaned, pushing your hips up against his nose. He never stopped his incessant licking and sucking, tongue working you up to what would be an earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy was sensitive, so sensitive, yet he wasn't going any easier on you. At this rate, you were convinced you would have to beg for mercy.
"Can't..." You panted. You weren't sure you could finish another time. You were sore, tired, and you were beyond overstimulated.
"C'mon, baby," he paused his desperate licking to beg. "You can do it for me."
You licked your lips, feeling tears begin to well at the corners of your eyes. It was all so much... too much. "I can't," you gasped.
"You can do it, baby," He purred. Sucking harshly on your clit – and then making up for it with a few gentle licks – he added. "Just one, okay?"
On cue, he slid his hands up to your waist, fingers digging into the skin on your waist. You weren't sure if you could take any more. You felt like you were going to fucking pass out.
"Aki, 'm gonna cum," You began, abruptly cutting your own sentence off with a gasp as slipped his tongue inside. "Fuck."
Aki's tongue was long, reaching deeper into you than you expected, and the angle certainly didn't make it better. Almost immediately, he had you arching up, thighs trembling as they clamped around his face, rubbing a slow, steady circle to ease you into the sudden intrusion before he began fucking it into you. You saw stars – and didn't stop moaning until he had to pry your legs open.
You raised your head off the bed, trying to rest your weight on your trembling hands, atop his bed frame so you could get a good look at him. 
You would never forget the sight of him below you like that. His hair – despite having been ruined by your legs – framed his pretty face the same way it usually did. His face was dusted with a gentle, rosy hue again.
You were embarrassed, oddly enough, and laid your head down to cover your face with your hands. He couldn't be real. There was no way this was real. It was too good to be true. 
"Oh my fucking God–" you stammered. "'M gonna cum– I'm gonna cum!"
He parted from your pussy with an obscene slurp, "Come on, baby– Cum all over my face."
And cum on his face you sure did. Instantaneously, somehow, he licked the right spot – just the right amount of pressure – then it snapped. The coil of your release snapped with all of the power of a freight train, your orgasm slamming into you in a way that had your back arching up off of the bed. 
Your hips jolted up against his fingers and his tongue, lips chanting his name like a mantra while feeling every last stroke of his warm tongue against your pussy.
You could feel the shock tear through you in waves, tearing trembling gasps from your lungs while you expelled your juices all over his face and the bed. "Aki," you gasped again once the pleasure had cleared long enough for you to think. Not your soon-to-be-ex-husband, Aki. 
"Oh, God, I made a fuckin' mess," You said, teetering between a gasp and a laugh.
Aki chuckled, his voice low and breathless, and somehow even in this state, he was devastatingly gorgeous. His hair stuck to his damp forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his lips curved into the kind of smile that sent warmth flooding through you. "You're so fucking hot, you know that?" he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere.
You let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head as you tried to gather your thoughts. But then you looked at him—really looked at him. His head was tilted back against the pillow, his eyes half-lidded but still shining with that unmistakable adoration he always seemed to have when he looked at you. Blissed out and in love, he looked utterly wrecked in the best possible way.
Your gaze flicked down to the pillow beneath him, and you couldn't help but cringe. A mess, indeed. The sight of it—the tangled sheets, the cotton of his pillowcase drenched, the faint evidence of your chaotic moment—was enough to make your cheeks burn again.
When you looked back up at Aki, he was already watching you, his expression softening into something lighter, something playful. For a second, neither of you said anything, just staring at each other like you couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, almost simultaneously, your eyes darted back to the pillow, and it hit you both at once.
You snorted first, trying to stifle the sound with your hand, but Aki wasn't far behind. His laughter started low, rumbling in his chest, before it grew into something freer, more unrestrained.
"Oh my God," you wheezed, doubling over as the giggles took over, your body shaking with the force of it. "Look at this—how the hell are we gonna clean that up?"
"I'll toss it in tonight, but we'll be sleeping without a pillow tonight" he managed to say between breaths, his voice breaking with laughter. "Oh, shit."
That sent you into another fit of giggles, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you leaned forward, burying your face in his shoulder. "Stop," you gasped, "Don't be a fucking dick."
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a/n: there it is!! the chapter i've been busting my ass over. i hope it came out good omg, i feel like its terrible but i be way too hard on myself. i wanted to take some time to let you know that I'm currently writing the Aki fanfic that will replace this one once it's all wrapped up -- you can read the first chapters on my profile, it's called Call Out My Name, and it's about a fake marriage that leads to very real feelings (sorta enemies to lovers but not rlly, aki's just bad at expressing himself lol). I would greatly appreciate it if you could go give it a read!! If you loved Shameless, you'll love that one, too!!! Of course, though, nothing will ever replace Shameless in my heart. I love this story too damn much, and I adore the community I've built up on here. Thank you for all of the love so far!! Comment and let me know what y'all thought of this chapter, and maybe even what you hope to see in future ones!! QOTD: have you streamed Rauw Alejandro's new album? Also, is 69 actually an efficient position? (And why is the answer no).
credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!
taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505
wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index
26 notes · View notes
tsukii0002 · 2 hours ago
Note
I'd like to request a situation where the brothers react to MC doing that trend about girls calling their boyfriend "husband" in front of people. For example
*MC and a bother (any) are at a restaurant and a waiter has come to take their order*
MC: so I'd like this and this, and my *husband* (pointing at the brother) would like-
The brother: *melting inside and panicking*
Then they'll bug MC for the entire day, maybe even week
<3
Hi! , thanks for the suggestion, I loved thinking about these situations. I hope you like it.
Warning: I wasn't sure how to write these situations so the formatting may be a bit messy, and in this case Mc is the same person as the reader.
Lucifer
You had invited Lucifer to the human world, to one of your favorite coffee shops where you were already known, to give the eldest of the brothers a break. When the waitress approached you, she recognized you immediately.
Waitress: Hello Mc! Good to see you, who is with you today?
Mc: Hi, this is my husband.
The only thing that changed in his expression was a slight blush on his cheeks, but from under the table he reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. The waitress smiled mischievously and after leaving the menu she left. Then Lucifer's face colored more and he caught you in his arms. You could see the adoration and embarrassment on his face.
Lucifer: Should we stay here for a few days my spouse?
Mammon
You had gone to the cinema with Mammon, he was a bit discouraged because he had just lost money at the casino, so although he had accepted he was rather quiet. You went ahead to order the drinks.
Employee: What are you going to order?
Mc: Oh, I'll have the demon combo and for my husband the spicy combo.
You saw how the demon's skin bristled, as if an electric shock had hit him. He looked at you wide-eyed, his face very red, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth without saying anything. You paid and went to the screening room, he kept covering his face the whole time.
Mc: *smiling* Is something wrong?
Mammon: You... *still blushing* say it again…
Mc: What do you want me to say again husband?
Mammon: *shyly* Don't forget it ok? *hugging you tightly* I'm your husband and you're my spouse.
Levi
A package had arrived for Levi, he asked you to take it even though he was following you very closely. The delivery man didn't seem sure it was yours.
Delivery man: Is it for you?
Mc: No, no, it's for my husband.
You could feel a high-pitched squeal. Levi felt his body stop working, and soon he was a mess, opening and closing his mouth trying to say something with no success. He had to have misheard, there was no way you could have called him that, was there?
Levi: A- Aaa… *stammering* Are you serious???
Mc: Of course.
Levi: For real ???? Are you sure??!!
Mc: *laughing* Yes xrubbing his nose* now could my husband help me with this????
Levi: New achievement unlocked!!!! You have been promoted to husband!!! *looking at you with crystalline eyes* I promise not to disappoint you… spouse…
Satan
Satan had asked you to accompany him to an event, the place was full of the demon's acquaintances and he was so busy greeting them all, that you ended up talking to one or twi.
Random Demon: Where do you know Satan from?
Mc: Oh, he's my husband.
Satan, a few steps away from you, kept talking for a moment and then stopped, turned very slowly to look at you with an expression of being very afraid that he had imagined those words. But when you smiled, his face instantly flushed. Trying to remain calm, with trembling hands, he ended the conversation quickly and approached you, taking your hands.
Satan: You…
Mc: Is something wrong *grinning*, my husband?
Satan took a breath while looking at the ground ashamed, all the demons nearby were watching. He let the air out and slowly pulled himself together while hugging you.
Satan: Nothing is wrong *smiling* spouse, let's enjoy this evening.
Asmo
You were out partying with Asmo, and, as usual, your demon was already surrounded by fans and admirers. Everyone was clamoring for his attention and it was clear that Asmo enjoyed the attention he was getting, so you simply smiled when a demon approached you.
Demon: Asmo is your friend right?
Mc: Asmo? *raising your voice* he's my husband.
Asmo's cheeks lit up and his whole body seemed to glow even brighter. He brought his hands to his face, everyone was impressed, the confident Asmo was beautiful but the embarrassed Asmo was an equally pleasing sight. You walked over and held out your hand.
Mc: We should go home *smiling* husband?
Asmo rushed into your arms and started kissing you, while the color in his cheeks became more and more accentuated.
Asmo: What have I done to deserve you? I love you so much Mc.
Mc: Just that?
Asmo: *shaking his head* I love you with all my being… spouse.
Beel
Beel had offered to accompany you on some errands related to the sorcerers' society. While you were talking to some of them he was watching you carefully. But some of those eyes were fixed on him.
Sorcerer: Is he…? You know…
Mc: Oh? Beel? He's my husband.
The eyes of the sorcerers opened wide while Beel, took a few seconds to assimilate your words and immediately became very red, He looked at the ground did not know where to look. His hands were moving without finding a position and he had started to sweat.
Mc: Isn't it true?
Beel slowly looked into your eyes before looking back down at the ground, with that embarrassed puppy face, as he nodded silently, but with a big smile. You moved closer and he put his arm around you protectively as he leaned down to caress your cheek with his own.
Beel: So if I'm your husband… that makes you my spouse, right? *radiant smile*
Belphie
You and Belphie were lying in the attic, Belphie was half asleep while you were on a video call with your friends in the human world.
Friend: Oh Mc, is someone there?
Mc: Yes, this is Belphie *showing him with the camera* My husband.
Belphie's sleep faded instantly, and he looked at you with wide eyes, you smiled at him while your friends screamed in excitement, then he pouted a little while his cheeks lit up.
Friends: Why didn't you tell us any-
Without thinking he snatched the phone from you and cut the call, hiding in the crook of your neck. He squeezed your hand and looked at you, looking angry but unable to hide his embarrassment or excitement.
Belphie: So I had a spouse and I didn't know about it?
Mc: I don't know...*pushes his bangs aside* maybe I was wrong?
Belphie: No *hugging you tightly* only I am your husband, and you are going to have this husband forever… remember that.
.
.
Hi, I realized that I had a few finished requests that I had left in drafts *internal scream* 🙃 how can I be so forgetful!!?? I will upload them during the next few days, so I'm really sorry to those who asked for them. Another thing is that I was extending the situations as the brothers are passing, well Lucifer is the most popular (?) so it's fine 🙄.
If you've read this far thank you very much 🩷.
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tf2occontest · 1 day ago
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Joseph Panganiban (Defuser Class) VS The Courier
(Full matchup list here)
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Alright team, here's a recap: This is a contest to determine who amongst you will take the top of the leaderboards and be hired at TFI! Simply put, whoever gets the most votes gets to move on, and whoever doesn't... Well. They'll be put down swiftly and cleanly. :}
So, mann your stations, because here are your next contestants! Vote for your favorite mercenary who you want to win the TF2 OC Contest! - P
OC INFO UNDER THE CUT!
We highly encourage you to take a peek to make your decision!
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Joseph Panganiban (Defuser Class)
@that-one-digi
Image credit: @/that-one-digi
joseph "defuser" panganiban is a 25 year old man hired by mann co. their job is to take down sticky traps and disable sentries, for the most part. their main weapon of choice is their EMP bombs that neutralize the electronic components in a sticky bomb that allow it to remote detonate. another effect these bombs have is short-circuiting a sentry, sappers or any electronic device within a small radius; causing it to be temporarily unsuable.
they are a hot-headed, stubborn, and brash individual who likes to solve things with their fists and baser kill instincts when pissed-off.
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The Courier
@sicc-nasti
Image credit: @/sicc-nasti
Do you like receiving your mail on time and your packages in pristine condition - untouched by curious hands and peeping eyes? Do you love when your woefully embarrassing love letters filled with poetry from your soul are delivered with the utmost care and secrecy? Does it fill you with glee when your special snacks you ordered overseas finally make its way into your hands and not a SINGLE piece is missing?
If you said yes to any of these questions then WOW do I NOT have the guy for you!!!!
Instead-
TFI presents you something you didn't know was possible OR legal - weaponized postal services!
Meet your 10th Class-
The Courier!
By intercepting and opening someone else's mail, an individual can gain access to confidential information that can be used for identity theft, fraud, or other illegal activities. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we? That's why our solution to this simple problem is bringing the mail to the battlefield! Courier is equipped with MANN CO approved disposable stackable mail crates for your climbing or shielding needs. Just think of how nice it would be to build a tower to do taunts on or have cover from that enemy Heavy's hail of bullets. Sure it's clunky but nothing shreds paper faster than a bullet - that's science tested and math approved by TFI scientists! And monkeys!
Courier is THE MANN for the job.
If that ain't enough to catch your attention, let's take a peek at the men behind the uniform.
RED’s Courier is a Puerto Rican ex-felon hailing from the greatest place on earth! New York City! With an insatiable appetite for all things fraud, deli meats, and violence - what more could you ask from a guy?
BLU's Courier is a Puerto Rican-Italian ex-con plucked from the greatest place on earth! Jersey City! With an insatiable appetite for all things smuggling, deli meats, and violence - what more could you ask from a guy?
Not enough for a vote?
Well, listen, I'm not above bribery. If you vote for them, Courier promises to not read your mail for like a week and INSTEAD- will write you up a totally not fraudulent marriage certificate to any merc you want!! Just think! Finally legally married to Heavy! Or Engie! How’s that sound for incentive, boss?
THROUGH RAIN, SHINE, BULLET HAIL OR SNOW, THEY’RE YOUR COURIER.
VOTE FOR COURIER IN THIS UPCOMING TF2 OC CONTEST
Maybe there’ll be enough in the budget for a third one!
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frick-en · 2 days ago
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With a Tender Kiss, I'll Love You Always
Well golly. I haven't written fanfiction in ages. Anyway, I'm obsessed with Justin Herbert and in a soft mood, so I want to write something that'll give you a cavity or two.
It's not that good, but I needed to write this. For some reason.
Enjoy!
P.S. I didn't read over this. It is as I have written it.
The knocking on the door continues as you struggle to lift yourself off your bed with crutches. Grumbling to yourself, you finally find balance. Or at least as much balance as you can for someone with one functioning leg.
You hobble to your front door and check the peep hole. You only see the torso of your vertically gifted friend and the cause of your current misfortune.
Convincing you to go skiing for the first time ever was something no one else could do, but Justin Herbert made a compelling argument. And by that, he really just told you that he really wanted you to go skiing with him. You know you shouldn't turn into such a following, babbling, love-stricken idiot around him, but you couldn't turn that part of your brain off when he was around.
You unlock the door and hobble back as you swing it open. Justin reaches out to catch you as you start to lose balance again. He's very good at doing that.
"You ok?" He asks you. You only nod in response, feeling another shooting pain stream through your leg all the way up to your hip.
You and Justin make your ways to the couch. Justin grabs your hand and helps you sit more comfortably, setting your crutches against the side table. A lot easier to do than throw them in floor, which usually ends up happening when you try to prop them up somewhere.
"I can still get you a scooter, you know." Justin offers.
"I'd rather you get me a surgeon who will fix me up today," You grumble.
Justin sits beside you and smiles at you. That's all he really had to do to get you to smile back at him. But you can see it in his eyes that he's beating himself up. He feels more guilty over this than anything he's done in his life.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to say sorry enough times for this."
"Justin, stop. I'm not mad at you," You reassure him, but you know he won't feel any better about this.
"You still have to wait another week till surgery, right?" He asks.
"Unfortunately."
"What do you need me to do until then?"
There was one thing about this whole ordeal that has made it even more difficult to get over. And it's the fact that you haven't been able to shower. It's too dangerous. You've been told to take sponge baths until after surgery. It's kinda ridiculous sometimes, but that's healthcare for you.
"It's kinda weird," You begin.
"Whatever it is. I'll do it."
"I need help," You struggle to say what you need to say. Justin is a good friend of yours, and while you harbor potentially unrequited feelings for him, you don't want to make him uncomfortable. Justin is such a good friend to you. He's the whole reason why you've been able to come out of your shell and actually enjoy a lot of life's fun little quirks. That was until you trip over a larger than expected rock while skiing down a mountain of hard snow.
Justin was the first person by your side. He carried you out of the line of other skiers and stayed with you at the hospital.
"Are you gonna say it? Or do I need to guess?" Justin asks.
"Sorry. I," You sigh. "Please don't get weird about this."
"Then tell me," He responds, poking your arm playfully. This gesture allows you to realize just how close he is sitting to you.
"I really need to shower. But they told me not to because I could get hurt, and because I don't have a bathtub, I can't sit in a bath either. I can only take sponge baths until after the surgery. I just feel really gross, and I think if I smelled less like vanilla ass, then I'll feel better."
"You want me to give you a sponge bath?" He asks.
"I just need help with one. I'm not gonna make you do everything," You explain.
You tell Justin that you need a bowl of soapy water, preferably warm along with your sponge and a towel or two.
"Is that all?" Justin asks.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?" You asks him noticing the slight pink tinge to his cheeks. Dimples on full display as he shakes his head.
"Thank you, Justin."
"You need me to stay here while you get cleaned up? I mean, in a different room."
"Sure. I might need your help," You respond. Justin nods and starts to walk away before you call him again, "Justin? Would you mind bringing me a clean shirt? I'm ashamed to say how long it's been since I've changed."
"Don't worry about it. I'll be right back," Justin responds. He walks back to your room and doesn't take long to bring back a familiar t-shirt. A green one with a big yellow "O" painted on it.
"I didn't know you had this," He says. "I've been looking for it honestly."
"I'm sorry. I couldn't bring myself to give it back."
Justin tosses you the shirt. He stands there waiting for you to give him your dirty clothes.
"Uhh... Sorry, I- Would you mind? Turning around?" You ask him.
"Oh! Sorry. I wasn't thinking," Justin turns around and holds his hand out for the shirt. You quickly switch t-shirts, deciding to wait until he leaves the room to take the shirt back off.
After taking your time to wash every crevice you could reach, you finally reach the most difficult part of this process. Your feet. You pull the leg of you sweatpants up and try to reach your sponge over to your feet. You feel that stinging, shooting pain again. And you're trying to clean your good foot. The splint on your other leg makes it surprisingly difficult in the position you're in to move your good leg.
You groan in pain and sit back on the couch. Taking a deep breath until the pain subsides. You sit back up and try to reach again with no luck.
You sigh. "Justin! You can come back in here now!"
Justin awkwardly enters the living room and sees you struggle to get your feet.
"You ok?" He asks. "You need help?"
"I'm sorry," You respond.
Justin walks over to the couch and crouches down in front of you. He puts the bowl of lukewarm water in the floor over a towel. He gently grabs your leg and adjusts so that you can be in a more comfortable position.
"That alright?' He asks, looking up at you. Eyes sparkling.
You feel like you swallowed a frog with the way he's looking at you. You nod. Justin holds your foot as he takes your sponge and gently scrubs.
"Is that warm enough?" He asks. So attentive to you.
"Yeah," You say with a raspy breath. Justin uses the towel to dry your foot off. He looks up at you again and smiles.
Not being able to stop yourself from talking, you say, "This is officially the weirdest thing I've ever done with a friend."
"Yeah." Justin says quietly as he moves to the more sensitive leg. He gently pulls the leg of your sweatpants up, gently grabbing your foot and even more gently scrubbing the foot. He notices the deep purples and reds that reach your calf. Those same colors that is causing the delay in your surgery.
"You good?" You ask him, being the worried one for a change.
"I just can't believe this happened to you. It's all my fault," He says.
"Justin."
"No. I'm the one who convinced you to go skiing when you said repeatedly you didn't want to."
"Justin. If I didn't want to go skiing then I wouldn't. I only went because it was you," You explain. Not even thinking. The things that a fresh sponge bath makes a girl do.
"Yeah. Cause I'm your friend," He says, going quiet again.
"Because I like spending time with you. I love spending time with you. And I'll do whatever you want so that I can keep spending time with you."
"What?"
"I'll do whatever you want so that I can keep spending time with you."
Justin looks up at you again. He stands on his knees to get a little closer to you.
"What do you mean by that?"
"You're smart enough to figure it out yourself, Herbert."
"Please, tell me."
"Don't make me say it."
Justin moves so that he's a mere centimeter from your face. Your lips just barely touch before you stop and pull him in for a hug. Justin doesn't think. He just hugs you back and savors the moment.
"I would let you kiss me, but I have shit breath right now too. I want my first kiss with you to be perfect."
"I don't care how smelly you think your breath is. But if you want to wait. I'm fine with that. I'm just glad we can finally be subtly honest with each other," Justin admits. You nod along in agreement before Justin touches a tender kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes and breathe him in. Afraid that he'll evaporate into thin air if you don't savor this moment yourself.
"I'll love you always, you know."
_____
That's all folks. I didn't really know how to end the story. But it's been a long time since I've written so please give me you most constructive criticisms please.
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starseneyes · 2 days ago
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Garashir - Julian Bashir / Elim Garak - Deep Space 9
Yes, I'm doing it. After weeks of my poor husband listening to me rant and rave about these two, I decided it was time to start a Meta following their relationship and what wasn't and could have been if TPTB had let these two experience a fully formed romantic relationship rather than one told in between furtive glances and flitting flirtations.
I was quite young when Deep Space 9 aired, but I remember gravitating very heavily toward Julian Bashir. His character underwent such growth, and Siddig El Fadil (as I memorized his name when I was a child, now billed as Alexander Siddig) was mezmerizing.
Little Rachel didn't catch every episode, so I missed a lot of Andrew Robinson as Garak, but watching as an adult I am in awe of the charismatic performance that birthed out of one heckuva interestingly written first scene.
Where will this go? Oh, everywhere! And I'm ever so glad to go there with you.
I wouldn't think a 30-year-old show would need a spoiler warning, but just in case: Spoilers abound for those who dare to dive in. Everything. In totality. Even a bit about Star Trek: Lower Decks.
Shall we?
Before we begin with the meeting of two spectacular characters, I want to preface that I am well-aware that Siddig and Robinson were onboard from moment one and that they acted the hell out of it.
I think it's absolutely beautiful that these two have been the champions of this relationship, and it makes it all the more fun to write a meta like this—knowing that a lot of the microexpressions I tend to latch onto naturally were intentional. Oh, that makes this even more fun!
"It's Doctor Bashir, isn't it? Of course it is. May I introduce myself?" "Uhhhh, yes. Yes. Of course."
From moment one, Bashir is flustered. Yes, we could say he has a degree of excitement about meeting a supposed spy, but there's something in the way these two hold one another's gazes before Garak even opens his mouth that's intriguing.
Thanks to Robinson's openess about his character, we know that Garak was DTF. But Bashir is on the receiving end of this attention and affection, and unsure how to respond to it.
Now, I don't think this is is because our dear doctor is not open to attraction between himself and a being who is not female-presenting, but more because he truly believes this being to be a spy.
Can you trust the flirtations of someone skilled in the art of espionage? This is something Bashir will have to chew on for some time. He just doesn't know it, yet.
"My name is Garak. A Cardassian by birth, obviously."
And there's the moment Bashir looks the man up and down. But, why? It's such a minor thing, but it catches my attention every time, mostly because I know it was a choice on Siddig's part. Bashir looked this alien up and down while trying to figure him out.
Garak invites himself to sit across from the handsome doctor, stating much of the obvious while attempting to draw Bashir out.
"You are new to this station, I believe." "I-I-I am, yes."
Bashir is stammering. And it reminds me of my Middle child. Middle is Autistic, and stammering often happens when he's worked up about something, or really excited.
Bashir then places his elbows on the table... and immediately encounters the plant. He tries to bat it away, but becomes so embarassed he puts his hands back down on the table.
"Though, though I understand you've been here for quite a while." "Ah! You know of me, then."
Garak is noticeably delighted. No doubt, he thinks this awareness smooths the way for him to be even more forward with the object of his desire.
Bashir defers to tea and tries to order Garak some, while Garak basks in the attentive nature of this human he's spied. No doubt, he's wondering just how attentive the good doctor is in other areas of his life.
"As you may also know, I have a clothing shop nearby, so if you should require any apparel, or simply wish as I do, for a bit of enjoyable company now and then, I'm at your disposal, doctor."
Translation: I want to drape you in the sexiest clothes, then disrobe you, and I'll do it anytime you like, just let me know. What, that wasn't what you heard?!
"You're very kind, Mr. Garak."
Kind. It's a word that will come back (though not for another season or so) between these two.
"Oh, it's just Garak. Plain simple, Garak."
Plain and Simple will come back, too. I have to give the writers so much credit for bringing both these things back around later on in the series.
"I'm so glad to have made such an interesting new friend."
He places his hands on Bashir's shoulders, that right hand taking its time as the fingers settle and the human watches them, wondering precisely what he's feeling as it rushes through him in waves. Excitement? Attraction? Danger? All three?!
Hopeful he's gotten his meaning across, Garak leaves the nice doctor be. But the impression of the conversation stays with Bashir as a series of emotions and reactions flash across his features.
Yes, there's the excitement of a young man with flights of fancy thinking he's met a spy. But there's also a "What the hell was that!?" that flits across his face as he tries to process all the things he simultaneously felt.
Amongst the other emotions, there was a definite attraction and desire for this Cardassian he's never met. There was something about him that was intriguing from moment one.
The human has always liked aliens, as we recall from his experiences when his parents first took him away to be "reconditioned as a child. He was excited to see so many different aliens, then, and his work as a Doctor allows him to encounter many different species.
But this Cardassian showered him in compliments that disarmed him and left this seemingly smooth ladies' man stammering and grasping for composure. That he could be so easily stripped bare of the arrogance that encapsulated early Bashir characterization is no accident.
The actors gave us this gift in their very first scene together with no idea if they would ever meet, again. At this point, Robinson was a one-episode guest star on the show. It doesn't matter. Both he and Siddig performed the hell out of this.
Later, Julian spies Garak out for a drink. And the way the camera finds him alone in a corner lends a sense of loneliness and isolation to the Cardassian. Even the separation of us from him by the bars in the establishing shot seem to block him out, somewhat.
"And how are you this evening, Mr Garak?"
Dear sweet Julian is on the hunt for a spy, but Garak is simply happy to spot the spry, young Doctor, again. The way "enhance my evening" drips off his tongue tastes of that carnal want in the gentlest of ways.
"Ah, plain simple Garak. How are you today?" "Being observant, Doctor." "I'm sure of it."
That giggle Siddig puts into the performance is just delicious. It feels lived in and earnest.
And then these two have the first of many standing conversations—where the meaning of personal space does not exist. Yes, they were dealing with a 4:3 ratio, but there's a difference between tight quarters and kissing range.
"Come in quickly, Doctor, you're late."
Garak is man-handling his human, but there's a reason for it. And poor, dear Julian actually holds up the suit jacket to see if he likes it. I don't know if that was the actor choice or the script, but it genuinely made me laugh.
This episode aired January 1993, which means it was likely shot in late 1992. The next time the two would work together would be on Season 2's "Cardassians", which aired in October of the same year.
This time, it's Julian who notices Garak sitting alone, drinking from a matching mug begging for its pairing to join it.
"Ah, Tarkalean Tea, again, doctor?"
Nicely done, DS9 writers. Calling back to that first meeting where Bashir offered Garak some tea, saying it was good.
Also, this casual acknowledgement suggests there've been some more interactions that have gone unseen by us in the meantime. It's been 9 months in the real world since last they saw one another, so it isn't unrealistic to imagine.
But the writer of this scene quickly roots us in some kind of a casual relationship that has developed since last Garak set his sights on the doctor. It's expertly done, and while it's not related entirely to the performance, I have to call it out because it's so well done.
Bashir starts fishing, again, about the spy he believes Garak to be. And while Garak plays along a little (because he clocks it immediately), he does tire of it.
"Really, Doctor? Must we always play this game?"
Again, I wanna smooch the screenwriter. This is the 90's, y'all. This is just coming off an era where Riker and Troi were seemingly a couple one episode and the next they were making eyes at other people as if they didn't know one another.
This was an era where episodes were essentially still written in a bottle without continuous storylines because the goal was to establish television that allowed Drop In viewers to join the show at any point without needing previous knowledge to understand every nuance.
Deep Space 9 was famous for bringing continuous story-telling to the forefront of Star Trek with the Dominion War, among other things.
But even here in Season 2, someone on that writing team understood the importance of the relationship between these characters so intimately that they sneaked in lines to establish a history unseen by the audience. That's mind-blowingly masterful and deserves attention.
"I'm no more a spy than you are-" "A doctor."
Ooh, is that a little bitchiness coming off of Bashir here? Me gusta! It's so much more attractive here when aimed at the charismatic Cardassian than when employed in attempted seductions of Daxes.
"What else can I do to convince you I'm just-" "Plain, simple Garak?"
Again, calling back to 9 months earlier at a time when most of us were still recording episodes on VHS and mailing them cross-country in tape exchanges coordinated by a burgeoning internet that consisted of IRC, ICQ, and AOL's Buddy Chat. This is artfully done.
"And a bite on the hand is certainly worth saving a boy's life, wouldn't you say?" "I suppose it depends on whose hand. Just joking, Doctor."
Bashir huffs out the slightest laugh at that. But as they speak, the topic turns to Gul Dukat, and Garak gives the good Doctor an education. One that Bashir attempts to use in a verbal confrontation with Gul Dukat that goes nowhere.
"He's lying." "Is that an opinion, or do you have evidence to support it?" "I have Garak."
This is intriguing to me. Because, in the first scene of the episode, as Garak and Bashir sipped drinks and chatted, Bashir brought up the issue of "trust".
On nothing but the word of a Cardassian he casually knows, Bashir inserted himself into a conversation to which he was no part and got himself duly told off by his superior officer.
One could say that he was foolhardy to so readily believe the man he has correctly deduced to be involved in espionage. But, there's something at a chemical level about these two that cannot be denied. And the next scene shows it all the more.
Bashir tosses and turns in bed, something interfering with his peaceful slumber. He starts himself awake and sits up to see Garak sitting patiently, watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake.
"Come, Doctor."
Woah, there, Nelly. I know you like to be forward, Garak, but did you really need to be that obvious?! There'll be plenty of time for that later.
"Get dressed."
I'm sorry. Are we implying that Garak is just gonna... chill in Bashir's quarters while he unbuttons that non-regulation looking night shirt and nothing's gonna happen between the two of them?
I mean, I suppose there's a reality where Garak is too worried about this Cardassian War Orphan to take advantage of the moment, but I'm certain he is not going to waste the opportunity to enjoy the view.
"We need to be going." "Going? Going where?" "To Bajor."
And on nothing more than that, the good Doctor suits up, wakes his superior officer (who just told him off) and requests a Runabout.
"It's Garak, sir. He wants to go to Bajor." "Bajor. For what?" "He wouldn't tell me."
Listen, honey. I know you're down bad for the Cardassian bad boy, but your Commander's getting a little tired of you interrupting him (first his meeting, then his sleep) on his behalf. Just bang him and be done with it, won't you? But, of course, a timely message saves the day.
"It can't be just a coincidence, sir... What could he be looking for on Bajor?" "There's only one way to find out."
And thus, a Cardassian and his human boy toy took off for answers.
"Perhaps, I can be of service." "You can fix computers?" "Oh, I dabble in isolinear subprocessors. It's a hobby of mine." *jaw clench*
I have to call out the jaw clench. There are few actors who can make a motion that minute and have it read well on camera.
"I continue to underestimate you, Garak."
I've never understood this line. Perhaps, Bashir could not fathom all of Garak's capabilities, but one would automatically assum a spy possessed hidden talents.
Perhaps this line speaks to the 90's, an era when we still pretty-much stuck to the labels provided by John Hughe's Breakfast Club of Brain, Athlete, Basket Case, Princess, and Criminal. Folks weren't easily more than one thing in that compartmentalized view of society and media.
If anything, Garak is an incredible Grey character when it comes to morality and motivation. So, perhaps his inclusion in the show is a delineator between the old and the new—where more complex characters were accepted on television.
But, no, Julian, I don't think you've underestimated him. Perhaps your imagination didn't stretch so far to encompass all of Garak's talents. But, if anything, you've put more stock in him and what he says than anyone else. Otherwise, you wouldn't be on this planet right now.
Garak removes his eyeglass and hands it instinctively to Julian, who receives it. It's a very intimate moment, honestly. They don't discuss this in any way. Garak knows Julian would want to see it, and he hopes to diffuse his questions by tying it all back to his tailor cover.
"Computer, disregard that request and shut down all engines."
Watch Garak, here. Robinson is taking us through an entire thought journey masterfully in seconds through microexpressions. There's surprise. Confusion. Concern. And then a realization where he thinks he's landed on what prompted this.
"I'm sorry you're upset about the orphans... I don't make the rules." "But you do play the game, don't you, Garak? And there is a game being played right now as we speak, isn't there?"
Holy fuck, yes, Julian! Finally, you are pushing back! Look, I love how much Julian can trust Garak sometimes, but it's also a bit foolish, and it's about damn time he held Garak's feet to the fire on this one.
"There are always games, Doctor." "The trouble is I don't have the slightest idea what this game is all about. So you're gonna tell me what's going on inside that plain and simple head of yours, my Cardassian friend, or we're going to sit here until we rot."
Garak looks like he wants to pin him right there. Rather than explain it all to him, Garak feeds him the information he needs to put together the pieces.
See, Garak knows that Bashir has a keen intellect. He doesn't need to tell him everything. He can simply allow Bashir to deduce it.
And perhaps this is a sneak peek of our dear Cardassian's talent for spinning tales and avoiding speaking absolute truth, but it also shows a level of trust in Bashir's intelligence.
It's the furthest Garak is willing to trust Bashir, right now, but it's still a huge leap in terms of any other relationships in Garak's life. I mean, what other friends does he have?
Sure, he initally approached Bashir hoping for a quickie or a nice man he could bootie call every so often. It seems Bashir hasn't quite taken the leap Garak had hoped in that department, but they have spent enough time together to forge some kind of bond.
And that's rare for a spy. Connections are weaknesses, you know. Which makes what these two share throughout the series all the more important for them both.
"Very good, Doctor. I'm glad to see our little get-togethers haven't gone for naught."
Again, this isn't their second time meeting, even if it is only our second time seeing them together. Gosh, I love this writing team for getting it.
"Another coincidence?" "I believe in coincidences. Coincidences happen every day. But I don't trust coincidences."
Gosh, this man can deliver a line. Also, I love the "coincidences" coming back around.
"Do you really think he purged the file on Rugal?" "I would have."
It's not an admission of his role as a spy, but it is a clue. And, if Bashir is paying attention, as much admission as he'll get at this point.
"Are you sure his name was Rugal?" "That's what we were told." *Garak perks up* "Somebody told you his name?" *Garak smiles*
I love this bit. Garak is smart, so he immediately clocks the "told" bit. And then he gets to have pride in his pet human clocking it nearly as quickly.
"Is there anything else, Doctor?"
Julian looks to Garak, who is hovering out-of-view of the Bajoran. He smiles as he shakes his head. "You did well," his smile says.
"Commander, can I ask a few questions?"
Julian walks in with Garak by his side—equals in this moment. And while Sisko earlier told Bashir off for interrupting, he knows well enough, now, that the Doctor must have something constructive to offer.
"Alright. Let's talk about children."
Look. At. The. FRAMING. Yes, we're watching Bashir square off with the menacing Gul Dukat, but framed behind them is a barely contained Garak, watching Bashir with pride.
This isn't the pride of a parental figure, but the pride one feels when their Partner gets to show everyone else what we already see in them. While Bashir has flubbed a bit through this episode, he gets to shine in this scene.
Garak always knew he had it in him, which is why he perked when Bashir stood up to him in the Runabout. Now, he gets to watch as Bashir triumphs in front of his Commanding officer and others against Garak's old nemesis—Gul Dukat.
After Julian moves away to take his place at the front of the room, the frame holds on Gul Dukat with Garak in the background. And, oh, the theater girl in me is fangirling!
Look, there are actors and then there are actors. I will never forget the first time I saw my husband on stage. We wouldn't meet for months later, but I was very bored during the second act of a University performance of St. Joan.
Every actor on that stage was talking, but nobody was listening. You can be a fine actor and get by, but those who also know how to listen and react will always have my heart.
And as the secon act droned on, I noticed one of the 12 people sitting at the front of the stage slowly remove their blindfold, turn their head, and listen.
He had maybe 8 minutes of speaking time on stage, but when I went home that night, I raved to my father about him. "The second act was dragging and then this man took off his blindfold and I thought, 'finally, there's an actor on this stage!'"
Watching Robinson, here, you can tell just how amazing he is. The director chose to keep him in-frame, likely because he recognized the brilliance. And all these years later, that remains a gift to us all.
Julian delivers the final blow, and his forceful presentation gives way to an honest smile directed at Garak, who smiles back, glowing with spousal pride as he nods.
"Truth, Doctor, is in the eye of the beholder. I never tell the truth because I do not believe there is such a thing. That's why I prefer the straight line simplicity of cutting cloth." "So, you're not gonna tell me." "But you don't need me to tell you, my friend. Just notice the details. They're scattered like crumbs all over this table we regularly share."
They have a table. They have a table! I love all these little details. Also, you can tell they've really honed in on Garak's character, here.
While his first, flirty appearance wasn't intended for a recurrence, I think they had a better idea of it, here, and thus a better handle on him. Being illusive is just part of who he is and how he operates.
"Until next time."
And he nods his head toward Bashir, and Bashir nods back. I point this out because it will come back, and I think it's just so incredible that Robinson put this in so early. Trust me, I'll point it out when it comes back, again!
It would be five months before these two shared the screen, again. I point this out only because the spaces between them working together are getting smaller and smaller.
Someone amongst TPTB realized they had a winner with this Garak character and brought him back—expanding his interactions to more of the crew.
"It all comes down to a question of loyalty. My dear doctor, Yuri had to choose between protecting his brother and protecting the state. He chose the state. As would I, every time."
Oh, this is one of those conversations that says so much about Garak for anyone paying attention (or for those of us with knowledge of the future). Watching this the first time, nobody would have known about Tain, about Garak's past, about so many things.
But from this conversation we know he's a man of the state, first. That is where his loyalty lies. Not with people. It's very revealing.
"Fishing, again, Doctor?" "Assuming you're not a spy-" "Assuming." "Then, maybe you're an outcast." "Or, maybe, I'm an outcast spy." "How could you be both?" "I never said I was either."
He's telling you, Julian! You just have to listen instead of looking for what you want to hear. In this episode, Julian may not realize how much of what Garak said in that short span was true. But, we, the audience, do.
"Before I became a tailor I went by a simple motto—never let sentiment get in the way of your work. A bit of a cliché, but true, nonetheless."
Unsurprising to any of us paying attention. But, this is a television show, so one has to wonder how this next bit is going to play out, right?
In this one episode, we've gotten to see how Garak can play both sides, how much we wants to go home, how much he hates exile. They've set it up for us to believe that Garak is going to do the wrong thing, here.
For goodness sake, Robinson was probaby peeking at the end of the script to see if this would be the one where they killed him off. It would've made narrative sense!
"I can't believe that you were once considered clever."
Oh, you Cardassian bloviator. How you've underestimated the simple tailor.
"I love Cardassia. Which is why I had to do what I did."
He said at the start of the episode that he will always choose Cardassia. And once he realized that the old frenemie ruined his Central Command-approved plan, he chose what was best for his homeworld and not what was best for him. And that, my friends, is a true act of love.
Why go into all of this when this is supposed to be a Garashir Meta? Well, because everything that happened plays into a simple, short scene between the two at the beginning of the episode.
Garak had to choose between a frenemie and the State. Like he said, he'd always choose the State. So, for once, Garak was not lying to the dear Doctor at all.
Now we get to one of my favorite Garashir episodes—The Wire. Because, let's face it, there's a lot of these two in this episode and Robinson is just... oh, chef's kiss.
PAUSE: Why was Julian Bashir my favorite character on DS9? Well, much as he was and is a gorgeous human who should be immortalized in marble, it wasn't looks. I was a child when I first watched the show, and I'm pretty damn Ace, so it's not about looks. No, it's about talent.
I long ago realized that I choose favorites based on talent. When The Backstreet Boys were big (and I learned a couple songs so I could sing along as school dances while cringing over the music videos), friends asked who my favorite was. "Brian!" I said without hesitation. "But he's not cute," my friends responded.
I hadn't even considered if he was cute. I chose him because he was the most talented.
My favorites of each Star Trek series tended to be the performers that I thought were the most talented. Siddig was unmatched, to me, amongst the main cast. It was only opposite Robinson where I saw two evenly matched performers feeding off of one another and elevating each other.
So, yes, I am gushing right now over Robinson, but accompanied by that is a baseline of being gobsmacked by Siddig.
Now, let's take that appreciation of these two giants into The Wire, which aired only two months after the previous episode featuring Garak.
"I hope I'm not boring you, Doctor." "Oh, not at all, no."
Bashir places a hand amicably on Garak's back, patting once and taking almost a full two seconds before letting his hand drop away.
"I just up late last night." "Entertaining one of your lady friend?"
C'mon, Garak. Just say it. You'd rather he be up late entertaining you. We all know it!
Also, glaring intensely at whichever higher up said, "Oooh, we need the pansexual lizard to reference the Julian is definitely all about the ladies!" Like, y'all, we can clock the queer from here. It's okay. You can totally let them be in love.
"Unfortunately, not."
Covering. This has to be covering. It's not like the good doctor can't ensnare some cutie with that boyish smile of his. But he has to play along for anyone listening along so they don't suspect his attraction to the Cardassian Spy. That's the reason, right?
"No, I was reading the last few chapters of The Neverending Sacrifice." "Isn't it superb? Without a doubt the finest Cardassian novel ever written."
Hold up. Hold up. This is boyfriend behavior. You're telling me he stayed up late last night reading a Cardassian novel? Like, he purposefully didn't go out or see anyone because he wanted to do something that connects him to Garak!?
Oh, honey. Now I see why you had to cover with that "unfortunately no ladies" thing. You're down bad for lizard boy.
"There's always Quark's." "True. But I'm really not in the mood for noisy, crowded, and vulgar today." "I suppose the Klingon restaurant is out of the question."
Is this flirty? My dear Siddig, you really played this line as flirty! And I adore it!
"Maybe if you lent me another book by a different writer-"
Again, DS9 writers doing the most with limited space. We know, now, that Garak lent Bashir the book. Some part of him wanted Julian to connect with this, one of his favorite books.
This is not Spy behavior, my dear Cardassian. This is boyfriend behavior. You crave genuine connection with Julian. This isn't fuck-town anymore where you simply want him carnally. No, you're developing feelings for the man.
In the immortal words of Whoopi, "You in danger, girl".
"It would only be a waste of time. When it comes to art, you're obviously a prisoner of Federation dogma and human prejudice." "I'm sorry you feel that way."
Do you hear how softly Julian says this? He's genuinely hurt that he hurt Garak's feelings. He wants to smooth it over by trying, again. Pain seizes Garak before they can continue.
"Are you alright?" "I'm fine." "You don't look fine. Your skin is clammy and your pupils have contracted."
The wounded boyfriend voice has lifted to the concerned boyfriend voice. Garak smiles a bit, touched by the consideration, but also trying to put up a brave front.
"I assure you, I'm in perfect health. Now, you were asking about other Cardassian books, something, maybe a little more acces-"
He's trying to divert, to change the subject. But his pain is too much for him to carry out his usual subterfuge and obfuscation.
"Perfect health? Then Cardassian standards must be a little lower than mine."
Ouch, Julian. Did you really have to take that jab at the man when he's already down!? Julian places his arm around Garak to escort him to the Infirmary, but there's no way our dear Cardassian is going to let that happen.
And then we get to the moment I had to pause the video and search Social Media. See, a name popped up that I immediately recognized. "Robert Hewitt Wolfe"
He wrote this episode. And, as I opened a tab to Bluesky, I realized that of course, I follow him... and he follows me. Me!? Why me!?
Look, loves, I'm a former VO artist and actress from Virginia who grew up in North Carolina. Yes, I grew up on film sets, but that was a whole other part of my life. I have some incredible folks who follow me on Social Media, and I've never fathomed why.
So, honored as I am to find Wolfe following me... I have no idea why!
"I only wish my humanoid patients were as easy to treat." "Did Chief O'Brian dislocate his shoulder, again?"
This is so telling. See, Jadzia can tell from Julian's tone that he's not just talking about any patient. He is pointedly talking about a patient with whom he shares genuine connection. This isn't ordinary annoyance. This is frustration.
"It's Garak. Today, at lunch, he seemed as though he was gonna have some sort of seizure. He was having trouble breathing and appeared to be in a great deal of pain. When I tried to get him to come to the infirmary, he outright refused."
All he needed was someone to open the door. In seconds, he ascertained a lot about his Cardassian friend's condition. And now he's worried. He can't let it go.
I've seen folks talk about Bashir being Autistic-coded, and as the mother of an incredible Autistic-child, I can really see it. And one thing my boy has a really hard time doing is letting go when he is invested in something or someone.
"It's that damn Cardassian evasiveness of his. I mean, keeping me guessing about his past is one thing, but when it comes to his health, I don't know. Why can't he just tell me what's going on?" "It sounds like you're taking this personally." "I suppose I am."
Oh, honey, we know you are. The game of who Garak is and what Garak's done is part of your foreplay. But knowing that he is in pain and worrying that it's going to escalate is not fun.
"It's just that Garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year, now, you would think he'd come to trust me a little."
Honey, he roped you into a midnight trip to Bajor and trusted you with the truth about that Cardassian child. Did you forget about that? Or, maybe you don't yet understand just how much trust that actually took.
He does trust you. More than he trusts anyone else on this spacestation. But your soon-to-be-beloved has a lot of trust issues, and a problem with sentiment.
And I just realized I've written "Honey" four times in this Meta so far. And, no, it isn't common in my Metas. It seems reserved, right now, for Julian Bashir. So, in case you thought I'd missed that little quirk, no, I didn't, and I have no explanation. Anyway...
"Why should he? It's not like the two of you are really friends." "Well, no. Of course not."
And Julian bluffs. He tries to brush it off. Because what they are will never fall into a simple label. It'd be convenient if it did, especially for the members of TPTB who were against this unlikely love affair.
But these two have a special bond that goes beyond any either of them has ever had. And while we only see Julian banging women on the series, this is supposed to be a more evolved time where we don't judge one another based on who they love.
So, it's unreasonable to label any character in the Star Trek universe as "straight" simply because of what we see on-screen.
Garashir hasn't been a phenomenon for thirty years because these two were friends. What they were and are is so much more complicated than that. But in this moment with Jadzia, Julian doesn't have those words and wouldn't even know where to start. So, he deflects.
"I suppose when it comes right down to it, I don't trust him, either. I mean, for all I know the man is a Cardassian spy."
Julian... honey... did you forget when you woke Sisko in the middle of the night to procure a Runabout just because Garak asked you to!? You trust him. And you're upset he doesn't seem to trust you back.
That's what this really is. He does trust Garak. And he wants desperately for Garak to trust him back. I mean, can you love someone you don't trust? Maybe. Can you love someone who doesn't trust you? Sure.
But trust is an important part of any relationship. And this episode really highlights that for Garak and Bashir.
"And if he doesn't want my help, that's his perogative."
Besides the obvious angry stab that Jadzia totally clocks, the emphasis on "my" is fascinating. Julian isn't upset that Garak isn't seeking medical assistance. It's about him. He's upset that Garak isn't seeking his assistance.
So, of course, Bashir leaves Jadzia and spies... his boyfriend asking somebody else for help. And, oh, that burns.
"You and Garak going into business?"
Busted! Nice spy work, Bashir. Looks like you have been paying attention.
"Really? I thought Garak sounded a bit upset." "Upset? I hadn't noticed. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"
Ohhhh, the jaw clench is working overtime. Julian looks like he might punch Quark right then and there. I mean, you can feel the heat coming off of Bashir, and that is all Siddig pouring it into the performance. So delicious.
"I was hoping you could give me a hand. I've been trying to access the old Cardassian medical files, but I haven't been having much luck."
Look at boyfriend Bashir using his free time to try to help his favorite Cardassian. Of course, he finds out it will take too long to get the files he needs, and you can see the frustration flash through him as he takes it in. Another dead end.
"Quark to Bashir." "This is Bashir." "Doctor, I need you in my bar, right away."
Let's talk about this, right quick. So, we all know that Bashir and Garak have been having lunch together at least once a week for a year, now, right?
So, when Garak is getting a bit out of hand and needs someone to take him home, who does Quark call? He calls Bashir. Because Bashir is Garak's person, and everyone who's paying attention knows it.
Again, this isn't a simple "friend" label. But Quark didn't call Bashir for his medical experience here. He called him for his Garak experience. And Bashir clocks the very drunk Garak as soon as he enters. He passes off his medical kit to Quark and sets his sights on Garak.
"Doctor. What a pleasant surprise. I apologize for my outburst at lunch, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Please, join me." "I think I will. May I?" "By all means... What are you doing!?"
Note the different responses to the different people. Quark and Garak have a "friendly" association, but they aren't friends. Bashir is the closest thing to a friend Garak has.
"I think it's a little noisy in here. I'd prefer to drink somewhere quieter."
As Bashir clutches the long-necked bottle, he uses Garak's own words from earlier against him.
"Why, an excellent idea. We'll go to my quarters."
Well, it's about damn time. I mean, yes, Garak did break into Bashir's quarters that one time, but this is the first time he's inviting him back to his place that we've seen.
And, Bashir, what are you doing with your face?! That open mouth. Those wandering eyes as Garak places the cork in the bottle.
"Whatever you want."
Um.... do you mean that, Doctor? Because, I'm certain the handsome Cardassian would love to take you up on that!
But, alas, nobody gets what they want (except Quark who snatches that bottle from behind Bashir's back as quickly as he can). Bashir tries to bamboozle his boyfriend into a trip to the Infirmary, but even blundering drunk Garak is still an astute Garak.
"I am not going to the Infirmary, and I refuse to play this ridiculous game."
Ah, yes, the games. A lot of their foreplay is in games. But, also, a lot of the way Garak's been forced to live all these years.
"Make it stop. Make it stop."
Because Garak really does want it to stop. The pain. The embarassment. The humiliation. The loneliness. The isolation. He wants it all to stop.
But that requires letting someone in. That requires trust. And, for obvious reasons, he's not one who naturally trusts with ease.
"Is that legal?" "It's in the best interest of Station Security. Doctor, do you want to know what Quark knows or not?" "I see your point."
Because he needs to know how to help Garak.
"Patient Garak is no longer in the Infirmary." "What!?"
I love the reading on that. It's exasperated more than surprised. Because of course that frustrating Cardassian was gonna slip out the second his back was turned. He stalks off to his boyfriend's Quarters to give him a piece of his mind... and find that he of course stole medicine.
"Ah, Doctor, what a pleasant surprise."
He meant it at Quark's. He's lying, here. He'd much rather be alone.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Oh, I love pissed off Julian. All he wants to do is help Garak, and from his point of view, Garak keeps making it worse by keeping him at arm's length.
His "What the hell do you think you're doing" screams, "Why won't you just let me help you, you foolish lizard man!?"
"Listen to me, Garak, I've had just about enough of your nonesense. Now, you're coming back to the Infirmary with me." "Oh, I don't think so. Believe me when I tell you, there's nothing you can do for me." "Oh, and Quark can, is that it?!"
Ooooh, there it is. I was right! Julian is jealous and hurt and he desperately wants Garak to trust him. Garak's eyes widen in surprise. Upon learning Quark couldn't get the item, though, Garak accepts his fate.
"Ah, well. Maybe it's for the best. My hypospray, if you please." "Another dose of tryptocederine might kill you." "Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but I'd rather have the hypospray." "I'm not gonna let you commit suicide. I'm here to help you."
But you can't force help on someone who doesn't want it. Not like this. Sure, Bashir could knock Garak out and get him back to the Infirmary, but that won't give him answers. That won't give him a path to healing. He needs Garak to open up and let him help.
"We've got to get you to the Infirmary." "My dear doctor, I have no intention of putting myself on display for the amusement of the Bajoran inhabitants of this statin." "It's not your pride I'm worried about. It's that implant you're carrying around inside your head." "You know about that, do you?"
Again, he's impressed. Julian has put in the work on this one. But this also illuminates why Garak has been so resistant to being in the Infirmary all along—he's a Cardassian. And he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is his exit.
He truly believes that Bashir cannot help him. So, why tell him anything? But the more he pushes and pushes, the more little truths slip out.
"Garak! I need to know what we're up against. If you tell me what it's for, maybe I could find some way to remove it."
There it is. We. Us. In the immortal words of Pacey Whitaker, "There's an us here, now."
Somewhere in there... Garak decides to tell the truth. At least, some of it. He leaves out his parentage, of course, but he tells Bashir about the implant, about his true torture in exile.
"Living on this station is torture for me, Doctor. The temperature is always too cold. The lights always too bright. Every Bajoran on this station looks at me with loathing and contempt."
He turned it on continuously a year before he met Bashir. So, we have never seen him at a time when he was without it. We don't have any clue what baseline Garak looks like without his happy pills. A terrifying and intriguing thought.
"So... that's it, then. You're just going to give up and let them win." "Them, Doctor?" "The Central Command. The Obsidian Order. Whoever it was who exiled you here. You're just going to roll over and die, let them destroy you, give up any hope of ever seeing Cardassia, again." "Doctor, did anyone ever tell you that you are an infuriating pest?" "Chief O'Brian, all the time, and I don't pay any attention to him, either."
I know this is not the best time, but is anyone else just waiting for these two to kiss? This is lover-level arguing, folks.
"Has it ever occurred to you that I might be getting exactly what I deserve?" "No one deserves this."
There's that soft voice, again. The one he had when he apologized for Garak thinking he had no taste when it came to literature.
"Oh, please, Doctor. I'm suffering enough without having to listen to your smug, Federation sympathy. You think that because we have lunch together once a week you know me? You couldn't even begin to fathom what I'm capable of."
He's pushing Julian away. He's trying to drive Julian off because sentiment is a weakness that Garak can't afford. Right?
"I am a Doctor. You're my Patient. That's all I need to know."
And this is one of those moments where Julian really shines. Yes, he's been a bit emotional about Garak this episode... stabbing plans and all. But, when it's time to be the cool and calm one, he does it expertly.
I can be an emotional human. Heck, I'm human, so emotion is part of the whole shebang, right? But, when there's an emergency, I'm the coolest head in the room. I don't know if it's my Disaster Relief background, my News background, or just lots of childhood trauma that taught me how to be cool-headed, but I excel at it.
And, here, Bashir has shifted into his professionalism.
See, the personal side has been settled for him, in a way. Garak let him in. Garak told him what the problem was. He now has a starting point because Garak gave him something to work with. Now, he is back to being a Doctor trying to help his Patient.
"Wrong, again. You need to know who you're trying to save."
Watch Garak's face as he turns away. He doesn't want to do this. But he feels he has to.
What good is a spy with real friends? He needs to be ready to leave at any moment, ready to kill anyone for the sake of Cardassia, ready to face his end if that is the best outcome.
Garak puts distance between them, putting the actual desk between them, even though the framing obscures it.
He tells half-truths to Bashir—enough to hopefully drive him away, to destroy his compassion, to let him die alone and tortured by his past.
Bashir feels the full weight of the words and leans against the desk for support. Garak crosses back around the desk to stand alongside him, ready for his punishment. Ready for the rejection. Ready for the inevitable loss.
And the camera moves with him. At this point, we've spent nearly 15 seconds on this shot, already. There is no switch in perspective.
We are with Garrack as he rounds the table to Bashir, as he settles in next to him, as we transition from Garak standing alone and defiant, to him leaning, defeated, and worn... but not alone.
"I hope I haven't shattered too many of your illusions."
Garak lowers his head, closing his eyes, ready for his heart to shatter as his work is done. Yes, a lot of what he said is probably true, and he thinks it will be enough to drive his one friend away.
The shot is stunning. He leans down so that their heads are almost on the same level. Bashir is heavy with possible truths. Garak is heavy with fear and trauma.
"Listen to me, Garak-"
Cutting him off, because this is the second time he's said it this scene, but the tone is completely different. Before, he was angry. He was incensed! He demanded that Garak return to the Infirmary.
This time is different. And the writer gave Siddig the space to do this so beautifully—to show the difference between Bashir at the beginning of the scene and the end.
Garak looks up to meet his eyes, unsure of what he's going to say. There's openness on his side, more so than usual. And on Bashir's, a choice has been made—one that Garak didn't anticipate for all his possible scenarios plotted in the miliseconds used to gather his story.
"Right now I'm not concerned with what you did in the past. I'm simply not gonna walk out of here and let you die. You need to turn that implant off, and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, I promise,I"ll help you through them."
Garak looks away from Bashir, his eyes darting back to the compassionate man before him. His plan failed. He didn't scare away his only friend. He looks away, unable to meet Julian's eyes.
"I need to know where that triggering device is. Where is it?"
And Garak tells him. At this point, I don't know if Garak realized that he would continue to deteriorate even after it was turned off. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't.
But I think he also realized he finally had someone in his life who wouldn't push him away, wouldn't give up on him, wouldn't denounce him when it got scary.
And the camera moves with Bashir. We've been on that same shot for an entire minute at this point. We started with Garak defiantly finishing his story, to the two of them meeting in the middle, to Bashir taking over as the man of action, going for the device.
As Bashir grasps the device, the camera pans up, Bashir in the background and a bent Garak in the foreground. Again, there's an us here, and the camerawork is helping tell that tale.
Also—over a minute of these two on-camera? That's sensational. Camera cuts can cover up a multitude of sins. From someone flubbing a line, to a case of the giggles, to bad blocking.
But Siddig and Anderson are skilled enough to handle the long take with ease. Both practiced performers who are accustomed to the unforgiving nature of the live audience on the stage, they take their characters through this journey together masterfully.
And, again, it's Anderson's reactions that really gut you. But Siddig gives him the space for those reactions to breathe. For example, when Bashir says, "Listen to me, Garak," he takes a breath, there. It gives Garak the time to gather himself, to take a breath himself, to meet his friend's eyes.
You can see Garak gathering the courage for his heart to break. Yes, he spun the tale that was intended to do just that. But, he honestly wishes it weren't so.
"Right now, I'm not concerned with what you did in the past." Garak's mouth opens. It's slight, but it's there. He's surprised.
"I'm simply not gonna walk out of here and let you die." Garak's eyes start searching Bashir's—he means it. This isn't a trick. This isn't subterfuge. He gives a damn.
"...I promise I'll help you through them." That's when Garak looks away. He doesn't feel like he deserves Bashir's kindness. If anything, he deserves to be abandoned and have his heart break before he dies alone, right?
It's such a gorgeous scene. The writing. The directing. The framing. The performing. The vulnerability Robinson lends Garak in that last minute, and the compassion Siddig pours into Bashir.
Some actors simply can't carry a scene like that, but these two meet one another, feeding off of one another, giving to one another instead of trying to dominate the space as the focal point.
And, look, for all I know these long shots are simply the result of the production schedule adjusting so there would be fewer set-ups and Robinson could get out of the Cardassian wet-suit faster. But, even if they are, they're still a wonder to behold.
"Well, that'll be all, for now. If you need to reach me, I'll be here for at least the next 26 hours."
Think about the nuance of all of this. He didn't bring Garak back to the Infirmary. He set up in Garak's Quarters to be sure Garak would be as comfortable as possible, but gave no thought to his own comfort as he's tending his patient.
Garak will be able to detox with dignity in private—save Julian. And Julian will fulfill his promise to help him through. The door chimes, and it's Odo.
"Come on, we can talk outside."
Yes, you could say that Julian is only doing this because he is in Doctor mode looking out for his Patient. But, earlier he was willing to do something illegal in monitoring Quark's private communications for the sake of information, right?
"I'm afraid your questions will have to wait."
And René Auberjonois' reaction is what makes this fascinating. He was not expecting the good Doctor to say that.
"Doctor, these are murder cases and Garak may be a suspect."
Maybe the human doesn't understand, right? Maybe if he speaks to the brilliant doctor like he's a toddler, he'll get through.
"That may be so, but he's still my patient and I'll not have him disturbed, so until further notice his Quarters are off-limits to everyone except Emergency Medical Personnel. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a patient to attend to."
Odo acknowledges it, but he looks back several times in consternation to the door as he goes. He's wondering about the good Doctor's motives, here. He is. And he's not wrong to wonder.
Yes, Julian is a Doctor tending to his Patient. But he's also a friend who made a promise that he intends to keep.
At first, Garak sleeps. There are fitful moments. And Julian watches over him. He hovers. And then, finally, he curls up in the chair and drifts off to sleep. He's exhausted. He's worn. But he wakes to the soft sobs of a Cardassian.
Can you imagine how unnerving it is for a hardened Cardassian spy to find himself crying in the presence of a weak human? A human he has trusted to get him to this point. A weakness he can't afford?
And, yes, he is under the extreme stress of detox. He has gone from reliance on this implant for two years to turning it off, cold turkey, and his system is in shock. He's going to lash out. And Julian knows it.
"Garak?" "Leave me alone." "I don't think that would be a good idea right now. Your blood chemistry is severely unbalanced. You need to rest."
Julian perches on the bed next to Garak, but they are facing opposite directions. Julian has one perspective, and Garak the other. He places a hand on the Cardassian's shoulder, and Garak lurches from it.
Ordinarily, Garak would welcome Julian's touch. Already this episode, this is the fourth time Julian has reached out to touch Garak, once as a friendly pat, and twice with the hopes of escorting him to the Infirmary.
But in his detox, Garak doesn't want touch. He doesn't want affection. He's hurting and angry and confused. But he's still Garak—weaver of tales and master of half-truths masquerading as full lies.
"Don't touch me." "Calm down."
Julian, honey, no. And, Garak runs with it. He starts destroying things—the lamp, overturning his desk with barely any effort.
"Do you have any idea what that means?" "I'm afraid I don't." "No, you don't, do you. You don't know much of anything."
Again, he's pushing Julian away. But when Julian brings up the shuttle story... the story shifts.
And we begin another long shot following Garak as he rants and raves, possessed by memory and haunted by the horrors he'd rather bury in the forced endorphines of his mind.
Robinson is monologuing. As a theatrical actor, this is not something that would be new to him. But a lot of science fiction simply didn't possess performers of this caliber at that time.
In this version, Garak is the one who made the unthinkable choice and Elim is the angry Statesman.
And this shot was 1:15 long. Yes, Robinson has the heavy work in this scene and is teaching us a masterclass on performing. But Siddig has to support without ever drawing focus. And that is tougher than it looks. Again, masters.
"And so they exiled you." "That's right! And left me to live out my day with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you."
This sounds biting, and Julian takes it as such. But, underneath that is a truth—for an entire year, Garak had nothing to look forward to on this station. At first, he spied the spry Startfleet Doctor and though, "ooh, a bit of fun!"
But, now... time with Julian is something he looks forward to. For any of us who have ever been in a tough spot, felt like the walls were closing in, were struggling through life—we understand the power of having something to look forward to.
"I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company." "Oh, I did! And that's the worst part."
Now, Julian knows that Garak is lashing out because of the detoxification. Likely, this isn't the first time he's helped a patient through this.
But they have the added layer of a friendship. Yes, it's one they both deny, at this point. Garak needs to fool himself into thinking he'd still kill Julian at a moment's notice, and Julian needs to underplay how much Garak means to him because he isn't yet ready to face it.
So, Julian averts his eyes as Garak continues, because he needs to try to keep this in Doctor mode and not take it personally.
"I can't believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face."
Staring, you say? Yeah, I know, not the best time to swoon. But, y'all, he enjoys staring at the good Doctor and just admitted it. It's cute!
"I hate this place and I hate you." "Okay, Garak. That's your prerogative. Now, I really think you should lie down."
He's barely holding onto the professionalism, here. He cognitively knows well enough that this isn't as personal as it might seem. Garak is coming off of two years of dependency on a drug to maintain his happiness that is now just... gone.
The two tussle, and another seizure strikes. It's too much for Bashir to handle in Garak's quarters, and so they end up in the Infirmary, again, where Julian tries to solve the issues of Garak's continued degradation.
And after all that... Bashir still wants to help. Garak, now calmer, listens in on the conversation. He decides to share yet another version of the story, sprinkling in some crumbs that Bashir can choose to follow—or not.
"You've done enough, doctor. More than I deserve."
But what I find incredible about this conversation, is how Garak emphasizes that he deserved his exile for what he did to his best friend. Now, anyone who's seen the whole series knows Elim and Garak are one.
But who is Garak's best friend now? Has Garak ever had a best friend? Someone he could count on?
"Why are you telling me this, Garak?" "So that you can forgive me. Why else? I need to know that someone forgives me."
The weight of this. Yes, yes. I know they're about to hold hands and be all sweet about it. But that last line is important. Because in Season 5's "In Purgatory's Shadow" Garak tells Bashir how he'd hoped Tain—the most important relationship in his life—could forgive him.
There is only one other person whose forgiveness holds weight with Garak—and that's Julian. Julian places his hand in Garak's, and Garak holds on, holding the human's gaze.
"I forgive you... for whatever it is you did."
This. Is. Art. The pause. The shrug! There's so much going on here. Because Julian is intimating he doesn't believe he knows the whole truth, even now, while still offering the absolution Garak seeks.
"Thank you, Doctor. That's most kind."
Bashir used this word at their first meeting. Kind. Not a special word, in any fashion, but it struck me hearing it again, here, said by the other party.
Garak has been pushing Julian away throughout the day, but here he invites him in, a little. We went from "Don't touch me" to an outstretched hand. We went from him deflecting Julian to offering him the breadcrumbs needed (where to find Tain, information on just how dangerous Tain is) just in case Julian can pull this off.
Julian smiles at Garak as he fades off, exhausted, tired. And then Bashir shifts into "get shit done" mode.
"Still, what you did was very brave. I'm impressed... Are all the Starfleet Lieutenants as brash as you are?"
Tain, your son chose a good man—brave and true.
"Tell me, Doctor. How sick is Garak?" "He's dying." "And you're trying to save him." "That's right." "Strange. I thought you were his friend." "I suppose I am."
Now, we can speculate that Bashir is saying what he needs to say to get what he needs from Tain. But, we could also conclude that Garak is dying, so what's the harm in admitting they're friends at this point?
"Then you should let him die. After all, for Garak a life in exile is no life at all." "Say what you will. My job is to keep him alive. And I need your help."
And we're back in Doctor mode. It worked on Odo, so it might work here, right?
"Doctor... Elim is Garak's first name."
Bashir had been holding is own against Tain rather well until this point, but that reveal rocked him a bit. Even what he thought he understood from Garak's stories is now meaningless. "Just plain Garak", eh?
But, I think it's Garak's way of separating the parts of himself and who he is. Yes, he did terrible things. Yes, he also did good things. The Cardassian is as morally grey as they get on this show. Compartmentalization is logical for one forced to endure exile while pondering past predicaments that sealed one's fate.
At lunch, a pondering Bashir twirls his fork.
"So, how's the Idanian Spiced Pudding?" "How's the spiced pudding?! Is that all you have to say for yourself!?"
Love Siddig's read on that first bit. It makes me laugh every time. He's so indignant! So frustrated.
"I, for one, Doctor, am perfectly satisfied with the way things turned out. And I see no need to dwell on what was doubtlessly a difficult time for both of us."
Say it with me, folks: "There's an us here, now".
"Here. I brought you something." "What is it? ... More Cardassian literature." "I think you'll find this one more to your tastes."
This time, he isn't using it as a divergence. This is a thank you. This is him inviting Bashir in even closer than before. No, he still won't speak in full-truths. To be honest, he probably doesn't know how.
But while Bashir didn't enjoy the first book, he realizes that Bashir's openness to trying more isn't out of some weird ideology, but because he is invested in Garak and wants to understand him better.
The trauma of what they just weathered will endure—but so will the bond they strengthened in the flames.
"You know, I still have a lot of questions to ask you about your past." "I have given you all the answers I am capable of."
And, you can almost believe him, there.
"You've given me answers, alright, but they were all different. What I want to know is of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't."
Did you note Bashir's hands? This is how he tried to place his hands the first time he met Garak, when he got caught up in the plant, when he was completely flustered.
But Julian's tone is different from any other time they've had this conversation. Partially because he is now privy to information (Garak's first name) that Garak doesn't know he's learned.
I love the detail that now that he is on a closer-to-equal footing with the Cardassian, he can place his hands like this and pull it off without effort. It says something about his character coming along, I think.
"My dear Doctor, they're all true." "Even the lies?" "Especially the lies."
Julian smiles at his friend, shaking his head as he does.
It's one of my favorite Garashir episodes, not just for the incredible writing, directing, and performances—but for how it pushes their relationship forward.
Though Julian still has questions, he has a little more to go on—and while that little may not seem significant, it is for Garak. And I think some part of Bashir knows it.
They won't see each other again until Season 3. Now, the Garak seen in "The Search" doesn't even technically exist. He's not a part of the team whose minds are hooked up to a Matrix-like simulation. But that leads me to wonder—whose version of Garak is he?
Was this version of Garak programmed in for their enjoyment? Or is he an amalgamation of their perceptions? Also, since Bashir was one of those under sedation, his reactions to Garak were real, regardless of if Garak himself was.
So, let's talk a little about how this plays out for our beloved Garashir with the understanding that Garak's characterization is coming from somewhere, but we know not where. What we do know is that Bashir's responses are 100% real.
"Doctor! Welcome back!"
Alright, maybe this should've been the first clue that something was off—what the hell is Garak doing!? He's just puttering around at some weird computer for no apparent reason, pining and waiting for his beloved to return.
"Business keeping you busy?" "The tailoring business? Or the spy business? Joking, of course." "Of course."
Bashir is beaming like he's having the time of his life. 'And he is flirting. While we don't know who dreamt up this version of Garak, we know he's got the attention of the Doctor!
"I've missed you. I've been genuinely concerned for your safety. Lunch hasn't been the same without you."
Alright. Now I'm going for Bashir-influenced headcannon because dude, that is boyfriend-level dialogue I wouldn't expect from the usually close-vested Cardassian.
Is this what Julian wants from Garak? Is this what the Changelings think Garak would say to Bashir? Whichever it is, it's revealing of either how Julian sees his relationship with Garak or how the outside world views them. Neither is particularly straight. Just sayin'.
"That's very kind of you to say so, Garak."
Because he wouldn't say it, honey. But I definitely think you want him to. And don't think I missed you slipping the "kind" in there, again.
"I'm afraid you have a loose thread right here." ... "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying yourself, Garak." "Oh, not at all, Doctor, but after years of hemming women's dresses, a little action is a welcome change of pace."
Again, this is a simulation. But, clearly someone thinks Garak will take the side of the Federation in all this, and that he will very often be by the side of his favorite Doctor.
But, also, damn, Julian is flirty today! Like, "Having fun, darling?" Tell me I'm not the only one hearing it!
"I have them! I have them. By all means, Commander, do as they say." "Garak." "Now, you heard me Doctor." ... "You see, I pretend to be their friend and then I shoot you."
Again, whoever's idea of Garak this is, it's very revealing. Yes, he appears to turn on the Federation crew... before choosing their side.
"It's just something I read once in a book." "I'm sure."
But Garak here is far too foolish, engaging in flirtation with Julian when he should have been paying attention.
Real Garak wouldn't have gotten shot, here. He would've been too focused on the mission. Real Garak always saves his quips for after the danger has passed. But Julian thinks this is real Garak... and Garak goes down.
"Garak! Garak."
Julian rushes to his side, grabbing ahold of him.
"Doctor, I'm afraid I won't be able to have lunch with you today."
As Garak slumps, so, too, does Julian. Sisko grabs ahold of Julian, pulling him away, but it takes a few seconds for Bashir to be able to look away. Is Garak dead? Are they leaving him to die?
Remember, this is all a simulation. But for Julian, this is real. He held his friend as he died. His last words were to him—a sad farewell to their future.
Sisko's tugging him, but Jadzia pushes him, too. A part of Julian is trapped there, on that floor, fused to Garak in a way that Julian hadn't considered. But there's no time for mourning.
Yes, it's all just a simulation. Julian will lunch with Garak, again. And he does on-screen, only a few weeks later.
"There you are, Garak!" "Ah!" "I went past your shop, but it was closed."
And there Garak sits, at their table. Yes, they eat other places, but this is their spot.
"How was your trip to Klaestron IV?"
Aw! They know about each other's trips and movements. They care about one another.
"Garak, you're being paranoid. Are you saying the Cardassian government would have you killed if you left this station?" "My dear doctor, you do have a vivid imagination."
And Bashir is frustrated with Garak, again, but merely noneplussed, not upset. Also, in comparison to last episode this sounds like Garak, again. Weaving half-truths, not answering a straight question with a straight answer. Welcome back, buddy!
"Oh, good evening, Doctor. If you're finished here, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a late snack."
Ah, yes, the classic excuse of using food as an excuse to be together. Food is necessary to life, yet? Even snacks can be life-sustaining at times. Hell, as a breast-feeding mother, I felt like I had to eat 24/7.
He wants to tell only Julian, but ends up having to talk to Sisko. Sorry, Garak. I know it's a lot more fun to talk to the human you want to sleep with than the one you don't.
But then he learns—higher ups want him off the station. Not only would that kill him because of Tain's orders, but it would also mean no more snacking with (and dreaming of snacking on) the handsome human Doctor.
"The Quarters on this vessel are rather claustrophobic."
Now, this might be a deflection, but I bring it up because back in "The Wire" he mentioned how cramped the Infirmary felt. Are these breadcrumbs of his claustrophobia? Happy accidents? We'd have to ask one of the writers to know for sure!
"Garak, do you know a way we can stop this neurocine gas?" "The only way to do that is to destroy the life support system."
I love this. Because Julian is the one to ask, he offers the answer, and Bashir's the only one to truly get it the first time through.
Is this because of his superior intellect? Because he understands Garak better than any of the others do? Hard to know, but our dear would-be lovers are definitely shown as being in sync.
"Well, tell me, Doctor, what it is exactly about this situation that's making you smile." "You, Garak."
Garak felt his darling's stare and looked to meet his eyes. In another situation, he might've flirted instead of demonstrated confusion. And while the Cardassian doesn't really fluster, it's one time where I feel like the Doctor has caught him off-guard.
I mean, we all love to see our crush smiling at us for no reason... but Julian's timing really sucks ass.
"Hmm?" "Just wondering how many other tailors can rewrite Cardassian security protocols." "I wouldn't even venture a guess. Which reminds me, those pants you wante altered are ready to be picked up."
Julian chuckles at Garak's change of subject—well aware, by this point, that his Cardassian friend thinks he's slick. But, ooph, there's a flirty tone to Julian in this exchange.
And don't think Garak misses it. Oh, no! It's just his hands are a bit full of Cardassian security protocols, at the moment, so the handsome Doctor will have to wait.
Also, the Yank-who-lived-in-England in me is dying laughing. While to us Americans, Garak is talking about two-legged garments that typically reach from hip to ankle, that's the American definition of "pants".
For Brits, pants refer to "underpants". So, while the writer most likely meant the former, my brain goes to the latter and has to chuckle along with Julian.
Of course Garak would like to see Julian's underpants, again (c'mon... no way he waited outside Bashir's quarters in "Cardassians" while he dressed!). But the fact that Julian is taking advantage of Garak's services is also intriguing—does he pay in Latinum? Or does he pay... in other ways?
Alright, fine. I'll stop imagining and get back to the task at hand.
"Garak groveling in a corner. That alone makes my trip worthwhile." *Garak straightens* "Garak!" "Easy, Doctor."
In real-world time, it's only been a few weeks since Julian thought he lost Garak in the simulation. He doesn't want to lose him, again.
"I should have executed you years ago." "Oh, you tried, remember?" "Garak. This isn't helping."
Julian holds Garak's gaze, though we don't know Garak's response. But this is such a lover thing to do—hold one another accountable in a moment of high-stress.
It feels like there's some exchange we miss between them based on how long it takes Julian to look to Jadzia, but I don't mind that. I don't mind that we miss it. What matters is that we knew it happened.
It will be months before we see these two together on-screen again, and Garak must not hold that last exchange against Julian because he comes bearing gifts. That's right! It's Julian's 30th birthday episode.
"Well, if you like, I can help you set up an exercise program in one of the holosuites."
Escalating the relationship, again, I see. But, truly, we've gone from lunch once a week to trusting one another in tight places, to Julian frequenting the tailor's for alterations of trousers (seriously, Jules, just ask the replicator for shorter legs! We all know it's pretense to see your favorite Cardassian between nibbles).
Now, they're considering holosuite dates. Yup. That's how I'm going to look at it through my delusional glasses! Holosuite dates.
"Speaking of holosuites..."
I want to ravish you on Risa. Not what he said? Okay, fine, I'll get back to proper transcription.
"Happy birthday."
Is there a ribbon on that!? Elim Garak, you wrapped your pet human's present!?
"I know it's a few days off, but I wanted to give you your present early."
Y'all, the former spy and ruthless mind whose morals vascilate between dark grey and light great is a sweetie! And, frankly, Julian is a bit of an ass.
Did your parents never teach you to politely say, "Thank you"? Not, "I'm not into this because it's not my thing and it's not any fun" but a simple fucking thank you when the love of your life attempts to be thoughtful.
He even knew you liked mystery novels and tried to find something he thought you'd enjoy! Sure, it was a swing and a miss, but you didn't have to be that dismissive of the lizard!
At the same time... my reaction to the time my husband gave me a dolphin kite for my birthday (no, I have no idea how he got there, either) wasn't the best. So, I'll forgive you, Julian... for now.
"Is Lieutenant Dax throwing one of her surprise parties for you this year?" "Oh, so I'm told." "Well, you don't sound enthusiastic about that, either."
You freakin' cunning lizard. You accurately deduced that your darling Doctor's reaction wasn't entirely directed at the subject matter of the holosuite program, but something else entirely.
But rather than ask outright, the old spy pokes and prods to get to the point. Wow, who ever thought I'd write that sentence about this two and not mean it in inuendo!? Not me!
"I wasn't aware that humans saw growing old as a negative experience. On Cardassia, advanced age is seen as a sign of power, dignity."
There's some heat to this statement. Like, "Darling, I'm right here and you're not jumping on this powerful, dignified Cardassian?! What's wrong with you!?"
"And, look, Garak, in two days I turn 30. If I choose to be grumpy about it, that's my prerogative."
Garak supports however Julian wants to feel about it, and it feels very much spousal, this whole conversation. Like, "Whatever you say, darling". So, when Quark comes into the middle of the conversation, Julian has to shift out of spouse mode and back to Doctor mode.
"I hope you'll forgive the interruption." "Of course."
That was to Garak... why the hell was that to Garak? And why did Garak automatically respond as if this was the most normal thing in the world?
Is this still because of what Garak did to help Quark's old flame? Is this because Quark failed to obtain the merchandise when Garak's implant degraded? Or is it because Quark"s smart enough to notice when Garak is out with his boyfriend and doesn't wish to be disturbed?
"Goodbye, Quark." "Don't take it personally. He's turning 30."
Get. A. Room. You. Two. Julian glares at his husband, and I try to contain my giggles.
Look, I've heard they were told to tone down the Garashir at some point in the show. I don't know when that occurred, but I can tell you that these two are still steaming with chemistry and attraction.
"Garak!" "Doctor! What are you doing here?"
And just like the first time around with Garak not really being here, it's someone else's idea of who Garak is to Bashir. And this version of Garak is very handsy. So, once again, someone saw these two and thought, "Yup. Banging."
"I'll meet you back on the Promenade in half an hour. Be careful." "You, too."
Look, this probably wasn't intentional—or maybe it was, who the hell knows!?—but the way their hands linger as they pass off the equipment has me going feral. Because this is all in Julian's head.
It could just be that Siddig's fingers got stuck passing it off to Robinson and they're both so damn professional that they just kept going. But, shipper-girl likes to imagine there was some feeling in those fingers.
"I'm a part of you, remember? I know what you know. Well, maybe a little more." "Still the man of mystery?" "Oh, you wouldn't have me any other way."
Look, we will find out that this isn't a part of Julian, but an extension of the attack. But Julian is still flirting hard. Even in his mind, he wants to flirt with the Cardassian!
"I did some checking on Letheans. Their telepathic attacks are almost always fatal. I guess I was lucky." "Cardassians don't believe in luck, Doctor. You survived because you're strong."
And we can get into the debate about Julian's genetic enhancements and whether that played a part. But at this moment, Garak is simply impressed and Julian is grateful.
"One thing's for sure, you know, after experiencing life at a hundred plus, turning 30 doesn't seem that bad anymore." "In that case, happy birthday."
Bashir gratefully inclines his head to Garak, no longer grumpy about the big day.
"You know, Doctor, what I find most fascinating about this entire incident is how your unconscious mind chose people you know to represent the various parts of your personality... And what I find interesting is how your mind ended up casting me as the villain."
Julian searches for words. I don't think even he knew if it was truly him or the Lethean who cast Garak in the role.
"Oh, I wouldn't read too much into that, Garak." "Oh, how can I not?"
And Garak seems to assume that Julian's mind painted him as the villain, but I really think it was the Lethean who made that choice.
He needed it to be someone who Bashir would keep close through the whole ordeal, and they definitely came off couple-y in that opening scene!
"To think, after all this time, after all our lunches together, you still don't trust me... There's hope for you yet, Doctor."
Garak leans forward, grabbing onto Julian's forearm. And a coy smile spreads across Julian's face. That's the Garak he knows.
Only a few short weeks later, we've transitioned from Julian's complaints about Cardassian literature and mysteries to Garak's issues with Shakespeare.
I can hear my English and Drama teaching husband cringing from here. He is still amazed by my ability to perform iambic pentameter while still struggling to understand why it exists in the first place.
"But I'm sorry, Doctor. I just don't see the value of this man's work." "But, Garak, Shakespeare is one of the giants of human literature."
Oh, how the table has turned (well, Garak didn't know this one over, yet, but you know what I mean). For so long, Julian simply hasn't connected with Cardassian literature—despite his tries! And now Garak is having the same issue in reverse.
And, of course, the Garashir conversation is set up for what is yet to come. They talk about a great military man who couldn't see what was going on right under his own nose... hmmm.
And I'm worried Siddig is going to barf. If you pay attention to most scenes where actors eat, then tend to take small bites/sips if any at all. That's because this scene that takes minutes to watch takes hours and hours to shoot.
I'm uncertain if Deep Space 9 ran an A Camera and B Camera simultaneously, but even then, there are so many takes to get what will satisfy a director, most times.
So, every time Julian had to stuff his face. And that means poor Siddig had to scarf down that food over and over and over, again.
"Oh, you're fortunate. I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with." "Maybe you could finish those trousers I dropped off last week."
Hah! I am cackling with glee. A little while back I mentioned the whole US/UK pants/trousers thing without any remembrance that Bashir says "trousers" here. Yup!
Unless there was a special case... don't think Julian would need Garak to alter his Starfleet-regulation underwear. Now, is there was something special he wanted only for Garak's eyes, that's another thing entirely.
"You're going to give yourself indigestion."
Garak, you and I are on the same page!
"If you hadn't been so late, I could have enjoyed my lunch."
Awww. He waited until his boyfriend arrived to get his food! That's so sweet of him. Even if he's throwing it in Garak's face now.
"I have to go, and I'm sorry to leave you while you're still eating." "No, no. I'm done as well." "But you've hardly touched your plate!" "If you must know, I've been nibbling on Delavian chocolates all morning."
Babe, why are you standing so close to your human companion? This is one of those things I tried to point out to my husband early about Garashir—they tend to stand like personal space doesn't exist.
Of course, he pulled out the "It's 4:3 framing" argument because Deep Space 9 aired at a time when televisions were still literal boxes that you tried desperately not to knock over while adjusting the bunny ears to get the channel to clear up.
But then I showed him a couple scenes where the aspect ratio should have zero bearing on that kind of blocking that puts them in kissing distance, and he had to admit... they like to get up close and personal!
"Where did you get Delavian chocolates?"
And the tone completely shifts. We can infer that these are a delicacy, and something that Bashir likes, as well. For all their disagreements on literature, it seems that chocolates are their shared interest.
Julian, a moment ago quite peturbed, is now all smiles and intrigued at the idea of sharing in a chocolate or two with the Cardassian.
"Well, I promised my supplier I wouldn't tell, but since I deprived you of your dessert, I'd be more than happy to bring some by the Infirmary later this afternoon." "Why, thank you, I'd like that." "Until then, Doctor."
Garak inclines his head toward Julian, which we've seen him do before. And while Bashir has answered in kind, it has never been as enthusiastic as this time. Every ounce of annoyance he possessed seconds earlier is gone.
There's something so domestic about that. Matthew and I can have a disagreement, and then one of us makes the other laugh so loud it melts away.
"Are you alright?"
Garak lies on the ground, and while I suspect some of his reaction is well-practiced and conceived for the purpose of his mission, Julian doesn't know that. He leans across the Cardassian, then starts a quick check of essential points.
"But I'm afraid your pants won't be ready tomorrow after all."
Ah, yes, the reminder that he's a simple tailor. But why would someone blow up a simple tailor's shop?
"Could this attempt on your life have anything to do with the reason you were exiled from Cardassia?"
There's something so perfect about this question directed to Garak as Julian is out-of-frame, only his hands working on Garak to remind us he's there. Sure, Julian doesn't know the full truth, but he knows more than they do.
And that means Julian never told anyone what Garak told him. Oh, you two are just building and building your trust, aren't you?
Julian waits until the others leave to hand Garak a mirror to inspect himself, to open his mouth, to say anything at all.
"Someone should do a study." "A study?" "To try and figure out why some people can't bring themselves to trust anyone even if it's in their own best interest."
I like the way Garak looks up when Bashir says "anyone". Because, he does trust Julian far more than he should, far more than he thought he would allow himself to.
But a lifetime of lies is difficult to abandon. No, it's his security blanket wound so tight around him he struggles for breath, but will never admit it.
"Why is it no one ever believes me even when I'm telling the truth?"
And Julian launches into more American literature... a children's story. He hopes it will get through, but the secondary interpretation of the classic Boy Who Cried Wolf only supports their entirely different views on literature.
Julian hopes Garak will learn to trust people instead of lying so much they don't believe him. But the practiced spy has already demonstrated his viewpoint during "The Wire" when the story kept changing—never tell the same lie twice.
"I am not Doctor Bashir and we are not sparring amiably over lunch-"
Well, everyone seems to know about these lunches, don't they? Now, of course Odo would keep an eye on everyone, but I still rather love this call-out.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Garak." "So do I." "Is there anything you need me to do while you're gone?" "Like what?"
Water your plants. Walk the dog. Plan our wedding.
"If you go into my quarters and examine the bulkhead next to the replicator, you'll notice there's a false panel. Behind that panel, there's a compartment containing an isolinear rod. If I'm not back within 78 hours, I want you to take that rod and eat it."
Woah. I mean, I thought I was going a little too far with the wedding planning, but apparently not. I mean, if Garak's gonna be out here in public telling Bashir to eat his rod, the wedding bells might be a-ringin' soon after all!
"Eat it?" "Mmm." "You're joking." "Yes, Doctor. I am." "Very funny." "I thought so."
Gosh, the staging of this is so interesting. Julian is usually a hair taller than Garak, but with Garak up a step, he's towering over Julian. It somehow doesn't make Julian look small, but it does cast a different light over his face as he's forced to look up at the Cardassian.
"Then these are for you." "Dalavian chocolates. But these were meant for you." "I know. I thought you might need them more than I do."
And, finally, they've found a gentle love language between them—chocolate. Literature exchanges lead to rigorous debate, sure. And fun as that foreplay has always been, there's something so soft about this moment.
"Thank you."
Garak says it as softly as he's ever said anything. Julian came here to see him off, to give him a parting gift, to be the closest friend he's probably ever had. What started out as a hopeful hookup has become a relationship that will transcend the borders of convention the more it grows.
"Good luck." "Hmm."
And while Garak doesn't believe in luck, he doesn't take the moment to remind him. Instead, he carries that bit of sweetness with him as he walks the rest of the way through the threshold.
I tend to think Julian is the one thing he misses when he leaves the station behind. The shop is his cover, and he happens to be well-skilled at it, like he is a great many things. But we already know that living on that station is torture.
Julian is the one thing that makes him truly smile, truly feel. When he's with Julian, they debate, they banter, they argue, they laugh, they go through the range of emotions and form new connections and bonds.
But, still, his heart is forever Cardassia's. We'll get to that more later...
"He hides his true feeling almost as well as you do, Elim."
A rare compliment.
"Like I used to say, 'Always burn your bridges behind you. You never know who might be trying to follow."
Hmmm. And Garak decidedly does not burn his bridges when he says goodbye at the end of the series. So, might a certain Doctor follow? Eh, getting ahead of myself, again!
"Well, I suppose Garak has taught me to think of lunch as a sort of arena for philosophical debate."
Julian and Miles are best friends, no doubt! But Julian and Garak are friends, too, just different.
I have friends I can get into deep philosophical debates with. Hell, my husband is the one who gets the bulk of it! And it seems that it's dawning on Julian that he has a different type of friendship with Garak than he does with anyone else in his life.
It's not a grand acknowledgement of romance, but it's a start. Too bad his future partner is busy abandoning him for his fucked up father. And, yes, wanting to go home is a powerful thing.
But home is often more than a place. Garak hasn't gotten there, yet. And maybe he never will fully grasp that concept. After all, it's different when you're forced from your home than when you leave of your own volition.
Back to Julian, his looks whistfully to the table. Ugh, he misses Garak. He has come to expect and enjoy their banter.
"I take it there's still no word about Garak and Odo?"
Julian doesn't know that the word is bad. Honey, your BFF is off in the stars with his manipulative, narcissistic father and choosing his true home over you.
Poor Bashir just wants to know his friend—oy, we are stretching the meaning of that word, here—is okay.
The word from Miles isn't helpful, and the Chief departs without another word to his friend. Julian looks to the table, dejected and concerned.
But he doesn't know how much Garak longs for the approval of Tain—his father. And as someone who grew up with a co-dependent, narcissistic parent... I get it. I was in my 30's before I fully broke free. I don't think Garak ever did.
"The Founders? You want to go home to the Founders? But I thought you turned your back on them!" "I did. But they're still my people. I tried to deny it. I tried to forget."
And Garak cradles his head in his hand as the Changeling returns to his true form. He did his duty to torture Odo to extract information—but that glee that Tain described earlier simply isn't there.
Yes, Garak is good at what he does. He's clever. But there's a difference between doing what you think you must do and wanting to do it.
For the first time, we really have to wonder what Garak truly wants. He has always sworn allegiance to Cardassia and to the State. He has repeatedly chosen what he thought best for Cardassia, even if it wasn't what was best for him.
But is he the same Cardassian he was? Was he ever who Tain wanted him to be? And you might think, "What the fuck does this have to do with Garashir!?" But, for Garak, his heart and allegiances will always tear him from Julian.
"What could have happened?!" "I'm afraid the fault, dear Tain, is not in our stars but in ourselves." "What!?" "Something I learned from Doctor Bashir."
And there he is, quoting the Shakespeare he so recently quarreled over with Julian.
"Welcome back." "Oh, that looks painful."
I was just thinking we weren't going to see Julian's reaction to them coming aboard, and there he is, ready and waiting. Just as he saw Garak off, he's the one who is there to receive him.
Garak stumbles a little as he walks, holding onto the railing on the wall. Then, he stumbles right into Julian as the Defiant takes fire.
Later, Garak returns to the wreckage of his shop. When he blew it up, he didn't know if he would return. Now, he has nothing on Cardassia, and he also has nothing here.
And in an absolutely stunning shot, we see Odo standing in the doorway, in the reflection, almost a reflection of Garak himself in that they both wish they could go home, but both find themselves, again, on this station—though for different reasons.
"Garak, I was thinking that you and I should have breakfast together sometime."
I include this because everyone knows Julian is Garak's lunch date. Even in this moment, Julian's somehow a part of it.
And that stunning shot is nearly two minutes long. Two minutes of continuous camera on Robinson, displaying, yet again, what a tremendous performer he is. And it's simply too beautiful a shot not to mention. Brava/Bravo to whoever conceived and executed it.
That's the end of Garak in Season 3. Though they waste no time in bringing him into Season 4! We meet him, again, in the first episode of Season 4.
"What I can't understand is their inexplicable hostility toward me... Perhaps they decided they just didn't like me." "Not like you. Impossible." "You're right. As always, Doctor."
Is it bad that my first thought watching this scene was, "Well, Julian certainly knows how to get Garak on his back anytime he wants"? Probably. But, this blatant flirting is the fun bit. And the only bit we get of the two of them, though Garak has some delicious stuff this episode.
It would be eight aired episodes later before Garak and Bashir see one another, again, but, oh, what a fun one that is!
"Who's that?" "An uninvited guest. Excuse me."
The applause has me rolling. Like, "Very good, Doctor. Excellent performance. This for sure will convince them you're straight!"
Julian crosses over the body on the floor, past the shattered glass to where Garak watches, wearing his own smart tuxedo.
"Nice tux." "Thank you." "Now, get out!"
I love that even though he is pissed at Garak, right now, he still can't miss the opportunity to compliment him.
"Ever since you received this new program you spend virtually every free hour in the holosuite. But you haven't told anyone what the program is."
His delivery on that last bit is so delicious. There's a point to every word, like a sharp edge as he takes in the ridiculous, over-the-top nature of this supposed spy tale.
"Am I supposed to?" "No, no. No. But you're such a, forgive me, a talkative man and it's so unusual for you to have secrets."
I love how he reaches out to clutch Julian's forearm and doesn't let go until he finishes speaking. And, we will later find out that Julian does have a secret, though I don't know if at this point either actor knew it.
Sometimes the actor knows the big twist or big secret, like Kristen Bell and The Good Place. But other times, they don't, like Amanda Abbington in Sherlock.
It can change up how you play something as a performer. Sometimes it's for the better, and sometimes not. It's another two seasons before Siddig beautifully monologues about Julian's childhood.
But did the writers know? Like in Sherlock, there are plenty of cases where the Writers know something and haven't yet told the actors. Happens more often than you can think! It's one of those cases I truly wonder and wish I had an answer.
"I must have picked up that habit from you."
Flirting, again, Julian!? Are you hoping it'll appease him and he'll leave you be?
"Now, if you'll excuse me-"
Julian steps over the body, but Garak steps with him.
"Is this fantasy of yours truly revealing of your inner psyche?"
Did I fall in love with a total dork, Bond-wannabe? Seriously, there's a touch of disbelief in his tone.
"What?" "Is that why you're so protective?"
Garak steps closer to Julian—far closer than needed. My husband has brought up the "It was 4:3, they had to stand close together!" argument before, but when I showed him this one, he just laughed and shook his head.
This is boyfriend space. This is, "I'm gonna kiss you if you let me" space.
"Are you afraid that I'll find out some humiliating secrets of the real Julian Bashir?" "This is a fantasy. I'm not hiding anything." "Well, if you've nothing to hide, why not let me stay?"
Somehow, Garak still finds a way to talk with his hands without brushing Julian's chest—which, let's be real, is totally on his mind at all times—and Julian keeps his eyes locked on Garak's.
Garak notes Julian's lack of quick response and quirks his head to the site, a smile crossing his features. He knows he's got him where he wants him.
He once interrogated a man by staring at him for hours. Now, those same eyes turn puppy-dog as he entices his human bae to let him get his way. And Garak gets his way.
"All right." "Ah."
And the Bond girl wannabe is pissed. Not only is she not getting laid, now she has to compete for the sexy man's attention with a dashing Cardassian.
"Now, I have to be at work in two hours, and I'd like to enjoy myself, so keep quiet and don't rain on my parade."
That last bit is pointed. This is like when I have to remind Matthew not to make fun of me for watching super cheesy Christmas movies at Christmastime. I'm so stressed with work and family drama that I need something that just makes me smile.
Julian needs his would-be hubby to be chill so he can have some much-needed fun that doesn't require him to be everything he is. For a little while, he wants to be something he isn't just to unwind.
Gosh, I feel that. So, c'mon, Garak, let your boytoy have his fun.
"Parade?" "Nevermind." "Don't worry, Doctor. I can be very discreet. You'll barely know I'm here."
Are you thinking you're going to watch him have sex? Like, just how discreet do you need to be right now!? But, even though the Earth-ian reference went over Garak's head, he has committed to this, now. The Cardassian is along for the ride.
"She seemed so interested in your advances just a moment ago. I wonder what scared her away."
Julian and I have the same thought: Really Garak!? As if you don't know what scared her off?
"Oh, no. I do apologize."
Now, in another version of this show, Julian would realize that the reason that things just keep not working out with him with other people—virtual or otherwise—is that he's got it bad for a certain lizard man.
"You must be incensed! In fact, if I were in your shoes, I'd grab a bottle of champagne, and shoot me." "I can see I'm going to regret this."
First off, Garak's interpretation of Bond films isn't too far off my own circa 1990's era Bond. Also, way to be transparent about your kinks, Garak!
Now, Julian could just rescind the permission to hang out, but he doesn't. Why not? I don't think he's worried about being rude to the Cardassian. Perhaps, though, he wants to prove to himself that he has nothing to hide.
Garak claps a hand on Julian's shoulder as they walk.
"Don't worry, Doctor. We're going to have a wonderful time. After all, what could possibly go wrong?"
Classic line, here. Famous last words. If ever you're watching a movie or television show and someone utters a "what's the worst that can happen?" or "what could possibly go wrong?" just know—the worst is about to happen and everything is going to go wrong.
"You live here?" "That's right." "Decorate it yourself?" "The decor is appropriate for the period—1964."
I love how much fun Garak is having with this. He's taking it all in and soaking it all up. This place is far more cluttered than Bashir's quarters in real life, which Garak broke into and probably memorized in case he ever needed to plant something on the unsuspecting Doctor.
"I think I joined the wrong intelligence services."
It's so nice to be so far beyond Garak having to hide his past allegiances. Yes, there's intrigue left with the ole Cardassian, but I like how casual these two are conversing.
And I love how Julian is lounging. Maybe it's his character. Maybe it's simply the way he sits on a couch like this. Who knows!? But, is suggests an openness and swagger that isn't forced like his earlier characterizations, but simply an extension of who he is.
"Yes, this should do nicely. Though I'm not too sure about the collar." "It's perfect."
I have so many questions. Look, Holodeck stuff has always been a little fuzzy to me. Like, did they replicate some clothing? Or did they ask the system to assign them new clothing? Can they wear these clothes off the holodeck?!
And if these are completely new clothes, would this mark the first time Julian's seen the Cardassian in a state of undress? We know Garak woke Julian in his jammies, once, and that he's fitted him for trouser alterations at least twice. But there's been no opportunity for Julian to see Garak in a state of undress until now.
Also, this is such a spousal exchange. Garak is the one fussing over his attire and aching for perfection, while Julian is the assuring one, telling him that he looks fine.
"Very funny."
Aw, nice to see the return of this phrase from Julian. But, no, honey, this isn't a joke. Garak really isn't trying to rain on your parade.
"You're bleeding." "The Holosuite safeties must be off."
Ever the Doctor, Julian's concerned about his favorite patient before he has to save another life.
"Try to stay cool, Mr. Bashir."
I love how as soon as not-Sisko leaves, Julian looks to Garak, who is definitely concerned about this situation.
"I'd give you both some privacy, if I could."
Garak, my love, you know you can at least turn around. No, you want Julian to know you are watching him.
"Kiss the girl, get the key. They never taught me that in the Obsidian Order."
I love how impressed Garak is with Julian. He just picked a freakin' 20th century lock! Like, that isn't an essential course at Starfleet Academy!
"Yes, they might be killed, and that is unfortunate, but there comes a time when the odds are against you and the only reasonable course of action is to quit." "Quit?" "Yes!" "Is that what they taught you in the Obsidian Order? To give up when things get tough?" "As a matter of fact, they did."
It's a real argument. And I'm one of those that things disagreements are healthy in relationships. Now, this exact scenario is a bit specific, but it still stands. These two were due for their first real fight.
"Don't." "Or what? You'll kill me?"
He really doesn't believe Julian will pull that trigger. Much as Garak recommended shooting him earlier, that was before the security protocols went down.
"You'll be fine. It's just a flesh wound."
And here, Garak sees that Julian can make that call. Garak told him earlier that he might have to make a hard choice, that he might not be able to save everyone. And while I don't think Garak thought he'd be the one going down, he's impressed. And all the fire of their argument has died.
"That was awfully close. What if you'd killed me?" "What makes you think I wasn't trying?" "Doctor, I do believe there's hope for you, yet." "I'm so relieved."
Garak's impressed. Garak's surprised. Garak's really turned on.
I mean, Julian's dropped his voice into this husky range he hardly ever uses, and it is working its magic on the Cardassian. If they weren't in mortal danger, he might've asked the Doctor to take him right then, right there, against the wall.
"Now, we have to get to the control room. Are you coming or not?"
And like quarrelling lovers, they don't have to discuss or announce the end of the fight. Both of them know it's over, and Garak won't be calling for the door, again.
"Well, who am I to question Julian Bashir, secret agent? Lead on!"
The way that Cardassian is looking at that Human... he wants to lick him up with a spoon. He wants him in every way and none of them clothed. He's too horny to protest the mission.
Shoot me? Oh, darling, I'm yours! Look, everyone has their kinks. No shaming Garak's!
"I'm an intelligence agent,a nd if there's any one thing I've learned it is that there comes a point when the odds are against you, and there is no reasonable course of action but to quit."
Oh, darling, you were listening! Seriously. That's Garak's look as he watches with pride.
"How do you think I've managed to stay alive so long when all of my compatriots are dead? It is because I have known when to walk away."
I have a somewhat photographic memory...but it isn't that good. Yes, I'm aware this is a television program, Julian has a genetically altered brain, and it's all a flight of fancy. But, it's still dang impressive.
I mean, if Garak wasn't already horny for honey, he's positively bursting with desire, now!
"I suppose the only thing left to do, now, is to kill you."
Watch how Garak responds to that, ready to leap, surprised by how steady Julian is standing, waiting for the shot. It's only a simulation, sure, but one with the safeties turned off. The good Doctor could die. And he's not running from it.
"You can leave the Holosuite, now." "Thank you."
It's another long Garashir shot. But these two seasoned pros can handle it, and they carry each beat of the scene through—from returning to the banter of who's teaching who, to their next lunch.
"Lunch tomorrow?" "Of course."
Julian's the one to broach it, signaling he'll forgo a lunch on the holodeck if it means time with Garak. Then, Garak turns it on his head, offering to return to the Holosuite with him.
This is so fucking couple-y. How many times do we go back and forth with our partner, both trying to make the other happy? Both trying to make the other feel seen, and heard, and valued?
"Oh, I think it's safe to say Julian Bashir, secret agent will return." "Mmm."
And while it's not a full minute on this shot, it's still another delightful one where these two nail blocking with no markers I can see, and remind us just how good they are.
I think this episode was important for them both. The first time Julian stood up to Garak in "Cardassians" was important. He needed to demonstrate he wasn't subservient to the Cardassian, that he was a critical thinker.
This, too, was important. Because from the moment they relaized the safety protocols were disengaged, the game changed from harmless to extremely dangerous. And Garak didn't know if he could trust Julian to make the tough call.
Nothing in their relationship has ever put them in this place—where they are actually facing down death side-by-side.
When Garak chooses to save himself, it is a bit selfish, sure. He has made these choices, before, to stay alive. But once he knows that Julian is solid, he's solid.
Yes, he's horny as fuck when Julian grazes him with a projective object. But he is also impressed. If Julian was willing to shoot him, who he knows considers him a friend, then he's ready for whatever they are going to face.
Garak needed that assurance. And then when Julian was willing to let Sisko kill him if it meant saving everyone else, he got to see what a hero truly looks like. Like he said, he's no hero. But Julian just might be, at least in Garak's eyes.
The next time these two get to share a scene it's been months and... it's weird. Look, I never got the whole "Let's pair Garak with a probably-teenage girl" plan. It's creepy. It's weird. It's a fucked up plan to try to convince anyone he's straight.
Like, would he get with a woman? Sure. But that lizard wants to be with adults, please. And he's been pretty fixated on Bashir for a bit, hoping the good Doctor realizes his horizons have already widened and when he does, spreads his legs in kind.
As a girl who was 13 when this aired and who was assaulted by her grandmother's friend the year before, this just didn't play. So, maybe my perceptions are a bit colored on this one, but I just couldn't get behind it. It creeped me out.
Let's get back to flirty Garashir, shall we?
Now, we are setting up the above-mentioned quesitonable relationship. Now, my husband and father both said they always saw it as Garak wanting to take care of her in a parternal way. But as a girl, I saw it as something far seedier. Let's see what I think on this watch, shall we?
Y'know what, screw it, I'm just focusing on the Garashir. Because these two are being adorably married right now!
Garak and Bashir are doing something social besides lunch. They're attending a sporting event together! And this definitely feels like one of those things that one attends for the sake of one's spouse.
Matthew and I are blessed to have a lot of overlap in our interests, but there are times one of us is in a sitution—usually Matt—where there are definitely other things he could be doing, but his want to be with me overrides his desire to be elsewhere.
In short—Garak tagged along for his boytoy's choice of entertainment.
"Stop watching her."
Oooh, someone's jealous! Julian, darling, Garak had to watch you make out with half the senior staff. You can simmer down about him glancing at someone.
"What does she expect? She's the only Cardassian woman on the station. She's must know she's bound to attract some attention." "Some, yes. Yours, no."
Wow, Julian! Getting a bit possessive of your favorite Cardassian, are we? Or do you worry Garak's just trying to stir shit up with his favorite rival, Gul Dukat?
And that pointed look Bashir offers Garak reminds me of the last time he had to be firm with Garak (that time in front of Gul Dukat) about something. This is partner-level shit.
"I simply thought it would be polite to say hello, but clearly you don't think I'm capable of conducting any kind of pleasant discourse without some kind of nafarious ulterior motive."
Garak is getting a bit defensive and worked up about this. But, I'm focused on Julian, who is giving the, "really, now!?" look that any spouse knows well. Like, we're arguing about this now!?
And Julian gets so into Garak and giving him his full attention that he misses the big finish.
"What happened?" "A brilliant move on the part of the Major. You should have been paying attention."
Yeah, you cannot tell me Garak suddenly developed a love of the game. He did that to be bitchy because he's annoyed with his human boytoy.
Garak is used to having the upper hand in most situations. There are a few who he treats on a more equal footing—most notably Odo, Quark, and Bashir—and I find it interesting that those are the only three actors I truly think can match Robinson in skill and performance.
This is not to speak ill of any of the other performers. Not at all! But there are always standouts in any production. As mentioned before, that's how I first noticed my husband on the stage—he was mezmerizing.
Andrew Robinson is exceptional. The layers to his performance are what makes Garak really pop off the page and onto the screen. Garak was my father's favorite character of the series and he was not even a series regular, but a guest star whose impact on the show is unmistakeable.
Julian was my favorite character of the show, as mentioned before, but part of what made him thus was Siddig's performance. We'll get to some more meaty episodes for him later, but he has that defining trait of every great actor—we believe him.
So, when you put these two on-screen together, it's exciting. Even in this scene where we're setting up Garak and Gul Dukat's daughter, I can immerse myself in the relationship between these two characters because they never lose sight of all the moving pieces in the scene.
Yes, there's a sports match. Yes, we are reminding a 90's audience of who the fetching young Cardassian woman is. But there's also the interpersonal relationship between Garak and Bashir that is at play. How they relate to one another as characters informs how they react to the outside stimuli. As I said—masters.
"Garak to Doctor Bashir, I need a medical emergency team sent to my shop immediately."
There's so much at play, here. This is just expertly written. Someone who really understood Garak's character.
Annnnd, I just checked and it's Robert Hewitt Wolfe, again. Of course! But, honestly, this just encapsulates so much about Garak in about three seconds.
Yes, he is calling his darling directly and not the Infirmary. But that's not just because he thinks Bashir is cute. Let's break this down.
First off, Garak immediately reaches for Odo's combadge instead of leaving the shop to get help. That's quick thinking. Second, he called Julian directly and then asked him to send an emergency medical team to his shop.
Garak is thus reaching out to someone he knows will take him seriously, who won't ask questions, and by being vague, the Cardassian has protected Odo's privacy.
Think about it—he doesn't know where Bashir is when he calls. What if he is with a criminal who might want to take advantage of Odo being out of commission?
This is all of Garak's skills at play, here. And it's all done in about three seconds. Fucking masterful.
"As I recall, Proconsul Merrock was poisoned." "Funny, I don't remember that. But, then again, so many Romulan dignataries died unexpectedly that year." "Must be hard to keep them all straight."
Wait... is Bashir in on this? I mean, I imagine he must have some idea of why the Cardassian was allowed on the trip, right?
"Maybe we should let the Constable get some rest."
Oooh, he's got his "honey, not now" voice on! So, Julian's not in on the game. Which means a moment ago he really was getting caught up in the story, true or not.
But with that glare, he is clearly trying to silence the Cardassian. And it drips with the sexual tension between two people who are banging and look forward to some makeup sex after the argument, or two people who probably should be banging to cut through some of that sexual tension.
And after Odo dismisses him, you can hear Julian hiss out an annoyed sigh. It's not at Odo—it's at Garak. Because he's blaming Garak for winding up his patient.
So why does Bashir think Sisko allowed Garak on this mission? Out of the goodness of his heart?
"How do I look, Doctor?" "Does it matter?"
Honey, your Cardassian lover is asking you if he looks cute and you respond with does it matter?! What is wrong with you!? Tell the man he looks fashonable and kiss him full on the mouth, already.
"Then, I'll be right outside... it can wait, Garak." "Of course."
It's another case of Julian getting the upper hand with Garak—and he lets him. Oh, we all know that Garak doesn't willingly give up the upper hand unless he wants to. And he likes when Julian is the dominant one between them.
Yes, there are times when Garak likes to be the authority—always trying to teach Julian things. But theres a shift in Our Man Bashir where Garak realizes he may have a thing or two to learn from the handsome Doctor.
I think it's the one relationship in his life where he enjoys someone else being on top. *ahem* And, no, I didn't write that sentence intending the inuendo. But once it was written, it was right there!
It takes until episode 8 of Season 5 for us to see Garak, again. Julian beams onto the Runabout and does a cursory glance over the crew. His eyes hang noticeably on Garak.
No, I'm not making this up, folks. He really does linger on looking at Garak before shifting to the crew member nearest him to start scans, which is what he should do.
"Could these stimuli cause more serious injuries?" "I don't think he could spontaneously break a bone, but he could certainly stop his heart or break a key blood vessel in his brain."
What the fuck was that, Siddig!? I mean, rewatch that last bit. I know I did several times. Yes, Bashir is listing off factual information, but at the very end there is a tinge of sadness.
Because while only Garak has demonstrated this so far, it could happen to any of the four. But he's still talking solely about Garak. And he's looking right at him.
That has to be actor choice, right? That he played it with such softness and sadness while looking in the direction Garak would be.
Fun Fact: Andrew Robinson likely wasn't even in the room. The way film and television is staged, the best way to do it is to shoot out the actors you don't need. Start with the angles that need the most people and then whittle down to the shots with the fewest cast members.
So, those eyelines are often an actor looking at nothing. Even looking at nothing Siddig lends a weight to that fraction of a moment that has me kicking my feet, giddy as a schoolgirl.
Another few episodes, and we get to the episode where we have the Changeling playing Bashir.
Now, the last episode Julian was wearing the uniform the real Julian is wearing later, so I like to think that the Bashir who was so concerned about Garak was our Bashir, and that he was replaced shortly after.
Timeline-wise, that about lines up. And while we will come to know that the Bashir that Garak addresses on the Runabout isn't our man, Garak doesn't know that at the time.
"I really must remember to stop underestimating you, Doctor... You've come a long way from the naive young man I met five years ago."
A compliment. Trying to smooth things over with his darling.
"They're releasing him from isolation." "Good." "Who?" "A friend."
And as they shove him into a wall, who should look up but the real Bashir. And who does he see? Garak. I mean, look at the laser focus here. Julian's eyes don't shift once they find Garak's.
And as Julian pricks his finger for blood, it's Garak who watches with the most interest. He needs confirmation that this is his dear Doctor.
And as soon as they are reunited... they can't stay apart.
"I should never have come here. I should have let that monster die forgotten and alone." "Frankly, I'm glad you came. Misery loves company."
And Julian truly is miserable in a way he's probably never known before. But now he has one of his best friends, at least, in this darkness.
"All my life I've done nothing but try to please that man. I let him mold me, let him turn me into a mirror image of himself. And how did he repay me? With exile."
I know this doesn't seem like it's Garashir coded, but it is. And I will explain why... in two episode's time.
Look, you don't have to wait two weeks and watch a thirty second clip looking for clues! It's just a scroll or two down and I'll explain why I transcribed Garak's rant about his father.
Yes, this is a spoiler-sprinkled Meta, so if you didn't know: Tain, you are the father!
"But I forgave him. And here in the end I thought maybe, just maybne he could forgive me."
This takes me right back to The Wire and a dying Garak saying he needed to know that someone forgave him. So, we can infer that if anyone's opinion matters anywhere close to his father's to him... it's Julian's.
"I've been a fool. Let this be a lesson to you, Doctor. Perhaps the most valuable one I can ever teach you. Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all." "If that's true, it's a lesson I'd rather not learn."
Listen to the softness of Bashir's voice. Look at how he looks over Garak in that moment, clearly pitying whatever drove him to say such a thing.
And the director gives them a beat, here, where they regard one another before the moment is broken. Look how Garak pulls his head back ever so slightly and his eyes widen as he takes in Bashir's words.
There's a charge here between the actors. A moment. A beat. A breath where something is given that others might have taken.
A lesser director might have broken the moment too earlier. A lesser actor might have missed what was there. This is about so many factors coming together to deliver a beat that means something.
Great television isn't about awards and acclaim—it's about something undeniable on the screen that is the culmination of hundreds of folks working together to produce something that steals our breath.
You don't see the gaffers, electricians, camera folks, Production Assistants, Craft Services people, writers, directors, makeup artists, hair stylists, costumers, Directors of Photography and more that bring every second of screen to life. But you see their work without realizing how much went into it.
That beat between Bashir's line and the door opening is important. It tells us who Julian is and the lines he isn't willing to cross. This is a lesson he refuses to learn. And Garak doesn't hate him for it. No, he envies him.
Julian's optimism and can-do attitude sometimes drive Garak nuts. Garak tends to think he lives closer to reality than those who drank the Starfleet Kool-Aid (or Root Beer, as the case may be). But there are times he must think, wouldn't it be nice?
"I thought you might want to know... if you wish to speak to Tain, do it now before it's too late."
There are no words exchanged between Julian and Garak. The Cardassian looks briefly to him before taking off for the door, the human close behind.
"Everything's gone dark. I can't see you. Are you alone?"
Garak could ask Julian to leave. But he doesn't. He doesn't know what type of conversation is about to come... and yet he trusts Julian completely.
We've talked about trust and Garashir before, back on the Holodeck. Of course, Garak hasn't had many people he could trust in his life. But much as he wishes he was as hardened as his old man—he's a bit sentimental.
Sentimenal about Mila. Sentimental about Tain. And sentimental about Julian. He's even started to care for other members of the crew... but not like this. No, this is intimate. This is trust.
Garak looks back to Bashir, making it clear that he wants him there, that he needs to be silent, that he's not asking him to leave. Julian widens his eyes briefly to let Garak know the message was received.
"Yes. There's no one else but you and me."
Tain goes down his list of grievances, and Garak tells him everything's in order.
"All your enemies are dead."
He says this, again, to Julian. It feels like part of the show. Are they really all dead? Who's to say. But Garak tells Tain they are.
"Then you can die happy... unless you still consider me your enemy."
He's fishing for that apology he so desperately wants. And the view shifts to a three-shot. It's the first time we get a really good look at just how intimate this is, Julian looking on as these two men share a private conversation.
It's an interesting choice to pull out right then, right before it gets incredibly personal. The staging reminds us of just how close Bashir is to the action.
"I'll do as you ask... on one condition. That you don't ask me this favor as a mentor or a superior officer, but as a father asking his son." "You're not my son!" "Father! Father, you're dying. For once in your life, speak the truth."
Julian leans forward, taking in the new information, looking between the two of them. He's absorbing what Garak's just done—and he's realizing it's intentional. Garak purposefully let him in on one of his greatest secrets.
For all the times Julian asked for truth and found it wanting... here Garak offers it wholeheartedly.
For goodness sake, we never even saw Julian comment on Garak's first name. But Tain calls him "Elim" repeatedly, here. So, if Garak hadn't figured Julian already sussed out that little nugget, he was willingly offering that Elim wasn't a friend at all... but him.
Death beds are often a place of truth, right? But for Garak, the truths told weren't the ones he needed to hear, but the ones he wanted to tell.
"I should have killed your mother before you were born. You have always been a weakness I can't afford." "So you've told me. Many times."
And now the impact of Julian's words hit the viewers anew—Garak learned the lesson of sentimentality as weakness from his Father. He tried to pass that lesson on to the person whose opinion matters most next to Tain's—and Julian rejected it.
Bashir stopped the cycle. And I think that caught Garak off-guard. Like on the Holodeck when he admitted there were some things the Obsidian Order never taught him... he's learned something, today, from the good Doctor.
And, look, I know this is a Garashir meta, but I have to call out Andrew Robinson for this scene. It's fucking gorgeous.
We already know he is just one of the finest actors to ever grace Star Trek with his presence. But the weight of this whole scene hits so hard. The emotions. The breaths. The emphasis. The line reads. Oh, it all hits the mark.
My mother never said, "I'm proud of you" when I was growing up. I rarely saw pride on her face, even. There was always some problem, some critique, some improvement. She wanted me to be like her, and lamented when I wasn't.
She's not the same person, now, but that doesn't change the past. And in this moment with Elim and Enabran where the son hears his father utter the words that he was proud of him. Oh, it aches in a way that only those of us who grew up craving that approval and always falling short despite our best efforts can grasp.
And Robinson nails it.
Julian hears this whole exchange. He hears every word. And he only speaks after Tain has fully faded. It's a single word:
"Garak."
It's wise of the production team to keep Bashir out of this intimate exchange until after Tain dies. We don't need the distraction of seeing Julian there.
Yes, yes. I love Julian, too! But that wasn't his moment. And the way it was edited and shot was brilliant storytelling that allowed us to invest in that intimate moment before pulling back out to the continuing plot of the episode.
I seem to remember something about non-Cardassians seeing a dead Cardassian body, so it's appropriate that Garak covers Tain up before anyone else comes in—but Julian saw.
This. Is. Trust. This is family. This is an intimacy that transcends, "I wanna fuck this guy" from Episode 1. Garak wanted Julian to know him in a way that probably only his mother and father ever did.
Tain is now gone. Mila is on a planet he cannot visit. But he still has Julian. And now Julian knows one of his greatest truths. Beyond things he's done and places he's been, the truth of being known for who he is... that is truly dangerous. But Garak trusts Julian.
And though the two Klingons don't know exactly what has transpired, they do know that Julian was present as Tain died. They do knot that whatever Garak had to say to Tain, Julian was present.
As much as Odo knew better than to invite Garak for lunch, I think Worf knows better than to ask why Garak would allow Julian to be present for such a thing. Really exemplifying the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" of the era.
And if you're too young to remember that particular Military Policy, I'd recommend checking out the Wikipedia entry on it, because it's pretty thorough.
By the next episode, we're all ready to learn how they get out of this one. And while the gang explains to the newcomers what needs to be done, we get treated to this adorable two-shot of Garak and Bashir.
Look, there is no reason for them to be in this cute two-shot besides the fact that they look adorable together. We trade Garak out for Worf, which isn't as cute (no offense, Michael Dorn! You're amazing!).
"You, on the other hand, my dear Mr. Garak are a man of many hidden talents." "Mmm."
Look, I know we're all on a hurtling asteroid waiting to die, but did anyone else's brain get broken by that statement?
We've had at least four "My Dear Doctor"s, but this is our first "My Dear Mr. Garak". Also, the return of "Mr. Garak" for the first time since the first episode. And my brain totally added the classic fortune cookie add-on of "in bed" to Julian's statement.
Especially with Garak's reaction? C'mon! That's a total, "you would know, dear" look!
"As of today, Cardassia has joined the Dominion."
For the brief second that Garak thinks he's going to be released, he looks back to Bashir. And the two have an entire conversation with glances.
There's the, "Is this okay? Should I go?" and the "Yes, dear, go!" and the "Alright. I'm going". And I can't help wondering if this was in the script.
This one owes its existence to Ira Steven Behr and (of course) Robert Hewitt Wolfe. So, one of them could tell us, of course! But it's one of those moments that is so amazing, but really could have come from anywhere.
An actor making a choice. A director spotting an opportunity. A writer making a point.
Wherever it came from, I love it. We don't see what Worf thinks about this possibility because we don't need to. Garak and Bashir have the conversation without words and say all that needs to be said and heard.
Side Note: Before we get into the first "Garak in the wall" scene, I have to call out Alexander Siddig (again) for how fucking dead-eyed he is as the Changeling. Like, one shot and I'm reminded that this is not our Julian and that fucker needs to die. Oy vey!
"Garak? How's it coming along?"
I love that Julian is the one who opens the door. Julian is the one who keeps the path out open. Julian is the one who sits there, calling in to Garak. And I love that he's playing with his fingernails when the scene opens.
It's those bloody details that have always stood out to me about performers. When they do something so human in the midst of all the posturing of performance. When the character becomes as real as the actor. It could just be that Siddig was annoyed by a hangnail and I'm reading too much into it, but I love it, nonetheless.
Also, the establishing shot of Garak is so gorgeous. That pan up? The full body shot so we can see that there's no room to sit, no room to rest, no room to shift into a more comfortable position.
We can visually connect with the claustrophobic nature of the setting even before we know Garak has an issue with tight spaces.
And that lighting. They found a way to make that read as a single light source in such a beautiful, believable, and stark way. We see the darkness threatening to envelop Garak if not for that blossom of lights at his face.
Yes, I know this isn't necessarily Garashir. But we need to know what this space looks like for later.
"Oh, come on!"
Julian is anxious to get Garak out of the wall, and this is before he knows about the Cardassian's claustrophobia.
They already said that Garak was taking too long because they don't want him to be caught in the wall. The guards are already asking questions, so they need to get him out.
As soon as they can get him out, Julian is there to help him stand up, holding onto him, being there for him.
"That was thoroughly unpleasant." "Are you alright?"
Until Garak takes a step back with his patented "I'm fine" lie, Julian still has hold of him with both his hands.
"It's just much hotter in there than I thought. I go ta little light-headed."
Elim [No Middle Name] Garak! That didn't work before Julian had a better understanding of Cardassian biology and physiology. Do you really think you can fool him, now?
Before Garak can finish the sentence, Julian has his hands on him, again, this time checking his pulse. And I cannot recall him ever doing so this way before. Really putting his new knowledge to work!
But theres also the steadying hand on Garak's shoulder. It reminds me of him trying to put a hand on that same shoulder in The Wire and Garak shying away in his withdrawal state. Here, he doesn't move away.
"Maybe you should wait until tomorrow."
Julian's hands trail off of Garak, but they don't fall away. They glide down him before Garak allows his fear to turn to anger.
"Do you want to get off this hell hole?" "You know I do." "Then let me get back to work."
The couple-y bickering is back. And they are standing way closer than needed for this shot, 4:3 framing, indeed! But Julian is in protective mode—both the doctor in him, and the lover friend.
"Rest. For five minutes. And from here on in, you can take a 15 minute break every hour. Doctor's orders."
Garak nods. He's relenting. He's giving in. He'll take whatever break he can get and he knows Julian well enough now to know that he won't give up on him.
But look at the concern in Julian's eyes. He knows Garak isn't telling him everything. He doesn't know what Garak is concealing this time. But it's incredible how this mirrors The Wire.
In both cases, Garak is trying to conceal something about himself and lashes out at Julian when the Doctor tries to push the issue.
But this time when Julian tries to help, Garak lets him. He doesn't fully let him in. But he doesn't push him away, either.
"I'm sorry, but that's absolutely unacceptable. I'm under enough strain as it is. I can't have you quitting on me!"
There are already tears in my eyes. For anyone who has ever had a panic attack and wishes desperately their rational mind could circumvent it, this is familiar.
I've struggled with panic and anxiety attacks my entire life. But growing up, I wasn't allowed to show negative emotion. I had to learn to contain it as best I can.
But no matter how much your rational mind protests, that suffocation comes and you find yourself trapped in its grip, unable to escape. And this is another case where you can trust your actor with the material, and he's going to fucking deliver.
Robinson is talking to a dying light. He has no one to feed him anything, to offer him anything, to draw focus in case he should flub it. No, the seasoned and practiced actor monologues on a Star Trek show to a dying light and to himself.
"Your friends are nearby."
Truth. Garak speaks truth. And even if some part of him isn't willing to trust it, he closes his eyes as he internalizes it. His friends are nearby.
Because in this tight, enclosed space... there's no one to overhear. There's nobody listening. There's nobody for whom he has to perform. These words are for him and him alone. And in them he speaks of Julian and Worf as friends.
I won't transcribe the whole thing, but even from the outside, the others know something is wrong. Of course, it's Bashir who shimmies into the wall to join Garak.
"Garak, you have to stop. You're making too much noise. Garak!" "The light. The light went out."
And that's when Julian starts to put together the pieces. He sees the vacant look in Garak's eyes. He notes the sweat and strain.
"I know. Come on. I think you can take your break a little early."
Julian puts an arm around Garak, clasping his hand on the Cardassian's shoulder. And as they shimmy, Bashir's thumb grazes in a comforting manner over it.
Garak doesn't fight him. In The Wire, when Bashir tried to comfort him and touch his shoulder, he jerked away. But here, even as he is not fully himself, he allows the Doctor to care for him.
Growth. Character development. Trust.
"We have to come up with a new escape plan." "That won't be necessary."
Julian's eyes shift to Garak with immediate concern as the Cardassian stands up. He doesn't move the blanket, but allows it to slough off his body like old skin.
A similar blanket covered his father's dead body. But as Garak sits up, he rejects that fate. It isn't the defiant move of throwing the blanket away, because that's not what Garak is doing, here.
He isn't trying to be the hero. He's trying to overcome his fear long enough to save them.
Where before he might have tried to save himself, he's trying to save all of them. He could program the runabout transporter code just to get him out of there. Garak of Season 1 or 2 might've done that. But this Garak has friends—friends he wants to save.
It isn't about being the hero. It's about each of them doing what they can to help each other get out of there alive.
"I just have to finish what I started. After all, a verse about the Cardassian who panicked in the face of danger would ruin General Martok's song." "That would be unfortunate."
And while Julian is further back in the shot, I cannot help but notice the way he looks at Garak—with a touch of awe and pride.
"Now, if you'll excuse me... my dungeon awaits."
Julian and Garak exchange the briefest of glances as the former moves to open the hatch, again. They're past the point of needing words. Over and over, this episode demonstrates how far they've come on that front.
They know one another. They trust one another. They've learned when to push and when to pull back. It's an incredible foundation for a romantic relationship, right?
Season One Garak was looking for a good fuck and a little less loneliness. Season Five Garak knows the value of friends—especially his friendship with the good Doctor.
As Worf fights, likely to the death, Julian is rocking and wringing his hands on the cot as Garak works in the wall.
"Can we get him out?" "No time."
And Julian knocks twice on the wall to prepare Garak. Garak closes his eyes and steadies himself. No words needed.
"Take it to maximum warp, Garak. We've got to get a message to the station."
And he leans over Garak's shoulder as the Cardassian gets them the hell outta Dodge. What they've just endured was terrible. They may never speak of it, again. But the trust they've forged over the last five years is only deepening.
Which makes it mildly infuriating we never get the full response from Garak to Julian's big secret. Yes, he gets to tell Miles. But I want to talk about that scene a bit.
And, yes, this is what I mentioned about fathers and pride coming back around from literally two episodes earlier. Tain was a man who was rarely proud of his son, who practically disowned him to protect himself from a "weakness" that he couldn't afford.
As we mentioned, I grew up not really hearing "I'm proud of you". I never felt like I was good enough. I tried to mold myself into who I was supposed to be.
And it was my darling husband who helped me learn to stand up for myself in my 20's so by the time the children came around in my 30's I was strong enough to protect them properly from those who hurt me.
Now, we get a glimpse into what it was like to be little Julian.
"The word you're looking for is 'unnatural' meaning 'not from nature'."
Yes, we're going to get into it. Partially because it's such a fucking beautiful scene, practically a monologue, delivered by a skilled actor who didn't need a thousand cuts to get it right.
And, let me say this—sometimes a thousand cuts is just what a scene needs. But the Director deftly understood that there was strength in the stillness, here. Without a series of cuts, we can really focus on Julian (and Colm Meaney doing brilliant reaction-without-drawing-focus in the background).
"'Freak' or 'Monster' would also be acceptable. I was six. Small for my age, a bit awkward physically, not very bright. In the first grade when the other children were learning how to read and write and use the computer, I was still trying to tell a dog from a cat, and a tree from a house. I didn't really understand what was happening. I knew that I wasn't doing as well as my classmates. There were so many concepts that they took for granted that I couldn't begin to master and I didn't know why. All I knew was that I was a great disappointment to my parents."
My Middle child is Autistic, ADHD, Auditory Processing Disorder, suspected Reading Processing Disorder, with Anxiety Disorder. In second grade, he was reading at a Kindergarten level. His twin excelled and he struggled.
And I, as mother, repeatedly told them (and their little sister) how proud I was of them, not for a grade on a paper but for who they were. And I meant it.
Little Julian never had that acceptance.
The Flowers for Algernon part of my brain wonders how jarring it must have been for Julian at nearly 7 to know how he'd understood the world before, and then to go through the process of seeing it anew. He transitioned from grasping for concepts others easily understood to moving beyond them.
But he never had a choice. He couldn't understand what was being done until it had been done.
By the way, that shot of Julian? Where Siddig acted his ass off? Nearly two whole minutes of performance. It's Masterful.
Garak and Julian both grew up with parents who were impossible to please, who wanted their sons to do what they would have chosen for their lives. Neither man had a good relationship with his father. So, though Bashir and Garak are set up as very different—and in some ways they truly are—there are other places where they can relate to one another that are special, intimate.
"What's the matter?" "Well, it's just that lately I've noticed everyone seems to trust me. It's quite unnerving. I'm still trying to get used to it. Next thing I know people are going to be inviting me to their homes for dinner."
Because everyone knows better than to invite you anywhere for lunch. Right, Garak? That's Bashir time! Okay, fine. I know it's a bit of a reach. But that was my first thought when he said, "Dinner". So, into the Meta it goes.
"It's hard to believe he's the same man who attacked us." "In a way... he's not. The drug brought out the worst parts of him and allows them to take over. He wasn't in control of his actions."
This is a very... interesting way of attacking this issue. I mean, accountability is a very important thing, and I feel like we're kinda skirting that, here. And there is going to be an inquest. I'm just not a fan of the framing, I suppose.
But, if I pull out of the part of my brain that tries to analyze societal impact of Star Trek and its eras (I gave an entire persuasive speech about Star Trek at University, so I come by this honestly), I see a man trying to protect Garak.
Yes, we set up the "trust" others have for Garak in the beginning of the episode and showed how swiftly it could be broken. There was a throughline, here.
That's it for Garak and Julian in Season 5. Season 6 gives them the bitchiest of bitchy moments and I love the writers for it! Let's see, that would be... Ira Steven Behr and Hams Beimler. Thank you both for your service.
"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to give up hope, Doctor."
Oh. My. Gosh. Look, I'm bloody asexual, but even I can see that this is the most snack-a-licious Julian has ever looked, and he's sauntering right up to Garak with a lot of skin exposed. Oy vey!
And he walks right by because he is having none of this shit while he's out there trying to save lives.
"I would think that all those lunches we've shared would have entitled me to preferential treatment."
Are you two gonna kiss? You're standing like you're gonna kiss. Just sayin'... it might be good for you... for your morale? If you... y'know... kissed. I mean, come on this blocking is not to account for the 4:3 format.
"Look, I have 12 wounded officers and crewmen out there, all of whom are in a lot worse shape than you, Garak." "Well, if you're trying to cheer me up, it's working."
I had to add that comma between "up" and "it's" and I wish I knew if that was Robinson or the script because it's just so bloody... Garak. Taking those breaths and breaks where nobody else would.
Also, can we talk about this shot!? This is a continuous shot that follows the two of them to multiple blocking points in the room while changing their positioning, the dominance of one over the other, the framing of one closer to the camera, etc.
It's bloody masterful. You have to have lighting in all those areas so they aren't in weird shadow. You have to have the blocking marked out so they aren't out of focus. You have the have actors who can carry that long a shot without needing to reference a line or struggling with the giggles.
"I'll admit the odds are not good, but they coudl be worse." "Ah, let me guess. You've used your genetically enhanced brain to calculate our chances for survival... I'm really not interested Doctor. Ever since it's become public knowledge that you're genetically engineered, you've used every opportunity to show off."
First off, this reminds me that we never got Garak's reaction to that whole revelation, and I ache for it. It would have been interesting to see if Garak suspected all along, or if he was truly proud Julian hid something, even from him.
Also, damn this bitch is salty. Honey, it's okay that you're not always the smartest in the room. Your human boytoy can one-up you sometimes. It's not a bad thing.
And I love how Julian keeps working, even adjusting Garak's head gently with his fingers as he tries to repair the damage to his head. There's a "darling, just do what I need you to do" feeling to it.
Seriously, this is a couple bickering. And if Cardassians flirt by bickering, Garak is waving pheremones thick enough to nosh on as aphrodesiac appetizers to an adventurous night.
And after an entire minute of a single shot, we change angles. Damn, I love these long Garashir shots!
"You're certain about that figure?" "Do you want me to take you through the entire set of calculations?" "Not really."
Bashir smirks as he shifts past Garak, and you can feel just how much they are enjoying this. Their time for rigorous debate at lunch has long since passed. Hell, we haven't seen them share a dining table in years, now.
Yes, the Changeling and Garak sat together, but that doesn't count. It was Season 4 when last these two sat and ate together, and now we're at the top of Season 6.
So, it's not surprising Garak has found a new topic for spirited conversation.
"'Genetically Engineered' indeed." "Excuse me?"
Okay, the way Julian pops into frame there cracks me up. Like, he had to answer that and Garak knew he would. Garak is baiting him into debat and Julian is falling for it. And at 4:06 we started another long shot of these two.
"Well, look at you. You act as if you haven't a care in the world. It's exactly that kind of smug, superior attitude that makes people like you so... unpopular." "Are you trying to insult me?
Yes, darling. Flirting with you helps distract him from all y'all's impending doom.
"A 32.7 percent chance of survival, I call that insulting." "Don't take it so personally, Garak. It's strictly a matter of mathematics." "No, it's strictly a matter of our lives. You're not genetically engineered. You're a Vulcan."
I love how Julian appears to rest his arm on Garak as he scans him, likely making sure that the treatment he did a moment earlier took, despite Garak's inability to stay still.
"If I'm a Vulcan, then how do you explain my boyish smile?"
Damn, Julian! You are finally catching up to the flirting, here. And I love that the smile he offers him definitely has the edge of flirtation to it. This isn't his dopey grin when he watches Garak rewrite Cardassian security code, or his big smile when Garak joins a mission.
Look at the way Julian's eyes seek out Garak's.
"Not so boyish anymore."
And, oh, you can hear the way he rocks back on those boots before sauntering off... a few feet away. Like, seriously, where the fuck is he going?
It's not about the destination. He really just did that to be petty to Julian, who is left definitely feeling that. Because, he wants Garak to think he's handsome, damnit.
Julian shakes his head to shake it off. But this remains one of my favorite scenes of the two of them.
And while that shot was roughly 40 seconds, and not as long as the last, it still constantly amazes me how little cutting they often do with these two.
I've done both stage and film/tv. They often take completely different skillsets, but there are times where they overlap, or where a strength in theater really comes in handy.
Remembering dialogue is part of the game with theater. Remembering blocking is integral. Remembering to listen and not just speak is essential.
Both of these two actors have experience in both, and that's why scenes like these sing. They know how to feed one another without drawing attention. They know how to react and not only act.
Yes, they have insane chemistry on-camera. But they also know how to use that along with their other skills. They deliver on every level, and it's a fucking shame they're used together so little after this episode.
Also, it's such a fascinating choice to see Julian debating so dispassionately with Garak while losing his cool with Sisko. This has to do with the different relationships at play, sure. But I find it fascinating.
One could consider it a coping mechanism—that Julian needs that rigorous debate as much as Garak does in that moment. And Julian knows Garak has no trouble making the tough decisions. Maybe that's what he hopes Sisko will do... but it's not his place.
"Garak? Come to see us off?" "Not quite."
And as the two turn to face Sisko... this could really be their wedding. I mean, yeah, not the best venue. The food's nonexistant and the music sucks. But, Sisko does have the power to perform the ceremony if they're so inclined.
"I invited Mr. Garak to join us considering we're heading into Cardassian territory I thought he might prove useful."
Julian is beaming. He's beaming. Earlier these two were verbally sparring, and now he couldn't be happier that Garak is onboard for this dangerous mission.
"Well, it's been known to happen."
Julian grasps Garak's shoulder and pats it several time before moving on, still smiling. Just moments ago each of them was lamenting what they didn't have on the ship. But now he has Garak.
"Captain, may I make a suggestion?" "Only if you talk softly." "We saw Dukat-" "Shh." "Wearing one of these headsets during the attack on Deep Space 9-"
This is so married. I have a friend who is Autistic who has a lot of trouble with self-monitoring when it comes to volume, so she and her husband developed a hand signal so he could help hold her accountable in spaces where she needs to be more aware.
I thought of that as soon as I watched this. God bless Garak, but he missed the memo entirely when Sisko said to speak softly. But, one glance at Julian's finger raise to his lips and he gets the message.
"Perhaps Cardassian physiology is more... compatible."
Julian's head swivels to Garak as he processes what the Cardassian is offering. It's a good suggestion. And, honestly, what was Garak adding to the mission besides eye candy for Bashir?
Of course, when the episode was written, this was all planned out. I'm not coming for the writers! No, I'm looking at it purely from the point of view of the characters, who got to enjoy Garak's personality while waiting for him to be useful.
He's a good little Swiss Army Knife of a character, where you never quite know how he's going to be useful. But Sisko's seen enough of him by now to know it's better to bring him along than not.
"Are you volunteering?" "I suppose I am. This ship is equipped with two of them. If I wore one, then you wouldn't have to. At least, not all the time."
Julian puts it together quicker than Sisko, and he likes this idea. Sisko is his patient, at the moment, and as the Captain, he needs to keep him physically fit.
"I agree with Garak, Captain."
And Sisko hands over the headset. But watch how Julian follows the headset to Garak, then waits to be sure he's okay. Yes, of course, he's a bloody Doctor. But, I still love the choice as a performer.
"We have to go to full impulse 1.3 seconds before the bomb detonates."
Bet you're not complaining about his super brain now are you, Garak!?
"Dax?" "The computer agrees with Julian." "Of course it does. They think alike."
Damnit, Garak, I was giving you some credit on that one! Nevermind. And the look Julian gives Garak! Gosh, these two are reading old married couple so much in this episode.
"How long?" "17 Years, 2 months, and 3 days, give or take an hour."
This time, Garak looks to Julian for the answer. This time, he knows that genetically engineered mind will have the answer he needs, even if it's not the one he wants.
And Julian delivers the whole thing directly to Garak. His eyes don't move from him. Theirs is such a fascinating connection, and I wish more of Season 6 between them had been like this.
There's a heat and energy that's obviously couply, but so electric and different from what they had before. It's grown and shifted and they're on a more equal footing, by this point, and they see each other on a more even playing field.
"Garak! I need a hand."
Julian calls out for him as help to carry Jadzia. He trusts him to help him with this. A few years ago, all of them considered Garak a spy and wouldn't trust him with anything. Oh, how far they have come.
Also, are they actually outside!? I love when they let the Star Trek characters bust outside the sound stages and breathe fresh air and have actual sunlight for a bit!
And I'm not going to comment much on the whole Nog/Garak adventure of this episode because, honestly, hearing Garak say words to Nog that hold such meaning for Garashir does irk me.
Now, Robinson is a pro enough to deliver them in completely different ways. "There may be hope for you, yet" to Bashir was sultry and horny. To Nog, it's upbeat and slick.
But it's not my favorite choice when it comes to resuscitating previous dialogue in a new setting. I will admit that much.
"That's the eleventh ship to fall out of formation." "Nice of you to keep track, Garak." "He can't help being negative. It's in his nature." "On the contrary, I always hope for the best. Experience unfortunately has taught me to expect the worst."
Garak turns fully to face Julian to deliver this one. Wow, these two are in a catty phase!
"They outnumber us two to one." "Now who's being negative?"
Julian doesn't acknowledge him, but I love Garak trying to get that little jab in there. Seriously, Season Six is all about the snark. Would've been nice to watch that tension build to some sort of release, eh? But, yeah, nope! Because that's it for Season 6 for these two.
"Thank you for your company, gentlemen."
His first scene with Julian of Season 7, and it's a group get-together where he starts to tap into his claustrophobia. Of the three men across from him, only one has seen that in action before.
"He checks out fine." "Well, I don't feel fine."
There's an intersting turn. Garak used to put up a front, but this time he isn't. But Julian won't be the one to help him. To endear one of my least-favorite characters to the audience, we pair her with one of the most beloved.
And, nothing against the actress. I've seen her in other things and loved her. But young Rachel abhored the character, and grown Rachel's opinion has not wavered.
Oh my gosh. Season 7 Episode 16. Finally a complete scene between these two! It's been since the beginning of Season 6! And they are so in sync they tap the table at the same time, order their drinks simultaneously, and sit down while chatting with some animation we haven't seen in some time.
Bitchy, old couple Garashir has given way to an old, familiar rhythm. And I think part of that is because Julian is back to pursuing what is expected of him—a Dax. But that's a subject for someone else's Meta.
"The eternal optimist." "Guilty as charged." "How sad."
Alright, there's a little bitchiness still in there.
"But, I live in hope that one day you'll come to see this universe for what it truly is rather than what you'd wish it to be." "Well, I shall endavor to become more cynical with each passing day—look gift horses squarely in the mouth, and find clouds in every silver lining." "If only you meant it."
Anyone else feel a little lighter? I feel a little lighter. Because this? This is fucking gorgeous! I ache that it's been since the first episodes of Season 6 since we've seen these two interacting and sparking and reminding us why we love them together. Such different people who challenge one another, excite one another, and make each other smile like no one else can.
But, yeah, sure. Let's give Julian to the bloody Dax. Look, Little Rachel didn't clock Garashir and I was still anti Ezri/Julian. No hatred to those who loved them! But I never understood it.
And thank goodness someone somewhere realized who Garak had to share his last scene with—Julian. It wouldn't have been right if it had been anyone else, despite their distinct lack of screentime together in Seasons 6 and 7.
"Well, aren't you going to congratulate me, Doctor? My exile is now officially over. I've returned home... or rather, to what's left of it." ... "You and I both know the Cardassians are a strong people. They will survive. Cardassia will survive." "Oh, please, Doctor, spare me your insufferable Federation optimism. Of course it'll survive... but not as the Cardassia I knew."
Garak is right. And if he wasn't so (rightfully) upset, he would see that Julian's heart isn't in what he's saying. He just doesn't know what to say.
"We had a rich and ancient culture. Our literature, music, art was second to none. And now... so much of it is... lost. So many of our best people, our most gifted minds."
Robinson is pulling us apart, here. The anguish is palpable, and Siddig is feeding off of it. We can see Julian's plastered on optimism peeling away as the tears fill his eyes. He knows his words hold no meaning, here. So, he finally reaches out.
It's the shoulder touch. It's their thing. But Garak's not in the right place to receive it.
"You've been such a good friend. I'm going to miss our lunches together." "I'm sure we'll see each other, again." "I'd like to think so. But one can never say. We live in uncertain times."
Garak places his hand on Julian's shoulder, now. Their thing. But while Julian's was offered as comfort, Garak's is a goodbye. Garak lets his hand slide off Julian's shoulder, and the human can do nothing but stand there.
In the end, Garak was always going to choose Cardassia. In my mind, the only way he and Julian end up is if the Doctor follows him there. But, Bashir just began a relationship with Ezri, a comfortable relationship in an uncomfortable time.
Love comes in many forms, and sometimes when you find it, you don't even know it's found. That's Garashir. That's the story of missed opportunities and all the things that held them back from finally crossing that final line to becoming the lovers they might have been.
I've heard the rumors, of course, for why that was so. But, since I don't know what's true, I won't repeat them here. Instead, I'll lament what wasn't, and be grateful for a relationship that was so beloved and enduring that Robinson and Siddig themselves championed it, fed it, fostered it, developed it, and supported it so long that it found itself canon in another Star Trek show.
I like to imagine that someday Julian followed Garak to Cardassia, that they realized what they had and couldn't do without. Imagine them both separated so long that their missed lunches grow from an ache to an agony—that the walls of expectation and convention break down enough that they find themselves in one another's arms.
Sometimes we aren't ready for something in life—a career, a move, a great love. And at the end of Star Trek: Deep Space 9, these two aren't in the right place to start something. There are too many other factors at play.
But love at last is often sweeter than the right love at the wrong time. Maybe that's where Garak found Julian—the moment they were both finally ready.
Thanks for reading, loves. I know it's long and likely riddled with typos. But, it's late and I have a Strike Book to resume. This little obsessive ride was a blast, but with my OCD once it's written, it's done. I feel released, and I'm thankful.
And, remember, you are beautiful inside and out. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
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thisisyesterdaystudy · 3 days ago
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Monday 7th (first day back at it)
actually had the most productive day of my life possibly - i'm sure it will all fall apart tmrw i'm staying up way to late for my 5/6 hours sleep or whatever it was
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Things I did
woke up in the AM (pretty good for me)
got ahead in biology, i got both today and tomorrow's topics done so i have more time to revise now which is good
got my sociology work done - that was the least exciting bit of my day, sort of did bare minimum
art history: studying jmw turner rn who i am not a bit fan of and in fact so much the contrary that i've been putting it off for 6 weeks but i put on a random classical music studying playlist and somehow that solved all my problems, i studied art hist the most today and i had a great time, it wasn't really the most efficient use of my time cos i was focusing all on turner biography type stuff when really the thing i should be focusing on is his paintings but i'm just glad to be motivated again
tour of the cell: this was good as extra consolidation for bio, didn't take me long which was good, i'd like to finish it this week but idk if that's possible
byzantine icons: had a very short section today but loved it looking forward to the rest - its very tenuous including this in my art history study time because its not really related to what i'm studying ever i'm just interested but idm
swedish: still enjoying learning swedish a lot - i think i just love being a beginner and i love starting things off, its probably the lack of pressure, like when i've been doing something for a long time there's so much attached to it emotionally - anyway, learned en tårta (a cake), got freaked out by en and ett nouns its cool
went climbing
wrote my daily essay on turner today no surprises there
did some knitting and some sketchbooking, the only things i have left to do today are read and plan tmrw which hopefully i'll do before i'll fall asleep but you'll never know
i wish i had a format for these things
Study Time
biology - 1h50m (inc. 30m extra course)
sociology - 50m
art hist - 4h (inc. 10m extra course + 2h essay research + writing)
swedish - 2h (haven't decided yet whether to include this in study time any input welcome idk what counts to me)
total compulsory - 6h
total extra - 2h40m
total - 8h40m
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theside-b · 1 day ago
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Awww See Your Love, I'm going to miss your weird and crazy energy. This finale really encapsulates the best (and worst) of the show, but if there was one thing that was consistent throughout the series, it was that unique Taiwanese flavor.
The final episode makes it clear that we are watching at least three different shows at once: a sweet romance between Shaopeng and Zixiang, an odd couple comedy with Feng Jie and Xin Jia, and a barely there sapphic storyline with Jessica and Shuhe. All with varying degrees of success. I'll start with my least favorite and go up from there: Whatever happened with Feng Jie/Jonathan was fun, I really had a good time with them, especially in the early rounds with the ridiculous assassination attempts and cat and mouse game they had going, but as time went on and the script didn't have much room for them and simply didn't know how to integrate Xin Jia into the main story, they lost the spark (I was a bit disappointed that we got the answer to what really happened in their "first night", I wish it had been kept a mystery).
We had Jessica and Shuhe for about three weeks - and 5 minutes of screen time - but it was enough to show clear potential, we never get saphic storylines in Taiwanese BL shows, so I was pleasantly surprised by their natural chemistry, the writing done for them was highly beneficial, avoiding some of the traps usually seen with this kind of characters. So it's a shame we didn't get more out of them, there was clearly a lot of potential here.
Now for the crème de la crème: Shaopeng and Zixiang… it was just… dare I say "perfect" might be the word for them. The writing, the direction, the craftsmanship behind the show, it was clear that the series revolved around them, and both actors stepped up to the plate and delivered easily two of the best performances in the genre. And I will single out Shaopeng's Jin Yun: simply the best acting of any Taiwanese show in 2024 (would go as far as to say one of the best in general television of the past year). Playing a deaf-mute character is no small challenge, but having a disabled character like him as the protagonist elevated everything, and in the hands of a lesser actor it could have been a disaster. Fortunately, he was more than ready, and while Raiden Lin's Zixiang did some heavy lifting, it was Shaopeng who kept the story moving forward.
This show was always deceptively cute and wacky. It often hid what it was trying to say behind silly visual gags and cartoonish sound effects, luring viewers into a false sense of security before delivering emotional punches that left everyone reeling.
With mixed results, I would say; many felt that the attempted assault scene with Shuhe was jarring and unnecessary — about that particular moment, I was a bit surprised that the audience was surprised, because Taiwanese shows often have a certain violent aspect to them, no matter how unassuming a show may be, and considering that we are talking about the team behind Kiseki: Dear to Me, it was to be expected.
If there was one aspect that never really clicked for me, it was the gangster subplot involving our beloved Nat Chen. Whatever they were trying to do here really felt disconnected from everything else and that is saying something, because the whole show was hanging by a thread.
After a series of shows that offered a very different taste (Unknown, The Only One, First Note of Love), this one goes back to Taiwanese BL roots and shares so much DNA with its direct predecessors (Be Loved in House: I Do, Plus & Minus, Kiseki) that it was somewhat refreshing. And after some stumbles and poorly conceived characters, Shaopeng stands as one of the greatest, if not the best, disabled protagonists a BL show has ever had.
(Also, where is my Taro and Kai cameo???)
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demigodsanswer · 20 hours ago
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I’m going to thrice you, again, prompt idea: in Princess AU- the conversation on the beach in Greece if the *right* brother had been there.
I am addicted to alt-versions of my own fic universes. Guess we'll call this one "Found You First" They're younger, so they aren't as good at flirting yet.
~
She hadn't seen Percy in a little over a year. The last time they'd crossed paths, he was holding up Yale's Mock Trial National's first place trophy, while Annabeth fumed about Harvard's meager fifth place, even if she had come out with her own attorney award.
It was hard to hold onto that grudge now, though. When they were on opposite sides of a Mock rivalry (mock as in "trial," the rivalry was very real), he really was handsome, tan with dark hair and very pretty green eyes.
Percy bowed his head towards her, and then held out his hand. It was the first time he'd ever bowed to her. "Lovely to see you again, Princess," he said.
Annabeth took his hand, expecting him to shake it, but he simply kissed it. Annabeth's stomach did a little flip flop, and she was glad she'd agreed to this trip after all.
~
"Riley Winter was obviously the worst one!" Annabeth said. It took all of four minutes alone on the beach for them to start arguing about Mock Trial witnesses.
"Mickey Keenan was way more annoying than him! He was an incompetent cop who obviously entrapped someone," Percy said. "I was so happy when they killed him off for nationals."
"Too bad you lost to Miami that year," Annabeth said.
"Too bad you didn't have the chance to win," Percy said back. Annabeth kicked sand at him.
"Are you in law school?" Annabeth asked.
"Oh, absolutely not. Not cut out for the LSAT, let alone the Bar. I'm doing a masters at Yale," he said, as if that was somehow less impressive than law school.
"Oh? In what?" Annabeth asked.
"Classics. I'm thinking about applying for a Ph.D., but I'm not sure. I'm a bit burnt out at the moment," he said, slumping back in his beach chair for dramatic effect.
Annabeth nodded sympathetically. "Classics is cool, though."
"I'm excited to be in Greece and actually see some of the things I write about," Percy said.
"My dad and I are getting a private tour of the Parthenon this week, if you want to join us," Annabeth offered. "Maybe you could teach us something."
Percy was smiling, really smiling, and excited boyish grin. "Really? Would that be okay?"
Annabeth smiled back. "Sure," she said. She needed to get married, and people were starting to worry she had no real interest in men. Taking Percy, a man she was absolutely interested in, on a trip to the Parthenon might help her in a few different ways.
Percy looked like he was about to say something, but then paused. "Your shoulders are pink," he said. "Want me to get them?"
Annabeth nodded. A nice excuse for some contact.
As Percy rubbed the sunscreen onto her shoulders, chest, and back (both politely trying to ignore how incredibly intimate it was), she asked: "Are you single?" Annabeth couldn't remember seeing any women on his Instagram lately, but maybe he kept those things private.
"I am," Percy said. "I did get out of a relationship a few months ago, though. I'm mostly over it."
"Was it mutual?" She asked.
Percy shrugged. "Hard to say."
"So you got your heart broken?" She deduced.
Percy almost laughed. "A little bit."
"What was her name?"
"Frank," Percy said without hesitation, before looking up and meeting her eyes, assessing her for fear, confusion, or disgust.
Annabeth just nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about that. It sounds like he meant a lot to you."
Percy nodded, a sad look in his eyes. "Yeah," and then he squirted more sunscreen in the other hand, and started on her other shoulder. "I'm not here to use you as a beard, though. I am bisexual, if you ... believe in that sort of thing."
"Be a bit of a raging hypocrisy if I didn't," Annabeth said. Percy's eyes snapped to her face, and she just shrugged and nodded. "I had my own devastating gay break up our senior year. I thought I was going to have to go to the hospital," Annabeth said with a laugh.
"Can I guess who it was?" Percy said, finishing with the sunscreen and sitting back in the sand in front of her. Annabeth stretched a leg out, and Percy started reapply sunscreen to that as well.
"Sure," Annabeth said.
"Tristan McLean's daughter?" He said.
Annabeth laughed. "God, were we that conspicuous?"
"Probably not to straight people," Percy said, "I'm sure to them, you guys looked like very good friends."
~
Before long, it was clear that Annabeth simply could not be in the sun for long without roasting, so Percy suggested they go to the shaded bar up by the resort itself, but still close to the sand. Annabeth had accepted his offer graciously.
Percy covertly texted his cousin while Annabeth used the restroom.
Percy
from your pov, how soon is too soon to kiss the crown princess of a sovereign country
Thals
Well if it's you kissing me, any time would be too soon. if it's the swedish girl. idk go for it if she seems into it
Percy waited a full fifteen minutes after she came back to up the touchy flirting, and Annabeth leaned into it, touching his thigh under the bar and tossing her hair over her (lightly pink) shoulders. Two glasses of wine each later, and their faces were tantalizingly close together.
Annabeth kissed him first in the end, closing the distance between them with a sure and steady kiss that was sophisticated and contained, but did linger.
"So, I guess our rivalry ends here?" Percy suggested.
Annabeth smiled. "Guess so."
~
Thankfully, when her father found her, she was no longer kissing Percy. They'd gone on from their first kiss to their second to their third in record time, before deciding to go somewhere more private.
But it was on their walk to this more private place that they found her dad.
Percy sobered up and remembered his manners right away. Her father hadn't been there for his and hers initial introduction, but Percy carried out the expected protocol flawlessly. Annabeth could have swooned.
"Nice to meet you son. Ambritt, would you like to get dinner?" Her father asked her.
"Oh, sure," Annabeth said, "Percy and I were about to find something to eat ourselves," she said, hoping that didn't read an innuendo, even though it certainly was.
"Ah, well, Percy, you're welcome to join us," her dad offered.
Percy nodded. "I'd be honored, your majesty."
"Oh, please don't bother with all of that, unless you'd like me to start calling you Don Percy," her dad said.
Percy laughed. "Certainly not. But I should change before we go anywhere."
"Me too," Annabeth said.
"Alright, you two head up. I'll make arrangements with Hugo. Do you eat fish?" Her dad asked Percy.
"Sure do," Percy said, before looking at Annabeth, his glance telling her that was also innuendo.
They stepped into the elevator together.
"I forgot your real name was Ambritt," Percy said.
"Sure is. What's 'Percy' in Spanish?" Annabeth asked.
"Perseo, but that's actually one of my middle names. My first name is Pedro," he told her.
"Oh, you are not a Pedro," Annabeth said, taking his hand as the door opened to her floor.
"I agree," he said as she unlocked her hotel room door. "Should I leave you to get ready?"
"In five," she reached between his legs, and her eyes went a bit wide as she realized the size of it, even soft, "maybe ten minutes."
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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 5 months ago
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"I know you don't need a tutor, Reg" Remus sighed "You know all this stuff. Why don't you put some effort?"
"Why would I do that if I am already rich?" Regulus replied with an arrogant tone similar to Sirius’s. Feet on top of the desk, arms behind his head, relaxed expression, although his eyes (the same as Sirius’s that Remus knew well) showed fear.
"Most people study to go to Uni and then get a job" Regulus shrugged "I already have a job. I will own my family's Company"
Regulus was not like that. Remus knew that. He said all those things because he was hurting. Even if Remus didn't understand what exactly happened between him and his brother.
"Don't you think you oath to know these things to run YOUR company?" Remus asked getting irritated. He hated Dumbledore for making do this.
Remus didn't need extra credit with tutoring because he wasn't planning on applying for Uni. The man just kept insisting.
"I am gonna do it anyway. I am the Heir"
Remus groaned "Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you have to be a dick with me? With Sirius?"
Regulus's eyes flickered with sorrow at the mention of his brother's name.
"You think he is so innocent, don't you?" Regulus snorted with venom in his voice "Just because you sleep with him?"
It was still a secret for the rest of the world. Their closest friends knew. Some other Gryffindors knew. Grant knew.
Sirius had his reasons not to tell anyone in his family. Actually Remus agreed. They didn't have to explain anything to people they didn't care about. But Regulus was not just anyone. He was one of the selected people that Sirius wanted to tell.
Regulus just didn't like the idea.
"Sirius still cares for you. And it is not fair that they are changing you and destroying you"
Regulus laughed sarcastically.
"Have you ever asked my dear brother the real reason why he left?"
Remus didn't know the details. He knew his parents were awful. He knew Sirius ended up bruised up that night. But nothing else.
"You mean besides your parents's abuse?"
Regulus smiled evily "He went mad that night. Sirius started being the violent person and provoked father... He said horrible things to all of us until father reacted. All because of you"
Remus frowned. What did he have to do with anything?
Regulus caught his confused expression.
"He didn't tell you, did he?" he asked mocking him.
Regulus got up, pretending to be bored.
"Potter and you only have Sirius’s side in which he is the victim. But there's more to it" Regulus said, looking paler than before "Think about what Sirius actually tells you and what he hides"
Remus didn't believe him. This kid was lost and sad, and God knows what happened to him after Sirius left. Why was he so mean? Why was he changing so much?
Remus was in love with Sirius. And he believed him. Sirius would never lie or manipulate him.
"How you ever wondered why did your parents leave so abruptly many years ago?"
Remus didn't know. Both of his parents got jumpy when The Black Family was mentioned. Hope had helped him contact Sirius without success. They saw Remus suffering and missing Sirius. But never gave an explanation.
"Sirius knows" Regulus added, as he grabbed his unopened books "Ask him"
Regulus left the room satisfied with wrecking Remus apart.
If Sirius knew, he wouldn't keep it from Remus. It just couldn't be true. Regulus was just lying. Regulus had to be lying, right? Maybe he was just jealous. He was scared of losing Sirius. That must be it. That made him lie.
God, tutoring this kid was going to be hard.
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melrosing · 5 months ago
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Do you think George make it in this year? Or 2025?
I kinda like that there are new covers for books, but his blog gives me controversial signals
I think (feel (hope)) we will see twow soon….
idk i do personally believe we'll see the book, i'm not as pessimistic as some people, but i also wasn't as optimistic as others were earlier this summer - i think it's going to be really apparent when GRRM is getting there, it won't just be the odd rumour.
the covers are a little encouraging tho? i work in a sort of adjacent industry to publishing so i can't say for sure that this is the case here but based on the logic of my industry at least i would be quite surprised to see new editions released if his publishers weren't expecting a renewed sales push some time soon. these things are generally timed very carefully afaik, new product releases and ad spend go way up when you think you've got your audience in hand.
you could say that the renewed push is associated with the release of the HBO spin-offs, but then why not release new covers for F&B and D&E, which supposedly would be the first books those audiences would pick up? that's why Rise of the Dragon came out to capitalise on HOTD, bc they knew new HOTD fans would go in for that sooner than AGOT. so these new editions do just seem stand out to me a little bc they've been putting off redesigning those covers for a LONG fucking time to the point I thought they never would. that said, based on GRRM's latest comments i don't think it's coming out in October lol, just that some groundwork is being laid.
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