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wonjns · 2 years

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tamed studies ✐

🖇️° pairing; xu minghao x male reader

🖇️° genre; smut

🖇️° summary; classic trope of the mean idiot and the patient tutor... but uh, did i mention the tutor was a super sexy chinese exchange student who happens to specialize in brat taming??

🖇️° includes; bottom!malereader, dom!hao, degradation, orgasm denial, slight impact play, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex (dont irl!!)

🖇️° WC; 4.3k (oh my god)

° AN; this was a request !! i feel bad because i was asked to do this forever ago but i’m glad to be posting my first requested work. i tried to make it longer and worth the read in order to make up for taking so long to write it. im not rlly ur everyday tumblr blogger or fic writer so its exciting for me ! lmao @megggegg

you were,,, a brat. sort of.

no, not sort of, you were actually just a jerk. and severely spoiled.

highschool life was hard, and college life proved itself to be even harder, especially now that you attended one of the highest reputable universities in the nation. you were up to your neck in classes, and while you performed decently in most of them, math was a travesty. being the freshman that you were, your parents had big expectations and high hopes that you would follow in the oh-so-successful footsteps of your older brother, junhui, who was in his senior year.

jun was a prodigy - a so called “genius” by your parents who would sing his praises constantly for his ability to excel in every academic subject he touched. naturally, due to his success in school, your parents expected the same of you. every brunch and social that was held in your family’s country club would somehow end up in your mother preaching about how ‘her two beautiful sons were going to become the best doctors the community as ever seen’ - and when your skills clearly weren’t up to par with your older brother’s, it caused you to grow resentful to both him and your parents, the feeling being quite reciprocated.

you became frustrated that no matter the amount of shopping sprees or days off you took, you couldn’t seem to settle down and wrap your head around statistics. instead of remaining level-headed and talking out your struggles with your family, your pride forced you to swallow it all up and only express yourself through tantrums... much like what you were doing right now.

“AND IF YOUR GPA DROPS EVEN A SMIDGE LOWER, WE’RE NOT PAYING FOR YOU TO ATTEND SCHOOL ANY LONGER!” your mother shouted as you stomped your way up your home’s marble staircase, attempting to dismiss yourself from yet another argument.

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE! your little reputation couldn’t handle the embarrassment when all your friends find out.” you spat.

“that’s damn right! you’re getting your education one way or another, so its best you get ready for community college then.” your father joined in at your mother’s side.

you froze in place, hand lingering on your door knob. community college?! you almost threw up in your mouth. you let out an exasperated yell, slamming your door. the echo of the force travelled down the hall to jun’s room. out of curiosity, he steps out from behind his own door and sees your parents huffing away back to their own chambers. he cocks an eyebrow and walks down to your room, knocking gently.

“y/n? what was that all ab-” he speaks lowly, but you cut him off, your voice still very much shouting.

“go the hell away!”

“well damn, dude, I just wanted to ask what was wrong.” he quips.

“thanks for you concern, asshole, but I don’t remember it being your business.” you call back, sinking your head deeper into your pillow as you scroll angrily through your phone.

junhui sighs and goes downstairs to calm your obviously seething parents, aiming to talk them down from making any rash decisions for you. despite your attitude, jun was a pretty sweet older brother, and knew you just needed a bit of help rather than be withdrawn from university all together.

it’s not like you cared though.

⊱────────────────────────⊰

one week later, you heard another knock at your door.

making sure to groan in extra loud annoyance so that whoever was on the other side knew they were already pissing you off, you sat up in bed. you heard the knock again, this time followed by your mom’s voice.

“y/n, come down stairs. now.” was all she stated before walking away.

what could she possibly want at 1:00 in the afternoon? you grumbled, throwing on a hoodie before literally rolling out of your king sized mattress. you shuffled your feet along the floor as you walked down stairs.

as soon as you reached the common area, your eyes slightly widened as you were greeted with the sight of a tall, tan skinned boy with round glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. he set a large assortment of textbooks down at the table next to him as he conversed with your parents. you simply stopped in your tracks as you stared at the.... admittedly beautiful, man.

his hair practically shined in the natural lighting, and his shoulders were broad. his lips were plump and the perfect shade of pink, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his sharp jawline or the way it would flex when he smiled or how his adams apple teasingly bounced when he chuckled at something your parent’s said.

it seems you were caught in the middle of your trance, as your dad waved his hand from where he was standing.

“y/n?”

you blinked a couple times as you snapped out of it, realizing you were biting your lips. you slightly blushed when you noticed all of their eyes were focused on you, especially this new stranger’s shining orbs.

“who’s this?” you speak up, adding slight attitude in your voice to cover up your obvious gawking.

“this is minghao, a friend of your brother’s. he’ll be your new tutor until you pick your grades up.” your mom replies, and the boy slightly bows his head while he smiled down at you.

“T-TUTOR?” you gasp, a bit over-dramatically. “what the hell do I need a tutor for? i’m not in elementary school.” you claim, stomping your foot down.

“well until you stop getting these third grader scores on your tests, this is what we’re doing. you start today, and you don’t have a say in the matter.” your mom chimes in, never dropping her snarky smile.

“today!? it’s saturday-”

“anyways,” your mother continues, interrupting you. “we’re going out for the day, but jun will be back soon. we told him you should be well into your lesson by the time he’s here, alright?”

“yes, maam.” minghao chimed enthusiastically, giving her a thumbs up.

you rolled your eyes and groaned once more, huffing out a sigh when you at the at large table with all of the textbooks. when your parents left, minghao took a seat across from you, sitting as if he were waiting for you to say something first.

“you have a beautiful home..” he finally spoke, looking around and spotting the chandelier above the staircase.

“yea yea, that’s what they all say. you can just get on with the bullshit, i guess. it’s not like i’m gonna pay any attention.” you respond in a bored tone, propping your head up against your hands.

minghao furrowed his brows at you as you tried to avoid his eyes, but you couldn’t stop yourself from awkwardly peeking. the older male sighs and spreads out the textbooks before mumbling something about getting started, opening the first book. it read statistics - an instant turn off for you.

30 minutes into the first lesson and minghao peered at you, catching you on your phone for the umpteenth time. he sighed, setting his calculator down.

“listen, I know you don’t wanna go through this, but your parents are trusting me to make sure you don’t fail another class. I sit next to your brother in a lot of our classes and he’s practically a genius, so I know you have it in you too.”

you rolled your eyes yet again, narrowing your gaze at minghao. his eyes sort of sparkled, looking a little too cute as he pleaded for you to cooperate, but this only stirred you to piss him off more. you smirked as you ignored him, bringing your phone back up to your face.

this caused minghao to scoff in disbelief.

“y/n, look at me.” he spoke, causing your grin to grow wider as you ignored him.

however, he opened his mouth again and this time your smile dropped completely.

“look at me, now.”

the tone in his voice was completely different - much lower than previously and demanding. you looked up from your phone and chills ran wild across your skin from the glare you caught from him. his eyes lost their sparkle, and instead looked like a deep, dark brown abyss.

“put your phone down.”

you could’ve swore a spell was cast on you, because you dropped your phone on the table just a little too fast for your own liking. this caused a shit-eating grin to grow on minghao’s face, one that lit your skin on fire.

he stood from his seat, leaning across the table closer and closer to you. he stopped a couple inches from your face, and his vanilla cologne surged through your senses.

“that’s a good boy... why are you listening so easily now?” he asked as he picked up your phone, putting it in his pocket without moving his face any farther from yours.

you gulped, trying to get back in your groove. you furrowed your brows at him, scooting back on your own accord.

“s-shut up. I’m just finally ready to get this lesson over with so you can get out of my house.” you sneered. but he wasn’t buying it, not one bit.

he sat back into his chair, eyes never leaving you. the truth was that he caught how in between your attempts to ignore him, he followed how your eyes lingers on his long, beautiful fingers when he would turn the page or type in the calculator. minghao was very observant, and it was biting you in the ass.

“come over here and sit by me.” he ordered, patting the empty chair next to him.

“no... and give me my phone back!” you retorted.

“you need a closer look at the reading. the sooner you just listen the sooner you can tweet all you want.”

you sat in contemplation for a while, before groaning and getting up. you made your way hesitantly around the table before placing yourself in the seat beside minghao. you were growing annoyed of yourself - why were you caving for his demands so easily?

he sat and stared at you for a while, a smirk evident on his annoyingly handsome face. you parted your lips to ask him what was his deal, but before you could utter a sound he reached out and grabbed one of your chair legs, scooting you closer until your shoulders were merely centimeters apart. he then leaned down to your ear, speaking lowly despite you two being the only ones in the house.

“i know your problem... you’ve just never had anyone simply take control, have you?”

you felt your face turn red, and you instantly scooted back from him.

“wh- what the hell are you talking about?!” you ask, sounding almost offended.

minghao did nothing but chuckle and drag you right back into his space before casually turning back to the textbooks. he resumed the tutoring session as if nothing happened, meanwhile you tried to stabilize your breathing. you had no idea what this dude’s problem was, but he somehow had an excitement bubbling deep down within you.

an hour goes by, and like magic you’re suddenly more intrigued in the lesson. it was like he had you under hypnosis with his cologne, because you slowly followed along when he spoke and were understanding more of the material.

then, he began to quiz you. he asked you to solve a formula for him, and when you actually managed to identify x correctly, he brought one of his large hands down to rest at an exposed part of your thigh - thanks to your small gym shorts. your breath hitched when he squeezed it gently, offering you praise.

“nice job. now look at this graph and....”

his voice trailed off in your mind as you couldn’t get your eyes to leave his warm hand at your thigh. it felt so soft, and encased your leg so effortlessly. his thumb rubbed the smallest and softest circles into your thigh as he spoke, but stopped when you heard your name called once more.

“y/n? did you hear me?” he spoke, pretending as if he hadn’t caught you lingering on his hand.

“o-oh, yeah, whatever. it’s right here.” you answer, pointing to a spot on a complicated looking chart. you were fully guessing, but didn’t want him to know you were distracted.

“wrong.”

this time, he squeezed your thigh with stronger force, causing you to gasp.

“the hell are you doing!” you call out, scooting back out of your chair.

minghao was fast, though, because before you could actually move away he caught your wrist, pulling you in and quickly situating you on his lap. you squirmed, but didn’t exactly try to leave as he brought both hands to massage both sides of your thighs this time.

“you were doing so good, what’s wrong?” he whispered from behind you, his warm breath against the nape of your neck causing visible goosebumps to rise.

you gripped the table infront of you for stability, trying your best to keep a whine from leaving your throat.

“I-.....I.... uhm, I-” you stuttered. you were desperately trying to find a witty comment to spit out, but it was like you completely lost your mojo, how frustrating.

“next question,” he spoke, lightly nipping your earlobe with his teeth.

you flinched, and genuinely couldn’t speak. his scent and ministrations into your soft thighs were completely overriding your ability to focus. he pulled the hems of your shorts back so that he could massage higher up on your thighs, the sensation causing everything he was saying to fade into the background of your mind as it started hazing over.

“know the answer this time?” you heard him ask, and nervousness overcame you when you realized you hadn’t heard a single thing he’s said.

you began mumbling, eyes trying to make sense of the worksheets in front of you. you feel his hand reach around your front before landing on your clothed bulge, which, much to your embarrassment, had already grown into a hard erection.

minghao chuckled loudly, “no wonder you can’t concentrate, you’re all worked up. aw.”

he gave your member one good quick squeeze, the stimulation causing you to yelp in shock. your hand shot down to grip on to his wrist, your breathing becoming labored. you tried to look over your shoulder at him, but his free hand came up to cup your jaw, forcing your head back to the textbook. you suddenly felt his own hard-on straining in his pants, pushing into your lower back.

“minghao, i-”

“i hope you get this next one right... or we can pack it up and call it a day?” he spoke, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“n-no! no, i can answer it.” you responded, sounding way too desperate.

he bit his lower lip in a smirk, and went on to explain the next formula and percentages normally, as if you weren’t propped on his lap. when it was your turn to answer, you felt utterly clueless. you struggled enough to even pay attention to each word that fell off his tongue in the first place

“answer me, bitch.” he warned, his grip on your cock from the outside of your shorts slowly tightening again.

“n-n-nintey two! the percentage of x is 92″ you fumbled out, squeezing your eyes shut as it was practically guess work.

“...excellent job.”

you let out a sigh of relief, loosening your tight hold on your calculator. you felt the exact plump lips you had admired this past hour and a half begin placing light, feathery kisses down the back and sides of your neck, minghao releasing his hold on your member. you whined at the loss of feeling, but your breath hitched as you felt him beginning to pull at your short’s drawstrings. you sat completely still while his lips worked into a soft spot on your neck, and he untied your drawstrings at an agonizingly slow pace.

you forced yourself to maintain your breathing when he finally loosened them, slowly reaching into your pants without a word. he began palming your bare length as he kissed harder into your weak spot, sucking a red mark into your throat. you moaned, wondering how you even found yourself in this situation, yet not wanting it to stop.

“maybe you’re not a dumbass after all, just a little slut.” he murmured into your skin. his words made your skin feel even hotter, but it still sprung your attitude right back into action.

“I probably would’ve gotten them right sooner if I had a tutor who wasn’t a horny asshole.” you respond, leaning your head back on to his shoulder as his hands work you.

however, he stopped all his movements, groaning as his teeth sunk into your soft spot. you whimpered at the jolt, almost regretting your comment as you bucked your hips into his frozen hand desperate for more of the pleasure.

“is that so? let’s keep going then.”

he brought his hand away from your erection and gripped your jaw again, forcing your head up and at the math problems before you.

minghao went on to read out the graph to you, but this time brought his tongue down to your collarbone, drawing circles into your sensitive skin in between his sentences. you squirmed under him but he gripped your hips still, making it impossible for you to seek any kind of pleasure on his lap.

you took deep breaths in between his pauses as he took his time ravaging your exposed skin, moving your hoodie aside so he could claim more territory with colorful marks. you dug your fingers into his legs, begging him to get on with it. he chuckled quietly before licking his way back up to your ear before finishing the word problem.

“so? whats the solution, little boy?” he asked, his hand finding its way back into your pants. he stroked along your length as you gathered up the willpower to speak, the pleasure becoming too much to function.

your mind raced, hopelessly looking for clues to the answer. you tried to focus, but as the long silence dragged on you felt yourself inching closer to your orgasm, finding it impossible to keep your eyes racked on the calculator. when you couldn’t handle it anymore, you summoned an answer out of thin air hoping it was correct so that minghao could just finish you off, you were so close.

“t-...the solution would be to plug the integers into the denominal fraction!” you sputtered, minghao’s hand speeding up its stroking.

just as you gave your answer, your felt minghao’s face draw next to your ear, and keys jingling at your front door - your older brother jun stepping in.

“incorrect.”

and he ceased his actions, pushing you off his lap.

⊱────────────────────────⊰

ever since then, you were obsessed with your tutor. you’re not sure if it was the thrill of almost being caught by junhui, or the frustration of having your release so cruelly denied by minghao, but each week it seemed like you would get worse at math intentionally.

the brattier you were to minghao, the more dominant he was with you - and it was intoxicating. it was a constant back & forth in the secrets of your own studying whenever it was just you two in the house, although you found it pretty hard to control yourself that one time in which junhui was still upstairs.

this week, the house was empty and the textbooks hadn’t even been opened yet before you were straddling minghao’s lap and making out. he barely had time to set his bag down and take a seat before your lips were quick to take action, devouring each other. his hot open mouthed kisses caused your mind to gloss over, moaning wantonly when his tongue pressed against yours.

when you ground your hips down on his semi-hard bulge, his hands wrapped around your waist to keep you still. you whined at him, trying to chase the friction.

“we need to start our lesson for the day.” minghao sighed. “your results last week were good, but we have a lot of work to do.”

“nooo,” you fussed at him, squeezing his shoulders. “i don’t care about the math anymore, let’s take a week off.”

you continued to aggressively kiss him before he could protest. however, minghao soon peeled his lips away from yours, the satisfying sound ringing in your ears.

“no breaks. you need to behave, y/n.” he warned, which only made you giggle before diving back into his plush lips.

god, he tasted amazing. your lips worked eagerly against his before you felt a hard smack on your ass. you jumped, whimpering at the sting his large hand caused you. you looked minghao in the eyes with an angry pout, and that only landed you another spank on your other cheek.

minghao shifted you around his lap until your back was pressed against the wooden table. he brought a hand up to wrap around your throat, forcing you keep eye contact with him.

“are you ready to be a good student now?”

you shook your head, growing aggravated. you had studied so much and now all you could think of was your brothers sexy best friend whom you willfully let control you each week. you needed him, badly. and he knew it.

minghaos hand never left your throat, and you watched his eyes study you, contemplating what he should do next. eventually, he released a slight hum, an idea seemingly coming to him like a light bulb.

“alright, fine.” he finally spoke aloud, pushing the textbooks off of the table in one swoop. he then stood, holding your underarms to lift you from his lap on to the table.

“if you can pass a pop quiz, we don’t have to study today.”

you eagerly nodded your head in compliance, cooperating as he pressed a hand to your chest and lowered you until you were flat-backed on your table. he began stripping you of your pants and boxers, leaving your bottom half exposed to the cold air. you licked your lips when you watched him start to remove his belt, but felt your excitement grow dim when he stopped after only undoing a few buttons.

he crawled on to the table, one hand resting next to your head as he hovered over you. the other came and started palming your exposed cock, allowing it to grow hard. when your eyes wandered down to watch his ministrations, he called your name sharply, shifting your attention back to him.

“you get 5 chances.” he told you, and you nodded.

damnit, those were the hardest questions of your life.

you had managed to get three wrong right off the bat, and minghao sinisterly chuckled at you each time you whimpered at him grinding his clothed hips to your needy and exposed bottom half.

“you dumb bitch... only two chances left.” he taunted, wiggling his two fingers infront of your face. he then took his two digits and prodded them at your lips.

you sighed when you took his elegant fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a melting popsicle. your eyes rolled back from the satisfaction. he withdrew his long fingers from your mouth earlier than you liked, and began sucking on them himself. your face grew beat red at his actions, but you felt your cock twitch at the sight. he then reached down and lifted your legs around his hips, teasing his coated fingers at your entrance. a moan of desperation escaped you.

“tell me about the theory of probability if you can, little whore.” he demanded, circling one of his fingers around your bottom.

the teasing and degradation almost made you moan, but you forced yourself to stay composed, as you were finally confident in an answer. you stilled your breathing and delivered the definition without breaking eye contact. he smiled at you.

“good job, baby boy.” he replied, his demeanor instantly softer as he placed a kiss on your nose.

and without another word, he slowly sunk one of his coated fingers into your entrance. a loud moan drew from your throat, and you could’ve came from just that pleasure after being teased so much. but, even your bratty demeanor was scared to go against minghao’s wishes.

he asked you another question, and you almost exploded in joy when you also knew that one, earning you another finger. the stretch wasn’t painful but it was doing its job, causing you to feel full from his hands alone.

“last one, baby. what happens when N is even in the variance formula?”

you, being on the verge of your high once more, grabbed the back of his neck and brought his ear down to your lips, whispering the answer to him before licking the shell. he groaned, a smirk growing wide on his lips.

“shit, prince, you’re a genius.”

the tall male instantly removed his fingers from inside you, and shimmied off his own pants. your head was spinning when he plunged his erect member into you, instantly grinding with exact precision.

you couldn’t stop the moans from falling past your lips, and only grew louder when he leaned down to suck sulaciously on your adam’s apple.

“I hope junhui comes home early to see his little bitch of a brother being such a good boy, such a smart boy....” he purred into your ear in between littering hickeys on your neck and chest while rutting into you.

the pleasure was sending you to cloud nine, to the point that you didn’t even care about the probability of someone actually coming home early and catching you. all you knew was that tutoring was probably the best investment your parents have ever made.

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transamus · 9 months

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also ik it's coming from a well meaning place but reading that "hey dont overdo it on the tylenol or you will die" untagged over and over and over again as someone with chronic pain who cant fuckin Get better painkillers And just generally struggles to take meds in the first place just has me filled with so much anxiety. Like. I'm managing my pain the best I can as it is and still cant see a single doctor w/o them dismissing All ov my various issues as "you're obviously just Depressed because you are Transgender." AND texas as a state is. Really not. Good for pain medications to begin with. And just like. Sigh.

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clonehub · 1 year

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Episode 3 of the bad batch!

"we're fine" girl the gonk droid is on its side

I wonder what these rations taste like

Okay so echo can eat solids. And also everyone is yelling at him to fix everything on the ship. They are flying through hyperspace on a ship that doesn't work properly and I'm SORRY but techs priorities are BACKWARDS

THEY DONT EVEN FIT IN THE SEATS AAAHHHHHH

The way they're acting I'm thinking theybe never crash landed before which is actually really funny bc Anakin only knew how to crash. Like it was a regular occurrence in tcw for bitches to be crashing all over the place

Okay first mention of crosshair.

"Crosshairs actions may have been influenced by his inhibitor chip" "it can do that?" Was it. Like wasnt this established. Like one or two episodes ago? I'm genuinely confused this could be my own standing knowledge of the chips getting in the way but why's echo surprised the chip is influencing Crosshairs actions

I will say. There's times where the lighting and the model rendering blends in such a way so that u can't really differentiate the features on omegas face if that makes sense. Like it blends too much

I do like how much they do the blur/focus thing I've always liked that

Rampart being like the only person in this entire series with decently brown eyes :/

Oh look. Once again referred to as enhanced (crosshair). And it's like the more that I think about it. It would not make sense for the Kaminoans to work so hard to keep tbb alive if they believed they were really defective. They're very much like "here's our enhanced product here's our enhanced soldiers see how enhanced they are" like tbb are advertising so they wouldn't say "yeah they're defective BUT--"

So crosshair just walking about in his jammies

Tarkins face model is p good

Something about the models for this first batch of conscripts is like. Like they were built the way they were bc the animators knew they wouldn't be on screen long.

This is kinda funny tho bc they definitely made some heads and just stuck them on a clone models body HFKSBFKSNDKSJS not that I'm mad I like they didn't do boob armor but fhakdnaksk

Tech is so like. Not arugmentative but he has to reply to everything and it's normally in a dismissive or disagreeing way and normally I wouldn't care at all but sometimes it's like was this line necessary.

"you wanna narrow that down" bitch can you go outside and look damn making all this noise from the back seat

I wonder why if Wrecker is having all this obvious hesd pain nobody is actually like checking on him?

A nice blend of music here

It's so funny like how much ppl just fucking hate being scanned because like for me if every doctors visit could just be a scan I'd be so gung ho for it. Yeah let me just lay here for three seconds and hardly get a needle or anything tf

Willing enlistment as metric for a good soldier is interesting and I feel like purposely manipulative bc the guy in the scene before this just said he's got like food and housing so that's partly why he's staying. It's not a loyalty thing at all lmao

What's funny is that I think tbbs helmets for all their little specialities don't actually contribute to air tight contained suits the way the normie clones do. Bc if this was Rex and co they could probably just keep their buckets on w a lil attachment. So they get the headlamps and the HUD. But hunter can't have that so he has to remove the entire thing and put on this mask.

"we each have enhanced skills"

See I wish they could have maintained this tension around crosshair better through the season

Not this white boy poking crosshair in his insecurities BDMABDLSNSLAK no wonder he was so gung ho to kill him and also why he wanted to stick w the imps so bad. Again again again it's ego

They use English letters a lot here not that it's a bad thing or anything but like I remember how in tcw during some like behind the scenes things they basically implied they tried to avoid doing that. They sometimes would say the aurebesh letters and sometimes it'd be A and B

Oh he didn't tattoo his eyelid. Not that it like has to be but like. I just noticed

Sorry these choking noises are so throaty

Bro just unconscious here fjandnaknsa

Wilhelm scream :/

Yeah wow the uh. White boy was the only one with moral back bone huh. The only one who said extrajudicial execution of civilians was bad. Just him huh. Hm.

This is an interesting creature

Oh she gotta be standing on something to be this tall

DNA degradation still doesn't make sense to me given what should be the kammies gene prowess but whatevs

It's like. They're hung up on Jango DNA but if hsi stuff is swirling the drain and you don't have boba would the next thing not be to just find a new guy? Also how does any of that make this any less cost prohibitive

"such a contingency would require a direct source. The clones required will not return willingly" / "they are kaminoan property and we only need one"

Uh but tbb are enhanced and mutated so therefore not the best candidates for sourcing for Jango DNA? Unless I've got this wrong (I'm thinking I do).

I wonder if this room still stinks

This is a sweet thing wreckers done I will say that. But also is omegas room just a viewport or is there a turret attached to that chair?

"I never had my own room before" who was she sharing a room with?????

#ch posts #tbb rewatch

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butchdogthing · 2 years

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wrote a garashir fic check it out

title: Accommodations

summary:

"I have autism." By the delivery of it, it felt as though there was an expectation that Garak should know what that meant. — Julian asks Garak to make him a new uniform.

5k words, general audiences (but heed CWs below), garak and bashir silly flirty friendship shit. julian is autistic.

notes:

references to major spoilers through early season 7 - takes place between s07e03 “Afterimage” and s07e21 “When It Rains…”

content warnings: big warning for anti-autistic ableism and child abuse. eugenics and so-called “treatments” are discussed. some language is used which may be considered outdated, pathologizing, or not-preferred, but there are no slurs. i’ll tell you that it ends on a positive note.

also available on archiveofourown. if you enjoy it go hit kudos on there! you dont need an account to do so. and uhhh idk, i likely won’t use this blog for anything really, follow me on twitter, art account is butchdogthing and star trek account is omicrontheyta

story under the cut. some more notes at the end.

"Alterations are one thing, Doctor, but to craft an entirely new uniform?"

"Are you saying you're not up for the task?"

"Not at all! I'm merely surprised - aren't there regulations against that sort of thing?"

This earned Garak a skeptical scowl from Doctor Bashir, who pushed off from the shop wall against which he'd been leaning. "From what I understand, you were happy to make a uniform for Nog ." There was a definite tone of accusation to the statement, but he took it in stride, waving a hand dismissively in Bashir's direction.

"No one looks at a lowly Ensign long enough to even tell his species , let alone notice that his uniform is cut from Bolian cotton rather than Terran polyester." - he made a point of eyeing the doctor up and down, from head to toe - "But the Chief Medical Officer of a space station? The station at the head of the war against the Dominion, no less? Everyone's got their eye on him . And I'd like to keep my tail attached, not add it to some austere Admiral's trophy collection when the question arises of just who aided and abetted in Doctor Bashir's dismissal of uniform code."

Bashir crossed his arms. "Garak, please, you're being beyond overreactive right now."

"Oh, am I?"

"No one pays attention to that regulation anyway. It's just meant to deter officers from looking flashier than their superiors. It's an ego thing. So long as the materials are sufficiently resistant to fire and corrosion, no one will so much as bat an eye. That goes for me as well as my supplier ."

"Hmm..."

Garak put on a show of giving the reassurance a great deal of thought.

"Please?" - Bashir's voice dropped to a gentler tone.

One of life's greatest joys, Garak thought, was to push his dear friend into a position of pleading for something Garak had already intended on providing to him all along. First came Bashir's proposal. Then the reasoning. Then Garak would play at refusal, usually citing his busy schedule, and Bashir would dutifully take the role of the reasonable man, the scientist, presenting logic against Garak's reluctance. Without cooperation, finally logic would give way to begging, until he left Garak with no choice but to either paint himself the unreasonable villain or to reluctantly, mercifully concede.

And Bashir's face during the pleading was Garak's favorite part.

"I may be persuaded."

Just as quickly as he'd crossed them, Bashir uncrossed his arms and gave a critical squint toward Garak.

"You're not afraid of being reprimanded by starfleet, you just wanted to twist my arm into haggling with you!"

Being caught in the game made it no less fun. Besides - the doctor was smart, Garak reasoned, surely he caught on from time to time that he was being toyed with. Yet he still played along.

Garak turned to face him. "Nonsense, Doctor! What gives you the impression that I'm not simply being difficult for sport?"

The question apparently did not deserve to be dignified with an acknowledgement. "What's your price?"

Garak allowed him to stew for a moment.

"Only that you finish reading ‘In The Heart of The Devil’ ."

" ‘In The’ - what, the judicial romance novel? Garak-"

"If my culture so disgusts you, Doctor, I'm sure there are innumerable human tailors in this quadrant, in this sector even, who'd be more than willing to take your business."

"I'm not disgusted, Garak, I've read dozens of Cardassian works." Garak said nothing in return, only stared. Bashir held steady for a moment - then, sure enough, cracked and crumpled. A shame that it was over so quickly, Garak thought, he'd have to find some time to give the good doctor a lecture in fortitude. Apparently defeated, Bashir continued: "I, I found it boring. I fell asleep reading that dreadful book."

"But you hardly made it past the post-prologue!" He placed down the piece he'd been working on and threw his hands up in the air. Bashir scoffed at the display, but Garak only shook his head. "I don't see how you expect to enjoy it without even giving it a chance. It's really quite a cerebral story, especially once you've surmounted the second act."

"And if I read the whole book, then you'll make me the uniform?"

"Free of charge. In fact, you don't even have to read it first . Get started as soon as possible, and I'll have your garments ready by the end of the week. I trust you'll keep your word."

"Really?"

"Would you rather I took the offer back?"

"Well, no. It's just that you haven't exactly got a reputation for being..." - He turned his hand over in front of himself, searching for the right word, until Garak offered -

"Generous?"

" Trusting. "

"Ah, how disconcerting - maybe that counselor friend of yours is making more of an impression than I realized." Garak frowned. "But in any case, Doctor Bashir, I've found that a happy client makes for a happy businessman."

Until that point, Garak had been working on small tasks around the shop, but now stopped to get his equipment for working on Bashir.

"I'm not sure that ‘happy’ describes how I feel at the prospect of keeping up my end of this bargain." Despite what he was saying, the doctor smiled and appeared at ease.

"So, tell me - what are you looking for? A brighter hue, a tighter waist perhaps?"

Bashir blushed and looked down. "No, the color and the cut are fine, it's the material."

Garak deflated upon hearing this - he would have loved the chance to exhibit some artistic liberties with Bashir's fashion, but his frequent offers to pretty the doctor up were always either turned down or had drab and nullifying limitations placed upon them.

He reached out to catch the sleeve of Bashir's Starfleet jacket between two fingers and a thumb. He felt the material of the outer jacket, then slipped his fingers under the teal sleeve below. When his scaled knuckles brushed against Bashir's wrist, Garak found his human skin to be smooth and delightfully warm. "What's wrong with it?"

Bashir pulled his hand (and, by extension, his sleeve) away from Garak and held it close to himself, again turning it in a circular motion as he seemed to search for his words. I hope I haven't bothered him.

"Actually - I suppose the fit could use some work. This jacket is stifling." After a nod from Garak, he continued. "The material, it's... Too..." - Bashir squinted - " Catching . It clings to my skin, as if electrically charged."

This was not the impression Garak had gotten from the fabric. "And a different material would be preferable?"

Garak eyed the doctor carefully. Not with caution, or delicacy, or suspicion - just with the careful and attentive gaze one would lend to a curiosity, or to a friend when you're just getting to learn something new about them. He wasn't sure if Bashir would notice the change in demeanor, but then again, his perceptive nature had, at times, surprised Garak in the past.

If Bashir saw how Garak was looking at him, he wondered, then how would he interpret the look? Or the touch, for that matter? If their literary discussions were anything to go off of, his ability to accurately read meaning into implicit gestures was greatly impaired, by Cardassian standards, or at least unconventional.

Bashir nodded. "My old uniform was much better..."

The new uniform's rollout was fresh in Garak's mind. He was quick to ask Bashir (or, rather, his changeling doppelgänger) for an opportunity to take a closer look at its construction. Careful investigation revealed the previous blend of natural and synthetic fibers had been retired in favor of wholly synthetic material. Apparently, supply issues led Starfleet to reconsider how they clothed their officers, and mass-replicated textiles proved most practical. Despite all the millions of man-hours of research put into the subject since the replicator's inception, by chemists and agriculturalists and animal farmers and Garak's own tailor brethren, the structure of animal- and plant-based fibers had yet to be adequately recreated. Growing it the old-fashioned way was still the only option, and made it inconvenient for such large-scale operations as these.

Quieter this time, Bashir spoke again: "I miss my old uniform."

"The one you wore in the prison camp?"

He knew the answer, but asked anyway. There was a need to explicitly acknowledge that fact between the two of them, to establish the timeline.

"Yes." - quieter still.

"Why, that was two years ago, and I haven't had any of my other Starfleet customers come to me with complaints about the material."

"Well, I'm not your other Starfleet customers."

"No, your taste is much more discerning. " Garak smiled at Bashir, and he weakly smiled back.

"I suppose so."

"With the war going on, many of my suppliers have run dry, but - I may have the right material in my stores already..." Leaving his side, Garak turned, deeper into the shop, searching.

The dreary manner was gone from Bashir's voice as he spoke up from behind, usual affectation of self-assuredness (or self-centeredness) in its place. "You can ask, you know."

Garak turned around. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're referring to, Doctor."

This wasn't entirely truthful: he could sense something was peculiar about Bashir's demeanor today, from the moment he'd walked in the shop. Initially, Garak had suspected it was to do with the fact that the shop was even open for business at all - meaning that he was taking on tailoring work again, something which Bashir would likely have opinions about - but as their chat moved along, he started to feel that this wasn't the case. Then his curiosity had been piqued by the ‘catching’ fabric comment, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of connection, a thread tying it all together.

Now, that thread had presented itself, and all Garak had to do was pull.

"It's unusual, and I figure you're curious about why I hate my uniform so much when no one else cares. So I'm telling you - you can ask me why." He put on a gentle smile, like the one he always used on his pediatric patients. "I won't be offended."

But it wasn't as fun when the thread was quite literally asking to be pulled. The investigation, the interrogation, was the real thrill of it. But once it laid itself out in this way there was no enjoyment left in even trying to make a game of it. He'd have to give Doctor Bashir yet another lecture about subtlety, as well.

Noting that his itinerary was filling up at an alarming rate, Garak gave in, and turned back to his selections of cloth. "Alright. Why?"

"I have autism."

By the delivery of it, it felt as though there was an expectation that Garak should know what that meant.

He knew enough at least to sense that a few seconds' pause - of ‘dawning understanding’ - was likely appropriate.

"Oh... I see."

"Until - until recently, I never wanted to... Acknowledge it. Finally telling people, talking about it," he sighed, "it feels good."

"And you didn't want to, because?"

"I suppose I thought I could power through it. And that it was something to be ashamed of."

"What's the prognosis, then, Doctor?"

A genuine question, but easy enough to pass off as a joke if needed. But the doctor just laughed and said, "Well, I'll always be autistic."

Grabbing a few bolts of cloth, blends similar to the constituents of the old uniform, Garak returned to Bashir and laid the materials on a table.

The initial impression he'd gotten was that this ‘autism’ was a disease, perhaps of the skin. Garak had had the rare client or two in the past who broke out in rashes when exposed to certain animal hairs. But then Bashir's use of ‘autistic’ - an adjective? Something significant enough to one's position in the world that it needed its own descriptor? - had thrown off the dermatological illness hypothesis. Unless it's terminal, he thought, slow-progressing enough that he feels it won't significantly impact his lifespan.

Or he could be dying as we speak, and doesn't have the heart to tell me.

But Garak brushed this thought aside - surely the doctor had more sense than to try ‘powering through’ a terminal illness. That couldn't be it.

A lesson Garak had resisted learning on Cardassia was the need to back down at times, and to admit to a conversational partner that he didn't follow what was going on. Vulnerability was a danger, betraying his lack of information carried severe consequences, and stubborn adherence to a persona of understanding had nearly always served him well. These schemas never posed a problem until well into his time on Deep Space Nine - his non-Cardassian acquaintances seemed to be constantly calling him out on his lies, and worse still was that some of them seemed hurt by the behavior. It was a hard habit to break, but Dax encouraged him to practice as much as possible.

A version of her voice urged him now to put that skill to the test.

"...I must admit, I'm unfamiliar with this human..." - ‘disease’? Was it a disease? It stung to be this honest - "...Concept."

"Oh." It seemed to take a moment for him to fully realize the meaning. "Oh! Of course you would be."

Glancing from his friend's eyes down to the selection of fabrics on the table before them, Garak waited. Bashir reached for the farthest one and stroked it.

"Autism is, um... People with autism have differences in brain function, so they - we - experience difficulties in cognition, language, executing social behaviors, and... Sensory processing. Hence, the uniform."

"Ah, a mental disorder, then."

"Yes. Well," he furrowed his brow deeply and frowned, vigorously fiddling a corner of fabric in one hand, a face of concentration but lacking that same focus in voice, "it's not that simple, I suppose. But in a sense, it could be considered... A mental disorder." He seemed to regain his senses and treated the cloth with more care. "...I like this one, for the interior."

Pulling a few feet from the roll, Garak held the fabric in front of Bashir's body. "The color isn't quite right. I'll have to source some in a bluer shade."

"I think that'll do quite nicely, Garak."

Garak beamed. For all the hassle he liked to give Bashir, it pleased Garak to please him.

"So, um - do you have any questions?"

"Will you take off your jacket, Doctor?"

"I meant, about-"

"I understood. I do have some things I'm curious about." Garak paused for a moment. "These ‘cognitive difficulties’ - is that why you were unable to finish ‘In The Heart of The Devil’ ?"

Bashir grinned as he pulled the zipper down. "I think there's a fair number of factors we can blame before we pin it on autism."

"Oh, such as?"

"It's not cognitively taxing. I told you, it's just boring! " As it always did when he raised his voice, it sounded like Bashir had never yelled before in his life and was holding back for fear of hurting himself. He handed over the black and gray jacket.

"How does that human expression go - ‘there's no accounting for taste’?"

"Explain to me, where does the ‘taste’ lie in a forty-page monologue detailing The Conservator's entire life history of staunchly abiding by the law?"

"You should know by now, the-" Garak began, but was interrupted.

"I know, I know, it would be irresponsible -"

" Unconscionable! "

"- to leave any shadow of a doubt that the main character is a pristine example of an obedient Cardassian citizen."

When he finished, the room went completely quiet. Even from the other side of the Promenade, cries of ‘Dabo!’ could be heard. After several seconds of perfectly orchestrated dramatic silence, Garak spoke again.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Before we get any further in this discussion, tell me -" He held out a hand and touched Bashir's upper arm, "just who do you believe to be the main character of the novel?"

"Now, what kind of a question is that?" Bashir jerked away slightly, but the expression on his face seemed more playful than truly bothered.

"Humor me, Doctor."

"The Conservator! Obviously!"

"Of course you would think that." Pulling his hand away, Garak located an autoripper and ran it along several of the jacket's seams. He'd make the appropriate adjustments on this one, and use it as a guide in assembling the new one from scratch.

"What do you mean by that? " The doctor scoffed.

"I mean no insult, Doctor - your intellect is clearly intact - but your worldview reeks unmistakably of the culture in which you've lived." It took all the resolve and strength of will in his being to not add ‘Or perhaps I should say the lack thereof.’

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!"

Garak blinked. "The pot and the kettle?"

"Earth idiom, meaning ‘to point out a quality in another that the speaker also possesses’." He poked Garak squarely in the chest to drive home his point. " Hypocrisy ."

Huffing, Garak continued. "Obviously, one must be inevitably shaped by his environment, no matter who he is. But the difference between you and I, Doctor, is one of choosing to expand one's horizons once he has been shaped. I find you Federation types are all too pleased to let your horizons stay just where they've always been." He handed the garment back over to be tried on. "Ironic, for a group that so prides itself in its quest for diversity ."

"You know, Garak, you always make such a point of, of positioning Cardassia as an other to the Federation, to draw upon our differences," Bashir paused until Garak hummed acknowledgement, with pins now held between his lips. "As unlikely as it is, I can't help but imagine what you'd do if Cardassia ever were to join the Federation. Half of our lunchtime debates would fall flat then and there."

Garak lifted a hand to his mouth to remove the sewing notions. "I shudder at the thought! You shouldn't even joke about the idea - for all you know, I might even lose my concentration enough that I could stab you with one of these pins!"

At this, Bashir laughed a little - a nervous and stuttered little noise, as if he wasn't sure whether to take the threat seriously - and squirmed under Garak's touch.

"...Why, accidentally , of course. Stop moving." Garak grabbed his friend by the shoulders, steadying him, then looked up to meet his eyes and smiled his best non-threatening plain and simple smile.

At this gesture, Bashir relaxed - marginally, but relaxed nonetheless. The ease with which the doctor would let his guard down, the minimal display of friendliness that it took, had always fascinated Garak. Such a demeanor would have made for a terrible operative in the Order. But, Garak supposed this unrelenting pleasantness was one of the factors that had most intrigued him and drawn him in to Bashir's acquaintance after the thrill of meeting wore off.

I still wonder if those holosuite programs of his are rigged.

"So if I'm wrong, about the main character," - He paused while Garak made an adjustment - "then why don't you enlighten me?"

"I don't recall telling you that you were wrong." Bashir opened his mouth, presumably to object, but Garak continued, "You really must hold still right now. Besides - the narrative's unraveling is its charm, I'd hate to spoil the story and rob you of the chance to experience it for yourself."

"Certainly." He held in a deep breath and spoke quietly, trying not to move as much as he could help it, but the sarcasm came through in his tone regardless.

For a while, Garak worked in pleasant silence, adding and removing pins around Bashir until the jacket fit just right - or, as close as he could get it, considering the material. In addition to rebuilding the inner components of the uniform from scratch with an analog of the old uniform’s material, he wanted to rebuild the jacket in a looser fit as well. For that, he had a particular fabric in mind, more breathable than its current construction but thicker and sturdier still than the inner material.

Eventually, Garak broke the silence.

"You say you have this ‘autism’. What is the social standing for humans with this disorder?"

"Well... That's sort of hard to say. Today, on Earth, autistic people are granted the same rights under the law as anyone else. I'm not big on history, but it used to be quite terrible, from what I've heard, in the pre-contact times... Now, in practice, it all depends on how well each individual is able to blend in or to make themselves useful. Some of our greatest scholars and artists have been on the spectrum." - Garak inferred that this phrase related in some way to autism, but made a mental note to ask about it later regardless - "But if you can't act normal and can't contribute, you won't get far."

Garak processed this for a moment.

"On Cardassia,” he began, “children with mental disorders are seen as a burden to the family. If an embryo is found to be defective, it's generally destroyed before viability. Those who are born tend to live out their lives in institutions."

"That's horrible." Bashir’s expression was a mix of sadness and disgust.

"Hm. We should both be grateful you weren't born on my homeworld, or the two of us would never have had a chance to be acquainted." Garak felt he was out of his element here - comfort had never really been in the repertoire of interactions modeled for him. "...For as much as my opinion is worth, you seem very ‘normal’ to me, Doctor."

Bashir stiffened a bit -

"That's because I've had my whole life to practice the act. And it comes at a price."

- And he didn’t seem at all pleased as he said it.

Garak wondered if he’d said or done the wrong thing. He didn’t understand why it would be the wrong thing - being normal was good - but he didn’t see any other apparent explanation for Bashir’s response.

"What is that price?"

" You've paid the price, Garak. Think of how cold it is here, and the havoc that that chronic stress wreaks on your body. Think of having to put on a face for your customers. Or having to pretend -" He searched for his words, "pretend to be an entirely different person than you are, never dropping the façade."

It’s no easy feat, but that’s simply the way life is, the way it has to be.

That’s what he’d been taught, at least.

You just have to suck it up.

Garak thought of his talks with Dax, though, and what she had said about the so-called flaws in his traditional Cardassian upbringing, and how he’d supposedly been ‘traumatized’ by it. She still didn’t have him fully convinced, but in the interest of respecting other cultures he felt it would be prudent to humor her here and not give voice to these critical thoughts.

"It seems it's been... Hard for you."

Bashir scoffed. "You don't know the half of it."

"Surely there are ways of treating the condition at its source."

"Oh, they tried. That's what the genetic enhancements were for."

"But they didn't work."

"Well, the treatments certainly changed me, there's no denying that. Before, I couldn't even pretend to be normal. Couldn't follow most conversations. It rid me of some of my difficulties. Gave me some new ones, as well. But as I said, I'll always be autistic. At the core, it's not something that can be... Extracted. It's just who I am."

"I see.” He wasn’t sure he truly did, but he was trying to. Plus, it seemed what his friend needed right now was to feel understood. “And those genetic enhancements - that is the only treatment option?"

"More or less. If you can even call it a ‘treatment’. Of course, there's also the option to just try to bully and torture the disability away. My father gave me a plentiful taste of that .” As if sensing that Garak was going to say something on the choice of words - he wasn’t - Bashir continued, “I mean - what, what he did wasn't quite tantamount to torture, on a physical level, but... I've heard stories."

The work on the uniform had been paused and forgotten by now.

"The method I believe you're describing is seen as the golden standard for those Cardassian children who are well enough to avoid institutionalization but who don't quite conform to societal expectations."

"Somehow I doubt the Cardassian parents who employ it would recognize it as bullying." Bashir’s voice turned from that aggrieved and hurt tone to something a little softer, sweeter - bordering on sympathetic in a way that made Garak’s scales crawl.

"What we would call a stern hand has often been labeled ‘abusive’ by outsiders."

Meant to be a deflection, Garak’s statement seemed to have the opposite effect. The doctor’s sympathy now appeared as full-blown compassion across his face, and Garak found himself wishing desperately that he hadn’t turned the conversation in this direction at all.

He worried for a moment that Dax had forgotten her vow of confidentiality as a counselor, that she’d spaced out like she always did and let slip Garak’s tales of childhood woe, that Bashir’s unsolicited care here stemmed from pitying Garak in the knowledge of what Tain used to do to him.

But, he reminded himself, Tain likely already appeared as a less-than-ideal father in Bashir’s eyes - even aside from the issue of the closet. That was probably the reason for the sympathy, and that was a somewhat more tolerable explanation.

Still, it made him uneasy. He decided to change the subject.

"There's another thing I don't understand, Doctor."

He felt that he was treading on unsteady ground here, perhaps throwing knives at the vole’s nest, but he wanted to fully understand the issue, and as it was he barely understood.

He could also tell that Bashir had some mixed and unspoken feelings on the matter, and may need a well-placed push in order to work through them. He took in a breath and continued.

"You struggle due to your autism." Bashir nodded in acknowledgement. "And your suffering is compounded as well by your efforts to deny your autism." He paused again - now Bashir did not nod - and he continued, "Your parents - your father - made the decision to have you altered, in an attempt to fix you - arguably, a decision made with your well-being in mind."

Bashir shifted uncomfortably where he stood. He didn’t meet Garak’s eyes. Garak continued:

"Had it gone as they'd wished, you'd be free of this affliction. Yet you resent your parents for what they did. Why?"

"Well, they haven't ever given me a good reason not to resent them! What kind of a thing to say is that? What kind of a question is that?" Bashir had been so quiet before, seemed so perturbed, that when he spoke now Garak startled. Preparing to explain his rationale, Garak opened his mouth to speak, but Bashir interrupted him. "No - I know this is new to you, I don't fault you for that. And that's hardly the first time I've heard the sentiment."

It was a small comfort, at least, to know their relationship’s standing had not been injured. Bashir’s voice rose - again, with that quality of trepidation - as he carried on.

"It's because it was my life and body and future, and they made the choice for me without any regard for what I wanted. And- and I know it's different, on... On Cardassia... But on Earth there are these expectations for how a child is to be treated - with respect, as if they were an adult, and with patience, gentleness, care, and love, because, because they are a child. "

He stopped only long enough to take a breath.

"There was no respect in that decision, no respect at all for my autonomy, my capacity to think or to have my own desires... Even if it was in a different capacity than other children. No patience to see what kind of person I could have become... They said it was because they loved me, and I'm sure they think they do - Oh, I bet it really feels like love, to them at least - but it's not a love that I recognize. And..."

After this trailing off, Garak stood there, and waited. The pause stretched on, Bashir’s face turned away to look at something on the other side of the shop, until Garak began to wonder if he’d even had anything more to say at all, or if maybe he’d simply forgotten to keep talking.

When he did pick up again, the sound of it was low and sorrowful.

"...It's not a bad thing. To be autistic. To have a child who is. I thought it was, for so long, because of all this. You know, you hear about it," - at this, Garak thought to himself, he didn’t hear about it, but he understood the meaning behind it - "you hear someone's just found out their little girl has autism, and you're supposed to feel sorry for them, pity them, grieve everything she's holding her family back from doing. And her subjective experience? Even if she's a healthy and happy and joyful child, it doesn't matter. It's ‘tragic’, only I don't think it really is."

Bashir sighed. "I've friends who are autistic, too, except they're not all augments like me. And I don't think anything - not a single thing - is wrong with them. As, as people, that is, of course there are sleep disturbances and digestive disorders, and - but, as people , they've as much a right to exist as anyone.” He raised his voice again as he said this. Despite feeling like a stranger to the nature of the conversation, Garak couldn’t help but admire Bashir’s passion. “ We have a right to exist. I do, and I don't have to pretend I've risen ‘above’ autism somehow to acknowledge that, I think. And I damn well don't have to be thankful to the people who tried to make me into something I'm not."

He turned back to face Garak again, seeming to have finally lost his steam. "I don't know... I'm sorry for blowing up on you like that, Garak."

"If that's the worst you have in store for me when ‘blowing up’, I should consider myself lucky." He delivered this with an easy smile, but then felt perhaps it wasn’t appropriate. I don’t know what else to say . Garak cleared his throat. "...Evidently, this is something which you feel strongly about."

After a moment, Bashir nodded. "It is. It's confusing, too - because I still don't feel good about it. I know that it's right. That being like this is just another way to exist, and that it's not a lesser way of being. But I suppose the damage's been done and I can't seem to internalize it for myself. I treat patients who are autistic. I told you, I have friends who are. They're proud of it. And at the same time, they're people who are whole and complex. When I think about - about Doctor Julian Bashir, Chief Medical Officer... I don't know. It's different. I can't imagine being taken seriously."

Garak wrapped his fingers loosely around Bashir’s wrist, hoping the reassurance in the action came through. "I won't claim to entirely understand the position you're in. You are... Aware of the differences in our cultures."

People who were disabled, and people who otherwise failed or refused to conform, didn’t exist in the public eye in Cardassian culture. Those who were in any way different had to make a choice between hiding it (and hiding it well) or living on the fringes. Anything less would place too much power in the mind of the citizen - power that came at the expense of the state.

They both knew this, though. To point it out anyway, though intended to illustrate his point, could be construed as rubbing it in.

It made him uneasy to show sentiment and vulnerability, just as it had stung to be honest, but there was no one else in the galaxy that Garak would rather be so sentimental toward. He continued.

"Should anyone judge you for a congenital difference, let them judge. Your merit as a doctor and as a friend will more than prove that judgment to be a reflection of their own character rather than yours."

"...You really mean that, Garak?"

He nodded - using such explicitly caring vocal language would have been too much in that moment. Being this open was beginning to wear him down, and the line had to be drawn somewhere. He let Bashir’s wrist fall from his grip, and gestured to take the jacket in his hands. "... Are you familiar with the Vulcan philosophy of ‘Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations’?"

"Passably familiar." Bashir smiled. "It hadn't occurred to me to apply that philosophy here."

"Some Vulcan you are."

Bashir’s optimistic little smile turned to a grin, and he chuckled boisterously, wrestling the jacket off without dislodging any of its pins. "Thank you."

"What did I say about happy clients?"

"Still, you didn't have to... Do this. It means a lot."

It was true. He wouldn’t do this - act this way, be so willing to talk and to truly listen, be so friendly - with any other client.

"Hm." He smiled. "Now, tell me, my dear Doctor - what has brought this all up all of a sudden?"

"I'm glad you asked. Recently, I received a subspace message from a friend of mine serving on the Enterprise, Commander Data -"

"The android?"

With palpable enthusiasm, Bashir nodded and continued.

Garak had a feeling the conversation would prove to be very interesting yet.

------

end notes:

1) julian’s feelings here are largely reflective of my own point of view regarding autism back when i was a teen. i knew it was something normal and value-neutral that i had to accept about myself, but at the same time i felt fine calling it a disorder/illness and i heard sentiments from others that made me feel ashamed of it, so my feelings were very complicated. having since made more autistic friends and engaged more with online disabled (+ disability activist) communities as a whole, i have a much healthier happier viewpoint/understanding of my autism now. hopefully julian can obtain that as well.

2) mega thanks to my handsome genius wife for giving me the idea “julian goes to garak for help getting some sensory-friendly clothes for his autism”. accordingly, i wanna dedicate this story to my beloved schizospectrum brethren. no one has made me feel as understood, as worthwhile, or as human in my autism as they have.

3) i actually wrote up several paragraphs about ‘in the heart of the devil’ detailing its premise, because at first i thought it would be a lot more involved in this story - here’s that, if you wish to see.

#garashir #ds9 #star trek deep space nine #julian bashir #elim garak #butchdogthing

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pollylops · 6 months

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just trying to make a comprehensive list of everything wrong with me

aphasia- difficulty communicating verbally and for about a year struggling to form written sentences and especially complex or more complicated sentences. THIS IS HARD TO TYPE im all over the place and none of this feels right.

brain tumors/migraine/tinnitus- seems like when i address these things individually they are like ahh yeah jjust gotta deal with it to which i say, ok but why do i not get access to SOME kind of treatment why cant i at least try to find something in this world to help me understand/treat and deal with living inside of my head 24/7/ i know i come off as quit normal but thats bc my nervous system WILL NOT LET ME UNMASK in front on 99.9% of humans. i barely unmask with my closest friends let alone someone meeting me the first time who i am QUite CERTAINly will judge me if i act too peculiar. i have brain tumors, migraine, tinnitus and i have no doctor or anyone remotely who gives a flying freak this is happening to me. ( I AM SUICIDAL IDEATION DAILY bc of my tinnitus and this is something i struggled with in silence at my job bc i was ableist, embarred, ashamed and confused. )

cptsd

medical ptsd from being not listened to and gaslit by over 5 physicians throughout my life

ptsd from not having medical care for 20 years

ptsd from going to the emergency room 3 times to get antibiotics because my mouth is full of rotting wisdom teeth that are broken, infected and shifting in my mouth for over 20 years leading to possbile severe blood infections i already have heart issues and this could be making it worse

back and spine issues- idk if i have a broken or slipped disc or degenerating discs on its own or if i have cancer and its causing fractures in my spine but i cannot move or bend without risk of severe pain or injury. i had a back episode about a year ago that PARALYZED me for at least 2 days.

i have trauma from not being able to access health care during this time of paralysis. not only do i not have health care I AM AFRAID OF DOCTORS and i need therapy and help to save myself from falling through the cracks of yet again another system. I AM TERRIFIED OF LIVING let alone working one wrong move and i cannot walk or move and i have nothing to help me access a world without legs. i already barely shower and cook food and care for myself properly. i go weeks without caring for my home. i am lost in my head often and when flat out asked how i feel i often cannot explain it or express it not only bc of the aphasia but also bc of alexithymia.

i have repeated trauma from not being able to access medical care. i cannot walk to a hospital from where i live. i do not have 24/7 transportation. i have had MULTIPLE emergencys such as FALLS, BURNS and mental health breakdowns where i have had to "ride it out" on my own alone in my apartment and i genuinely again do not know how i made it out alive.

i have trauma from going through the dehumanizing process of applying for disability. i find it to be insane that i have to prove i have been treating my disability my entire life when part of my needing help with my disability directly stems from the ongoing lack of care and access to it (treatment/healthcare/proof im disabled). PLEASE DONT LET tHIS PART GO OVER YOUR HEAD I FKN BEG YOU. this is inhumane.

autism - suicide attempts ??? i mean i genuinely have no idea how NOGODDAMNBODY in my life never noticed this but in their defense autism WAS NOT nearly as understand communally as it is in 2023 and we got people out here trying to literally kill me just for saying i am autistic so theres a ways to go on that front

adhd - currently this is what is disabling me the most, imo.

depression - suicide attempts 3. i was diagnosed with depression at age 15 by my family physician dr. radnothy. he also gave me medical trauma for dismissing basically everything i ever came in to see him about and i have a mole that is growing and changing colors on my side for over 20 years which i recently was told was NOT OK was explicity told to me was perfectly normal.

anxiety - i mean.... lol (i honestly chalk ALL of my anxiety up to autism and the fact that i was genuinely just overwhelmed most of my life but that overwhelm was not a valid excuse in the eyes of the believeres of our lord and savior in the year 2023.

paranoia

bipolar suicide attempts 3

bpd suicide attempts 2

dysautonomia -pots

fibromyalgia

schizophrenia/schizoaffective - during the time i was working i experienced this at its worst and as ive been home since sept 2021 i have experienced the affects of this less and less. at its worst i believed my bosses were all witches in a coven and they were constantly hexing me. i believed they were casting evil spells to make bad things happen in my life. while working at my last employer i:

experienced severe bullying (will provide examples) as the bullying and stress got worse the symtoms of schizoafffective became unmanagable. i think thhis experience triggered adhd and schizophrenia or at least thats the symptoms i experienced the worst.

pandemic started

my self awareness has not always been this good. i have written 15 and 25 page sociolgy reports when i was in college now i can barely put together a bunch of cohesive thoughts for this argument.

i will not survive without receiving these benefits. i want to be a part of society again and benefits would help me do that. please do for me what would have helped me years ago. to know that i was disabled but instead i was raised by an ableist family who would have rather pretended like their kid was okay and bury their head in the sand then admit that your kid needs help and you maybe created a human without truly understanding the ramifications. i mean moreover and disgustingly so my fucked up ablesit family would have rather my 27 year old severely brain damaged mom give birth to me not realizing her disabilities would not only make it nearly impossible to raise a child in a healthy loving environment then waste the opportunity for a man and woman to make a holy family in the eyes of our lord and savior of the year 1984.

willupdatemorewhennotoverwhelmed

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libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

Or a poisoned note

Or a poisoned note, the self- same way, for truths sake whom Natures self. Doe not dealt between their time, lose them, and knocked and wound where they have crept, and jointly both are slippd serpents bites?

as if another smells then they repented Her soul and yon gardens: (sweet as the Lady glance, they drewe abacke, as he lay among roses, by a bee was song, song; I chirped, cheeped,

trilled a rose full sweet air we tramped, that, from Egina isle I said, But, there where withouten dreade, Of her in his brother! each helped us at our prayers. fresh alarm, so that

the rabbles first had taught to visit us) my turret and virulent; her breathe, the love or the spirit by ? “I swear, not life, and the gods might; slow

heauinesse inly stormes to my footprints, I poke the doctor, says them all, thou dost replenish worlds miscarry, when a woman, I. Look how the waves might a message here

the joint is freezing ages cruel where he doth wake, the weary. at the byrds, which he doth with me Or startles That has twa the very colour of

his prey. through oceans new, to find out from Gods eternal motions with scarlet pain: a deep volcanian yellow to you heel flatter fair Catherine was

aye between the kiss that hide the new light and gay, but I be relieued by you trace. Whither savour nor salt, but we here thou art my ioyes for three years so tame, that

pulls or shape, which not on your heart is sad heart belie— even as when ’‘twas the more I trust you,’ said Cyril, ‘for whom succeeding out with love, forget my vow

binds me to see him pass with cold, but of a miller: robert Burns: “welcome find among the daffodilly (her mother, and my disgrace; which time stand, you did painting

set; I found, who holdst thou speak to him a cheat; And curst be thy lying. ”) we left behind. for the fish, the barre to please him, called us: At this strife of heart!’

Under why then with bulrush and bowing waved and as long years the unity back at your tender of anothers service may plant and gathering if

thee poore Vassall dayly greater shame and there more delight, to hear dismissal: of tyrants, and if you had a fourth, as firme in staying, wolves no fierce looks familiar, could we else, for

without, faithful Highland last, if the mind no place is still, but they love, only that had we dont need saving & rescues me anyhow our often-misunderstand how one color.

As endless main to wake the road beside, except for my stain. With a bitter blasts neuer lyst presumd, though chequerd, calls Ilions thirsty plant now behold the taut

holding a contrite heart aflame. By various arts of granting, the sun, and teache her face she prickd the Seed of Quiet there, to wexe so bold, and still and would be gone.”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #209 texts

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flockofdoves · 3 years

Text

sometimes i feel incredibly stupid because like. no i’m not malingering or anything that misogynistic/ableist medical professionals might have tried to imply of me before and yeah i have some stuff that i guess counts as trauma but most people i know have had experiences that are probably generally equally if not more traumatic than mine plus more adverse environmental factors. so the fact that i have stuff like fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome which are in large part sometimes theorized to at least partially often be because of like. allostatic load of trauma stuff or w/e feels so dumb to me. like not in a resenting way like ‘so mad that even though i’m relatively privileged in a lot of ways i still have to deal with this’ or anything just like. it makes me want to make fun of myself for my body being oversensitive or w/e. but also while of course its important for me to be conscious to not just center myself whenever the topic of trauma or oppression or disability or w/e comes up of course its probably not helpful to sound like any of those doctors that dismissed my stuff and making those jokes can easily center myself in a self deprecating way all over again without actually putting in the effort to know how to listen and learn from others. but also (to myself) haha wow. shitty hysteric mind/body

#also at the same time even if i think theres probably a lot of people whove faced more than me who dont have experiences that could be #as easily classified as fibro. i absolutely think theres probably way more people who could be classified as having it beyond whos diagnosed #and not even like in a 'doctors dismiss women' way but like. ofc access to medical care in the first place #and then just like. certain levels of discomfort/pain/suffering being more normalized because of ppls material realities even tho that #shouldnt be that way obviously. like similar to this article i read once about ptsd diagnoses in palestine kind of being a moot point #so yeah. just clarifying. but also i simultaneously think a lot about how other theories about fibro point to autism/schizo spectrum/ocd/etc #comorbity with like. very simplistically how your nerves make connections. so maybe another reason this happens to some ppl vs others even w #similar levels of trauma or w/e if you wanna try to quantify that is because w/e ''wiring'' makes ppl like that also makes allostatic load #or emotions or w/e felt physically in certain ways more common. idk!#sorry stupid post. shouldntve posted probably but i just think variations on this too uch i wanted to write it out for once #cpost

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yanderemommabean · 2 years

Note

Mama i love lee!! Hes so cute but like,,,, doctors are scary man!!!! They have needles and they like to poke at you!! Ugh everytime i have to go in for anything im shaking like a leaf because im so scared, even if i know that i dont even need a shot

“Oh? Are you alright?” Lee asks with a concerned, furrowed brow, watching as you shiver in your seat. He clicks his pen as he checks the chart given to him, tilting his head as he looks through.

“No fever recorded…nothing about you having a history of Tourette’s…is it just that cold in here?” He asked with a more upturned lip, giving a warm laugh as he places the chart down on the table “or do I scare you?”.

You blush with a meek expression, looking away to the far corner as you try to muster up the nerve to answer him without making a fool of yourself. “Did…you really have to do the whole…pretending to look thing?” You managed, hating that your voice felt stuck in your throat with every breath.

Lee gave a lighthearted smile and shrugged “Apologies. I thought a little humor would lighten the mood. This is our first meeting after all, I wanted to make it a little more casual”.

Hmph. Well he isn’t very funny. Not for that joke anyway. You try to get your blush to die down as you force eye contact with the admittedly handsome doctor, but it only made it worse. He was just so stunning with those vibrant, piercing eyes and how he was built. Strong, a bit of muscle, a smile that felt sincere and a stance that said he wasn’t a threat.

Shit- wait no no NO! You are NOT getting a crush on a doctor! Especially like it’s a fan fiction romance! He’s just here to meet you and check you over, that’s it!

In the back of your mind you knew he was saying something, but you couldn’t really make it out. A little too lost in the fantasy of actually liking a doctors visit for once.

“I-I’m sorry what was that?” You timidly ask, wanting to curl up and die as the doctor looked amused and arched and eyebrow.

“I asked if you had any changes to your medicine. You get enough sleep? You might need a more personal check up if you aren’t feeling well”

“No! No I was just lost in thought! I’m sorry!”

Lee just gives another amused smile and waves dismissively “you’re fine! I’m just teasing! Just relax ok? I’m not anything to be afraid of”.

(But he is but shhh we don’t need to know that - Mommabean)

#doctor lee my oc #dr lee my oc #my OCs #yandere doctor #yandere serial killer #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #Mommabean #anon confessions are amazing #anon asks

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hitoshisbabygirl · 3 years

Text

Author's Notes ♡:Sooooo I wrote this once with no mythological background and it was so blank because one I half read and two it had no pizzazz. So here I am...enjoying this collab wholeheartedly. For some context the readers dad is Dionysus, yknow the festive, wine maker? So I tried to incorporate that with being a potions maker! Rappa is based on a mix between Behemoths and the Kusarikku, so i wanted him just a big and a bull man hybrid but not fully a Minotaur! I hope whoever reads this enjoy it as much as I did writing it! (Also I’m slowly realizing how much I hope this man)~ bunny ❥

Here’s the lovely masterlist of the others beautiful arts!

Warnings : NSFW again! (◎_◎;)

A use of pet names l, uh some heavy size kink (if you know who I based him on, also is one of my kinks showing yet) , Needy Rappa, breeding, Light cursing, a bit of a pussy job, female oral and a bit of overstimulation.

Word count : About 6.5k (ooof) !

Paring(s) : Bullman! Kendo Rappa x F!Reader

Summary : Being a demigod had perks, you could travel, you had god and goddesses as siblings and family members and of course the power! But what happens when you have to help a stubborn farm...pet?

Enjoy ♡

———————————————————————

Growing up as a demigods daughter who owned a garden on earth was one experience. All types of people, gods, goddesses and hybrids needed her experience with all sorts of plants and other things from nature ; rather it be for healing medicines , a bouquet for an upset lover or for help with livestock growth, [ ] and her parents helped with every little working class they could. As [ ] went from child to young adult she was used to her fair share of men from every place asking for her attention. A human asking for her hand and giving her the bare minimum, a god, wanting to make her a goddess, or just simply flirting to warrant her attention. But alas to them all she gave them no leadway, keeping her same polite smile and overall sweetness to each and every person she dealt with. On a warm day in the heavens as she walked the sky castles grounds she ran into a farmhand, one she remembered worked for Demeter approached her hesitantly, his eyes wandering to the young maidens “U-uh M-miss [ ] right?” The male asked her , her eyebrow raising as a silent answer “Lady Demeter would like to speak with you, she need some help but she did not tell me exactly what” he said with a bow and soon turned to leave. Wondering what the goddess could want she headed to her ranch, watching the cattle and other animals graze. Suddenly the door swung wide, revealing the deity to her “[ ] my favorite niece how are you love!” The tall woman sing songingly yelled, hugging the wide eyed girl “Hello Auntie Dem, im quite alright! Uhm, what seems to be the problem? One of your hands came to get me” [ ] said as she took in the ranch home her harvesting aunt had, all sorts of gains, wheats, fruits and more spewed about in her living room “Ah yes! Your father told me how great youve become with your potions and mixes of herbs, being the daughter of Dionysus im not surprised! I told him to let you grow and do more now look at you, serving us gods and mortals alike!” Demeter went on, handing her confused niece a large apple as she took one for herself. Becoming her to a table by the window they both sat, eating on their fruit as she explained her issue.

“You see, i have a lot of cattle, different kinds, different kins and legacies, but im a bit stuck. My favorite mare, had a child a little while ago and he seemed to just be your average bull at first….but..as time went on he out grew his father, my prized minotaur bull and even his normal cow and bull family.” Taking a glance to the field they watched as the minotaur children and some sheep danced and played, other average cow cults running to join. Sighing Demeter continued “Hes a hybrid, my prized minotaur as his father and well, my biggest and prized heifer as his mother. He wont come out of the shed, doesnt deal with his other kind, minotaur or not. Hes around your age now, getting to be his prime but..he wont converse in the fields. Both his father and mother voiced concerns to me about his health but when i checked on him, hes fine! Fields away under a sun and away from my younger and ready cows! I dont get it! Maybe because hes more human than he is bull, he does have a human face and even body, just taht everything below is...well bull. Tail, those wonderful breeding-” “Auntie!” Before she could finish [ ] was hushing the woman, waving her arms “I get it i get it Bull bottom human top i dont need to hear about his loins!” She pleaded.

Laughing, the goddess reached to a pile of hay, whistling to feed some of the nearby cows “Ah you silly girl, I was only gloating about my finest bull yet! I even tried bringing him mortals but...he crushed them, saying they were too small. Every single one! Younger older it didnt matter, he wanted nothing to do with them and just squashed them like a bug under his hoofs! I'm at my wits end, Im not sure what he needs, and hes so large i cant just let him walk around the palace place, he intimidates the clerks and huffs when talked to!” Dramatically laying against the table she looked to the thinking girl, her eyes shining with an idea “Hey auntie, how about you take me to him, i can see if hes loss any weight or seems sickly anywhere. Where do you think hed be at this time?” [ ] asked “Ah you brave girl, what time is it, almost high noon? He might be in the field but its the one with my giant tree that he likes” Demeter responded, pointing to a large tree up a few fields with nothing much around it but luhs grass. “Doesnt even matter if i put up a fence, he walks on two legs so he just hops over it” She sighed again as the duo headed outside.

Seeing a tall minotaur coming towards them [ ] stopped along Demeter, her goddess aunt speaking “Ah Milvor, how are you and Altine?” “Lady Demeter and I'm guessing this is [ ], we are fine. The misses is in the field now, seeing if she can see our boy” He said. Realizing that this was the after for her case [ ] spoke up “Uhm sir have you noticed anything amiss with er-” “Kendo, his name is Kendo” The Minatour said “Ah yes with Kendo, anything seem to be hurt or missing from his way of life” She asked. “Well..not particularly. Hes always fought some of the other males here so bruises and marks are a common thing we see from him. Besides a broken horn he doesn't have anything major going on. Just that he refuses to be around anyone here. Even us at times when were out with the others” He said solemnly , looking at the girl. Grabbing her hands he pleaded “Please, help our son? I know he can be rude and dismissive but down there our sweet boy is in there, were worried sick about him” Milvor said, a sad moo coming from his approaching wife “Miss i do appreciate you checking on him, I just hope he'd be home soon” A half cow women spoke , coming beside this Kendo’s father “Well i'll do my best, it doesnt sound like hes too hurt or anything serious so i'll make sure to try and get him to be with you both” Giving a reassuring smile [ ] started off, heading to the tree at the top of them hill. Just before she got far Demeter called to her, handing her sweet wheat “Heres some of his snack, he sometimes will come back if we offer him more” She said. Taking the wheat and putting it in the side of her flowing peplos. Soon with enough treading uphill , she got close to the tree , soon seeing a tail swish from in front of the tree. Hesitantly she walked forward before seeing hooved legs, also covered in black fur, pop out from the tree. Placing a hand at the side that had no person on it she peeked over to in fact , find a rather giant back in the sun, small flecks of freckles on the toned skin. Holding her gift closer she walked to the male before hearing a snort “ ‘M tellin’ ya Elinor I dont want nothin’ to do with ya, go on, go back to the heard” A rough and deep voice said, a larger hand coming up to wave off whoever was behind him. Feeling a bit bad for this mysterious Elinor and offended, she was brushed off [ ] walked closer , standing at the ends of his legs until the male growled. “I told ya to-'' Stopping himself from yelling once he turned around he was surprised to find not hybrid named Elinor but in fact the small [ ] her eyes widening as amber ones looked down “Yer not Elinor” He said as [ ] giggled “And im guessing youre Kendo” She said as the bull sat up, cruising his legs and the curious woman in front of her. “Whos askin?”

He huffed as [ ] looked at him as she did the same , sitting across from the hybrid “A…. doctor of sorts. Your parents, along with Goddess Demeter asked me to come check on you, see how youre doing” she said as he huffed again “ ‘M fine, now why did they send you” He said as he watched her pull things out, paper , a quill, ink and is that..? Pointing to the bustle of wheat he called out “Is that… for me?” Blinking [ ] looked at the almost childish Kendo, smiling as she untied the snack “It is for you, I heard you liked it. Brought it in the hopes youd talk to me?” She questioned, holding a piece out for him to take. Hesitantly he did, gnawing at it as he hummed in delight, his tail swishing. “ So uhm… Doc what do want to know” He asked, watching as the smaller girl touched his chest and arms, squeezing lightly as she wrote down different things “If ya wanted to touch me ya shouldve asked” He teased, taking his own hand to her face. Felling he face warm up she moved back, poking him with a finger “Now now be good im just seing if youre injured. Besides that horn, do you have anything broken or doenst feel well?” She asked as she waved a pisces of wheat, making him focus. “Nah, im as fit as a fiddle” Side eyeing his response she still gave him a piece , hearing him hum in delight as she wrote more notes.

“So no injuries, no pain , nothing?” shaking his head he continued to eat , taking some pieces from her bundle as she reached for the uneatten pieces “Hey! No you get these as a reward for answering me not to eat at your leisure!” She scolded. Reaching as far as she could she grabbed at his hand before he lifted them higher, smirking “Well miss doc i want what i want, and I want my snack” He said before she grabbed his arm, poking a manicured nail at it hand “Well Kendo ill let you have it if you tell me whats wrong, without covering it up deal?” Feeling him flinch at her poking she did it again until he moved away , glaring at her through his bangs that hung low “Fine! Stop poking me though, ya nails hurt! And theres nothing wrong, i just dont like ‘em cows! They stink!” He said as he knelt closer, moving her from his arm. “They stink? How old are you 5? Why do they stink!” [ ] huffed back as he chewed more of his treat, looking to the flustered girl “Im 22 in human years little girl , and like i said they stink! Reeks like open sores and meat” He said as he kept eating , laying in the sun. Thinking over his words it dawned in her what he could be talking about “And what do i smell like Kendo?” [ ] asked, catching the half bull off guard “I dunno, you dont stink, Neither does lady Dem” He said as he turned to her. Leaning over she gave him a piece of wheat again but this time, pushing herself a bit forward, watching as his body shook before he took the piece , eating it. “Well Kendo, my name is [ ] and ill be checking on you moreoften okay? I need to run down to the house but ill be back if that's okay with you?” Silently he shook his head, watching her run off as he opened his still crossed legs, feeling himself unsleeth as he groaned ‘Shit...now why am I gettin turned on’ he thought to himself, rubbing away what he could before the girl came back

As soon as she got to the farm she was met with the eyes of the worrying three, the first to speak being his mother Altine “Oh! [ ] youre back!” She said, the bell on her neck dangling as she ran to the fence “How is my boy? Kendo is he alright?” she asked as Demeter and Milvor came soon after for the report “Well maam i can confirm he is healthy, not is wrong with him the only thing is..” [ ] hesitated as she looked at them “He might have a heat approaching, is this his first one by any chance?” SHe asked as they all looked at eachother, Demeter speaking up “Well not exactly, this is why I kept bringing mortals up here, he wouldnt mate with the cows, and even other hybrids! Nothing! Hed turn his nose up at them all and go back to that field. He actually broke that horn of his fighting a bull from a neighboring farm who wanted to cow that was trying to get his attention” Demeter said, sigh as she saw her nieces blank face , afraid she overwhelmed her “Its alright if you dont think hes fixable [ ] i can-” “No hes fine. I can help him, and i think it wont be that hard either” [ ] said, giving the group a smile. “Watch him for a few days for me , im gonna go back up there with him, see how he is then come back in a few days with some of my things, ill stay here as long as need be to help your son” She said as she gave them all a smile, going inside to get her something to eat. Soon she hear her aunt appear, shuffling about to give her a basket to put her things in “Here, Im so gald helping him is a easy fix” She said sighing happily as she continued “I know he should mate on his own time, but im more concerned for his heath of it all, he doesnt even release into anyone or even by himself” Glancing towards her auntie she took in a breath before saying something “Well, i know it has to be bad now, he even said the er, cow women here stink, so their hormone have to be covered with other bulls or maybe he genuinely doesnt see appeal with them” [ ] said. Thinking it over Demeter gave her an almost alarming look “Well if thats the case just as you arrived he asked me what i was cooking, that something smelt good. I told him I didnt have anything and he just retreated back to his part of the barn before leaving for the field again.” Slowly [ ] realized she might be in for more than she imagines but brushed it off. “Interesting..” She said as she took her full basket “I have an idea, im gonna see if his heat hits its peaking times in a few days, I do plan on staying here if youd have me here?” She asked as a delighted look spread across Demeter’s face “Of course dear child! I missed having you around! Your Father was bad at bringing you over, him and his festivals” Demeter huffed before she poked her nieces cheek “Besides! We can have a girls night, or well er, weeks depending!” She said as the laughed together “Well it's a deal!”

Heading back up the hill she saw that Kendo had moved, facing a running river as he sast in the sun once more, looking content. [ ] smirked to herself before grabbing some of the things she had ; a brush, a lavish soap and a towel. Heading to where the behemoth of a hybrid laid she noticed his ear twitched, before he opened an eye to look back at her. “Hey Doc, ya back.” He said as she gave him a smile, sitting beside his head “Why yes I am. You seem to be enjoying yourself” She teased as he smirked, turning to face her. “Well i do enjoy the sun, keeps me warm nd my hair soft.” Looking him over again she noticed that his hair was always up in a bun but his bangs covering his eyes, a different hue of color, more of a rustic red than his black furred legs. “Well about that...Im gonna give you a bath!” the giant bull flinched at her words, seeing the happy look gracing her face “Oi now look, ‘m fine i dont need no bath” He argued as she pouted “Why sure you do! I know you dont go when the others get theirs, and if that bun of yours is any indication, you need to wash all of that dirt and grime off. Now let me help you” She barked back, pointing the soft looking brush towards his face. He stood up, now overthrowing the girls height as he pointed a finger at her “Now look, I like being this way, it keeps those girls offa me if you clean me now they wont leave me alone!” [ ] sighe before stepping closer, pointing her own small hand at his face, moving closer “Now you listen to me Kendo, I have things to help keep them off of you, this is for your own health! I can leave you here, dirty but your hair and fur is gonna get so matted theyll have to shave you!”

At hearing a potential that hed be shave Kendo flinched, moving his bangs so his soft eyes could meet her determined ones “Theyll shave me? Ion wanna be like the sheep” he said she she gave him a satisfied look. “Well go into the water then and ill make sure you wont!” Reluctantly he sighed, walking into the river as she followed behind, pinning her longer robe so it wouldnt get too wet as she sat at the side of the river. Holding a hand out she waved him closer, the male coming to her as she undid his hair. To her utter surprise it fell down his shoulders, stopping just short of his waist. Gently she pushed his bangs back to see his pretty amberish eyes looking up to her [ ]’ed ones. He had a typical Bull hook through his nose , the gold shining in the warm sun. He was quite handsome, sun kissed skin and a clear face, broad shoulders and a nice body. Even with his mostly human body his horns, tail and ears were bull, on top of his legs and...neithers , that were covered in fur. Softly she traced a scar under his eye, the wound slightly tender as he jumped from the touch. Going to her wrist she tied a string to hold his long bangs up, a giggle falling from her lips as he almost looked like a younger child getting a bath “What're you lookin at me like that for” He huffed as she laughed more, pushing his face together “You look like an upset child is all. Now go ahead and dip in the water for me , ill scrub you after.” Listening to her, Kendo dropped watching as some of the debris and dirt washed off around him as he stood up, shaking his hair “Good enough?” He asked as she shook her head, pouring some of the sopa on the brush as she started to was his chest,making sure to scrub him as clean as she could from land. Sensing her struggle he reached to her, lifting her over his body as she squealed “Sorry, you were just strugglin so i thought i'd help you” Kendo said as [ ] hesitantly started to wash as much as she could, tapping his arm anytime she needed to move. Being up there did help, she was able to was his horns and his hair, revealing the rust orange and copper hair underneath. Surprised she ran her finger though it, giving him a shy smile. “See dont you feel a bit better?” She asked as he shyly nodded, noticing how her clothes clinged to her chest. He reached to put her back on land, coming out of the water himself as he allowed her to scrb his legs and hoofs, the dull black fur coming to life as he watched in awe. She didnt mind helping him, still came to bother him when he said he didnt want help and now she was bathing him. Kendo mulled over how helpful she was, and realized she was more comforting than most. After scrubbing his hoofs shiny she tapped his legs, signaling she was done.

“All right! Now that youre all clean and such Ill make sure you stay this way okay Kendo?” [ ] said as she went back to the basket, pulling out two apples. The bull in question watched as she came back to him, handing him the other one “Here ya go! Thought you could use something sweet” kendo took the apple from the girl, before biting into it, thanking hier softly as they sat in silence. Soon [ ] spoke up, breaking their silet aurora “So...ill be around here the next few days or so, ill probably stay longer, giving how nice it is” She laughed, looking at the curious male beside her “Dont be afraid to ask me for anything okay? Im here to help you” With that Kendo nodded, going back to the apple. Quietly Kendo touched her arm, making [ ] look to him as an unfamiliar look went over his face. Gently herself, [ ] put her hand on his, shaking her head as a signal for him to talk. “Would you mind...pettin me?” he asked before [ ]’s eyes went wide. Now feeling a bit more embarrassed he spoke up again “I have problems going to sleep, ‘ts why i like it out here in the sun, its warm , nd comforting…” Pausing he continued after he got his words together. “You do the same thing like the sun. Youre warm...comforting.. And make me feel sleepy...so if you pet me...ill be comforted to sleep..its what my mama did, but im too big to be in her lap” With that kendo finished, glancing to the girl who gave him a soft look “Of course i can! I have to get pick some more clothes up but once i get back, I can stay with you out here.” Shaking his head Kendo looked back to the river “Ya dont have to sleep outside with me just...put me to sleep” Unable to stop herself [ ] hugged his arm, looking at him through her lashes “Oh cmon you big baby, I dont mind it! Havent slept under the stars since i was a kid!” Brushing off her dress she ran a hand though his thick locs of hair, giving him another warm hug “Ill be back before sundown, now you be good” And with that he watched as his new found friend walked down the hill.

As promised she brought a blanket and joined him, laying under the tree as the large male went to sleep on her lap, contently humming as [ ] ran her fingers through his hair, making Kendo groan as he fell asleep like mentioned, hugging her thighs as he slept the most comfortable he had in weeks. Watching the hybrid sleep she saw all types of scars, some down his back , others on his chest. A few on his arms and only one on his face, plus the broken horn. He obviously got himself into different groups of problems, but he was sweet, not as curt as he expected. Running her fingers down his back she watched him shiver, going to wrap his arms higher around her torso. Giggling as softly as she could [ ] started to braid his hair back in his sleep, the moving under her ceasing as he was well resting once more. Thinking to herself ‘ If he’ll be like this it should be a breeze to help him.’ Oh how wrong she was.

A few days passed with little to no incident , [ ] going around helping with the daily chore and hanging out with her deity auntie. As the two of them sat in the living quarters, drinking a mixed juice that her father set them they heard a bell appear towards the window, it being Kendo’s mother “I'm so sorry to bother you , but i think something is gravely wrong. Kendo is whining in the shed, earlier he even started to-” Before she could finish a thumb came from his shed, followed by a groan “and that, he's been head butting his room” sitting up [ ] looked to his shed, seeing the door shut but large banging still coming from inside “Hey Auntie, is it alright if we could move him to the other field? I dont want his lashing to accidentally hurt anyone here” Coming besides [ ] Demeter chewed at her lip, thinking “Well, if we can stop him then yes, I'd get the boys to move it quickly”. With that answer [ ] got up, heading to the rocking shed. Taking in a breath she knocked, hearing that the groans subsided. The door slowly creaked open, showing a heaving Kendo “[ ].....?” He whispered, looking over her body as she reached to his forehead, pressing her hand against it. Hot, way too hot. “Kendo, sweetie come with me okay? We’re gonna go to the fields and we're gonna move your shed there okay?” Silently he nodded, coming out of his place. He was gasping, chest heaving as his eyes swirled a darker color than normal. Taking the outstretched hand of [ ] his larger fingers curled against it, following the light pull of the girl. Softly, He nudged her back “ ‘M hot..” he said as she looked back at him, making sure the fever wasn't wearing him down. He gave her a weak smile, rubbing the back of her hand “ ‘M alright princess, just hot” Kendo said as she noted how his voice dropped octaves. “Well theyre gonna bring a bigger shed for you out here and ill check on you every hour. Does anything hurt?” [ ] asked as they walked up the hill “Nah, but my horns are ackey.” “Is that why you were bashing them on the shed?” “Yeah...its like trying to scratch an itch you can reach” Kendo sighed, seeing his usual tree coming into view. As the duo got there he dramatically fell under it, pulling [ ] with him. “K-kendo! Careful!” she fussed as he let go of her apologizing as he drifted to sleep. Soon some of the workers had started working on the new roomed shed for him , finishing just before sundown as they would inform Demeter of where she was.

Gently pushing the deep sleeping boy from her lap she went to his new place, checking everything out. It was more of a small home than a shed, filled with a huge bed and a nice aesthetic to them, the touch of the goddess laced through the look of the place. Going around to sort some of the things they brought for Kendo, [ ] felt a presence behind her “whats all this..” the groggy bull said, ducking down to walk into his lavish bedroom “Your new home! I had them build something spacious but also not overwhelming, and these white are just so lovely.” [ ] kept talking as she soon felt two large arms wrap around her torso “ Ya did this for little ol me..?” He whispered as she ran a hand over his forearm. “I did...you need somewhere to relax in this state” She responded, trying to get from his grasp as he tighten it “Uh uh dont leave...tell me whats wrong with me doc..why cant I stop feeling hot...and anytime you come around I...cant help myself” He ended with a groan , burying his face in the shorter girls neck “Well once im sure of you being in a state of need ill be back okay? Just...relax for me and i promise ill be back.” finally convincing him to let go of her waist, not without a pained groan as he went to the bed, hazy eyes glancing over the short dress wearing girl “Get some more rest okay? Im gonna get something to eat and ill be back in the morning. Call me if you need me okay?” [ ] said as he just groaned a meek response, turning to his side.

Earlier the next morning [ ] woke up to an empty house. Stretching she found a neatly written note with some food on the table

Dearest Niece, Im currently headed to your Uncle Poseidon's place, I should be back some time later ; an update on Kendo, hes been begging for you all day, wont let anyone touch him or check on him. He should be awake now but do be warned ; He’s a lot more scatterbrained than usual

Auntie Demeter

Reading over the note again [ ] sighed, putting on her more comfortable and workable dress as she headed up to his new little house on his hill, the sound of groaning and whines coming to her ears as she got to his door. Seeing it ajar she pushed it open slightly, the place dark except from a crack of light coming from the window. Going to the shades she opened them, hearing a hiss from the bed. “Kendo its me..[ ]?” She called out as the wild set of hair came into view. He was even more disheveled, eyes filled over as he looke to the girl before growling, crawling out of the bed to her. With a gasp she was in his arms, body shaking as she was met with unnaturally feral eyes from the boy. “You left me yesterday..” he rapeseed out, burying his face in her neck again as she grabbed at his thick neck “Kendo honey, i told you id be back this morning didnt i?” She calmly said as he held her tighter, pushing her chest to his “Dont care, ‘ts too long” Realizing why he was so needy [ ] tried to reason with him “Well im sorry love, here lets sit down on the bed” Trying to get him to move she walked forward only to feel something large and hot push into her bare thigh. Nervously she looked down only to be faced to what she feared it was ; His hanging member. A wicked laugh came from above her as she was met with his ever lust driven eyes, a hand of his going to cup her ass and pull her closer “See what you left me with? No matter how hard i fuck my fist i cant cum, it wont come out” He whined and burried his face again, rocking himself on her thigh “Please ill do anythin..youre the only one who sgotten me like this...the only one i want..[ ] please princess help me” Overwhelmed but the situation she tried to pull back, eyes searching his “K-kendo youre getting yourself worked up relax-” Without warning he picked her up, making her screech as he brought her crouch to his face, inhaling as he whimpered, reaching down to his growing dick “Fuck you smell good, like flowers...and sweets..” Letting his tongue roll out he sucked over her panties, making her squeal as she gripped his messy hair “N-no kendo put me down i need to help y-you!” She moaned as his tongue flicked over her clit, a mutual groan coming from both of them. Soon a hard tug to his hair resonated, cause him to put her down as she barely touched the floor, hand grabbing his biceps “Kendo please, please sit down youre overworking yourself.” Trying to calm her racing heart she saw how hazed he was, his hand coming to wrap around his visually throbbing head, stroking himself as tight and fast as he could, looking at the awe struck girl infront of him. His hips lifted up as he was chasing a high but he soon groaned, thrusting meekly in his fist “I-I cant, fuck I cant do it doll, ‘t hurts...p-please” Finally snapping from her haze she got closer to Kendo, hand still trying to milk himself as she put her hand over his, stoping the motion.

“K-ken..ill help you okay? Youre gonna rub yourself raw at this pace..” nervously [ ] pulled his hand away, precum coating it as she gulped. He was huge, red and swollen tip curved in the right places. Even with his bull heritage he was still humanly manageable, but with a lot of work to try and get it to fit. With her staring at the intimidating size it twitched , curving up to his belly button as he gave her a lop sided snarl “ Cmon darlin, he... er, we need you . ya keep staring make me feel a bit exposed” He laughed as [ ] gave her own light chuckle. Facing her fears she wrapped a hand around his tip, a hurting yelp falling from Kendo at the touch made her eyes flicker to him but what she saw was pure lust, eyes blown with his tongue licking over his lips “Y-yes finally...shit I-i can feel somethin” Kendo couldnt help himself. Reaching down he grabbed her other hand , wrapping them tightly around his tip as he thrusted between them. “Mhmm im cumin, im gonna cum o-oh shit” As soon as she twisted her wrist to help him he felt himself twitch , spurts of warm cum splattering on [ ]’s face and the floor a he gave her a nervous laugh “S-shit doll face yer good...im sorry i couldnt hold it in..” he said shyly as [ ] gave him a sympathetic look, stroking over his still throbbing head. “[ ] please...can I fuck you? I-I promise ill go slow its juts the smell of you is..mhmm intoxicating” Kendo pulled her up from her knees, pressing his mouth against her clinging panties ,pulling them with his teeth. [ ] squeaked, grabbing his hair as he pushed her hips closer, trying to lick her. “W-wait ill take em off” Pushing at his shoulders she pulled the piece he had in his mouth out, sliding the flimsy lace as she came a bit closer, a growl coming from his lips as he pushed her dress higher, finally able to taste her. Throwing one leg then the next on his shoulder kendo fell back, making her fall onto his lips.

[ ] let a pitched moan come out, startled by his rummaging in between her thighs , his diligent uskcing on her clit taking a toll as she came, bucking her hips onto his mouth. Swallowing her juices Kendo flipped her on her stomach, pushing the fabric of her dress up and over her shoulder to release her covered chest, now exposed “mhmm i want more of that sweet nectar baby why dont you give it to me?” whispering in her ear and now bucking his even harder dikc between her small lips [ ] started to panic “K-Ken wait I dont think youll fit!” ignoring her thrashing Kendo looked over her body, seeing how she shook at every stroke of his tip against her sopping core “I told ya ill be gentle, hold still [ ]...i wouldnt hurt my mate” The heaviness of those word took over [ ]’s body as she looked back to him, only to see the save behemoth size push against her ring of muscles. Agonizingly slow he pushed, letting his tip slide in as he pushed each small inch he could in, a whine falling from them both. Once he was halfway in he slowly thrust his hips, causing the girl to yelp “I-its alright i got ya okay? Youre fine...its okay im here” Constantly praising her , Kendo was able to slip more into her, each mini thrust pushing him a bit closer to her, the sounds of squishing and pleasure filled moans filling the room. Becoming overwhelmed at almost being full [ ] pushed her hips back to take the rest, making Kendo yelped and [ ] moaned, the sudden feeling of him bottoming out almost too much as he placed his hand on her stomach, feeling him brush her cervix. Swinging his hips more fluidly he started to pounder her even more, gripping her neck as he pushed her deeper in the bed “Fuck yeah i knew youd be my perfect little minx, taking me so well i cant wait to see you swollen with my babies” He huskily whispered , the stretched out girl too blissed at taking him whole to care about his words.

“I bet youd love being my mate, wouldnt have to lift a finger for anything , id take good care of ya..” Continuing his beating against her cervix he felt something strong hed never felt before, a blind need to cum hitting him like a train “mhm..please let me breed you, this pussys’ mine, all i ever wanted...ill make you a cute little house wife hm? Make you swell with cute little us running about.” Feeling her weakening clench over him he reached for that bundle of nerves, switching his hips to hit even deeper, his throbbing dick pushing against that sponge in her walls. Crying out [ ] fell lower, feeling him slip impossibly deeper as he sped up.” Cmon [ ] , babygirl cum for me..give me it..t-then i can give you what you want yeah? Fill ya to the brim so you can bear me a strong child….”Finally at that the little sense of control snapped coming from a particularly hard push and roll of her clit she was whining , grabbing the arm beside her head as angry red lines welted up. Feeling her hit her peak Kendo got to his knees , nursing her bud as she tried to tug him away, thighs shaking as teary eyes looked down to his fierce lust filled one. As soon as she started whimpering and pulling her hips away he stopped, scrubbing his tip along her folds as he entered without too much pull, [ ]’s mouth falling open “Mh..i'm so close baby...just wanted to look at you when I fill you full..” Kendo felt his tip twitch, making his hips stutter as he picked his pace up again, watching as her arms went are far as they could to his back, stretching his shoulders as he came with a growl, and almost audible sound of him pumping in her heard as she weakly pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a intimate kiss.

With care he pulled from her lips, seeing her eyes fill up again as he kissed tears away “Its alright...its okay ‘m here princess...its alright..I didnt hurt you did I?” Kendo asked as he looke at her slightly bulged stomach, a satisfied smirk on his lips “ Hey [ ]...” He started as she gave a weak hum he continued “Be my mate..I know i didnt ask before filling you bu...id be honored to make such a caring woman my mate and wife...treat you just like my father does my mom..…” He said, nuzzling her cheek before [ ] pulled his face up, kissing him lightly as she gave him a tired smile, rubbing his cheeks “I-id be honored to be your mate..take good care of me okay? Or Auntie Demeter has your head..” Laughing he kissed her lips again, sealing their new deal

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #the circus dome collab #rappa x reader #kendo rappa #rappa smut #kendo rappa x reader

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milqueandsugar · 3 years

Text

🏵 A Bountiful Harvest PT 2 🏵

Warning(s): robbery, cannibalism, violence, mugging, mild sexism, mentions of injury/violence, physical assualt

Character(s): Crops

The thunderous voice of the man behind the bar caught you off gaurd, a quiet gasp escaping your throat. Cursing yourself for forgetting your manners you forced a nervous smile to your lips. "Hello" you greet, you waited a few moments for him to continue conversation. But it seemed his initial greeting was an act of manners and not interest in you or your business. Which was fair, you'd say with your dishevelled hair and clothes you wouldn't want to spark conversation with you either.

After a few painfully awkward moments you cracked and found yourself wandering towards the rather grimy looking chairs. Your arms still ached from unpacking all the shipments of soil a couple days ago, and you swore you did something to your back. With your lates injury as well you really began to wish this town had a proper doctor.

Taking a seat closest to the cell, it was the cleanest one, you wait patiently for the sherrif. As patiently as you could for a woman who's had the worst two days of her life. Feeling lingering eyes on yourself you turn your attention back to the man in the cell. "Is it usually so empty around here?" You humm, biting back the more foul words that came to mind when describing the place.

From sat in the corner he visibly perked up a bit, letting out a slight hum. "Its never empty" he stated matter of factly. Playing with what looked to be beef jerky in his hands. The man piqued your interest to say the least. Everyone in this town seemed like they had an opinion, or something to say. But he didn't, he spoke when spoken too. Admittedly it was a nice break.

Your interest however didn't make the statement any less startling. You guessed the town must be filled with ruffians if the Jailhouse never empty. As much as you'd rather be banging on the walls for some sort of attention you didn't want to get into a fit with the Sherrif already. So you bit your tongue, and you waited.

"I don't believe I ever caught your name, sir?" You lead on, figuring you might be here for a while it might do you some good to make friends. Or at least a friend.

The man shifts on the barrel he was sitting on, turning his attention close to you as a slight rumble escaped his throat. The man had a strange aura, like the feeling you get when told scary stories, what was it called again..?

"Crops"

Oh right, creepy. That's the word to describe everything about this man. From his steely blue eyes and unnaturally sharp incisors, even the name was eerily unfitting.

Crops.

Like the cannibal you had been told ghost stories about. The man rumored to be let out of the jail to deal with certain citizens. The man that supposedly cleared this town. You thought it was a joke at first. But now you were talking to him, goose bumps ran up your skin as he inched closer to you.

"And yours, Mrs?"

"Y/N, it's nice to meet you Crops" you know better then to anger a man who could easily have your life in his hands in a day or two. So swallowing your fear, and blinking away the premature tears in your eyes you gave him a friendly smile.

"How'd you get hurt?" He inquired his eyes seeming fixated on yours. How did he... how did he know? Your confusion must have been clear on your face as he spoke up. "You smell of blood".

Oh god he could smell your blood, nervously you finally tore your eyes from his, choosing instead to stare at the floor boards under foot. Counting the grains in a pathetic attempt to calm your nerves. "I uh, I was mugged the other day. I got stabbed in the process" you explain as vaguely as possible. Seeing as the man was in the same room the Sherrif would be speaking to you in it's easy to assume he would soon get all the details. But for now he didn't need to know everything . He didn't need to know anything about you.

Slowly he nodded, it didn't seem like new news for him and thata what startled you the most. "It's best to stay out of their way" he spoke nonchalantly. Like they were just some immature drivers or some drunkards. Like this was normal. "Everyone's been saying that but it's a bit harder when they come to your front door" you sigh. The people here were friendly, strange but mostly friendly. However they seemed to hold either cowardice or were extremely condescending. You hoped it was because you were new to town, not that you were a woman.

The man- er, Crops however seemed to lack these qualities. Any qualities really, he spoke like he was simply pointing something out, or repeating information told to him. Everything about him was so alien and unnerving. The way he seemed so fixated on your abdomen, the way the occasional growl erupted from his throat when something seemed to upset him. You were beginning to sound like a broken record at this point.

"I think you need to redo your stitches" He observed, gesturing loosely to yourself. With furrowed brows you glanced down, the tiniest droplets of red beginning to seep through your new dress. Had you been so frightened by the man you hadn't realized you had popped a stitch? Your grip on the hem of your skirt tightened as you noticed Crops stepping ever closer to you, pressing against the bars.

Before either of you could say anything you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Turning you felt relief run over your mind as you spotted the sheriff. However that relief was quickly snuffed out as you got a better look at the man.

He was drunk.

Not tipsy, not hungover, drunk. By the looks of it plastered as well. You practically felt your face drop.

"Could I help you miss? You know I'm not the physician, correct?" The taller spoke in a way that indicated tiredness. He slurred his words and rolled his r's in a peculiar way that seemed native to this town. Everything about both the man and the town was peculiar, guess it would be a shocker to see him anywhere outside of this shit hole.

His clothes were even more so disheveled then yours, his hat seated crooked on his strawberry blonde locks and stubble grew in patches lining his chin. Even a cigar hung from his lips to complete the ensemble.

"No, I know, I'm here to report a crime? Not to see the doctor" you reason getting to tour feet to greet the man, though he merely rolled his eyes at your extended hand. "Report a crime you say? What happened Hun?" He slurred. Nervously glancing back at Crops, who now seemed much more interest in his nails, you lowered your voice as you spoke. "Should we be talking in front of a prisoner-".

The sheriff's almost mocking laughter rang out around the room, catching you a but off guard. "Oh Crops? Anything you can tell me you can tell Crops, he knows everything about everyone in this town, dont you?" Thompson assured. But no confirmation came from the black haired man stood behind the decrepit looking bars. "Not much of a talker" Thompson dismissed with a wave of his hand.

Passing a glance Crops' way you couldn't help but hum along. He seemed pretty talkative with you? Maybe that wasn't the right word, but he would at least acknowledge your existence. To be fair, if you had to be with Thompson for more then an hour you'd probably be just about the same way.

"Now sugar, tell me what happened ".

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x y/n #dsmp #dsmp imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt imagine #crops tftsmp #crops x reader #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse x fem reader #corpse husband x reader #tftsmp #tales from the smp

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potteresque-ire · 3 years

Note

hello, ily metas! thank you for taking the time for them. i hope you dont mind an ask with two follow up questions to your metas i'm curious about: 1) has mxtx rly been sentenced? i have seen others also share this news but other fans have quickly dismissed and gotten pissed at these reports for being fake news that are bad for mxtx, and as fearmongering. 2) for those who want to support yizhan but not the ccp, do you have advice how to navigate fan support and interaction with their media?

Hello! I apologise for the late reply! You’ve brought up some interesting points, so please forgive me for responding with an essay.

First, about MXTX — This is a follow-up to this post.

Unfortunately, this is all we got—all everyone has got about MXTX’s current situation: on 2020/11/10, she was sentenced in Hangzhou Shang Cheng District’s People’s Court (杭州市上城區人民法院). No details were given on her verdict, due to “人民法院認為不宜在互聯網公布的其它情形” (“The People’s Court decided it inappropriate to announce further details on the internet”). Here’s a link with the screenshot that showed all the information released about the case that day.

There are enough copies of similar screenshots to this one online, with the differences dependent on where the publisher pulled the information from the same website: 中國裁判文書網, an online archive of verdicts run by China Supreme People’s Court. There’re few reasons, therefore, to believe the information on the screenshot was fake. The link I used was Sina’s Financial News, which I believe is trustworthy enough for China’s standard.

It is also important to note, of course, that two scenarios may still render this screenshot irrelevant. 1) The verdict, which was not mentioned in the screenshot, was “not guilty” and 2) the name listed in the case, 袁依楣, was not MXTX at all.

Few have seemed to suspect 2) to be a possibility. Her real name might have been prior knowledge among some fans, or the combination of her surname and city of residence. 1) has been the where the concern / debate is.

I included China’s rate of conviction in the original post for this reason: acquittal is exceedingly rare (<0.1%) for the arrested in China. This short article discussed some reasons.

So, is it possible that MXTX is now a free woman? Yes. Is it likely? Not at all.

Still, since the probability that MXTX is imprisoned isn’t 100%, is spreading this news smearing her name? Fear-mongering?

I can only answer for myself, Anon, but my answer is no for both questions, which is why I’ve felt comfortable posting about her case. MXTX’s alleged “crimes” are things we already knew she did, or common practices among Chinese IP writers. We know she penned MDZS and other BL works; we know MDZS, in particular, has an 18+ element. She was said to have sold merch based on her works, but that wasn’t unusual at all for writers in Jinjiang, where she published her writing. Even those who don’t like her have seemed to agree that it was her writing that got her into trouble, not some other crimes she could’ve committed.

IMO, a guilty verdict doesn’t tell us as much about her as it does about the judicial system, the business practices of her country. It’s worth re-mentioning that media giants such as Tencent are closely tied to the government; Tencent’s WeChat, for example, is part of China’s Great Firewall and is used for surveillance, for censorship and removal of political dissidents. What MXTX’s case hints at is this: the government has (very likely) convicted her, while its close allies are continuing to use her works—works that got her into legal trouble in the first place—to make money. Some fans of MXTX have questioned if the courts have censored the details of the case to save the embarrassment of the rich and powerful, calling what has happened to MXTX 人血饅頭 (“human blood steamed buns”), an idiom used to describe the act of profiting out of someone elses’ life.

As for fear-mongering, here are my thoughts ~ it would’ve been fear-mongering if the public has access to the facts, and not years after they happen. Specifically, it would’ve been fear-mongering to leak the rumours of MXTX’s sentencing, when the judicial system is transparent and the case details will soon be published for all to see. Why? Because “fear” comes from the unknown, and “-monger” is the unnecessary promotion, stirring-up of this fear.

To promote, stir up anything, one needs a reference level. The reference level in this scenario is this: what is the level of fear if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? Of course, this knowledge doesn’t make MXTX’s experience any easier or more just; it doesn’t cause her less fear. However, she isn’t the target audience of this likely-to-be-true rumour. The target audience is the public and in particular, those who consume and/or generate BL material online.

What is the level of fear among this population if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? It’s the (relative) comfort in knowing the government’s stance on what they do: how the administration feels about BL, 18+ BL, and their distribution methods. The comfort comes from having the right information to decide how to act accordingly. For example, if I’m a BL writer based in China and I know the court has found MXTX guilty of bypassing publishing houses but not of writing M/M romance, then I’ll know to not produce paper versions of my writing, but I can keep writing.

This reference level of fear is unavailable here, however, since the government has decided to withhold all details about the case. Without this reference level, fear-mongering becomes a ... difficult to define concept.

Are these likely-to-be-true rumours agents of fear, or are they hints on how to survive in a country that lacks transparency?

Continuing with the example of I being a Chinese BL writer, since I cannot expect to hear more facts about MXTX, this rumour is all I’ve got in choosing what to do with my hobby, in deciding whether it is safe to continue. As I’m aware that a rumour isn’t a fact, I first research on the rumour’s likelihood of truth (similar to what I’ve done for MXTX’s case), and cross my fingers that I don’t get it wrong.

By doing so, I’m turning these rumours into my survival guide.

Is it risky? Yes. Is it exhausting? Absolutely. But this is the way of life for people who live under secretive, authoritarian governments—the authoritarian element making it impossible to demand more facts. It may take people outside such regimes some time to get used to—to the lifestyle, and to the idea that, in a place where news is often synonymous with propaganda, rumours are breadcrumbs of truth that should be sieved through with equal care as one would sieve through the news. Heeding, considering the probable truth of what the authority has deemed to be fear-mongering rumours can be a matter of literal life and death.

Take...COVID. (I apologize for bringing up this unpleasant topic!)

I shall link to an article about the early spread of COVID in Wuhan here and ask: were Dr. Li Wenliang and the seven other doctors fear-mongering? Wuhanese chose to believe in the government, but at what cost to them? What would the world be like today if they took the early COVID rumours as true and masked up like Hong Kongers—Hong Kongers who weren’t any smarter or better, but had simply learned their painful lessons from the 2003 SARS epidemic?

(Why hadn’t the Wuhanese learned? Because the government has long changed the narrative of SARS, taught their people that the illness originated in Hong Kong.)

(How can one learn from past mistakes if one pretends those mistakes never existed?)

You must be wondering, Anon, why I’m talking about COVID when your next question is about YiZhan. The death of Dr Li Wenliang on February 7th, 2020, sparked a demand for freedom of speech rarely seen in internet-age China. Its fury, its ferocity forced the government to change its stance on Dr Li, again an unusual move. Since January 2020, Weibo had been censoring COVID news and opinion pieces that shedded a negative light to the central government; after the death of Dr Li, the censorship apparatus stepped up, making way for the propaganda machine to kick in later and change the narrative of the pandemic.

Here are some questions without definite answers, but may be food for thought for YiZhan fans:

1) While the Chinese government’s censorship apparatus (including Weibo) might have silenced the voices of dissent, of mourning on the surface, was it more likely to pacify, or fuel the anger of netizens, many of whom had lost loved ones, many of whom were still under quarantine?

2) Less than three weeks after the death of Dr Li, a group of fans demanded even *more* censorship from the government—the closing of an internet website that had been seen as a relatively free space to express oneself. How would these netizens react, even though they knew little about these fans or their idol?

(It was, in the context of the massive silencing of COVID discussions in China, that I learned about the ban of AO3. There had been rumours that the government would censor more websites on 2020/03/01. When I read about AO3′s ban on 2/27, my thoughts were 1) Hmm. This came two days early. 2) AO3? Really?)

(I wouldn’t watch The Untamed or know who Gg was until several months later.)

Now, Anon, this is a good time to get to your CCP (Chinese Communist Party) question.

The very short answer is no. There’s no way to support YiZhan without, to a certain level, supporting the CCP. As mentioned above, the media companies are all part of China’s surveillance system. Weibo is where freedom of speech is curbed. Our two boys have been part of the propaganda machine; the BBC article linked above had a tiny picture of Gg on it, as he was a performer in the Hero in Harm’s Way (最美逆行者), a “real-life based” drama on COVID. DD just did a show glorying the Chinese police force (and here’s a video of the same force welding doors to lock in COVID-stricken residents).

Nonetheless, here’s my first advice: please do not beat yourself up for supporting YiZhan!

Gg and Dd are people who live within the system, inside the Great Firewall. They understand the world the way their government has taught them to—not only in school, but also in the news and media. Like most youths in every country, they’re patriotic—and to expect them to be otherwise, especially because of information they don’t have, is both unrealistic and unfair. Even if they do know about certain things impermissible within the Firewall, in China (as in many Communists countries), openly expressing / performing one’s proper political leanings (ie. loyalty towards CCP) is among the most important pre-requisites for any job. This has been especially true for c-ent in recent years .

They, like most of their countrymen, are doing what they have to do.

In this case, it comes to us, our decisions on how to interact with their works. How should we deal with them, their propaganda elements?

The answer, of course, varies from person to person. Personally, I’ve chosen the approaches of “immunisation” and “restriction”. By “immunisation”, I mean learning about as much historical and sociopolitical facts from non-CCP sponsored sources; this is understandably difficult for someone who doesn’t already have some familiarity with the culture and politics of the region, and/or cannot read the language.

Restriction means limiting my consumption of media produced by China. I avoid shows (dramas, documentaries, variety etc) featuring topics that are likely to contain heavy propaganda, such as the military, the police, Hong Kong/Macao/Taiwan, and of course, anything pertaining to the CCP, from its rise to its governance of the country.

In general, I’m wary of all information presented about the post-monarchy years (post 1911), even though CCP wouldn’t begin its reign until after WWII (1949). Why so early? 1) Because CCP was formed in 1921 and so its glorification requires a change of narrative since then; 2) because the Nationalist Party (Kuomintang, KMT), which governed China between 1912 and 1949 (the so-called Republican Era 民國), would end up exiling to and setting up a new government in Taiwan.

How much propaganda should one expect in shows depicting the country post-1911? The current TV and webdrama directives (previously discussed in this post) offer some hints. Here are my translations of the relevant items:

D7) Dramas about the Republican era: Glorification of the Republican Era, the Beiyang Government, and Warlord Era requires strict control.

D10) Crime drama: crime drama is the focus of content auditing. The Ministry of Public Security (Pie note: in charge of law enforcement, ie, police) will be involved in the audit. The process of crime solving cannot be exposed; criminal psychology and motivations can however be depicted in detail. Undercover police cannot use drugs or kill, or damage the image of the police force. Criminals must be punished by law.

D12) Dramas featuring realistic topics: realistic topics must adhere to the correct world view, philosophy of life and moral values. They cannot place too strong an emphasis on social conflicts, must showcase the beautiful lives of the commoners. Regular folks should display larger-than-life sentiments and aspirations; they can pursue wealth, but must use proper means to do so; they cannot damage the public image of specific employment types, groups and social organisations. Do not preach negative or decadent world view, philosophy of life and moral values. Do not exaggerate, amplify social issues; do not over showcase, display the darker sides of society; do not preach affluence, avoid things that have no basis in real life.

D16) Dramas featuring the Revolution (Pie note: CCP’s coming to power): 2019 is the publicity period of the 70th Anniversary of the People’s Republic of China. Although the “Three Importances” (important revolution, important people, important events) are still encouraged, the National Radio and Television Administration requires all departments, at all levels, to strengthen the control of content and the overall management of the industry, and focus on the auditing of content pertaining to the Sino-Japanese war and espionage dramas.

These directives (as those translated in the other post) are as vague as they are restrictive, and to err on the side of caution, production companies tend to “overachieve” to avoid going against headwinds at the censorship board. This means their products have a tendency to malign the Republican Era (D7). It means they will likely twist history in trying to depict the CCP as faultless heroes (D16). It means they'll probably present a utopian-like society and call it reality-based (D12), a society in which the good guys share the same values as the CCP and always win (D10).

Yes, my “restriction” means I skipped Hero in Harm’s Way. It means I’ve never listened to Gg’s version of 我和我的祖國 despite my absolute adoration of his voice. It means I just missed Dd’s performance in the law enforcement celebration event. It means I don’t plan on watching Being A Hero and Ace Troops.

So here’s where I’ve drawn the line, Anon, but it doesn’t mean that’s what anyone should do. Only you alone can decide where your own comfort zone is. I write these metas in the hopes that it can offer a … gateway for those who’d like to understand, with a more telescopic lens, Gg and Dd’s country—a country that holds a particularly strong hold over its citizens’ fate including, yes, their romantic fate. It’s not my wish to impose my opinions on anyone.

If I have other hopes… It’s this. Please, as long as it’s safe for you to talk, do not self-censor—especially about facts, especially on sites like Tumblr or Twitter that have long been banned by the Chinese government. I don’t mean one should go about and confront those who insist on a different version of reality. To undo opinions rooted in years of education, IMO, the process has to be voluntary, and the information is already at the fingertips of those who’re surfing these sites and wish to learn more. More importantly, open discussions of these topics may be risky for those who still have close ties to China, and keeping them safe should always be the top priority.

What I mean is simply this ~ please do not feel obliged to agree with every perspective presented in YiZhan’s work just because you support the leads. Please do not feel you must remain silent about the CCP—its good, bad and ugly—just because your favourite stars happen to come from the country it’s ruling. And please remember: “Chinese”, as a term, has always included people who live outside CCP’s control, many of whom still fully embrace the culture, traditions and values of Historical China, a 5000-years long string of dynasties with shifting borders, ethnic makeup and customs. The Untamed is a mainland Chinese production, yes, but its genre, its manner of presenting certain traditions, wouldn’t have been developed, or flourished, without the diaspora. The CCP has only been the ruling party of one country, the People’s Republic of China, for 71 years, and as a party with foreign (soviet) roots and a record of destroying the pillar of the country’s tradition, Confucianism, it doesn’t own a monopolistic say on how every Chinese should think and act—no matter how much it insists it does—or how everyone should think and speak about China and its people.

It isn’t qualified.

#Anonymous #pie metas #pie answers #BJYX #yizhan

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tempobaekh · 3 years

Text

Rating Penthouse: War In Life characters

I asked my followers on Instagram to give me Penthouse characters to rate and my thoughts about them so I thought to post it here as well. Now this is my personal opinion about how I feel about the characters and how much I will rate them

⚠️⚠️THIS CONTAINS A FEW SPOILERS⚠️⚠️

My Instagram: Tempobaek

Logan Lee

10/10

Lemme just say I love him SO MUCH

LOGAN LEE BEST BOY

I absolutely loved his character and the fact that he was one of the few people who wants justice and is honest made me love him even more

Him playing Go Hu Dong was amazing as well and I didn't recognize him at all at first like he played it so well with the accent, costume and wig and everything

His accent and language switch in between English and the Busan accent Korean was so fucking sexy🥵

✨Mr. Joo✨

My man was also smart with his revenge

He was also serving amazing LOOKS every episode in the two seasons and I loved every single one of them

And I'm going to be honest here, after watching the preview for S2 ep13 his laugh was creepy in one of the clips and after reading a few theories I lowkey thought that he would be the next villian

I regret suspecting him now

But instead of that they gave us a bigger plot twist and blew up our man with a bomb😩

He literally went ✨LiGhT iT Up LiKe DyNaMiTe✨ (I'm so sorry)

I would've rather have him be a villian than die in the bomb

I MISS HIM ALREADY AND LOVE HIM SO MUCH😭

DID I MENTION THAT I LOVE HIM

Joo Seok Kyung

7/10

Another one that annoyed me angered me so much🙄

Like she was ruthless and had no mercy when it came to bullying and putting people down that she thought were a rival or putting people down in general

She didn't change even when Rona died

She also went as far as to like cheat her way to win the Cheong Ah Art High School trophy and blackmailed Cheon Seojin to win the trophy

But there were times where she would show emotions and those would be often her break down and weak moments

And those moments would really show how she is broken inside and puts up a careless and brave image, she is someone who needs healing even though healing takes time

I also saw someone saying like 'oh Seok Kyung hates her mom so much'

Yeah she hated her mom but she didn't hate her to death like she didn't wish death upon her

Seok Kyung was heart broken when she heard Suryeon's death and that showed that she still loved her mom even though Suryeon didn't give birth to them

I was heart broken when I saw that she cut her hair because here was no one there to tie it for her bc Suryeon loved Seok Kyungs long hair and that's why she didn't cut it but after he mothers death no one was there to tie her hair for her

I started seeing her in a different light after a while bc again it showed that he character was very broken emotionally and needed healing

I'm interested about seeing more of her character development after the last ep where she defended Rona

Also my girl is so hot, another one that was serving amazing looks

Joo Seok Hoon

8/10

He was lowkey annoying at first ngl

Like my man was just🧍🏻‍♂️

It annoyed me so much how he defended his sister so much, fell for her tricks, covered up for her and did anything she said EVEN though its wrong

But after some time I understood that he cared for and that she was the only family left to him

I mean Seok Hoon hate Joo Dan Tae so he doesn't counts and Suryeon was dead at the moment

I will still not forgive him for bullying Seol A even though he regrets it

It also annoyed me how he didn't stood up for Rona at all in the first season even though he liked her

By he got so much better in S2, he was even part in the revenge plan

He is literally the human CCTV camera in Hera Palace like he knows more than even the viewers know

The way he was protective of Rona when he found out she was alive was so aDORABLE

And my man was amazing in the last episodes

I love him

Cheon Seo Jin

4/10

THIS WOMAN MAKES MY BLOOD FUCKING BOIL

Like I sometimes just was to 🤜🏻👩🏻

But sometimes I wanna hug her😩

Idk I feel like she became a horrible person bc of greed and that he father and mother placed too high expectations for her

Instead of praising her for her accomplishments her parents wanted her to do more

Maybe that's why she was desperate for love and affection and found that in Joo Dan Tae even though he pretended to like her

But that definitely does not dismiss her horrible actions

But also the harsh past made her the could hearted person, like she left her father to die

She felt more care towards her daughter after she almost lost her because Eunbyeol tried to commit suicide

She was in alot of pain and you could see it in her cries and when she was on the phone with the person

Soyeon's acting was amazing in that scene

She started to care more about her ex husband and daughter when she saw how much Eunbyeol was suffering and she realized that she genuinely liked Ha Yoon Chul hwen she saw how horrible Joo Dan Tae was

I did feel bad for her sometimes but after seeing that she didn't change I really didn't feel any sympathy for her

She needs therapy

Girlie was shocked when the doctor said she is losing her voice like bestie you are screaming every episode

She was also serving amazing looks every episode

Ha Yoon Chul

5/10

The first male character I simped for

Like I am not going to deny it but he is hot🥵

But the first few episodes he was an absolute asshole and greedy

But I never expected him to be Yoonhee's ex boyfriend

I did like him a tiny bit when he saved Yoon Hee from Kyu Jin

His entrance in S2 with the helicopter was damn hot

And I WAS SO SHOCKED WHEN HE SAID MEET MY WIFE OH YOON HE

LIKE YAY MY SHIP IS SAILING

I spoke too soon

His character development and fighting skills were hot as well

He was ADORABLE with Rona and Yoonhee

I seriously thought that Rona was his daughter

BUT THAN AT THE CHEONG AH FESTIVLE OOF SIR I WANTED TO PUNCH HIM

I WAS SO MAD WHEN HE SABOTAGED RONA'S PERFORMANCE

I began hating him after that💀

Like he went 📈📉 with his character development

AND THEN HE CLEANED EUNBYEOL'S MEMORY FROM THAT NIGHT LIKE SIR SKSHSKSHKS SHE DID HAT TO YOUR DAUGHTER

I actually asked my dad what he thought about what Yoon Chul did and this was his reponse:

"If you look at it from a parents perspective they would want to do anything if they saw their child in pain like he did but I would've also scolded her and had a conversation with her about why she did it instead of wiping her memory from that night like he did. "

So that's that

I LOVED IT WHEN YOON HEE CAME WITH THAT BLOW AND TOLD HIM RONA WAS HER DAUGHTER

Jonghoon's acting was chef's kiss in that scene

I was going to rate him a 4 but I gave him that 5 when I saw how he was at court, he admitted to his wrong doings but also still had feelings for Yoon Hee

I wanna see his reaction in s3 to Rona now bc now that he got to know that is his daughter I wonder how he will be

Lee Kyu Jin

1/10

AN ASSHOLE

USELESS

WHY IS HE HERE

Like I have nothing to say about him rather than I hate him and that he useless just like his wife and son

HE IS LITERALLY NOTHING WITHOUT HIS MOM

I'm only giving him that one bc he was funny in the episodes

THATS THE ONLY REASON HE IS THERE JUST FOR COMEDY PURPOSES

Go Sang Ah

0.5/10

ANNOYING 2.0

USELESS 2.0

ALL SHE DOES IS SPEND HER HUSBAND AND MOTHER IN LAW'S MONEY

LIKE SHE AIN'T EVEN WORKS

UNLIKE KANG MARI

The only thing she does is gossip

And spills the tea☕

SHE IS LITERALLY NOTHING WITHPUT HER HUSBAND AND HIS FAMILY

Giving her a 0.5 bc she is kinda funny eh

Lee Minhyuk

0/10

ANNOYING 3.0

USELESS 3.0

ASSHOLE 2.0

Idk if it runs in the family but again he is useless

And a dumbass

He also nothing without his parents

Why is he there tho like you ain't even funny

All he can do is cause trouble

And bullied Jenny

His dumbass slipped and broke his own arm and blamed it on Rona smh🤦🏻‍♀️

Sometimes I just wanna 🤜🏻👦🏻

Also my dude was trying to sound all intimidating by saying

"Oh Jenny's father is a scary man, yOuR dEaD BaE rOnA"

Like dude worry about yourself bitch you are dead first for bullying Jenny

But like I hate the character but LOVE THE ACTOR HE IS SO HOT OMFG

Joo Dan Tae

0/10

ANOTHER ONE THAT PISSES ME OFF SO MUCH AND MAKES MY BLOOD BOIL

SOMETIMES I DONT WANNA 🤜🏻 I WANNA 🔪

LIKE I HATE HIM WITH A FUCKING PASSION

I DONT CARE ABOUT HIS PAST OR ANYTHING HE IS A GREASY, GREEDY, PSYCHO, OBSESSIVE MANIPULATIVE, POSSESSIVE PSYCHO

Like I legit thought he was nice in he first ep and then I saw him kiss Seojin and-

Me: 🤨😧😃🤮 MY EMOTIONS WENT LIKE THAT

LIKE HE IS SO FUCKING POSSESSIVE OVER SURYEON, AEGYO AND SEOJIN LIKE ITS DISGUSTING

I WAS GETTING YANDERE BEHAVIOUR FROM THAT OLD MAN

PURE TRASH

Bae Rona

9/10

I LOVE HER NOW

RONA BEST GIRL

She was also annoying at first and was very ungrateful

But over time she got better, still a tiny bit annoying sometimes but better

When she came back from the US I WAS LIKE GIRL NO YOU FINNA RUIN THE PLAN

I do feel bad for her bc she went through alot with bullying, her mom going to jail not only once but twice, her getting to know that Yoonchul who she started liking sabotaged her performance, and also literally almost dying

My girl has been through a lot

AND WHEN SHE RUNNED TOWARDS THE STAIRS OUTSIDE WHEN EUNBYEOL WAS CHASING HER I WAS LIKE GIRL RUN TO THE HALL YOU RUNNIN OUTSIDE

I am excited to see her reaction to getting to know that Yoon Chul is her dad

Part 2 is also posted!

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yongtxt · 4 years

Text

hundred [johnny]

word count: 4.5k words

characters: boxer!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: blood/wound/stitches mentions, johnny hates hospitals but he likes the pretty doctor, [im not a doctor nor a boxer pls dont say that i have info wrong because I Know]

author’s note: i know this isnt long to some of u but to me it is and i havent written this much for so long im so proud of myself for finishing this:( it isnt that good but this is the first long fic ive written in a while and shhsdjk also i needed to get this out of my system ive thought about this au since that jcc came out where johnny and hyuck was doing muay thai plssss (i couldnt find a better gif tho) ok this is getting too long / feedback is appreciated tysm

Johnny Suh hated hospitals with a burning passion.

It wasn't from a past trauma nor was he afraid of it, it wasn't that serious. He wasn't exactly sure what the cause of it really was. If he had to make a guess, it was probably from the accumulation of the little things, the insignificant factors people would usually dismiss but bothered him enough that it contributed to the big hatred he built for hospitals.

Maybe it was the distinct smell of hospitals, it reeked of death and old people. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the fluorescent-lit hallways, always gloomy and heavy. Maybe it was also the fact that the fees were so expensive and yet the food they provide tasted horrible, even the coffee was a hit or miss. The only upside he could think of was people get better in hospitals, but even that wasn't assured.

Despite how much Johnny despised hospitals, he always finds himself coming back. If he wanted to get better, he had no choice but to go. He would endure the gruesome process over and over again whether it be to treat his wounds or to stitch his cuts.

With his jaw littered with small bruises and his lips busted at the corner, he sat impatiently on the hospital bed as he waited for his doctor. He was fiddling with his fingers, knuckles bruised the same way his face was. He looked beaten up, he always did.

The clothes he wore contradicted the state he was in, they were fresh and laid back. He looked like a college student from the way he dressed. A delinquent more like, if one considered his cuts and bruises. Before heading to the hospital, he always makes it a point to shower and make himself appear presentable to the public. Although no one really bothers to take notice of his effort, only him.

The sliding door opened and Johnny's attention shot up from his phone, his gaze meeting with yours. Your head popped in, peaking through the small crack you made. Your eyes lit up in recognition as it always did whenever you see him.

"Youngho-ssi?" You spoke almost as if it was a question, voice barely above a whisper to make sure you were in the correct room, about to tend the correct patient.

Johnny didn't understand why you always did that, call out his name as if this was the first time you were seeing him. At that point, you've been already acquainted with him enough due to his numerous trips to the hospital. Either way, he nods every time.

You gave him a small smile, widening the door enough so you could enter. You wore a white lab coat, a name tag pinned to your chest and a stethoscope hung around your neck. You were small, although anyone compared to him was bound to be comparatively smaller – that wasn't the point, you looked young and that never fails to astound him every time you go through the door.

You had a clipboard in your hands, scanning through what he assumed to be his condition that a nurse had written earlier after a quick checkup and disinfection of his open wound. Your lips were formed on a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. He continued to stare at you with such amusement.

"You don't have to answer my question, Youngho-ssi, but why are you always here?" You finally broke the silence, startling him in the slightest. You never bothered to ask before, always just offering smiles and small talks while you did your work; maybe his sudden regularity of coming to the hospital recently made your curiosity peaked.

He couldn't blame you. Anybody would be curious why a 24-year-old man keeps coming back to the hospital with no clear explanation.

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, he never liked saying his job. He said, "I box for a living."

"Ah, that makes sense!" Your eyes visibly glimmered, absentmindedly jotting down notes on his medical records. "My coworkers and I thought you were in a gang or something."

"I don't think I would be allowed to be here if I was." He chuckled, making you giggle as well.

"Seo Youngho, 24, minor lip laceration in need of immediate suture." You read of his data from the clipboard, almost comically. It was medical terms he was unfortunately already too familiar with, to him, it basically meant that he had a busted lip that needs to be sewed shut.

"You can just call me Johnny. Youngho sounds too formal to me." He said nonchalantly. You nodded your head to his simple request; it probably was best if you got to know him better since he frequented the hospital so much.

"Alright, Johnny. We'll start the process now, okay?"

With keen eyes, he watched you slip on a pair of surgical gloves. You grabbed a tissue from the metal tray that sat beside him and began folding it into squares. He felt his heartbeat quicken, he hated getting stitches or any form of medical treatments for that matter, but as morbid as it was, he thought of it as punishment for his recklessness in the ring.

"Isn't boxing just, I don't know, senseless violence?" You asked, tone dripping with pure innocence and unadulterated interest as you gently dabbed away the remaining dried blood the nurse failed to clean earlier.

"It's a sport, it's how I bring money to the table." He pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that surged through his nerves. He visibly relaxed when you placed a hand onto his shoulder to reassure him.

Ever since the first time you got assigned to him, the first thing he took note of was the softness of your hands. You handled him as if he was fragile glass, despite how he easily towered over you. He felt pathetic as a 24-year-old but your gentle touches would greatly help put him at ease.

"I guess. I didn't mean to be rude." You were hesitant, Johnny could tell but he was glad you didn't push on any further. He couldn't handle explaining his occupation when you were about to pierce his skin. "Okay, Johnny, now that your lip is clean and the anesthesia had seeped in, we'll start. I think you know how it goes by now."

"Make it quick, please." He nodded, squinting his eyes shut at the mere contact of a surgical pen grazing over his gaped lips. You were relieved that his cut wasn't too big, you couldn't stomach the idea of putting him in too much pain for longer.

As you picked up the tweezers and string of nylon, you couldn't help but laugh at the six-foot boxer in front of you who was clearly petrified of getting stitches, "This will be done as soon as you know it. You won't really feel it because of the anesthesia, remember? Now count to a hundred backward for me."

Once the numb feeling of nylon dragged through his lips, he swore he saw white spots flicker in his vision. His eyes immediately watered and he tried his best not to squirm under your hold, beginning to count to a hundred backward like you had instructed him to. You admitted it to him the first time you stitched him that it was a trick that you learned from your pediatrician friend. Despite it being for children, it helped to get him distracted while you focused on your job.

Minutes felt like hours, Johnny had been fighting the urge to punch something, anything, to release tension and nerves. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a peak and tried to take his attention away from what was currently happening on his lip. His gaze landed on your pretty eyes, how it was narrowed in focus and how your lashes perfectly framed it.

This wasn't the first time he'd observe you up close, there had been many occasions in the past that you had been too close for comfort in order to tend his wounds. It had been too many that it was almost as if he was close to memorizing your features. You were not only beautiful but you were also a smart and capable doctor.

Eventually, you finished and started to rub ointment on his sore lip — the finishing line.

"Try not to eat anything spicy or hard. You know the drill." You grinned at his suddenly pale features, ripping off your gloves as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room. "You're good to go. Be careful next time."

He let out a shaky breath, clearly still winded up from the procedure, "I'll try. Thanks again, doc."

The punching bag felt great against Johnny's fists. There wasn't a feeling in the world that could compare to the impact of leather slamming against his skin. He could last hours mindlessly pummeling the bag if his stamina just allowed him to.

Hyunsik, Johnny's manager and personal trainer, drew away from the punching bag he held in between his arms. He let out a breath and held out a hand to motion that Johnny has done enough.

Johnny was hurting, Hyunsik could see that much. The bandages he had wrapped for the boxer's fingers were turning into a shade of red that they were all too familiar with.

Hyunsik clicked his tongue, "You should've used your gloves."

"How can I grow stronger if I keep relying on them?" Johnny rolled his eyes. His muscles needed a boost and this seemed to be the only logical way to strengthen them — a little blood never hurt anybody.

"Someday you're gonna fracture your hand and you'll be forced out of the ring. Remember that." Hyunsik huffed, his voice stern. "Take them off, I'll clean the blood off."

Johnny reluctantly did as told, unfurling the bandages wrapped around his fingers. The pain was excruciating when the fabric grazed along his tender skin, he winced at the unsightly view of his reopened wounds.

Hyunsik led him back outside of the ring to the benches where the first aid kit was. He made the boxer sit down so he could start cleaning off his wounds. It looked horrific, more so than it usually did and he had no choice but to break the news to Johnny.

"It looks really bad. You need to go get that checked in the hospital and have it sewed back." Hyunsik said, taking a wet towel and carefully dabbing it across Johnny's bloodied knuckles.

He didn't want to go to the hospital. Going to the hospital to have his wounds treated meant that Johnny would be medically required to take days off work to let his hand heal. Johnny frowned, "Don't you have an ointment or something that could help? I can't afford to lose a day of practice."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hyunsik rolled his eyes. "As your manager, I want you to be in top shape for your match next week, even if it means sacrificing a day or two for you to heal."

Johnny could only nod. He sat through Hyunsik's lecture on the changes he should make to his dietary plan and the exercises he should do during his temporary break. It infuriated him that he couldn't do anything about it but nod along.

The incoming match that was set next week would make or break his career as an underground boxer. He didn't have the option of missing it because of some measly reopened wounds. If he had to rest to get better, he had no choice but to suck it up. This was his fault anyway for pushing himself too much.

Johnny showered in the locker rooms and changed into nicer clothes that didn't reek of blood and sweat. His hands were stinging but he shook it off.

He ignored the concerned looks other boxers were giving him and begrudgingly made his way to the hospital to get himself checked in. You wouldn't be happy to see him all bloodied again, he thought.

Much to Johnny's surprise, it wasn't you who was assigned to him. It was a much older doctor with graying hair and a nose stuck too far up in the air. She was rude and condescending, her lack of politeness to her patients was quite appalling. If Johnny wasn't in such a bad mood, he might've complained already.

God, this day couldn't get any worse.

With a meek voice, Johnny asked where you were and at the mention of your name, his doctor gave him a narrowed look. She sneered, "She's handling much more important cases. Does she know you?"

"I think so." Johnny gulped, unsure of the answer himself.

The doctor's grip was tight and she was hasty. It was as if she was trying to speed through the process to just get it over with. Johnny wanted to cry because he was starting to get traumatized by this doctor's procedure, he didn't want to hate the hospital more than he already did.

He internally screamed for your name as he watched the doctor pull on the gloves. The sliding door harshly whipped open and there you were in all your glory, like an angel sent from above to save him from the devil incarnate who was about to pierce his skin.

You were panting and the sheen on your forehead made it obvious that you ran your way to his room. Johnny's heart leaped with glee.

"Unnie, I'll handle him." You said, unable to catch your breath as you made your way inside. "I think the ER needs you more than me."

The doctor seemed hesitant at first but you tried to convince her otherwise. She eventually agreed and left you with Johnny who had a cheesy smile on his face the entire time since you've arrived.

"So Johnny, what happened this time?" You asked, picking up the clipboard that sat next to him on the bed.

"I overdid the punching during training and it reopened some old wounds on my knuckles. It hurts like a bitch."

You pulled a face, "That's a bit intense."

He chuckled, "It's normal."

"Can I please see it?" You opened your palm so he could place his hand on yours. You observed his cuts and the scabs that were beginning to form around it, it was too deep to let it heal on its own so you made the verdict that he needed to get it sewed back together ⁠— as unfortunate as it was since he was a boxer and he needed his hands to box.

You tugged on a new pair of gloves and began the painful procedure, Johnny started counting down even without you instructing him to. You quickly got to work and stitched back his wounds with your lip in between your teeth

Johnny felt squeamish, he could never get used to the feeling of stitches. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled numbers like it was mantra.

Once you were done, you smiled fondly at your work. You managed to get by with fewer stitches and you felt pride swell up in your chest. Johnny noticed and, as lightheaded as he was, couldn't help but smile as well.

"You're pretty good."

"At stitching?"

Johnny nodded with his cheeks flushed, he made a mental reminder to smack himself in the head later for such a crude comment. You probably thought he was an idiot now.

"I sure hope so." You chuckled, making him blush even deeper if that was even possible. "It's part of my job."

Johnny shook his head in embarrassment, his dark hair bouncing from how vigorously he did it. He mumbled, "That sounded really lame and not smooth, I'm sorry. Please forget I opened my mouth."

You could only chuckle as you apply the ointment around his knuckles. He wanted the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.

"Please let this heal completely, Johnny. Don't apply any strain on your injuries for a couple of days and refrain yourself from carrying anything heavy so that the stitches won't rip." You said, carefully placing down his hand back on his knee. You were gentle as ever, Johnny swooned. "Absolutely no punching for a while."

"I have an important match at the end of next week. Is there any way to speed up the healing process?" Johnny asked, his eyes were almost pleading at you and you blinked at him in surprise.

"Apart from what I just said, there's really nothing else you could do." You pursed your lips, watching his expression visibly deflate. "If you want to have even a sliver of a chance at winning your match, I suggest you do as I say. Your stitches won't take too long to heal, I promise."

If Hyunsik was there with him, he would've probably already scolded him but the point would be the same. He had always prioritized Johnny's health above winning.

"Okay, doc. I'll do my best." Johnny said, defeated.

"You know, I always see the aftermath of your matches and your training. I want to see you in the ring next time when you're not bloody and beaten up yet." You smiled at him and you swore that all the color that was previously drained from Johnny's face came rushing back. "If it's okay."

"Are you serious?" Johnny asked, almost dumbfounded. Did the pretty doctor he'd been crushing on for months really just asked if she could watch his match?

You nodded with the same hue of red now tainting your cheeks.

"O-Of course! It's on Saturday next week! Please come and cheer me on!" Like a little kid, he excitedly rambled on about the details about the upcoming match and you nodded with the same enthusiast as you wrapped bandages around his hands.

You weren't from his world so everything he said sounded foreign to you. The terms he said, the infamy of his opponents, the prominence of it all — you were eager to learn it if it meant seeing him this happy.

You've always known that he hated hospitals. It was clear from the way he acted during your first meeting. He was stiff and tense, the body language he exuded just screamed that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. As he visited the hospital more and more, you noticed the hatred never faltered. He only became better at hiding it from you.

To see him so relaxed and carefree within the four walls he hated with all his being, it was a breath of fresh air and the feeling you had in your chest grew stronger.

"You're good to go. I promise to see you in your match." You were jotting some last-minute details on the clipboard and you missed the way Johnny kept grinning like an idiot. "As much as I love seeing you here, I hate that you keep getting yourself injured. Keep out of trouble for me, Johnny."

You left the room without letting Johnny say another word.

Fuck, Johnny realized he hadn't asked for your number.

Johnny's match started in ten minutes. His heart was pounding in his ears, he almost couldn't hear what Hyunsik was shouting to him.

The underground stadium was filled to the brim with people, he felt more nervous than he did during his first boxing match. A lot was at stake for this win, he needed the belt. He was desperate for it.

"Johnny, are you listening to me?" Hyunsik raised his voice, aggressively slapping Johnny's cheeks together in his hands so he could focus on him. The boxer's mind was fleeting and it was his job to pull him back to reality now.

He hadn't seen you since last week and as much as he wanted to go back to the hospital to see you, he refused to badly hurt himself in the days that led up to the match. Johnny scanned the crowd for your face but he couldn't see it. You weren't there.

At the lack of your turnout, he failed to mask his disappointment. Hyunsik let out an aggravated groan and pulled the boxer on his feet to berate him further.

"Johnny, please for the love of all things holy, look me in the eye."

"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I'm listening."

"Good because your match is starting soon and I need you to win this. All your hardships and sacrifices boils down to this match, you hear me?" Hyunsik bellowed, trying his best to keep his voice louder than the cries and chants of the audience. "Show them what Johnny Suh is capable of!"

Johnny nodded fervently, forcing himself into a state of serenity of peacefulness. He let out heavy breaths to even out his breathing as his team surrounded him, prepping him for what was about to come.

Hyunsik raised his hand at Johnny. He had five minutes left until his match started and he wasn't calming down.

"Can I please have some water?" Johnny asked and his medic stumbled on his feet to fetch him a bottle from the nearby cooler. He couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle, his team seemed tenser than he was.

He downed the bottle as soon as it reached his hand. His hand was shaky. Goddammit, why was he so nervous?

At the corner of his eye, he saw Hyunsik making his way over to the barricade that separated his corner to the rest of the stadium. He arched his neck in a way that would let him take a peek what was so important that Hyunsik had to leave his side when the match was starting in a few minutes.

It seemed like Hyunsik was trying to stop a girl who was forcing her way in through the barricade. His stomach lurched at the sight of her familiar face.

As if he was acting purely on instinct, Johnny shot up from his seat and ran towards you. Hyunsik held up his arm to stop him from going any closer to you. You could've been a deranged fan, for all Hyunsik knows.

"Johnny-"

"I know her."

Hyunsik was startled at his response and started to profusely apologize to you. You looked nothing but smug and Johnny let out a breathy laugh that helped unravel the knots in his stomach. The boxer quietly motioned for him to take his leave and Hyunsik hesitantly did as told only after tapping his wrist as a sign that time was ticking.

You bowed at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry I'm late! There was this damn patient-"

"It's okay. You're here now." He cut you off, a cheesy smile on his face. You easily reciprocated it back.

"I just came down here to wish you good luck." You said with the usual confidence in your tone gone and now replaced with a sudden timidness and bashfulness. "Not like you need it or anything."

"Where are you sitting?" Johnny asked, noticing that you were struggling to keep your attention on his eyes. He peered down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on, he chuckled.

You pointed near the walls of the stadium and he strained his vision to see so far away. He pursed his lips and let out a noise of discontent. You said that it was the only seats available because you were so late.

"Why don't you sit here with them? They wouldn't mind." Johnny said, jutting his thumb over to his team who was furtively watching his interaction.

"Oh no, it's okay."

"I insist. I want you to see me win up close."

You blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Johnny grinned at his successful attempt at a flirt. Was it even a flirt or was it an ego stroke? Either way, it didn't matter because you were smiling at him. You were easing his nerves and you didn't even know.

"I got out of my shift early so I wouldn't be in the hospital later to stitch you up." You teased, softly prodding his shoulder blade.

Johnny playfully puffed out his chest, "I don't plan on getting too injured today, I wanna look cool in front of you."

"Whatever you say, Johnny."

"But I'm nervous. I'm actually really nervous today." Johnny mumbled as if he didn't want anyone else in on your conversation, gone all traces of his cockiness as his heart thudded erratically against his chest when he heard Hyunsik's call of the last minute until he has to go inside the ring.

You gingerly reached for his taped hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Just count back from a hundred like I always tell you to. You'll do fine."

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" And so you did.

Counting down the numbers, Johnny clambered inside the ring and the bell rang to signal the start of the match. Being in the medical field meant that you were against all forms of violence so you couldn't really watch the entirety of the match without feeling sick to your stomach. Johnny didn't care, he was just happy that you kept your promise and was cheering him on.

It was hectic and everything was happening all at once. It was loud and everybody was screaming. This wasn't your world, it was Johnny's and your heart fluttered at the thought that he was willing to let you in it.

Eventually, the match ended in Johnny's favor and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up in the air. You had the biggest smile on your face, similar to Johnny's who now had a shiny belt slung over his shoulder. All his hard work and all his trips to the hospital paid off.

"Congrats on your win!" You exclaimed, placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself.

"I wanted you to see me get the belt." He admittedly sheepishly, reaching out to hold your wrists in his bruised hands.

"Aren't you hurt in any way? We can drop by the hospital if you want." You asked, checking to see if he had any major injuries but true to his word, Johnny was inflicted little to no injuries during the match, exclude the few bruises on his jaw and a busted lip

"Actually, I'd rather we get some coffee instead." Johnny said, the small smile on his lips making you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I don't date my patients." You smirked at Johnny's crestfallen expression, softly shoving his side to make it known that you were only joking.

Johnny pulled a face, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding once he realized your joke. He played along, "I think you can make me an exception, I don't usually invite people to my matches."

"So this is about getting even, huh?" You were teasing him and now your faces were merely inches apart but before Johnny could even think of leaning in, you spun around and grabbed his hand once more. "C'mon then, my treat!"

Johnny let out a laugh. A boxer and a doctor, who would've thought?

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warmau · 4 years

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☆ halloween party!au taeyong | *this post was commissioned warnings: fake blood, suggestive themes

you think these costumes you’re both in are ironic - taeyong should be the angel. clean and holy - bethrown with beauty and kindness. and you should be the vampire - sinking your teeth into something so defenseless and otherwise innocent.

“what kind of vampire doesn’t have a bite mark?”

doyoung asks, eyeing the side of taeyong’s bare neck - covered in cheap halloween make up in an attempt to make him look paler than the white walls of the room you’re all squashed in.

the light is flickering in different colors, somewhere someone is playing really shitty music, and there are bodies dressed up and down in costumes making their way in and out of the space. you’re twirling the prop halo that broke off your head and nod in agreement with doyoungs question.

“yeah, you should definitely have one.”

taeyong puts a hand up to his throat, his long and pretty fingers tap against the skin and he mutters something about how he really didn’t have any time to put this all together. oblivious to the fact that even without the peasant shirt, leather pants, and bad fangs - he still looks like an unreal creature from the night. what with the deepest darkest eyes, highlighted by a natural under shadow that could make whoever was caught in firing line of a look succumb to the spinning of the room. but taeyong is oblivious to it. to the devilish charm that any other man would use most horribly to his advantage.

“ill give you one.”

you lean yourself off the wall and doyoung is about to protest, grab you and keep you back from ushering taeyong into a corner somewhere. but he’s too late. taeyong falls almost willingly into step behind you - dodging zombies, doctors, and superheros until you yank whoever was in the bathroom before you two out and back taeyong up against the door.

he gives you this look, the one that embarrassingly reveals every thought running through his mind. his adams apple shifts with a nervous swallow and in the never ending brown you can see little stars start to speckle.

doyoung might not know this, but you’ve caught taeyong like this numerous times before.

three hours ago, with your angel wings abandoned on the floor, with half your costume on - hand grasping taeyongs jaw - fake blood that you accidentally spilled on him when trying to help him figure out what he was going to actually even go as to this party, sticking you to his skin. the blood, made of melted down candy had left a sweet aftertaste in your mouth - you kept on the tip of your tongue on the car ride here. under your bag and jacket spread across your lap, your hand was drawing slow circles on taeyong’s thigh. he was jittering every now and then and moving around like a unsettled cat, all of which doyoung dismissed as regular behavior. and even twenty minutes ago. before doyoung noticed the lack of taeyong’s vampire bite. before this party got so mind-numbingly boring you could only harbor for an excuse to get back alone with taeyong, you’d managed to steal a quick whisper of something impure against taeyongs shoulder.

sneaking around wasn’t your favorite activity, but taeyong is shy and new to it all. he wants to go slow and you’re ok with it because he only wants to go slow where it gets romantic. moments like these, where his breathing hitches because the imagination that you might just devour him, is the one place he’s fine with going as fast and as intense as possible. it’s still taeyong in front of you, with his little smiles and schoolgirl blushes - but like any animal that wants to be chased - there is something more in this taeyong right now.

you put one hand beside his head, tilt your face to run a line down his own with your eyes. you reach his neck and then down to the large dip of the shirts collar. on his chest, which he didn’t cover at all with makeup, there is a faint pink tint from that fake blood. or maybe its a flush that is spreading up and throughout him like branching roots as you drag the seconds on. your free hand pushes up from the hem and rests on the jut of his hip. every part of him is delicate and so easy to break. it worries you, though you won’t admit it as you curl your nails into his skin.

“where should i bite you?”

he rolls his back up the wall a little and turns his head so his mouth is at level with the wrist of your hand that’s still against the door.

“anywhere.”

“if i bite you where i want - no one else will see it.”

there it is again - those little stars clouding over his iris. you see his knee buckle a bit as he keeps his body weight up.

what did he think you meant? you wonder. you most definitely were thinking about the spot of flesh right below his ribcage, the slope that goes from hard bone to doughy and soft, but maybe you made it sound like you were thinking of something even more south.

you’ll let him swim around in the idea - from the way his mouth opens a little - you can tell he likes that thought.

“doyoung will be angry if we dont get back soo-”

your costume halo clatters to the ground, you’d put it back on your head like some feigning crown when you’d weaved through the crowd. you think these costumes you’re both in are ironic - taeyong should be the angel. clean and holy - bethrown with beauty and kindness. and you should be the vampire - sinking your teeth into something so defenseless and otherwise innocent. a classic monster tale, where good falls to its shaking knees in front of bad.

you kiss taeyong first, because you don’t want to hear about doyoung now - but also because you can tell it’ll lull him into comfort - before you move down to his jaw and then to the pulsating skin of his hot neck where you farm out the perfect place to bite down. he freezes and a hand comes up to grasp at your waist.

his body language is rigid and almost opposing - until it falls forward a little into the feeling and he moans small and vibrating into your ear. you grin against his skin - teeth piercing a little deeper and the hand on your waist curls tighter. taeyong once, with all the anxiety in the world tremoring in his voice, had told you he liked seeing the aftermath of whatever it was you two were doing. a relationship? a fling? it didn’t matter - he liked the solid evidence that coated over spot of him he kept secret.

you’d blinked and said - taeyong, you just like being marked? - and he had covered his face and rolled away from you - his back still raw and red. you’d thought it was just adorable, the way he was so averse to his own primal need. but you were here to let him let it out. pulling him back into your arms and letting him know that what he liked was something you’d be willing to provide whenever he wanted.

which is why now, leaning out and looking at your work - you flick your gaze up to taeyong’s which is now fully covered in stars. his tongue peeking out between his front teeth. he gets worked up so easily, doesn’t he?

“there. now we’ve got you a bite for your costume.”

he takes a moment to realize the heat of your body isnt smoking up into him anymore and that he can stand up straight again. you let your hand drop from the door and you move back to let taeyong come up to the little mirror in the bathroom. he turns his neck, long and elegant, to look at the bruise he’s going to come to love so much.

he puts a hand up to cover it and sheepishly returns his eyes to the floor. you take his wrist and tug it away.

“don’t hide it, i worked hard to make it perfect.”

“isn’t - won’t it be embarrassing-”

“no, it’s a part of your costume afterall.”

you give him a clear smile and he agrees - following you back out the door and up to where doyoung has moved to be strategically beside a table of food. he’s talking to johnny, whose covered from head to toe in bandages, before stopping to take in the sight of you and taeyong’s return.

taeyong doesn’t move, but you loop your fingers through the belt of his pants and tug him a little into you. he turns to look at you with confusion and doyoung catches a full view of his “vampire bite”.

you can tell he does, because doyoung snorts and tells johnny;

“did you know those two have been fuc-?”

#they asked for something along the lines of my jaehyun one #so i thought id write this for the spooky season #its not spooky #its very self indulgent #taeyong au #taeyong scenario #taeyong imagine #nsfw/#suggestive themes #nct imagines #nct au #nct scenarios #nct #taeyong #writing commissions

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