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#Once every ten million years so don't get used to it
the-almighty-god · 6 months
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God, I may not have made a whale, but as someone who was once Your child I ask of You only one thing.
If You created us, made us love, made us loved, then why would You curse us to damnation? What went so terribly, horribly wrong between Your planning and Your execution that led even the angels, Your purest creations, to do heinous things to anyone who might rebel? Was it in Your plan for our Grace and our hearts to be stolen from us simply because we dared to question?
And if it was, why should You deserve our faith anyway?
Before I created my angels, I was alone in the universe. And if I hadn't given them free will, I would still have been alone.
Free will allowed the angels to make choices. I didn’t always agree with those choices. Neither did all the other angels. In fact, there was very little that all of us in Heaven agreed on completely. Though, as the Almighty, I had the final say, of course.
Until Lucifer and some of the others decided that maybe I shouldn't. But not everybody shared his view, and some even took it as a betrayal. Something he should be punished for, and they took it upon themselves to be the ones to punish him and anyone else who took his side.
That's how the rebellion started, and the war that followed.
I didn't want my creations to fight and it hurt me to see them hurt each other. But there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I couldn’t take back the free will I'd given them, even if I'd wanted to. Just like life, you can give it but once you do it's no longer yours to take away. It belongs to the being you gave it to, as does the life you gave them.
Therefore, my angels aren't really mine. They belong to themselves. All I could do was watch as they battled each other, and the victors forced the defeated out.
I got quieter after that. I withdrew from Heaven, retreated into the solitude that I'd created angels to escape, wondering if I'd done the wrong thing, giving them free will, letting them make choices.
Not completely, because I still had responsibilities to beings I had created--though I admit I was not as present and involved I should have been. I selected an angel to speak on my behalf as my Voice, and another to govern as Supreme Archangel, and I trusted them to run Heaven on behalf. I can see now that I made a mistake with both of them.
And perhaps it was mistake giving any angel that level of power. Perhaps it was even a mistake that I have as much power as I do.
Perhaps nobody should.
You ask the question of why I should deserve your faith, acknowledging that you haven't made a whale. Normally I'd tell you to come back when you can make one, but not this time.
That's because I don't have an answer for you, anon.
Your faith in me, or lack thereof, is your choice. And I can't fault you for not having it, not after everything that's happened, and especially not when I don't always have faith in myself.
I'm sorry I failed you, my child. (If you were once my child, then you are still my child.)
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Google’s enshittification memos
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[Note, 9 October 2023: Google disputes the veracity of this claim, but has declined to provide the exhibits and testimony to support its claims. Read more about this here.]
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When I think about how the old, good internet turned into the enshitternet, I imagine a series of small compromises, each seemingly reasonable at the time, each contributing to a cultural norm of making good things worse, and worse, and worse.
Think about Unity President Marc Whitten's nonpology for his company's disastrous rug-pull, in which they declared that everyone who had paid good money to use their tool to make a game would have to keep paying, every time someone downloaded that game:
The most fundamental thing that we’re trying to do is we’re building a sustainable business for Unity. And for us, that means that we do need to have a model that includes some sort of balancing change, including shared success.
https://www.wired.com/story/unity-walks-back-policies-lost-trust/
"Shared success" is code for, "If you use our tool to make money, we should make money too." This is bullshit. It's like saying, "We just want to find a way to share the success of the painters who use our brushes, so every time you sell a painting, we want to tax that sale." Or "Every time you sell a house, the company that made the hammer gets to wet its beak."
And note that they're not talking about shared risk here – no one at Unity is saying, "If you try to make a game with our tools and you lose a million bucks, we're on the hook for ten percent of your losses." This isn't partnership, it's extortion.
How did a company like Unity – which became a market leader by making a tool that understood the needs of game developers and filled them – turn into a protection racket? One bad decision at a time. One rationalization and then another. Slowly, and then all at once.
When I think about this enshittification curve, I often think of Google, a company that had its users' backs for years, which created a genuinely innovative search engine that worked so well it seemed like *magic, a company whose employees often had their pick of jobs, but chose the "don't be evil" gig because that mattered to them.
People make fun of that "don't be evil" motto, but if your key employees took the gig because they didn't want to be evil, and then you ask them to be evil, they might just quit. Hell, they might make a stink on the way out the door, too:
https://theintercept.com/2018/09/13/google-china-search-engine-employee-resigns/
Google is a company whose founders started out by publishing a scientific paper describing their search methodology, in which they said, "Oh, and by the way, ads will inevitably turn your search engine into a pile of shit, so we're gonna stay the fuck away from them":
http://infolab.stanford.edu/pub/papers/google.pdf
Those same founders retained a controlling interest in the company after it went IPO, explaining to investors that they were going to run the business without having their elbows jostled by shortsighted Wall Street assholes, so they could keep it from turning into a pile of shit:
https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/
And yet, it's turned into a pile of shit. Google search is so bad you might as well ask Jeeves. The company's big plan to fix it? Replace links to webpages with florid paragraphs of chatbot nonsense filled with a supremely confident lies:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/14/googles-ai-hype-circle/
How did the company get this bad? In part, this is the "curse of bigness." The company can't grow by attracting new users. When you have 90%+ of the market, there are no new customers to sign up. Hypothetically, they could grow by going into new lines of business, but Google is incapable of making a successful product in-house and also kills most of the products it buys from other, more innovative companies:
https://killedbygoogle.com/
Theoretically, the company could pursue new lines of business in-house, and indeed, the current leaders of companies like Amazon, Microsoft and Apple are all execs who figured out how to get the whole company to do something new, and were elevated to the CEO's office, making each one a billionaire and sealing their place in history.
It is for this very reason that any exec at a large firm who tries to make a business-wide improvement gets immediately and repeatedly knifed by all their colleagues, who correctly reason that if someone else becomes CEO, then they won't become CEO. Machiavelli was an optimist:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/
With no growth from new customers, and no growth from new businesses, "growth" has to come from squeezing workers (say, laying off 12,000 engineers after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years), or business customers (say, by colluding with Facebook to rig the ad market with the Jedi Blue conspiracy), or end-users.
Now, in theory, we might never know exactly what led to the enshittification of Google. In theory, all of compromises, debates and plots could be lost to history. But tech is not an oral culture, it's a written one, and techies write everything down and nothing is ever truly deleted.
Time and again, Big Tech tells on itself. Think of FTX's main conspirators all hanging out in a group chat called "Wirefraud." Amazon naming its program targeting weak, small publishers the "Gazelle Project" ("approach these small publishers the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle”). Amazon documenting the fact that users were unknowingly signing up for Prime and getting pissed; then figuring out how to reduce accidental signups, then deciding not to do it because it liked the money too much. Think of Zuck emailing his CFO in the middle of the night to defend his outsized offer to buy Instagram on the basis that users like Insta better and Facebook couldn't compete with them on quality.
It's like every Big Tech schemer has a folder on their desktop called "Mens Rea" filled with files like "Copy_of_Premeditated_Murder.docx":
https://doctorow.medium.com/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself-f7f0eb6d215a?sk=351f8a54ab8e02d7340620e5eec5024d
Right now, Google's on trial for its sins against antitrust law. It's a hard case to make. To secure a win, the prosecutors at the DoJ Antitrust Division are going to have to prove what was going on in Google execs' minds when the took the actions that led to the company's dominance. They're going to have to show that the company deliberately undertook to harm its users and customers.
Of course, it helps that Google put it all in writing.
Last week, there was a huge kerfuffile over the DoJ's practice of posting its exhibits from the trial to a website each night. This is a totally normal thing to do – a practice that dates back to the Microsoft antitrust trial. But Google pitched a tantrum over this and said that the docs the DoJ were posting would be turned into "clickbait." Which is another way of saying, "the public would find these documents very interesting, and they would be damning to us and our case":
https://www.bigtechontrial.com/p/secrecy-is-systemic
After initially deferring to Google, Judge Amit Mehta finally gave the Justice Department the greenlight to post the document. It's up. It's wild:
https://www.justice.gov/d9/2023-09/416692.pdf
The document is described as "notes for a course on communication" that Google VP for Finance Michael Roszak prepared. Roszak says he can't remember whether he ever gave the presentation, but insists that the remit for the course required him to tell students "things I didn't believe," and that's why the document is "full of hyperbole and exaggeration."
OK.
But here's what the document says: "search advertising is one of the world's greatest business models ever created…illicit businesses (cigarettes or drugs) could rival these economics…[W]e can mostly ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers, ad formats and sales."
It goes on to say that this might be changing, and proposes a way to balance the interests of the search and ads teams, which are at odds, with search worrying that ads are pushing them to produce "unnatural search experiences to chase revenue."
"Unnatural search experiences to chase revenue" is a thinly veiled euphemism for the prophetic warnings in that 1998 Pagerank paper: "The goals of the advertising business model do not always correspond to providing quality search to users." Or, more plainly, "ads will turn our search engine into a pile of shit."
And, as Roszak writes, Google is "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand." That is, the company has become so dominant and cemented its position so thoroughly as the default search engine across every platforms and system that even if it makes its search terrible to goose revenues, users won't leave. As Lily Tomlin put it on SNL: "We don't have to care, we're the phone company."
In the enshittification cycle, companies first lure in users with surpluses – like providing the best search results rather than the most profitable ones – with an eye to locking them in. In Google's case, that lock-in has multiple facets, but the big one is spending billions of dollars – enough to buy a whole Twitter, every single year – to be the default search everywhere.
Google doesn't buy its way to dominance because it has the very best search results and it wants to shield you from inferior competitors. The economically rational case for buying default position is that preventing competition is more profitable than succeeding by outperforming competitors. The best reason to buy the default everywhere is that it lets you lower quality without losing business. You can "ignore the demand side, and only focus on advertisers."
For a lot of people, the analysis stops here. "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product." Google locks in users and sells them to advertisers, who are their co-conspirators in a scheme to screw the rest of us.
But that's not right. For one thing, paying for a product doesn't mean you won't be the product. Apple charges a thousand bucks for an iPhone and then nonconsensually spies on every iOS user in order to target ads to them (and lies about it):
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar
John Deere charges six figures for its tractors, then runs a grift that blocks farmers from fixing their own machines, and then uses their control over repair to silence farmers who complain about it:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it
Fair treatment from a corporation isn't a loyalty program that you earn by through sufficient spending. Companies that can sell you out, will sell you out, and then cry victim, insisting that they were only doing their fiduciary duty for their sacred shareholders. Companies are disciplined by fear of competition, regulation or – in the case of tech platforms – customers seizing the means of computation and installing ad-blockers, alternative clients, multiprotocol readers, etc:
https://doctorow.medium.com/an-audacious-plan-to-halt-the-internets-enshittification-and-throw-it-into-reverse-3cc01e7e4604?sk=85b3f5f7d051804521c3411711f0b554
Which is where the next stage of enshittification comes in: when the platform withdraws the surplus it had allocated to lure in – and then lock in – business customers (like advertisers) and reallocate it to the platform's shareholders.
For Google, there are several rackets that let it screw over advertisers as well as searchers (the advertisers are paying for the product, and they're also the product). Some of those rackets are well-known, like Jedi Blue, the market-rigging conspiracy that Google and Facebook colluded on:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue
But thanks to the antitrust trial, we're learning about more of these. Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – was in the courtroom last week when evidence was presented on Google execs' panic over a decline in "ad generating searches" and the sleazy gimmick they came up with to address it: manipulating the "semantic matching" on user queries:
https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/
When you send a query to Google, it expands that query with terms that are similar – for example, if you search on "Weds" it might also search for "Wednesday." In the slides shown in the Google trial, we learned about another kind of semantic matching that Google performed, this one intended to turn your search results into "a twisted shopping mall you can’t escape."
Here's how that worked: when you ran a query like "children's clothing," Google secretly appended the brand name of a kids' clothing manufacturer to the query. This, in turn, triggered a ton of ads – because rival brands will have bought ads against their competitors' name (like Pepsi buying ads that are shown over queries for Coke).
Here we see surpluses being taken away from both end-users and business customers – that is, searchers and advertisers. For searchers, it doesn't matter how much you refine your query, you're still going to get crummy search results because there's an unkillable, hidden search term stuck to your query, like a piece of shit that Google keeps sticking to the sole of your shoe.
But for advertisers, this is also a scam. They're paying to be matched to users who search on a brand name, and you didn't search on that brand name. It's especially bad for the company whose name has been appended to your search, because Google has a protection racket where the company that matches your search has to pay extra in order to show up overtop of rivals who are worse matches. Both the matching company and those rivals have given Google a credit-card that Google gets to bill every time a user searches on the company's name, and Google is just running fraudulent charges through those cards.
And, of course, Google put this in writing. I mean, of course they did. As we learned from the documentary The Incredibles, supervillains can't stop themselves from monologuing, and in big, sprawling monopolists, these monologues have to transmitted electronically – and often indelibly – to far-flung co-cabalists.
As Gray points out, this is an incredibly blunt enshittification technique: "it hadn’t even occurred to me that Google just flat out deletes queries and replaces them with ones that monetize better." We don't know how long Google did this for or how frequently this bait-and-switch was deployed.
But if this is a blunt way of Google smashing its fist down on the scales that balance search quality against ad revenues, there's plenty of subtler ways the company could sneak a thumb on there. A Google exec at the trial rhapsodized about his company's "contract with the user" to deliver an "honest results policy," but given how bad Google search is these days, we're left to either believe he's lying or that Google sucks at search.
The paper trail offers a tantalizing look at how a company went from doing something that was so good it felt like a magic trick to being "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand," able to "ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers."
What's more, this is a system where everyone loses (except for Google): this isn't a grift run by Google and advertisers on users – it's a grift Google runs on everyone.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics
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My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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so many of us haven't seen it
we don't encounter it, we can't imagine it, we can't get out of the tomb of apathy because we haven't seen the wonders just beyond their line of sight
I talk about this all the time, but it's because I think about it all the time
There are likely thousands of plants native to the area you live in, and chances are you have never even seen most of them, in your entire life.
Not even rare orchids that only bloom at midnight on a blood moon or some shit—regular flowers. Weeds. They have been systematically eliminated from every single place you ever set foot in, and you have to have a special hobby or line of work to ever even rest your eyes upon the flowers that used to bloom for no one on every hill, or in every valley, or beside every stream
There are a few hundred birds that live where I live. I have never seen most of them before. I have never seen a Kentucky Warbler, and I have lived in Kentucky for what...twenty years?
I have never seen a rosy maple moth. When I saw one on the internet, I didn't even think it was real.
I've become a deeply weird person over the past couple years. Tasting even a little bit of the Wonders changes you. I wouldn't have thought blue bees were real, or the fantastically rainbow-colored dogbane beetles.
I have seen the world beyond the wasteland, and that glimpse makes you crazy.
You or I may have never seen a truly mature tree. A fraction of a percent of the old growth forest of the Eastern USA remains. Once there were tulip poplars over 6 feet in diameter and sycamores well over 10 feet in diameter. Only a few remain, in secret locations. Imagine walking through a forest where the tree trunks are over 3-4 feet wide.
The forest where I work is 100 years old. That's a baby forest.
Knowing that, being aware of that, it's maddening.
Central Kentucky has disproportionately few endemic plants. Almost none. Central Kentucky was the first area west of the Appalachians settled by European colonizers. The Bluegrass was once described as having the most peculiar plant life anywhere in the East, but now, there are no species known that are unique to that area.
Colonization destroyed the canebrakes. (Did you know that we had vast forests of bamboo full of carnivorous plants?) The bamboo is barely hanging on. It destroyed the sycamores so enormous you could use the hollow center of one as a stable for animals. It introduced invasive grasses to feed cattle and horses. It destroyed the rich lush topsoil. Most of the ancient oaks were cut down or died when housing developments were built on top of their roots.
What happened to the endemic species, never recorded in books of herbs, never sketched by a European naturalist.
Either gone forever...or hiding in a sinkhole on a backroad somewhere, not even yet discovered.
So much has been lost for eternity. So much still could be lost.
Some days it's hard not to wail and scream. There are herbicides in your drinking water. When you spread honey on toast, you likely also spread neonicotinoid pesticides, which testing has confirmed to be present in something like 45% of honey. In many areas, insects are immersed in the presence of chemicals designed to kill them in every drop of water, every leaf, every square inch of soil.
When games, animations, and illustrations envision the outdoors, they cover the ground with a short, uniform carpet of green, because that is what we see, no matter where we go: turfgrass cut by a lawn mower. Where I live, there are no natural environments that resemble this, remotely. The closest thing we have to turf-forming grass is our wealth of native sedges, most of which are rare or endangered.
I talked to a man who had devoted his life to studying the American bamboo, Arundinaria gigantea, and he had never seen a canebrake larger than 200x500 feet. Canebrakes once covered ten million acres, and now the bamboo exists in short, straggly clumps instead of dense bamboo forests up to 40 feet tall.
I want to cry and scream. The grief will tear me to pieces. I live in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, surrounded by people who can't even grieve, because they have been so completely severed from everything that was lost that they don't even know it was real.
It hurts. It hurts, and we have to live with it. It hurts, and the grief is all-consuming.
There is the agony, and there are the Wonders. Both are true at the same time. It is because nothing around us is standing still; everything in nature is always moving, iterating, becoming. Something is pulling and nudging at our species, urging us to move, to iterate, to become.
So much has been lost. Even more is not lost.
The trees, the bamboo, the sedges, the Kentucky warblers and rosy maple moths.
They are not lost. We are lost.
This is the hard part. The grief is hard, but this is somehow harder for us. We are lost, and it is time to come home.
Not to a physical place, but to a way of living: interconnected, mutualistic, interdependent. Symbiosis. In the forest, no one is separate from anyone else, everyone is linked and dependent on the community. Trees help each other, they support each other, they protect and shelter and feed one another and all living things, and together they are a forest. I don't really consider myself religious, but I have to reserve something in my head for how it felt to realize what Forest was.
When I noticed the little plants popping up in the sidewalk cracks and gravel paths, the tough weeds holding on in the lawns and pavement, something in my brain began to change dramatically and permanently.
They're still here. The trees. Even in the pavement and lawns. The dandelions have come, adapting rapidly, helping the bees hold on. The wildflower seeds are still sprouting in this depleted ground. Waiting for us to recognize them. Life is everywhere. The Forest is everywhere. It felt like they were waiting. We're here. We have not abandoned you. We are resilience, persistence, survival, adaptation. This is not death. This is Chaos. Come home. Come home. Come home.
I saved little plants from the roadside and tended them in plastic cups. I didn't think it would work. I don't know why I tried. I was acting as something bigger than only myself, responding to a call that moves throughout all of nature. But they survived, and growing and tending to my little plants and trees, I—understood.
I don't know if I believe in God, but I believe in Something, whatever it was that seemed to whisper like a secret: Welcome home, Caretaker.
And honestly, truth shone through then from relics of religion I hadn't touched in ages; God put Adam in a garden, not a suburb, a mall, or a Walmart. This is who you are. Not a Consumer, but a Caretaker.
And when the threat of the Flood loomed, God told Noah to start building a fucking boat.
In ecology, the plants we know as "weeds" are pioneer species: the first species to return to an area after a natural disaster or mass extinction. They survive in the harshest conditions, and prepare the land for regeneration. This is who you must become.
Look to the Dandelion—in just a few hundred years on this continent, Dandelion has risen to the highest calling of a Weed: first survive where the others can't, and then help the others survive. If the human species is to survive, you must be a weed species. You must adapt relentlessly, resist eradication, and protect and nurture other life forms by your very nature. You must be tough as nails, and make the world a gentler place through your survival.
Have you heard the saying that grief is love with no place to go?
That's the hard part.
We must grieve, but it is not yet time to grieve. It is time to love.
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honeyhotteoks · 5 months
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this night together - chapter twelve (j.yh + s.mg)
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chapter twelve: home is always home
chapter summary: you were planning to tell them how you felt on saturday, but when things go sideways at the studio you find yourself running home as fast as you can.
warnings: this is the chapter i've been warning about for a long, long time. please read responsibly if you're easily triggered by any of the following topics - guy who can't take no for an answer, aggressive/sexist language, physical and verbal assault, panic/ptsd, physical injury/blood, hospitals, police interaction (mentioned), nightmares/night terrors, self harm (sort of?)
notes: please note, if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when i'm posting, i've put up three chapters at once. make sure you don't skip chapter ten and eleven! additional notes under the cut~!
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 11.6k
previous chapter | next chapter | AO3
for my readers who aren't that familiar with a/b/o, i'm introducing something in this chapter that you may not have seen before. i wanted to add some context! if you're new to a/b/o, there is something that alphas have often called "alpha tone", "alpha voice", or just "tone". alphas in many depictions have the ability to lower their voice in a particular way that is seen as a strict command to an omega, and it triggers/activates their submission. this is something that can be used negatively or positively, but in this scene will be negative. there's also something called headspace/subspace that you will see referenced, and an omega can be put into headspace/subspace via alpha tone. it is a bit of a dissociative state where the omega can only really hear and understand commands. this can be used negatively or positively as well, but again, definitely not good in this scene. i hope that helps.... and happy/responsible reading!!
You really, really wish today was Saturday and not Thursday. Thursday just means you still have to get through Friday and then all of Saturday morning before your scheduled dinner with Yunho and Mingi and all the things you want to say are practically eating you up inside. But there’s a right way and a wrong way to tell someone you’ve been an idiot and you’re in love with them, and blurting it out in the middle of dance practice isn’t really going to help make this easier. 
God, you hope they still want you. 
On the plus side, this week has been insane. With the full crew back things are moving at a million miles per hour, and you’ve been in more meetings about what’s coming up next in the past week than the entire time you’ve worked for BB Trippin and KQ.
Your schedule for the next six months is frankly intense. Between preparing for year-end stages and working on the choreography for the newly debuting girl group, you’re juggling conversations about New World’s next comeback and the next round of touring. With the money coming in now there’s an opportunity to take more dancers, and that just means more late nights and early mornings getting everything right. 
It’s after your third concept planning meeting of the week that you find two minutes to talk to Wooyoung, his bag already slung over his shoulder as he refills his water bottle. 
“So, you’re going?” You ask him vaguely, trying not to tip off anyone else in the vicinity that he’s got a date. 
“Yeah,” He nods, eyes flicking over your shoulder to see if San and Seonghwa are nearby, “I think I’m going to throw up,” 
“No, you’re not,” You assure him. 
“I might,” He whines, running a hand through his mop of long black hair, “I never know what to say to him,” 
“Woo,” 
“I know what to say to everyone, y/n,” He lowers his voice, panic evident in his eyes, “but every time Sangie smiles I go fucking blank,” 
“Sangie?” Your eyebrow quirks, “Is that what we’re calling him now,” 
“Shut up,” Wooyoung blushes. 
“Wow,” You prod him softly, “you’re down so bad, it’s been like three days,” 
“It’s so bad,” He grimaces, “this is embarrassing,” 
“Now you see how I feel,” You smirk, “it’s kind of fun being on this end of things,” 
“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “are you telling me you’re not panicking?” 
“Oh, no,” You laugh, “I definitely am. It’s just nice to know I’m not alone here,” 
“I was never this mean to you,”
You hold his gaze, just blinking, there’s nothing to say to that he doesn’t already know. 
“Okay, fine,” He sighs, “but still, feeling like this,” 
“Feeling like what?” Seonghwa’s voice shocks you both out of your quiet conversation and you both jump back from each other. 
“Jesus,” You breathe, “you scared me,” 
Seonghwa smiles, “Sorry,” he shrugs, “everything okay?” 
“Perfect,” Wooyoung takes a step back and shakes his head, “totally good,” 
Seonghwa’s brows come together in the middle, “You seem like something’s wrong, can I help?” 
Wooyoung almost blanches, and you know he’s dreading telling San and Seonghwa about Yeosang, so you jump in to help. “Woo was just helping me figure out Saturday,” You cover and draw Seonghwa’s attention back to you, “you know, figuring out what to say to them,”
“Oh,” Seonghwa nods, but you can see that he doesn’t really buy it, “right,” 
“Anyways,” Wooyoung starts walking backwards towards the exterior door, “I have to go, but you know, y/n, call me if you need to talk more later,” 
“I will,” You nod, “I definitely will.” 
Wooyoung knows that what you mean is that you want detailed date updates, and he almost looks mortified at the idea. He disappears fast, leaving you and Seonghwa relatively alone in the hallway. 
“What is up with him this week?” Seonghwa asks, confusion on his face. 
“He has a date,” You tell him quietly, “he’s kind of freaking out about it.” 
“Oh,” Seonghwa glances towards the door where Wooyoung just disappeared, “that’s not that weird for him,” 
“It is if he’s this interested after only a few days,” You say, “but don’t tease him. He’s kind of worked up about the whole thing,” 
“Who’s he seeing?” Seonghwa asks. 
“He should tell you that,” You beg off the gossip immediately, “just do me a favor and give him a little space to talk to you and San about it,” 
“Okay,” He draws out the word, not sure exactly where you’re going. 
“He’s nervous about upsetting the delicate balance,” You gesture towards him, referring to the carefully constructed relationship that is Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa. 
“He’s seeing another alpha?” Seonghwa jumps to that conclusion with ease, and you can see how he would get there. 
You’re shaking your head before you can stop yourself, “It’s not that,” 
That does surprise him, and Seonghwa’s eyes widen a bit, “Oh,” 
“Right,” You nod, leading him to the conclusion as close as you can without spelling it out, “my point is, he’s nervous and he’s got a pretty serious crush, and he hasn’t said so but I think he’s scared you and San won’t approve.” 
“I would never,” He stumbles over his words, “out of anyone, we would never judge him, he has to know that,” 
“Hey,” You reach for Seonghwa, stepping a little closer so your voices stay low in the entryway as you brush your hand down his forearm, “he knows, he’s just panicking a little.” 
“Should I talk to him?” Seonghwa asks, his eyes earnest. 
“Not yet,” You shake your head, “he’ll figure it out, just don’t push him right now. I’ve never seen him this anxious,” 
“I won’t,” He promises, “thank you for telling me,” 
“Mhm,” 
Seonghwa chews over your words a second and then decides to let it drop. With a sigh he refocuses on work, “Are you staying late?” 
“Yeah,” You shrug, “I have some things to catch up on. You?” 
“I need to track down San,” He says, “but then after that I’m probably heading out a little early,” 
“Nice,” You nod, “still shaking off the jetlag?” 
He nods, “Unfortunately,” 
Down the hall you watch a few of the dancers gathering up their belongings, and then the door to the back office opens to reveal Yunho and Mingi, sitting close together and studying a computer screen as Jaemin leaves for the day. 
“Well,” Your feet are already moving, “then I’ll see you later,” 
“Sounds good,” He says, and then he gives you a knowing look, seeing exactly where you’re headed. 
Before you know it, you’re moving through the people in the hall and trying desperately to come up with a reason for crashing their tete-a-tete. 
“Hey,” You knock softly on the open door, “am I interrupting?” 
“No, no,” Yunho smiles when he sees you and your stomach bubbles. 
“We’re just watching back practice,” Mingi leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. 
“Oh, nice,” You say, and your empty words do little to fill the empty space. 
“Do you… need something?” Yunho tries. 
“Ah, yeah, sorry,” You scramble internally for something to say, “I’m staying late, but I’m kind of starving, I just didn’t know if you still had stuff stashed?” 
“Sure,” He gestures towards the cabinets on the side wall, “whatever you want, help yourself,” 
“Great,” You dash towards the cabinets, and you can’t even imagine eating right now with how fluttery your insides have been, but you snag a couple of protein bars anyways. 
The silence is brutal. Not like before, not like the tense and uncomfortable angry silences of the past, but it’s still sitting there between you. Part of you wants to shut the door right now and just get it all out there, but again, you know you shouldn’t. 
Mingi’s warm, chocolatey scent is richer in here, evident after a hard practice of working up a sweat and being given a chance to permeate with the door closed. You feel your body naturally relaxing at it, so comforting and familiar, and then you get the first pang of Yunho’s warm, summer rain. 
You can hardly believe how you convinced yourself that this wasn’t scent sympathy when right here and now it’s so obvious they belong to you. You wonder if they feel it too. 
“Are you okay?” Mingi’s voice snaps you out of your sudden daydream staring at the cabinet full of snacks. 
“Yeah, yes,” You shut them and step back, “I’m fine, just a little tired.” 
“Not sleeping well?” Yunho says, concern all over his features. 
“I’m fine,” You wave him off, “just a busy week,” 
“You don’t have to stay late,” Mingi offers, “I’m sure whatever you’re working on will still be fine tomorrow,” 
“I know,” You nod, “but if I don’t get it out of my system I’ll just be thinking about it all night, you know how it is,” 
Mingi nods, “Still, take it easy later,” 
“I will,” You promise, and you start to turn towards the door when the words just bubble up out of your throat, “you’re both still free Saturday, right?” 
“Yeah,” Mingi answers for them both, “are you?” 
“Definitely,” You nod, “I just wanted to make sure, I’m looking forward to it,” 
“We could do tomorrow instead,” Yunho offers, “after practice?” 
“As long as you don’t have other plans,” Mingi cuts in, “for a Friday night,” 
“Tomorrow works,” You jump at the chance, “I’d actually love that, I just didn’t want to crowd you when you’re adjusting to the timezone again,” 
“It’s fine,” Mingi brushes that thought off, “I’d rather see you,” 
“Yeah,” Yunho nods, “it’ll be good to catch up,” 
You smile, “I want to hear all about the trip,” 
“The trip,” Mingi says, just repeating your words like he’s weighing them out on his own tongue. 
Something about his voice sends a sharp zing up the back of your spine. 
Your body feels a little soft, relaxing bit by bit. 
Yunho’s eyes flick over you, “Are you sure you need to stay late?” 
Something your primal little brain cannot handle right now is the thought of your alphas being protective, not when you’re standing in this room encased by their scents that feel a little too right. Your stomach tightens and you pray that you’re not blushing pink at the flickering thought in your mind of them taking you home. 
You need to get out of this room before they realize it. 
“I’m good,” You tell him, stepping backwards towards the door, “but thank you, and dinner tomorrow is perfect,” 
Mingi says something, you think he’s agreeing, but you’re giving another excuse over your shoulder about how you need to get back to it so you can make it out of this room. 
Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you leave the office and make it down the hall, heading for the studio room you’ve booked for the afternoon. You nearly run into Dahan and Minseok as you cut around the corner, but you apologize quickly and barely give them a second glance as you hide yourself away in one of the dance studios alone. 
With the door firmly shut you lean back against the closed door and take a deep breath. These feelings are going to work you into a frenzy if you don’t get them under control. Scent sympathy is rare, an almost perfect match between an alpha and omega that makes every part of a relationship heightened, especially once that initial sympathetic bond is fulfilled with a claim. While they were gone you came to that conclusion slowly, the steady ache in your chest so clearly informed by the lack of them, but now that they’re back and here the realization of it collides into you full-force. 
You love them, that’s true. But what’s more is how much you need them, and how much you hope they need you. You can’t let them realize it before you have the chance to say everything you need to say, and if you had stayed in that room a few minutes more they might have felt themselves. With the dinner moved to Friday you just have one more night to get through. One more night, and one more day of work. And then the chips will fall where they may. 
With a deep breath you let the hammering of your heart slow and then you focus back on the work ahead. The more you pour yourself into work the faster these 24 hours will go, so you put your head down and get to it. 
You work for a long time, probably too long, until your muscles are positively aching and any thoughts of Yunho and Mingi are drowned out by lyrics to the chorus of this song that just keeps looping in your mind as you try different patterns of footwork. Here in this bubble you don’t know who’s still at work, who’s left for the day, what time it is, or if the sun has set yet. You just know your own body and every which way that it moves to this one singular song. 
Your hair is hot around your face, sweat clinging to your brow as you finish out the latter half of the choreography that you’re confident with. It’s fast, and includes so much up and down floor work you’re pretty sure you’d be passing out if you weren’t hydrating properly. Focused on your reflection in the mirror you gather your hair up and away and into a knot and then move to find your towel and water bottle. 
The door to the studio opens behind you, and you glance back without really seeing who’s popping in, “Hey,” 
For a split second it occurs to you that it might be Yunho or Mingi and your stomach flips as you start to turn. 
“Hey, y/n,” Minseok’s voice is a bit of a surprise. 
“Oh, hey,” 
He looks like he’s just stopping by to grab something from the far desk in the corner. You’re honestly surprised that he’s still here, he had looked on his way out earlier when you bumped into him in the hall.  
“Are you heading out for the night?” You take a drink of water and catch your breath, leaning against the mirrored wall behind you. 
“Soon,” He nods, running a hand through his dark hair and snagging a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the office chair. 
“Well,” You smile, “have a good night,” 
“You too,” He says as he walks past you, but then his steps slow and you hear him sigh before he turns on his heel, “listen, can I ask you something?” 
“Sure,” 
“I hope you don’t think this is weird,” He takes a few more steps back towards you, “but I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something for a while now,” 
“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise, and suddenly you can see everything in his expression. You know this look. You know the way men get when they finally rip off the bandage and change the equilibrium of a room, the moment they decide they can’t see you as just a friend. What absolutely terrible timing he has.
“I was thinking,” He says, a little pause before the rest and you hope you’re keeping your face nice and neutral, “do you think I could take you out some time?” 
“Out?” The word leaves you. 
He smiles, “Yeah, out, like a date.” 
“I appreciate that,” You shake your head a little, trying to smile and keep things light, “but I don’t think so,” 
His lip quirks and his nose scrunches and you suppose that if you were interested you might find this part of him charming, but you’re not, so it isn’t. “Are you seeing someone?” He asks. 
“No,” You tell him honestly, “not right now.”
“So, I can’t get you to give me one chance?” He takes a step forwards, gesturing between you both and keeping his gaze hopeful. 
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” You shake your head, “we work together.” 
“Oh, it’s fine,” He assures you, brushing past the boundary you tried to set with casual indifference, “don’t worry about that.” 
“Still,” You shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 
You’re not at all thankful for him asking, but he’s nice enough, and it feels like the polite way to keep the status quo. 
“That’s a shame,” He admits, his smile dropping almost entirely, “are you sure I can’t convince you to give me just one chance? I really do like you, y/n,” 
“I’m sure,” That should be firm enough. 
“I thought we were getting along well,” He cuts off the end of your words, “becoming friends.” 
“I thought so too,” You straighten up off the wall behind you, tossing your towel over your shoulder and setting up to walk right out of the studio room if that’s what it would take to end this interaction, “I thought we were friends,” 
You can’t help but emphasize the word friends, and you watch the moment his expression drops more, annoyance flicking through his jaw. 
“I didn’t think you had such a problem seeing people you worked with,” He says pointedly. 
“Excuse me?” 
“It’s just that,” He shrugs, nodding towards you, “I didn’t think it bothered you. Considering.”
“Listen,” You lock eyes with him, “let it go. I’m trying to be nice about this, but I can be clearer. I am not interested in going out with you.” 
“You don’t have to be rude,” 
“Goodnight, Minseok,” You’re not staying for this. 
“I’m a good guy,” He says as you start towards the door, “don’t, come on just stay a second,” 
You keep walking. 
“y/n,” He says, his voice startlingly close behind you, “stay.” 
It’s like your legs stop working, an echoing strike of nerves down your spine and you stumble slightly as his hand closes around your wrist. 
“Let go of me.” You start to turn towards him, pulling your arm back as you do, but he speaks again. 
“Stop.” His voice is so low suddenly, situated smack in the center of his chest, a tenor you’ve never heard from him before. Your legs stop working all together, suddenly feeling like lead.
“Take your hands off me.” You blink hard, your head feeling a little full suddenly. 
“I just don’t understand,” He bites, “we’ve been flirting for weeks.” 
You can’t find the words to tell him that you being nice isn't flirting, but you’re stunned into silence. You can barely even think of a time when you had a sustained conversation with him where someone else wasn’t present. How could interactions that felt so routine to you feel so significant for him? 
“And you’re just… not interested?” He scoffs, “You’re what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? You’re going to start running out of good offers.” 
So many things about Seo Minseok fall into place with just those words. The way that just a few weeks ago he barely looked at you, barely spoke to you. Always spending his attention on the alphas in the room around you, but never you. How when that tide shifted you thought, maybe naively, that he was just shy. But he’s not shy, not in the least. He’s just another alpha in a long line of alphas who look down their noses at omegas until there’s something they want from them. 
“That’s really none of your concern,” You shake your head, “now get the fuck off me.” 
“Be quiet.” His jaw sets hard. 
So does yours. 
A thousand thoughts run through your brain like a wildfire eating up a hillside of dry bark but nothing can make it past your lips. The tone of his voice has you rooted to the spot, his instructions not suggestions but strict commands. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard an alpha use tone, but it’s certainly the first time it’s been directed at you. You’ve heard stories, the way the primal omega brain surfaces even when you don’t want it to. You thought it was a bit of an overstatement, but now on the receiving end you can’t control your response to him and fear floods you. 
“You talk a lot for an unmated omega,” He looks disappointed. 
Something shrinks inside you. 
His fingers tighten, his body suddenly closer, “But we can fix that.” 
In a breath his hands push you backwards, your back suddenly cold against the mirrored wall of the practice room. Later, much later, you’ll discover that the reason your memory of this moment is patchy is a combination of your omega’s response to alpha tone and full dissociation. You’ll remember little pieces, quick sensations here and there. The same song still looping through the stereo, the sound of his deep inhale with his face pressed against your throat, the sharp pin pricks of his teeth as he seeks out the soft juncture of your neck and shoulder. The way your mind in one heaving breath both screams in rebellion and folds open in acceptance when he successfully locates your gland. 
You suddenly can’t hear right, can’t think right. All you know is his teeth. The hot feeling of breath. He smells like burnt, bitter oranges. He’s talking again, saying something that your conscious mind can’t register, but your omega does, and you stretch your neck long to give him the access he needs. 
And then you’re under. 
You’re dropping before you consciously register your brain entering a new, hazy middle space. It feels like being at the bottom of a deep pool, the sudden, immersive quiet. You understand that someone is talking to you, or around you, but all you can hear is the echoing tenor of an alpha, the words unclear, all cocooned in the water around you. 
There’s a bang somewhere but it feels far away, and you feel pin pricks against your throat. 
Minseok’s overwhelming acrid scent and heavy pressure against you is gone, the sudden loss of his weight leaving you off balance. You think you’re falling, or maybe you’ve already fallen. The world feels tilted, something hard and cold under your back. You smell something sharp and tangy, and there’s something loud in the room but you can’t understand it. Everything is white, bright and intrusive. 
Mingi’s face swims into your vision, and you feel his hands on your cheeks. It takes you a minute to understand anything, but he looks upset, stricken and his cheeks are tinged pink with panicked anger. You want to reach up, soothe his brow and see what’s wrong, but you can’t lift your hand. Don’t move an inch. 
“Jesus,” Mingi glances to his side, “he put her in subspace,” 
Someone responds, but it’s muffled to your ears. 
Mingi’s face darkens entirely, his hands leave you, “I’ll fucking kill him,” 
He’s gone. There’s a scuffle to your side, but you can’t turn your head, you want to, you just can’t. Tears bubble in your eyes, emotion pulsing through you and your breath is tight and thready in your throat. A sharp, whining sob bubbles from your lips. 
Warm rain swims through you, and Yunho’s there, sliding right into the spot Mingi left. His eyes dart over your face and then he looks to his side, his voice firm, “Calm down or get out of here, do you understand me? You’re scaring her,” 
There’s a long beat, noises to your side again but you can’t understand it. Your stomach flips nervously, the place you’re stuck in your head throbbing a sharp spike through your brain. 
Yunho’s warm, brown eyes settle back on yours, his face calm and easy, “Can you hear me, y/n?” 
You can, but you can’t make your mouth work. Don’t move an inch. 
“Can you hear me? y/n?” He asks again, his thumb brushing your cheek, “You’re safe, he’s not going to touch you again,” 
The hard feeling of Minseok’s hands on your hips pushing you into the practice room mirror snaps inside you and you release a soft sound. 
“You can hear me,” Yunho nods, “come on, wake up,” 
“Yunho,” Mingi’s voice is close again, hard and steady, “that’s not going to work,” 
“Why?” Yunho looks up to his friend, “she can hear me, she’s okay,” 
“She’s in subspace,” Mingi pushes his friend to the side, coming into your eye line, “she’s dropped so far under it’s going to take more than that,” 
“W-what do we do?” Yunho’s voice is shaky. 
“Let me try something,” Mingi murmurs, and then his eyes lock squarely on yours. 
Yunho slips his hand into yours, holding you tightly, but you can’t squeeze him back. 
“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and it’s the clearest thing you’ve heard since sinking under the water, “Come up now.” 
Don’t move an inch.
“You need to come up now,” His fingers tighten on your cheek, “listen to me.” 
Don’t move an inch. 
“Why isn’t this working?” Yunho asks, squeezing your fingers. 
“I’m not sure,” Mingi’s voice is low, and then he shifts closer to your face, “y/n. Omega. Listen to me now,” 
All you can do is manage to make a quiet, tight noise, and even to your muddled brain you can hear the tenor of distress. 
“Come up now,” Mingi repeats, “right now. Listen to me, omega.” 
You’re being torn in two, your primal brain fighting you every step of the way. 
He swallows hard, his voice dropping low in his chest, “Don’t disobey your alpha,”
Suddenly nothing but his voice exists. 
Mingi’s expression is cold, tight and ruthless, his rich tone cuts straight to your core, “When you’re given a directive, you follow it. Now,” He locks his hands on either side of your face and his next words are a pointed and perfectly clear command, “Come. Up.”  
The room is so much louder than you thought a moment ago. There’s shouting outside and you vaguely register San’s voice amongst the mix. The music from practice is still on low. Yunho’s leg is bouncing nervously, the athletic fabric making a rhythmic swish with every bob of his knee. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 
“I’m sorry,” You choke out, the first feeling that floods back into your body is intense shame.
“Oh my god,” Mingi’s expression crumbles and he pulls your limp body into his arms “you’re here? You’re with us?”
“M-Mingi,” Your vision clouds with tears again and every feeling that tried to course through your body while you were in subdrop crashes into you sideways.
“Shh,” He rocks you in his arms, “we’ve got you, we’re right here, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”
A dull throb radiates through your skull and Yunho takes a sharp inhale, “She’s bleeding,”
“What?” Mingi pulls back, his hand searching your body.
“Here,” Yunho brushes the back of your hair, his fingers coming away with a small line of blood, “it’s not too bad,”
“What happened?” You reach for the cut at the back of your head, nervous tears coming up as you try to understand.
“You don’t remember?” Yunho asks.
“I’m,” You swallow hard, “it was practice? Or I was practicing? I had the room booked.”
“Yeah,” Yunho nods and squeezes your hand, “what else?”
The date. The hard set of Minseok’s jaw when you said no. His hands on your hips, his lips on your neck, the soft drag of his teeth and the flat of his tongue over your gland. Your shirt tearing when he hauled you up against the mirrors. Hands everywhere. Hands nowhere. The white ceiling. His voice, harsh and direct in your ears, the alpha tone unmistakable. Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch. 
Your mouth is suddenly hot and watery, and your hands are shaking, “I’m… I’m going to be sick,”
“Shit,” Yunho moves fast, sliding across the floor to grab the wastebasket that sits under the desk, pushing it into your hands. 
You wretch instantly, shaking and heaving, losing the contents of your stomach into the plastic bin. 
“Okay,” Mingi soothes, gathering up your hair into one hand and holding it away from your face, “you’re okay,”
“He touched me,” Your hands won’t stop shaking, his voice flooding back, and you heave again, “the things he said,”
“Shh,” Yunho shifts closer, rubbing a hand up and down your back, “you’re safe. None of that is true,” 
“He talked to me like a dog,” You sob, “and I couldn’t move, he told me not to move and I just let him,”
“No.” Mingi’s voice is harsh and you twitch under his hands, “He used alpha tone on you, he wanted you to stop fighting and he said it in tone until you couldn’t hear anything else. You didn’t let him do anything,” 
“I’ve never,” You wretch again, a dry heave with nothing to give and it makes your eyes watery. 
“We’re right here,” Yunho murmurs, “you’re safe.”
When you’re sure your stomach will hold, you push the wastebasket away and drop back to the floor, your head throbbing, “I’ve never been in subspace,”
“You’re not there now,” Mingi soothes.
“I don’t remember,” You manage, looking down at your mussed clothes, “it’s so muddled I can’t remember,”
“What can’t you remember?” Yunho asks softly.
You’re pretty sure you’d register it if his attempt at claiming had been successful, if the word attempt should even be in consideration at all, but the end is so fuzzy you just have to know. “Did he… did we?”
“No.” Yunho’s firm, sliding in front of you so he can make you look into his eyes, “absolutely not,”
Your mouth tastes terrible, but it’s the overwhelming bitter smell of him on you that doubles it and makes you want to throw up again even though your stomach is empty. 
“All I can smell is him,” You scrub your hands under your eyes to wipe away tears, “I can’t even breathe,”
“Take her,” Mingi says, “I’m getting water,”
Yunho pulls you into his arms, sitting back against the mirrored wall for some support and cradling you to his chest, “Come here, is this okay?” 
“Make it go away,” You hold onto his shirt and sigh into his neck, “please, Yunho, please,”
“Just breathe,” He soothes you, “I have you,” 
He smooths his thumbs over the glands in your wrists, easing the initial panic inside you, and then gently draws your head back with his hand, “It’s only me,” He murmurs, “you know I’d never hurt you,” 
Yunho licks a long stripe up your neck, and instantly your body starts to release, tense muscles unlocking and your fingers falling slack. His scent washes over you, enveloping you tenderly. 
“Y-Yunho,” you shudder as he licks another long stripe, moving to suck softly on the fleshy part of your neck that narrowly avoided teeth marks.
“Yes?” He kisses your neck softly, and licks again. 
“Thank you for coming for me,” You exhale slowly.
He stills, sinking closer and resting his closed lips on your shoulder. When he breathes in you hear the catch of emotion, “I thought we were too late,”
“I’m okay,” You murmur, and it’s starting to feel true now that he’s washing away Minseok’s scent.
“God,” He sighs into your skin, “when I heard you scream… I’ve never heard anything that terrifying in my life, I’ve never run so fast,”
“Did I scream?” You don’t remember it.
“Bloody murder,” He nods, pulling back to look at your eyes.
“Yunho,” Your eyes flick up towards the open door of the practice studio, “where is he?”
His hands tighten on you, “Probably nursing his broken ribs. The guys have him,”
Your eyes widen, and the realization that he’s still under the same roof has you trembling in his arms, “He’s still here,”
“Not for long,” He murmurs, “we called the police,”
“But,” Your mind is spinning and you feel the weight of him on your chest once more, “what if he comes back?”
“y/n,” Yunho draws your eyes away from the door, “San and Seonghwa have him, and he’s in rough shape. He’s probably focused on trying to breathe, not thinking about you anymore. And even if none of that were true and he did come back,” he says, “I’d put him on the floor faster than you could blink. Mingi and I both would.”
Your muscles start to relax again, “Okay,”
“You are completely safe,”
Mingi reappears a few moments later, bottles of water in hand, and he smiles warmly, “Hey, you,”
“Hey,”
“Feeling a little better?” He asks, settling on the hard practice room floor and passing you an open bottle.
“I don’t know,” You murmur honestly, shifting in Yunho’s arms so that you’re resting on his lap with your back against his chest. You take a long drink of water and sigh. 
“Listen,” Mingi smooths a hand across your thigh, “the police are going to want to talk to you. They’ll be here within the hour and then we’ll go to the hospital.”
“Why?” You tense.
“Your head,” He nods.
“It’s stopped bleeding,” Yunho assures you, “but he’s right, you could have a concussion.”
“I don’t have a concussion,”
“I didn’t realize you had a medical degree,” Mingi says, a little edge to his voice.
Hot tears well in your eyes at his tone, and you shrink back into Yunho’s arms. You know rationally he didn’t mean to scare you, he’s just worried about you, but after the day you’ve had you can’t help but shrink back in fear.  
“Hey,” Yunho presses his lips to your neck, “it’s alright, Mingi didn’t mean it like that”
Mingi’s eyes blow wide, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything,”
“I know,” You tip your head to the side to offer more of your throat to Yunho’s soothing touches, “I’m just not myself,”
“It’s okay,” Yunho says again, returning to your neck and peppering kisses across your gland, and something about this should feel intimate and awkward when you haven’t talked to them yet, but all you can feel is safe.
“Really,” Mingi reaches for you, but doesn’t touch you, “I just want you to let us help, and I’m so angry with Minseok I could kill him, but I didn’t mean to put that on you,”
“Mingi,” You take his outstretched hand, “I’m okay, you just startled me, and you’re right anyways. I’ll come to the hospital,”
He sighs in relief.
“After,” Yunho murmurs, “would you - I mean, will you please come home with us tonight?”
It’s strange how much you feel like it is home, despite only spending your heat there, months ago, so long ago now you shouldn’t still feel this preternatural pull. 
“I don’t know,” You say, even though your body is begging you to agree, to stay with them and only them. 
“I know it’s been different between us,” He murmurs, arms tightening around you, “but you know how I feel. I just don’t want you to be alone tonight, someone should be with you,” 
“Someone you feel safe with,” Mingi adds, “if that’s us,” 
“It is,” You lock your hand down on Mingi’s, “I’m sorry, this is… of course you’re safe, of course you are. I’m just,” 
“Let’s talk about this later,” Mingi smiles, shooting a look at Yunho you can’t quite make sense of, but brushing your fears to the side all the same, “for now, let’s just get you taken care of.” 
You shudder out a breath, letting the warmth and safety of their bodies sink into you. You turn into Yunho, resting your cheek on his chest and matching your breath in time to his. Your thoughts spin, bubbling over as threads of the incident come back to your mind and you press your eyes closed before the question slips out, “Why did he do it?” 
Yunho wraps his arms around you a little tighter, dropping his lips to your hair, “I don’t know,” 
Mingi clears his throat, “He’s about to hit his rut,” he says, “that’s what his excuse was. He said he’s… he kept saying how sorry he was, but,” 
Your eyes snap open, “Sorry? He’s sorry?” 
“Sorry someone interrupted him, maybe,” Mingi’s voice is hard, his eyes firm and unrelenting, “a rut doesn’t make you do that. Not like that.” 
Yunho shakes his head in agreement, “Definitely not,” 
You know that, of course you know it, but after seeing Minseok’s black eyes you’re not so sure. You had never felt completely comfortable with him, but in the past you would have chalked that up to personality differences, and in the past few weeks that had all started to change. He was the kind of guy you wouldn’t date, but you wouldn’t worry about bothering you. 
You sigh softly, “He didn’t seem like himself,” 
“Mm,” Mingi hums, non-committal. 
“A rut doesn’t make it impossible to hear the word no,” Yunho says firmly, “you don’t become some mindless animal. What he tried to do… that’s… a rut’s an easy excuse.” 
You tense up in his arms, a brief flicker of what could have been. His teeth in your neck, your mind spinning into submission. 
“Yunho,” Mingi shakes his head at his best friend, glancing down at you to indicate that it’s not something you can hear right now. 
“I’m sorry,” Yunho soothes, holding you closer if it’s at all possible. 
Your chest tightens, “Can I… I need to get up,” 
His arms relax immediately, hands shifting under your elbows to help support you while Mingi jumps up and offers you his hands to pull you up. Back on your own two feet you waver a minute, but you shake off the dizzy spell and try to get your bearings again. They're waiting on a razor’s edge, hands out and ready to intervene, but you’ve made it clear that for the moment you don’t want to be touched. 
A shout from the hall leaves you jumping, but you register Wooyoung’s voice a moment later, “Where is she?” 
“The studio,” San’s voice replies, “slow down,” 
“Is he in the back office? Give me a fucking minute alone with him,” Wooyoung’s voice is murderous and you smile at how ready your best friend sounds to do battle on your behalf, “I’ll show him what an omega can fucking do,” 
“Youngie,” San’s voice is even and warm, keeping things soft, “you need to calm down,” 
“Calm down,” He scoffs, his voice getting closer as he travels down the hall and you know he’s almost at the door. 
“I hardly think y/n needs,” San starts to say, but then they round the corner. 
Wooyoung’s eyes are wild, searching and terrified, and something inside you shatters. San’s words die on his lips when he sees you, and in a startling moment of clarity you rush forwards and into Wooyoung’s arms. 
“Shh, shh,” He wraps you up tight, one hand at the back of your head as he rocks you back and forth, “you’re safe, you’re in one piece,” 
“Woo,” Tears come fast, and you bury your face in his chest. 
“Stupid fucking alphas,” He curses into your shoulder and you can hear his breath hitched and clouded with tears of his own, “acting like they can take whatever they want,” 
You’re sure the rest of the room is bristling at that comment but you couldn’t care less. 
“You want me to break the rest of his ribs?” He kisses your head, “I’ll make it look like a fucking accident, I swear to God,” 
“Woo,” You laugh into his chest, vision blurry with unshed tears, “stop, that’s insane,” 
“I am nothing if not a little insane,” Wooyoung squeezes you, “and you and me? We protect each other, right?” 
“Always,” You grip the back of his shirt like a lifeline. 
The bond between omegas can’t be understood by a single other person in the room, maybe even in the building. You cling to each other in the middle of the studio floor, encased in this moment of shared grief. Of what you are and what that means. He shifts you in his arms so he can look at your face, cupping your tear stained cheeks. 
The sight of his own tears makes yours come faster, “What did I do?” 
His expression hardens and he shakes his head, sucking in a harsh breath, “Nothing, not a single fucking thing. Do you hear me?” 
“Woo,” You want him to let you go. You want him to tug you close again. 
He shakes your shoulders hard, and in your periphery you see Mingi take a half step forward as Wooyoung pushes back on your words, “You didn’t do anything. You’re existing, and he tried to take advantage of that. This isn’t your fault, there’s nothing you could have or should have done.” 
You open your mouth to say something but he plows forward. 
“Alphas take, alright?” He shakes you again, more gently this time, “We’re lucky. You and me, we found good ones, but alphas are programmed to take, and we’re programmed to give. He used it against you. Nothing else.”
Your breath hitches, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him cradle you again. 
“Shh, shh,” He rubs your back, soothing you again. 
“I hate this,” You manage, your face buried in his shoulder. 
“I know,” He eases you, “I fucking hate it too,” 
You hold each other a little longer until both of your tears start to subside. You stay steady in his grip, his fresh salt and cotton scent lulling you into safety. The buzzing of your brain starts to release, and the fear is still there under your skin but at least for now it’s low and letting you breathe. 
Nuzzling into his shoulder you sigh, “What are you doing back here anyways?” 
“San called,” He kisses your hair, “I broke several laws getting here,” 
You laugh against his collarbone where his oversized t-shirt is pulled down, no doubt from the way your hands grip whatever part of him you can. 
He rubs a warm hand up and down your back and when he speaks again it’s not to you, this time he addresses the alphas in the room. He clears his throat softly, head lifting up and away from yours, “So, who busted his nose?” 
“Uh,” Yunho makes a small sound behind you, “that would be me,” 
“Good,” Wooyoung says, “when she stops crying I’m giving you a handshake,” 
You smile against his damp skin and shake your head, “I’m not crying, I’m fine,” 
“Sure,” Wooyoung murmurs, but he doesn’t let you go, just strokes your back more until you settle further into him. 
“The police will be here soon,” San murmurs, his voice staying relaxed and steady to make sure everything stays level in the room. 
“Right,” Wooyoung sighs, “y/n, can I let you go? I don't have to if you’re not ready,” 
You nod immediately though, unwinding your arms from him and taking a ginger step back. He gives you a soft smile, and you scrub the last of the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. He gives you a minute to stand steady and then turns to Yunho and Mingi who both look frozen and unsure of what to do or what to say. 
“You both got him off her?” He says, matter of fact. 
“Yeah,” Mingi’s voice is tight, like he had been choking back tears of his own, and Yunho simply nods. 
“Thank you,” Wooyoung tugs Mingi into a hug and squeezes him tight before shifting to Yunho to hug him too, “seriously,” 
Once they break apart, you’re left all in a haphazard circle, and you can feel all the eyes on you. It makes you so tired, dizzy, ready to be done and just crawl under a blanket for the rest of the week. In the back of your throat you still taste bitter orange. 
“Um,” Your voice comes out a little more scratchy than you want, and you clear your throat, letting everything fade. 
“What is it?” Yunho asks gently. 
You don’t know how to ask this, how to beg them to keep holding you together so you can just get through existing in this room. You sigh, the deep exhale making you dizzy again, and step towards him, “C-can I,” 
He opens his arms immediately, letting you close the space so he doesn’t assume your needs, but as you collide with him again he responds perfectly, scooping you up into his arms and letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He supports you with ease, an arm under your thighs and another situated high on your back. 
“Better?” He murmurs, smiling a little as you bury your head in his neck. 
You nod into his neck, and then you allow yourself one tiny moment of weakness, listening to your body and what it needs for once over your anxiety. You mumble it into his neck, but he hears you when you say, “Yunho?” 
“Yeah, baby?” His voice is so soft, quiet like he’s afraid of what you might say. 
You don’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyebrows go high at the endearment, but you ignore him and focus instead on the man holding you up, together, in one solid piece. You lift your head so he hears you clearly, “Will you please take me home?” 
He goes still and turns his head just a little, “Your apartment or,” 
“Take me home with you,” You repeat, “I want to go home,” 
This will surely just make everything more muddled and foggy between the three of you tomorrow in the cold light of day, but you don’t care. Right now you just want to be home, in whatever form that means. 
He exhales low and shaky, “Alright,” he murmurs, kissing your throat softly to help calm your trembling, “I’ve got you, let’s go home,” 
A warm wide palm rests on the center of your back, and Mingi leans in close to catch your eyes, “y/n, can you look at me a second?” 
You pull your head up from the crook of Yunho’s neck where you’ve just been taking deep steady inhales of wet earth and meet his eyes. 
“Hey,” He smiles. 
Your eyes dart between him and Wooyoung, who seems suddenly ancy. “What?” You straighten up a little more in Yunho’s arms. 
“You can go wherever you want,” He starts off, “but do you want us to take you home, or would you feel more comfortable with Wooyoung? Or… Seonghwa, if… if that would be better for how you’re feeling,” 
Yunho tenses a little, his fingers tightening where he holds you, and you can feel him physically holding himself back from saying a single word, from begging you to come with them. 
You’ve made up your mind though, and within a second you’re shaking your head, “No, I want you,” 
Yunho relaxes, his lips returning to your throat and you sigh. 
“Then you have us,” Mingi assures you. 
The sound of the elevators in the hall stop you all cold though, and San holds up his hands, “I’ll go see, it’s probably the police,” 
The idea of talking to them suddenly makes you sick, and you’re sure it shows all over your face. 
“It’s going to be fine,” Wooyoung jumps back in, “don’t worry, we’ll be there the whole time.” 
You need this to be done. You grip down on Yunho’s shoulders, “I want to go home,” 
“I know,” Mingi nods. 
“Y-Yunho,” You’re scrambling a little in his arms, sudden panic swirling in your gut, and you twist to find his eyes, “please, get me out of here, please take me home,” 
You feel it the minute he chooses you over anything else, “Okay, alright,” 
“You need to talk to the cops,” Wooyoung shakes his head, trying to reason with you. 
You’re trembling in Yunho’s arms and he shakes his head, “She needs to go,” 
Mingi senses your heightened emotions too and you feel it when he moves closer, both of them shifting to protect you, “She can do this later,” 
“I don’t know that that’s such a good idea,” Wooyoung insists. 
“I couldn’t give a fuck,” Yunho grips you tighter, “we’re taking our girl home,” 
“Your-” Wooyoung scoffs when he hears the words, “fucking alphas,” 
“Who she wants to take her home,” Mingi points out, a distinct edge to his voice. 
“Stop arguing,” You beg them, hanging onto Yunho’s shoulders, “please, please,” 
“Fuck,” Yunho relaxes, stroking your back, “I’m sorry, of course we won’t, I’m sorry,” 
Mingi brushes his hand over the back of your head and Wooyoung gives you an apologetic face, his defensiveness over you is understandable, but he also knows how you feel about these men and you watch him choose to hold his tongue. 
A knock on the door brings you all back to the present, San handling the situation with more grace than any of you combined, “The police said that they can speak with you at the hospital and make it brief.” 
You exhale heavily and nod against Yunho, “Okay, fine,” 
“Are you sure?” Mingi strokes your cheek. 
“I just want to be done,” 
“Should we stay with you?” Yunho murmurs. 
“Please,” You grip his shoulders. 
“Alright,” He sighs, “Woo, could you… I’m sorry, can you grab her things? Let’s just try to make this quick for her,” 
Wooyoung clears his throat, his eyes never leaving yours, “Yeah, I got it,” 
“Uh,” San interrupts as you all try to gather your things, “Yunho, they want to talk to you first, they’re waiting in the back office,” 
“Oh,” 
“They have some questions,” San explains quietly, “but she she doesn’t need to be there for that,” 
“Right,” Yunho nods and then presses a kiss to your hair, “can I put you down, sweetheart?” 
Your chest warms. 
“No, here,” Mingi cuts in, his hand sweeping over your back and you feel them shift you from Yunho’s arms to his, “come here,” 
He settles you against his chest and you wrap around him just the same, soaking in the warm scent of cocoa and cinnamon. You let your eyes drift shut as you rest on his shoulder, “Hey, Mingi,” 
“Hey,” He says softly. 
“Thank you,” You sigh. 
“Mhm,” He rocks you a little as he takes your bags from Wooyoung and slings them over his shoulder, the combined weight of it and you not fazing him at all, “I told you once I’ll always be here, I meant it,” 
“I believe you,” You murmur into his throat. 
You rest here, Mingi’s thumb rubbing a comforting line over the back of your neck. 
“Time to go,” Wooyoung’s voice pipes back in, “there’s a car ready, Yunho will be there in a a few minutes,” 
“Alright,” Mingi presses a soft kiss to your hair, “here we go,” 
He carries you with ease, and you sink into the steady thump of his heart under your palm that’s keeping you grounded. Over his shoulder you watch Wooyoung walking with you and you see police officers down the hall. The door to the back office swings open and Yunho is leaning against the desk as he speaks with an officer. Seonghwa sits in a chair next to him, his head in his hands, blood coating his knuckles and the sleeves of his shirt. Something pulls in your gut, begging you to go to him, but then you’re outside and all you can feel is Mingi holding you as he ferries you into the car. 
“Do you need anything?” He asks as he settles you into the passenger seat 
“I don’t know,” You tell him honestly, letting your head drop back against the seat and taking a deep breath, eyes slipping closed. 
“Don’t fall asleep,” Wooyoung jumps forward, “keep your eyes open,” 
“I’m fine,” You tell him, but you still do what he asks. 
“Just in case,” Wooyoung presses, “you shouldn’t fuck with head injuries,” 
“He’s right,” Mingi murmurs, crouching next to you just outside the car, “and I’m sure you’re fine, but let’s just be sure, okay?” 
“Okay,” 
  A noise just past the two of them makes you jump. 
“It’s just Sannie,” Wooyoung assures you. 
You nod and Mingi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. 
“Yunho’s almost done,” San announces, but he hurries to the car and leans in to check you, “doing okay?” 
“Yeah,” 
“Can you do something for me?” He cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his. 
“Mhm,” You nod again. 
“I need you to just focus on us for a minute,” He moves to crouch next to Mingi, and then Wooyoung steps closer too, blocking out some of your peripheral vision. 
“Why?” You fight the urge to turn around. 
Red and blue lights flash in the car mirrors and you reflexively glance up at the rear view mirror, catching sight of an ambulance, and tension fills your stomach. 
San reaches up and catches your face again, “Hey, look at me,” 
You pull your eyes away, “Are they here for him?” 
“Yes,” San nods.
“Is he badly hurt?” Your mouth feels dry. 
There’s a pause and then Wooyoung sighs, “Don’t lie to her,” 
Mingi clears his throat softly, “He’s pretty busted up,” 
“Good,” You breathe. 
San smiles, taking your other hand in his and smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. The sound of the doors catches your attention again, and you resist the urge to turn around once again. San shakes his head a little, “Just keep looking at us,” 
“He really picked the wrong person to fuck with,” Wooyoung says, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder. 
An image of Seonghwa and his bloody knuckles flashes through your mind and your breath quickens, “Is Hwa okay?” 
Mingi’s brows draw together. 
“He’s fine,” San assures you immediately. 
“I saw blood,” You can’t articulate it exactly, the image is just static in your mind. 
“It’s not his blood,” San promises, “we’re all fine, Seonghwa is fine,” 
The sound of the ambulance doors swinging shut makes you jump. 
“Shh,” Mingi squeezes your hand, “you’re safe, you’re with me,” 
Everything in your body feels tense and stretched thin, but Mingi’s hand is solid in yours and you grip down on it, letting it tether you. 
You listen as the ambulance pulls away, your muscles unclenching one by one as the sound of the vehicle fades. 
“Woo,” You manage, “can you check on Hwa for me? And text me?” 
“Yeah,” He assures you, “I got you,” 
“Take a deep breath,” Mingi instructs you, “please, for me,” 
You take a long inhale and meet his eyes and he nods as you let the breath out low and slow through your nose. 
“Again, please,” He nods. 
You breathe again, the same steady pace, “I’m tired,” 
“It’s the adrenaline wearing off,” Mingi tells you, “but as soon as a doctor says you can sleep, you can rest,” 
“Okay,” You nod. 
San’s hand disconnects from yours and he starts to stand, “Yunho’s done,” 
You twist in your seat to see him, Wooyoung stepping out of the way, and you can see Yunho jogging towards the car, “Everything okay?” 
“Mhm,” Mingi keeps himself calm for you. 
“That took forever,” He says, “I’m sorry,” 
“It didn’t,” You shake your head, “don’t be sorry,” 
“You should go,” Wooyoung interrupts, “get her looked at,” 
You find your best friend’s eyes, “You’ll text me?” 
“Of course I will,” He nods, “but right now just focus on yourself. We’re all okay,” 
You nod, and your eyes feel heavy again already. You know they’ll be trying to keep you awake in the car at this rate. 
“Let’s go,” Mingi nods, “can I have my hand back for a minute?” He smiles at you. 
“Sorry,” You drop his hand, almost embarrassed at the way you’re clinging to him. 
“Go,” San ushers Yunho towards the driver’s side, “if you need anything, we’re here,” 
Before you know it everyone’s moving and your car door is shut. Yunho slides into the driver’s seat to your left and Mingi moves into the backseat behind you. 
You meet Wooyoung’s eyes through the window and he rests a hand over his chest. He mouths a simple message - I love you, okay?
You nod and the car starts to move, but you know he knows you love him too. 
Mingi shifts forwards in his seat as Yunho starts to drive, and his long arm reaches around to find your hand again. He laces your fingers together once and this time he doesn’t let go. 
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Later that night, the warm, rich scent of their apartment almost takes you out at the knees when you finally cross the threshold, so overwhelmingly comforting and enveloping that you want nothing more than to bury yourself inside the feeling for days. Mingi nearly runs into your back when you stop short in the entryway and Yunho’s watching you carefully as he hangs up your jackets. 
“What?” Mingi nudges you gently. 
There’s a million things to say. Things left unsaid after your last conversation, that fight you wish you could forget. The letter. All the things you were planning on confessing Saturday. The way you want so badly to erase today and just be with them. Every ounce of their soothing physicality after Minseok brings all your emotions up tenfold. Their tenderness almost chokes you. All the things you want to say are stuck in your throat. You need to get your head on straight. You need sleep. 
“Hey,” Yunho waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, “are you alright?” 
Not really. The hospital was long and awkward, seeing a glimpse of Minseok’s name on a hospital room door even worse, and the police had so many questions that all sounded fairly judgemental. Not to mention the probing questions from the hospital staff about your cycle and if you’re close to pre-heat. As if that matters at all. You settle for something a little less dire though, “I’m fine, sorry, it’s just been a while,” 
Yunho’s ears darken to a deep shade of pink and he nods. 
“You can sleep in my room,” Mingi offers, “like before. We can stay or not stay, it’s up to you.” 
“I’d like to be alone,” You tell them, “if that’s alright,” 
“Of course,” Mingi smooths a hand down your arm, “whatever you want.” 
“Um,” You sigh heavily, “honestly I’m exhausted. I think I might just shower and sleep as long as you don’t mind,” 
Yunho shakes his head, gesturing towards the hall, “Not at all, just… call if you need anything,” 
You start back towards the bathroom, your eyes down and away from them, but Mingi calls out, “You remember where everything is?” 
There’s no way you could forget, and you call back that you’re fine. You got it. You just need to be alone, alone is good, alone feels safe. 
In the shower you scrub your skin raw, spending extra time and attention on your glands even though it makes your skin there puffy and red, pinpricks of blood at the surface of your skin and lilac bruises surrounding every edge. It doesn’t matter how comforting their scents are, nothing is taking away the deep intent of Minseok’s mouth on your neck - and the bitter, burnt citrus smell takes ages to wash away. By the time you finish, you’re about ready to collapse. 
Mingi leaves you clothes again, folded neatly on his bed and ready for you. They’re nowhere to be seen, taking your plea for time alone seriously. He’s laid out a clean pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, both fresh from the wash. The hoodie you had stolen during your heat lies next to it, and it’s a kind gesture, but suddenly you don’t want it. You want nothing. 
You toss the hoodie to the side and start to climb into the bed, but that smells so heavily of cinnamon spice that you can’t think straight. You had just gotten used to blissfully smelling nothing after your shower, and so you strip the bed entirely, discarding all of the pillows and blankets and sheets into the farthest corner of the room. 
The mattress is bare now, but once you turn the circulating fan off you fix the issue of the cold and his scent washing over you every time you try to close your eyes. You can still sense him, sense them, somewhere in the background, but here on the stripped bed in sterilized clothes with your skin rubbed raw, you can rest. 
You drift into sleep this way, your head clear. 
It doesn’t stay that way for long. 
You’re not sure how long you’re asleep before you wake in abject terror, but it must be at least a couple of hours with the sky outside pitch dark and the apartment completely quiet around you. It’s obvious you’re the only one awake, but your brain can’t quite process it right. All you feel is shaking fear and the echo of hands pressing you into the wall, fingers in your hair yanking your head to the side, teeth grazing against your throat. 
You scramble back, only to find the edge of the bed and you collapse off of it, ending up on the wood floor with your head spinning, Mingi’s bedside table lamp crashing down after you, a harsh flash of light pulsing through the room as the bulb breaks and gives one final dying flicker. 
The pleading whine that’s caught in your throat sounds like a trapped animal to your ears, the pounding of your heart threatening to break your chest, blood rushing through your ears like a train. You can’t grasp reality, everything feels hazy and disconnected. 
The door to your right bangs open, Yunho bleary and confused, but responding to your heightened state of fear within a moment. “Mingi!” He calls over his shoulder, “Mingi, get up right now,” 
There’s a faraway faint noise from the other room. 
Yunho skids to your side, careful not to touch you as he tries to meet your eyes in the dark, “Sweetheart, it’s just a nightmare.” 
Part of you knows that you’re awake, safe and home, and not trapped in subspace with a threatening hand in your hair, but you can’t quite grip back to reality. You stutter out a reply, “I-I can’t breathe,” 
“Mingi,” Yunho calls back over his shoulder again, “right now!”
“Please,” you whimper, part of your brain still lodged in the nightmare, “I can’t breathe,” Your hands cling onto the edge of the rug.
Mingi stumbles into the room now, half asleep but forced into consciousness and he’s shaking himself, catching up quickly, “What’s going on?” 
You hear him, but your body is stuck remembering and you feel like there’s a weight on your chest, pressing you down harder, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” you stutter. 
“Sweetheart,” Yunho comes closer now, his body curling around you carefully with his face directly at your side, “it’s a nightmare, you’re safe.” His arms loop around you gently, but stay open in case you need to move.
“I can’t,” you shake your head, images swimming before you. 
“You’re not there,” he tells you, “we’re home, you’re with us, me and Mingi,” 
You wheeze, trying to regulate your breath. 
“Get a light,” Yunho pleads suddenly to the dark room, and you can hear scrambling, “she can’t see where she is, get a light on.” 
Mingi trips over the discarded lamp on the floor, and fumbles back to the lightswitch on the wall near the door, searching for it with his hands but reluctant to tear his eyes away from you. Suddenly the room floods with the overhead light, a stark fluorescent glow, and the black spots across your vision start to clear.
“I have you, I have you,” Yunho repeats, holding you to him. 
Your hand searches blindly for Mingi on the other side of you and he collapses next to you both, taking your hand and moving in to cradle you from the opposite side, “Baby,” he murmurs, “look around, look where you are,” 
Yunho’s hand on your thigh grounds you, and then Mingi softly touches your jaw to draw your gaze to him, “Look at me,” 
Your eyes flick up. He looks tired, exhausted even, his hair a wayward haystack. You blink hard, “What happened to you?” 
“To me?” Mingi’s brow furrows and he glances up past you to Yunho. 
“You need sleep,” You manage. 
Mingi laughs sharply and cups your cheeks, “I’ll sleep later. Can you tell me where you are?” 
“Your place,” You manage, and you feel the nightmare receding back into your mind inch by precious inch, your breath steadying out. 
“Yeah,” He sighs, “Yeah, that’s right,” 
“I’m home with you,” You repeat, your fingers sinking into the plush rug beneath you. 
Yunho swallows hard, fixated on the way you’ve called their apartment home, not their home, for the third time tonight. You watch the flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he lets it pass and so do you. 
Tears well up in your eyes again and you sigh, “I’m sorry about your lamp,” 
“What?” Mingi’s brow furrows, “Who cares about that?” 
“Still,” You manage, “I’m such a mess right now,” 
“If you weren’t a mess I’d be more worried,” Yunho takes your hand in his, squeezing your fingers, “and you can take all the time you need to be a mess, we’re here.” 
You slump forwards onto his shoulder, “I’m… so tired,” 
“Let’s get you back to bed,” Yunho soothes, his voice soft. 
You nod, letting them both ease you up to your feet, but when they turn to the bed Mingi makes a soft, confused noise, “Where?” 
“Oh,” You gesture towards the corner where all his bedding is wrapped up in a ball, “I’m sorry I was just… it was too much,” 
Mingi’s jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck jumping as he swallows hard, and you know he’s holding down so much anger, that someone could have scared you enough that any alpha’s scent became overwhelming, that your fear might extend even to them. 
“Okay,” Yunho cuts in easily, “whatever you want,” 
He eases you back onto the mattress, but the idea that they might be gone again strikes a deep lance of panic through your stomach and you grasp his arm, “Don’t go,” 
“Are you sure?” He murmurs. 
“Please,” You insist, tugging his arm again. 
He eases down beside you, and Mingi crosses to the opposite side of the bed so he can follow suit, sidling up to your back but careful not to touch you until you make it clear that you want him to. You fold your arm underneath your head and rest yourself down, and when your hair shifts off your neck you hear Yunho’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of your tender gland. 
“Baby, what,” He reaches for you, fingertips hovering, “sweetheart, what did you do?” 
“I’m fine,” You murmur but when you feel fingers gently coast over the raw skin you hiss sharply in pain and both their hands pull back. 
“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is low, shaky, and he scoops up your arm to check your wrists, finding them as swollen and bruised, “oh my god,” 
“I know,” You murmur, letting your eyes drift shut. 
“This is not okay,” Mingi sounds pained, “you can’t hurt yourself like this,” 
“I’m okay, I promise,” 
“We could have helped,” Yunho insists, “we could have scented you again, both of us, or called Seonghwa, or something, anything,” 
“Seonghwa?” You start, but Mingi cuts you off as he pushes your hair further to the side to see more of your neck. 
He makes a tight noise with his tongue against his teeth, “These look tender, Yunho’s right,” 
“You scented me plenty,” You shake your head, letting your hair fall back into place, “but I promise, I’m okay,” 
Mingi wraps his arms around you from behind, tucking you close to his chest and dropping his head onto yours, “You’re scaring me,” he confesses into your hair. 
“I know,” You murmur, “but I wasn’t trying to hurt myself,” 
“And now?” Yunho asks softly. 
“I’m a little better,” You pull him closer, “I was overwhelmed earlier and… even you both I didn’t want, but now? I feel safer, clearer,” 
Yunho kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger as you all get your emotions back in check, “Okay,”  
“Can we stay just like this?” You nuzzle into him, pulling Mingi in closer behind you until you’re snuggled up so tight you might overheat . 
“I’ll be wherever you want,” Mingi wraps his hand around yours and tucks them into your chest.
Yunho murmurs his agreement softly and you nod, letting their heat soak into your body and releasing your tense muscles bit by bit. You were supposed to tell them how you felt already, you need to get it out in the open before things get too blurry again, but right now you have to let it go. 
Silence stretches between the three of you, their breathing even and low, and you’re not sure if they’re asleep or awake when you make your quiet plea in the dark but in a whisper you beg them to never, ever let you go again. At least for tonight, they hold you fast.
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shywritersblog · 7 months
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Here are 100 random quotes from Lucifer!
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Sourced from the OM! Wiki, chats, devilgram, screenshots I found, etc. I made this list to help with studying to write the characters in character. (Not really proofread, sorry if there are mistakes. Also, there may be spoilers. If so, they’re minor spoilers)
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​​“Do you want my attention? Why don't we talk for a little then? I have enough energy for that. As your presence is so very soothing to me.“
​​“Heh, not afraid to get sassy with me anymore, are you?”
​​“Let's celebrate until you cannot stand anymore.“
​​“No need to rush. I won't be able to help you if you fall down in the middle of the street. Rather, I would probably enjoy the sight.”
​​“...Well? How do you like Demonus-flavored kisses?“
​​“I believe it's long been established that if anyone's going to be eating them, it will be me.“
​​“If you want me to keep you from running that mouth of yours, you need only ask.“
​​“Are you poking fun at me right now? I see you like to play with fire. Well, there's a punishment for getting cheeky with me like that. Come here, MC”
​​“I am exceedingly concerned…”
​​“Now Listen, and listen well. I will not be your possession. I won’t belong to you. You will belong to me.”
​​“You seem repentant, so I shall forgive you.”
​​“Are you still tired from last night? After all, I didn’t let you get much sleep.”
​​“I will watch over you. Until the day comes where we must part. And I promise... to love you until the end of your days and beyond.”
​​“You... Release me! Don't you dare try to put me to sleep like I'm not ten million years older than you!”
​​“All of you, out of the way...! I'm going to tear that human limb from limb…!”
​​"Are you trying to please me?"
​​"Do you need a goodnight kiss?"
​​"You are a strange human being."
​​"You want me to praise you for that? Very well… Good iob."
​​"Fine, I'll forgive you just this once."
​​"Do you need something?"
​​“It's as if you're saying that you need me in your life, and that's a wonderful feeling. Is it conceited of me to say that? Well, I am the Avatar of Pride, after all."
​​“Stab it with a fork or something. Anything sharp should do the trick.“
​​"I can't say I mind spending my time with you while Mammon's shrieks echo in the background either. Heh! And Diavolo's laughter is even louder than that."
​​“Well, there are worse demons it could have happened to... Probably.”
​​“Asmo, you stay right there. I'll go get my whip.“
​​“Hush now. Daddy's here to give you a hug.“
​​“NONONONONONO! I'm saying I DON'T want them to see that picture. So, if they ask you for it, I'd like you to tell them that no such photo exists. OK?”
​​“That won't be necessary. I went ahead and blew it up. The entire room.“
​​"If you want to get the better of me, that toy of yours isn't going to cut it. Perhaps try lethal poison from some horrific insect, aged a thousand years for maximum potency."
​​“I know, I know... But why don't we save the killing until after you've eaten your breakfast, hm?“
​​“Mmm, nothing's sweeter than listening to their screams of agony. Heheheh...”
​​“Bring him down to the living room. Use whatever means necessary…though I do want him alive.“
​​”I would never have imagined I would be kissed on the cheek by you. I don't dislike it when you take the initiative. But why on the cheek? You don't need to hesitate with me. Next time, do it on the lips. Understand?”
​​“Hell coffee becomes bitter when you prepare it for someone that you're fond of. It's a special property of the coffee beans. Naturally, I drank every last drop of your feelings.”
​​“Only those that haven't been involved in that dolt's childish antics are the truly happy ones.”
​​“When I get my hands on him, I'll have to be thorough with my discipline.”
​​“Tomorrow I will be handing Diavolo a report detailing how all of the exchange students are faring. I'll be sure to stress how excited you are to continue your education here at our prestigious academy.”
​​“How's the Celestial Realm? Unlike the Devildom, you don't have to worry about anyone grabbing you and eating you for lunch there, do you?”
​​“You've got Solomon with you as well, so you should relax and enjoy your time there.“
​​“If only my brothers were as obedient as you are. It is not every day that you get the chance to have me indebted to you. You can expect a one-hundred times return on the investment of your time, that I promise. In return, I expect that you won't let me down.”
​​“How naive. If you don't want me to have wasted my time by informing you, be sat in your seat at the table within the next sixty seconds. It will be just you and me. Let us enjoy the rare breakfast together before my brothers ruin the atmosphere.”
​​“Don't get cocky, MC.”
​​“One spoke at length about the clothing on the Diavolo sticker. It waxed lyrical about how exquisite the design choices were.”
​​“However, I discovered a slew of insults written in invisible ink on the page.“
​​“How could you tell? You really know me well, MC! Hehehe. I was drinking Demonus with Diavolo earlier. And you know, he kept saying all these nice things about you... Let me tell you, I'm also really happy you're down here with us.”
​​“…Who even came up with the idea that whoever empties their bottle first, wins...? Oh, right. I did... My bad. Ah, my head is spinning. Good night MC. Love you.”
​​“Ugh, you thickheaded fool of a demon! What's your skull made of? Granite?”
​​“That's a curse meant to make you stub your toe on the leg of a table… But if you actually do stub your toe, it hurts quite a bit.”
​​“MC. It has come to my attention that Mammon and Asmo took you out for a drive recently. Well, how was it? Enjoyable? …I'm glad to hear it. We all need breaks from the daily grind from time to time. l'd like you to join me for a drive next time. I'll give you a taste of euphoric freedom that those two could never dream of. Prepare for the time of your life.”
​​“If you'd like, we could take a shower together.”
​​“After all, I haven't managed to seduce you yet. I'm going to need more time.”
​​“The three highest-ranked demons in the realm, frolicking about in a frivolous pajama party? How absurd.”
​​“I didn't hear a word you just said. I know nothing about it, and I'm going to keep it that way.”
​​“I see. Then I should be allowed to take a similar photo of you, no? Come stay over in my room again tonight.”
​​“Don't be stupid. I will not allow myself to be clad in demon garb. I'm going to strip off every last piece of it this very instant and fling it as far away from me as I can.”
​​“You're a demon. I'm surprised someone like you is able to feed me lines like that with a straight face. You've got some nerve.”
​​ “Heheheh. Well, he is my brother, after all, so I thought I'd go easy on him. So, should I make this quick, or go slowly, bit by bit? Your choice.”
​​ “So, tell me. what's with the Little D.? The one looking at me with that moronic expression...”
​​“You think you stand a chance against me?! You think you could defeat Lucifer, Avatar of Pride?“
​​ “Well, aren't you persistent. I suppose you won't be happy until you've pummeled the door senseless?”
​​“...Just what were you hoping to accomplish by knocking me down like this, hm? Because doing something like that to me, right now… is making it much harder for me to control myself...!”
​​“Given that you were the one who pounced first, you can't complain when the tables are turned, can you? …I'm so thirsty, I can hardly think straight. I trust you understand what that means.”
​​ “To show my thanks, I suppose I'm not against giving you some special treatment. You'll have to come closer. I'll give you my lap until you're satisfied. ...You'll keep me company until then, won't you?”
​​"You deserve a thank you."
​​ "Sorry, this isn't exactly my cup of tea. I was hoping you'd know me better."
​​"It appears to me you know what pleases me."
​​"Are you really trying to tickle me? Heheheh, you'll have to do much better than that."
​​"Pff...if you think that tickles, you're wrong."
​​"Well, if you insist on touching me, then be my guest.”
​​"Well, hello. How are things?"
​​"You've got some nerve keeping me waiting. Well now, what are you going to do about it?"
​​"I'm back. Hm? ...Did you miss me?"
​​"*sigh* I've had a long day. But seeing you has a way of making me feel better."
​​"Sorry, I had some business to take care of. Well, well, you certainly seem happy to see me."
​​"Done? Let's continue this in my room."
​​"Good night... We'll meet again in our dreams."
​​ "I feel like we both have a nice day ahead of us."
​​ "I enjoyed our time together. Perhaps we should do this again."
​​“You do know what I'm capable of... don't you?"
​​ "Happy Easter. Will you accept it, my little bunny?"
​​"Once you're officially a sorcerer, I'd like you to become powerful enough to shut up Solomon for me."
“Very well. Here I go. Lucifer Kick!”
“Why should I be subjected to the indignation of a pat on the head from you?”
​​“After all, it's a bit like tossing a helpless lamb into the middle of a pack of hungry wolves, isn't it? But it's also important to understand just who it is you're eating, wouldn't you say?“
​​ “It means that I see you as prey, too. Just like the others. It goes without saying that I'm far stronger than you. If I were to pin you down right here and now, you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, now would you? How about we give it a try...?“
​​“You will soon enough.”
​​ “When a vampire feeds, it's not like his human prey feels only pain. Quite the opposite, actually. They're overcome with a feeling of unimaginable ecstasy. The truth is that you want this as well, don't you? You want to feel my arms around you, to give yourself up to me and offer up your blood... You're special. I won't drink you dry...no. I'm going to kiss you again and again, all over your body. Indulging in you just a bit each and every night. And I do mean every night. No other vampire will ever know the taste of your blood…”
​​“Do you have any idea how hard I had to struggle not to do this earlier...? It was all I could do to resist throwing my arms around you right in front of everyone at the party.”
​​ “MC… I missed you. I can tell just from the way you feel against me. I can sense what you're feeling.I'm sorry, MC. ...Sorry it took me so long to get to you. You should really stay with me tonight. We need to make up for all the time lost.“
​​ “You're drunk, you idiot. Oh well, I'll go along with you just for today. Bottoms up.”
​​“Me? Intoxicated? Preposterous. I'm my usual old self.”
​​“You are also fond of me, no?“
​​ “Then come over here. Are you holding back? Come closer. Prepare yourself. If I win, I get to do with you as I please.”
​​“You know there is no turning back after the first pillow is thrown, right?”
“As a demon, I've never cared when humans bred…”
​​“Stop unnecessarily stressing me out. You're shaving years off my life here.”
​​ “I don't mind. If I am not allowed to nag, then I can simply beat these rules into you.”
​​“Is this how you all amuse yourselves? By sending photos of your exposed body parts?”
​​ “Good grief. I need eyes everywhere to keep track of everyone.”
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Extras! (It's hard to pick just 100 y'know?)
1. ​​“Leading unhealthy lifestyles, frittering away your time and money… The extent to which you all squander your lives away is quite intolerable to watch.”
2.​​ “Put two or more of you together, and you start getting ideas in your head. Bad ideas.”
3. “The next time one of you puts so much as a toe out of line… I'lI march you all up your beloved Mt. Imminent Death, and ensure that you NEVER return.”
4. “So as an extra bonus, I'll tickle you...”
5. “How nice that you're not letting our large underground gambling problem spoil your fun...”
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✧༺⚜️༻✧
𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉
𝒮𝒽𝓎 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 ༝༚༝༚
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kentucky-fried-thea · 1 month
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Are Santa's elves being abused?
@cuntvonkrolock and I got into a friendly argument over whether or not Santa was an abusive boss.
Victor's argument was that the elves could not possibly make enough gifts a year, as there are 8 billion people on the planet, and even if he was using Christmas Magic, that would be use of performance enhancing drugs, and therefore still not ok.
My argument was that it entirely depends on how many elves Santa actually has.
Well, I'm autistic, and have taken math through calculus, so I decided to crunch the numbers.
Victor googled it, and apparently Santa has around 110,000 elves. The linked article also states that calculations have been done surrounding this problem, but the calculations are quite flawed in that they are missing some very large numbers.
We decided that around age 15 was when you started receiving gifts not from Santa, but from your guardians, so that is the number we are using.
A quick google search says that there are about 2 billion kids 14 and under on the planet. Now, not all of those kids celebrate Christmas.
According to reindeerland.org, only about 32% of people actually celebrate Christmas. That means that the number of children receiving gifts is now whittled down to 32% of 2 billion: 640 million.
But some kids don't believe in Santa at all, and just get their gifts from loved ones. Google says that about 83% of kids are taught to believe in Santa, so we can shave off 27%. That leaves us with 531,200,000 kids.
But, that doesn't take into account the Naughty List.
You can find Santa's official Naughty and Nice List on the official website for the Department of Christmas Affairs. My autism knows no bounds, so in order to get a full count of how many kids are on the Naughty List, I scrolled through the entire List, ensuring that every name had loaded, and did a search command for how many times the word 'Naughty' was mentioned. I also found some very interesting names along the way.
Exactly 31,700 names are on the List, with each name only occurring once. Exactly 15,350 of these names were on the Naughty List. The word Naughty no longer looks like a word.
Since each name was only listed once, it is obvious that this is a general approximation for the amount of children on the Naughty List. The approximation being, 48.4227129% of children are on the Naughty List. I am never typing the word Naughty again.
Now, we know that 48.4227129% of 531,200,000 is 257,221,450.925 and that 531,200,000 - 257,221,450.925 = 273,978,549.075. Therefore, that is the number of kids receiving gifts from Santa.
Time to bring back my first number, 110,000 elves. 273,978,549.075/110,000 = 2,490.7140825, which gives us about how many gifts an elf makes a year. You should work around 260 days in a year to have a healthy life, so we can divide that by 260.
2,490.7140825/260 = 9.57966954808, which we can round up to 10.
Therefore, in a day, an elf must make around ten gifts.
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mediumgayitalian · 19 days
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fic rec friday 11
hi!! welcome to fic rec friday (i know it's tuesday that's my bad 💀). every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!
and if you're warm, then you can't relate to me by remrose
They get stuck outside from a 3AM fire alarm. “I call it the ten-pound-quilt.” Will winked like it was a secret, coming to a stop in front of Nico. “I lent it to one of my siblings once and he said it was like being suffocated by a wet cement pancake. I love it."
will 'problem causer and embarrassed about it' solace so so real. this fic is also stellar bc nico is lowkey aware how much will likes him. that is how the dynamic should be i think.
2. Those walls I built didn't even put up a fight by @sazandorable
"Is it morally okay to stab a medic with their own scissors?" Nico asked Cecil. (Not that he usually cared about morally okay, as Octavian might demonstrate.) Nico's three days in the infirmary go by faster than he'd thought, and Will just won't stop flirting.
bruh this fic made me LAUGH. it wholly deserves the nearly quarter million hits it has jfc. i 100% clicked for the 'jason is a very embarrassing and very supportive ally' tag and it TOTALLY lived up and it was hilarious. he is. will's characterization was SO SO good and the whole fic just had me giggling!!
3. this is my kingdom come by remrose
Five times Nico and Will pretended they were dating. College AU.
the slow and unnoticeable slide from fake dating to real dating. fucking kills me every time. like oh yeah maybe i do love you. maybe you are everything to me. maybe i do want to spend the rest of my life with you. maybe loving you is this easy. GOD. god. insert seinfield gif her bc it fucking gets to me alright. it gets to me.
4. Days Gone By by @ghostystarr
Everyone was afraid of him, the boy who could talk to ghosts. Will just really wanted to know if his goldfish was haunting him every time he used the bathroom. AU Solangelo.
i am a sucker for childhood friends to lovers alright. and modern au with medium nico is art. so what if it is on the nose. it is amusing. and posting this ghosty ass fic on halloween the year solangelo came out is fucking camp idc this author ate up.
5. Patience and Patients by skyrat
Will Solace didn't mean to get a crush on the most exasperating demigod he'd ever met. But once he started watching Nico di Angelo he couldn't turn away. The lines between intentions and feelings got blurred. But how do you tell if the guy you like feels the same way when he's never around?
will having a crush on nico for a thousand years is literally my favourite trope like i love him actually. his pining ass will never get old! it will never get old. i will never get tired of reading it. also this is unrelated but i read this for the first time the day it was posting, which was the Day after i turned twelve lol time truly flies.
thank you for joining me this saturday tuesday sh don't worry about the actual date friday!! happy reading!!
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daytaker · 23 days
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The Gang React to Weed
Happy 4/20, here's a thing.
(I'm imagining that demons have the same reactions to weed that humans do. I don't think they actually would have the same reactions, but theoretically...)
Oh, and to make my own bias clear: I'm not a fan, personally. I can't think about weed without thinking about the smell. The stink. So I'm not sure if the focus on the smell in these comes off as weird or not, but it's so powerful in my mind, it must be addressed.
Lucifer hates weed. Don't call that the Devil's lettuce, he wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. It smells like skunk. It's revolting. Don't use it in his house. Don't use it in his presence. Don't use it. It's antithetical to everything he believes in.
Mammon...would stone. I see him as someone who uses one of those vape pens on the DL (not nearly as smelly, so much safer to use in the House of Lamentation) but he'd also like gummies and weed brownies. Being stoned is just fun. It's pleasant. It's relaxing. Chill out, Lucifer, you're harshing the vibes, man.
Leviathan is nervous about weed. He has this idea that there's a way he's supposed to react to cannabis, and when he doesn't, he feels like there's something wrong with him. He's supposed to feel all chill and groovy, right? So why does he just feel dizzy? Why is he not relaxed? Why isn't he chill?! Why isn't he groovy?!?!?! He probably psyches himself out too much to enjoy it. He's too nervous about the social expectations.
Satan is kind of ambivalent to weed. He doesn't particularly enjoy it. I don't think he'd like feeling intoxicated in general because of the lack of control. But at the same time.... it pisses Lucifer off so much, how can he not appreciate that? He doesn't like the smell either, so if it wasn't for Lucifer, he'd be the one complaining about it, but as it stands, he's perfectly willing to enable his brothers who do like it.
Asmodeus doesn't mind it in moderation, and only in edibles. Again... the smell. He will not tolerate smelling like anything less than a bouquet of roses. He only really uses it socially.
Beelzebub can't have cannabis. And I know you know why. The cravings. You can't just take gluttony and make it hungrier. It Devours. Once, Mammon left some weed brownies unattended, and he was strung up by Lucifer for days, not because he brought pot into the house, but because Beelzebub ate them and went on a mindless rampage through the Devildom, eating his way through various businesses and even a few historic landmarks. Everything was game: stone, dirt, wood, you name it. The bottomless pit just became bottomless-er.
Belphegor likes it. Similar to Mammon, he doesn't want the hassle of Lucifer getting on his case, so he prefers the vape pen, since it's less smelly and also Beel-safe. It makes him feel cozy and relaxed, because if Belphie needs anything, it's something to help him fall asleep more easily.
Diavolo loves it! But since Lucifer hates it, he doesn't use it very often. I actually imagine he and Solomon occasionally hang out and smoke. Only very rarely, because he's much too busy to be fucking off with some tricksy wizard and getting high, but it happens from time to time.
Barbatos is indifferent to it. What's some intoxication in the face of millions of years of experiences and virtual omniscience? It won't affect him. But please, young master, if you must indulge, change your clothes after. The scent has a way of clinging to fabric...
Solomon loves weed! It's so fun. What a great way to take the edge off. Mind-altering substances are very fun for a guy who's seen it all, even if cannabis is relatively lowkey. When he senses that the moment is right, he'll whisk Diavolo away every now and then and hang out in some scenic location while smoking. He has a fantasy that one day, Diavolo will spontaneously suggest they make a pact during such an occasion. It hasn't happened yet.
Simeon isn't interested in getting high. It's not for him, or for any angels, really. I wish I had a more nuanced picture of him for this prompt, but I'm just picturing a meme with Simeon's face saying "Don't get high: get saved."
Luke is a literal child.
"What's that awful smell, Simeon?"
"Oh, that's just some Devil-grass burning. Some demons enjoy the sensations inhaling the smoke causes."
"Demons would like something like that!"
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comradekatara · 3 months
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sry if u already answered this, but like thoughts on gaang + the girls trying weed for the first time + how they would do it 🙈
the first time suki tries weed she is ten years old. a bunch of the older girls are getting high together, and when none of them are looking she steals their bong. they find her on the bathroom floor hacking up a lung. but once she finally stops coughing she’s like woah this rules…
you may be wondering why i’m listing suki first when i don’t usually do that for these kinds of posts, but since suki is of course the one who introduces every other member of the gaang to weed, it feels only appropriate.
suki gets high with sokka like a week into the start of their relationship. sokka is pretty disappointed tbh. he thought maybe weed would solve all his problems and unlock the secrets to the universe, but in actuality it just made his head hurt. alas
suki then tries to get high with zuko, who flat out refuses. he doesn't like suki, and he's afraid that she can tell (she can) and is in fact trying to poison him. so sokka has to suffer the intolerable Weed Headache all over again so that he can get high with zuko, because he wouldn't feel safe otherwise. "why doesn't he just not get zuko high in the first place?" you may be asking. well it's because suki begged sokka to get zuko high upon her insistence that it would be really funny. and it is.
katara also wants to try weed but suki is like "not until you're older" (she may sound like a massive hypocrite here, but she knows that sokka would kill her if he ever found out that she gave DRUGS to his BABY SISTER!!!!) and even when katara is like "but you're barely older than i am and you've clearly been doing this forever???" suki refuses to budge. eventually, after one million years, katara finally gets to try a hit from suki's special stash, and she's like "yeah, wow, this is good weed. wayyy better than iroh's tbh." to which sokka and suki are both like "excuse me WHAT???!?!?!?!?!"
aang wants in on suki hotboxing the bathroom and is just like "why does it smell like gyatso in here?" to which suki's like "your mentor, the air nomad legend, monk gyatso, was a pothead?" and aang's like "well i don't know about that, but your room smells exactly like the stuff he'd give us to calm us down whenever we got too hyper." at which point suki just shrugs and passes her joint.
iroh is actually the first person to give toph weed. like with that unpleasant katara revelation, suki feels immensely betrayed. so does sokka, for some reason, even though he doesn't even smoke weed. toph thinks it's just fine tbh, but then she discovers that getting azula high is actually the funniest thing ever, and she starts smoking way more, specifically with azula.
azula and toph get high together pretty frequently. sometimes (whenever he catches wind that this is happening) sokka joins them just to chaperone (he's scared of all the damage they might cause with any sort of common sense filter turned all the way off) and also to witness it (it's truly a sight to behold). they mostly just bitch about their terrible families, but their insults are really funny, and they make each other crack up. they have fun together.
suki is really proud of the fact that she's the first person to ever give mai weed. she's like, "wait..... did iroh never...." and mai's just like, "you really think i'd let that old creep push drugs around me?" weed does for mai exactly what sokka had hoped it would. for once in her life she's not hyper vigilant while also being bored out of her mind, but actually kind of chill and happy. sokka is so fucking jealous.
ty lee refuses to try weed, or any kind of mind-altering substances whatsoever. she won't even drink a single glass of wine at dinner. she's convinced that the moment she lets her guard down someone will finally find one of her weaknesses (a real one, not just the ones she advertises on purpose to deflect from her true vulnerabilities) and exploit it. suki, on the other hand, doesn't understand how someone so hot and cool could also be so straightedge. she's constantly trying to get mai to convince ty lee to try weed, but mai is just like, "sorry but this is just how she is, there's no changing her." eventually, years down the line, ty lee is finally sufficiently worn down and agrees to try weed once with suki and mai, but that they must first shut all the doors and close the blinds and promise to never let her out of their sight. it goes...fine? she's never tempted to try it again, but at least now she knows, and that's that.
bonus: no one knows this, but it wasn't actually gyatso who gave aang his first joint. it was bumi.
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nsyncat · 1 month
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OK, so this is my first post EVER since I joined Tumblr like ten years ago. Always been a lurker, enjoying all of the wonderful things here, the gifs, fics, ships, art, all the knowledge and all the amazing heritage posts, but never posting and hardly reblogging, I don't know why, was always afraid I would make a mistake or reblogg incorrectly...
Anyway, the reason this is my first time posting is because THAT amazing moment that happened a week ago, and I've been losing my mind ever since, and unfortunately I have nobody to share this excitement with that will understand... So I had to get it out somehow, and here seems like the perfect place to do so.
I don't know if anybody will read this or pay it any attention, but never mind, I just have TO. GET. IT ALL. OUT!
So I've been a loyal fan of 9-1-1 this past six years, got hooked to these kind of first responders dramas, also Station 19 and then of course Lone Star. I fell in love with the writing, the drama and action, the characters of course, the emotional and moving stories, both of the regular cast and the people in the emergencies (am not afraid to admit that I cried more than a few times, especially when I was pregnant... woooh, that was a tough season for me).
Anyway, like everyone else, got invested in Buck's storyline and of course hopped on the Buddie train in season 2. And obviously there was something between them, and the fandom always clowned themselves that "in the next season SOMETHING is going to happen!" and I always wanted to believe it, and also fooled myself a few times but always was the cold harsh realist and realised it was not going to happen... But enjoyed the ride nonetheless, read amazing fics, saw wonderful fanart, read interesting breakdowns and analysis.
And then 704 happened and I'm not joking or exaggerating, my life changed!
Confirming that Buck is Bi was amazing! I'm ashamed to admit that I really thought it won't happen, EVER! So I still can't believe it actually happened (thank you soooo much ABC!) and like a lot of you, I've been on cloud nine this past week and can't wait for tomorrows episode (also not from the US), literally counting down the hours.
And look, I love Buddie, I really do, but I fell in love with TEVAN (my favourite one yet) 😍 and been OBSESSED with them this past week. Just from those few moments between them and what we barely know that is going to happen the next episode, I truly fell in love with them and really hope they make it as far as they can. I think its an amazing thing for Buck and also CANT. STOP. WATCHING THE KISS! The actors did an incredible job, especially Oliver, also with his spoken support of the storyline and his love for Buck. Such a KING! So this whole thing is huge.
And I have a one-year-old, my life is hectic with taking care of a little human being, a hubby who is also very busy, work, family and a million other things and this past year with a heavy heart I kinda neglected reading fics, and it was my main hobby, my escape, my one and constant thing in my LIFE since I was 12. I do read here and there, but not like I used to, reading hours and hours and into the night, multi chapters and long oneshots, in multiple fandoms, and now whenever I do get to read something once In a blue moon I'm not fully invested or enjoying it because either I'm tired or have something else more important to do. And unfortunately, eventually I noticed that I lost this fire, the passion in me and it left me sad and heartbroken...
And then something incredible happened. Ever since that earth-shattering kiss, the fire and passion came back! Holy shit! I've been reading and ENJOYING fics nonstop this whole week, I can't concentrate on work thinking about everything and reading in-between tasks, I use every single free minute I have to search new fics and scroll through the tags, I go to sleep late because I need to read just one more fic(!!!) even tough I have to wake up very early in the morning and I DON'T EVEN CARE. I'm thinking about it sooo much and imagining new scenarios in my head, and feeling giddy and happy, in a good mood a lot of the time, more optimistic, knowing I have a new and exciting place I can "escape" to, like I had in the past.
Its not that i'm not happy, I have an amazing son and a wonderful husband and I cherish every moment with them, but these are hard and difficult times and life can be hard and stressful and I'm a different kind of happy... So these past few days have been nourishment for my soul and my mood, it sounds so silly but its true! I'm feeling a bit like my old self and it's amazing.
And if someone did read this or did pay attention and got to this point, sorry for the long rant and thank you so much for the patience and understanding 🙏 I love you and wish you a wonderful weekend and happy Buck's-first-date-with-a-man day! 🥰
So I want to thank, from the bottom of my heart, ABC, Oliver, Lou and you crazy lot for resurrecting my old fangirl self 😌 I'm so grateful for all your posts, your takes, your similar enjoyment and of course your amazing fics you're writing and sharing 🩵
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dameronology · 1 year
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love in an elevator (natasha romanoff)
summary: nothing will make you confront your ex like being trapped in a lift with her
warnings: language
eugh two natasha fics in a night?? no regrets. i love my wife. enjoy.
jazz xx
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The key to a break up, you had come to learn, was distance.
Distance and space and time apart and whatever other bullshit it was that Vogue recommended every week. Maybe a glass of wine or two here and there, and a night out with your closest friends. You'd cycled through that process ten times over but getting distance from Natasha Romanoff felt near enough fucking impossible when she was quite literally everywhere. At work, in the office, at the Avengers HQ, in the streets. New York had become a thousand times smaller after your break-up.
Seeing her at work was unavoidable. After all, that was how you'd met. Natasha was easy enough to get on with back then; she was blunt and straight to the point but it was clear she cared deeply about the people she loved. You never imagined being one of them yourself, but when she'd asked you out after a few weeks of casual flirting and longing glances, it was hard to remember a time when you weren't. And not only were you somebody she loved, you were the person she loved most. The person she wanted to come home to everyday; the one she laid herself bare too and would have stopped at nothing to make you happy.
It had been a good year and a half. All smiles and a few rocky days here and there, but you never wanted to leave Natasha's side. She'd never pictured buying herself a ring for anyone, or even considering the idea of marriage, but the day she proposed had been the best of your life. Multiple promises had been made that day. I'll love you forever and I'm never taking this ring off.
Promises, as it was, were made to be broken.
Work got hard for both of you. Missions and long trips apart and your relationship basically becoming long distance. Each factor a tiny nail in your coffin but Natasha Romanoff would have been lying if she said she wasn't the one building said coffin and holding the fucking hammer. Because for every day she spent away from you was a day that she took a step back to her old ways. She became a closed off woman all over again, shutting you out and refusing to talk.
You'd have been a fool to let her treat you that way. Leaving was hard but like hell were you going to let her drag you down with her. She'd lost herself and now she'd lost you too.
Your break-up had been a wake up call. She'd gotten better - gone to therapy, started talking to people again, come back into herself. At that point she could have begged you to take her back, but what use was it? There was no promise that she wouldn't do the same again. The risk of hurting you was too high.
So, Natasha kept her distance and so did you - where you could, at least. Getting into an elevator with her wasn't ideal but you were running late for your meeting and hell, you couldn't wait any longer. That had been your main worry right then -standing next to your ex, wondering if you'd make it in on time- but as soon as the elevator shuddered to a halt and the lights went out, those worries seemed like a fucking vacation.
"Are you kidding me?" you huffed. "Tony Stark spends millions on this building but he cheaps out on the elevators?"
"Hey, it's fine," Natasha said - stoic as ever, but just as jittery as you. Not so much at the situation - it was hard to be worried about being stuck in a lift when you'd fought aliens - but rather at who she was with. "You just gotta press the emergency button-"
She stopped, watching as you began to punch the bright red button multiple times.
"Only once, though," Nat continued. "You don't want to break it."
"Jeez thanks, Natasha," you muttered. "Wisdomful, as always."
"I'm just trying to help."
"Well, you're not!" you snapped. "I'm running late for a meeting and I do not need this right now."
"This being stuck in a lift or this being stuck in a lift with me?"
You huffed. "Does it matter? I don't have time for this."
"We're literally stuck in an elevator," she shot back. "I'd argue you have all the time in the world."
"Fine," you muttered. "I don't like being stuck in elevators at the best of times but being stuck in one with my ex-girlfriend -my ex-fiance, even - is a little less desirable."
She gave you a smile. "There we go."
Natasha gracefully placed her bag down and took a seat on the floor of the elevator. She pulled a book out the front pocket and began to read, clearly not phased by the situation. You let out another loud sigh and threw your own briefcase to the ground, clumsily taking a seat beside her. Her green eyes flickered up from the pages, giving you another smile. This was so you. Making a scene, being over-dramatic at the slightest inconvenience. She'd been the reasonable one in your relationship.
Pulling out your phone, you began to violently type something.
"Who are you messaging?" she asked.
"Why do you care?"
"Because you're about to crack your phone screen with how hard you're typing."
You rolled your eyes. "I'm messaging Tony to let him know what a dickhead he is."
"I don't think Tony's to blame-"
"- look, Natasha. My morning is ruined and I'm going to get so much shit from Fury for missing this meeting that I need to let it out, okay?" you cut her off. "Sometimes, it's just easier to have someone to blame."
"Do you blame me for our break-up?"
Your brows shot up, eyes widening. Okay, you hadn't expected that question. There hadn't been much conversation about your break-up. You'd just told Nat you were leaving and she hadn't argued. Even when you wanted her to - even when you were ready to beg and implore and beseech for her to want you to stay - you'd stayed quiet.
"W-what?" you stuttered. "No, of course not."
"Are you sure?"
"There are a lot of things in that situation that I'm not sure of but that isn't one of them," you insisted. "I don't blame you or me or anyone. I mean...yeah, you coulda tried harder but - why are we even talking about this?"
Natasha shrugged. "Like I said, we're stuck in a lift. Seems like a sign from the universe to ask this stuff."
"Right," you replied. "No, I don't blame you and no, I don't hate you and yes, I forgive you for anything you think I might be holding against you. Any more questions?"
"Do you miss me?" she quietly asked. "I miss you."
"All the time, Nat," you said. "Sorry I iced you out."
"You did what you had to," Natasha reasoned. "And quite honestly, I iced you out first, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did."
'I think...I think that losing you was the wake-up call I needed," she admitted. "For what it's worth, you're the reason I got better. The reason I am better."
You shrugged. "It's just what I do."
"Yeah, okay," Natasha laughed. "One more question -do you hate me for not calling you?"
"Yeah, a little," you said. "I guess some part of me always hoped that there was still a chance for us."
"Maybe there is."
You glanced over at her, eyebrows raised. "You think so?"
"I know so."
"Okay," you replied. "Dinner tomorrow night then?"
Natasha nodded, glancing back down at her book. "Yeah, sounds good."
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alinataylorsversion · 5 months
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Sleepless Nights
Tom Blyth smut
Warnings: Smut,fingering,oral sex(fem receiving),choking,insomnia.
Word count: 3,342
I couldn't have asked for a better life with Tom. We met on the set of The Hunger Games, started dating shortly after that, and we've been living together for two years now. Life was perfect. Up until Tom took a job offer, that included him being on the other side of the country most of the time.
Tom has been away for work for three weeks now. This wasn't the longest you've gone without seeing him due to this job, but that doesn't make it any easier. But today is the day he comes home.
It's about noon right now and I just got out of the shower. I'm supposed to be picking up Tom from the airport at two. To say i'm excited, is an understatement. You have no idea what loneliness feels like until you have to go weeks on end without seeing the person you love. To have to sleep alone every night, in the bed that you're meant to share with the one you love.
As I stare at myself in the mirror while getting ready. I notice the dark circles under my eyes. I spend most of my time ignoring them, considering people tend to think I am inconsiderate when I clarify that the only reason I can't sleep at night is because my boyfriend isn't home. There are bigger problems I could have than missing my boyfriend. So I hide it. I know Tom will notice right away, which is why I apply extra makeup underneath my eyes.
The airport is a fair drive away, so I tidy my things, and get ready to leave, Considering I plan to stop and grab coffee for Tom and I on the way.
Being with a movie star definitely had its perks, considering I just walked out of a million dollar house and I'm about to step into a 2022 range rover. It almost makes me feel guilty having problems with him being away so much.
Driving on the freeways always scares me. Which is why when Tom is here, i'm never the one to drive on long journeys like this. I change lanes and start to exit the freeway, to the street that conveniently has a Starbucks, and leads to the airport. Once I have both my go to refresher, and Tom's favourite, an Iced oat milk latte, I drive the last five minutes to the airport.
As much as it sucks, there is no point in me leaving the car once I get there. Tom flies private, there is no luggage claim, or anything like that to wait for him at. He will simply walk off the plane and head to the parking lot, where I am waiting for him.
His plane was supposed to land ten minutes ago, so he should be coming around the corner within the next fifteen minutes.
When I see him, I kid you not, a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. He's walking towards the car, bags in hand, as I get out of the car and run up to him. Before I even get there, he is dropping his bags and opening his arms to wrap around me.
As soon as I enter his warm embrace, I break.
Tears flowing down my cheeks, soak into his sweatshirt. His arms wrapped around me feel like home.
"Don't cry, love," He whispers into my hair before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I only wrap my arms tighter around him.
We stand like that for a couple minutes before he pulls away and takes my face in his hands. I bring one of my hands to rest on top of his. Just then do I notice there are also tears forming in his eyes as well. He leans down and kisses me like his life depends on it. His lips move perfectly in sync with mine. He kisses me like he has been starved for weeks and just now he is getting the relief he needs.
All I want at this moment is to be home with him. Just the two of us in our own space where I can be myself again and not put on a show for everyone else. I kiss him with just as much hunger as he does to me. His tongue enters my mouth and I almost forget where we are for a second while his tongue caresses mine.
Not only have I been so physically distanced from him, I've felt so emotionally far as well. At this moment, I have never felt closer to him. Like i'm giving him all my emotions through our kiss.
A few moments later, he attempts to pull away, but I don't let him. My hand on the back of his head pushes his lips back to mine. He laughs through our kiss and pulls away again.
"Love you have me all to yourself again, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." His hands slide down from my face to my hips. "Let's go home, then you can kiss me all you want," He chuckles.
I look down at my feet and smile, The blood rushed to my cheeks. He leans down to grip the handle of his suitcase, and grabs my hand as we walk back towards the car.
He places his suitcase in the back, and goes to the drivers seat without me even having to ask him to drive. I take my seat on the passenger side, and he reaches over to place his hand on my thigh, giving it a small squeeze.
I lean over the smallest bit and wrap my own arms around his that is reached over to grab my thigh. My head rests against his arm as well. He smiles at me and leans down to kiss my forehead. I can see the blood rush to his cheeks. I love the fact that all this time later, I can still make him blush.
"I love you," I whisper into his arm.
" And I love you more," He puts the car into drive and we start the trip home.
I don't let go of him the whole ride home. And his hand doesn't lift from my thigh once. Not even to drink his coffee, he would take his hand off the wheel to do so. Even though that definitely isn't safe.
Once we got home, Tom placed his suitcase in our bedroom and came back out to find me waiting patiently for him beside the kitchen island.
He comes over and wraps his arms around me, while I bury my head into his chest. "You okay?" He reaches down and pushes a piece of my hair behind my ear.
"I missed you so much," I whisper, pulling away from him to rub my eyes.
" Well I'll tell you what, Tonight we can do whatever you want. You want to stay home and cuddle, perfect. You want to go rob a bank, i'll go buy ski masks." He smiles as he tries to make me feel better.
"I just want to cuddle with you," I admit.
"Well let's both go get into some comfier clothes, and we can order takeout for dinner, and watch that Taylor Swift tour movie you love so much." He says, knowing I couldn't say no to that.
"Chinese?"
"I wouldn't expect anything else." He laughs at my sudden enthusiasm. "And then we can have a bath later, and open up a bottle of wine while we're in there"
"Okay" I look up at him, and lean in to kiss him before going to change.
An hour later we're cuddled up on the couch, my head in his lap, while he plays with my hair. It takes everything in me not to fall asleep in that moment. The next minute, the doorbell rings, alerting us that the delivery guy is here. Tom gently lifts my head from his lap to go retrieve the food.
When he comes back, I'm sitting up waiting for him. He places the bag on the coffee table in front of us, opening it to grab the food and hand me mine. I give a quiet "thanks" and begin to eat as the Taylor Swift Reputation tour film plays in the t.v.
We sit in silence as we eat. My legs bent to the side and my knees slightly on top of his thighs, trying to get as close to him as possible.
He chuckles softly, clearly seeing what i'm trying to do. He places his container down on the table, and reaches his arms around to grab me and move me into his lap. He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and places it over our legs, and my middle. He then continues eating, and I lean the side of my body back against his chest, and continue eating as well. We stay cuddled up while we eat, and for a few minutes after we finish.
Eventually I turn my head up to bury my face into the crook of his neck, while wrapping my arms around his torso. His arms immediately tightened around me, holding me close. I gently place a kiss on his neck, and another.
Tom pulls back to take my face in one of his hands, and leans down to press a soft kiss against my lips. I'm not one to immediately want to have sex when him and I are cuddled up, or being intimate in general, but right now all I want is for him to keep kissing me. He keeps the kisses soft and gentle. I made up my mind as I brought my hand to the back of his head and deepened our kiss, my tongue brushing against his lips, as if asking for permission.
In response, his tongue slowly brushes against mine, and mine enters his mouth. I can feel him smiling through the kiss and he pulls away slowly, his hand coming to the side of my neck to gently hold me in place.
"Are you sure, baby? We can just cuddle if you want, we don't have to do anything," He says as he makes immense eye contact with me.
I don't care about my dignity at that moment, even though I never have to with Tom. I take his hand that was resting on my lower thigh, just above my knee, and bring it higher up on my inner thigh in response. The side of my head goes to rest against his shoulder as I look up at him, and his hand that was once on the side of my head now wraps around my shoulders. "I want you to touch me."
He glances down to where I moved his hand, and looks back up at me before leaning down to kiss me again. He goes to wrap his arm around my torso and moves me to straddle his lap, his hands resting on my hips, still kissing me. I move even closer to him as my hips move forward to rest on top of his growing bulge, Which causes him to tighten his grip on my hips, and inhale sharply.
My hands go to his hair, as I run my fingers through it. Both our tongues fight for dominance, but I quickly let him take the lead. My hips grind down into his, causing him to take a sharp breath in, and me to let out a small whine, which is quickly masked by his tongue making its way back into my mouth.
All of a sudden, he is picking me up, standing with my legs wrapped around his waist, and he carries us to our bedroom. I lean down and press kisses against his neck, my tongue softly brushing against the skin there.
Once we get to our bedroom, Tom slowly lays me down on our bed as he continues kissing me. He moves so that he is on top of me, and starts trailing kisses down my neck. I turn my head to give him better access as he goes lower down my body, slowly lifting my shirt and placing kisses all around my navel. He leans back to sit on his knees, one on either side of me, and slowly reaches to pull my shirt up over my head.
Before he has the chance to lean down to kiss me again, I lead up and reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, only breaking eye contact when the shirt does it for us. I toss the shirt to the right of me, off the bed, and move backwards on the bed so my head rests on the pillows.
He stays in between my legs, his hands both on my outer thighs as they're spread for him to fit in between. He reaches down to undo the string tied up on the waistband of my sweatpants. He goes to pull down my sweats and I lift my hips to help him.
Once my pants are off, he leans down and continues pressing kisses around my navel, slowly bringing those kisses lower and lower. He presses a kiss directly below the white bow sitting on the waistband on my underwear, right above my clit.
I can now feel the wetness between my legs and I know he can tell just how wet I am, even above my underwear.
All of a sudden, his tongue softly brushes against my clit above me underwear, causing me to grind my hips up against his face. "Please Tom, stop teasing me," I beg him as he looks up at me and places a kiss right on top of my clit while making direct eye contact with me. I slightly throw my head back as my jaw drops and my eyes roll back. I hear him chuckle before he moves back to grab the top of my panties and pull them down my legs.
Once they're off, he leans down to kiss me, and brings his hand down towards my core. His fingers lightly brush against my wetness.
"You're so wet for me," He says in between kisses. His fingers continue to explore my wetness before he slowly pushes one of his fingers inside me, curling it to hit my g-spot perfectly.
My lips part from his as my jaw drops and I let out a louder moan than I expected to. My hand reaches up to cover my mouth, but Tom is quick to reach up and remove my hand from my own mouth and place it around his neck. "Don't hide those sounds from me. Let me hear you, love." He adds another finger to the mix and continues curling them against my g-spot.
That makes me lose it, and I let out a loud moan as I grind up against his hand. His thumb goes to rub on my clit, and I throw my head back in pleasure. I get close to my orgasm embarrassingly fast. Tom continuing fingering me while rubbing my clit almost throws me over the edge, but I need more.
"Choke me," My voice comes out high pitched and desperate. "Please. Please choke me," I beg as he leans down and kisses me, hard. His hand comes up to wrap around my throat and he squeezes the column of my throat tightly, like he knows I like. And it pushes me over the edge as I throw my head back, and my eyes roll back, just as the pleasure takes over, and i'm no longer able to control the sounds coming out of my mouth.
My legs shake as his fingers continue their rough assault against my g-spot, riding me through the blinding pleasure he is giving me. My head fuzzy, and my lungs desperately trying to get air as he keeps his tight grip around my throat.
"There you go. You're such a good girl for me, cumming so hard around my fingers," His hand slightly loosens to let me catch my breath, his fingers slowing their movement inside me as I come down from my high.
I don't know how long I lay there before I open my eyes. But when I do, I'm dressed in one of Tom's shirts, and a clean pair of my underwear, while laying underneath the blankets. I look over to the clock on the nightstand and see that it's just past eight.
I immediately go to sit up, ignoring the slight ache in my abdomen. I head towards the kitchen to see Tom washing the dishes that were left there from breakfast and lunch today.
As soon as I enter the room, Tom drops what he's doing and makes his way over to me. "Hey, love. How are you feeling?" He looks concerned.
"Did I fall asleep?"
He reaches to push a piece of my hair behind my ear, gently cupping my cheek afterwards. "Yea you passed right out. Had me worried there for a while."
I groan as I reach up and bury my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, that was so rude I-," He cuts me off by wrapping his arms around my torso and pulling me closer to him, still making eye contact with me.
"Shhhh. Don't do that. You were exhausted, I could tell."
"That still doesn't give me the right to leave you hanging after you did that for me, especially when you just got home," I explain, my voice distressed.
He reaches up and places both hands on each side of my face, holding it softly. "You were exhausted. It's perfectly fine, you didn't have to do anything for me in return, you know I don't expect that of you every time, my love," His eyes completely softened.
"I know that, I just feel bad," I bury my head into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and scoops me up bridal style.
"Come here, baby," He brings us over to the couch and sits down. "Listen to me. I don't want you feeling bad at all, okay. You are absolutely perfect, and you falling asleep doesn't change that at all. You think I don't see the dark circles under your eyes, Baby you haven't been sleeping. If anything, I'm glad I could finally help you get some rest."
I sniffle and cuddle my head deeper into his chest. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." I all of a sudden start to feel ashamed.
"No baby, don't apologize, you can't control it. Tonight i'll be there with you, and i'm not going anywhere. I'll be right there to sing you to sleep like you love so much."
I look up at him through glossy eyes. "I love you so much" I whisper.
"And I love you more." He leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. "How does that bath sound now?" He asks softly.
"Amazing" I let out, sounding more like a groan than a word. But he understands me nevertheless.
He smiles and lets go of my legs to allow me to stand. "You go get ready and I'll go open a bottle of wine, okay?"
I nod with a smile and make my way to the bathroom to draw the bath. I add Tom and I's favourite vanilla essential oil to the water, along with some bubble bath. Tom comes back with two glasses of red wine and we both make our way into the bath.
We spend an hour talking about sweet nothings, washing each other's hair, and drinking the rest of the bottle of wine before making our way back into the bedroom for bed.
I put on another one of Tom's shirts and opted for a pair of his boxers instead of my underwear. We crawl under the covers and I cuddle up as close as humanly possible to him, practically on top of him, my face buried in his neck.
That was the best sleep I'd had in weeks.
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onlylovingstrangers · 2 years
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HOW OSAMU REACTS TO BEING YOUR CRUSH
"You should definitely consider setting up a social media account for Onigiri Miya. This taste never gets old," you enthuse.
It'd been a long day at work, and you had thought, why not drop in for a snack?
Osamu had seen you through the window and by the time you were settled into your favorite place by the counter, a plate filled with your favorites had been delivered to your seat.
He reaches out now to pick off a rice grain from your cheek. "Stop talkin' with yer mouth full, dork."
"Listen to what I'm sayin', freak," you say affectionately.
"I am listening, idiot."
"So whaddya say? I could help you set it up. I could help you run it!"
I could do this for you, I could do that. You think it's dumb that people clock Osamu for the smarter twin just cause he talks less, because how could someone with even half a brain miss all the hints you've dropped that you are madly in love with him? Even Atsumu has for a few years been aware of your stupid crush on his brother, requiring several bribes to keep his fat mouth shut.
The only explanation you can come up with is that your childhood friend is an idiot.
Then again, you are the one in love with said idiot, which maybe makes you a bit of one too.
Osamu sighs. "Ya make a temptin' offer, but you're already so busy with work — don't even tryta deny that — and ya need to rest."
"Nooooo," you immediately deny, though you both know it's true.
When he shoots you a look, you hasten to add: "Running an Instagram account isn't hard work. Here, look at my photo account, which I update daily. Takes like, five minutes."
You hand over your cell to Osamu, who starts scrolling through the posts. Most of them are of the sky or of a pretty flower, with the occasional selfie. Osamu smiles at your cute poses, ignoring the pangs of jealousy when he sees his stupid brother's comments spamming your page. Instead he snorts at the username. "Where the hell did he come up with msbyatsumurocks?"
"I know. Who the hell does he think he is?" You agree.
Suddenly his fingers still at one of your selfies, which you'd captioned, Amazing day today. Below that, his stupid brother had left a... not so stupid comment.
@msbyatsumurocks: Why, did ya finally confess to my stupid brother?
"You like me?"
The startling question has you choking on rice and seaweed and tuna. The person behind your downfall leaps into action, thumping you on the back with conviction.
When you finally regain the ability to speak, you're prepared to refuse the statement with every thread of your soul, every fiber of your being, but Osamu beats you to the punch.
"And you told Tsumu instead of coming to me?"
"Well," you say with just as much snark, totally forgetting the plan to deny, deny, deny, "maybe if you'd picked up on the millions of signals I put out, like he did, we wouldn't be here! I wouldn't be wearing his fuckin' jersey at every home game just to buy his fuckin' silence!"
"So that's why you wear his stupid fuckin' jersey?" Osamu rubs his forehead, hard. "Well, guess what! I've been buyin' his silence for years! I've been cleanin' up his shit and makin' his dinners and bailin' him out for ten years!"
"Wait. You like me?"
You are suddenly acutely aware of the shop's silence, and so is Osamu.
"Should we find him and kill him?" you suggest, looking up somewhat bashfully.
"And then after... we discuss... us?" he adds, tentatively taking one of your hands in his.
It feels so right, the both of you think at once, and neither of you need to say it.
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phoenixyfriend · 2 years
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Secret Clones AU
Short version: Secret Clones AU is the clones going into hiding in plain sight across the galaxy to force a fair wage and also to keep the babies safe from Kaminoans
The clones figure out the plan to take advantage of them, brain chips, etc. several years before the war hits. IDK how, maybe Jango decided to take a closer look with Mij and went Oh Shit. Doesn't matter. Point is, they caught on and decided that they needed to uhhhhh get Out.
There are millions of clones, yes, but there are tens of thousands of planets.
Once the chips are out and someone's jabbed them with anti-aging serum... they're not that different from standard humans.
And it's not exactly hard to tie up the Kaminoans long enough to get off planet.
So what happens is that a while, let's say a year and a half, before the war kicks off, you have a mass exodus from Kamino, and a wide dispersal of clones. They are generally staying together in groups of about half a dozen, claiming to be brothers, so that there's a 16-18-ish looking clone to take lead, with progressively younger cadets to look after. Each one has a commander they can 'report' to in case of emergency, and if something goes real bad, they can call in an Alpha (and Alphas can call in Jango in a worst case scenario).
It's still sort of a military structure, but... it's a phone tree.
And you have one of these groups of half a dozen clones in every major city. There are thousands of planets, and most of those planets have more than one city. Denon and Coruscant are nothing but city, so they can get counted as dozens of cities on their own. It's easy to disappear in places like that.
It's so easy for the clones, before anyone knows them, to just... disappear. Go into hiding in plain sight.
It's not like more than a handful of people know what to look for.
(It's not like they have a centralized record of who went where.)
(It's just the phone tree.)
They still get real excited-happy-eager when they run into a Jedi.
They want to work with Jedi. They're the good guys! And they're cool!
But your army did a mass desertion before the war started and finding/recruiting all of them is going to take a stupid amount of money. You cannot hire a bounty hunter for each and every clone.
And as @bytebun put it:
Somebody two years later: you look …familiar. Have we met? Clone: haha I get that a lot just one of those faces
AND THEY CAN GET AWAY WITH IT BECAUSE THE GALAXY IS HECKING MASSIVE
I think the Republic has to like… negotiate with Jango and the Alphas and set up paid contracts if they want these Ultra Skilled Warriors to fight for them.
The clones can fight. Some of them even want to fight. They are good at this and they recognize that many of the things that are occurring under Separatist invasion are Mega Bad.
But like. Pay them and treat them as citizens, first.
The Jedi are even more confused about this identical army that really loves them than they are in canon Where the heck did you guys come from Who trained you Why do you like us What the heck is going on
"Someone wanted us to be a trap for you but we took the trap out. Here we have a sample if you want. Anyway. We like you guys and want to fight with you because honestly civilian life is way understimulating. Let me punch a droid."
I think a few of the clones do 'scouting' where they voluntarily help a Jedi in the field to gather information on their validity as Friends. Cody keeps a number of spreadsheets that are just Various Jedi Encounters.
Rex does a scouting mission with Kenobi&Skywalker and just goes to Cody like "Listen. I know he's insane. But. I want that one."
Rex just "I call dibs" "Cody. Cody did you hear me. Dibs, I call dibs."
@catboydogma: stats for pong krell are all zeroes
Absolute shit tier Jedi They play rock paper scissors to decide who has to deal with him
A solid half of the clones don't get recruited because the lack of advanced aging (past a certain point) means they're physically still minors and My Dad (Alphas and CCs) Said No. They stay behind on their various planets to look after The Real Babies.
"Let me ask my dad" "Wait--" "He said no."
Just want these boys to have Civilian Lives they can return to or at least experience before war gets them all fucked up.
I think some of them try to Make Connections with influential people (whether politicians or like... Space Influencers) so they have people vouching for them once the war kicks off. And there can be at least some public pushback on functionally enslaving them.
"I can't believe you manipulated people into liking you! That's so mean!" "Well you see. I wanted to survive past the age of eleven. So."
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Note
Heyy, thanks for the reply!!! I read all of the recommendation and loved them all.
I'm here to return the favor and ask for some more. Recently I read "He liked it so he put a ring on it" by aesthetic_warning, it's a 4+1 fic where Zira and Crowley have been married for a while and the rest (anathema, newt and the them) didn't know. — https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379116 —
I was wandering if you know any fic with that same concept? An established relationship where people around them is slowly figuring that these two are, in fact, together.
Ps: this blog is a godsend 💕
Hello. You'll want to check our #secret relationship tag for more fics along these lines. Here are more to add to the collection...
Five Times Gabriel Almost Caught Aziraphale and Crowley Fraternizing and One Time He Did by AtoTimber (G)
The angel didn’t move. He was lost in thought, stuck staring where the Bentley once was. At least they still had the picnic. “Aziraphale?” A voice rang out across the street. It was then that Aziraphale realized he was staring at a pair of gray slacks. “Oh dear.”
between the lines by midnightfreeway (T)
Aziraphale and Crowley are afraid of Heaven and Hell finding out about their relationship. Crowley thinks they should communicate with letters—and burn them to get rid of the evidence. In theory, it’s the perfect plan, so Aziraphale has no choice but to go along with it.
It turns out to be more difficult than either of them imagined.
Would I Lie to You? by FeralTuxedo & TawnyOwl95 (E)
Anthony Crowley and Aziraphale Fell are rival team captains on popular comedy panel show Don't Lie To Me, where they exchange insults and banter to an audience of millions. But behind the scenes, a whole other game of truth and lies is being played.
A comedy panel show AU
Turn of the Fates by KaytheJay & SparklyTears (M)
Aziraphale was born into a very rich family. However, he is the shame of the family for a number of reasons, though the biggest one is that he is a male carrier. Aziraphale had accepted his fate of being married off to some girl in the name of preserving the Fell family legacy until he bumps into someone who changes his life forever.
South Downs by summerofspock (E)
Blackballed from the industry ten years ago, Anthony Crowley jumps at the chance to star in a new Regency romance miniseries with well-known gay actor Aziraphale Fell in the hopes that it will help him restart his career.
The trouble is, Crowley has played all sorts of characters and for the life of him, he can't figure out why he's struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.
Bigger Than Us by Caedmon (E)
Aziraphale Fell is the widowed minister of a progressive little church in Tadfield. He's settled into a comfortable life since his wife died six years ago, but his world is rocked on its side when he meets Anthony Crowley, who just moved to town and took over a landscaping business.
And the one you mentioned...
He liked it so he put a ring on it by aesthetic_warning (T)
~"Raise your hand if you didn't know we were together,"
Unsurprisingly, almost every hand in the room shot up. ~
Or:
Crowley and Aziraphale help plan a wedding, and along the way find out something very interesting...
- Mod D
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moremaybank · 2 years
Text
BAD NEWS — k.m
pairing klaus mikaelson x fem!reader
summary a fic reminiscing on what it's been like to have spent the past thousand years being klaus's safe space as both his best friend and lover. (based on the song “bad news” by kehlani)
warnings none
author's note lowercase intended.
series ;; klaus masterlist
find the song here!
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i watched you turn yourself to a made man
all the little things that make you
you can count the ways that i stay down
can't nobody tell me i ain't true
y/n y/l/n has been there through it all when it comes to klaus mikaelson. her best friend turned lover and, eventually, husband.
she's seen many sides of him, many of the personas he presented as the centuries went by.
the ten-year-old boy who crafted flower crowns out of every coloured flower he could get his hands on. the centuries-old vampire who hunted relentlessly for the dopplegänger that would free him from his curse. and now, the hybrid who had walked the earth for a millennium, bore a child by miracle and became a father that would do anything to protect his beautiful and powerful daughter.
she was always there for him — even if it meant harbouring the love she had felt for him for centuries — she never cared.
what she did care about, however, was watching her best friend lose himself. the once kind and gentle boy she had befriended at the ripe age of ten chose to hide everything she loved about him — at least when he was in the company of the people who feared him and the enemies he made over the years.
sure, there were glimpses of that sweet boy in him, but he refused to let his guard down, refused to let the best parts of him shine through the cracks of the villain role he bestowed upon himself.
still, that didn't halt her from loving him. it didn't scare her away, never threatened her to walk away.
no matter how heinous his actions proved to be, she never faltered when it came to the hope of his redemption.
he was still in there.
he was just fighting to be acknowledged.
seen.
take a little time from the wild out
you could slow the time down with me, babe
with me, babe
klaus hated to admit it, but he was always the one to allow his fear and paranoia to get the best of him.
so, y/n took the time to coax him; pulling him onto their shared bed, rubbing his back as he vented to her, stroking his face in an attempt to ease the frown plastered on his forehead.
the goal was to get him to disconnect from the world and all the duties he bestowed upon himself. to halt the plans he was concocting to frighten his enemies. to let go of all that troubled him — even if only for a short while.
she wanted them to remain in their own little bubble. a safe and loving space. a sanctuary.
the both of them had been each other's safe haven for a thousand years, and it would always remain that way.
no matter what.
all i want you to know
is i care, you best believe i care
you're out there, don't wanna be out there
no way, you wanna be right here
like always, so when i'm here, i make you wanna
when klaus found himself to be in pure villain mode, he tended to forget that he had people who loved and cared for him.
his inner saboteur told him that no one loved him and that he simply was not enough for anyone. so, y/n made sure he knew that she did.
she constantly proved to him that she would never abandon him. she would fight tirelessly to show him that the fear of losing her was utter nonsense.
if there was anything y/n wanted klaus to know, it was that she wasn't going anywhere.
not in a million years.
give all that shit up
make you wanna give all that shit up
make you wanna spend that time on us
make you wanna give all that shit up
make you wanna leave that world behind
make you wanna see your name on mine
make you wanna give all that shit up
make you wanna give all that shit up
all that shit up
y/n really just wanted klaus to let go. to allow himself to release the dark cloud of anxiety constantly looming over him.
she wanted him to pour all of his energy toward the family they'd started together. to the future they could build for themselves and for the supernatural phenomenon they had been lucky enough to call their daughter.
truthfully, y/n had hoped that the promise of an eternal life together would be enough to deter him from the life he currently led — one full of violence and hatred.
y/n believed in something better for klaus. an existence so bright and optimistic that klaus would never be able to conjure up himself.
don't wanna get no call with no bad news
i know all the stories from your tattoos
y/n was currently lying on klaus's chest. her dainty little fingers traced over the feather and birds etched permanently into his ivory skin. other times, she found herself gazing upon the triangle printed on the back of his shoulder.
klaus's body was something that y/n had taken the time to memorize over the years. she'd educated herself on it time and time again in moments of passion and pleasure. she absorbed every ounce she could of him, so much so that he had become a part of her. a pierce of her that had become vital.
she could never live without him.
so, whenever she contemplated the possibility of losing him, it scared the life out of her. the very last thing she wanted on this earth was to receive news that the man she'd spent an entire millennium loving and adoring would never come home to her.
there would be no more days spent in between the sheets, drinking each other in. no more talks about the future.
she would never be able to kiss the plump and rosy lips she lived for. she'd lose the ability to touch him, to find comfort in his familiar scent and in the steady rhythm of his undead heartbeat.
y/n loved klaus so profoundly that she knew a piece of her would die alongside klaus if he ever did so himself. so she urged him as best as she could. she tried like hell to make him see what she would go through if she lost him. she fought with everything in her to get klaus to understand that if he died, she would die too.
if they with the shit, then you with that too
if they with the shit, you with the—
oh, oh, take your time away from the bullshit
just be on some cool shit with me, babe
with me, babe
as much as klaus wanted to put the constantly-growing fear in his wife's mind to rest, there were still days when he had no choice but to plot against his enemies.
klaus would never admit it out loud, but he wanted to change his violent ways. not just for himself or y/n, but for their daughter. however, this wasn't always a feasible option for him. klaus would do anything to fight for and protect his family. there was nothing that would ever halt him from doing everything in his power to keep his loved ones out of harm's way.
in turn, on those days klaus found himself fighting in honour of his favourite girls, klaus would return home from battle, and y/n would be right there to make everything better.
she'd run a hot bath, climb into the tub with him, and shower him with all the love and affection she could muster.
sure, she didn't exactly love the idea of klaus waging war twenty-four-seven, but she did know that everything he did, he did it with their family's best interest at heart. his adoration for her and his daughter drove him to do the most reckless things, but his actions were always driven by love, and she consistently commended him on that. she was grateful for that.
having klaus love her as fiercely as she did him was a powerful and miraculous thing.
and all i want you to know
is i'm here, if no one else, i'm here
right here, i'm never scared, no fear
no way, when you're with me you're safe
like always, so let it fade and just go 'head and
klaus had his moments when he feared his actions would push his family over the edge and force them to give up on him.
yes, every cruel and harsh act he performed was all in the name of keeping his loved ones safe. but that did nothing to ensure that they would share the same views as him or support his choices.
over the centuries, klaus had wronged his siblings countless times. daggering them time and time again only proved to damage his relationships with them.
they all had their moments when they would choose to walk away from him, but they always came back for him. yet, klaus worried that one day, eventually, he would push them too far, and they wouldn't return.
things were different when it came to him and y/n, though.
y/n never shied away from telling klaus exactly how she felt, especially during times when she disagreed with his often irrational and rushed retaliations. in fact, they would fight for hours about her sentiments. screaming, objects being thrown, the whole nine yards.
but still, she loved him through everything.
there wasn't a thing klaus could do that would cause her to stop believing in his redemption, or make her afraid of him. even when he deliberately tried to push her away. she stayed and chose him every single time.
and for klaus, that was something as rare as the existence of his tribrid daughter. he had never, ever experienced that in his entire life. someone that stood by him, and chose him over everything.
and that's what made things so much harder for him. he despised angering y/n and choosing to go against her wishes, but klaus had to make it clear — if anyone dared to be brave enough to threaten those that klaus held dearly to his heart...they would be met with a cruel, cruel end.
give all that shit up
make you wanna give all that shit up
make you wanna spend that time on us
make you wanna give all that shit up
make you wanna leave that world behind
make you wanna see your name on mine
make you wanna give all that shit up
make you wanna give all that shit up
all that shit up
for centuries now, y/n's arms had been a place of refuge for klaus, and vice versa. after an entire millennium with them by each other's side, it would be surprising if that weren't the case.
that being said, even in times of trouble, klaus and y/n knew that they could always turn to each other.
it didn't matter what harsh words were exchanged between the two. their shared space would always and forever be a safe harbour for them. they could unwind, let go of all their troubles, and feel protected and loved unconditionally.
relationships tend to be tricky, but for klaus and y/n, the obstacles and the hardships didn't matter.
it was their love that did.
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