#it was awful. AWFUL. but it was also a fun time

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

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The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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[formula-ghost]

Supermodel (FC43 x fem!reader)

SUMMARY: Franco can’t understand how you, the love of his life, could ever feel insecure—so he goes above and beyond to show you (and the world) how beautiful he thinks his girlfriend is. This can be read within the RYD universe or as a stand alone one shot!

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI. Teasing, light dom reader/ sub Franco at the beginning dom Franco at the end, body dysmorphia/reader insecurity, worship, mirror sex, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk/mentions of AFAB anatomy (reader has a vagina), use of the word whore, protected sex. Use of YN. Also the song doesn’t match the vibe of the story but I wanted to stick with the Måneskin theme lol.  

A/N: Some more Franco content! I need some more time with the Oscar fic, plus I’ll be returning to regular life since the holidays are over soon, so I figured I’d tide you over with a spicy Franco one shot. Since (in my head at least) this is set in the RYD universe, I’ve included the same tag list, and I hope you all enjoy it!

TAGLIST:  @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @xivilivix @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse  @uncreativetm  @ncrsbrg  @tillyt04 @amz824 @ellelabelle

Yeah, she’s a master, my compliments

If you wanna love her, just deal with that

She’ll never love you more than money and cigarettes

Every night’s a heartbreak

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Franco panted, his eyes trailing your curves up and down just as his fist squeezed tightly over the growing bulge in his pants. 

Your cheeks were flushed red, almost as dark as the wine-colored matching lingerie set you now wore before him, leaving little to the imagination. You couldn’t help it—no matter how long you’d been with the Argentine, you still got bashful when he complimented you. 

“I hope you know I mean it,” he began, leaving his spot on the bed to advance toward you. He gently brushed your hair away and kissed the top of your shoulder, looking up at you with his deceptively innocent doe eyes. “You’re the most perfect thing in the world to me.”

You smiled, blissful at the feeling of his touch. “It’s easy to say that when I’m standing in front of you in my new set.”

“I love you,” he said, as if it was as simple as telling the time. “So much. More than words can say. And I want you to remember that when you’re mad at me after I rip this off of you.”

He grabbed the strap of your bra, and you giggled, “You better not!” You playfully pushed him back on the bed. “No touching, not yet. Be good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, obedient to only you. The grip you had on him was intoxicating. 

You climbed up on the bed, straddling him, running your featherlight fingertips up and down his arms and chest. 

“Mi amor,” he exhaled, “you are cruel to me.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, sarcastic yet seductive.

“Don’t you dare.”

You laughed. If he thought a bit of teasing was cruel, he would not be having fun for the rest of the night.

But, of course, he loved nothing more than ravishing your body, evident by his labored breath, laying next to you when the deed was finished. He stared at you with awe, your eyes still closed. He listened as you tried to catch your breath, placing gentle kisses on the top of your arm and into your shoulder.

You just let out a little noise in response, feeling safe and comforted by his touch. When you two were alone, he always needed to touch you in some way, much to your dismay during the sweltering hot months of summer. 

His kisses traced their way up to your neck, chin, and finally to your cheek, where he gently moved your hair out of your face to gaze on the gorgeous image of your face. 

“I wish there were better words in English to explain how I feel about you,” he said, his voice low and genuine. “Something stronger than I love you. Something more than just beautiful.” 

“You know I love it when you speak to me in Spanish,” you said, letting your eyelids flutter open to meet his gaze, only inches from your own.

“Yes, but I want you to understand what I mean.” He smiled softly. 

“My Spanish is getting better.”

“It is, you’re doing great,” he joked, nuzzling his nose into your neck, leaving you in a fit of giggles. “You’ll be talking circles around me in no time.”

“I wish. You’re fluent in yapenese,” you joked. You playfully mocked his voice, “Mi amor, you are so beautiful, the light of my life—” 

“Oh hush,” he said, smiling ear to ear. “You love it.”

“I do.”

“And it’s true.” He cupped your face, bringing you into a sweet embrace with a gentle kiss. “Join me in the shower?” 

“In a minute,” you answered, as he got up from the bed and started the warm water. After a few more moments of rest, you got up, picking up the discarded items of clothing that now dotted the floor, thrown aside in the heat of the passionate moment. 

You crossed the room to open the bureau and grab a fresh set of pajamas, before you caught sight of your reflection in the floor-length mirror. 

You had gained a little weight. It was normal, you supposed; a natural result of your many nights out with your lover. 

But you felt stuck in front of the mirror, your eyes rolling over the curves at the bottom of your stomach, what once was somewhat flat. Little thunderbolt-shaped lines now decorated the dimpled skin. And as you brought your arm up to grip the loose fat, you saw the extra flesh there too. 

“Mi amor, you coming?” Franco called from inside the bathroom. You hummed in response. 

You turned, noticing how the light caught every imperfection. The puffiness in your face, the roundness of your jaw, the lines and bumps and discoloration. You sucked in your stomach, seeing the surface flatten, then exhaled, watching with disgust how your body shifted.

“Amor?” Franco said, poking his head outside of the bathroom. Seeing you in front of the mirror, he crossed the room, finding his way behind you. He was covered only with a towel, wrapping his arms around your naked form and kissing your neck. But the sight of his flawless, athletic body behind yours did nothing to dismiss your insecurities. 

“What are you doing, pretty girl, hm?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“I’ve gained weight.”

“Did you? I didn’t notice.” His voice was tinged with a genuine confusion. 

“I look like I’m pregnant,” you said, gesturing to your bloated stomach.

“No it doesn’t,” he assured. “But if you want to be pregnant, we can arrange that.”

You ignored his attempts at banter. “I look gross.”

“Mi amor,” Franco began, his voice more serious. “Do I need to fuck you again to show you how beautiful you are?”

“Franco—”

“YN.”

You looked away.  “You could be with a model.”

“I’m with you. And you’re perfect, and I love you with my entire heart.” You bit the inside of your cheek. He continued, “Look at me.”

You brought your gaze back to his. “Your body has changed a little bit, so what?”

“It’s easy for you to say. You’re an athlete.”

“That doesn’t matter. No more of this talk. You’re beautiful. End of discussion. Now, let’s stop wasting water and get in the shower.”

You weren’t really feeling any better. If anything, you felt worse, now self conscious of your nakedness as Franco ran his hands up and down the soapy surface of your skin. You wanted nothing more than to get out of the shower, put on your clothes, and bury yourself so deep under the covers that you’d forget that you ever even possessed a physical form. 

And, much to Franco’s dismay, that’s what you did, turning away from him as you laid your head down to sleep. He pushed himself up next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He tapped his foot on your leg, initiating you to throw it over his is like you usually did every night. 

“You know,” he whispered, “this is when you’re supposed to pretend like you like me.”

“It’s not you, Franco,” you whispered back. “I love you. But it’s not something you can fix.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But that won't stop me from trying.” He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck, and you fell into a tense sleep.

Although Franco hadn’t initially noticed your physical changes, he now noticed your emotional ones. You wore loose clothing more often, as if to hide your body not only from the outside world, but from yourself. You skipped breakfast occasionally when you were having a really bad day. And now, when you made love, you wanted the lights out, preventing him from seeing the shapes of your body.  

He knew that what you had said was true—he couldn’t fix this. No matter the amount of love he showered you in, he couldn’t change the way your mind thought when you looked at yourself in the mirror. And it broke his heart knowing that you couldn’t see the same version of yourself that he saw, the perfect girl who he loved so dearly.

Your pain was beyond his fixing, but not beyond his helping. If he had showered you in love before, it was monsoon season now. Flowers every week. More lingerie to model for him.  Touching you nearly every second of the day. More sex than your body could handle. 

Of course, you welcomed his affection. But none of it helped that wound deep inside of you. 

It was at work, of all places, that he got the idea. 

“We’ve got a meeting with the new sponsors today,” his manager explained as they quickly trotted down the long hallway to the conference room. “That luxury brand I was telling you about? I’ve sealed the contract, they’re just here to plan the promo materials.”

Now, sitting in the conference room, the brand representative explained it to him. “The idea for the campaign is risque luxury. We want something… elegant, yet dangerous. Formula 1 fans are the perfect audience. Most of the shots for the initial campaign would just be in-studio, and then, we’d need you to wear some pieces we provide at official Formula 1 events.”

“That all sounds fine,” he said. 

“Great! We’re still looking for some more representatives for the women’s line, but when we find them, we can set up a date for the shoot.”

“Wait, like a female model? I’d need to pose with her?”

“For the first shoot, yes. And if we can get some shots of you and whoever we choose at official events, that’d be perfect.”

“Uh, well, I have a girlfriend. I can't just…be taking random women to events.”

The rep laughed. “Oh, it’s not like that. The models are all professionals. I assure you that no one would be trying to take you away from your partner.”

“If you all need a female model, why not just use her? We’ll be seen together a lot more than anyone else, no?”

His manager shot him a death glare. Was it highly unprofessional to be suggesting his own girlfriend for a job like this? Absolutely. Did he care at all? Absolutely not. 

The rep asked, “Oh, does she model?” 

“Eh… no, not professionally. But this could be her big break, no?” Franco laughed, and the rep did too, for obviously different reasons. But Franco was, unfortunately, serious. 

“Does she have social media?” the rep asked, and Franco pulled up your instagram as the rep scrolled through. 

“Well, first of all, she’s beautiful,” the rep said, clearly trying to be polite. “But, modeling is not just about being pretty.”

“Then why am I here?” The room erupted in laughter, but Franco hadn’t intended the statement to come out like a joke. “No, I’m serious. I drive Formula 1 cars. What are my modeling qualifications?”

“Well,” the rep began, carefully choosing his words, “you have the Latin American market in a chokehold—”

Franco cut him off. “My fans love her, too.”

The rep pursed his lips. “I’m sure they do.” 

“Look, I’m not trying to be difficult—”

“Not at all,” the rep said, cutting Franco off as well. “Let me ask, though… is this a deal breaker for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if we get a real model, are you saying you wont pose or be seen with her?” 

Franco looked at his manager across the table, who was nothing short of fuming. He began, “You said the theme was ‘risque luxury.’ I’m not going to pose for risque photos with another woman, no.”

The rep sighed. Franco continued, “And honestly, I still don’t even understand why you all even want me to model for you. Nobody in Argentina can even afford these outrageous prices—”

“Okay Franco, that’s enough!” his manager said, a false happiness in her tone. She turned to walk the rep outside, saying, “This has been a wonderful meeting, we can’t wait to hear from you…”

Once he had exited the building, she returned, looked at Franco, and said, “I hope you know you just lost us that contract.”

“Did you sign me up to do a photoshoot with a random woman?”

His manager paused. “...It’s business, Franco.”

“C’mon,” he said, “you knew about this, and you didn’t say anything?”

“I thought you’d understand. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do.”

“You knew that was too much.”

She sighed. “Yeah, okay, I took a gamble hoping you wouldn’t care and I lost. But that sponsorship money is coming out of your bonus.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to promote this overpriced shit anyway.”

“You’re the bane of my existence, kid,” his manager said, patting him on the back as she walked out of the room.

At the end of the day, all Franco could think about was coming home and collapsing in your arms. When his manager was mad at him—which was often, given his refusal to be media trained—it was his favorite way to destress. 

So when he arrived home and collapsed on top of you, interrupting whatever mindless show you had been watching, you just smiled to yourself. As he exhaled, you placed one hand through his soft curls, and threaded the other under the collar of his shirt to scratch his back. He melted into your touch.

“Hello,” you said, placing a kiss on his head. “Long day?”

“She’s mad at me again,” he murmured, closing his eyes. 

“What’d you do this time?”

“Why do you assume I did something?”

You softly chuckled, “Because I know you.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” he pouted.

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

He sighed. “I fucked up a sponsor contract. But really, it wasn’t my fault! They wanted me to pose with a bunch of models to sell their overpriced jewelry.”

You hummed. “I thought you liked doing photoshoots?”

“They’re fun, yeah, when they don’t want me to touch random women,” he frowned. You could hear the genuine disgust in his voice.

“I think you’re the only man in the world who would turn down the opportunity to be surrounded by models,” you laughed. 

He lifted his head up to look at you. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“Why would I want a bunch of random women touching on me when I have a girlfriend?”

You laughed again. “Because they’re models.” 

He gave you a look of confused disgust and said, “Oh, hush, YN. You’re the only woman I want within a hundred feet of me at any given time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that other women are beautiful.”

He looked at you sternly. “Um, no. This is when you tell me I’m not allowed to look at, let alone touch, anyone other than you.”

“Franco, you know I’m not like that.”

“You are, though! What has gotten into you, lately?”

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m fine.”

Franco sighed. “No, you’re clearly not. What do I have to do for you to understand that you are the only woman in this world that matters to me? I don’t care what you say, you are the only one I want, the most beautiful girl in the world—”

He leaned up to kiss you, but you dodged his affection.

“Hey!” he protested. You got up from the couch, feeling overwhelmed by the whole interaction. 

“YN, come back—” you just ignored him as you went back to your shared bedroom, barricading yourself in the attached bathroom and exhaling. 

Franco was right. The insecurity had been eating at you for weeks, and somehow, Franco’s commitment to trying to make you feel better had made it worse. Most girls would be happy that their boyfriend (especially their young, famous, athlete boyfriend) wanted nothing to do with other women. But somehow, it just made you fear the worst—when Franco finally saw you as you saw yourself, and you became nothing more than just another one of the many women he ignored.

“YN, come out and talk to me,” you heard him softly plead from outside the door.

“I’m sorry, I just need a minute,” you said through the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“No need to apologize, take all the time you need,” he said. “But when you’re done, promise you’ll come talk to me about it?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah,” you answered weakly.

“Okay,” he said. You could hear how he pressed his forehead to the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your voice was shaking.

You just needed 5 minutes to breathe and calm down alone. That’s what you told yourself as you took another deep breath and wiped away the tears that now spilled over the corners of your eyes. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered to yourself. “I’m okay, it’s okay. It’s okay.” You’d say it until it was true. 

When you'd finally calmed down somewhat, you still waited in the bathroom, not wanting Franco to see your puffy, bloodshot eyes, the evidence of your tears. But he knew you were crying. And he knew you’d keep your word and talk to him when you were ready.

He knew you inside and out. So when you silently emerged from the bathroom and found him in the kitchen washing dishes, he knew no words were needed. You slipped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his back as he turned the water off and dried his hands.

He turned around and met your embrace, holding your head beneath his chin and enveloping you in his strong arms. His tender touch brought the tears back.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“No,” you corrected. “You’re so good to me. I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“It breaks my heart to see you hurting like this. Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

“Just hold me,” you said, burying your head deeper into his chest, smelling the familiar scent of his cologne and the warm comfort of his breath rising and falling. 

The next day, Franco woke before you, spending a moment staring at your sleeping form before he had to get up and leave for the day. 

He knew you had been struggling, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand how your mind saw something so much more different than his saw. It broke him to know you thought of yourself so negatively.

But he’d hold you all day everyday if it meant it helped even a little bit. He would do anything.

So, when your alarm began screeching and you lazily turned it off, he let you sleep in, simply pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he went into yet another one of endless meetings with his manager before the season started.

She walked in and slammed a stack of papers on the desk. “I don’t know how you keep getting away with this shit every fucking time,” she said.

Franco raised a brow. Her tone wasn’t angry, as he expected, but rather…frustrated?

“The contract,” she continued. “The rep called me last night. They want you to do the campaign no matter what. They’ll let you do it with YN.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yes. We’ll have to get her in here to sign the contract, then we’ve got fittings and we still need to set the date for the actual shoot…”

His manager’s voice faded into the background as Franco remembered the previous night. The idea of you, dolled up in designer clothes posing next to him, had excited him at first. Now, he was unsure if that would just make things worse.

He had to be…deliberate in bringing it up. At home that night, as you two ate dinner, he decided to choose his words very, very carefully. 

“So, you remember that contract I said I lost?”

“The designer stuff?” you asked. He nodded. 

“Yeah. Well, I…actually didn’t fuck it up as bad as I thought I did. They still want us to do the campaign.”

“That’s good. It’ll get your manager off your case.” Your gaze drifted to the plate of food in front of you. The unspoken question lingered in the air. 

“Please don’t be mad at me—” he began, but you cut him off. 

“Franco, you’re a professional. I trust you.”

“Well, um… they want you to model.”

You looked up at him, perplexed. “Me?”

“I showed them your social media.”

“And they want…me. To model for them.”

“Well, they want you to do the campaign with me, yes. And wear a dress of theirs to a fancy event or two.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a model. And all my followers are just your fans, anyway.”

“Other driver’s girlfriends have done it, why can’t you?” He put down his fork and looked you in the eye. “YN, I think this would be a great thing. I can show you off to the world, and they’ll dress you up and make you feel beautiful. You’re beautiful without it, of course, but you know what I mean. I can’t make you say yes, but I’d love to do this with you.”

You took a beat to think. You couldn’t deny that you wanted the experience of going to lavish galas in designer gowns and seeing Franco grace the covers of magazine and social media home pages. Besides, you thought, if you truly looked bad they could just photoshop you to hell and back.

“Okay,” you answered, “let’s do it.”

So, a few weeks later, you found yourself in one of those cloth chairs that you had only seen in movies, having powder liberally applied to your face by a makeup artist. 

“The heavy makeup is just for the lights. They’re warm and harsh, so it’ll drown you out and make you look greasy if we don’t apply this much.”

You hummed in response, afraid to move your face. “I can tell this is your first time,” the artist said. “Just relax and let us work our magic, yeah? When they all say celebrities are fake, this is what they mean.”

You would have chuckled if you weren’t already sweating with nervousness. “Close your eyes,” she said, and you obeyed, only flinching as she generously sprayed setting spray over your makeup. 

“Alrighty, off to hair for you.”

Hair was the same—a nervousness that clearly identified you as an outsider to this world of glitz and glamor. You coughed when she nearly drowned you in hairspray. 

Then it was time for the final touches, the dress and jewelry. 

You gasped as they brought it out. A long silver satin gown, custom measured to hug your curves perfectly. Your neck was adorned with diamonds, your lips blood red, your hair falling in soft waves over your shoulders. 

When you finally made it into the studio, Franco was already there, clad in a simple yet elegant black suit to contrast against the shiny fabric of your dress. He wasn’t facing you when you first entered, but hearing the click of your heels against the wooden floors, he turned and stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh my God,” he exhaled. “You look…” He was, quite literally, speechless.

You let out an awkward laugh, unused to having so much attention on you. 

“Amazing!” the brand rep said. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

And that, you did. The first shots were simple: you resting your arms on a chair while Franco sat, looking off into the distance, his perfect side profile on display. Both of you staring down the camera, arms placed in dynamic positions. 

Then you switched to the more sensual shots. Franco kneeled before you, kissing your hand, allowing you to show off the ring they had placed to contrast your black gloves. Another one, a shot of you holding his cheek as he gazed up at you in admiration. 

Then you switched, with him taking the more dominant role in the poses. His hand around your neck, showing off his own ridiculously expensive rings, as you tilted your head upwards towards him and he glared at the camera. A shot of Franco holding you up against a wall; his arm was draped above you to show off a watch, but his other hand found your waist and his head was turned as if to kiss you while you stared at the camera.

“Okay, play with the pose a bit,” the photographer instructed. “Let’s get some candids.”

You turned away from the camera, trying to ignore the incessant clicking and flashing in the background.

He smiled. “Hi, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you replied, smiling as well. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Franco leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “I really want to rip this dress off you.”

“Franco!”

“Oh, that was good!” the photographer yelled. “Whatever you said, do it again, her expression was golden.”

You laughed as you both repositioned, standing in front of the dark backdrop. 

“How much will it cost if I damage this dress?” Franco asked, looking at the photographer.

“Probably more than quadruple my salary,” the photographer laughed. “So please don’t.”

“But I have an idea. Just hear me out.”

Franco leaned down and gripped the strap of your dress in his mouth, eliciting a gasp from you and a thousand clicks of the camera. 

His most bold suggestion, though, was the shot from the floor; he laid down and had you crawl on his chest and kneel above his head, draping his shoulders in the luxurious fabric and showing off your bedazzled garter beneath a silt in the dress. Though the photo would only expose a little bit of thigh, you couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline that the position gave you. 

When the shoot was over, it hurt your heart a bit to have to take off the dress and jewelry. Franco could tell. A sad smile painted your face as they carefully removed the diamonds from your neck and ears. But the one that hurt most was the gorgeous diamond ring, which you gently slipped off your gloved finger with a pang of sadness.

Franco was right; it had been fun to dress up and show off, but it was over now. So you said a silent goodbye to this false world of luxury as you walked off to the dressing room, and Franco went over to the brand rep who was packing up your jewelry. 

“A lovely job, both of you!” he said. “I’ll admit, I was hesitant at first, but you all definitely proved me wrong. These photos will come out amazingly.”

“How much is the ring?” Franco asked, gesturing to the lockbox that it was now hidden away in. 

“Ah, I could tell she liked it. Are you thinking of popping the question soon?”

“Ah, well…” Franco said, nervous now. It hadn’t occurred to him that it was an engagement ring. 

The rep laughed. “Well, this one’s from the new collection, expertly crafted. Usually goes for around $130,000, but that’s just with the base without any modifications.”

Franco choked on his own saliva. He certainly wasn’t making that much money yet, and besides, he didn’t know if his little working-class heart could ever justify spending that much money on a shiny rock. 

But for you? Anything. 

The rep could sense his hesitation. “Well, if you decide to go for it, here’s my card. Maybe we can work something out.” Franco nodded and accepted the card, stowing it away in his wallet after he changed out of his suit. 

Once you arrived home, the mountain of makeup and hairspray that you were both still covered in acted as the perfect excuse for a shower together.

As Franco lathered shampoo into your hair, he whispered, “You looked beautiful today.”

You smiled. “I felt beautiful.”

The photos were released a few weeks later, sending the internet into chaos. 

YN!?!?!?! CAN FRANCO FIGHT?

Does YN know that we’d all kill to be her right now

The hand placement!! The look in his eyes!!! That man is IN LOVE!!!!!

You chuckled to yourself as you read through the comments on your Instagram post. 

You saw the most important comment: the one from Franco. 

Eres el amor de mi vida <3 

You felt butterflies rise up in your stomach as you tapped the little heart to like the comment, as if that same man wasn’t taking you to the F1 Grand Prix Gala in Monaco tonight. 

You wanted nothing more than to walk in on his arm, basking in the glow of the photoshoot. It wasn’t just the glamor of the shots or the makeup that made you feel better; it was Franco. The way he looked at you like you were a goddess—you finally understood what he meant when he said he wanted you to see yourself as he saw you. 

As you donned the loaned dress from the same brand—less extravagant than the gown from the shoot, but still gorgeous—you were so thankful you had let Franco talk you into this. 

Everyone was abuzz at the event, and you were getting kudos left and right from strangers, which was slightly embarrassing, but you soaked in the attention anyway. But the best feeling was your lover’s hand at the small of your back, guiding you through the crowded ballroom.

You stepped out onto an empty balcony, drinking in the clear night air, now alone from the crowd. Of course, he followed like a lost puppy. 

“Mi amor,” he said as you leaned against the ledge, “I don’t know what’s more beautiful, you or the night sky.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “That’s too much, even for you.” 

“Maybe,” he joked. “And, maybe, we should get out of here. I’m tired of pretending to like all these old rich people.”

“That sounds lovely.”

You two sped home, where Franco wasted no time taking off your dress and decorating the floor with it.

“Let me worship you,” he said, grazing his lips over the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Don’t you already?” you joked, evidence of your returned confidence.

“I do,” he said, “because you’re divine. I want to taste you.” He grabbed your panties with his teeth, pulling them down slowly, enjoying the burning desire you both felt as his skin grazed against yours. 

But even now that he had you fully undressed, he still teased you, gently kissing your thighs, looking up into your eyes with every kiss. You pushed his hair back, softly inhaling with every inch of skin that his mouth touched. 

“Franco…”

“Mi ángel,” he exhaled. “Mi reina, mi cielo, mi vida.”

With a featherlight touch, he brought his mouth to your wetness, kissing your clit before rolling his tongue around the soaked bundle of nerves. Your breath hitched.

He brought two fingers to your entrance, teasing you until you were dripping with want for him. “You’re perfect. So perfect for me.”

His praise felt like your native tongue, the way your bodies and words naturally curved to each other, fitting together like you were made for this. 

He echoed your thoughts, continuing, “You take me so well.” He curled his fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside of you that made you see stars, eliciting a moan. 

“I live to pleasure you, mi amor.” He brought his mouth back to your clit, pointing his tongue and swirling circles around it as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. 

You squirmed under him, overcome by the pleasure of both his hands and his words. As he continued his movements, he never shifted his gaze from you.

But you looked away, to the mirror in the corner that had been moved as you got ready. You had a perfect view of Franco pleasuring you, and God, was the sight beautiful. 

Franco saw you looking and stopped, eliciting a frustrated whine from you. 

“Come here,” he said, climbing on the bed. “Keep facing the mirror.” He positioned himself behind you, grabbing your chin to keep your face straight as you both gazed at your reflections. “I want you to watch me fuck you. I want you to see how perfect you look when I take you.”

You wordlessly nodded, loving the vulnerability of being at the mercy of the man who worshipped you. 

As Franco unwrapped and put on a condom behind you, you studied the patches of red that colored your cheeks, flushed from your lover having nearly brought you to the brink of orgasm only moments before. 

He spanked you and you playfully yelped. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off this mirror.”

“What if I do?” you asked. “Will you punish me?”

He spanked you again, the other side this time. “Don’t even think about it.” 

Then, slowly, he placed his hands on your hips and found his way to your entrance, filling you with a swift but gentle motion. You both let out a low moan. 

“Even your pussy is perfect,” he said as he began to move. “Taking every inch of me.”

“Yes,” you moaned. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, increasing his pace and intensity, making you scream. “I want to fuck this pussy every day for the rest of my life.”

His words went through one ear and out the other; you couldn’t focus with his fucking you into the mattress with every thrust.

You cried and closed your eyes, hanging your head as you tried to hold back the waves of pleasure that were building in your core. But Franco roughly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back up.

“What did I tell you? Look at yourself, getting fucked like the perfect little whore you are.” You loved it when Franco was a little rough with you, but combined with the praise, it nearly sent you over the edge.

“Now,” he said, slowing down his pace, “since you didn’t do what I told you, you don’t get to cum.”

You whined in protest as Franco pulled out, leaving you feeling cold and empty. “Please,” you begged. 

He laid down on the bed. “If you want it, do it yourself,” he teased. “Ride me. If you want to cum, you have to watch as you make yourself cum on my cock.” 

You didn't argue, instead just obeying and sinking yourself down on him. You watched in the mirror as he disappeared in you, mesmerized by the way your bodies connected. 

His hands found your waist again as you began to bounce on him, chasing your release with an relentless pace. 

“Fuck, Franco, I’m close—” you moaned, and you felt his hand come down hard on your ass again. 

“Are you watching?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell me how beautiful you look.” If he had said this at any time other than in the heat of your passion, you would have cringed. But now, moments away from an orgasm, you obeyed.

“I fit perfectly on top of you,” you began with a shaky voice. “And I look…I look perfect riding your cock.”

“What else?”

“I look beautiful covered in your love bites.”

“Good girl,” he growled, matching your pace, fucking up into you. “My perfect, beautiful girl.”

With his final statement of praise, you shook, letting yourself drown in waves of pleasure as he continued fucking you through it. 

He had switched back to Spanish now, babbling away what you assumed to be your praises as he chased his own orgasm, quickly finishing from the heavenly feeling of your walls gripping around him. 

When you all collapsed in a pile next to each other, he threw an arm around you, wordlessly holding you in his embrace. His words could never truly make it better, he knew that.

But thankfully, his words weren't needed anymore. Now, you believed him. 

[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

 Edward The Freak Munson was your first love.

(In more than one way).

(None of them ended up well).

High school Edward was something. Jean and leather, band t-shirts and patches. The shiny chains were still there. He had picked up guitar and stuck with it, as you found out at the talent show. His hair and his opinions had grown.

And his big, sad eyes were still there.

He had a reputation now: dangerous, freaky, dark. Maybe it was true. Maybe it had always been. It was just that people took a while to realize. He was the same over dramatic, fun, imaginative boy you had lost. Except that he took his drama all the way up to the tabletops of the cafeteria now.

It was hard not to enjoy the show. It was even harder to wonder how would it be to know him again. He had so much determination and sarcasm, he was so over the way the world worked, so full of disdain and passion… As someone who had served under the Queen’s orders- even if it was a fantasy queen, years ago, in the battlefield that was kindergarten-, you wanted to be loved by him.

How would anyone not want to be worthy of his love?

You knew better, of course. He had distanced himself. And yeah, maybe it had been a long time ago, but why should you give him another chance? No, sir. You didn’t have many things, but your pride was something no one could take from you.

Besides, he had never asked for another chance.

But he was fucking everywhere. He had founded the coolest club in the whole state. His van took up half the parking lot, a lighthouse in the middle of a naked shore. His hair was impossible to miss in the hallway, and your lunches were plagued by him and his stupidly interesting speeches. He even showed up at every party, ready to supply the sheeples with the only best weed in Hawkins.

And not once, in any of those scenarios, were you the object of his attention.

You could have stayed away, of course. It was just a matter of willpower. But your curiosity was bigger. Also, the sheet to sign up for Hellfire Club ended up being taped to the wall right next to your locker. It had to be a sign, if fate could be any more literal: just sign the sign.

It was a terrible idea. Made your nerves skyrocket and your appetite disappear, and your hands were trembling more than usual. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go back if it turned out to be as awful of an experience as you feared.

It was much, much worse: your first day at Hellfire was amazing. You had actual fun- something you hadn’t had in years, if you were honest. The boys were nice in a warm way, talking over each other and, frankly, more excited about the game than you. It was great, because it didn’t make you feel like a guest, but like you belonged.

And Edward welcomed you.

After years without talking to you, without even glancing at you, he smiled and bowed, arms wide as if to show you his kingdom.

“Be welcome to our humble table, mighty lady. Be prepared to face more adventure than you’ve ever heard of, more danger than you can fear and to conquer more victories than anyone can dream.”

He acted that way with everyone. And he lied.

You had heard of that much adventure, sure as hell. Actually, some of his adventures sounded familiar- they were detailed evolutions of childhood games.

But you fell for it anyway. It was good to be back home.

Even if he stabbed you in the back every now and then.

After the first session, as everyone was tidying up, he had cocked his head at you.

“We used to play together when we were kids, didn’t we? You’re not as boring as you look.”

And he had the audacity to wink, as if it would do anything but burn. So you punched back.

“Oh… Did we? I have a pretty bad memory. Sorry.”

Cue innocent and nonchalant shoulder shrug, finished off with a tight lip smile.

The second time Edward Munson broke your heart was worse, because you saw it coming. And you still followed him, like a reflection on a dark mirror, like you had no choice but to help him shatter you.

Second part! The next one is Eddie's POV! Please comment or reblog if you like it, that really motivates me to keep writing! Also, my inbox is always open (not just for requests and ideas about fics, you can also come say hi and tell me about your day or whatever you want to talk about). If you want me to add you to the taglist, just let me know!

Taglist: @arabellagreenleaf , @stylesxmunson , @am0iur

[4suke]

anatomy of a breakup.

kuroo tetsurou x reader. angst, exes post-breakup, oneshot crossposted on ao3 as higashikatas.

you don’t get it.

it keeps you up at night, it takes your mind away from schoolwork, it makes you replay every single moment of the last year and a half and all the years of friendship before, and you still don’t get it. 

you’ve pulled apart every interaction both by yourself and with yaku, who has been nothing if not kind and patient and supportive and so simply unlike himself… and so like himself at the same time because yaku morisuke is nothing if not the best friend you will ever have. far too many evenings have been spent starfished on his too-big bed with his beloved weighted penguin plush on top of you, while the guy himself paces around alternating between sitting beside you or at his tiny desk-chair. he’d never been good at sitting still, less so when the topic of conversation upset him just as deeply as it did you. 

you wish feelings made sense. even the mere thought brought a fresh wave of pain, because it had never been you who had wanted the logical side of things. it has always been him, while you had laughed and patted his elbow placatingly. you wish a lot of things made sense, actually, but they didn’t and there was also nothing you could do about any of them. so you wallow in your heartbreak and let the voice at the back of your mind call you pathetic until it goes hoarse.

there’s no space for recovery. you’re in close proximity to tetsurou at almost all times- if not physically, then in the framed photograph on your nightstand you can’t bring yourself to throw away, or in the matching phone wallpapers that all the volleyball team bar two (yaku, out of consideration for you, and kenma out of sheer stubbornness) have, or in the group chat that still floods your phone every night. in kenma’s not-so-secret private instagram, in kai’s shared google photo album, in lev’s clumsy little wannabe vlogs, in yaku pretending he isn’t in the same room as you when tetsurou calls. most of all, he’s in your own head- you hold so many memories of him you might just burst. 

you wish the world would stop. stop reminding you of him, stop existing with him in it, stop existing with the both of you in it- anything would be preferable. but the earth refuses to stop spinning because you’re sad, and you wish that the earth didn’t have quite so much of kuroo tetsurou in it. 

(funnily enough, that isn’t the only impossible thing you wish for.)

the earth will not stop spinning, and your friends will not let you stay rooted in the muck of feelings he left you in. you continue to eat lunch with the second-years (on all five days of the week instead of just two now), you continue to walk the first-years home when they stay back late for practice (you do it alone now), you continue to poke fun at taketora and lev over the post-game bowls of ramen and you continue to treat inuoka like your long-lost son. you continue to crack a smile at fukunaga's puns and you continue to beg kai for homework answers over text mere hours before the deadlines. you continue to smile at tetsurou in greeting, continue to stay back when he asks you to discuss their prospects at nationals with coach nekomata, continue to offer to clean up the gyms every other day so he can head home to take care of his grandmother. the heavy knot of heartbreak still hangs like dead weight inside your rib cage, but as long as you continue complaining about kenma’s god awful sleep schedule and continue nodding energetically at snippets of songs that play when yaku slips you his earbuds, you can gloss over the way tetsurou hurt you. 

you get used to the weight with time. it doesn’t fade, but your friends seem to notice a difference even though they say nothing about it. kenma stops hiding his instagram stories from you when he posts another tetsurou grandpa moment. yaku stops sending you cautious glances during practices. taketora finally stops treating you like you’re about to break and starts clamouring for you to join the team bonding sessions once again. 

you aren’t fooled, though. your pain isn’t the kind of scar that heals up cleanly and quickly. you’re fighting to pretend you’re fine, existing this close to kuroo tetsurou and ignoring every instinct that screams at you to quit your post as nekoma’s volleyball manager and beg your parents to let you transfer to itachiyama.

the only thing that makes it hard to stick to the track, unsurprisingly, tetsurou is himself. 

he isn’t even trying. he’s normal again, and you know him well enough to tell that he (unlike you) is not faking a thing. there’s no internal conflict behind the large honest eyes every time he nods at you in greeting, no hesitation or pain echoing across his mind when he casually throws himself onto the couch between you and kenma on movie night and slings an arm across the back of the sofa inches from your head and shoulders. 

that , at least, makes sense, you think to yourself, walking home alone after a night out at the arcade with the team. he was the one who broke up with you so why should he feel any of the pain? why should he feel the ghosts of your touch on the sides of his face and the insides of his wrists every time he absentmindedly brushes against you in a crowded hallway? why should he lie awake at night trying not to think about the feeling of your arms curled around his waist when you used to nap together during free periods? 

he has no reason to agonize over something he chose to end, you know. rationalizing it doesn’t make it better.

the messy cannonball of emotions tucked neatly between your ribcage’s left walls wouldn’t hurt half as bad if it was another thing you shared with tetsurou, you think bitterly, wrapping your scarf tighter around your face. but life is unfair and this is the one thing you don’t share. you’re unbalanced. kuroo is fine and you are not.

you skip the next team outing. you sit in your bathtub, lukewarm water up to your shoulders with your head pressed against your arms, and you don't get it.

[daceydeath]

Sign Here

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader Word Count: 1.1K Genre: Suggestive (but not smut) Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Sex, NDA,

You're brought backstage by a SKZ staff member for some reason...

You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, just like everyone else in the stadium, he was mesmerizing every body roll sending the blood rushing from your brain to much much lower. He was sexy as hell and he knew it. You had been there all afternoon, watched soundcheck and watched him for hours they had all waved, made finger hearts and blew kisses to the crowd as they ran around the stage playing around and just having fun when you first noticed his subtle double take. Second song in he stayed in your area of the stage and after they had left the stage to get ready for the actual performance a woman in all black came down from the backstage area and wandered alone the barrier looking at a small piece of paper and then checking the crowd. She approached you after looking you over a few times

"Afternoon miss, do you have a moment?" She asked sternly gesturing for you to follow her towards an emptier area of the barricade

"Oh, of course. Is something wrong?" You nodded looking over yourself again in case there was something you had on you that you weren't meant to. Sure you were holding your phone but you weren't taking photos during soundcheck there were too many security and you didn't want to have your phone confiscated or worse be forced to leave.

"After the show tonight I would ask you to stay in your seat until I collect you. Is that possible?" She continued looking more friendly "I also need to make sure you are over 18".

"Yeah, I mean yes I am older than 18 and I can stay seated" you blinked unsure if you should be just blindly agreeing to her requests.

"Thank you, enjoy the show" she smiled, allowing you to move back to your seat. You smiled in return, moving to sit back down and wait a couple of hours until the show and mull of the decision you just made. If all else failed and you lost your nerve you could just leave before she came back to get you and no one would be the wiser.

Jeongin rolled his hips again and your mouth watered he had made sure you were aware that he was the one who had sent the woman to find you maintaining his stare whenever he was near you only breaking eye contact when he had to move around the stage. After drenching you with water at the end of show you were sure that there had been extra effort to saturate your side of the stage you were getting cool in the chilled night air when the woman returned and beckoned you to follow her around the barricade to where stage hands were coming and going between large blacked out fences.

"I will explain a few things before anything further happens" she started talking as though the pair of you were acquaintances "You can tell me or any other member of the staff team that you want to leave and we will immediately escort you out of the venue, I was requested to find you to meet with Mr Yang to speak in a little more private setting anything that happens after that is entirely your decision".

"Um... Yeah sure" you agreed politely, anxiety rising in the pit of your stomach.

"If you could just wait in here for him, he won't be too long" she finished opening the door to a small room that must have been part of the rooms set up for the teams staff a few couches, tables and fridges were in the room "help yourself to something to drink there is a bathroom through that door".

Leaving you alone you grabbed a bottle of water and sipped it slowly before going to check if you could clean yourself up a little you were still in wet clothes that were sticking to you and you were sure your makeup and hair were looking awful from your dancing, jumping and singing so if you could even slightly fix that up it would help. After having tried your best and at least getting rid of the smudged make up so you looked more presentable you sat on a couch and waited. There was a knock at the door which made you suck in a hard breath.

"Hello" he grinned his eyes landing on you pleased you were still waiting where they had left you.

"Hi" you whispered, swallowing hard as he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"I'm Jeongin, I’m sorry for all the clandestine meeting stuff but I couldn’t just walk over and speak to you without causing chaos” he continued his voice soft and sweet as he walked over to you to offer you his hand to shake.

“I know who you are” you smiled taking his hand “but I understand the whole sneaking around but actually, it makes sense” you admitted before introducing yourself.

“It’s absolutely my pleasure to meet you” Jeongin sat offering you a spot beside him.

“How does this usually work?” you asked, your nerves leaking into your voice.

“Well” he smiled brilliantly, his eyes twinkling in the light “If you are alright with spending the night with me you sign a document and come back to the hotel with me. But if you aren’t we can take a few selfies together as a thank you for your time and you can leave whenever you like” he almost purred sensually stepping closer to you. You blinked a few times realizing this was literally a dream come true for you and if you thought any longer your logical side would stuff the opportunity up for you.

“Where do I sign?” you whispered, swallowing hard as you watched Jeongins eyes darken slightly, his smile morphing into a sly smirk.

“Right here” he chuckled darkly, moving to open the door to the hallway where a staff member was waiting with a piece of paper and a pen. Jeongin took the paper and handed it to you “I’m supposed to tell you to read it but it just says you can’t tell anyone about what happens tonight”.

“No one would believe me anyway” you licked your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you took the page and signed your name.

“So you’re all mine tonight then” He grinned again only this time with a distinctly more predatory feel to it. You nodded mutely as the staff member disappeared down the hall and Jeongin shut the door again reaching out for your hand, which you gave him easily. His lips crashing into yours roughly making you gasp “Oh you're a sensitive one? This will be a night to remember then”.

a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies xx

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[amygdalae]

Is finding the right person that easy or are you insanely lucky?

i think I just got really lucky. I mean I've been single for years before this with terrible luck wrt dating

I met this guy in my (really awful, worst professor I've ever had) stats class last semester; the first few weeks of a semester I tend to put extra effort into my outfits and like 2 weeks in he came up to me b4 class to say he noticed my outfits and loved what I did w accessories and whatnot. It struck me as a thoughtful compliment. Ashamed to admit I decided to keep dressing well cuz I'm an attention whore and he was hot

I wasn't really expecting the attention but we ended up chatting before and after class a lot throughout the semester and slowly got a lil bit closer. I usually go into most classes wanting to keep my head down cuz I'm a bit shy but he seemed chill and easy to talk to which coaxed me out of my shell a bit.

I kept thinking I was for sure getting flirty vibes but I was worried it was wishful thinking cuz he's so cute. At one point though I noticed him like. Slowly shamelessly eye me up and down which was a good indicator. And then when we were talking he told me I have a cool brain and I was like 🤯

Eventually we had a study group where it was finally like ok he's definitely flirting with me so afterwards I texted him saying we shld get a drink sometime and he agreed and now we've had 4 dates! I just lucked out that he's also bi and likes video games and is a switch like me

Anyways he's a fun hot goofy weirdo pervert. I dunno if he's the "right" person cuz capital L Love and commitment might not be in the cards here but we're having a sexy and romantic time and the connection is definitely deeper and more intimate than a mere fwb deal so I'm satisfied

Oh Christ sorry for the essay lol but TL;DR the moral of the story is put yourself out there. I might not have seen this guy again had i not asked him out; I almost didn't cuz I was so nervous. I've been trying to let my hunger for human connection take the reigns over my anxiety which is fucking hard but has been immensely rewarding

[thelonelyshore-if]

Assuming we’re not romancing the RO how good of a wingman would each RO be?

This is such a fun ask; answers under the cut c:

Beck: I don't actually think they'd be great at it tbh. They can be pretty charming and would totally hype you up, but they're also distractable and the second the other person even mildly annoys them they'd be like 'red flag, you're actually not good enough for my friend ://'

Croft: the mental image of this made me legitimately laugh. Bad. Croft would be a VERY BAD wingman. They not only completely lack charisma but they'd think the entire thing was pointless and stupid. They'd insult the other person to their face and then wander back over to you like 'they weren't interested. can we please leave.'

Jay: would be a great wingman tbh. They love their friends so they wouldn't hesitate to talk you up to the other person. They're normal and charming/friendly enough to not scare them off with bad vibes. They want the best for you. Best possible wingman of the group.

Perri: has pretty bad social anxiety so the idea of talking to a random stranger--even if it's to help you out--would bring them close to tears. If they were playing wingman and the other person was someone they know, it would only be... slightly better. They Do Not Like Talking To People.

Ravi: would be awful at it but oh my god can you imagine. He'd actually try, unlike Croft, but he'd be so offputting and strange about it. Probably he'd immediately start telling the other person about the time you almost drowned, and then be like 'they have an incredible proclivity for survival :)' and then would walk away feeling proud of himself.

Yasmin: in theory would be the next best after Jay...but she's terribly direct. She doesn't have much interest in subtly so instead of quietly hyping you up and being chill about it she'd straight up just be like, 'my friend is interested in you; they're gorgeous and cool. go talk to them.' She most likely thinks she's better at it than she actually is.

[eyneyke]

Mad Max

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 38 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Max gets hate

Max playing with fans that Sam’s "boyfriend" is the worst guy ever while he's secretly talking about himself. Here’s how it went down in interviews, with Max just throwing out ridiculous comments as fans don’t realise are about himself:

Video 1: Max Being Asked If He Knows Sam’s Boyfriend

In a post-quali interview, a journalist casually asks Max if he knows anything about Sam’s mysterious partner, and Max goes all in.

Max (sighing dramatically): "Oh, yeah. I know who is his boyfriend. Absolute bore of the guy. I mean, who dates someone and just, like, smiles all day at work? It's super annoying, honestly. Bet he leaves dishes everywhere. But Sam seems happy I guess."

Fans’ Comments:

User 415: "MAX! He called Sam’s boyfriend a douchebag, I’m dead😂"

User 416: "The shade! lmao But now we at least know it's a boyfriend"

User 417: "It’s so weird that Max dislikes Sam’s boyfriend so much. Maybe he’s jealous?"

User 418: "Max throwing shade like he doesn’t care at all, but lowkey I bet he’s just protective of Sam."

Video 2: Max Going Overboard About Sam’s Boyfriend

After the race, Max is being interviewed again, and the journalist mentions Sam’s boyfriend, asking Max what he thinks about him. Max rolls his eyes and goes full throttle on the sarcasm.

Max (mock serious): "Oh, Sam’s boyfriend? Total nightmare. He’s always trying to keep him away from work, texting all the time, sending these stupid, sappy messages. I mean, seriously? It’s embarrassing. And don’t get me started on his sense of humor. It’s awful. Just terrible. I mean, Sam says he is happy but he could do so much better." (Max smirks, clearly having fun with it.)

Fans' Comments:

User 419: "Max is being brutal. Sam’s boyfriend must’ve really done something to piss him off! 😂"

User 420: "‘He could do so much better’ – Max is not holding back at all. Damn."

User 421: "Max: ‘Sappy messages are embarrassing. He is trying to keep him off work.’ Also Sam during one of Pewdiepie's streams: 'Max is spamming me because he is bored and I'm not giving him attention.'"

User 422: "Imagine if Sam’s boyfriend sees this interview, Max is gonna get in trouble for sure, lol."

Video 3: Max Chatting With Daniel Ricciardo About Sam’s Boyfriend

In the paddock, a fan caught Max and Daniel chatting during a break in the background of their video. Daniel brings up Sam’s boyfriend, and Max just unleashes his sarcasm.

Daniel (laughing, sees the fans and cameras on them): "So, Sam’s boyfriend... What’s he like?"

Max (grinning): "Oh, you wouldn’t believe it, Dan. He’s just the worst. Always interrupting Sam as he's working at the garage, thinking he’s super important. Like, dude, nobody cares! He’s one of those guys who thinks he’s really smart but can’t even remember to charge his phone before it's at 1%. And don’t even mention how clingy he is. He’s always blowing up Sam’s phone. It’s honestly pathetic."

Daniel (snickering): "Sounds like a real catch."

Max (deadpan): "Oh, yeah. Sam really hit the jackpot with this one."

Fans’ Comments:

User 423: "Max out here tearing Sam’s boyfriend to pieces, and Daniel just losing it in the background😂"

User 424: "‘Thinks he’s important but has to be reminded to charge his phone’ – Max’s insults are on another level!"

User 425: "Max is really out here hating this guy like it’s personal. I love it."

Video 4: Max Getting Questioned by Lando Norris About Sam’s Boyfriend

During a playful exchange between Max and Lando, the subject of Sam’s boyfriend comes up again, and Max wastes no time.

Lando (curious): "So, what’s the deal with Sam’s boyfriend? Is he cool?"

Max (overly dramatic): "Cool? No way. He’s clingy, needy, and always acting like he’s so funny when he has a really weird sense of humor. Absolute nightmare. And the worst part is that Sam seems to actually, genuinely like him. Like, he can do so much better."

Lando (laughing): "Sounds rough."

Max (with a grin): "Oh, you have no idea. I wouldn’t wish that guy on anyone."

Fans' Comments:

User 426: "Max really said Sam’s boyfriend has a weird sense of humor. 😂 Savage!"

User 427: "Max’s sarcasm is next level, I’m dying. He’s roasting this guy so bad!"

User 428: "Max is so protective of Sam, it’s actually adorable."

User 429: "I swear Max is sooo jealous. There’s no way he is okay with losing all the Sam-time he was used to!"

Video 5: Max Being Extra Dramatic About Sam’s Boyfriend to the Media

During another interview, Max was asked if he had any idea why Sam liked this “boyfriend” of his so much, as Max apparently hates him, and Max decided to just run with the joke.

Max (fake thinking): "Honestly? No clue. I mean, the guy’s a disaster. I mean he got lost in the garage a few days ago and ended up in Aston Martin. But Sam? Oh, Sam’s all about him. It’s confusing, really. But hey, love is blind, right?"

Journalist (laughing): "Really? Is he that bad?"

Max (nodding seriously): "Absolutely. Sam deserves so much better. I’ve tried to talk sense into him, but what can you do? Some people are just into lost causes."

Fans’ Comments:

User 430: "MAX. Just when I thought he couldn’t go harder. ‘Got lost in the garage and ended up in AM garage’? This man’s on a mission to ruin this guy’s reputation."

User 431: "Max is roasting the boyfriend so hard, I’m almost starting to feel bad for him."

User 432: "The sarcasm is too real. Sam’s boyfriend is either the worst or Max is trolling us all."

User 433: "Love how Max cares so much about Sam’s relationship, like he’s Sam’s bestie, haha"

User 434: “Max here trying to make us hate this guy before we even know who he is.”

Max clearly enjoyed running with the joke, and the fans ate it up. Every interview where he described this “terrible boyfriend,” he was just taking shots at himself, knowing that what he is speaking is the truth. Sam loved talking with Max at the end of the day about what Max now said online. Meanwhile, Christian and Newey are just smirking behind the scenes, amused by how long Max can keep this act going. Fans were none the wiser, and Max’s exaggerated, sarcastic digs only fueled the mystery further, making everyone even more desperate to figure out who Sam’s “boyfriend” really was.

[just-null]

*gives null his favorite things in hopes of thinking about this*

What if, from all the stalking the Hantengu clones had done to their darling, their darling develops a lot of paranoia and doesn't let anyone near anymore?

Or maybe their darling has a lot of trauma from man going awful, unspeakable things to them?

((I don't know if I should refer to their darling as female or male and that's my first time ever asking a favorite creator of mine, please don't judge me))

((the Darling can be whatever you want them to be, but I'll always be as neutral as possible, so don't worry! 🐸💖))

Considering that these men are also horrible, it's not surprising at all to find yourself going insane! I wasn't sure whether not letting anyone close included the boys or not, so I did both!

[Cw! Yandere behavior, unhealthy dynamics, obsession, manipulation]

Your sudden shift was wonderful at first! They finally had you all to themselves, and it gave them so much more time to evenly spread your attention between themselves without getting into usual fights.

When finding out about your paranoia, they feed into it, affirming your fears about others just to have you rely on them further. Never stray too far, not like you can, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

Do you want to go out but you're too scared? Wait, right there, they need to decide who goes first to clear the way while the others stay close by!! that way no one will bother you!

Their favorite hobby is stealing—er—borrowing! so you don't even need to worry about something as silly as money or finance to get what you want again!! All you need to do is ask, and it's yours.

Their bias is prominent. Where hantengu would yelp and shout, they'd laugh and scold, but if you were to do the same, they'd comfort and coo. It's cute.. do you want them to get rid of something for you? Hold you? Comfort you?

Nothing really annoys them (aside from each other) now that you fully rely on them. Be as clingy and jumpy as you want, and they'll coddle you. Being spoiled rotten is the goal as long as you continue to cower at the sight of another soul or the thought of being alone.

They almost seem like decent lovers at some point, solely focusing on you and your needs. Jealousy is at an all time low now that they don't have to worry about anyone else. They even begin to hide their violent tendencies, too happy that you're with them to care.

It gets to the point where THEY had to be the ones to leave for important tasks lest they be.. "scolded" by a man you don't need to stress over.

It's devastating when they separate from you.. When they fight, their attacks are ruthless. Brutal. Bloody.. Even Urogi and Karaku are more productive because the image of their beloved all alone and trembling has their unbeating hearts aching.

Even with all this, they're still scummy rats who work together to make sure things go their way.

Sekido doesn't rile up your paranoia unless you insist on going somewhere alone. "Be careful, don't wander off. Yell and I'll go get you, who knows what's out there." He's content with your fears already. In fact, he's.. sweeter. He doesn't get as mad as he used to, only slightly irritated.

Seeking him out to protect you from something small gets the most blissed out expression from him momentarily. His hold is still as firm as ever, but he doesn't insult you as harshly. Quiet grumbles like "Such a baby.. what is it this time?" are frequent, yet he does whatever you want.

Karaku is NOT helping at all. Ever since he noticed you got jumpier, he thought it'd be fun to make you squirm, though he probably teases too much and makes you cry.. Pointing and gasping at nothing, making noises from other rooms, asking, "Did you hear that?" until you're visibly shaking from every little creak.

But it's okay. He opens his arms every time and pets your head, cooing at you, "D'aww, don't start the waterworks, c'mere. I'll knock it off, I was just playing..! Even if I wasn't, you really think I'd let something get you? Never!"

Urogi probably will give you terrifying heart attacks. Because you're so dependent on them now, he can't contain his love for you the second he sees you. One second, you're conversing with one of the boys, then the next a blur of feathers and glowing yellow eyes barrels towards you, toppling you to the floor.

He can hear your heart beating through your chest as he presses his ear against it. He loves the sound!! "Did I scare you again? Hahaha!! You know it's only me who does this to you!! Anybody else would be dead before they even made contact. I love how warm you are, the thump of your heart, the feel of your skin, everything about you makes me too happy!!"

Aizetsu is your worst enemy.. He needs a damn bell! Each step is too quiet, and he knows this. it's purposeful. You need to remember why you're paranoid in the first place, so he lurks around, letting you find him if he's feeling kind or giving you that feeling of being watched if he's not. He doesn't do it for long, preferring to be the one you hold instead of watching the others make an opportunity out of his methods.

When he lets you find him, he pouts, tilting his head as if you're the one who intruded on him. "Dont mind me, I'm making sure everywhere is safe. Did you need something..? Or did you feel how much i missed you? Oh, you're so nice to me.."

———

But then.. you began growing distant towards them.

They're not sure what happened. Honestly, they might take it as rejection at first and double down until they notice you're TERRIFIED. They pause and regroup, planning their next course of action.

They're not as aggressive, just confused and hurt. Attempts to be considerate come off very stiff, but they're trying. They can tell you're not faking it. The terror in your eyes is undeniable.

They do a 180 and fight often when alone, blaming others, then each other for being too much on you. Their muffled yelling and thumping from fighting are loud enough that you hear, though they try making it up to you later.

Even if they're extremely upset about it, they put their feelings aside for you. There's no use talking to someone who won't listen.

Their attitudes get a lot more cautious but desperate. They've dealt with Hantengu's jumpiness and constant crying before, but being the cause in your case makes this more complicated..

They attempt to give you your space, and insist you stay home. Don't like the home you have? They'll find you a new one, a better one, and promise not to get too close. Give them some time. After that, they get rid of any external factors that could be harmful to you.

Unsurprisingly, they can't help themselves and will try to approach and speak to you, even if behind a wall or at a distance. Probably set up a wall divider just so you don't feel as scared to speak to them.

They're desperate and want what they once had with you.. please don't shut them out. this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Emotional reassurance isn't their strong suit (ironically). They never comfort anybody, not even Hantengu. Combat is their expertise! In their mind, fixing the problem outside will fix the problem inside ..At least, fingers crossed that they do.

It's because of those villains out there that you're so scared in the first place. What kind of disgusting shameless bastards assume they get the privilege to think of you, much less be near you?! The second they know what these "men's" faces look like, their insides will decorate the ground and-!

Ahem—

Let's just say they took a page from Akaza's book and treat men a little meaner than women. As in, making sure at least one bone of theirs is broken if they so much as breathe in your direction.

During the attempt at rehabilitation, they fall into roles according to how they handle you.

Sekido is your bodyguard that makes sure the others behave and you're taking care of yourself. His once long fuse shortened since he began blaming the others for your paranoia. He can't help but be protective. As much as he hates it, he won't focus on anything if he knows you're unwell. He doesn't say much aside from grunts and scoffs in hopes of not scaring you further.

Karaku tries to lighten the mood and fills the silence with stories about what he's seen throughout his life, excluding the violent and aggressive details. Maybe even random stories he's heard, just to try and get your mind off of whatever is troubling you. He doesn't speak directly to you but around you so that you'll probably overhear.

Urogi is the material comfort, bringing you gifts that the others check before they get left outside your room. The gifts aren't as ripped or scratched as they would usually be, but that's because he's trying extra hard to give you something that'll hopefully make you feel better! With his talons and excitement, Urogi doesn't see you as much anymore unless it's through the window when you're asleep.

Aizetsu is the one who frequently speaks to you. He loves gathering information about you and hearing you speak in general. It's a pity you speak less, and when you do, there's a slight tremble.. it's cute, but you sound so miserable.. His airy, soft voice and gentle attitude grow sweeter when announcing himself, "How are you feeling? it kills me to see you like this.. please, tell me what to do to make everything better.”

The eyes you feel get worse since they're overprotective of you. At least they're not as secretive about it! They're insistent and happy that you avoid other people all together, though it'd be much better if they were an exception!

[remedyturtles]

for the writing ask meme: disaster twins bc i am nothing if not predictable aaaaand ur pick of 8, 22, 29 or 42 if u would like :3

thank you my dearest russothy @rbtlvr for the prompt! this got away from me and also went in so many different directions lmao... snugs hope you like it :D

wordcount 2.7k, pre-series

22. "...you knew?"  29. "Tell me the truth."

"I've definitely got a unicorn horn." Leo said, holding up the puzzle piece. 

"Which one?" Donnie propped up the box lid. 

The two inspected, comparing the angle with the reference, covered in a multitude of unicorns.

"Hard to tell." Leo set the piece aside, with his other collection of possible key points. They'd only just finished the border, spread out the bedroom floor. They were twelve years old. They were both grounded. They were absolutely and intolerably bored. 

No TV. No phones. No lab time for Donnie, no skateboarding time for Leo. No amount of pleading with Raph or Mikey to smuggle them entertainment worked because they weren't happy either.

So it was the unicorn puzzle. And any other way they could pass the time. 

"It's your turn." Donnie said, flipping over a few middle pieces and sorting them into piles by colour. 

"Sure. Truth or dare." Leo plucked another horn-like piece with a pleased noise and tried to slot it with his first. It didn't fit. 

"Truth." Donnie said, after a moment.

"Wimp."

"I stand by my answer."

"Fine." Leo sighed, annoyed. "You're no fun. What is the last thing you looked up on the internet?"

"Pssh. Something absolutely genius, I'm sure." Donnie said. "But alas, we will never know, as I do not have my phone on me." 

"Hogwash." Leo said, mimicking his voice, "As if your eidetic memory doesn't know. I'm insulted on your own behalf that you would insinuate such a thing."

Donnie mentally ran back through his most recent searches and struggled not to cringe. A victorious smile spread over Leo's face, before he'd even said a word. 

"How'd you know it was going to be something stupid?" Donnie complained, ducking his head to pretend to sort his pieces more intently. 

Leo tapped his lip, milking his success. "Come on. You've got a thousand bookmarks on your computer for all your nerd stuff and overflowing shelves of paper books and manuals. If you need to Google something, then it's the bottom of the barrel questions." 

Donnie mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?" Leo leaned forward over the puzzle, grin growing to shit-eating.

"You heard me." Donnie's face flushed. 

"I'm not sure I did, because I'm pretty sure my genius prodigy Donatello knows exactly how many millimetres are in a centimetre." 

"I was just making sure!" Donnie complained loudly, snapping a hand out to push at Leo's face and shove him back to his side of the puzzle. "It's my turn now, shut up. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Leo answered, because he always said dare. 

"Shocker." Donnie deadpanned. "Fine. Eat a puzzle piece."

"Okay." Leo picked up the unicorn horn. Before Donnie could stop him, he placed the piece on his tongue, swallowed, and showed a decidedly empty mouth.

"Oh my stars, Leon, I didn't think you'd actually do it." Donnie said, stunned with the heights of his idiocy. 

"You dared me." Leo shrugged. "What did you expect?"

"We needed that!" 

"You cannot pretend this is my fault. You literally just told me to eat it." 

"I hate you. Alright, Curious George, it's your turn." 

Leo barked a laugh. He rearranged his collection of unicorn horn pieces, forever missing one now, and said, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Donnie wasn't a wimp. 

"Bet." Leo hopped up and immediately began digging in a drawer. "Close your eyes. Don't open them until I say so."

Instant regret. So much instant regret. Donnie didn't obey, tense all over, watching Leo with wariness. 

Leo found whatever he was looking for, keeping it behind his back when he turned around, and said, challenging, "Are you switching?"

If Donnie switched to truth, Leo would ask something really awful, and he'd have no choice but to answer as penalty. So Donnie scoffed, like that was a ridiculous question, and shut his eyes. 

Leo’s footsteps got closer and he sat in front of Donnie. He said, calm and mischievous, “I’m going to touch your face.”

With the warning, he didn’t flinch when Leo carefully removed his mask, placing it in Donnie’s hand. Then there was the sound of an uncapped pen, and a whiff of marker. 

“Hold still.” Leo said, fingers bracing Donnie’s head and setting the marker tip to his face, waiting a moment for him to adjust, then began to draw.

“Urgh.” Donnie said, holding still beyond his fingers fidgeting in his lap with the mask, eyes closed but recognizing the movement of the pen in two arcs over either eye. 

“There.” Leo said, removing the pen. “We match.”

Donnie opened his eyes to see Leo directly in front of him, something warm and fond before it eased back into gremlin mischief. “Feel beautiful?”

Donnie got up and looked at himself in the mirror. Dark red marker stripes were drawn carefully over his eyes, matching at the face grinning behind him. 

He rolled his eyes. He stomped over to the same drawer and said, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Leo said, already taking off his mask. 

Donnie found the black marker. “Close your eyes.”

Obediently, Leo shut his eyes, grinning too hard that it caused his forehead to wrinkle while Donnie moved his head around to get the perfect sharp and thick eyebrows. He put genuine effort into making them look good, because Leo had too. 

“Done.” Donnie said, releasing his hostage of Leo’s head.

Leo leapt up to the mirror and gave a wolf whistle. “Damn! That’s not bad.”

“I didn’t come here to fuck around.” Donnie replied. Looking at both of them in the mirror he wished he had his phone so he could get a picture. He flashed a peace sign anyway, like they were taking a selfie, and Leo automatically mimicked it. For a moment, he forgot the situation and grinned back at his twin through the mirror. 

Then he remembered why they were stuck in a room doing puzzles and dropped the peace sign, shuffling down to sort through the stacks. Leo watched him, the small frown made quite more serious by his impressive brows, then hopped over the half assembled puzzle to his side. “My turn?”

It was an invitation to stop, if Donnie wasn’t feeling it anymore. But it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. “Truth.”

"Do you regret it?" 

Donnie glared at him. 

Leo stared back at him, completely serious. 

"I'm switching. Dare." Donnie said. Whatever horrible thing Leo could concoct would be better than answering that. Even if it meant he had to do it, no matter what. 

"Fine." Leo shrugged. "I dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheating." Donnie lifted his lip in a sneer.

"Is it?" Leo challenged. There wasn't a specific rule against it. 

Donnie didn't answer him, turning to try and poke his various pieces together. Neither of them spoke for a while. The tense atmosphere reigned. 

"I regret that I got caught." Donnie said, eventually. "Which probably isn't what I'm supposed to feel." 

"So you'd do it again, if you felt you couldn't get caught?" Leo prompted, knuckles white in his lap. 

"Only one question. Your turn. Truth or dare." 

"Dare."

"I dare you to answer a truth." Donnie said, sharp. 

Leo's eyes narrowed. He couldn't claim it was cheating without being a hypocrite and he knew it. He rolled out a slow, "Fine. Ask."

"Why'd you take the fall with me?" Donnie was been dying to ask. Leo hadn't even known what Donnie was up to, and yet he stood in front of Dad and swore he'd been helping. 

Leo said, "Pssh, I thought you were gonna ask something hard. So you weren't grounded alone, obviously. And it'd be so boring if I couldn't hang out with you anyway. And so I could bug you about what the hell you were thinking. So. Truth or dare?"

Donnie would eat every piece of this puzzle if he didn't have to answer another truth. "Dare." 

"Wimp." Leo said, shark-grin. 

"Your standards for cowardice seem to change from moment to moment." Donnie said, mouth dry. 

Leo could easily pull the same move and insist he answer a truth, but with the tit-for-tat complete, to abuse the power would break the game. "It's fine. This one'll be real easy," his gaze hardened, "especially since it's what you should've been doing all along. I dare you to take me with you next time."

Donnie exhaled slowly through his nose, swallowing. He avoided Leo's eye, pretending he was super interested in placing his puzzle pieces. "Fine." 

"Promise?"

"Yeah, whatever."

He could feel Leo staring at the top of his head. He irritatedly poked a piece in place, the leg of a unicorn, and asked, "Truth or dare?"

"I'll do truth if you do." Leo bargained. 

A rare offer. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't help but take the bait. "Deal."

"Perfect. Hit me." 

Donnie could tell Leo was already formulating his next question. Unfortunately for him, Donnie got to ask first. "Tell me something you've never told anyone."

Leo grimaced. He didn’t answer for a long minute, eyes visibly ticking back and forth as he thought.  Then laughed, a little nervous, and said, "Alright. Okay." 

The nerves were interesting. Donnie poked, almost fascinated, "Scared?"

"No, I just –" Leo bit his lip and glanced up, fidgeting with a bunch of sky pieces. He was definitely nervous, breath quickening. "I've wanted to say, actually. So this seems as good a moment as any."

Oh, this was actually serious. Weird. Made weirder by the drawn-on brows. Donnie waited for more information before assuming anything. Leo delayed longer, killing time, and only to falter at Donnie's expression. 

"It's uh, not a big deal, but. I figured I should … tell you. That. I'm gay." Leo held his breath at the end of the sentence.

"Right." Donnie nodded. 

Leo blinked at him like an owl. "... you knew?"

"I… figured." Donnie evaluated the situation and determined a different reaction was needed, judging by the clear anxiety of Leo's face. This hadn't been what Donnie was expecting, because why would Leo be nervous about his reaction. "I did not consider it worth a second thought. You are my twin. There is nothing about you that I wouldn't accept without question."

"Oh. Okay." Leo inhaled shakily then let it out slowly. "Cool. That's cool. Don't tell anyone else yet, okay?"

"Like you even have to ask." Donnie scoffed. There was a code about these sorts of things, after all, twelve years in the making. He wasn't about to break their sacred bond now. "Do you need a hug?"

Leo crawled directly over the puzzle to climb into Donnie's arms. He squeezed so hard it squashed the air out of his lungs. He mumbled in Donnie's ear, "Thanks."

"I love you. If anyone has a problem with it, send them directly to me." Donnie's grip tightened to the point of Leo letting out an 'oof' too. 

"Love you too." Leo gave another squish then pulled back, a puzzle piece stuck to his bare leg. "Your turn."

"Now?" Donnie complained. "After we just had a moment?"

"And we're about to have another moment, bucko." Leo was close enough to poke Donnie directly in the plastron, pretending to be stern even as he was still a little shaky. "Your turn."

"Truth." Donnie sighed, fulfilling his end of the bargain. 

"Why'd you do it?" Leo asked, immediate. All young indignation, eyes shining with left-behind hurt, and a more incandescent worry that was mirrored in all the annoyed glares outside their door. 

“Scoff.” Donnie avoided his eye. “Surely you do not need to hold me at metaphorical gunpoint to ask that question when you already know the answer. I wanted uranium.”

"That's not why you did it." Leo said, expression all the more severe by the painted brows. He insistently poked Donnie in the middle of his plastron again. "I know you didn't want uranium just to have. There's always a purpose, a plan. Why?" 

"Multiple uses." Donnie said, tightly, through clenched teeth. "It doesn't matter. No one wants me to have it because they think I'll give myself radiation poisoning. Because it'll put me on a watch list. Because when I tried to sneak out and meet up with a seller I got caught. So it doesn't matter, because obviously no one here is going to let me."

"You're right about that, because you will give yourself radiation poisoning and sneaking off when you're a twelve-year-old mutant to meet up with some sketchy seller was a terrible idea. That's still not what I'm asking. Why?" Leo said, because despite pretending for everyone else that he was in on it the whole time, he was actually just as opposed as the rest of them at his failed scheme.

Donnie physically pushed Leo away, since he was still so close. "It doesn't matter! Okay! I can't do it, so it doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me. Because I'm asking." Leo insisted, hands braced backwards onto the puzzle and separating out the few pieces they'd gotten together. "It's truth, you have to answer."

"I could switch to dare." Donnie said, annoyed.

"Then I'd dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheap and you know it."

Leo just stared at him, still leaning back and waiting. Completely dead set and expectant that Donnie would crack. 

"There's nothing more to say." Donnie said, swallowing and feeling how his throat was sore. "I have projects that only a radioactive isotope can satisfy."

"Okay?" Leo prompted. Waiting for the expected info-dump. 

"Why do you care?" Donnie snapped. "Weapons. Big, powerful weapons, that would obliterate anyone who dared mess with our family. And – a-and unlimited power. And heat. For our home. Okay? Are you happy? Because we don't to have those things anyway, so it doesn't matter."

Grim triumph washed over Leo's expression, and he leaned forward to ask, "Do you think we'd want that at the expense of your life?"

"I wasn't going to die!" Donnie exclaimed. "And if I have the power to make our lives better, safer, more efficient, shouldn't I take it? Shouldn't I push the laws of the universe to give us everything we deserve when we're trapped underground like rats?"

"That stuff is pretty important, but it's not more important than you." Leo said, slowly. 

Donnie smacked his hand against the floor and blurted, "That's what I'm good for, so yeah, it is!"

Leo's expression flashed and he gave a low growl. He lunged forward and caught Donnie in a roll, sending the two of them tussling into the dresser. A loud thud made the wall shake. Donnie kicked Leo in the shins. Leo elbowed Donnie in the solar plexus. 

"Boys!" Splinter knocked loudly on the door. "No killing each other!"

"Yes Dad!" Donnie and Leo recited together, stalled mid-fight, waiting for the footsteps to disappear before struggling apart.

"What was that for?" Donnie rubbed his plastron, scowling.

"For basing your self worth on what you provide for this family." Leo straight up threw puzzle pieces at him, scattering unicorn bits all over the carpet. "Don't be ridiculous. You're so much smarter than that. If we only let people in because they're useful then I woulda been kicked out years ago."

"That's not true." Donnie protested. 

"That's not the point." Leo rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter who's useful or not. You're one of us forever. No take backs. You don't have to superfit the lair with big weapons and make us completely self-sustaining or whatever. Dad only let you start doing upgrades because you were having fun. If you're doing it to earn your place here then I'll burn your lab down."

"It's fun." Donnie said, quickly, because Leo had an affection for fire that should not be tempted. "Fine. I hear you. I will be satisfied with projects that bring me joy and not radiation poisoning. Can we finish this puzzle or did you actually swallow that piece?"

Leo's severe expression melted, and he reached behind Donnie's non-existent ear and revealed the unicorn horn piece flipping over his knuckles. "Looks like you had it rattling around in your big head this whole time."

"Hah. Caught you." Donnie grinned. "If you cheated on that dare now you gotta do one that's twice as bad." 

Leo swore.

[ultimate-marysue]

Identity drama but it's not Bruce "I am the cowl" Wayne or any of the angsty edgy kids either. Identity drama but it's Dick Grayson not recognizing himself in other people's eyes.

His family idolizes him to an unhealthy extreme. Most of his siblings are obsessed with him, look up to him, think he can do no wrong. He's Bruce's golden boy, the first boy wonder, always perfect despite never having been like that in his time as Robin.

Most of the Hero community treats him like the second coming of Jesus, like the absolute peak of what a vigilante should be. They talk about him like he's some sort of legend instead of a human being doing his best. It's flattering, but he isn't as awe inspiring.

Plenty of rogues and civilian friends see him as a himbo. The list of people genuinely and wholeheartedly thirsting over him like he's a slab of meat is concerning. Sure, he knows he's hot, he enjoys flirting. It's fun, but that's not his entire personality. People can get really weird about that kind of stuff, because sure, it's one thing to wink or wolf whistle and another to get weirdly parasocial.

Dick Grayson that gets back to Titan's Tower or to the Clocktower, back to his actual peers the people who have seen him grow up, and finally finds himself there. In Babs sarcastic comments or Kori's playful banter. In Wally's concerned look or Roy's teasing.

They have seen him at his worst: stupid, cocky, jealous, paranoid, rude, edgy, depressed... They don't fawn over his perceived virtues. His friends know he's a great vigilante, they trust him as their leader and value his competency... And yet they know he can make mistakes. They trust their own abilities, and they know Dick does as well. They see each other as equals and thus, there's no pedestal to put him on.

They know he's handsome, they might have had an embarrassing crush at some point, but his attractiveness doesn't change anything. They're used to it, they might joke about it, but they've grown up together: it's not a big deal.

Babs and the Titans know he likes to be silly, to flirt and joke in order to keep things lighthearted. They also know that's all it is: something he likes to play with. Dick is a brilliant strategist, and he's a hopeless romantic who prefers to date rather than fuck around. They know he's taking things seriously even as he tries to diffuse the tension.

When Dick comes back from a call with Tim and gives Roy a very thoughtful and introspective advice, the other man just (lightly) bonks him in the head and tells him to drop it. When he's coming back from patrol, all jokes and witty one liners, Babs just snorts and gives him permission to stop the performance Circus Boy. When he's acting all suave and seductive, Kory giggles and gives him a little kiss. "You know you don't have to do that with me!" And Dick just melts into her. "Dude it's just me!" Is Wally's way of getting Dick to stop bearing around the bush and just bitch to him about whatever's bothering him. Donna only needs one look, and her friend's dropping the hero posture, looking like an actual human being.

Dick is a performer, and he plays many parts in order to be the best hero, the best sibling he can be. Sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it, sometimes it's hard to take off the mask. Sometimes people talk about him and he's not sure who this person is. Sometimes he thinks he might be trapped in these personas. Lucky for him, his friends are there to remind him of who he is.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Question...? pt.2

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

This is part two, here's part one

✯ pairing:  Jenson Button x pop star!Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

It passed eventually, someone else filled her heart with awe, became the muse of her songs, and drew endless smiles on her face. Edward made her feel that fuzzy feeling in her stomach again, although not as intense, in a more steady way, not the rollercoaster she had once missed so much.

“Almost three years together,” Edward whispered softly in her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

She smiled, leaning into him as they swayed to the music in the dim glow of their living room. The song wasn’t one of hers this time—it was something soft and jazzy, the kind of melody that didn’t demand attention but filled the space between them like a comforting blanket.

“Has it really been that long?” she teased, turning to meet his gaze.

Edward’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. And it did. Edward had slipped into her life like a missing piece of an endless puzzle, filling a gap she had not known existed. He wasn’t a whirlwind, not the kind to sweep her off her feet and leave her breathless. Instead, he was a steady rhythm, a soft crescendo that built into something solid, something real.

He was just a finance guy—a very one-of-a-kind one, since he was down-to-earth, very caring, very sensitive. And she felt lucky, very lucky. Almost as if he saw the real her—not the pop star, not an object or a fantasy, just a person. And she saw her true self in him, grounding her, not letting her ego get too big, not letting the savage scrutiny and unrelenting criticism get to her head.

Her songs were a mirror of her thoughts, sometimes even before they passed through her conscious mind. It showed, as her lyrics were cozy, felt like home. But that lovely home sometimes felt suffocating; that steady chimney did not offer the same heat as the untamed fire that once—only once—burned her.

She hated herself for it. For the way her mind wandered when he wasn’t looking. For the way her songs had started to carry a bittersweet edge, lyrics slipping through her consciousness before she could stop them. “Your touch is safe, your love is steady, but my heart remembers wild and unready.”

Jenson was not helping. He would sometimes mention her in interviews, his tone reminiscent of the one you would use when talking about an old friend. What they had was so fleeting, maybe even insignificant, that no one, not even the most die-hard fans, could tell it had happened. To everyone, they seemed to be just friends.

Why? she asked, almost begged the universe that had once cruelly united them, every time he did that. She also wondered if he listened to her songs, questioning the same thing. However, she doubted he would see himself as the muse for those. It was her mind magnifying whatever had happened, she felt. He played—or that was what she thought.

And again, the haunting lyrics and melodies that betrayed her true feelings she was fighting to ignore. The pen hovered over the page, her handwriting messy and uneven, as though the words were tumbling out faster than she could keep up. The melody looped softly in her mind, but the lyrics—those came fast, raw, and jagged, pulling at threads she thought she’d long since buried.

Good girl, bad boy. Big city, wrong choices.

She bit her lip, her chest tightening as she wrote the next lines, the memories flooding back with startling clarity, reviving those moments in an uncanny likeness. She didn’t need to think about it; it was all there, etched in the spaces of her mind she had forced herself to rarely visited. The crowded room, the teasing laughter, the kiss that lingered longer than it should have.

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room,And every single one of your friends was making fun of you,But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?

Her breath hitched. The words felt too real, too close, as if they exposed more than she was ready to admit, even to herself. She put down the pen and leaned back in her chair, staring at the half-finished song in front of her.

“Writing again?”

She startled, looking up to see Edward standing in the doorway, his hair mussed and his smile soft. He walked toward her, setting down a mug of tea beside her.

“Yeah,” she said quickly, closing the notebook slightly, but not enough to seem suspicious. “Just... messing around with some ideas.”

Edward sat down on the armrest of her chair, glancing at the page. “What’s this one about?”

She hesitated, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him—not about the inspiration, not about the man who still haunted the corners of her songs like the most fearsome yet most unreal of ghosts. “It’s just fiction,” she explained lightly, forcing a smile. “Something I came up with while daydreaming.”

Edward frowned slightly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the notebook. “It doesn’t sound like us.”

“No,” she admitted, her voice carefully steady. “It’s not. It’s... a story, you know? Something I imagined after watching a movie.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes soft but searching. “It’s good,” he responded finally. “A little sad, but good. You’re brilliant, you know that?”

Her stomach twisted as piercing guilt crept in. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his, and smiled as genuinely as she could. “Thank you.”

Edward leaned down to kiss her forehead, then stood. “I’ll let you get back to it. Can’t wait to hear the final version.”

She watched him leave, her smile fading as soon as he was out of sight. Turning back to the notebook, she let out a shaky breath.

Did you wish you’d put up more of a fight?

Her pen pressed harder against the page. The words came again, insistent and demanding, as if they refused to be ignored. 

She knew Edward would never suspect the truth behind the song. He’d take it for what she said it was—a story, a piece of fiction, a distant echo of someone else’s life. But she knew better. The truth was, Question...? wasn’t just a song.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: I will do part three ASAP. I included more dialogue because part one sounded more like a chronicle than a story.

English is not my first language. I hope you liked it <333

[signanothername]

hi hello i would like to drop a little love mail in your askbox if thats okay :]

you are like a healthier version of an idol to me

like your art and writing have literally changed my brain chemistry and i will never be the same ever again, but also. you're a fun guy i see walking down the street sometimes and i fondly smile and think "oh, it's you again!" not someone i put on a giant pedestal with lights shining down on you y'know?

idk

i see you around on tumblr and get all giddy like im seeing a very wonderful bird outside my window. i adore and admire you and all, but im very happy to just sit here and watch you enjoy what you do without trying to idolize you or pull you away from your happy fluttering around or anything.

you are a very wonderful bird to me and i hope you continue to enjoy fluttering around outside the window for a long time :]

(apologies if this came out weird i am very very bad with words but i wanted to try and find a way to tell you how awe inspiring you are without being creepy or overbearing)

(keep doing what you enjoy you funky little creature! /pos)

Anon

Anon what if I cried??? /pos

Not weird or overbearing at all! Thank you so much this put such a big smile on my face, it’s such a sweet ask my heart dhdhgsgdggd

And honestly pretty honored to just be the fluttering bird outside your window, that’s what I really hope to be in the end

Not a big bright star, just a fun silly bird you see sometimes <333

[biteofcherry]

Happy Wetnessday 💦

I hope you're doing well.

This Wetnessday you're a professor in professor Rogers universe. Since he is already taken (sorry) you fall into a romance with another professor.

Who is he? What does he teach? How did you meet? How is your dynamic? Does he make you forget about Professor Rogers?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Hi Wetnessday Anon! 🩷

Now that was cruel. Not because you took away Steve, I would be only pouty about that. But you said I'm in professor Rogers' universe AND THEN took him away! That's like hanging a delicious, stuffed chocolate bar in front of me and then taking it away 😤

But fiiine, fiiiine, I will find myself another hot professor to erase the pout from my face.

I could go for the welcoming, flirty and approachable professor Ari. He's so hot and such a sunshine, it's so easy to be around him and with him 🥹🫠 I really should go for him.

But there's something wrong with me today, because I crave mean professor Andy 😳🫣 I blame it on all the evil pixies drowning me in awful Andy content last year. Professor Andy isn't a crazy psycho, but he is very mean and degrading in the hottest way.

He is admired and described as a hardass, but a fair one. He can be a bit moody, but students forgive him the more demanding lectures, because he also carries passionate and fun ones.

Andy is a law professor and as such you shouldn't have a lot of common with him when you start working at the university, since you teach a different faculty. You'd probably only meet in passing and spend some time at the official parties.

However, he's the one the dean introduces you to first, simply because you bumped into him on your tour after signing the contract.

Andy wasn't in a welcoming mood at all, but he still offered a smile and a warm if short greeting. Though his face shifted into cloudy annoyance when the dean got a phone call and without previous agreement he sort of dumped you onto Andy to show you around.

And he's not happy about it.

No, he's not in rush, but he's not much interested in playing a babysitter for the Ice Queen. And he says as much, readjusting his cufflinks.

Your spine hardens into steel at the mention of the nickname you've been given by colleagues in the past.

Because you don't enjoy getting wasted after the conferences, because you refused quite a few flings, because you focus on keeping to yourself and allegedly reported a romance at your past job (you didn't, but that fucker Ransom still thinks it's because of you that he had to break it off with the student; he's the one who gave you the nickname and a snide remark that you were jealous of him not wanting to touch your frigid ass).

"I may be the Ice Queen, but you're an asshole." You tilt your chin and give him a freezing look.

"Someone should play with your asshole to loosen you up."

There should be retort at the tip of your tongue. You're already forming it. But for a second your brain stumbles in attaching the right wires into right spots, instead igniting with the image of Andy's velvety voice cooing at you as his fingers scissor that tight hole.

"Ah!" A dark spark ignites in his blue eyes at your pause.

"Is that it, Ice Queen?" He takes a step into your personal space and you make the mistake of taking a step back. Which he follows, backing you against the wall as he taunts:

"Do you need to be used thoroughly like a needy slut, so that your brilliant, calculating brain switches off and you melt into a puddle?"

"Stop it." You huff, trying to glare at him. But you can't hide the shortening of your breath as Andy presses even closer.

"No, I don't think I will." He chuckles and it's a scarily seductive sound that heats your blood. "And I think you will love it when I keep pushing... and ruining... and filling your holes."

[starseneyes]

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.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Hello! Can I ask for a shy and nervous werewolf Seth on a first date with Doll?

Thank you for your time! Remember to take care!!<3

First date nerves.

Looking in the mirror Seth saw himself, God he looked so fucking nervous. Why was he nervous? This is Doll, he knows them and vise versa. Huffing he opened the mirror cabinet to grab his hair things.

'You've already groomed your hair, kid.' A deep voice echoed in his head. Groaning Seth ignored him and shut the mirrored cabinet to put his nerves somewhere else.

"Not a bad thing for a quick look over." Whispering back, Seth just combed his hair back. Looking from both of his sides to make sure his hair was even.

'Your gonna be late, moron.' Huffing out the wolf watched as Seth shot his gaze down. To where his phone was and laughed as he cursed.

Yelling out the greaser ran around grabbing his leather jacket, keys and shoes. Going outside to his pickup and speeding slightly to get to Doll's house. Checking the digital clock once more he sighed in relief seeing he was early.

'Kid, stop over thinkin. This human clearly likes ya, don't know why but.' The tone of the wolf's voice sounded very gentle as he lowered his voice. 'Their a good one. You picked right, now just have fun. I won't bother you, gonna take a nap.'

Seth simply hummed and gave a nod as he turned his attention to Doll's house. Suddenly he was over thinking again. Should he go and knock? It was a gentleman thing to do. Quickly Seth walked up, wiping his hands against his jeans before knocking loud enough to be heard.

"One second!" An excited voice was heard, causing Seth's heart to start beating. Were they expecting him for long? Oh shit was he late somehow and didn't remember? What-

The front door opened revealing Doll in a cute outfit as they smiled at the brunette. The nerves that Seth had seemed to multiple seeing them.

The receptionist smiled at the werewolf that had a slight blush on his face. Stepping out of the house they quickly locked the front door.

"So, what do you have planned for us?" Asking gently, seeing how nervous he was. The man before them cleared his throat before speaking.

"Um, just normal things you know. Also if I may say you look really pretty today." Mumbling the last bit, Seth watched as Doll smiled wider. Coming closer to him Doll gently wrapped their arms around hi.

"Thank you, you look really handsome!" Giggling, Doll watched as Seth smiled confidently as he guided them to his car. And opened the passenger door guesturingthem to get in.

"After you." Using a fake gentleman voice made Doll laugh. Nodding they sat and watched ashe closed the door. Buckling themsleves in the couldn't help but feel nervous as well.

After Seth got into his car he drove them to a movie theater. Getting tickets for a movie Doll has been wanting to watch for a while now. When asked how he remembered Seth shrugged and said.

"You were really excited when telling me how the theater was gonna play it. So I bought the tickets to give them to you for a gift for being an ass to you." Mumbling as they sat down. Doll felt touched at the effort he put into this, Seth really listens to them?

Chatting about the movie, Seth then escorted them to walk around the block. Different entertainment shops were on this block. It was nice seeing how Doll was so happy pointing at the different things they were seeing.

And slowly as the two enjoyed their night out, Seth got more relaxed. As they went to a small arcade playing a claw machine. Doll cheered him on as Seth won them a plushie they were eyeing.

"Awe, thank you! Your so sweet." Whispering, Doll smiled gently at the werewolf. Who, blushed hearing their words.

"It was nothin' these are easy if you know how to play them right." Shrugging Seth felt his heart thump happily in his chest. Even after everything they thought he was sweet?

Slowly as they spent more time in the arcade Seth got more confident. Chatting with Doll about everything and nothing. The receptionist giggled when he told them how the Boss once slipped because Daren left a towel on the floor.

"And you should have seen the scolding he got! Looked like a kicked puppy." Chuckling, Seth turned watching Doll laugh. They looked so pretty, the many lights in the arcade made them look gorgeous.

Honestly, Seth was glad his first date nerves went away. It's a laughter he was overthrowing about Doll like that. If they could fall for him when he was a jerk, what would stop them from enjoying a date with him?