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#Also shut up I understand if I'm posting this early
sexbot300 · 7 months
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ brat-tamer!toji
authors note: no thots, just him. this is just pure smut, sorry lollllll. need him so bad u don’t understand. with that being said, minors dni, 18+ ! thank you for the love on my first few posts! i appreciate it all of it <3 i'm not ignoring my messages btw, just extremely busy with my studies! ♡
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
brat-tamer!toji who notices you acting up and simply asks, “cranky because you ain’t got dick today?”
brat-tamer!toji who only looks at you with a raised brow and (huge) arms across his chest when you purposely try to piss him off. so cute.
brat-tamer!toji who purposely puts his entire body weight on top of you when you beg him to stop due to overstimulation. he tugs you even closer, just laughing in your face.
brat-tamer!toji who stops thinking coherent thoughts when he sees you in a sundress.
brat-tamer!toji who rewards your good behavior with head (lets you squirt) and also punishes your bad behavior with head (denies you relief, gives in eventually, sometimes).
brat-tamer!toji who loooovessssss shoving your face into the pillow while you whine, pant, and moan. he loves to put your head into a headlock with his bicep, as drool escapes your lips, and you’re babbling like an idiot while he’s hitting it from the back.
brat-tamer!toji who casually lifts you up and fucks you in the air as if just anyone can do it. “such a perfect little pocket pussy,” he snickers.
brat-tamer!toji who gets you cock drunk so often (he’s starting to think that it’s your normal state).
brat-tamer!toji who likes to make you count every time he spanks the fat of your ass when arched up across his lap. slap! “24…” you say with a slight moan, biting your bottom lip in, as he soothes the red outline forming on your cheek. he grins above you, “should’ve known a cock-bent whore like you would take this as pleasurable rather than punishment.”
brat-tamer!toji who makes a safe word with you early on (which you tease him for doing so early, he only tsks because he knows YOU know how much you mean to him and he puts your well-being above anything else).
brat-tamer!toji who has a hidden collection of pictures on his phone with you smiling, his cum decorating your face.
brat-tamer!toji who grips your face in the middle of a make out session, pulling away as he notices your fucked out, panting expression. “open.” you quickly open up your mouth as he slowly lets spit hit onto your tongue. he lightly chuckles. “obedient slut.” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wanting more. “swallow.”
brat-tamer!toji who finds his favorite position to be when his massive balls are hitting your clit and he mercilessly pounds, abusing your little cunt from the back as he strings profanity out of his mouth. or a full nelson where he just tells you to, “shut the fuck up and take it.” or even a mating press where he can pummel his cum into you while seeing your face contort in pure bliss. “y-yeah. ‘ust let loose. go dumb on this dick.”
brat-tamer!toji who regularly calls you; “slut, (needy or cock) whore, vixen, pretty, disgusting, (stupid) bitch, brat, bad girl, good girl, perfect, beautiful, gorgeous, princess, angel, (sex or fuck) toy, doll, bunny, cum-slut, cum-dumpster, sugar… etc”
brat-tamer!toji who gets annoyed at your endless ramblings about your day, he sighs and tells you to get on your knees. you promptly do that, but to push his buttons you don’t stop rambling on and on and on. somehow, this man manages to get his 8 (girthy) inches down your throat. “cant complain with my cock in your mouth, huh?” he only smirks as you become teary-eyed, moaning a little at his statement, lapping your tongue up and down like a starving dog. he throws his head back, forearms supporting him while you bob your head back and forth on his thick length. “hey… never said that my cock doesn’t appreciate your tongue. s’ch a good girl when you do what you’re made for. unh!”
brat-tamer!toji who presses against you into a mirror, his broader, massive frame encasing you while he stares into your soul. “i-i don’t understand what i did?” you look up at him feigning innocence, batting your eyelashes. fingers caress his forearms, down his hard bicep, and lightly trace his hardened outline. his eyes never leave yours, a stern, menacing look to the average person, but you can tell he’s about to have you praying for mercy in another way. “of course you don’t understand what you did.” you whine slightly when his fingers suddenly grab a fist full of your hair, burning your scalp, his voice turns mockingly softer. “all you know in that pretty, empty, head of yours is just fucking. nothing else.” he quickly releases you, eliciting a gasp, magically flipping you around in an instant so you’re staring at yourself in the mirror now. “told you not to play with yourself until i came home. but you just haaad to be difficult.” he gripped the vibrator in one hand that was tucked away, pressing it against your lips. “spit.” you spat on it, eyes full of want. he only snickered and smirked. “good luck thinking I’m going to let you cum. stare in the mirror while I do this.” he turned the toy on, a vibrating tune humming throughout the room. “need you to realize how pathetic you look begging.” you gasped slightly, “b-but-" he proceeds to pry your legs apart with one massive thigh, his hand gripping the front of your neck, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “push your skirt up. you lost your right to cum, stupid whore. cum without permission, see what happens.”
brat-tamer!toji who loves to fuck you on his fingers. he loves the lewd noise it makes while ramming his two middle fingers in and out, or up and down. he loves to see your jaw go slack as you beg him to stop. “i-it’s… uhhhhhh! t-to- ah! -ji, toooooo-uhhh much!” he never loses focus, “yeah? yeah?” he presses his hand on your lower abdomen, “quite honestly, don’t care what you think.” he only licks his lips, his scarred lip grins with anticipation to finally taste you when you unfold.
brat-tamer!toji who degrades you like it’s a living but LIVES for your filthy mouth. he loves that you talk back, he’ll never admit it. he loves putting cum sluts like you in their place.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
brat-tamer!toji who weirdly… gets needy at times when you finish. he’ll hold you from behind, shutting his eyes while his arms are wrapped around, practically glued to your torso, the backside of your body molds perfectly to the front of his. legs intertwined, your head against his chest, a moment of pure bliss shared between you two. “who knew the big bad toji likes to cuddle?” “shut up.”
(silly toji! i need him to ruin me)
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tpwk-formula1 · 19 days
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Figure It Out - Landoscar***
SUB! Lando Norris X SWITCH! Oscar Piastri X SWITCH! Reader
REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I write for all drivers on the grid!
Summary: After Monza tension is at an all-time high in their shared apartment.
Authors Note: I've been writing for Kinktober and have been loving it so I decided to write a kinky little piece. The urge to post my Kinktober fics early is strong but I'm holding off. THIS IS NOT PROOF READ
TW - MxM action (Hand jobs and blow jobs), face sitting, slight masturbation, squirting, slight degrading
WC - 1500+
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Y/N POV
"Just shut up, Lando," Oscar finally snaps at his complaining teammate turned boyfriend.
"Don't fucking talk to me like that," Lando replied back clearly still pissed off at the whole situation.
"Lando, on the track we are drivers. The whole point is to race each other that's exactly what I did," Oscar continues to defend his bold actions.
"I get that, and I don't even care about the fucking overtake but you could have done it during one of the straights not the first fucking chicane," Lando continues ranting allowing his voice to raise more as he continues talking.
"Both of you shut the fuck up," I finally snap making both of my lovers fall silent. It was rare for me to yell especially when it came to getting in between them when they were arguing about a race.
"Lando, I understand why it's frustrating, you're fighting for a championship while also defending against Charles and Oscar I understand being frustrated over your race result but both of you guys need to work together to make sure to secure constructors. To be completely unbiased here, Oscar the overtake was risky and luckily both of you guys are amazing drivers and were able to survive but Lando is right, it might have cost you guys too much time ruining the chances of a 1-2. However, Lando that does not excuse your actions either. Both of you guys love each other and you need to remember at the end of the day you got points and a double podium," I tell them softly to fend up to keep listening to them yell at each other.
"But babe," Lando started to complain before I sent him a quick glare making him shut up without finishing his statement.
"Both of you strip and go lay on our bed," I tell them both without even looking up at them going back to the book I was reading before they started arguing. When I don't hear movement I look up to find them both staring at confusion.
"Did I stutter?" I ask again a little more firm than before. Both of them shook their head before slowly making their wait to our room where I could hear them starting to strip down. Neither of them are talking but I know for a fact they're staring at each other. Mad or not they love each other and if anyone can turn them on it's each other.
With the layout of our apartment, I can hear every little sound they're making even if they're talking in hushed whispers.
"Lando, how long is she gonna leave us here?" I hear Oscar ask making me smile softly. I knew it was only a matter of time before their anger turned into sexual frustrations. Whether they will ever admit it or not after a bad race weekend especially one pitting them against each other the only way to fix it is to fuck it out of their systems. Sometimes it involved using my body and other times it was them using each other. Those were always the best ones to watch.
"Osc, please stop touching my thigh," I can hear Lando whimper which tells me right away who will be taking the lead tonight.
"Lando, we're sitting on the edge of the bed it isn't intentional, stop being petty," Oscar snaps back slightly, clearly just as frustrated as his boyfriend.
"I need, Y/N," Lando finally whispers out. Oscar doesn't say anything in reply which has me slightly confused until I can hear the tell-tale signs of Lando being touched in some way.
"Fuck," Lando gasps out before I suddenly hear them start to make out quite aggressively.
"Osc, please," Lando begs slightly making my pussy start to throb.
"You're gonna wait to cum until our pretty girlfriend decides to stop playing games with us," Oscar whispers to Lando making me smile. In that moment I made the decision to listen to Lando continue to whine and beg.
I stand up quietly before stripping down and sitting back on the couch with my legs spread wide open. I bring my fingers down to my pussy before I start teasing myself.
"What if she doesn't come in for a while," Lando asks Oscar making me smile cause we all know damn well I'd be in there as soon as I couldn't handle the teasing anymore.
"I bet you anything, she's sitting on that couch with her hand in her panties right now listening to you beg and whine like a little whore," Oscar tells Lando making both of us gasp at his harsh words.
In all honesty, it was rare for Oscar to be the dominant one between the two but it was always a favorite of mine cause he was just a different kind of cruel than when Lando is being the dominant one.
I can hear some movement before the sound of one of them spitting.
"Please Osc," Lando whines out again which tells me Oscar has to be the one on his knees teasing Lando. I can hear the sound of Oscar's wet hand moving up and down Lando's hard cock, which has him whing and gasping at the sensation.
I know how impatient Lando can get, so I decided to put him out of his misery by getting up and making my way to our room. When I get in there I can Lando's head thrown back while Oscar is taking him down his throat.
I make my way over to Lando where I grab his face before placing my still wet fingers into his mouth making him moan at the taste of my pussy.
"Look, she's come to save you. Maybe you'll finally be allowed to cum, but of course, you're gonna have to earn it first," Oscar teased Lando, making him whine around my fingers that were still in his mouth. When I pull them out I lean down and start making out with Lando. I can taste a hint of my juices which just makes me moan into his mouth.
"How are you already soaked," I hear Oscar ask clearly having seen just how turned on I was.
"You know I like when you take control Osc," I whisper once I pull away from the heated makeout session. It doesn't take me long to feel Oscar's fingers plunge right into my dripping pussy making me let out a gasp before moaning loudly against Lando's lip.
It's not long before Lando becomes a whimpering mess which tells me that not only is Oscar fingering me he's also giving Lando a handy.
"Fuck," I whine dragging out the word clearly overwhelmed with everything around me.
It's not even two minutes later that Lando is begging Oscar again.
"Please, Oscar. I'll be good. Please," Lando is begging as much as possible while also trying to keep kissing me.
"Our pretty little slut gets to cum first," Oscar tells Lando making me whine. This has Lando reaching down just enough to start playing with my clit trying to bring me over the edge faster.
"Oscar, please," I moan out once I feel my orgasm getting close to the edge.
"Cum for us," Oscar tells me making me instantly squirt all over both of the boys. Once my orgasm has concluded I hear Oscar tell Lando to cum which has Lando instantly tensing before releasing a high pitched whine before cumming all over Oscar's hand.
"Here," Oscar says while presenting me his cum covered hand which has me instantly licking all of Lando's cum off of it. Once it is clean enough for Oscar he climbs into bed pulling me with him to sit on his face.
"Get to work," Oscar tells Lando which has him shuffling around to get on his knees and start talking Oscar into his mouth.
Once Lando has settled into a good pace Oscar starts eating me out like it's his last meal on Earth. With one hand gripped on the headboard for stability before I tangle my fingers into Oscar's freshly cut hair. I know I'm pulling at it just right when I hear Oscar gasp at the slight pain I'm causing to his scalp.
"Fuck," Oscar moans out shortly after I hear Lando gag slightly on Oscar's cock. I can tell just from the sounds Lando's making he has all of Oscar's cock down his throat right now.
"Close," Oscar gasps out before instantly going back to focusing on my clit which also brings me closer to my second orgasm.
I hear Oscar groan out against my pussy signifying that he's cumming which has me tumbling over the edge with him.
Still slightly shaking I feel Lando lightly lift me off of Oscar before bringing me into his chest for a cuddle. Something that was always a part of our aftercare routine.
"How'd you know that would work," Oscar asks chuckling a little before placing a soft kiss on my lips preventing me from answering right away.
"We've been together for over a year. I know how you guys get," I reply back making both of the boys laugh a little.
Once everything has calmed down around us we all get up before getting into the shower together which inevitably resulted in a round 2.
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herejusttosufferalong · 2 months
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Now that L has painted a big arrow on the timeline at June 2021, I’m curious about what you think S2 filming was like between the two of them?
L was still with J, they had found out they were going to be leading season 3, they had less screen time and more downtime than S3, and they posted THAT selfie. Thoughts?
Let me just give y'all my thoughts:
I think there was always feelings between the two of them and S2 filming really started to cultivate the blurred lines for them.
They knew early on in S2 production they would be leading S3 and they have both been very vocal about the prep they started to lead S3.
I think they both recognized pretty quickly they had feelings for each other but never discussed it and the used S3 filming and their characters to act on their feelings.
I personally don't think they ever crossed a line physically outside of their characters, pre or post break up with J.
I think a conversation was had between the two of them, sometime between the wrap party and her going to his play. I'm leaning closer to the wrap party.
I do think N was the one to shut things down for multiple reasons like L just getting out of a 4 yr relationship, them being in the BTON bubble and blurring lines, and then her truly thinking that maybe they had gotten whatever it was out of their system during filming.
I also don't think L was honest when they had their conversation. I know a lot of people within the fandom think his confession sort of "scared" N off with him dropping the love bomb. I feel the opposite. I think he downplayed things out of rejection.
Which is why we see him do a 180 last summer, he is running.
I think after she went to his play there was limited contact between them, partly because she had been seeing someone else, until Dec '23 when they met back up for reshoots.
During reshoots they fell right back into the blurred lines because nothing was actually resolved from their previous talk. They may have had another conversation with an understanding regarding the upcoming tour.
Which I believe is part of the reason we get the tension after the NYE kiss and during the early Jan interviews.
I don't believe N was seeing anyone Dec '23/Jan '24 but I do think it may have been rekindled in Feb/Mar done by early April.
We can tell from all of the press junkets and livestream events Feb-Apr that there is something there between L and N, I don't think it was lost on them either.
Australia def solidified things for them exhibiting their feelings outside of their characters and being forced to really examine it. Another conversation was had.
Then we have the InStyle stunt followed by a bunch of articles claiming L to be single.
A week later they are in Italy.
There is tension. Why? I think it is truly due to their lack of clear and honest communication up to that point. Another conversation is had, with their bodies, and all is well for the rest of the Italy stop.
I don't believe L had any intention of taking A to the NY premiere but I also don't think she flew there and surprised him. I don't think he was happy she was there but I also don't believe he yelled at her or got into an argument with her at the after party.
Reasons why I don't believe she was ever invited to NY:
She had bought her own ticket to get into the premiere/after party.
Her seat at the Knicks game seemed to be a last minute get.
And the Chaos dinner.
I'm def in the minority with this one but I don't think L would have accepted the invite if A was planned to go to NY. I could be wrong but the dinner already seemed completely outside of L's scene of ppl to network with. He was going for N and N alone, you can't change my mind.
Then we get Brazil. This is tricky because I don't believe L had ended things with A like some ppl do but I do believe they were just casual.
I am def in the minority here as well, I don't believe L took A to SF during the break between Brazil and Toronto. I think the pic A shared was an old one. Could be wrong tho. I think he was elsewhere and not with her and that was the reasoning behind the liking spree and getting some family/friends to follow her. All so she didn't act out, go figure it would be her mom who caused the drama...
Cut to Toronto. There is perceived tension between L and N but I think the fandom got this one wrong. They both seemed to have been ill in Toronto so I think that and jet lag started to catch up with them. All was fine in the end.
Not much to say about Dublin or Galway. I think lines were drawn by someone as things got a little too real.
And now here we are.
Let's discuss...
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honeyhotteoks · 10 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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detectiveneve · 1 year
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How To Know If Your Evil Vampire Boygirlfriend Really Likes You (a meta on Astarion's manipulations of Tav deeper into the romance.)
Okay, this was supposed to be a response to this ask right here, and it got so long I decided to just put it in its own thing for slightly easier reading. Thank you again to the asker for giving me an excuse to go off the rails talking about THE BOY. This also got long enough that it needs. Subheadings. And it is [checks notes] 3.6k words long. If you're interested in skipping the act 2 Scene Breakdown and going straight for the character analysis of Act 3 specifically, you can jump to the uhhh 3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition) subheading.
Prefacing that this is just my personal interpretation of Astarion here, the game leaves several moments ambiguous on purpose & I'd be super intrigued to hear what anyone else thinks is going on in this rancid little lad's head. This became more of a process of breaking down what I think he's doing in each scene than anything else, so I hope it's interesting to... you? reader? Since it's a bit long-winded and a lot of speculation and interpretation on my part for his wild ass behavior.
(Also, I haven't played far enough with an ascended Astarion to properly break down the differences between both--he'll have his own playthrough for sure but since I haven't gone far enough in that path, all of this is with no-ritual Astarion in mind) (I also don't have screenshots for everything but hopefully that's alright. just trust me bro.)
Fair warning, I didn't proof-read this & I moved paragraphs around so if it sounds incoherent that's a feature not a bug. Now. Let's get into the EVIDENCE.
1. but did he mean the kisses????
So, before the hug scene, the game leaves us a bit of room to interpret the progression of the relationship. I kind of wish we had one extra scene to sort of solidify his growing feelings in the in-between period of his "I'm just sleeping with you to secure my safety here," era (pre-confession as we'll call it) and his "oh shit I actually kind of care about you," era (post-confession, pre-ritual), but I understand why it wasn't included. Game mechanics & cost aside, the space between these two periods is left entirely up to player interpretation, & has lots of room for HC up to each individual player & Tav.
To address the easiest examples the asker gave, the repeatable kiss dialogues are all ones I'm going to mark under "sincere." Mostly because those are all post-confession, and after Astarion has acknowledged to himself (& the player) that he doesn't want to do anything sexual, but presumably kissing is fine (given that he's enthusiastic about the kisses & will shut down sex/intimacy acts otherwise.)
There's not really a logic to him being slinky here, and I didn't interpret any of his post-kiss repeated dialogues as insincere, much more so playful or coy or cheeky. The voice acting is subtle here, but I found it to be much more playful than his annoying little, for lack of a better word, purring "hello, beautiful" etc etc in act 1 / early act 2. Also, all these dialogues stay the same after the ritual happens, and your romance has been solidified in the grave scene, where he wholly says:
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"I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."
^ Not a lie. So I think we can mark off those particular dialogue as sincere.
In act 2, there aren't really a lot of places for Astarion to actually get into his manipulative tendencies. He overtly needs your aid with Yurgir (Repeat after me: thank you for helping me. It was very kind.) so he doesn't really manipulate you at... all...? in my opinion? Act 2 shows you his most sincere moment yet in the confession/hug scene. He is not lying. He is more honest in those moments than he has been in the entire game, and it shows in his wording, his body language. He's uncertain of himself, maybe. He doesn't know what to make of the situation yet. He says as much to Tav when you ask him "What are we?" and he says:
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"I don't know. But isn't it nice? Not to know. You're not a victim. Not a target. Not just one night it's better to forget. But then... whatever in the world could you be?"
He has no reason to say that without sincerity. He could say you're his specialest babygirl if he wanted to keep up the lie. And other than helping him with Raphael, there's really not a moment where Astarion has an opportunity to manipulate you....
EXCEPT.
EXCEPT. For this moment in particular. which is one of my FAVORITE Astarion ones because it is gloriously bitchy.
2. what if we took over a cult, babe.
Context first: I played a paladin of devotion, rough around the edges but fairly good-aligned Tav. She was a bit of a jerk but she saved people for free, and I adhered to her dialogue roleplay hard, choosing the "destroy the Absolute" dialogues at every turn. I don't have a save for this scene sadly otherwise I'd replay it and compare/contrast answers like a pepe silvia meme, so I'm only able to break this scene down from that particular lens.
Secondary context: This scene is important because it highlights Astarion's manipulative routine while still with a Tav he's very fond of (exceptional approval in this scene) and the way he lays it out is necessary to understand the moments later where he tries to manipulate Tav again, since it has components of the same themes, ideas, and tendencies that go on.
So, Astarion will hit you with this hot take early-ish on.
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"You know. I feel a connection between us. Like we're two souls walking the same path (...)" Astarion establishes emotional connection, and a foundation of similarity/commonality/shareed interest. This is pretty standard fare for him. He does the same thing a lot early in act one, where he's almost CONSTANTLY asking you to "trust him," (when you really should not.)
"You might be a little naive in the ways of the world, but I see promise in you. Ambition." - He kind of snidely reveals what he actually thinks--you're a bit naive, you "have a big heart,"--he's hoping that his emotional cloying and little comment and connection with Tav will be enough to sway them over to what he wants to do, and they'll give him what he wants because We're So Similar, See?
"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing do when we get to Moonrise Towers?" - He wields his language carefully. The right thing to do. That's a language he thinks Tav speaks. An interest in doing the Right Thing; so, he adjusts accordingly. He wants to do the right thing too, you see, and the right thing conveniently lines up with what he actually wants, which is real power. Astarion confesses he's not a details guy, yada yada, then--
"If we can take that control from them, imagine the power we'd wield." <- He lets slip what he's actually interested in. Astarion generally can't keep a charade up for too long. His real thoughts always come through, and he reveals his hand in conversations often, but usually in offhanded ways and, well--he's never made a secret really of where his actual interests lie. His attempts at currying your favor and persuading you (and you can really feel the persuasion here) are prettyyyyy overt, but still, he's trying anyways.
"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil." <- He brings the conversation back around to what's more neutral than Absolute Power -- keeping ourselves safe. He uses the We and Us language a lot when he wants to convince other people of anything, really. "We're all such good, trusting friends!" he'll say, lying through his FUCKING teeth. His manipulations here are like.... pretty clear, but he still gets an A for effort for trying to align himself with Tav & Tav's perceived goals & see if he can wriggle in his own in the process, put "become god-cult-leader" up as a Reasonable and Rational thing to Want to achieve.
The actual question here: does he care about Tav at this point? Up for interpretation, but I'm going to say yes with... the caveat that I don't think he's fully acknowledged it to himself, and I don't think it's love here. It is high approval though. I do think he cares about Tav, I do think he's including Tav in longer-term goals, he's depending on Tav at this point as an ally he can count on, and he's starting to get chipped away at.
I don't even really think it's a lie that he on some level would like to see Tav safe, and takes their wellbeing into account. He's been with them long enough to worry over their safety to some extent, and to at least partially lump it in with his own (in my opinion). Is that love? I don't think so. "We can finally be safe," is a reoccurring theme in the other scene I'm going to break down in just a second. And it's interesting for a lot of reasons.
And furthermore: you can care about someone and still be manipulative toward them. That's a core thing going on here, I think, with Astarion.
3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition).
"Is Astarion Manipulating Me In Act 3? " YES. A little bit. And here's why it's INTERESTING.
So, the confession scene in act two has already happened. Astarion has confessed some of his big mushy feelings to you. He likes you. You've slammed the "can I kiss you?" dialogue 100 times already because you're really super normal about the vampire twink. He doesn't know what to make of his caring about Tav yet. See: his "what are we??" dialogue.
MOVING ON. Astarion is also, a manipulative little shit, and he will NOT change his ways just because he likes you a lot and giggles when you give him a little kissy kiss.
Astarion is deeply, deeply traumatized, and his trauma has in his own words makes him act out the same cycles of behavior that he did prior to escaping Cazador. In its most obvious format, one of those behaviors was seducing Tav because that was the kind of behavior he knew, and it was the only thing he could think of to secure his own safety. By act 2, he's somewhat aware of the cycle, but--
Traumatic behaviors, like anything relating to surviving abuse & getting out of it, come and go in waves. You'll likely not find a survivor of abuse who doesn't revert back to coping mechanisms at times, especially in moments or episodes of heightened stress, or being put back into the old environment again. ->
Astarion going back to Baldur's Gate--and specifically with killing cazador in mind--is him going back to that same place where traumatic events occurred... almost constantly. Thus, he goes back to his old behaviors. Not to the exact same level, but it is there.
Safety. THIS is a word that comes back a lot with Astarion, it is one of his most reoccurring (if not the most) themes. He wants to feel safe. He associates power with safety, because the safest person in the world--as in, literally safe, not "safe for other people"--in his mind, is Cazador, who is powerful enough to repel any threats to himself & what he owns, has, possesses, and keeps.
Astarion is still, at his core, no matter what, self-serving. He will do what's best for himself first and foremost in almost every circumstance you put him in. Or at least, he will want to--if Tav or someone else stands in his way, and he sticks it out, it'll be begrudgingly. That's a fundamental aspect of his character & to try and do away with it makes no sense.
And in case it got lost, I'll reiterate that I do think Astarion's actual feelings for Tav at this stage are entirely genuine, & deeply felt. It shows, and it's obvious. He's just got several layers of behavior going on in the process.
"But I thought astarion liked me??? why would he consciously choose to manipulate me??" The thing is, once again, you can like someone and still try to manipulate them, pull on their heartstrings, or quite frankly guilt trip them into helping you kill like, a lot of fucking people so you can become godlord supreme emperor of mortals and vampire kind.
Let's get into the second scene I want to break down. Keeping all of what we've established above about how Astarion goes about establishing connection & togetherness & the idea of shared safety to sway Tav over to his side.
So let's set up one thing for sure. It's pretty obvious, everyone gets this scene, but let's set it up anyways.
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"What's a handful of the wretch's servants? IF they're anything like me when I was enslaved, they'll all be begging for death anyways." <- apathy toward others, generally motivated by self-interest, lack of empathy for others' plights, a callousness that is fairly unrepetant. He's fairly sure this is what he wants, and--
"After two hundred years of pure shit, I think I deserve something better." Again, Astarion tells us exactly what he's thinking. And what he believes. And he's not wrong! He does deserve something better than what he had before. Or, at least, he doesn't deserve the level of cruelty he endured at Cazador's hands. However.
And then he follows it up with, "I know you do [care]. It matters to me too. I want to be able to protect you too." <- finally, we come back around to the reoccurring theme he'll use to sway Tav over to his side. He sees the soft point of Tav in the conversation--they care about him--and he needles that in; they care about him, he cares about them, they should help him complete the ritual for it, it's what's best for everyone. Except for the 7000 spawn, but. You know.
NEXT IMPORTANT SCENE. let's take a look at the scene that follows after you confront his fellow vampire spawn in the tavern.
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I'm keeping the full screencap so I can keep his shifty little look in here. It's not the best format, I wish I'd kept videos, the body language & voice acting adds a lot to this moment, but. Neil you're so good at balancing Astarion's careful shiftiness, his gleeful/vindictive revelry at being so close to his end goal & confronting his siblings without flinching, his coy little pleading, and his near desperate watchfulness. He needs Tav. He cares about Tav, yes, but he needs Tav to help him.
Astarion is, again, fairly callous about the deaths of his brethren. You have to remind him time & again to maybe empathize with their suffering & similarity to him. But each time he reverts back to, "their lives" serving a greater purpose.
Astarion then follows that up with "But we're a team. If I become all powerful, then we become all-powerful." <- I think he genuinely does think of himself & Tav as a team, and as a good one at that. More than anything, Tav is the first person Astarion, in his own words, feels he truly cares for. They've killed a few gods chosens together, Tav has given him respect, patience, care. He feels fairly assured of their presence & kindness at this point. And assurance tends to breed............. let's call it, taking for granted?
I believe he's trying to again emotionally bid for their help & loyalty as much as gauge if they're still with him, as he does by going -> "We are a team after all. You're still with me?" Once again, the easiest way to secure aid is through emotional connections; someone's attraction to you, or better yet, their care for your well-being, are easy strings to pull on to try and entice someone to do what you want them to do. It's not necessarily maliciously intended, but it is a kind of manipulation.
"But Astarion just genuinely wants to know you're on his side!" Yes. And he also really wants you to help him with the ritual. ANY arguments against the idea that he's benignly trying to manipulate Tav's feelings, I'm just gonna put up this screencap right here, one of the last times he bids for Tav's affection & loyalty in this, in this particular conversation:
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Look at his stupid pouty face and his "You want what's best for me, surely?" and oh god the voice acting. We're smacked right in the face with Act 1 Astarion's slinky, whiny little "truuuuust me it'll just be a taste I promise &lt;3333" voice. That PURE "I'm trying so hard to connive my way into your good will because I REALLY want this." voice.
His strength is your strength. And he will pleading face emoji his way through getting you over to his side if he needs to. It's honestly so funny, how the writing plays out, because SEVERAL times you can choose to fully fall for it, "yes of course I want whats best for you / want you to be safe / feel good" and every time, he's like "I know I know <333 and I want YOU to feel safe too <3333" and I don't even think that's a lie! I don't think it's a LIE, I just think it's the same pattern of manipulative behavior he's exhibited time and again even when he cares for you.
Astarion is still Astarion. He is very willing to kill, lie, and cheat his way through just about anything to protect himself, & all of that makes PERFECT sense for him. And if you're not on board with his plans, of course he will use every tool at his disposal to get you on board. It is, after all, what's best for both you and him. His power is your power.
4. "I'm doing this for you too." He said, lying. Or genuinely believing that but lying to himself too and executing it in the weirdest way imaginable.
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So, this is probably my favorite interaction in the entire Astarion romance. Love the grave scene. Love the horny evil vampire turning. But this moment in particular is fucking brilliant, because it illustrates the dilemma here perfectly.
Astarion outright tells us exactly why he is the way he is, and why he cares for Tav while being able to be so cruel and callous about others. "No one ever looked out for me [...] you're the only one." Tav is exceptional--as in, THE EXCEPTION to the rule--because they cared for him in a way no one else ever has. He has ZERO reason to even bother lifting a finger for anyone else besides himself, because in his mind, none of them ever bothered to help him, why should he bother with them. But TAV. Tav he can make promises too.
On some level, I do kind of believe him when he says things like "I'm doing this for you too." -- As in, I believe that he believes that he's taken Tav into account here as well. I do think he genuinely thinks they'll be an even more magnificent duo of glorious bastards together once he's God Vampire Emperor Of Eternity. And on some level, he's probably right. They do take over the world together in some endings, so. Good for them.
However, do I think he's primarily motivated by anything but himself? No. Tav also benefitting from his mega vampire powers is just a bonus in a laundry list of reasons why Astarion wants to ascend at this point in the game. Why Astarion is willing to pull out every guilt-trippy, pleading face to get Tav to help him, if they show even a hint of reluctance. More than anything: Astarion is a survivor, and a survivor of severe abuse that pretty quickly explain why he is the way he is. Does that excuse what he does in the aftermath of that abuse, when it comes to harming other people? Not really. But it explains it pretty clearly.
Because Astarion is back where he came from, he's immediately thrust back into the cycles of behavior that both traumatized him & were what he had to do. The pattern of behavior, coping mechanisms, rooted in traumatic cycles, that he has done time and time and time again that has successfully gotten him, not what he wants, but what he needs to survive. Does his manipulation of Tav here mean he doesn't care? Not at all. It's just that he needs this work. He needs his allies to help him make it work, and he's willing to pull out every stop to see Cazador dead and himself with enough power to never feel so helpless or vulnerable again.
Astarion can love you & still be himself. He will never stop being a bit bitchy, a bit conniving, extremely focused on self-preservation at all costs. He might not seek out active maliciousness, but even in act 3 after the ritual, he still approves of generally being a sneaky bastard, taking short cuts, taking easy ways out. And none of this is necessarily... a problem? It isn't ""moral"", sure, but it's not really a problem. In some endings, he can pursue ""better"" paths, but his general deceivery and typical behavior aren't going away. Feature, not a bug. How each Tav feels about his ... fairly obvious deep romance manipulations is up to each player though, and that is what's interesting for each playthrough.
There are five more essays to write in here. There's the Astarion after the ritual, who agrees that fine, killing 7000 people is wrong. And there's the Astarion after the ascension, who is now fully entrenched in the idea that Power Is Everything, and all that means for him afterward, and his visceral, intense, obsessive controlling dynamic with Tav where they descend into Chaotic Vampire Evil Marriage. And there's Astarion and Tav together finally, honestly, openly, with the heart-wrenching intimacy of the grave scene. And this is almost 4000 words so I'm shutting the fuck up here.
So. I will end this by saying I'm peeling him like an onion rn I'm obsessed with him. He's gods horrible princess and he's never going to die.
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soursturniolo · 6 months
Text
Hurtful Words • Nick Sturniolo
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Synopsis: Nick and his boyfriend get into a fight the night before leaving for Boston. After some of the harsh words from Nick, his boyfriend is left hurt and uncertain of his place in his boyfriends life.
Pairing: Nick x male reader/character (no y/n but also no other name used, he/him pronouns)
Tags: angst, hurt, a bit of sunshine!reader x grumpy!nick, nick has a panic attack, comfort (happy ending because I guess I'm not 100% evil yet)
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Nick had been extremely stressed all day. Nothing was going right, first he woke up late and missed his meeting. Then, he went to edit a video they had prefilmed to post while him, his brothers, and his boyfriend would be in Boston, just to discover the SD card was corrupted and nothing could be salvaged from it. Next, he developed a horrible headache as he was rushing to finish up packing for the flight tomorrow morning. Now, he was getting ready to film a replacement video with his brothers right as his cheerful boyfriend strode into his bedroom. Fuck , Nick thought to himself. He had forgotten his boyfriend was coming this early.
“Hey!” his boyfriend smiled as he made his way over to him, arms open for the usual hug they’d share. Most always, his boyfriends sunny disposition made him smile, but today it just made him irrationally angry.
“Hi,” Nick responds flatly, not meeting his partners eyes as he dodged the hug and affection being offered. If Nick had been looking up he would have seen the look of confusion and concern flash across the other man’s face as his arms lowered to the side upon seeing that Nick clearly didn’t want a hug.
The other man frowns as he takes in Nick’s disheveled appearance, hair sticking up from most likely stressful tugging, a clenched jaw and tense shoulders. Knowing Nick for almost a year now, he knows his boyfriend isn’t one to immediately talk out his feelings, so he doesn’t ask but quickly concludes it must have been quite a rough day for the brunette. Usually in these situations, they’ll cuddle and relax and watch some stupid TV show, so that’s what the man suggests. To which, Nick scoffs.
“I don’t have time to just lay around with you, I need to go do my job, I have so much shit I need to do before tomorrow,” Nick gripes, moving around to grab the camera and SD cards off his desk, stuffing them into a bag to take to the car where he’s sure his brothers are already waiting for him. In packing he’d lost track of time, looking at his phone to see its already 17 minutes past the time they said they’d meet in the garage.
His boyfriend nods in understanding, seeing the obvious stress practically pouring out of every pore of his boyfriend. He reaches out a hand, gently touching Nick’s arm, trying his best to sooth him.
“is there anything I can do to help?” he asks softly.
“Jesus Christ!” Nick exclaims, feeling overwhelmed by everything all at once, like his skin is on fire and every little thing makes his head pound even harder, yaking his arm away from the other man’s touch “yknow what actually, there is. Just leave me the fuck alone for two seconds!”
The man frowns slightly, taking a step back at Nick’s sudden outburst, wrapping his own arms around him, head cooking to the side minutely.
“we’ve been apart all day? I’m just trying to help, I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says softly, trying to give him a soft smile, which just makes Nick scoff and roll his eyes again. A deep frown paints his boyfriends face at the reaction, the man tightening his arms around himself, shoulders hunching in slightly.
“And you come in here all fucking smiles and hugs. you’re just happy all the fucking time. Just this fucking ray of sunshine. Some of us fucking aren’t. Maybe this just wasn’t a good idea.” Nick spits out, his words venom. Part of his brain is yelling at him to shut up seeing the hurt look spreading over his boyfriends face, but the angry voice overshadows that one, just wanting everyone to feel has horrible as he feels.
“What? What isn’t a good idea?” the man asks him, voice small, fearing the answer. Did Nick mean him coming to Boston along with his brothers to finally meet his parents? While he had been nervous about meeting his boyfriends parents at first, in the past few days he had become quite excited. Thinking of meeting his family, his family dog too. He had bought gifts for them all, even a chew toy for Trevor. Even today, the young man had found himself daydreaming at work, thinking of how well it all might go, imagining them all sitting around a table looking at photo albums and smiling as he learns more about the past of the man he so desperately wants a future with.
Nicks quick response has those hopes shattering, along with his heart.
“This. Us. I don’t know. I just need to fucking breathe. I’m leaving to film with Chris and Matt. Bye.” Nick half yells, voice strained as he stalks his way to the door, yanking it open and slamming it shut as he leaves, leaving a tearful man standing in the middle of the room wondering where it all went so wrong.
Nick was distracted the whole entire time they were filming, overcome with guilt and regret. He had been so harsh to his boyfriend, his number one supporter, next to his family of course. Flashes of the other man’s hurt face flicker in his mind, the timid and soft nature he had taken on as Nick raged at him, a shadow of the mans usually bright and bubbly demeanor. Even when he was short with him at first, instead of just leaving, his sweet boyfriend had still apologized and compassionately offered help. And what did Nick do to show his appreciation? Told him callously that maybe them dating had been a bad idea.
That wasn’t true in the slightest. They’d been together 7 months at this point, and it had been some of the happiest months of Nick’s life. He’d experienced a happiness that he never thought he’d get even remotely close to again, and this was how he repaid the man? Throwing his cheerful and sweet nature in his face as if it was something to be ashamed of? It made him sick to his stomach to recall how he’d behaved.
Noticing their brothers distraction, Matt and Chris suggested cutting the video short, under the guise of wanting to get on good nights sleep before their early flight home. The drive home was quick and quiet as Nick thought of all the ways he’d apologize to his sweet boyfriend who had a heart almost too good to be true.
The brothers quickly said goodnight and parted ways, Nick taking the stairs two at a time to get to his room so he could ask for the man’s forgiveness. Upon opening the door, he’s met with disappointment. He had left. Nick knew he shouldn’t be surprised though. As he pulls out his phone to call the man he knew he had hurt, a bag on his bed catches his eye, along with a note. He peaks in the bag, confused upon seeing four boxes wrapped in a plain purple wrapping paper, as he picks up the letter, recognizing the handwriting and feeling his heart clench painfully in his chest as he begins to read.
Nick,
I’m sorry, I never meant to upset you. I know I can be a lot, and I understand if it’s gotten too much to deal with. I was really looking forward to seeing Boston and meeting your family. But it’d be silly for me to tag along now, at this point. I had gotten some things for your parents, Justin, and Trevor. I was hoping you’d maybe give them to them for me?
Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back for my plane ticket if it’s too late to cancel it.
Thank you for the last 7 months, they meant the world to me. You did, too.
Nick feels tears gather in his eyes, beginning to stream down his face as he sits the letter down and quickly scrolls to his contact on his phone.
"please, pick up, pick up, pick up" he mutters, sniffling as he waits and hopes he'll answer. A shred of hope blooms upon hearing his call answered answer, the soft noise of a car engine in the back. Good, maybe his boyfriend hadn't made it home yet.
"baby?" Nick sniffles slightly, voice cracking. He hears the man on the other end of the line sniffle too, and he feels his heart crack a little more. he'd made his sweetheart cry.
"what do you need, nick?" the other man asks softly and tearfully.
"I need you. please turn around, I know you’re still in the car. I'm so sorry," Nick pleads.
"it's okay Nick," he sniffles, "just give those gifts to them, please?" he asks.
"no, I'm not," Nick cries, tears streaming down his face, one hand clutching his hair as the other clutches his phone against his ear, sagging against the wall and sliding down it into a heap on the floor, his chest feeling tighter and tighter.
"okay, I'll get them back from you when you guys get back home," he offers, which just makes Nick cry harder. He really fucked up this time.
"no, no you're supposed to give them to them, I want you to, I want you to turn around and come back here so I can tell you how fucking sorry I am and kiss you and watch a stupid movie with you and then we get up and we go to Boston tomorrow morning and you get to meet my family and see where I'm from and everything and they'll love you and your little gifts and your smile that can light up a room and they'll love you because I love you," he pleads over the phone, desolving into sobs on the phone.
the other man on the line tears up again at the sweet words and obvious remorse, and he wants to respond to them but Nick is spiraling in regret and sadness and he can hear that it's getting harder for him to breathe through his cries.
he turns the car around, beginning to take a shortcut back to the triplets house.
"Nick, I need you to breathe," the man says softly, hearing the loud cries through the speakers of his car.
"No, I'm not Nick, you never call me nick when we're alone, its always Nicky or sweetheart or babe," the brunette sobs, still feeling like his relationship is slipping through his fingers, and it's his own fault.
The man grips his steering wheel a little tighter, driving a little faster.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, I just need you to breathe for me, in your nose and out your mouth real slow for me okay? you know that box breathing technique I showed matt a few months ago?" he softly asks Nick.
"Yeah," Nick sniffles, breathing still shaking and disordered.
"Good baby, I'm going to count and I want you to breathe with me okay? I'm almost there but I need you to breathe for me until I get there, okay?" He asks softly.
As he continues to drive, he counts off and listens as Nick breathes with him, slight sniffles still present as he tries to focus on getting his breathing regulated with the knowledge that his boyfriend is coming back.
Nick doesn't even register the sound of his boyfriends car turning off or the sound of him using his house key to get in. his head jerks up to look up from his spot on the floor to see his boyfriend standing in his doorway. He quickly moves from his position on the floor, getting up and launching himself into his boyfriends arms.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean a fucking word I said," he sobs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend tightly and burrowing his head into his neck, his tears wetting the skin. His boyfriend holds him just as snuggly in his arms, rubbing a soothing hand over his back as the other hand cups the back of his head softly.
"I know, its alright," the man sooths, but the words have an opposite affect on Nick, as the brunette pulls back quickly as he shakes his head.
"It's not alright! I was mean because I had a bad day and my head fucking hurts, and I hurt you. You didn't deserve that. I love you, and I love your personality and how loving and happy you are. It isnt something I or anyone should throw in your face. I should have talked to you, I should have thanked you for wanting to help me. I'm so sorry, ill be better, I'll get better at talking to you and communicating and not just blowing up at you for no reason," Nick sniffles, roughly wiping away his own tears.
"Okay, I forgive you," the other man offers softly, as he gently pulls Nick's hands away from the rough rubbing of his face.
"No! You shouldn't just forgive me, why are you being so nice right now?" Nick objects, confused by his boyfriends behavior as more tears make their way down his face.
The other man smiles softly and sadly, guiding his boyfriend over to the bed and sitting, pulling Nick down to sit right next to him. He gently guides Nicks head to rest on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around the man in a comforting embrace that Nick easily allows himself to be pulled into, the closeness easing the pain and regret in his heart.
"Let me ask you a couple things, okay? Maybe that'll help you understand why I'm forgiving you?" he offers, carding his fingers though Nick's hair softly, as he feels Nick nod and whisper is consent into his shoulder.
"Do you genuinely regret how you treated me?" A quick and firm nod from Nick.
"Do you see how hurtful your misplaced irritation can be?" Another firm nod and squeeze from Nick's arms around him is felt.
"Do you genuinely plan on working on communicating with me and being better in the future so this doesn't happen again?" Another nod and squeeze.
"Do you still love me and want to be with me, and want me to come to Boston with you?" This receives the fastest nod and squeeze of all the questions, making the man smile and turn to press a soft kiss to Nick's head.
"See. You acknowledged and took ownership of what you did wrong, you plan to work on being better, and I know you're genuinely sorry and regret hurting me the way you did. I trust you, so I trust what you say and the fact that this will not happen again. We will deal better the next time," he explains softly to the man in his arms.
"Okay. I promise I'll do better, I love you," Nick hoarsely whispers against his shoulder, cuddling more into the other man's side.
"I know, I love you too," Nick smiles wobbly as he hears those words and feels another kiss pressed against his head. He leans up, softly pressing his lips against the man's jaw, then his cheek, then thr corner of his mouth, smiling when we feels the skin move under his lips into a matching smile. Then, Nick presses their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss, trying to convey all the love and warmth he feels for the man in his embrace. His own ray of sunshine.
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author's note: hey! i hope yall enjoyed! if you have any nick requests feel free to send em my way! im slowly but surely getting back into writing and i really want to write more for nick :)
no tag list on this post because I'm getting ready to redo my old tag list since most either aren't active anymore or have new usernames
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volturiprincess · 4 months
Text
Death Flower
Jane Volturi x Fem human mate
Summary: Jane contradicts a lot but a simple "my little death flower" and its all over.
A/N: I wanted to post this on May 31st since that marks half way to Halloween but I forgot about this WIP. I got some ideas brewing for when October comes around. Its short but anyways....Enjoy💙
__________________🥀____________________
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“No”
“No? Why not?”
‘I said no and that is final, so stop pestering me on this”
“Come on my little death flower, let's not be like this”
She stopped walking away and stood on the spot. Here's the thing about being mates with Jane, yes she can be quite difficult to convince to do things, such as cuddling under our favorite open field, but I know a certain trick to persuade her. I noticed this a while ago, she was going to leave for a guard meeting that would start in 30 minutes, but she wanted to leave early but I wanted her to cuddle with me. She’s still not used to affection, which I understand, she took a month to even just hold my hand so I understand that and I respect her boundaries. But as she was getting ready to leave for her meeting I sleepily called out to her “My little storm cloud” and she halted her movements and was instantly in bed with her being the big spoon and I the little one.
I didn't dare to question her sudden change of mind but from that whenever I wanted to “get my way” with her I would casually call her some clever nicknames and she goes with my idea. I of course never call her out in front of the others, actually one time I called her my “little rain cloud” in front of Alec. He instantly looked at Jane and started teasing her and would call her the same nickname for days until Jane threatened to use her ability on him, that for sure shut him up. I promised to her that I would never call her said nicknames in front of others. 
Jane also from what I can say is she doesn't like being called the traditional nicknames, once in a while I do call her darling or my love but it doesn't get the same reaction as when I call her my other nicknames. It's just so amusing to see her halt her every thought and movements when I call her such names, but what makes my heart flip is when she looks at me and you can see a very small smile spreading onto her angelic face. 
“What is it that you wanted to do again?”
Oh man I got her so good, I almost feel bad in kind of manipulating her with my nicknames but man she always gets her way a majority of the time. She always gets the final say but I guess it does feel nice to finally be able to have a small win with her. And gosh that smile she does is so sweet, it's hard to imagine her being able to cause such pain with her gaze when she has such an angelic smile. 
“Oh right, um I wanted you be my Morticia to my Gomez”
“But Halloween is not for another five months?”
“I know but that's going to be our couple costume”
“Hmm we will see”
“Come on Jane, it ill be perfect, I already treat you like you are the only person in my life, I even call you the nicknames that are very similar to what Gomez calls Morticia”
“I said we will see”
I know she likes the idea, she just won't admit it. I think she would make a beautiful Morticia, but in this case she will be a blonde Morticia. In no way will I make her wear a wig to cover her golden locks that I love so much. In my case I would be a female version of Gomez, I'm also at the point of convincing the others to be characters from “The Addams Family”. Felix will definitely be Lurch no doubt, but for some reason im stuck with the thought that Alec and Demetri would be a great Pugesly and Wednesday. They will be my next victims to convince them to go along with my crazy plan. I grabbed her hand to place a gentle slow kiss on it, I felt her literally melt at the touch.
“Fine we will do it, but you dare make me wear a wig I will have Alec use his smoke on you”
Shivering at her little “threat” which I know she will never do, she has said that many times in the past and has never once done it to me.
“I would never want to cover your blonde locks my dear thundercloud”
“...Good”
Being Jane’s mate has its downs but if you play your cards right it can have its perk. 
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aurumacadicus · 3 months
Text
Anyway I saw a commercial where Don Cheadle runs a speakeasy.
--
"Tony, my bar is opening tonight and my piano player has food poisoning," Jim stated when he found him in the living room of his penthouse, watching a basketball game.
Tony blinked at him, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. "I can flush him with Pedialyte?"
"This isn't college. Also I already left him a case and a credit card in case his girlfriend has to take him to get an IV," Jim answered with a blasé shrug. He reached over the back of the couch to grab his hair and give him a gentle shake. "I understand you're still reeling from your breakup but I need a favor. You must have dated at least one person who can play jazz on the piano."
"Stop wobbling me I'm full of chips," Tony grumbled, lifting his hand to slap Jim's arm. "And no, I didn't. I'm the piano player in my relationships."
Jim paused, then began shaking him with more fervor. "HOW COME YOU NEVER PLAYED FOR ME."
"There wasn't a piano in our dorm I will throw up on you," Tony snapped, smacking his arm again. "Also??? I was adorable in school I would have hogged all the girls."
"It's so annoying that you're right," Jim huffed, allowing himself to be brushed off. He looked around the penthouse, then pointed at the piano next to the window, which he'd always thought was just there either to impress Tony's dates or because rich people just owned pianos. "Show me what you can do."
"I don't want to go to your speakeasy opening," Tony complained, even as he stood and brushed his hands off on his sweatpants. "I want to wallow in finding my ex-boyfriend fucking my ex-girlfriend in my bed. I was supposed to propose tonight. You're getting George Gershwin."
"Oh no," Jim deadpanned. "A way to get your mind off of that guy I hated anyway while getting me to owe you a favor."
Tony paused, slanting him a look out of the corner of his eye. His fingers hovered over the piano keys. "...You'll owe me a favor?" he repeated.
"A big one," Jim confirmed, and couldn't help a relieved smile as Tony's fingers danced along the keys in response, Rhapsody in Blue vibrating out from the piano's body. "Wear that pinstripe number. You'll never have to buy yourself a drink."
--
Most of the patrons were by invite. Jim had wanted to show the place off to his friends first, now that it was finished. A themed bar wasn't the safest bet in any economy, and he wanted them to be able to enjoy it before he had to start stressing about finances. And military people never needed an excuse to drink.
Tony's favor had involved inviting a few of his rich friends, though, and with the selfies Janet Van Dyne and Johnny Storm were posting online, Jim figured he'd be set for a few years, especially when Jan grabbed his hands and sparkled at him about how she'd be coming at least once a week to show off new flapper dresses. (He was still unsure as to how she "sparkled" at him, but it was an adjective he'd gotten from Tony and it was the only really apt one.) They kept dropping fifties in the tip jar, too, which only made his bartenders more cheerful and willing to act in their roles.
Luckily, the higher class clientele were balanced out with Jim's pals from the military. Carol and Maria had already said their goodbyes (Monica had an event early the next morning) but as the air force left, the army rolled in, and he welcomed the Howling Commandoes in with only a little teasing.
"Jim," Natasha said, appearing beside him between one breath and another, despite the beads on her dress tinkling musically with each step. "Why is Bucky lying to people that his food poisoning miraculously ended. And why did he give me five hundred dollars to shut up about him not having food poisoning."
Jim sighed. He should have known that Bucky would have gotten dragged here regardless of his "illness" with friends like the Commandoes. "I needed to get Tony out of the house but I knew he'd only do it if I needed help. Today was the first time he showered in a week."
"I see. Well, I've just gotten May and Happy together," Natasha said ominously. "And Pepper is well on her way to realizing Phil is asking her out. I could use a new project. Steve is also single."
"I really don't want Tony dating right after he found his cheating ex-boyfriend in his bed with someone else," Jim began.
"Don't worry, Steve is stupidly loyal even to people he's not dating and will punch Tiberius Stone in the teeth if he ever sees him," Natasha assured him, and floated halfway across the room as Jim gave her an astonished blink.
Well. Jim couldn't say he didn't want to see that. He drifted over to the piano, where Tony was still diligently playing Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton. "You need a break, bud? You've been playing for two hours straight."
"Rhodey," Tony slurred happily, and it made Jim suddenly aware of the rows of martini glasses on the side of the piano. "This is so much fun. Is it okay if my tips go to charity. I can't feel my hands."
Bucky appeared a moment later, cheerfully shouldering him aside. "I'll take over, fella," he said, giving Jim a wink, and hip-checked Tony off of the piano bench and directly into Jim's arms.
"Was that hot or am I sad and drunk?" Tony asked. He squinted at Bucky blearily. "Am I sad and looking for anything to be hot. Or was that actually hot."
Reluctantly, Jim answered, "No, it was hot, but Bucky's taken." He pulled Tony's arm over his shoulders. "Let's get some water in you, okay?"
"Okay but I promised Jan I'd play her out because of drama and panache," Tony wobbled, allowing Jim to tow him over to the dark, moody sitting area. "Is this a secret door? Oh my God yay," he added as Jim pulled a bookcase open to reveal a back room where he could rest without excitement.
Jim had intended for it to be a room for private parties, but letting his friends sober up in it tonight would be fine, probably. Especially if Tony was going to be drunk and cute about it. "What is Jan going to have you play?"
"'Let's Misbehave,'" Tony slurred, and Jim sighed fondly, because of course she was.
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justsomerandomfanfic · 5 months
Text
Sunsets - Dick Grayson (Robin) X Male Reader
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Title: Sunsets
Dick Grayson (Robin) X Male Reader
Additional Characters: Slade (Mentioned), Cyborg (Mentioned), and Beast Boy (Mentioned)
Requested by: Anon!
WC: 2,167
Warnings: Post-Robin's Slade Apprentice Era, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, Slade, some italics, hallucinations mentioned, friends to lovers, nicknames, slight angst, and fluff
The sun was slowly setting, casting an orange glow over the skyline. The sky was a light purple. The air was cool but the atmosphere was warm enough that it could still be considered summer; thought, autumn was on the way. Dick stood on the rooftop of the Tower, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the sunset. He loved sunsets and sunrises. As you once said jokingly, ‘the early bird catches the worm’. It was mesmerizing, really, the sunset; how everything changed with the setting of the sun. From the bright red to the brilliant oranges and yellows to the soft pinks, purples, and blues. Everything was changing. A new day was coming.
Dick sighed, deeply, shutting his eyes for a moment. You were sneaky and quiet, but not sneaky enough; he always knew you were there. He didn't even have to turn his head to know that you were beside him once he reopened his eyes. His gaze drifted over to you in a silent question, wondering why you had come up to the rooftop.
"I've been looking for you," You finally answered his silent question, "The pizza arrived." Your voice was calm; yet quiet. “The pizza delivery guy mistook me for B.B., so that was fun.”
He hummed, "I'll be down in a moment." He simply answered, and you hummed right back, with a small nod. Though, when you didn't leave, Dick looked back over at you, raising an eyebrow. 
"I didn't only come up here to tell you that dinner arrived." You responded. Dick could see you fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. He could tell that something was on your mind. And before he could ask you to elaborate, you continued; "I also thought that maybe you'd like some company." You turned to look at him once more, "If not, I totally understand if you want to be alone. But, if you want someone to talk to, or just be here, then... Well. I'm here." You shrugged slightly, as if unsure of what else to say. But as Dick's silence lingered in the air, your nervous grin faltered as you quickly tried to recover. "I mean, I can go if you don't want to talk or anything! I understand this might be your 'me time,' and all... I just wanted to offer some support. I mean… I don’t want to be that guy that rains on your ‘me time’ parade." You spoke quickly, almost stumbling over your words. Dick couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement to your nervous rambling.
The past few weeks had been pretty rough for the team, especially for Dick. First, he had locked himself in his room, trying to find any possible leads to Slade's whereabouts. Then he took up the mantle of Red X, lying to his friends, trying to trick Slade into giving him the information he needed to stop him for good; Slade saw right through his lies. And then Slade put Nanoscopic probes into the team's bloodstream - with one press of a button, the Nanoscopic probes would slowly, but painfully, drain their life force until they were nothing more than husks of their former selves. Basically... The team, Dick included, didn't fully understand the full effects of the Nanoscopic probes; except that they were painful when activated. But Slade used Dick, used him knowing how much he truly cared for his Titan team. Dick was forced to join Slade as his apprentice, and there was nothing he or his team could do to stop it. 
Dick did stop it. Even when things or certain events seem incredibly impossible, he, and the team, always found a way through it. 
Even during the time that he was hallucinating. It didn't take long for you and the team to figure out that he wasn’t actually seeing Slade whatsoever. It hurt your soul when you saw him in the basement of the tower, being punched around by some invisible force... You quickly got to work, trying to find out what had caused these horrifying hallucinations. You stayed up, for hours, when it finally clicked. The mask. Slade's mask. You brought the mask to Cyborg, and you and he did some tests... It was confirmed. There was this substance, residue, that had hallucinogenic effects on those who inhaled it. 
It wasn't long until Dick was cured...
The memory of Dick thrashing and pulling against the restraints when he was still under the influence of the hallucinogenic, haunted you. The anger, fear, determination... It was all evident in his voice. You cared so much for him. You had come to the realization that you had liked him more than just a friend a year ago.
At first, when the realization came, you tried to deny it. That was, well, hard to do, considering the evidence that was stacked up against you. You loved his smile, his kindness towards you, and the fact that he never stopped fighting. You loved how passionate he was about every single thing he did. You felt like you were in heaven whenever you were with him. But... How long would you be able to stay in that heaven before it shattered into pieces? Into reality? Would he even return your feelings? Maybe he did really think of you as only a friend - a teammate. Maybe you shouldn’t even say anything on the subject. The questions plagued your thoughts relentlessly, and when you weren't plagued with them, you were filled with doubt. You were at a very confusing time of your life…
Dick found himself lost in a whirlwind of emotions. His gaze was fixed on the fading light, but his mind was elsewhere, grappling with the aftermath of his ordeal with Slade. Every muscle felt tense, his jaw clenched as he tried to process the tangled mess of guilt, fear, and uncertainty that was swirling within him. He knew he needed to talk about it, to let someone in, but the words seemed to stick onto the back of his throat, refusing to emerge; he could choke on them. He turned to you, his trusted companion, his heart heavy with unspoken words. His usual confidence faltered, replaced by a rare vulnerability for the usually stoic Robin. With a deep breath, he finally opened his mouth, the words coming out in a hesitant, almost stuttering manner; the gears turning in his mind.
"I... I don't know how to say this, but- I need to talk to someone about this… About Slade." He gritted his teeth, anger filling him at the mere sound and thought of his name, but he continued; "And... Everything. I... I'm not good at this, at feelings, but I... I can't keep it all inside anymore." His eyes searched yours for understanding and acceptance. The weight of his burdens seemed to lessen slightly as he spoke, the first step towards unburdening his soul. "You are one of my trusted friends, Y/N," He continued, "I... Uh..." He paused, pursing his lips as he turned back to the setting sun. He inhaled deeply, feeling the back of his eyes stinging with unshed, stubborn tears. He cleared his throat. You could feel the depth of his turmoil as he struggled to find the right words to express the torment that had been eating away at him. Finally, after a moment of silence, broken only by the gentle rustle of the evening breeze, Dick spoke again, "I... I can't shake off what Slade has done. It's like a shadow that follows me everywhere, a constant reminder of how terribly I've messed up." His words were laced with raw honesty. "I’m so tired, Y/N," Dick continued, his voice stiff; he was trying to stay strong. "It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I don't know how much longer I can bear it alone."
You could sense the depth of his anguish, the self-blame that gnawed at his soul. In that moment, you knew that he needed you more than ever, to be his anchor in the storm of his emotions, "Dick... Whatever you need, I'm here for you." You began, "I'm here for you." You repeated; hoping it would help him, even just briefly. 
"I... I feel that it was my fault that Slade managed to get so far into my head. I failed you, and the team." Dick said quietly, looking over at the city. 
Your eyes widened as you shook your head, placing your hand on his upper arm, "No, D, none of this was your fault." You insisted, "None of it. None of it was on you." You squeezed his arm tightly in reassurance, and he looked back at you, his gaze intense, making you realize that you still had your hand on his arm. Reluctantly, you let go of him but gasped lightly when Dick suddenly grabbed your hand. He continued to surprise you as he reached up with his free hand and removed his mask. Finally, you finally got to look into Dick Grayson's blue eyes. They were filled with pain, sorrow, and regret. Yet, underneath that pain, there was also determination, bravery; an emotion you were all too familiar with, though you had never seen such clear emotion from Dick Grayson. Your grip tightened on his hand as he stared at you, searching your face. You continued, "I know what you've gone through was incredibly traumatizing, something no one should ever have to go through..." You tried to blink your own tears away, but you ultimately failed; one trailed down your cheek. "But, you are so strong... So brave... It's amazing how determined and fearless you are." You cleared your throat, your face becoming hot as you glanced away briefly, "I know one thing for sure, you have this incredible capacity to pull yourself together and face whatever challenges the world throws at you. It's honestly inspiring..." You looked back up at him, giving him a small smile, "And I know that you can get through this too."
Dick let out an almost shaky breath, looking down at his hand in yours, his eyes burning from said tears and his cheeks warm with blush. His heart raced as he tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. "Y/N, thank you." He whispered softly, looking back at you.
"Anytime, D." You replied, giving his hand a soft squeeze, your free hand reaching up to brush away the stubborn stray tear that began to slip down his cheek. Neither of you moved, not wanting to break this wonderful moment between you two. The sky grew darker, the sunset slowly disappearing behind a blanket of purple clouds, leaving a brilliant swath of stars scattered across its velvet expanse.
Dick could hear his pulse pounding in his ears and his chest growing tight. The warmth of your touch made it difficult to breathe. The desire to hold onto you, to keep you close to his side, and never let go was overwhelming. It was hard to look away from you now, despite the darkness surrounding you both. You were handsome at that moment - but you always were - your features illuminated by the soft moonlight. He gazed at you intently, his fingers gently stroking the skin of the back of your hand. A shiver ran down his spine, and goosebumps formed on his arms. The urge to lean forward and kiss you hit him like a freight train. This was new territory; a wave of uncertainty and nervousness went through him… The intensity of your gaze and the way your thumb brushed over your hand sent him reeling.
"It's getting late," He heard himself say, and you found yourself nodding.
"Yeah... Dinner might be getting cold." You both slowly broke away, his hand slipping from yours.
Dick looked overwhelmingly nervous as he pulled the collar of his superhero suit, "The rest of the team might be wondering where we are..."
"Yeah..." You answered, not really knowing what else to say as he turned and began to walk away, but at his pause, you watched as he quickly turned around and walked back to you. Before you knew it, he closed the distance between the two of you, his hand reaching to cup your face. And before you could say 'Titans go,' Dick leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was brief but sweet, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers racing through your body and igniting every nerve ending. When he drew back, his face was flushed and his expression radiant. His eyes shone with an unreadable expression, but he smiled as he looked at you; as usual, there was this understanding between the two of you.
"Room temperature pizza?" He asked with a smirk, holding out a hand to you.
You grinned, taking his offered hand, "Room temperature pizza." You echoed with a laugh, matching his grin with your own.
---
Main Masterlist | DC Masterlist
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darkacademicvibes · 10 months
Note
Hellooo! So I know you haven't posted in ages and you're probably busy or maybe not writing anymore but if you are and your requests are open... can you maybe do something for Theodore nott? If you don't write for him then maybe Barty Jr. Or Regulus or something?
Basically fem!reader is insecure and brings it up and he doesn't understand so she asks is they even love her anymore and they somehow propose right then and there? Like really tearful, and he's so hurt but he's also kind of blank about it idk and she says yes obvs, but he just doesn't know how to feel about what she asked?
Thankyouthankyouuuuu and if you aren't writing anymore that's totally understandable 🩵🩵🩵🩵
AHHHH YESSS I TOTALLY CAN BABES!!!
I'm always gonna write on this blog, lately I've really been trying to figure out my page and stuff and I just got done with exams so I've been busy, I'm sorry!!! I HOPE this lives up to expectations, I've never written an argument/yelling that turned to a proposal lmao <3
Look At Me
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tw: cursing, idk I like it, he's very much sweater Theo lmao, nothing really to be honest with you
"-God, Theo, it's like you're never here anymore!" You huff, busying yourself with the dishes of a dinner you ate alone, again. The sound of his name instead of the nickname you'd always called him made him flinch. Theodore Nott had been your boyfriend since the beginning of your seventh year at Hogwarts, and you'd fought together in the war on Harry's side. Or, McGonagalls side, as Theo preferred to call it.
After Hogwarts, you'd moved in together which you'd defended to your parents as convenience. And his, well, his mother got ill quick, and then got better, and then ill again, and she'd eventually found out after he'd invited her over to make sure she was okay, and you'd come home to your boyfriends mother on the couch having tea. You'd easily slipped into comfortable conversation with your loving boyfriend and his (absolutely wonderful) mother and she'd guessed it by morning when you'd made everyone pancakes as you'd been woken up early by Theo on his way to quiddich practice.
Lately, however, he'd been home less. In fact, it began at the beginning of the year, while it is now November. You celebrated your third year anniversary of fully owning the house (thanks to his family money's help) and as that morning when you woke up, he was gone, he came home giddy, and then that night, went to bed nervous. And things hadn't been the same. You'd marked that night on your calander once you realized that was the last afternoon before anything changed.
April 4th.
Since then, he'd barely be at home, which isn't saying a lot seeing as he was a professional player for the Montrose Magpies and sometimes was forced to be away for day practices that led well until you'd gone to bed and weekend games that you always made sure to see.
He'd started getting up earlier, and going to bed either well before, or well after you. When you were wide awake, or fast asleep. Sometimes, he'd sleep in the guest room downstairs, instead.
He'd stopped with the casual kisses everytime he left the room, no longer pressing kisses to your temple, cheek, nose, shoulder, or head, and started passing by in silence, answering requests with hums, grunts, and nods. Your brother had joked he was finally going through the 'I hate my girlfriend' phase, but quickly shut up when you'd choked out a strangled breath that sounded like you'd taken a bludger to the stomach.
The thought hasn't left your mind since.
"I'm here now" Theo presses, standing behind the kitchen island, his hands braced firmly on the edges of the bench, gripping tightly. You scoff, scrubbing the pan harshly. Who invented pans that weren't non-stick? You wanted to hit them with your pan, your pan that now had bits of food and grease stuck to it.
"Theo this is the eighth night in a row I've had to put your dinner in the microwave" you give up on the pan, abandoning it on the bench and moving on to the pot you'd made the potatoes in. It was your day off, and Theo was supposed to be home at four, so you'd made a full dinner for you to eat together. A mistake, you now realized, as you didn't eat until seven when your food had already gone cold, and he hadn't come home until nine, when you'd usually do the dishes. He did them right after dinner for some unexplainable reason you didn't quite understand. Through, you were the one who grew up with supper. So you always made it and did dishes after.
"I told you not to count on me being home on time, bambino" he breathes, and you sniff, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist. He had, yesterday, but not today. "I wrote it down and left it on the kitchen counter-" a soft mew interrupts him, and you listen to the sound of him scooping up the neighbors cat.
"Pie, you shouldn't be here, your mama will be looking for you" you coo, glancing back at the soft, light brown cat. "She can stay" Theodore murmurs, cuddling the cat close. A pang of anger flashed through your stomach. That cat was getting more affection from your boyfriend then you'd gotten for most of the year. "No, she can't" your voice is snappy, and he sighs, kissing the top of Pies head and opening the back door, placing Pie outside and closing the door again before leaning against the wood, watching you.
"I don't understand what I've done to make you so upset, amore" he murmurs, and you snap, tossing the potato pot and the rag into the sink, taking off the ridiculous yellow gloves and tossing them onto the bench.
"You are never here, Theo" you insist. "And you go god knows where, because you weren't at practice tonight" you continue, when Theo opens his mouth to argue, you glare at him. Your voice shakes, and that makes you angrier. "No! You weren't, I called Peter, he was at home with his wife and baby son at four fifteen" you snap, and hurt flashes in his eyes. You want to apologize, but you haven't done anything wrong, not that you're aware of. You have suffered, for months, wondering what you'd done wrong. You didn't understand. You don't understand.
"So where were you? Were you with someone else, someone you can stand? Because it's pretty clear you can't stand me anymore" you toss your hands up, abandoning the gloves as you return to cleaning the dishes as Theo makes his way closer, returning to the island counter as you ramble on.
"If you were then just tell me and be done with it, because this wondering, the guessing, the hoping you aren't, the subconsciously looking for proof that you have been, is killing me" you ramble on.
"It is absolutely tearing me apart to think you don't love me anymore, trying to find reasons that would have you pulling away because surely, if you don't love me then you'd leave me, right? Except, I don't know, I don't know what I did-" you place the pot aside and start working on your plate. His is still in the microwave. "-I can't figure it out. Tell me what I did wrong, because I can't keeping going like this for much longer" you sniffle, and the sound has the guilt already drowning him shove him down deeper.
"I mean, do you even love me anymore? Because it really just seems like you're sticking around for convenience" You manage to mumble, your voice shaking as tears prick harshly at your eyes. You try blinking them back, but you have to harshly wipe your cheek with the back of your arm as the feeling of a few hot tears warm your cheeks.
A soft click sound from behind you and in your confusion, you turn, pausing at the sight. Theo is leaning heavily against the counter, his shoulders tense as the small dark blue velvet box sits open on the table.
A delicate gold ring, with agate as the stone sits undisturbed in the box, and you can feel your breath escape you because it is beautiful.
"I was afraid you would say no" he admits, gazing at you through his dark lashes you'd frequently voiced that you were jealous of. "I was afraid you'd say no, and I pulled myself away from you, and I'm sorry for not noticing how it affected you" he breathes. Almost as breathless as you.
He slowly rounds the island, gently stopping to stand beside you.
His hands land on your waist, delicate. "ragazza dolce, how could you ever doubt my feelings for you?" He murmurs, his thumbs rubbing gently over the skin of your hips. The touch makes you pause and, slowly, you melt against his chest. "You haven't touched me like this since April fourth" you start softly, gaze still on the ring, and he tenses beside you.
Fuck, you'd actually remembered the date he held you last? He knew it had been a while, he had felt horrible about his nerves pulling him away from you, but you'd memorized the fucking date he'd last touched you, and it was so much longer then he'd thought.
"You barely answer me anymore, I start every conversation, and it's either tense, or it falls through so fast i-" you hesitate. "It makes me feel like you don't see the point in talking to me anymore" his heart shattered, he could hear it, feel it- you'd felt so horrible, miserable even, and it was his fault. He'd been so wrapped up in how he felt that he hadn't even noticed you'd been miserable. Lonely.
"I'm sorry, mio caro, I'm so sorry" he murmurs, pained, his lips brushing the crook of your neck gently.
His hands gently guide you to face him, and you allow him to lift your hands, drying them off gently. "C'mon sunshine, I'm sorry, look at me" he murmurs, gently tucking his forefinger under your chin to guide you to meet his eyes. "I have been so nervous that I started pulling away, and I am so sorry you felt this way, sweet girl, I promise I love you" he assures you gently, watercolour eyes gazing into yours deeply.
"There has never been, nor will there ever be, anyone else. You are it for me, you are my Andromeda, I'm your Perseus, remember?" He pleads softly, reminding you of the last time you'd been in Hogwarts.
The astronomy tower would probably crumble if you stood in the wrong spot, still, you (almost) fearlessly ventured closer to the calm figure leaning against the wall of the castle, not for one second, caring that he was sitting in rubble. Gazing at the stars. He smiles at you as you stand beside him, and he offers you his hand, which you take as he helps you to sit beside him safely.
"Feel up to stargazing, my love?" He murmured, and you smile softly, leaning your head on his shoulder as his hand rests easily on your thigh, rubbing gently despite the dust-covered fabric in the way of your skin. "Always" you hum. He huffs a soft laugh and sighs warmly. "You remember those stars?" He asks softly, pointing out the constellation, and you nod against his shoulder. Andromeda and Perseus, the chained maiden and her lover. Her savior. Her husband, in entirety. They'd been so in love they were placed in the stars so their love would never end.
"Yeah, I remember, it's your favourite myth" he smiles, and he presses a soft kiss to your head, smiling himself. You'd remembered it was his favourite.
"If I was Perseus, you'd be my Andromeda" he murmurs, and you smile softly, melting into him. "If I was Andromeda, you'd be my Perseus" you retort gently, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder as shouts of names, and calls of joy fill the night air.
The war is over. All is well.
"My father is dead" Theo hums. The way he says it was almost as if he'd simply noticed the time and pointed it out. He found more empathy for the roadkill the two of you had come across two weeks ago, a rabbit that had been hit by a carriage.
"I saw. Are you okay?" You ask gently.
"Yeah, I'm okay, as long as I have you, I'll always be more than okay" he hums, chuckling softly. "My mother will be okay now, she's safe" he sighs, the tension leaving him slightly.
"She is, Teddy" you smile, and as he wraps his arm around you to pull you impossibly closer, you both gaze at the sky and you do what you do best together.
You talk, and you stargaze.
You nod slowly, tears slipping down your cheeks, and he sighs softly in relief, his thumb swiping the tears away gently.
"I love you, so much. I'm sorry I let myself get in my head, I should've realized I was hurting you" he murmurs, his lips pressed against your hairline as he tucks a few strands behind your ear, his fingers trailing down your neck, then your shoulder, all the way to your hand, where he links your fingers together.
"Teddy, are you asking me to marry you?" You murmur softly, eyes gazing softly at the ring again. He hums, "will you say yes?" He murmurs softly, his thumb brushing against yours.
"I can't imagine a world where I'd consider saying no" you breathe, and you can feel his lips tug into a giddy smile against your temple. He pulls away, only enough to reach the ring, and gently hums.
"Look at me, bellissimo"
Your eyes meet his and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, the familiar softness of it almost making you swoon.
"Will you, the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on, make me the absolute happiest man alive, and do me the honor of making me your husband?" He asks quietly, his lips brushing yours gently.
You smile, and nod softly, "that's a yes from me" you hum, "a big, fat, yes" you laugh, and he chuckles along with you, gazing softly at you as he slowly slips the ring onto your finger. "Good, now give me a big, fat, kiss" he demands playfully "I miss kissing my fiancé" he murmurs, and it sets off fireworks in your stomach.
You lean up and press a big, fat, kiss to his lips, just like he asked.
You giggle as he wraps his arms around you happily, tugging you closer and tapping your hip in the all too familiar signal to jump. You wrap your legs around him and he kisses you harder, his hands under your thighs.
"I have a lot to make up for" he mumbles, making his way into the living room and dropping you gently onto the couch, pulling a giggle from you.
"Remind me to tell Draco not to sit on this couch next time he comes over" you tease, and he laughs, loud, and happy, and the sound has you melting.
You have your Theo back, and he's not your boyfriend anymore, he's more, and you couldn't be happier.
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fangirleaconmigo · 6 months
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I've been going through some of your posts about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books recently because... well I'm back in my book/game phase I guess and I really wanted to know if there are any other Dandelion friendships you like from the books and why? Like him and Zoltan or with the other Hansa etc? [Personally I'm a big fan of what little we see of him with Regis and it always makes me weepy that he wrote a biography about him in the games and fondly remarks abt him smelling like herbs all the time]
Awww yayy thanks for spending some time on the ol blog. I absolutely love this question. I don't get to talk enough about Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and his relationship with Dandelion (for the newbies, that is Jaskier's name in the books) is so lovely.
Dandelion and Friendships
For those who are just joining us, Tea is talking about my series about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books.
I have also written posts about Dandelion's friendships with Ciri and Zoltan:
Dandelion and Ciri
Dandelion and Zoltan
And for this post, I'll focus on Regis and Dandelion's friendship, which I absolutely love.
Dandelion and Regis Friendship (books)
What really strikes me about Regis and Dandelion, is just how patient and kind Regis is with Dandelion. Sometimes it is almost like he’s dealing with a child he cares about. Considering Regis’s age (over four centuries old), Dandelion (approx in his thirties when they meet) IS a child. 
On top of that, Dandy’s personality is rife with traits often associated with kids:
insatiable curiosity to the point where he endangers his own life, (when they go into the forest or sea, Geralt has to essentially, follow right behind him like you would a toddler),
hyper enthusiasm about every discovery he makes, (he whispers in awe when he sees mandrake for the first time, that’s just how he reacts to everything new)
his inability to censor himself or stop asking questions even when everyone else wants him to shut up (he will ask until he understands, no matter the social cues happening)
the way he will act incredibly transparent and awkward while thinking he is being subtle and smooth
Perhaps that is why Regis seems to be so indulgent of him. And somehow their personalities just fit naturally.
Regis’s most annoying trait is to lecture people at length like a professor and cut people off who are asking a question, since he is too eager to answer it. The vampire loves to hold forth on a topic.
Dandelion’s annoying trait (one of many, bless, we know he can't keep it in his pants either) is to ask questions incessantly. In that way, they really kind of fit together. 
Geralt loses patience when Dandelion is being socially inappropriate by asking too many questions. Geralt really values discretion and manners.
Regis is more willing to spend time explaining things and to open up.
Early in the hansa's time together, (before he manages to surprise folks several times over) Dandelion is often seen as the one who is in way over his head. Everyone else is a warrior or a soldier. Dandelion is the soft one. To add to the indignity, Geralt is angry at him during Baptism of Fire because Dandelion keeps forcing him to make friends (well, to ask for help)
Yet Regis, the new guy, is the one who always makes sure Dandelion isn't embarrassed or ashamed.
Here’s a few examples.
When Dandelion is given a bloody head wound by an arrow, the poet is howling and shrieking. He thinks he's dead already. He is not a stoic man. It is played comedically, but Geralt is also legitimately terrified that he will lose Dandelion. That bit is not played comedically.
But given the circumstances, the rest of them could be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the poet's dramatics.
But Regis (who is treating his wounds as the resident barber surgeon) does not.
Regis speaks to him so soothingly, and kindly. (I am omitting the Geralt dramz because I will get off topic lol)
Dandelion groaned and took a sharp intake of breath....
“I’ll put in a few stitches,” Regis said...”Be brave, Dandelion.”
Dandelion was brave.
“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion, you’ll be right as rain. The wound’s just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around you head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound....”
And when it is revealed that Regis is a vampire, and Dandelion is afraid of him, Regis is incredibly patient and kind about the whole thing. He does not take offense. Geralt does! (Ironic, considering Geralt ran Regis off, but Geralt, bless, is dealing with a clusterfuck of feelings about the vampire and everything else going on in his life.)
But yes, after Geralt tells Dandelion about Regis, Dandelion is scared, and wants to seek reassurance. But the poet (unbeknownst to him it seems) is awkward and bad at it. He tries to bring up the issue with the subtlety of a sledge hammer.
Dandelion...deciding to clear up the uncertainty..began as soon as they set off. With his usual tact.
(I like that. His usual tact. Meaning, zero tact lmaoooooo.)
“Milva,” he suddenly called as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire. “...I fancy eating a hunk of real meat for a change! How about you, Regis?”
Yeah. Real subtle Dandelion.
“I beg your pardon?’ the vampire said, lifting his head from the horse’s neck. 
“Meat!” the poet repeated emphatically. “...fancy some fresh meat?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And blood. Would you like some fresh blood?”
“Blood?” Regis asked, swallowing. “No. I’ll decline the blood. But if you have a taste for some, feel free.”
Geralt, Milva and Cahir observed an awkward, sepulchral silence.
I love that. Awkward sepulchral silence. Dandelion causes a lot of those. But Regis does not dismiss him or laugh. He reassures him.
“I know what this is about, Dandelion,” Regis said slowly, “And let me reassure you. I’m a vampire, but I don’t drink blood.”
The silence became as heavy as lead. But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent.
But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent. (sorry I am laughing every other line at this part)
“You must have misunderstood me,” he said, seemingly lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean-”
“I don’t drink blood,” Regis interrupted. “...I gave it up.”
Dandelion doesn’t know what that means and keeps pestering Regis to explain. Geralt is embarrassed and tells Dandy to shut up.
However, Regis opens up around the camp fire that night. He tells his life story, and says he hasn’t drank blood in fifty years. Dandelion is incredulous. 
“Not at all?” Dandelion said, and stuttered. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Not at all? Never? But...?”
Geralt is embarrassed again and shuts him down again. Regis, by contrast, is patient and defends Dandelion.
“I beg your pardon,” the poet grunted.
“Don’t apologize,” the vampire said placatingly, “And Geralt, don’t chasten him. I understand his curiosity.”
Baptism of Fire 291-295
That's right. Don't chasten him Geralt.
Regis and Dandelion also just have a wonderful dynamic of picking on each other.
Dandelion teases Regis about his long ass name.
And Regis has a great time teasing Dandelion lovingly. In one scene, Geralt and Regis team up to pick on Dandelion and the secretive way he treats his writing. Dandelion has stolen some paper and pencil from a Lyrian military convoy and is writing whenever they make camp, but gets testy whenever anyone gets near him or looks at his manuscript.
Geralt is good-naturedly giving Dandelion a hard time and Regis jumps in with such adorable relish. (Also, in this scene, we find out that Regis actually named Dandelion's memoirs)
"Indeed," the witcher joined in...."You've become devilishly touchy, Dandelion. One cannot fail to notice that it is somehow connected to the paper which you have recently begun to deface with a bit of lead while we camp." “It’s true,” Regis agreed, “our minstrel has become touchy, not to say secretive, discreet, and loving of solitude recently. Oh no, having witnesses when performing his natural needs doesn't bother him at all...His shameful secrecy and oversensitivity to being watched extends solely to his scribbled notes. Is, perhaps, a poem being written in our presence? A rhapsody? And epic? A romance? A canzone?”
He's like, you don't care who sees you piss and shit, but oh this you care about. lol. Tell us about the poem. But Geralt objects.
“No,” Geralt retorted...”I know him. It can’t be verse, because he’s not cursing, mumbling, or counting the syllables on his fingers. He’s writing in silence, so it must be prose.”
“Prose!” The vampire flashed his pointed fangs - which he really tried not to do. “A novel perhaps? Or an essay? A morality play? Dammit, Dandelion! Don’t torture us so! Reveal what you are writing?”
Dandelion says it is a memoir called Fifty Years of Poetry. Regis says that A Half Century of Poetry sounds better.
“Thanks, Regis, Something constructive at last.”
P 88 -90 The Tower of the Swallow
I admit I'm such a sucker (hehe no pun intended) for whenever Regis's fangs are mentioned, whether he is hiding them, baring them, or unselfconsciously showing them during a warm, silly moment with his friends. (Sobs, I love this vampire, seriously I need an intervention)
Regis also comforts Dandelion openly when the poet is doubting his courage or fitness for a task.
Later in the book, Geralt volunteers for a bloody job/violence for hire that terrifies Dandelion, so the poet protests the plan. Geralt insists he’ll do it alone.
But no! He has a hansa now! He won't be alone! Angoulême volunteers to go. Cahir says he’s coming with as well. Then Milva insists she is coming.
Dandelion freezes.
It would be like the LOTR ‘and my bow and my axe’ yadda yadda scene, but if there was one person left and when it got to them, everyone turned around and looked and they are just standing there frozen like....motherfuck this is scary idk idk wtf do I do. And the way this next paragraph is written, it pleases me.
Dandelion...was evidently struggling with his thoughts. And the thoughts were winning.
lmaooo
And Regis jumps in "kindly." He shows solidarity with Dandelion, and takes the heat by calling himself a coward.
“Stop meditating, poet,” Regis said kindly. For there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re even less cut out to participate in a bloody swordfight than I am. We weren’t taught to carve up our neighbors with a blade. Furthermore...furthermore..,” he raised shining eyes towards Geralt and Milva, “I’m...a coward,” he confessed curtly.
They keep arguing amongst themselves because Geralt believes they have been spied on. And Regis is just...always soft with Dandelion. When Dandelion starts guessing about who is spying on them, and is beginning to ramble incorrectly,
“You’re mistaken, Dandelion,” Regis softly interjected.
The Tower of the Swallow p 182
It's Regis's gentleness that just fuckn kills me. That's always the character that's gonna get me right between the ribs with a shank. (Metaphorically, Regis is too gentle for that)the one that lives in a horror filled, violent, cruel world and is still just kind, even to the loud, awkward, soft, obnoxious poet who is in over his head and is afraid you'll bite him in his sleep and who shrieks when he is wounded.
Geralt and Dandelion are so sassy and old/married with each other, deeply, proudly loving in actions, but always bickering.
It's sweet to see Dandelion have a friendship like the one he has with Regis.
It is so nice to hear that the games continued his love of Regis. (I haven't played them, so I get my info about them from you guys XD)
So thanks again for following me and for the ask! I hope I've done ok answering. I also love Dandy's dynamic with Nenneke and ofc Yen, but I'll stop there.
Hope your week goes really well. x
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one-flower-one-sword · 6 months
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Hello! I love reading your analyses. What are your thoughts on Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu?
Thank you for your ask! I'm so happy you like reading my posts, that really means a lot to me ;_;
Okay so I really like both Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu as individual characters and also their relationship, I don't know if I have anything interesting to say about them though ;A; but I'll give it a try!
First thing that comes to my mind is really how what happens with the both of them once they're in heaven is such good evidence of how toxic the work environment and the power structures up there are. Everything they already struggled with in their sect is even worse; the jealousy, the bullying, the intolerance, the abuse of power. Quan Yizhen was drawn to Yin Yu because of Yin Yu's kindness, but I think he could tell that the pressure to conform to heaven's power structures was starting to chip away at it:
Quan Yizhen kept going. "They cussed at me first. I don't even know them. They said I was a low-ranking heavenly official and yelled at me for no reason, then they laughed at me and told me to scram and not to block their way. I told them to apologize, and they wouldn't, so I beat them up. They only shut up when I beat them up, otherwise I wouldn't have hit them."
Things were considerably more peaceful in the current time*, but in the early days, some heavenly officials - from both the Upper and Lower Courts - would throw their weight around and bully lower ranked officials with less experience. Yin Yu sighed.
"Are lower-ranked heavenly officials beneath other people?" Quan Yizhen asked.
"No," Yin Yu replied.
Was that true? It was obvious that he didn't believe his own words, and Quan Yizhen noticed.
Quan Yizhen, who hasn't ascended yet, declares that he doesn't like heaven, and when Yin Yu admits to the same, Quan Yizhen suggests that they go back to the human realm. But Yin Yu is deeply caught up in what's essentially sunk-cost fallacy; because ascending to heaven was both his dream and quite hard for him, he wants to stay even though it's making him increasingly unhappy. He can't face the fact that his dream has turned out utterly disappointing.
I think they're also a good case of why it's downright impossible for individuals to change the power structures of the environment they find themselves in on their own - Yin Yu tries to conform and to get by with smoothing over conflict whenever it happens, essentially just forcing himself to endure it all quietly. Meanwhile Quan Yizhen rightfully doesn't understand why he should let himself be mistreated and pushes back, though that also essentially doesn't change their situation and only leads to more pressure being put on the two of them. From his perspective, leaving is the best choice since life in the sect, where he was simply left to train all day, was much better for him. But it's also understandable that from Yin Yu's perspective, it wouldn't be much better since he'd already been having similar problems back then with people expecting him to manage and control Quan Yizhen.
Plus, Yin Yu is very conscious of the opinions and expectations of the people around him and quite anxious to fulfill said expectations - I can imagine that he wouldn't know how to deal with his sect's reaction if he, a cultivator who had received the ultimate honor of ascension, were to reject said honor and go back to being mortal. Kind of ironic to think that once he's banished, he will start working for a ghost who did reject his own ascension.
*Minor aside, since this it's from when Xie Lian was watching those events unfold, I think it's less that things are actually more peaceful now and more that Xie Lian doesn't yet know how deeply the corruption of the heavens really runs and how bad things really are. Plus, he overall spends very little time in heaven, so I don't think we can fault him for having this impression.
Speaking of Xie Lian, I find it very telling that the ghost realm, and specifically Ghost City - the one single autonomous place within all three realms - eventually becomes both his and Yin Yu's home. I know people joke a lot about Yin Yu deserving a raise and such, but I think they forget what it actually means that he's the right-hand man of Hua Cheng, given that Hua Cheng holds so much power and influence in all three realms that he's the only one Jun Wu is genuinely wary about. That's an incredibly high position, not to mention the level of trust Hua Cheng shows Yin Yu, like in the amnesia extra when he sends him to deal with the monster that stole Xie Lian's memories. I'm going to get more into this in the Yin Yu-centric meta I've been working on though.
One thing I've been thinking on as I'm drafting this reply is that I feel what ties all four of these characters together is how their relationships started because of acts of kindness, both big and small, and the long-lasting effects thereof.
Like for Xie Lian and Hua Cheng I think no explanation is needed. Then Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu's relationship started when Yin Yu asked his shifu to take Quan Yizhen in to their sect when he met him as an abandoned child that really wanted to learn martial arts and got beaten up by adults for it. Then Quan Yizhen's friendship with Xie Lian started because when that play that very cruelly mocked Yin Yu was shown in heaven, Xie Lian was the only one that cared how upset it made Quan Yizhen and threw a chopstick to make the curtains fall.
And I feel like for Yin Yu, it might be the same with Hua Cheng, who he stays loyal to because Hua Cheng was the only one to help him and the one to take him in when all of heaven abandoned him:
"Chengzhu has shown me grace. He saved me -"
"I know," Jun Wu said. "He even helped you pacify and send off Jian Yu's vengeful spirit after he died during your banishment, am I right?"
Hua Cheng right from the start is described as someone who, despite being a Ghost King, is known to sometimes do "odd acts of kindness", and I feel that taking Yin Yu in was one of those. Because think about it - by the time Yin Yu is banished, He Xuan has already infiltrated the heavens, so there's not really any valuable Intel to be gained from taking Yin Yu with him. I can't really imagine Hua Cheng doing it just to spite the heavens either, at least not completely, since he lets Yin Yu hide his identity and apparently no one (except apparently Jun Wu) knew where Yin Yu even was for years. But I can imagine Hua Cheng coming across Yin Yu - a god banished and shackled, abandoned and mocked by all of heaven, punished essentially for someone else's choices but taking the blame regardless, accompanied only by a wrath ghost - who might that have reminded him of?
Sorry, I feel like i probably ended up talking about lots of other things than what your question was about. It's when I start thinking about the themes and stuff in this novel I can't stop ;A; Feel free to ask a follow-up question(s) if I got too off-topic!
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hanalulugguk · 2 months
Text
Don't you like me? Humble yourself
Part of Sweet - a Gojo Satoru mini series
Two
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Note: it fills my heart with so much love to see people enjoy what i post, even if my writing is rusty from years of not making anything , i'm still happy to put stuff out and have your support help me grow. thank you, i hope u enjoy my version of madly in love and infatuated satoru, my favourite genre of men!
also heads up, this fic is short. there’ll be 6-10 chapters max with what i have planned out and i don’t intend on extending the plot, this is purely focused on gojo and the reader’s current back n forth pinning <3
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Warnings: none for this chapter
unedited
< Chapter 1
The next day you’re heading to your assigned classroom a few minutes before it’s 11. The halls are silent, as they always are, save for the sound of your shoes on the wooden floor boards. There’s already a light on inside the classroom when you reach it, there’s a quick shuffling noise inside when you’re standing in front of it. 
Pushing the door to the side you’re met with gojo in the chair by the main desk. His long legs propped over the desk as he leans back in the chair, a book in his hand, held upside down. You fail to hold back the chuckle that makes it’s way out of your mouth before stepping inside and sliding the door shut. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask as you make your way around the desk to stand behind him, “you asked me to come.” he replies nonchalantly and you hum in response, “fine, what are you doing here early?” you ask further and he shrugs.
“Was done with what i had to do early so i thought i’d come here and read a bit.” he explains lazily as if he couldn’t be bothered and you nod in response. “And are you practicing reading upside down?” you ask, giving his shoulder a quick poke as you round the desk once more, you don’t see him quickly turn the book around to look at the cover to notice it is in fact upside down in his hands. He face palms before tossing the book on the desk and removing his feet off the desk.
He watches you open the material cabinet to look through it, “i can read upside down,” he lies as he leans back again in his chair, arms crossed as he keeps his eyes on you, he notices your shoulder shake with a laugh. “You’re the greatest, i won’t doubt it.” he huffs in annoyance as you close the cabinet and make your way back with a long green roll of chart paper. “Don’t poke fun at me,” his tone is somewhat bitter as he watches you unwrap some and lay it over the desk, you glance at him to see him already looking at you, eyes piercing. 
“Since when do i poke fun at you, satoru?” you ask and he doesn’t respond, watching as you rip the paper up before folding it to divide it into 12 equal smaller pieces. The sound of light footsteps can be heard outside the classroom before the door slides open to reveal 2 students. The adorable boy with the pink hair and the one with black spiky hair. 
“Morning,” you greet as the two step in, the boy with a pink hair has a beaming smile as he waves, “it’s almost afternoon.” the boy with black hair responds. You hum in agreement, “it is. Almost good afternoon then.” he glances at you sideways as he takes a seat in the desk at the front. 
The other boy steps towards you, extending his hand to you, “i’m itadori yuji,” you take his hand in yours, “nice to meet you yuji,” you offer him a smile, making his grow bigger. He turns to his friend who is now looking out the window from where he was seated. “That’s megumi,”
“Hi megumi,” you greet but he doesn’t spare you a glance, just a small nod. “He’s really grumpy.” you whisper to yuji and he nods with a giggle. “He is, but he’s really sweet, he just acts like he doesn’t care.” yuji explains in an equality hushed tone. You nod in understanding and give him a small thumbs up before he turns to go to his seat next to megumi. “Thank you for coming early.”
“Of course, megumi woke me up early so we won’t be late.” you turn to megumi who gives you a shy glance, small blush creeping near the base of his neck. You choose to not comment on it to spare him. Within minutes the class fills with the other 4 students. 
“I won’t bore you with a big boastful speech about everything i’ve done and what i can teach you, it would be frugal if i can’t live up to it so we’ll just manage together.”
“Gojo sensei would’ve talk about himself only,” the girl with orange hair, whom you’ve come to learn is nobara, mumbles but obviously she was intending for it to be heard. She earns a few giggles from yuji and toge, the student with cursed speech technique, as gojo lifts his head off his palm where he was seated in the corner of the room near you, “hey, that’s rude i’m your teacher.” he points and nobara puffs before rolling her eyes at him. “You don’t teach us anything you just throw us on missions and leave us to fiend for ourselves.” 
“How else do you expect to learn?” he banters with the teenager before u nudge his chair, he looks up at you and your raised brow before takes it as his warning to stop. You turn to nobara and nod, “you’re right, he does boast about himself a lot.” gojo opens his mouth to protest but decides against it when you turn to grab the green paper squares you cut up prior. 
You place one on each of their desks, handing them a pen along with it. “Write your name, grade and technique, then fold it tightly, we’ll do a raffle for pairs and we’ll base training off it for the next month.” you place the rest of the papers on the desk and leaning against the table as you wait for them to finish. You turn to gojo who was sulking with a grim look on his face, you nudge his shoulder with your pointer finger but he doesn’t glance your way, keeping his eyes on his students as they finish the task. 
“Don’t sulk,” you poke, turning back to the students. 
“I’m not sulking,” he responds without turning to you, you pat his back with a smile before going to grab the papers from toge and maki who are done, before taking them from the rest as well once they’re done to do the raffle.
It’s 12:30 when you’re done, having talked them through what the next month will look like, the theoretical and practical aspect of the class, after having divided them into groups. Maki and megumi, nobara and panda, yuji and toge. They slowly file out as you wait for them to leave before you do. Nobara and yuji turn to you before they’re out the door to give you a big smile as they wave, giving you a cheery goodbye as you wave back. 
“They like you.” gojo points out, remaining in his seat where he was the whole class. He was moderately decent which you weren’t expecting, save for the teasing he would give megumi about being a nerd when he would be able to answer any of your questions, and the boastful comments directed at yuji who would beam at the praise. 
“Hmm, who wouldn’t.” you counter sliding the door closed and turning to him, he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair before raising his brows at you. “You’re not that likeable.” 
“Don’t you like me?” you ask and he diverts his eyes from you to the window, cheeks a light pink and it’s all the answer you need. “Humble yourself.” he retorts and you laugh at the bold jab coming from him. “Like you? Sure thing satoru.” you go to toss away the papers left from the raffle before tossing the unused ones in the desk’s drawer. 
“I’m hungry.” you point out and gojo shrugs. “Go eat,” he quips, staring you down. “Aren’t you? Come get something to eat with me.” you urge him as you push the door open and wait for him. “What makes you think i’m free?”
“Well are you?” you ask and he stays silent rather than giving you an answer, “stop being stubborn. Let’s go.” you don’t wait for him to give you a response, taking the initiative to make your way down the wall. You don’t need to look back to make sure he’s following, hearing his light jog before he catches up to you, matching your pace once he’s next to you. 
Silently he leads you to the cafeteria, once you enter you notice the students are all there, but on the other end of the cafeteria joking and reprimanding each other in loud voices. You turn to gojo to see he’s already making his way to them, “where are you going?” you ask, making him pause and turn to you puzzled, his brows furrowed and top lip tucked to the side. “To sit with my students?” he answers your question with a confused one of his own. 
“We can sit together, thought you’d want to talk. Y’know, since we didn’t get to yesterday.” you tease and the angry blush on his cheek is almost impossible to miss, he tenses as he straightens his back, abnormally stiff. You chuckle at the granted reaction from gojo every time. He doesn’t move from his spot so you take a step closer to tug on his uniform sleeve to pull him towards the closest table before he snatches his arm from you. 
You turn to him, confused before he’s pointing behind his back, “i’ll go grab our trays.” you offers a simple explanation, taking a slow step back before you nod, at your approval gojo almost skirts in the direction of the food. 
You take a seat at the table you’re at to wait for him. You’re not entirely sure how the conversation would go, as much as you missed gojo, his usually unlikable gloating and spirit, his jabs and teases that don’t always transcend to you. The two of you have always had a different dynamic, or at least on gojo’s end it was different. He treated you different than everyone else around him.
When it came to you his mannerism were always subdued, and it always seemed unintentional. With the rest his front is accepted and his teasing is seen as arrogant and self boasting, but it may be that you see past his front being what sets that difference between you and everyone else. 
It made sense, his narrow vision with the way he was raised. Being told you were the strongest from birth does plant an abnormally sized ego. You’re almost positive that had gojo been present during the sinking of the titanic, he could’ve saved the day, ego afloat with everyone on it. But you excuse him, it’s not easy to unlearn something rooted so deeply in you. It may have granted him hate from everyone else, but you disregard it, which is what helps you see past it.
And it may be that exact empathy and forgiveness you grant him for his actions that has always made him attached to you in a more pristine way than shoko and suguru. Their relationship was definitely incomparable, but so was yours. Where gojo was met with an eye roll  and an annoyed scoff at his teasing towards others, with you he’d be met with an eye roll and a nudge by your foot but not without a smile and a light giggle. 
It made it easy to know you do not see him in the same light as others, not as a title, not as a saviour, and you weren’t dependant on his existence to slack on your end, did not see him as the object others did. And that’s why he’d come to you. On light nights where he’d need some fresh air, on the days where carrying the burden of the strongest would be more than a teenager could bear, choosing to co-exist in silence as he stayed in your room whilst you read, or playing with your things as you cleaned your room. 
He’d come to you, the only time he’d be the one to turn to someone would be you. But the barrier placed between the two of you when your best friend had opted for the path that he did, affecting him world’s greater than it did you, was always a heavy weight between you. Even if he tried to bear it for the sake of your relationship. 
You’re brought back by the sound of the metal tray being placed in front of you. You look up at satoru who takes his seat across from you. Your tray was filled just how you liked it, and you do not doubt that it was a conscious effort on his end. Your plate had more stir fried rice than meat, your soup had extra tofu in it and he had given you his piece of watermelon as the choice of seasonal fruit knowing how the fruit was your favourite part of hot summers.
“Thank you,” he nods at you, moving the tofu in his soup around before digging in. it’s quiet for only a bit, the two of you finishing your soup, gojo feeling a metaphorical itch as he waits for you to talk first, not wanting to seem eager. But when you don’t, and he’s sure you do it on purpose, he goes first.
“So where were you?” he asks, attempting to seem nonchalant, as he doesn’t look up from his almost empty bowl of soup. 
“Recently, europe. We were looking for special grade cursed objects.”
“We?” he looks up as you place your empty bowl aside, you nod before looking up at him, even whilst seated he almost towers over you in his seat. “We, i was with aiki she’s a first grade sorcerer from spain, she was helping me navigate the area.” 
“And before that?” he pushes further as he watches you pick at the rice on your plate. “Kinda all over,” you offer and he waits for you to continue. 
“I was going from city to city outside of asia with leads on unidentified terrorism that would be reported, there’s a large lack of sorcerers abroad so i was doing the most i could. Like i said i would back in school.” gojo has an almost supine smile as he shakes his head.
“Of course, like you always said,” his tone is passive and you choose to try and move past it, “of course, i’m always honest.” you try and joke to lighten his sudden disdained demeanour that suddenly took place. 
You hear as gojo mumbles a quiet, and obviously sarcastic ‘of course’ and so you reevaluate and decide that maybe it would actually be best to address his backhanded comment. “I’d prefer if you were more direct with me.” you try to urge him as you nudge your plate away from you to focus on him and his almost angry bite he takes from his food.
“And i would have preferred if you were honest with me,” he speaks with a mouthful of food, thank god nothing that escapes his mouth lands on you, as he sulk back in his seat after dropping his chopsticks on his plate. 
You furrow your brows, but you’re not sure if it’s at the tone, his attitude or his accusation that you had lied to him before, which doesn’t bring up anything you can recall, and you’re positive there’s nothing to. “I’ve never lied to you, satoru.” your tone is gentle as you almost try to coax him out of his sunken state, similar to that you’d use with a child who’s upset their parent’s came back from the store without their favourite snack.
“You said you’d stay after graduation,” he almost mumbles as he obviously struggles to say it. Your brows furrow further as you lean back in your own seat, “when did i promise that?” you ask, genuine confusion on your face as you fail to think of a time when you would make that claim, knowing very well it’s not something you had ever considered. 
“That day when we snuck out, by the joganji river.” his words are quiet, almost in a whisper, and you realize how your words may have betrayed you and you wished you had picked them better. That night the two of you spent on the edges of joganji river, when it’s water was still a crystal blue and was still the house of many kinds of small fish, now an almost dried polluted body of water. 
You can see the visible sinking in his shoulders as you take longer than he anticipated for you to answer. “I’ve always told you i’d leave satoru, i’ve always told you this kind of life wasn’t for me.” 
“But you told me you’d wait,” he leans closer, forearms resting on the table between the two of you, you feel almost embarrassed. You couldn’t deny him, couldn’t tell him that he mistook your words when you spoke them, but you also felt embarrassed to admit it. 
Your mouth opens and closes as you fail to find something to say, fully aware that there’s nothing you can say that will comfort him, because from his point of view, it’s almost impossible to have interpreted your words any other way. And somehow, you feel like you would be lying if you deny, because you’re not entirely sure if that was what your teenage self had meant to say, because you feel that it may be. 
Gojo notices your hesitation, your struggle to respond back with anything. He saves you the trouble and grabs the trays, both yours and his, with whatever left over cold food it has, but not before handing you a slice watermelon, as he goes to discard them. You munch on it slowly as your eyes follow his sunken saunter to the bin, rolling his shoulder to dissipate any strain in them. In your peripheral you’re able to catch the gossiping students and their not so sneaky glances your way. 
You give them a grin and small wave as they turn to act as though they weren’t just watching the pair of you. 
“Do you have anything else for the rest of the day?” gojo asks once he’s back at your table, towering over you as he stands by your chair, “i wanted to go see shoko,” you suggest and he nods. “Nanami is here too, if you want to see him.” at the mention of his name you perk up, placing your hand over your lips as gojo scoffs with a small smirk on his face. 
“Be a little less obvious,” although he sounds bitter, you can tell his words are light and they don’t carry an ill intent. “Let’s go then.” you push your chair back as you follow gojo, leading you to where your old friends are.
Pending; chapter 3
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anjaelle · 1 year
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Aged up Dave Lizewski x reader (they're friends) were she's a villain and her dad is a bionics specialist so she has bionic abilities and her and kick-ass fight but they both get seriously injured and the next day everyone meets up at the comic store and you both noticed familiar scratches/cuts so you decide to talk about it privately but instead of getting mad you geek over eachother and end up becoming closer.
@caloetta So I changed it a little bit while keeping the same general idea. I hope you still like it.
Pairing: Post-Grad!Dave Lizewski x Villain!Reader
Warnings: Bruising & Battering, Knife Injury, Language
a/n: I had to dip into the Wiki because I could remember a lot about the character, but not as much as I thought lol
Send me requests and prompts here!
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He caught on early that you didn't know. Beyond the mask and the sleek bionic bodysuit, he could see the telltale quirk in your eyebrow and the way you flexed your right hand in frustration.
He wanted to believe that calling your name would end the fight. But he knew your father. He knew that you didn't have a choice. It was either kill or be killed with him, and Dave was absolutely not going to kill you.
He also didn't want to die. So he had to whip out the unexpected third option: tire you out, deflect, and run like a little bitch. He felt himself getting pummeled as he blocked each of the extremely painful punches you landed onto his forearms and legs.
"Fight back!" You grunted in anger, throwing another blocked right hook, "God damn it, fight back!"
He noticed your moves getting sloppy as you struggled to understand where the fight was going. You knew he was holding back, and he knew you had something to prove. He saw an opening and took it, kicking you square in the chest and across the room. You hit a pillar and fell to the ground, struggling to get the air back into your lungs.
"Mother...fuck..." you gasped, coughing.
Worried that you were seriously injured, Dave took a step towards you with raised hands, "I'm sorry, I had to--UGH!"
A large knife flew across the room, burying itself deep in the palm of his hand with expert precision, missing every single important tendon but still deep enough to cause a LOT of bleeding.
"Gotcha, you piece of shit." You groaned, rolling over onto your back in exhaustion. Despite the protection the suit gave you, you were still new to this. It was no wonder your father let you practice the tech on someone like him. After all, who was Kick-Ass in the grand scheme of things? Low-level street vigilante? Just some guy?
He took a deep breath and pulled the knife out, letting out a string of slurred vulgarities. The knife had an intricate design on the flat of the blade, with your initials etched in just above the fancily designed handle. It looked like it was a gift from your father.
"Whoa, this is nice."
Your suit hummed as it examined your vitals and whirred to repair any damage. You grunted, "Please, shut the fuck up and go before I murder you."
His stomach flipped when you showed up for work at the shop two days later, holding your ribs and walking with a slight limp. He immediately felt the rush of guilt for kicking you into a concrete pillar, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. The bandage wrapped around his hand and the stitches underneath were punishment enough. As you leaned up against a shelf of comics to collect yourself, you locked eyes with him and pursed your lips.
"You look like garbage," you said. And then he saw the smile creeping up on your lips when you glanced at his bandaged hand, "Whose little sister beat your ass?"
There was a beat of silence between you as he tried to figure out if you were messing with him or not.
"The same one that beat yours, apparently," he quirked an eyebrow and you briefly matched his expression before dragging your feet to the counter. You leaned in close to him, conspiratorially.
"I want my knife back," you whispered.
He shrugged nonchalantly, peeking over your shoulder to watch the customers mill through the aisles, "I feel like you should've thought about that before throwing it at me."
You plastered a laid back smile on your face as a customer approached the counter with a stack of graphic novels, and you leaned forward on your elbows.
"How did you figure it out?"
Dave absentmindedly scanned each book and placed them in the protective wrapping like it was second nature. You were bold for choosing to have this discussion in front of a civilian, but that didn't seem to surprise him. You loved dabbling in risky behavior in college. Why would anything change 5 years after you left?
"You've got a tell," he admitted, "and...c'mon. I know you like the back of my fucked up hand."
He waved his bandaged hand around for emphasis and you snorted, not feeling the least bit guilty. You were just impressed that your incredibly nerdy, overeager friend was capable of knocking the wind out of you. Ordinarily, you'd leap over the counter to the other side. But, considering the condition of your torso, you chose to take the long way. As you pathetically limped around the back to enter the back room, you could feel his eyes trailing you over the customer's head.
"Let me see." He said, shutting the backroom door behind him. You sighed as you slipped on your sneaker, rolling your eyes.
"It's not that bad."
"If it's not that bad, you'll let me see the damage."
God, he was such a boy scout sometimes. "If you wanted me to take my top off, you could just ask."
You could feel him burning holes into you as you slipped on your other shoe, and you actively avoided eye contact. In truth, he fucked you up bad. It would've been worse without the suit. The only reason you weren't mad was because you knew you got a few good licks in, too. His pretty face had a few bruises and scratches, so you could only imagine what the rest of him looked like.
"Dude..." he huffed, "Stop being a dickhead for five seconds and just show me what the fuck I did to you."
The concern was seeping into his voice and you wanted to ease his guilt. After all, he was just doing his job. It's not like you held a grudge.
You stood and lifted your shirt, exposing the black, purple, and blue bruises along your torso. He clenched his jaw.
When your father saw what Kick-Ass did, he had to be talked down from placing a hit out on him. You had to remind him that it was all a part of the job, and he needed to calm the hell down.
You also didn't want to lose one of the few friends you had.
He crossed the room in a few steps, reaching out to you in frustration.
"Jesus, I'm so sorry." But you scrunched your nose at him like he was insane.
"Why are you sorry? I beat your ass too. It's not like you got away scott free."
He hesitated and then gently ran his fingers along your tender skin to trace the outline of your brightest bruise. You suppressed a shudder, watching as he looked you over with equal parts curiosity, concern, and surprise.
"I had to take an ice bath when I got back to my apartment," he admitted, sheepishly, "I didn't even know you could fight like that."
Without warning, he lifted his shirt to show the numerous rapidly healing cuts and bruises along his very well defined torso. You were almost shocked at how far along his healing was, given the circumstances. All of that strangeness aside, you couldn't stop the exclamation that escaped your throat. It sounded like a mix of a gasp and a cough.
"When the shit did you get so ripped, Lizewski?"
He blushed a deep red. Because of course he did, the humble little bastard.
"You've seen me with my shirt off before."
"I'm sure I'd remember that if I had." You said, eyeing his injuries more closely. You noticed the distinct marks from your bionic suit, and noted that he was a lot stronger than you realized. The more you thought about it, maybe you were lucky that he liked you. You reached out to touch a yellowing bruise on his ribs.
"That's so weird," you said, "Why do your bruises look like that when mine don't."
"I dunno."
He was full of shit. But you wouldn't push.
"I still want my goddamn knife back. It's kind of important to me."
When you finally took a step back to look him over, you found him watching you with an amused look on his face.
"What?" You asked, cracking a grin.
He grinned back.
"You're just gonna have to take it from me."
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wibta if i refused to help my classmates going forward?
i am in university for a science degree. i have been struggling for almost my entire degree due to undiagnosed ADHD and autism, as well as my habit from grade school of working myself too hard. i went into burnout from 2020-2022 and failed most courses i took. i had to cut down on my work significantly so i could stay in university and finish my degree. it's been 5 years and i'm just over halfway finished. the end's not in sight yet, but it's getting there.
this semester, i'm taking two courses that i've struggled in previously and am retaking actually. the term will most likely be over once this is posted. one i've finished twice but didn't have a high enough grade to move forward (chemistry) and the other i've dropped 2 times before to avoid failing (calculus). the subject areas might give more context, and my chemistry course isn't introductory. they're also notoriously very difficult, and most people end up retaking this chemistry course several times. they're both needed for my degree and a similar degree. someone in both classes (2 different people) made group chats specifically so we could help each other. at first it was a very good idea, and i myself benefitted from them, managing to get a really high mark on a math assignment because of the group chat and sharing our work/processes.
this term is the one term we have a mid-semester break, and while the details are irrelevant here, i went away during this break, and i came back in a fairly poor mental state. i didn't want to share my work anymore, and said i was uncomfortable doing so. this got me mocked (i believe, but no one's commented on it or said anything to me about it) in my math class group chat when i asked for the notes after having to leave class early due to the noise. i have misophonia, and i was incredibly close to shouting "shut the fuck up" one say when they honestly just wouldn't stop talking. it's been a problem this term in this class where several groups in the class have been chatting amongst themselves during lecture. my friend (i think we're friends?) emailed our professor (i think i was named in the email), and he addressed the class about it, but as a whole, has told me directly that there wasn't much else he could do about it since they might be talking to each other to understand better.
at this point, there's only about 3 weeks left of classes and then finals, so it's not worth dropping out, especially since i don't think i'm in danger of failing. but that was all kind of just background info. it's been a rough semester for me.
in my chemistry class, we have weekly lab reports. they aren't huge, 10+ page reports, and i can usually do them in about 2-3 hours of work total. i usually work on them in small pieces throughout the week, so i can focus on other assignments as well as lectures. they're due at the beginning of lab, and we have lab on friday afternoons. this wouldn't be an issue if not for thursdays.
at the beginning of the semester, i made myself kinda known as Someone Who Has Answers. i like to help people when they're struggling, and i know that these are difficult classes, and i have past experience taking them with these instructors specifically, so i helped in any which way i could. after our mid-semester break, i was in no mood to help anyone. but on thursday evenings and friday mornings, i would get text messages from a few people asking me about the lab report. but not just a few messages. i would get asked on EVERY BIT of the lab report. i try to be patient, as i understand hidden struggles. but i was at the end of my rope. i never snapped, and i always tried to help them, but sometimes i was very frustrated because on thursdays, i have 2 classes (doesn't sound like a lot, but at my school, my lectures are 2-3 hours long, so it's about 5 hours total of lectures) at two different campuses, so i leave at about 7:30am and get home at about 5:30-6:00pm. it's my night to clean the kitchen as well, so my patience is very thin at the end of the day. i never agreed to help them, and they are texting me. i don't know how to tell them "i'm in no mood to help" but it made me so upset to the point that i was saying that next semester, i wouldn't give my number to anyone. i'm not a tutor, and i'm struggling to stay afloat myself in these classes. i don't have all of the answers, and tbh i'm not even confident on most of my answers. i've tried to make this clear, but they still come to me for help. next semester, i'm retaking ANOTHER course that i failed (not failed, but didn't get a high enough mark to move forward) and i honestly feel like a dick for not helping when i could and should help.
this is probably a nonissue tbh. i'm on the verge of dropping out myself because i took on too much this semester and this just kinda feels like it's all more than i can handle.
What are these acronyms?
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blacktofade · 6 months
Text
Gemtho Fortnight Day 6
Prompt: Gemtho prompt: RPF, Etho actually gives Gem his address (or a PO box maybe) so she can send him a Christmas gift, they start sending goofy penpal letters and trinkets back and forth, but it soon becomes extremely horny letters and perhaps physical nudes.
cw: rpf
“I went to the post office yesterday,” Etho says instead of hello when Gem answers the Discord call.
His voice is rough and strangely echoed, like he’s halfway to taking a sip of the first coffee of his day.
It’s early for him. Gem doesn’t usually see any sign of him until later in the afternoon, and her stomach jolts with anticipation.
“Get anything good?” she asks, feigning innocence, and Etho grunts.
“You’re the only one with my address.”
It’s not Etho’s address, it’s a PO box in Edmonton he’s kept open for months now.
It had started as a joke with Gem threatening to find him to send him a mic stand, but she’d only brought it up once, and yet a week later, Etho had dropped the address into her DMs. Nothing else, just the address, and Gem had taken it and ran.
She’d sent the mic stand, not that she expected him to use it, but she’d also included a Funko Pop of Kakashi, just because she wasn’t about to miss the opportunity.
Eventually, he’d DMed her a photo of the same desk setup that she’d seen before, but the tissue box was gone, replaced with the stand, and near his monitor was the ridiculous Funko figure.
It had made her feel strangely powerful.
She’d started sending him things regularly, not expecting him to continue paying for the space month after month, but nothing had ever been returned to her. It all made it to him.
She’d sent him Easter candy she’d found in the back of a pharmacy, almost a year out of date. She’d sent him an old Sega game with no label from a flea market. She’d sent him a little piece of her soul in the form of a postcard from Boston, wish you were here scribbled on the back.
Later in the year when she’d got home from Twitch Con, she’d sent him a signed photo of Bdubs. She’d got it from John as a joke after too many drinks in the California sun, when they’d both laughed to the point of tears at the thought of Etho opening it.
And a week later Etho had sent her a photo of it framed and sitting on the shelf behind his desk.
It was around that time she’d realized he was doing it for her — the whole PO box setup, his strangely candid responses. He was letting her sneak her way into his life.
Which leads to now and the reason why her palms are sweating.
“Have you opened it yet?” she asks and she hears a creak, like he’s leaning back in his chair.
“I opened it last night.”
Gem swallows, tugging anxiously at the hem of her sweater. “Am I wildly off-base?”
“Depends what reaction you were expecting from me.”
Gem takes a breath. “What reaction did I get?”
“I'm only human,” Etho tells her and Gem shuts her eyes and thinks she understands.
The envelope she'd mailed him had contained Polaroids. The kind of Polaroids she's never sent anyone else, the kind she's never wanted to take before.
She can imagine him at his desk, tipping out the contents and sitting in stunned silence. She can imagine him holding one of the photos — maybe the one of her topless, one hand resting on her ribs, face turned away from the camera but hair unmistakable — touching himself and knowing they'd be having this conversation later.
“That's the reaction I was hoping for,” Gem admits quietly.
“I'm going to keep the PO box open a little while longer,” Etho tells her, and it feels like an aside until he adds, “if you would like to send more.”
He says it like he's doing her a favor, but Gem feels breathless.
“Yeah,” she says, too quick to be anything but eager. “I can do that.”
“I'm also going to need your address.”
Gem's mouth is suddenly dry.
She can do that, too.
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