#not a puny week in advance

[copper-skulls]

(ben nevis photo source)

Pst, i'm making custom NaNoWriMo calendars over on the nano forums again. channelling my restless creative energy after a long day into fiddling with colors and blurs in inkscape (which, by the way, the group display in 1.2 is SO GOOD. literally a godsend. i need to do more vector work again)

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko Ch 164 Thoughts

I don't know what the return policy is on manga chapters but I'd like to return this chapter and ask for a new ending

I have reasons beyond "I hate this because it depresses me" but honestly I fucking hate it because it depresses me

Aqua died smiling. Great. He also died horribly in graphic detail. It's impactful, sure, but it also felt gratuitous. Maybe I'm just sensitive but it was awful to read

This arc is called "Toward the Stars and Dreams." I guess Akasaka was being clever and he meant nightmares

Akasaka said in a conversation with Mengo that he wanted to portray despair:

A: I guess the emotions I want to show are the pain of living and despair. M: Aka-sensei, are you in despair? A: I live with hope! M: But... What you want to depict in the manga is despair? A: Hope and hopelessness are two sides of the same coin, and that's what I want to show. M: So, what you're trying to depict is a form of hope? A: To make a star shine you have to put them in a dark place.

But I never viewed OnK as a story primarily about despair. If hope and hopelessness are flip sides to a coin, Ai's death portrayed that a lot better

Aqua's is a poor imitation. Deciding your life's worth is to die needlessly for your loved one is not the same as experiencing deep regret mixed with the relief of learning in your final moments that you loved like you always longed to

Aside from Ai and Hikaru, the characters generally got happy endings even if they had to go through hell first

I thought the story was moving towards a slightly bittersweet ending where Aqua finally took a step towards healing and living for himself. I didn't think Ai would have said, "I love you" to her kids if this whole thing was gonna end horribly

Boy do I feel like a clown

Maybe it would be more palatable if Aqua had died for revenge. I'd still have issues with it in terms of expectations, but at least the murder-suicide of a victimized individual wouldn't be framed as self-sacrifice

Can we all just agree that Aqua was NOT born to protect Ruby?

And if we had to go this route, couldn't the loose plot threads have at least been resolved first?

It really sucks that Ai's wishes for her kids to be happy and for Hikaru came to naught. It all seems so pointless now

I guess if there's one thing I can say that isn't bitterly complaining, it's that this chapter made me depressed for nearly a week since the leaks came out. If OnK wasn't something special to me I wouldn't care so much, you know?

Aside from the Aqua panels, I don't know which are the most psychologically damaging. I think it's a tie between Akane collapsed on the shore dressed to the nines, Ruby smiling while signing something for a little girl in a bow, and Miyako's face

The below panels hurt like hell now:

Although there's no way we'll have time to properly touch on the guilt Miyako is likely to feel so just throw it in the bin with every other offscreen moment from the last couple arcs

Everyone gets to be miserable but only for 2 chapters so they better be quick about it

Next chapter: Ruby won't kill herself unless Akasaka has committed to the worst possible ending in which case I'll have to declare him a genius with a vision that was simply too advanced for my puny mind to comprehend.

Instead, we'll time skip to Ruby taking her son, Aqua Ai Hoshino-Narushima, to the Hoshino family grave to pay respect to his namesakes. Then Hikaru, who managed to secure a nearby plot, will rise from the dead, do a fancy coat flip, and moonwalk away.

Man, I really am depressed about this ending though.

[gladiators-spark]

@blitzbee-week for blitzbee week, here’s a story

day one prompt: forbidden

(the title is a lyric from ‘Blue Monday’ by New Order)

“To Say What I Need To Say”

——————————————————————

the gearshift advances forward as rubber tires screech faster on asphalt.

[no one’s on the road but you]

the rear view mirror showed no one behind the car and he saw no one ahead of him for miles. he could go as fast as he wanted.

[get there before he does]

the side view mirror adjusted itself, revealing the black and violet jet racing through the sky. right behind the canary yellow car. both of them keeping the same goal in mind: get to the allspark shard first.

the car raced forward, kicking up a storm of dust behind him. he focused his attention on the energy signature of the allspark shard, ignoring the squealing of his tires against the road and the revving of his engine. the jet followed suit, his own thrusters blazing as he chased the signature. the car revved his engine subconsciously as he redirected his attention to the jet behind him.

[think of it as a race; you’ll get there before he does]

he internally smirked at the thought, his grin faltered at the followed up thought of boss-bot and his numerous lectures about road safety. could he risk the scolding if boss-bot found out? he checked his mirrors again, no one else in sight. nobody other than the jet that followed.

[if he finds out]

his smirk returned, he’d make sure none of them wouldn’t. his engine rumbled as the speedometer on his dashboard ticked by more numbers. he wouldn’t lose this race. not to him.

[not like I did with blurr]

as if the decepticon behind him read his mind, the jet’s engines blared through the quiet serenity of the sky. racing through the clouds until he was behind the car from above. the car had to admit that he had always admired the speed blitzwing held in the air. but it couldn’t match the speed he had on the road.

[not by a long shot]

…

as he raced through the clouds, he kept his attention solely on the blazing yellow autobot car below. which wasn’t difficult as he was the only car on the road.

[where was the rest of the bug’s team?]

it was only them two out there, both their teams no where to be seen. but only he knew why his comrades weren’t accompanying him. his engine rumbled at the thought, he had been sent out to retrieve the allspark shard by the blundering buffoon lugnut. he wasn’t sure as of when the rest would come, as they all knew the autobots wouldn’t give up the allspark shard so easily and he cannot stop them all himself. his thrusters blazed further accelerating the jet, he hated that thought. how could a small team of puny autobots handle him on their own?

[it’s all slag, they just got lucky]

as he observed the car below, he thought of the few times he had encountered the yellow bug. he was far more chatty than his teammates, not to mention reckless. how could such a small bot even think of taking a bot almost three times their size? this autobot scout apparently, always taunting and insulting him. trying to get a rise out of the decepticon.

[like that one time—]

his engine thundered, he seethed at the memory. the scout was at his usual tactics— taunting and evading. he had repeatedly dodged his ice missiles while spewing out insults, leaving only large towers of ice where the bug once stood. eventually one comment the autobot had made about his faces finally got a reaction out of him. the decepticon had begun to yell while subconsciously transforming into his tank alt mode, which had caused him to fall out of the sky and crash into the lake below.

it was embarrassing to think of how that wasn’t even the first time it had happened. the bug had a penchant for riling him up and gaining a harsh reaction from him. it would have been an admirable trait if he wasn’t at the receiving end of it. the decepticon had to admit that the speed the scout moved at was impressive, not nearly enough compared to the blue one but still commendable. what he lacked in physical strength and size he made up for with his speed is what he could tell of him.

[especially for intelligence]

he chuckled, which dwindled. he paused, he observed the car below. he couldn’t tell if the autobot scout had recognized his presence or not. he was not attacking or anything, simply racing down the road. he wondered if it was some sort of tactic, as if to lead him into a false sense of security. or maybe the bug was that oblivious.

[what is he doing?]

he descended, still in the air but more noticeable to those below. the car didn’t budge, only increasing in speed. the jet followed, he wouldn’t descend further nor increase his speed. he would observe the autobot as the both of them headed towards the location of the allspark shard. he only boosted in speed when he remembered something he had overheard and seen about the scout.

[does he think of this as a race?]

he had overheard shockwave mention that the bug—bumblebee was it? doesn’t matter; from what the undercover agent had said the bug was not only known for being a public nuisance but one that enjoyed racing. similar to the quick blue autobot, only on earth. this revelation amused him, he had never encountered an autobot who thought nothing of a mission but as a game. let alone one that had the mission of obtaining an allspark shard as a goal. if that was what the bug thought of this then he was determined to win.

…

readjusting the side view mirror, bumblebee saw blitzwing speed up along with him. he wondered if the jet knew what he was doing, he was somewhat sure as the con hadn’t attacked nor done anything insidious. he snickered to himself, what would the rest of his team think? that he—the bumbling idiot of the team—was racing against a con? and not just any decepticon, the one that proved to be even more a nuisance than he was! he wondered if it weren’t for their different factions, would they have been friends? he paused, would they? his wheels squealed as he accelerated forwards.

[no way— don’t even think about that!]

bumblebee refocused his attention on the road, then back to blitzwing, then back to the road. would th—it’s a treacherous thought. he shuddered, the last thing he needs is for his team and the entirety of his faction to think he was a traitor.

[or a spy..]

guilt overcame him, he thought of wasp. of longarm—shockwave. how he ruined wasp’s life, how shockwave led him on, made him believe that wasp was a spy. the last thing he needs is to be convicted of being one too. but this time, it would be true. almost. for wanting to be friends with a decepticon even if hypothetically.

[couldn’t be worse than..]

bumblebee swerved on the road, he shouldn’t have thought about being friends with a con—but being in an actual relationship with one? what has gotten into him? even if it’s just a thought, what would they think? that he thinks like this, having such treasonable thoughts. even if it’s something so small, so insignificant as a mere idea. he could be sent to the stockades, and primus forbid that big chinned jerk, Sentinel, will use anything deemed treasonous against him. even if it’s a thought.

[they won’t know..]

they won’t, because he won’t say anything. like how they won’t know he’s currently racing this decepticon. and how they aren’t attacking each other, no one would know. not boss-bot, not bulk, not prowl, not ratchet, and certainly not sentinel. he calmed himself, it’s not a big of a deal as he makes it out to be. it’ll be—

he’s interrupted by the sudden blaring of blitzwing’s engines and thrusters, over all of it he thinks he could make out the slightest sound of muffled laughter.

[must be random..]

bumblebee muses, he came up with names for each face he knew the con had. the pitch black face with equally dark and sharp denta, he named random for how unpredictable he becomes when he switches to that one. he disliked that one but not as much as the blue one with the monocle, that one was always collected and cold. figuratively and literally, he learned that when blitzwing’s faces switched his powers would as well. so logically, he came up with icy for not only his cold demeanor but his equally bitter abilities. the same could be said with hothead and his scorching power.

the jet then lowers himself, bumblebee grows slightly concerned. what was the con doing? he sped up, just in case the lunatic tries anything. now, the both of them were nearing the location of the shard.

[just a few miles more..]

and he will get the shard, kick some decepticon aft, and forget… the unwanted thoughts that came with this encounter. even if he thinks that blitzwing isn’t all [that] bad, with the smooth and measured voice that comes with icy. or the strong facial structure of hothead, and his endearing tooth gap. and random… what can be said about that one? the expressions that random makes and how quickly but easily his tone changes. as if it was a rhythm or pattern, but he was like the weather; can change at any given moment. and how amusing bumblebee found that to be. adored each one, even if only a little. each having their own qualities and abilities and appearance… almost as if they were their own person but trapped in one body.. he snapped out of it as the jet’s engines blared louder.

and then it’s all kicked to the curb as the thought that followed up was how his faction would think of him if they knew. and what they would do if they did. it isn’t worth it. is it?

[no it’s not, just keep going]

…

[what is up with the bug now?]

blitzwing was a caught off guard by the sudden erratic and capricious movement of the car below. what had caused him to stop so abruptly or almost drive himself off the road? the jet could have sworn he heard faint mumbling coming from the scout, but he was uncertain as the roaring of both his engines and that of the autobot’s made it difficult to hear anything but his thoughts.

[it isn’t because of me is it?]

his mood quickly shifted from curious to indignant, what had he done to cause such reactions from the bug? all he did was blare his engines louder and lowered himself closer to the scout… that couldn’t be it, surely. he rolled his optics internally, it would be silly to act such a way towards something so frivolous.

[then again, the bug is known for acting in strange ways..]

the con snickered, it was true. he had seen the amusing and adorable ways the scout reacted to things. the way his face would contort to express how he felt, how his vibrant optics would widen or narrow, or how his voice would go as loud as an alarm or go as low as a snarl. of course the only things that provoked those reactions were things the bug didn’t like. such as when his teammates annoyed him or scolded him, when things didn’t go his way, or when larger bots held him like a human doll toy..

he hummed, the scout was quite small in terms of size. even compared to his own comrades, he was the shortest. even in comparison with the cyber-ninja! how is something blitzwing would like to know; how could a bot take such a thin and puny form like a motorcycle be bigger than one with the form of a subcompact car?

[must be their frames..]

he paused, he thought back to the times he had saw the two autobots. the cyber-ninja was always stoic and silent, as most fighters with his skill set were. however in terms of appearance; the autobot ninja was slim and lithe, his frame black with dim gold highlights. then there was the more vocal, expressive, and loud bumbling scout. his frame was petite and….curvy— he shouldn’t phrase it that way, the scout was small and shapely. the bug’s frame a canary yellow with a black racing stripe going along his chassis and right leg.

and when stood besides each other, it still didn’t make sense to him.

[must be an autobot thing..]

blitzwing concluded it to that, as most autobots he had encountered were roughly around the height of his waist or chassis. sometimes lower or higher, it mostly depended on their build. he decided not to dwell on it, but he couldn’t move on from the thought of the scout. he was so puny, like one of those human toys the young ones carried and played with.

[could I..?]

he laughed as his engines roared, the thought amused him immensely. could he carry the bug like one of those organic youngling toys? toy around with his alt mode like a miniature toy car! he cackled louder, his laughter drowned out by the thundering noise of his own engines. he loved the thought of it; holding the bug close, making the scout dance as he dangled him by his wrists, or having the autobot race around as the con cheered him on. he then glanced down at the bug, observing him before taking notice of the small and dulled alarm on top of the car.

blitzwing paused, that alarm. it would be a vibrant red when it was activated, a similar color to that of the scout’s insignia on his chassis.

[oh right..]

bumblebee is an autobot. one on the team of repair bots that had repeatedly deferred his liege’s plans. he shuddered at the thought of his lord, he was suddenly reminded of why he was even on that faction. the reason being out of fear, even if he was one of the strongest soldiers under megatron’s rule. none of that mattered if he were to go against megatron. not only would he have to face the warlord, but also his most loyal sycophants. blitzwing grumbled, he hated both lugnut and shockwave. lugnut for being a complete and utter dolt and yes-man. shockwave for being the same only tolerable and being efficient at his work. not to mention what they’ll do if he is proven to be disloyal, lugnut may be a bucket of bolts but his strength and temper is nothing to be underestimated. he knew better from his experience with the nutcase, especially since they arrived on earth. and primus knows what shockwave will do, probably anything megatron requests.

[sie sind beide dummköpfe..]

he ascended higher, keeping his attention on the subcompact car below and the allspark shard ahead. he shouldn’t get involved with the scout… in any other way than fighting. lest he has to face his liege’s wrath and fury for his disobedience and treachery. and that of his comrades, and risk putting his spark on the line for something so minor but treasonous. even if the thought of having someone who probably won’t kill him was so tempting.

…

it was the best for both of them to forget those abstractions and hope their factions will never find out about it. and ignore the slight throb in their spark and the thoughts in their helms that had no right to exist.

[houseofhatano]

It's Wednesday! Which means it's time for even more dragons. I've already mentioned Earthborn Dragons last week, so I'll be discussing them a little more generically this time.

With the ever present lesser dragons and the many kinds of greater ones, one may think that society would be overwhelmingly based around draconids. This is not fully the case however. Greater dragons are a relatively rare kind due to their scarce breeding habits, and in many occasions societies aren't even aware of their presence.

Earthborn dragons tend to not present themselves to the public in their draconic forms, only really showing themselves once they have reached ancient status or developed illusions of grandeur. Why this habit started is largely uncertain, though those who do take humanoid shape would claim it's mostly out of ease; Collecting items for their hoards is a lot easier when one doesn't necessarily look like a dragon but instead a well versed trader, per example. Considering the valuability of their hides and other organs it is also simply the safer option.

Some greater dragons have taken this manner of camouflage even further; Silver dragons live their entire life as a chain of human ones, resetting their memories in between lives to get a genuinely different experience each human lifetime. Their polymorph is incredibly advanced, allowing them to age and grow as a normal human would. Because of this the families they have during these lives would be oblivious to their true nature unless the dragon itself chooses to share it.

Naturally not all greater dragons prescribe to the idea that hiding in plain sight is the better option. There have been occasions in history where dragons have forcefully taken leadership over large areas of land, sometimes terrorizing those they consider puny and short lived. Likewise, there have been those who align themselves with factions that may match their interests, presenting themselves to the public as a sign of power. These situations are exceedingly rare, however, and even those who openly present themselves at one point may chose to go into hiding at another.

[the-real-satan-the-devil-of-hell]

I want you to remember this you souless heathen. Knowledge is endless, right.

Do we know if we run on or require electricity for our human body to run (as in electricity itself to charge us)?. As far as we know, no. Is there a cure for cancer, as of right now? No.

Now. There is a reason for this part here below.

You were born,out of your mother womb into this... Shitty gods' or big bang creation of earth. You weren't created like we create ai in the sense of knowing every little detail (the ins and outs), starting from scratch etc. we don't know how much storage a human has or equals too.

You little puny human, grew up. You evolved, you learned things. Like draw, science, maths etc. What is required for you to function? How much food do you need? How long can you survive?

Puny humans are efficient(keyword here). You were born very efficient.

Take your eyes. Let's say it takes a picture of what you see. What file format?. Let say raw. It captures every detail that is visible ax1at that position. File size is less than a byte. That kind of efficient.

A smartphone or camera can take a raw image (dng, nef etc). It's owns way of capturing (different lens, bayer pattern etc). That raw image, at the moment, contain large amounts of potentially redundant data. Size between 10 mb to 30+ mb for a single raw image. It's not as efficient as the way humans process it.

Now. I want stupid ai to generate a realistic image of 1971 Dodge Challenger.

First I going to create the ai. I have train the ai on data in order to create the prompt. It require data such as millions of images of 1971 Dodge Challenger. Remember how the image was take, what it contains and size of those images. And, if I want to generate random (like from different angles), take from different sides/angles.

The details of the images is not as full as the eyes see an actual 1971 Dodge Challenger.

The amount of data(size) is huge. The file formats are not efficient to where like 1kb contain the entire information of a 1971 Dodge Challenger car as like real scale model. More than millions of petrabytes of data stored on like a server. All just for ai to output with just a mediocre image of just 1971 Dodge Challenger. That's it.

Face swap. Put perfect scrumptious Chris Pratt face over mother's dog disgusting Eloné Muskay's face. The current hardware such rtx 4090 and i9 14th gen. About 1-2 weeks of training to then use that data to start outputting a 5 second video. And it's mediocre and not good enough for me to want to use the ai.

I'll do it myself as I have the necessary tools, eyes, brain etc. to do it and I am efficient at it as well as efficient at using my body's resources. I can cut out frame by frame, I can use little amounts of images etc. all by hand. It may take a while but the results are much better.

Heck, if there is a new unidentified object/thing and not much in our current huge ever growing collection knowledge of information can help us identify it, how the fuck is ai going to identify it. What?, then name the fat bug-like monster with juicy ass, "glorksi cockupiss" or this rock-mermaid-like "titty titty clang clang". Let me real here.

it's to much data, size, storage, hardware, hardware upgrade etc. and I mean way to much. It's not even possible for the hardware requirements yet, to output any prompt, for even one person, that would be worth using/pleasing/realistic.

Now imagine a million prompts per hour. The amount of storage. It's beyond yottabytes of training data. Constantly upgrading storage for more space every second. You would have to build a robot that would run so fast. Faster than flash. Faster than saving Barry's mom before Barry (aka flash).

Huge hardware servers. Extreme amount of cost every second that they would have to shut the ai down and bankrupting the company.

You humans are efficient. You guys take your time. There is a reason things are still around like Tumblr. There is enough time for advancement in storage and hardware etc. , for the companies to upgrade and keep up with us (our posting, our work etc.)

Ai is useless ass shit that is so inefficient.

AI hasn't improved in 18 months. It's likely that this is it. There is currently no evidence the capabilities of ChatGPT will ever improve. It's time for AI companies to put up or shut up.

I'm just re-iterating this excellent post from Ed Zitron, but it's not left my head since I read it and I want to share it. I'm also taking some talking points from Ed's other posts. So basically:

We keep hearing AI is going to get better and better, but these promises seem to be coming from a mix of companies engaging in wild speculation and lying.

Chatgpt, the industry leading large language model, has not materially improved in 18 months. For something that claims to be getting exponentially better, it sure is the same shit.

Hallucinations appear to be an inherent aspect of the technology. Since it's based on statistics and ai doesn't know anything, it can never know what is true. How could I possibly trust it to get any real work done if I can't rely on it's output? If I have to fact check everything it says I might as well do the work myself.

For "real" ai that does know what is true to exist, it would require us to discover new concepts in psychology, math, and computing, which open ai is not working on, and seemingly no other ai companies are either.

Open ai has already seemingly slurped up all the data from the open web already. Chatgpt 5 would take 5x more training data than chatgpt 4 to train. Where is this data coming from, exactly?

Since improvement appears to have ground to a halt, what if this is it? What if Chatgpt 4 is as good as LLMs can ever be? What use is it?

As Jim Covello, a leading semiconductor analyst at Goldman Sachs said (on page 10, and that's big finance so you know they only care about money): if tech companies are spending a trillion dollars to build up the infrastructure to support ai, what trillion dollar problem is it meant to solve? AI companies have a unique talent for burning venture capital and it's unclear if Open AI will be able to survive more than a few years unless everyone suddenly adopts it all at once. (Hey, didn't crypto and the metaverse also require spontaneous mass adoption to make sense?)

There is no problem that current ai is a solution to. Consumer tech is basically solved, normal people don't need more tech than a laptop and a smartphone. Big tech have run out of innovations, and they are desperately looking for the next thing to sell. It happened with the metaverse and it's happening again.

In summary:

Ai hasn't materially improved since the launch of Chatgpt4, which wasn't that big of an upgrade to 3.

There is currently no technological roadmap for ai to become better than it is. (As Jim Covello said on the Goldman Sachs report, the evolution of smartphones was openly planned years ahead of time.) The current problems are inherent to the current technology and nobody has indicated there is any way to solve them in the pipeline. We have likely reached the limits of what LLMs can do, and they still can't do much.

Don't believe AI companies when they say things are going to improve from where they are now before they provide evidence. It's time for the AI shills to put up, or shut up.

[vgperfection]

Dreamcast Advanced Controller Board

Not used your Dreamcast in a few weeks? Has the battery gone flat AGAIN, forcing you to set the date and time? The Advanced Controller Board for the Dreamcast is the perfect solution to that ever-present problem on the classic Sega console. By replacing the puny ML2032 with a Li-ion 18650 battery (NOT supplied) you can leave your Dreamcast for up to six months before being bugged by the…

[ruminativerabbi]

Thanksgiving 2022

In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, I often encourage people to spend time cultivating in advance a sense of gratitude for all we have. But it suddenly strikes me that I’ve rarely suggested how precisely to go about doing that. Thankfulness is, after all, an emotion that comes naturally to almost no one: we human beings seem more or less hardwired to feel that the good in our lives is constituted of boons that were coming to us all along and that we are therefore more than justified in being fully outraged when things don’t work out precisely as we had hoped they would. There was a time when I thought that the kind of worldview grew out of an unhealthy level of self-absorption. But as I’ve grown older I’ve come to see that kind of thinking as natural to the human condition. We are by nature greedy, selfish things, we human beings. As a result, I’ve come to admire all the more intently those among us who can summon up from deep within a sense of true gratefulness for the good that has somehow devolved upon them without them having earned it in advance with good deeds and noble behavior. Like everybody else in the world, I like to think of myself as a good person. But did I really earn personally the bounty of the world that I plan to enjoy at my Thanksgiving table? Really? And how exactly did I do that?

And that set of dour questions leads me to the question I’d like to write about this week: how can people go about cultivating the sense of gratitude that rests at the heart of everybody’s favorite holiday…or that should rest there? I imagine there could be many different ways to answer that question, but the one that strikes me as the most doable has to do with a different quality entirely, also one mostly in short supply in the world: humility.

If there’s anything we human beings are less naturally than grateful, it would have to be humble. (Can you imagine a politician standing up to say, “I haven’t really earned your trust or your confidence…but vote for me anyway and I’ll do my best”?) And yet humility—the all-too-rare quality of declining ever to overestimate your own virtue—actually can be cultivated. And, once cultivated, it can lead directly to the sense of gratitude that can transform Thanksgiving from a huge party “about” turkey and football into something “about” true moral growth and development.

For better or worse, the path towards humility leads through certain highly unpalatable truths.

We are tiny creatures living on a tiny rock. Yes, the world feels like a vast place most of the time to me too. I heard an interview the other day with a fellow who had managed to visit every single country in the world and then wrote a book about it. He was being celebrated precisely because that really is an impressive achievement to have managed, but the sun is a million times larger than the earth. And the Milky War is about 1.5 trillion times the size of the sun. On the other hand, the largest known galaxy (rather prosaically called IC 1101) is forty times larger than the Milky War and contains roughly 100 trillion stars to the Milky Way’s paltry 400 billion. So, yes, it’s impressive to have visited all 195 countries in the world. Imagine having been to Norway and Nauru and Kyrgyzstan! But the greater truth is that we human beings are minuscule things living on a tiny rock in a sea of uncharted nothingness so vast that even trained mathematicians can hardly fathom its size other than theoretically. Are you feeling humble yet?

And yet, tiny and ultimately inconsequential though we may be, we have nonetheless created a world that vaunts creativity and originality, that awards prizes to great authors and artists, and that has created complex systems to foster spiritual growth. In the worst science fiction movies (the only kind I actually like), the aliens are always bullies who have no respect for our puny earthling brains or accomplishments. But the fact that we, in our infinitesimally teensy patch of the universe, have created enduring works of art and literature, and of science. So the idea is to take pride in what we have accomplished on this planet without losing track of the fact that the Solar System alone, our space-neighborhood, is itself a cool 36 billion times larger than Earth. And our Solar System is about one one-hundred-and-sixty millionth the size of our galaxy.

We’re also newcomers. The span of recorded history—starting with the oldest Sumerian texts—is about five thousand years. But those five millennia constitute somewhere between a fortieth and a single sixtieth of the time Homo sapiens have actually been wandering around the planet. But Homo sapiens—ourselves—are only part of the story: the first human beings are thought to have appeared somewhere between two and six million years ago. But that figure too pales in comparison with the age of the planet itself, estimated by most scientists to be a cool 4.5 billion years old. So recorded human history would be one single nine-hundred-thousandth of the history of the planet. (That means that if you divided the history of the planet into nine hundred thousand parts, human recorded history would occupy one single one of them. Are you feeling it yet?)

I’m often asked how I, a rabbi who has devoted his entire professional life, to the exegesis of Scripture and the propagation of a Bible-based religion, can take these kinds of statistics seriously. Don’t I believe that the world is precisely 5783 years old? Doesn’t the Bible teach that the first humanoids were a fully human Adam and Eve? Isn’t that what the Bible says? First of all, that isn’t exactly what the Bible teaches. But that’s not the real point, which is that Scripture is the foundation stone upon which our spiritual lives rest but not the completed edifice in which we dwell. The challenge, therefore, is to build that edifice on truths we can embrace, not to allow our beliefs to usher us into a kind of loony-tunes world in which we feel noble and good about insisting that every sober scientist in the world is wrong and only we are right. Instead, the challenge is much, much greater. And that challenge is to learn from all about the nature of things, and then to build upon the foundations of our ancient faith a temple in which people possessed of true spiritual integrity can worship without embracing falsehood or fantasy. So I have no trouble embracing science and its lessons. And that is particularly true when that specific act leads not to the ruination of faith but to the perfection of the spirit.

The numbers mentioned above humble me. We feel so important, all of us. And, because we move so effortlessly from self-importance to self-aggrandizement to self-absorption, finding in science the road forward towards the kind of humility that can lead to true gratitude to God for the gifts we enjoy in our lives can be precisely the first step on the journey to humility and then, finally, to true gratitude to God for our lives and all that we possess.

At our Thanksgiving table, we always start dinner by asking the assembled to say in just a few words what they are truly thankful for this year. Some answer jokingly. Others amusingly pretend not to have understood what I meant by “a few words.” Still others offer up what they think is the expected answer. But now and then someone speaks truly from the heart and expresses the essential idea of the holiday: that to be truly at peace with and in the world, you have to feel both humble and grateful, the former because you acknowledge God as the source of good in the world and the latter because you truly do know how little of God’s munificence you have personally earned through the actual sweat of your actual brow.

I wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving. We’re having mostly family, some friends…a huge turkey, the usual trimmings. And I plan to spend the day thinking about my physical place in our gigantic universe and the brevity of my days set into the vastness of history…and I hope to come out at the other end possessed of the simplest and most complex of all emotions: gratitude born of humility. We’ll see how well I do!

[sleepyspnap]

On Cloud 9 -

steve harrington x eddie munson x reader 12k Words

NSFW- threesome(m/m/f), praise, degradation, bdsm, pillow princess steve, dom eddie, rope bondage, p in v, afab reader. Body and Race neutral

You and Steve Harrington were highschool sweethearts turned exes turned best friends. So when you become stressed from exams you know just the way to calm down. And you know just the guy to get it from.-

Where a trip to Eddie munsons house for weed turns into unpacking sexual tension for all three of you.::

TAGLIST

:: nsfw below the cut: minors dni 

Senior finals are objectively the easiest but most stressful part of anyone's high school career. Your eyes are aching under the fluorescent lights as you work on the same review packet you started three days ago. Two more weeks and you were out of there. 

The sharp ring of the bell made your body tense. 

The hallways were hell as you pushed through the sea of people, snarling your nose at the girls pressed to lockers like you weren’t that very girl three years ago as a puny freshman desperate for any attention you could get.

You scan the parking lot for the flaky paint of none other than Steve Harrington's car. He leaned against the hood, a blond girl with a ponytail twisting around her fingers beside him, a plastic dramatic smile on her face as she talked to him.

You scoff as you wait for cars before you cross. The all-familiar stench of marijuana filled your nose as a car slowly drove past. 

You thought for a moment about the last time you even smoked a joint. How you would absolutely kill to have a smoke and let ‘unit four of Advanced Algorithms’ fall from your mind. 

Steve’s eyes landed on your snarled nose and distasteful expression. He threw his hands up in a “what the hell?” gesture as you grew closer. The girl he was talking to– well she was more talking at him –watched in confusion as you walked up to them. 

“Really Harrington? High School girls?” You asked as you made a pained face at the, likely sophomore, girl who shifted her eyes around before excusing herself and shuffling away from you two.

“I wasn’t trying to talk to her like that man!” he tried to defend. “She came towards me and I blacked out!” He said in an exasperated tone before turning back to you. 

You saw that look on his face. Absolutely not. That was his look of ‘I’m about to be the biggest dick ever’.

His eyes squinted and you couldn't fathom that at one point you would melt under the gaze. 

“Were you jealous or something?” 

There it was. The classic Steve Harrington dick move.

You scoffed before turning to stomp to the passenger side of the car and fling open the door with an ear-piercing creak of rusty hinges.

“You so fucking wish dude,” you yelled over your shoulder. 

The car was boiling hot and you groaned in annoyance. You were tired and stressed, and a hot car making drips of sweat melt down the skin of your back wasn’t what you would prefer to be happening.

“What's up your ass today?” Steve jabbed as you slouched back.

“How much cash do you have?” You asked, his eyebrows furrow.

“What? Why?” 

“Will you buy me some pot?” You asked and he broke into a barking laugh.

“Dude, I hang with a bunch of geeky kids all the time. Do you think I know any drug dealers?”

You rolled your eyes remembering the days two years prior you would watch him at parties, a joint between his lips and his hand around your waist. 

Sat perched like his little trophy.

“Whatever. If I find a guy will you pay?” You asked, and he rubbed a hand over his forehead avoiding eye contact as you flashed him a desperate droopy-eyed look. 

He knew how to say no to you, but you couldn’t see him doing it now.

He also knew that everything seemed to suck extra bad recently, and how you used to unwind with a pipe against your lips in the backyard of his family's house.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. As long as we can share.” He stared pointedly at you. 

“Deal.” You nodded, flashing a thankful smile. 

He cranked the car, letting the engine loudly turn over while you tried to devise a plan when you saw him.

A long mess of curls, a cigarette between his lips.

You recalled hearing a girl talk about buying adderall from him at a party. Surely, if he was selling pills, he was bound to have some weed. 

A grin split across your face as you unclicked your seatbelt.

“Give me a second!” You shouted as you clumsily hauled yourself out of the car with Steve shouting after you.

Your anxiety swelled as you approached where Eddie and a few of his friends stood around the rusted bed of a truck. 

One of the guys with him took note of your steady walk towards them, tapping Eddie's arm and pointing.

You rolled the jewel of your necklace around in your hands as you shyly stood in front of him.

“Hi.” You breathed out, a tremendously awkward way to greet a guy you've never met.

“What?” He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

All of his friends stood behind him eyeing you as you flittered your gaze between them and the tall frame of Eddie.

“I uh, I was wondering if you sell?” You said, trying not to seem like some paranoid freshman by lowering your voice.

“Yeah, what do you need?” 

“Pot. An ounce or two maybe?” You reply wondering if his eyes are focused on the necklace rolling between your fingers or the cleavage underneath it.

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, take my address real fast, stop by at 7, and you can look around?” 

“How much do you sell for?” You asked.

“How much you got?” he shrugged, smiling a little. You wondered if that was something he always does or if you're being an egocentric asshole for thinking he is.

“My friend is payin’ actually. Is it cool if he comes with tonight?” You gesture over to Steve, who was taking notice of you facing him. 

“Steve?” Eddie laughed a little. “He’s your friend?”

“Uh, yeah, we’re close or whatever,” You said, hoping to sound cooler than you were.

“Yeah, yeah, it's fine if he comes with, man. He knows two of my boys.” 

You nod and chew on your lip. The sun was becoming too hot on your skin and the imposing presence of the guy made you hot under the collar already.

“Here’s my address. 7,” Eddie said around his cigarette. He handed you a slip of paper between ringed fingers.

-

Steve wasn't happy to find out the club Mike and Dustin raved about was run by a drug dealer who failed senior year…twice. To which you snapped “I failed senior year too, asshole” And he shrugged in that annoying way he does when he knows he’s pressing a button.

“Whatever, dickwad, get home safe.” You reply as you both pull into your driveway. 

“Do you wanna hang out actually?” He asked before you could slam the door. 

“I mean, yeah,” You roll your eyes, pretending you weren’t a little bit glad he wanted you around after basically stealing his cash for drugs. “Come on.” You roll your eyes. You pretended that

-

You both lounged comfortably, giggling like middle schoolers with excitement. 

“I’ve been on the same review packet for three fucking days. I need a fucking joint and a vibrator right now.” You huffed as Steve finished telling you about the kids who decided to try to steal a porno movie. 

He scrunched his nose. “Dude, you don't need to tell me about your sexual frustration.” He bit. You rolled your eyes, letting your lips purse in annoyance.

“Steve.” You gritted out.

“What!” He said in that same ‘what did I do tone’ he loved so much.

“You have fucked me halfway to heaven before and if I want to talk about busting one good nut sometimes, I should be allowed to.” You finished your statement with a drawn-out grunt of annoyance. 

You never wanted to genuinely be a dickhead to Steve. However, there was something so infuriatingly relaxing about watching him shrink down as you bark out complaints. 

You both sat in silence for a while after that. His head had fallen to press against the side of yours, a comfortable reminder he was there. 

“It’s 6:45 and I don't know where that freak lives so we better get a move on,” Steve said as your eyes fluttered with exhaustion.

“Yeah, let's get goin’.”

-

Steve groaned as you pulled into a trailer park. The tires crackled loud through the quiet dark as they passed over the gravel roads.

“Max lives here. Can’t believe she's neighbors with a fucking drug dealer.” You heard Steve mutter.

It was amusing the way the kids always plagued his mind. They’d been through a lot together and it was refreshing that there was someone there to understand. 

You thought about all the times Steve would explain something to you and you'd sit with tears in your eyes; Imagining the much smaller faces of the kids going through what they did. 

So yeah, it wasn’t too satisfying to pull into the driveway across from the red-haired girl's home. 

With slightly rusted gutters and a dirty yellow paint job, Eddie Munson's home looked… Normal. 

Like every other home on the street. Slightly gritty, the windows visibly dirty and a yellow light shining from inside. 

You glance towards Steve as you anxiously glare at the door. 

“Are you gonna stand here” Steve whisper yelled at you blinked with hesitation up at him before he sighed, raising his fist to knock hard. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve! He’s gonna think we’re the fuckin’ feds!” You snapped.

The door clicked open a moment before Steve could bite back a response. You stared in a state of shock for a moment as Eddie gave you a greeting smile.

“Hey! Glad you could make it. Uh, come in, mind the, uh, everything.” He said gesturing around with a cigarette that laid lit in his fingers.

He made a wide gesture that almost made you bark out laughing. His arms held wide in the direction of a hallway where a wooden door lay slightly cracked, music thumping a heavy beat behind it. 

“So, let me see.” He said as you glanced awkwardly around. Your eyes landed on the familiar patterns of album covers you had in your room. The walls were littered with band posters and what you could only assume were dungeon and dragons monsters by the snarled teeth and almost childlike art style. 

How was he such a fucking nerd and kept a biting, fire-hot aura going?

“Ok so, I have adderall, oxys, annnnnd molly, pill-wise.” You scrunch your nose in denial.

“I can’t imagine how insanely sufferable you’d be on an adderall” Steve jabbed, elbow clicking to your side in a light push.

“Fuck off, dude,” You rolled your eyes. You wanted to blush at him teasing you in front of a drug dealer.

“Ok, I get that. I am actually pretty stocked on pot right now though. What strain we thinking?” Eddie asked before pulling jars from a wobbly dresser. 

“Uh, what's good for stress?” Steve asked before you could reply. God damn, you wish he’d let you talk.

“Indica, dumbass. Now let me pick it and shut it.” You offered a fake smile, taunting him with a grin that leaked with sarcasm.

“Indica, yeah. Let me actually go grab one from the kitchen first.” 

You nodded and he brushed past you, his toned arms brushing against you with a firecracker spark. 

“Isn't that the stupid band you listen to?” Steve asked, gesturing towards a Sex Pistols poster on Eddie’s wall.

“They’re not stupid!” You frowned hard at him.

Eddie returned as Steve replied. “Any band with ‘Sex’ in the name should be sick. They just sound like music that makes people bully you in the hallways.” 

“Woah! You got something against the Pistols, Harrington?” Eddie said boisterously as he slid into the room with two jars in his hands.

“He was popular in high school which means his music taste is trash.” You said lowly, more to yourself than the room. But Eddie chuckled low, snapping his fingers with a hissing sound.

“She got you!” He laughed.

You smiled a little and Steve even had a bit of a grin tugging the corner of his lips.

“You like good music then, huh?” Eddie asked as he twisted the lid of one of the jars before letting you sniff it. It was smooth and strong, nostalgic almost.

“Yeah?” He asked looking over at you with an expecting grin.

You sniffed again almost moaning with just the smell of what made you feel so very eased.

“Perfect.” You replied. Steve cocked his head at you. 

“Good weed smells heavenly, dude. You always had that rich kid shit that smelled like roadkill and was most definitely half bay leaves.” You pat Steve's shoulder, holding in an apologetic way onto the crook of his arm. 

“That's probably true. I know the guy who sold to all the rich douches on the basketball team and there's most definitely more than just some cabinet spices in that shit.” 

Steve snorts a little to your surprise.

“This is $20 an ounce. Before you say anything though, I've never had a better bong rip in my life than with this.” Eddie threw his head back in a reminiscent grin.

“I only have a bowl. Does it still hit as good?” You asked and he shook his head, frizzy curls shaking with the move.

He scoffed.

“Listen, my uncles out all night and you-“ he cleared his throat eyes darting to Steve who stood lost in staring around Eddie's clutter.

“You seem cool enough so why don’t we smoke some here with my bong, and I can grab some drinks too?” 

It was a shock really.

Being told you’re cool was already absurd enough, but being cool enough to be offered to smoke with an admittedly good-looking guy who you just so happened to be very similar to. 

“Uh? I'm cool with that if you are?” Steve said as you stood in stunned silence. 

“Oh- yeah, yeah. That’s fine!” You choked out trying not to let heat overtake your face.

“Sick! You can hang in the living room and I’ll grab some beers. Beers?” Eddie ask.

“Beers fine,” Steve politely said and you remembered in shame how much of a lightweight you are. 

“I’m good, thanks,” You waved dismissively as you followed Steve to the living room.

-

Eddie was so right about how smooth it hit. 

You threw your head back and closed your eyes as you held in the first puff of smoke. Opening them again slowly to watch the smoke cloud in front of you. 

Eddie's eyes watched intensely as you smiled and nodded, handing the glass over to Eddie. 

You felt the first rush of soothing calm lick behind your eyelids, that warm quilt in your chest as it settled.

Your mind wandered.

Eddie looked good. His hands were nice to look at. The rings on his fingers clinked against the bong as he passed it to Steve who nodded in thanks. You watched the smoke pool from Eddie's lips as he leaned back waiting to feel the warm feeling soak through his body.

“Good?” You ask as Steve breathes out. He shrugs and you roll your eyes before taking the lighter, flicking it to the bowl before pulling it out and letting the smoke fill your lungs in a rush.

You held back a cough, laughing a little as Eddie repeated you.

After a few more passes and refills, you were in your element. Thick weight on your chest, little tingles on the tips of your fingers. You couldn’t stop giggling as Eddie explained DND to Steve. 

From your spot with your head in his lap, you watched as Steve's eyes furrowed in confusion. His eyes were glossy, his lips cracked slightly. 

“Why does a 20 always mean critical hit?” Steve asked slowly, making you and Eddie groan loud in sync making the both of you laugh a little.

You giggled through your words as you loudly told Steve that a nat 20 is different from adding your own character's stats.

“That's so complicated and stupid!” Steve complained and you scoffed.

“You’re just an idiot.” 

“You failed your senior year, dip shit!” He deflected, making you twist into a dramatized fake crying face.

“So, how do you two even know each other?” Eddie asked from the opposite side of the room.

Your giggles caught you again as you watched Eddie crack a grin at you.

“We used to date actually.” 

Eddie raised his brows. “Really? How are you so close after a breakup?” Eddie asked, taken aback by the idea that Steve ‘the smooth talker’ had gone for, to simply put it, you.

“She's too irritating for anyone else, so I keep her around.” Steve teased, but in opposing action let his hand gently card through your hair.

“It’s because you get to see my boobs at sleepovers.” You said with an eye roll. 

“That’s so not true! I can see so many boobs anytime I want, dude. You’re not special.” 

“Steve! Didn’t know you turned that route after high school!” Eddie said making you bark out a laugh, clutching at your sides. Steve’s laughing vibrated from under you in a gentle reminder it was all banter at the end of the day. 

“You do it for my tits. Don’t try to lie!” You feign attitude.

“Okay? I’m allowed to though because I’ve seen like, everything else too!” Steve quips back. 

Your cheeks flush a little as he basically just said how he's seen you bare naked in front of a guy you’re just getting to know.

“You’re disgusting. Don’t bring up us banging in front of Eddie!” 

“Dude, I can only assume the best for Steve and guess you banged before anyways,” Eddie said from his spot. Steve laughs loud and sharp, a jeering lilt at Eddie taking his side this time.

“And I was the best damn lay you’ll ever get!” You snapped making both boys chuckle low.

“You’re pretty good, I guess” Steve shrugged glancing down at where you gaped at him.

“Just ‘pretty good’?” Eddie snickers making your cheeks flush. It was hard to swallow the thought of Eddie thinking of how Steve regularly blew your back out two years prior.

“Is that why I had to teach you how to finger?” You muttered to Steve who choked for a second.

Hot arousal was pooling, much to your disliking. Weed happened to make you unbearably horny and to make it worse, Steve knew.

You tried not to rub your legs together. Fighting the urge to let memories of cumming around your best friend's fingers flicker about in your head.

Steve lazily grabs at the forgotten beer before struggling to twist the lid. 

“Ah, shit. Sorry, man. I don’t think we have a bottle opener either.” Eddie slurred a bit from his loose position on the sofa.

“I got one in my car. Let me grab it?”

Steve sat you up slowly nodding at you to check if you were good. You nodded with a thankful smile. 

You heard the door shut as your stoned mind focused on where the door lay open to Eddie's room. A queen-sized bed lay adjacent to the door. Attached to the railing of the headboard shined silver handcuffs, the bars beside it clung with slick rope.

“So, Steve’s pretty cool for a jock. I’m actually super shocked. Like I know Mike and Dustin are close with him, but I always assumed it was some nerd-parental figure shit, ya know?” 

You turned to Eddie who was already looking at you with lidded eyes. 

“Why do you have rope on your bed?” You blurt. 

Confusion clouded the rational thought of, “Maybe don't ask a guy you just met about random objects in his bedroom.”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asked, leaning forward with a wide smile, his elbows rest excitedly on his knees. His bracelets made small clinking noises at the quick shift of his movement.

“Uh, yeah?” You ask hesitantly. 

“You never been tied up? Like none of your exes were into that?” 

Humiliation set in before shock could and you gaped at his bemused smile.

“No! I’ve only fucked Steve and we see where that ended up.” 

“You know what S&M is?” He asked after. You shook your head. 

Steve was taking a while, huh?

You looked in his eyes, all but darkening, making a rising feeling seep into your guts.

“It’s like, uh, submissive and master. Like one person, me, likes to be in charge. And the other person likes giving up control. The ropes are to tie the sub down and watch ‘em squirm.” 

You gaped. A flicker of something slipped through your thoughts- Eddies hand around your throat, kissing your neck as you beg. Dirty things you've only read about in the novels you hid under your bed. 

“Oh, uh. Wow. No, I’ve never been with anyone who was into that.” You sputter and he shrugs. His shoulders are really broad. It was actually ironic that he was into pinning girls down with how looming of a frame he had. All broad shoulders, thick biceps.

You thought about how large his hands were. How they would fit so easily around your wrists as his curls fell around his face from where he watched you writhe. 

Your cheeks were pink, a wave of heat flooding you. Your limbs felt like electricity and it felt as if you were pinned under his bemused gaze.

“You’re thinking about it now?” He asked, it was a blatant answer that loomed over you both. A thick heavy tension made it apparent that yes, you were thinking about it. 

“About what?” You asked flatly, straining to keep your voice from faltering.

“You know. It’s been ages since I’ve had someone interested in these things. If you wanna try something out, I'm open for business.” His smirk was hell-sent. It was as if God's own fallen angel sat across from you, brimstone flames licking at your cheeks.

“Are you proposing to me, Munson?” You asked with a slight grin.

You’re high was less surrounding, leaving lapping surges of history confidence and an ocean full of loose-lipped responses.

You knew from way too much experience what could happen in this state. Your mind clicked back to the times the slip of a thought led you to the twisted sheets of none other than Steve.

“If that’s okay,” He asked, a more serious look on his face. It was the kind of little gesture that made your hot cheeks rise with a grin.

“I dunno. Let’s see what happens.” You hope the vagueness is endearing. That the teasing lilt will have him keyed up just the way it does with Steve.

You feel a little peculiar for a moment. The way everything seems to tie to Steve when thinking about sex. 

It was a newer realization, that maybe you still wanted him, just a little. It wasn't like you couldn’t imagine sex with anyone else. You just missed sex with him.

How he writhed under you, his whimpers. You couldn’t shake the memories as you stared blankly towards Eddies own glossed-over gaze.

The fire in your gut was boiling now and with a split-second moment of adrenaline that splashed like cold water over you, you stood.

Your jaw clenched as you stared at Eddie, building your confidence to move. However, the second you let your eyes catch his again, you saw his dark gaze. You felt the hard face you had a moment ago melt. As he stood, it was like a rabbit under the dripping jaws of a starved wolf.

He stood slowly, not making moves to draw closer but staring down at you with a determined look. Your eyes wavered down at his pink tongue. The way it slipped between his thin pursed lips, leaving a trail of shining saliva across the cracked skin.

Through your hazy mind, you let yourself wonder what that same tongue would feel like against your skin.

Was it smooth and slick, or was there a scratchy feeling like Steves? Rough from years of hot coffee and impatience.

“We just standing around?” Eddie jabbed, his voice was soft, not daring to speak loud enough that the heavy tension cracked.

You drew your brows in, looking down at your feet against the yellowed carpet. 

That’s how you saw his boots take a step. Moving towards you at a weary pace like a  predator stalking in calculated moves around its prey before it made its attack. 

And attack he did.

You could smell the cologne he dabbed himself in, obviously trying and failing to cover the smell of musk and cigarettes. You could hear his breathing with the silence in the room, the low humming of the air conditioner the only noise to bade off a surely deafening silence.

You fought not to jump away in surprise when the rough tips of his fingers touched your jaw.

He ran them in a slow slide from under your ear and down your neck. A shiver ran up your spine as you let your head tilt back to look up at him.

You watched with saccharine sweet feelings whirling up. His big puppy dog eyes were animalistic admiring, his own hand that still ran down the expanse of your neck at a slow pace, up and down.

“Is this something you want?” He asked lowly. 

“Depends on what ‘this’ is” You breathed, nervousness tightening your voice.

He stood there quietly, eyes watching as you all but melted with the gentle slide of his hands. 

“Can I kiss you?”  He spoke after a moment. 

Like an instinct, your head bobbed in an enthusiastic nod.

A small smile was on his lips as you lurched to meet him in the middle.

Immediately, he took control. His hands slid to grab the back of your neck, possessively holding you in place. His kiss was firm but not rough. You let him move how he pleased, following like a dog awaiting its next command.

It was abnormal to submit to someone. You weren’t used to the way you melted like jelly in his palms, how it made you fight down a whimper when he aggressively slid a hand to your waist before jerking your body towards him. Your frames collided with a rough thump, you could feel your back arch into him.

His tongue slid in with confidence. Letting him explore your mouth, ever so slightly brushing your tongue against him. He pulled away, your lips both spit slick with the lingering taste of the smoke from earlier on both your tongues.

You felt the need to whine at his departure. You’d never been desperate like this, never pliant in someone's hands the way you suddenly seemed to be.

He chuckled a bit as you chased his lips.

“Asking again, are we just standing around?” 

This time you knew what he meant by that. You sucked your lip in anticipation as you fought the urge to smile in satisfaction.

You ran your hands up his chest, thick and firm under your fingertips before you lifted to your tiptoes letting your lips move close to his ear.

“I’d love to see those ropes up close.” You whispered to him. His hands gripping roughly on your sides.

He breathed in a deep breath making you smile in satisfaction.

“Up.” was all he said slowly before you felt him grab the back of your thighs. You gasped, letting your legs wrap around him. You only had a moment to stare down in shock before he had his lips on your neck.

Your eyes fluttered under his attention. He stumbled slightly to press you to the wall of the hallway. 

“Are you still okay with this?” He muttered into the skin of your neck.

You whined for the first time as he pulled away. You looked down at his droopy eyes, gazing with a softness not expected.

“You sound so pretty, baby. Can't wait to see what else you can do.” 

You gasped as his teeth attached to your neck. 

“Eddie.” You whined as he sucked on the skin below your ear. You didn't have nearly enough clear thoughts to say, ‘no marks’. You were at the point where you would beg to have the smatter of red marks all over you if it meant you could feel his teeth, his lips, the slide of his tongue.

“You’re whiny huh? So sensitive you just have to cry for it.” Eddie spoke, his breath against the wet skin making you almost writhe.

“Don’t be an asshole.” You scoffed, trying not to show how breathless you were.

He pressed you harder into the wall.

“I liked it better when you were just whining, baby. Don’t give me lip, you won't like where that leads you.” 

You opened your mouth in shock and he slipped a tongue into your mouth. With the way he pinned you to the wall you could feel where his cock had stiffened, now half hard in the tight jeans he wore.

“Sh-shit” You whimpered, grinding down on it experimentally. He pulled off your skin with a noise before looking up at you with a deep look.

“Don’t be a greedy whore.” Was all he said. Your eyes all but rolled back.

“Sorry guys, I got the opener and I guess max saw me so I wanted to make sure she was–” He stopped.

You’d completely forgotten about the idiot. He stood there with his stupid wide eyes, his mouth gaping.

“I’m gonna-“ 

Eddie leaned into your ear. “Why don’t you ask him to join?” 

Your body lit up and you stumbled away from Eddie with weak knees. “If it’s okay with you, why don’t you, uh, stay? It’s not like we haven’t done it before. It’s just now there’s also someone else.

You felt hot with the hope he would agree. You missed sex with him, his soft body under yours, hands digging into your hips while you took control of him.

“Oh, uh. What am I joining exactly?” He asked, ever the stupid pretty boy he was.

Eddie spoke this time.

“A threesome. If that’s something you're into?” 

“A-are you? Into it I mean? I mean I've never had another guy see my wang.” Steve replied his cheeks flushed pink.

You grinned, slowly letting a puppy dog pout fall over your face as you walked into his space.

“Come on. He can tie me up all good and I can ride you. Or suck you off while he fucks me. Or the other way. Or he could fuck you, the options are really-“

“Slow down, race horse,” Eddie said lowly as he slid up behind you. Eddie and Steve were both taller, leaving you sandwiched between the two.

“Uh, yeah. That sounds pretty hot actually.” Steve said breathless, with a nervous chuckle.

“Great, why don’t we get started and set some boundaries then. I wanna know limits before I wreck you, both of you.”

It was a little shocking the way Eddie's eyes darkened towards Steve's nervous stance. He looked the same way earlier right before devouring you in practiced kisses.

“First off. I’m always in control.” Eddie said, leaning next to your ear. You melted back into his chest as he pecked at your neck.

“That's- That's good. Steve’s a bit of a pillow princess. Isn't that right baby?” 

He blushed, looking down and biting his lip.

“Oh come on Steve. No need for that.” Eddie crooned.

“How about we just see where it goes okay? Stoplight system for safety?” You offer, raising your slightly trembling hands to Steve's cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Lead the way”

You grin up at him pressing a kiss under his jaw before excitedly bounding after Eddie.

Ring-covered fingers gripped you again as he pulled you into the room.

“Put on a show for him,” Eddie whispered as Steve entered, the door clicking behind him. 

You met Eddie in an open-mouth kiss, hands coming to curl into his hair. 

Steve made a small choked sound making you smile into Eddie's kiss. 

Eddies lips left yours with a wet click and he was immediate to latch onto the soft stretch of your neck.

You whimpered at the rough bites he left, eyes fluttering open to catch where  Steve's eyes, glossy and red-rimmed, lay locked to the two of you. His hands clenching by his sides.

“S-Steve.” You whined, and he seemed to jump at his name.

“Come” is all you whimpered to him and he was by you. You looked at him from over eddies shoulder, eyes fluttering at him as lips worked deep bruises into your collar. 

Steve blinked down at you and with a quivering lip asked. “Can I kiss you please?” 

You smiled at him, his want evident, his puppy dog eyes satisfying and pleading.

You nodded and before a soft praise for asking permission could leave your mouth, he slammed onto you.

You two were always rough kissers. Desperate and hungry and in love. The few times you two had hooked up right after the break-up, you remember wondering how you were ever going to go back to the gentle pecks of other guys.

You felt hands grip rough onto the swell of your ass and you disconnected from Steve's mouth. 

“Don’t get him too wound up already, baby. He’s gotta last two rounds.”

You keened at Eddie's words. He had devised his own little plan and you knew he was, to put it lightly, imaginative.

“I’m going easy on you, both of you, but it doesn’t mean I'm not going to be nice.” 

You felt your cunt throb. You were already wet. 

Eddie turned to look at Steve. A smirk creaking onto his lips. 

“Anything you need to say, Harrington?” Eddie asked, stepping in close to Steve.

“No, nothing,” Steve said.

“Do you want to be good for me tonight?” 

It was whiplash, the earlier banter was now replaced by a dance of submission and domination.

Steve whined, nodding enthusiastically. By now Steve was usually clinging to you and whimpering in anticipation as you described what you were going to do. 

You could see him twitching to make contact, to feel Eddie's skin against where he was heating up all over.

Eddie raised those ringer-clad fingers, pushing them to the hair tamed nicely at the nape of Steve's neck.

In a snap, his fingers were gripping the locks. Steve whined, high and wet in his throat. You loved him like this more than he knew. And from the way, Eddie stared up a tongue running against his bottom lip, he did too.

From the grip of the hair behind his head, Eddie pulled him close so they shared a breath. Steve's hands coming to clutch at Eddie's shirt.

“Here's what your gonna do. If you don’t listen carefully, there's a ring in my drawer that would look beautiful on your cock.” Eddies words made you a bit jealous, a bit dizzy, and a whole lot excited.

You never saw Steve crumble under your words the way he was with Eddie. 

“I want your hands above your head. If in the first round you can behave, I'll unhook you and you can touch as you please.” Eddie said. A sweet kiss pressed to Steve's mouth, leaving a moment for objection before he pulled away to turn to the bed. 

“Take your shirt off and I'll get you done up all pretty huh?.” Eddie said softer than before. You shuffled awkwardly and as Steve stripped his shirt while Eddie glanced back at you.

“Don’t look so left out sweet baby. I have even better things for you.” 

You bit your lip, your head gaining that pleasant, fuzzy wave. 

With trembling knees you watched him skillfully secure Steve to his headboard, the glint of the silver cuffs looked delicious around his wrists.  Even more appealing was Eddie leaning softly in and kissing Steve with a gentle peck. 

“All good?” He asked sweetly and Steve nodded enthusiastically with a gentle grin.

When Eddie's eyes were back on you, it was that lingering excitement all over again.

He all but strutted over to you. His hands moving in an easy slide under your shirt, touching the bare skin of your waist. 

“Mmm, you’re so soft, baby. Wanna sink my teeth into every part of you” He growled and you sucked your already swollen lip in once more to hold back pleas.

“Now, you're gonna put on a little show for me and Steve while I tell you all about what's coming. Does that sound good?” He asked. You nodded, moving to kiss him but stopped when his hand grabbed your face. His thumb dug deliciously into your cheek.

“Ah ah. You have to ask for that now. You only get what I give you. “ You nodded to the best of your ability still in his tight clutch. 

“Are you okay with slapping, my darling?” He asked.

Your eyes widened and you nodded.

He pulled his hand away from your face with a satisfied look.

“Okay. You wanna know what that means though, pretty?” It was rhetorical but with his dramatic pause you wanted to blurt out ‘what?!’.

“It means you don’t listen, I’m gonna slap your pretty face until you do. You wanna go home to mommy with a red cheek, darling? Or are you gonna be a good whore.”

The moan you let out was pornographic and he chuckled. It was all but condescending, the way he so casually made his requests and held you on his little rope wrapped right around his finger.

“Now strip. Show us the goods, baby.” He muttered in your ear before pressing a final fleeting kiss under your ear.

You did as he said, obediently. Unbuckling the belt of your pants in unhurried hesitations.

“You’re gonna ride Steve first okay. I want your back facing him and I'm gonna face you. You’re gonna listen to everything I say and show Steve what he's been missing.”

In a right mind, you know both you and the latter would make a biting remark about how if you really missed it this wouldn't be the first sex you've had together in almost two years. But you resided to smiling at him with anticipation.

“Aw, don’t look so happy yet, baby. You wanted to try my ropes, I remember.” You stopped where you were unbuttoning the front of your shirt.

“Your hands are gonna be behind your back until you come. No touching until Steve gets you off. Is that okay?” He glances at you and Steve. You nod with enthusiasm and Steve rolls his head back lightly before muttering, ‘Yes’ in a mind-bending whine.

“Get on with it then. We don’t have all-day, hot stuff” Eddie gestured and you fumbled for a moment with the rest of your shirt’s buttons. 

His eyes on you made your hands tremble and the wetness between your legs was all the more distracting than you focusing on slipping the small ceramic buttons through their holes. 

With frustration, you finally shed the shirt. 

Eddie, ever the guy he was, whistled in appraisal as you stood in baggy jeans and a red satin bra. 

It was older, your chest pushed against the cups in resistance as the cups struggled to hold you all in.

“Aren't you just bursting out, darling? Hiding all that under those stupid button-ups is really a shame.” 

You never knew that the praise you’d been accustomed to spewing would make the hot tendrils of satisfaction wrap around you. This entire thing was full of revelations, anticipating what more you were going to learn in this.

You slid your pants down leaving you in your bra and a tight pair of women's boy shorts.

Eddie's eyes were glued to the plush of your thighs. Steves's desperate eyes were bouncing from the space between your shoulders and where the hem of your boy shorts held to your skin.

He’d seen it before and you never let it pass your mind every time he ogled you, just how good it felt to be so appealing in his eyes.

“Come here,” Eddie's voice was low again, it flipped you back to when he’d said the same words earlier. Where all of this began.

You strode over, daringly moving to rub a hand through his hair. His hand gripped your wrist, fast and rough. 

“Don't touch.” 

His voice was heavy. You let out a small gasp as he turned your wrist, still gripped tightly by him. Pressing a gentle kiss to your palm he tugged hard, you were against him quickly, bare skin against the fabric of his rough jeans.

You settled in his lap, glancing briefly to where Steve was wide-eyed.   

“Look at me, angel.” 

Your head snapped back to look at his small smile. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a kiss to his lips. 

Then you pulled away, sharing a breath for a moment, his hands moving up the bare skin of your back.

“I should punish you for not asking, but that was just too cute.” He smiled into a kiss he pressed wetly against your sternum.

The hands on your back climbed up and you felt, with eased practice, he unclips your bra. 

With joyous excitement you let your arms drop from where you gripped his shoulders. The silky straps slide down your arms and Eddies eyes flicked between your face and where the burgundy cloth slid.

You smiled shifting higher on your knees so you had the plush swells of your breasts right in his eyesight.

His eyes stared wide, well wider than they naturally already were, his big hands calloused against the tender skin of your waist.

He pressed a few more kisses to your chest before letting his lips trail in searing trails to the peaks of your tits.

You felt your nipples pebble, begging to feel the rough slide of the fingers, hardened from his guitar, rub against them. Or the heat of his mouth wrapping around them and sucking until they were red and swollen.

You thought of Steve again. Your eyes fluttered with enjoyment as Eddie covered you in hickies, you panned to look at the man all tied up.

He was stiff in his jeans. Well, it could also be half mass, it was hard to tell with a dick his size. You remembered its stretch, how thick it was. 

Eddie finally placed a kiss on your nipples making your eyes jump down to where he worked diligently. 

 He pulled away just as the fuzzy feeling all but consumed you. You squirmed, barely brushing the obvious hard-on in his tight pants.

“Now I see why Steve uses excuses to see these.” 

Steve only made a whine in response, obviously not enjoying being ignored. 

“I think he's getting jealous. Why don't you give him some attention, baby?” Eddie cooed and you nodded scrambling to settle on Steve's lap. 

His eyes watched with widened amusement as you smiled at him. “You look really good so desperate again.”

You could hear Eddie rustling behind you and let yourself have a moment with Steve.

“I’m really looking forward to this, ya know.” You jabbed once again. Leaning into his space for a teasing moment before, ever the impatient asshole he was, Steve surged forward and kissed you.

It was different than Eddie. Way more familiar, less desperate heat, and more common practice, muscle memory for you both.

As you were beginning to lose yourself in Steve's kisses, how he whimpered softly into your mouth, you felt Eddie shift. He sat behind you, Steve's knees bent to give him space. You tried to pay no mind to the slight tension that filled you, anticipating his next move. 

Then a hand was gripping your hair, you shrieked as you were jerked up. Your back was flush to Steve's thighs, you could feel his hard-on against where you were leaking with wetness.

“That’s enough,” Eddie muttered in your ear, his attention quickly shifting to Steve. 

“Having fun yet, pretty boy?” Eddie crooned and Steve nodded with shocked eyes. 

With gooey movements, Eddie wiggled around you and attached a kiss to Steve's bare chest. 

“You’re doing real good, bunny.” 

The name made Steve keen. You never knew he was one for the soft lovey names. 

Eddie swiped a sticky piece of hair from Steve's forehead planting a kiss before you barely heard what he spoke.

“Such a desperate bitch, Steve. All whiny for anything we give you. You like being just a little toy for us, bunny?” 

Steve nodded quickly and Eddie let out that deep rumbling laugh that made your toes curl.

“You’ll get attention soon.” He said before pulling back. 

Eddies hands ran along the waistband of your underwear, a gentle silence before he eased you down to lay against Steve's chest. 

The hair tickled your face a little but the warm skin came in comfort. 

“Gonna prep you for him. Alright?” Eddie asked, very well knowing from the dark patch on your underwear that you were nothing short of pleading for him to get on with it.

“Let's get you tied up first how about that honey?” 

You wanted to kick your feet and stomp like a toddler. Every time you were hopeful of finally getting what you need it seemed Eddie found more and more ways to wind you up.

His hands roughly grabbed at your arms. Pinning them behind your back, the damp skin of your back flat against both of your forearms.

“Such a good bitch.” Eddie muttered, and with a quick move, his hand colliding with the skin of your ass. 

You almost screamed, a choked wet sound finding its way out instead. 

His hand kneaded the fat where he slapped, undoubtedly now cherry red. 

“Again.” You pant, and as if he knew you would ask he gripped your flesh again.

“Say it properly.” He scolded. 

“Please!” You whimpered.

He clicked his tongue. “Now, you're missing an important part baby. Don't fuck this up before I even get inside you darling.” 

“P-please slap me again, Sir!” 

In another quick movement, another loud slap was heard and you gripped onto Steve a little tighter from where ur arms had jerked up and out of Eddies positioning.

It wasn't long though before he gripped your arms again and you were gnawing your lip with anticipation.

The rope isn't thick, it was a silky smooth black length and felt delicious against your skin. Eddie worked it around you with skilled hands. Tugging and lifting to bind you fully.

 You pulled a little to test his knots and were pleasantly met with resistance.

“Good girl,” Eddie muttered into your ear. “Roll-off, “ He said and nudged you slightly until you unwind yourself from Steve and rolled to the empty space beside him.

Eddie quickly crowded into Steve's space, murmuring to him before pressing a gentle kiss from behind his ear and connecting with his mouth. It was open mouth and desperate, Eddie's hand shimmying in an unhurried pace down Steve's body until he cupped Steves hard on.

Steve whined and you finally got to watch fully as a pleased smile passed over Eddie's face. 

With a few mutters you couldn't quite hear, and a few kisses in between, Eddie was pulling Steve's jeans off.

He passed bites and kisses to Steve's legs as he reached Steve's ankle pressing one final kiss before dropping them and tossing away the clothes.

He slowly but surely removed Steve's boxers, the familiar thick length baby pink and throbbing hard. 

“He’s already dripping for you,” Eddie said to you as he leaned back. Steve gasped out and squirmed with the newfound cool air against the heat of his erection.

If you could lift yourself up, you’d be pouncing to lick up the puddle of precum that glistened off his tip.

Eddie smiled lazily at both of you, his eyes droopy with lust. It wasn't long before he silently pointed at you and curled his finger in a come hither. 

You squirmed and arched trying to sit up. It was an embarrassing display of desperation.

He chuckled before moving to roughly grip your waist, he pulled you up with ease and you slumped against his chest, dazed and burning with want. 

He kissed your shoulders before turning you around to face Steve who was offering a gentle smile. 

“Lay how you were before. I’ve changed plans.” He said and Steve whined as the bare skin of your thigh brushed his hard-on as you moved with stumbling jerks to reposition.

“God, honey, you look so pretty scrambling to listen even when you're all tied up. So desperate to please me, huh?”

You nodded as he pressed himself to your back. 

“You can speak.” 

You whined loud before speaking. 

“Feels so- feels so embarrassing.” You panted. Eddie just chuckled against your marked skin. The bruises began to ache as he pressed his lips back over the darkening cherry splotches.

“I’m gonna get you off first. And then Steve can cum down your throat. How’s that for ya?” He asked, turning between you and Steve.

It wasn't that Steve had a low libido. He could crank three out in two hours easily. But with how red and leaking, how gooey he looked already. He was one and done. 

It was a bit of an ego boost how easy it was for Steve to come for you. You wondered what it would be like with Eddie for a moment. Only a moment though because a hand was pushing the wet fabric of your panties to the side and a rough, thick finger ran up the length of your cunt.  

You had to fight to lean forward and sink your teeth into Steve's skin to relieve the tension you felt.

“You don't like when I tease?”  Eddie asked, rubbing his, now cum slick fingers over the round skin of your ass.

“Just want you so bad, sir!” You pleaded. It was a new feeling. To be so overwhelmingly needy, enough so you could abandon your humility like this and beg for him.

You could hear Eddie's smile as he spoke. 

“It’s what you get for earlier. Asking me all those questions with your pretty little eyes just begging me to show you.” 

His finger grazed your clit. It was swollen and hot as he split two fingers and softly edged around it. It offered just enough to make your breath quicken.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, baby.” He bit into your shoulder again. 

You arched against his touch as he spread dampness around your clit before running a finger over it.

“F-fuck!” You moaned as he rubbed soft circles into your core.

“Does it feel good?” He asked.

Your mind was too clouded with the need for more. A firmer touch, a quicker slide.

“More!” You plead, Steve choking when you felt your clothes cunt brush against his cock.

“Aw baby. You sound so good begging for me but-“ He quickly gripped your throat, pulling you back flush against his chest for the umpteenth time. 

You screamed, desperately grinding down onto Steve's hard-on.

“Stop,” Eddie said through gritted teeth. You halted every movement. There was only the noise of your panting.

“I knew you could be a good girl.” He praised his thumb running up and down on your throat, the striking cold rings made your skin bloom into goosebumps.

His hand slid down to the waist of your panties, hand still lightly pressed against your neck. 

He toyed with it for a brief second before sliding his hand in them and rubbing in quick tight circles on your clit. 

Supernovas exploded behind your eyes and you curled your back against him.

“Steve, doesn't she just look wonderful?” Eddie asks and Steve chuckles.

“Forgot how hot she is, fuck.” Steve breathed. You felt your thighs shake around Eddie's hand.

“Lean forward now,” Eddie said smoothly, releasing your neck. He pressed a kiss against your back before you leaned down, arching your back for him.

You could die with the feeling of his hands on you, the slight burn of his facial hair where he had kissed you raw.

He slid your panties to the side again, using his middle finger to slide towards your hole. You whined, fighting the urge to grind against him. 

It didn't even take begging though. His finger slid to circle the wetness of your hole before sliding his finger in.

You clenched in pleasure and his thick finger slid into your heat with no resistance.

“Mmm, so tight baby. How'd you give up pussy this good, Harrington?” 

You melted under Eddie's touch. His fingers seemed skilled, curling to press to the soft mesh of your g-spot.

He thrust them a few times before, with ease, slid in a second. You moaned, high in your throat, mouth falling open to pant against Steve's skin.

“Does that feel good, my pretty little slut?” 

“Yes, sir! Your fingers are so thick, Eddie!” You writhed, the breath being punched out of you as he sped up his thrusts. 

You could hear the squelching of your arousal. How soaking you were from how he was fingering you.

“Are you already getting close?” Eddie chided and you noticed how your cunt was spasming around his digits. The coil that was tightening in your gut was growing with pent-up tension.

“Yes! Yes, fuck! I wanna cum.” You exclaim. Drool was already dribbling by the time he was on his third finger. 

You wanted to whine for his cock. It was hard not to, you weren’t used to this desperate urge to please. The all-consuming need to do what he says to earn his praises in the deep rumbling of his voice. 

You felt the coil wind tighter. Teetering on the edge with thighs shaking, trying not to move in case he stopped ramming into the spot that felt like firecrackers exploded under your skin. 

As soon as you felt like you were being granted your release he pulled away. 

You cried out pushing back in desperation. 

“Aw, baby girl. You can’t come just yet. You want me to fuck you, right?” 

You nodded with teary eyes. You tugged at your binds wanting to cling to Steve's skin under you.

“Want your cock so bad Eds!” You cried. 

“Holy shit-“ You heard steve breathe. You made a subtle grind down onto his cock.

“Never heard her whine for it, Eddie. You’re so good, fuck. You’re both so hot.” Steve said, you squirmed, shifting to suck a mark into his skin in a disgustingly mushed, desperate way. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Steve laughed airily. 

“Want you to feel good too.” 

“We’ll get there,” Eddie said this time. 

You didn't look back at him, just laid with drool-covered lips against the flustered skin of Steve's chest. 

“You ready for my cock now pretty girl?” Eddie asked. 

You nodded, spreading your thighs wider in invitation. The air was cooling the wetness between your legs.

“That's it, baby.” He rubbed your ass, striking it again just as he'd done earlier. But as he did you felt the head of his cock against your hole.

The stretch made your eyes roll back. 

You thought in a moment of everything that had led up to this and none of it could prepare you for how utterly satisfied you felt as he speared you down on him, giving no time to adjust.

You squeaked out garbled sounds. 

He was thick, fully sheathed in your heat. He was just long enough that you ached with how deep he was but not long enough to smash your cervix.

“That's it. Take my cock like that, whore.” Eddie gritted. His hips stutter, pulling out just slightly to nudge in deeper.

“You’re sucking me in, honey. Tell me how it feels?”

You screamed as he began to thrust, not knowing how you were to describe the feeling of being drained of any cognitive thought.

“Fuck! So good, sir! Need you so bad! You’re so fucking deep in me…” You trailed off the end and fell into gasps as he began to thrust harder. He nailed your g-spot a few times but it felt heavenly even with him brushing against it.

You never understand people who screamed and cried during sex but with the amount of tension and your already nonexistent filter, no thanks to the weed, you sounded whoreish even to yourself.

You suddenly understood why Steve went so soft as you rode him roughly, battering him with praises and a twist of degrading spews.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chanted, the binds were now something of a punishment. You wanted to reach back and hold Eddie's hips. 

To grip his hair and hear him right in your ear as you brought him to the edge.

But he slipped out without warning.

“I think it’s time we give Steve some huh?” Eddie stated, your wet lashes fluttering. 

You heard fumbling above you but everything was blurry and you were gasping for air. 

Before you could let your breaths even out and utterly melt into Steve's comfort, you were being tugged back. This time slower, with a gentle hand on your tummy to ease you. 

You fought against already weakened thighs so as to not fall on Steve's exposed cock.

You spared a glance at where precum had bubbled out enough to leave a cloudy mess on the hairy stomach.

“You can touch,” Eddie said. It wasn’t towards you obviously, and you opened heavy lids to see Steve, now freed from his cuffs. 

His wrists were red from where he tugged. 

He sat up quickly much to your enjoyment. You settled on his thick thighs, the craving urge to grind your sopping mess against him grew tenfold as the muscles tensed. 

You watched with a dazed feeling as Steve and Eddie met in a kiss over your shoulder. 

“You did so well. Now it’s time for you to feel good alright?” Eddie said softly, his thumb soothing Steve's raw skin.

They shared a final fleeting kiss before Steve's attention was on you.

You lurched forward in a surge of desperation. You planted directly into the skin of his neck, the musky smell of his sweat making you swoon.

His arms wrapped around you as he held you tenderly. There was a shift, you could all feel it.

Eddies once striking hands, leaving burning slaps were tracing your skin like fine china. Steve's familiarity was soothing. 

You felt sedated, like a patient given gas at the dentist, all loopy and pliant. 

“You’re gonna suck Steve off while I fuck you okay?” Eddie spoke softly. 

“Do you want to stay tied up, or can you be good without them and keep your hands to yourself?”

You tugged on the binds, just to feel the dig of the rope.

“Wanna stay tied up.” You muttered, your voice thick.

“Okay, honey.” Eddie laughed. “We’ve created a rope bunny, Steve. Hungry to be tied up and fucked like a toy.”

The heat was back with that. Eddie applying pressure to ur hips in a way to tell you to lift up. Assisting you heavily with how gooey your muscles felt.

Eddie pulled your underwear off, leaving your sopping cunt clenching against the cold air. 

Your cunt was already red, swollen from Eddie pounding into you. Your clit felt almost painful to rub and your arms shuddered under your weight. 

You eyed Steve as he settled on shaky legs in front of you. You waited patiently for permission but there was saliva pooling in your mouth as you stared down the leaking tip of his cock standing at attention in front of you.

“You can touch,” Eddie said softly, motioning to Steve's cock. If you weren't desperate to feel it drag against your tongue you would have snapped back about how ‘touching it’ wasn't an option when he had you basically hogtied.

You however only lurched forward letting your spit-soaked lips catch on his tip. You let the bubbling pearls of his precum coat your lips before glancing up, letting him watch you lick it off your lips before delving to take his sensitive tip back in.

You licked roughly at the spot lying on the underside of his cock, reveling in the way he shuddered. He throbbed in your mouth and a satisfied smile crept on your lips.

After a few moments of swirling your tongue around the tip, you relaxed your jaw and sunk down. The heavyweight pushing its way towards your throat was deeply satisfying. Your eyes fluttered as you relaxed and let yourself fall down enough that the curls of his pubic hair brushed against your nose.

He was panting and pawing at your hair. You could feel his hips fighting to thrust into where your throat clamped around him.

You stayed there for a moment to tease, but it was cut short at the feeling of a hand brushing against your windpipe. 

“I can feel your cock.” Eddie said to Steve making the both of you crumple a little inwards. Your body felt weak and begging for release. Eddie moved, quick and with purpose. You heard a small gasp before the tell-tale signs of kissing. Your mind was too fuzzy and your eyes too blurry, so you could only imagine the hot side of the two men's mouths. 

You could feel your cunt drooling, the wetness of your thighs an indicator of how badly you wanted him back in you.

You whined around Steve's cock again, making the man's thighs tremble. 

You pulled away to breathe, swirling lazily around his head again as you gasps, spitting the precum that was building in your mouth. Steve moaned as you made a mess of his cock, a hand ran softly along your face and brushed sticky hair behind your ear.

You were so mind-boggled and caught up in the trimmers of Steve's hips that when you felt the brush of Eddie's cock against the opening of your cunt, you gasped.

You moaned briefly, relishing in the slick head and rubbing your sensitive clit. Eddie however, gripped your head, shoving your gaping mouth back down onto Steve.

You gagged for a moment as he held you down, slipping his cock past your puffy folds again as your eyes swelled with tears.

Steve's gentle fingers swiped away a tear. It was dizzying. His soft touch in contrast with the demanding grip of Eddies whose hands were bruising your hips.

You were definitely going to stare at his marks in the mirror later and fight the urge to touch yourself.

You wished you could bottle up the feeling of him roughly slamming into you to keep for later. 

You wanted it to always be this good. Him purposely missing your sweet spot in favor of enjoying the bulge that showed in your stomach. The taste of Steve heavy on your tongue.

“That’s it” Eddie moaned out as he slowed his thrusts, adjusting his angle to barely scrape your spot. Fireworks exploded in the small of your back. You felt it in your fingertips.

“You feel so good” Came the ruined voice of Steve. You smiled in satisfaction, your tired muscles fighting to keep bobbing along to his shallow thrusts. 

The hand Eddie was using to hold you off the bed by your ties suddenly let go. Steve's cock slipped out of your mouth as you fell face-first into the bedsheets. You could faintly smell Eddie on them, turning you on further as he seemed to wrap around you. The new angle made it feel like he was in your guts.

“Fuck, sir!” You screamed as he slammed himself into you a few times. It was a welcomed assault on your cunt that made you all but lose control of your body.

You were deviously close to your peak. There was cum in your mouth and covering your thighs. You only prayed for Eddie's cock leaking his pleasure into you.

“Breed me!” You whined out. A hand slapped your ass firmly. 

There were no rings this time. No cool stinging left over, just the heat on your reddening skin.

It came from Steve, you soon realized only when Eddie spoke.

“Good job, baby! Doing all the work for me huh? Don't even have to punish my toy, got a whole ‘nother to do it for me.” 

Steve let out a breathy laugh and you wanted to choke him out and edge him and make him beg for your mercy again. 

All of your cockiness flew out when Eddie's cock slid out though. You began to let out wails of desperation against his bed. 

“Shhh, be a patient slut.” Eddie soothed pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. He caressed the sweat-slicked skin of your body before he slowly moved you.

You were so discombobulated it took you a minute to realize he had laid you on your back.

You gazed up at him the best you could. Your eyelashes were wet and heavy with tears.

You arched against him as he leaned down pressing a gentle sweet kiss to your cheek. The shine of your tears were pretty against his swollen mouth.

He settled down again, sitting up on his haunches. You eyed him, taking in the smooth chest, how his skin was shiny with sweat.

You didn't have much time to wallow in the intimacy before a hand was against your chin. 

You strained as you tilted your head back, staring blissfully up at Steve's sugary sweet smile.

You gasped, Steve's fingers still in a firm grip making it harder to drop your jaw as Eddie slid back into your heat.

Steve's fingers softly brushed your mouth, a rough contrast from the deep, harsh thrusts Eddie was delivering. 

You clenched your thighs around Eddie's waist, whining under Steve's touch. He was still hard and dripping, cheeks still flushed red with arousal.

You gathered as much of yourself as possible, tilting back to let your mouth make contact with his balls. He hissed above you, hand moving to find its perch in your hair as drool seeped out the corners of your mouth and rolled down your cheeks.

You hummed around him as Eddie thrusts sped up, nailing your throbbing spot once more. This time his thumb came to rub at your clit. It was overwhelming, nearing too much, your orgasm speeding towards you. 

“E-Eddie, I think she's close.” You heard Steve stutter out. 

You made a show of sucking harder at the soft skin of his nuts before pulling off fully and sticking out your wet tongue in invitation. 

Steve looked at Eddie for permission, it was wholly adorable how easily he fell into place. Asking Eddie for permission like it was common sense. 

“You can use her mouth baby, you deserved it,” Eddie said, his voice was still that deep rumble as before, but now he was panting, almost straining towards to end. You clenched around him just to tease, relishing in the moan he let out.

“Doing do good, princess.” Eddie praised, fingernails lightly scratching against where you squirmed on his cock.

“Make my boy cum and you can let go, my love.” He tacked on. You clenched around him again, this time not of your own volition. It was the sugary sweet indication of what his words would mean after they all came.

Steve looked down at you with his swollen mouth, his red face, and his hair that curled at the ends from his sweat, and you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be as he slipped his cock in. 

He was quick to ease into the wet heat. You were familiar with him fucking your mouth this way after all. He loved seeing your tits, loved watching himself bulge out of your throat from where you could barely contain him.

It wasn't long until you were sucking in desperate gasps of air, that he throbbed a few times. 

Eddie had been slowly fucking you through Steve's rough gluttony, you teetered just on the edge of your own release. It was almost jealousy-inducing when Eddie gave Steve permission to cum. 

You envied how he shook, how his cock slipped from your lips and shot thick hot ropes of his release against your chest. Your sensitive nipples perking up at the splatter that covered them.

“Good boy, so fucking good, Steve,” Eddie said through gritted teeth as he thrust into you quicker again.

With a raw throat, you all but screamed with desperation. 

“Oh! Please! Please! Please, fuck!” You begged, your eyes fell shut with exhaustion, your body was sizzling with adrenaline.

“Aw, come on now. Make me cum before you start crying like a cum hungry bitch.” Eddie said snidely. You cried out as he pounded in, his thrusts sloppy as he neared his release.

“I-inside!” You cried as his groans tightened, his hands tensed and gripped at the fat of your hips as you did all you could to fight back your orgasm.

“I'm so close, baby, just a bit longer.” He huffed and you couldn't help the scream that bubbled in your throat.

“Breed me! Want you to come in me, Eddie!” You pleaded with him, turning to the best of your ability to look over your shoulder at him. 

What you saw made the knot in your stomach boil over. Eddies eyes fluttered at your words, his jaw fell open. His lips cherry, neck slightly spattered with marks. There was sweat that dripped down his chest, rolling alongside red scratches.

You felt his cock throb and your insides were coated with his release. It was hot, heavy, and pushed deep as he pushed as hard as he could against you. 

You whined loudly, gasping at the way his cock still throbbed even as he stopped shooting ropes into your womb.

“Fuck! Shit, baby!” He cursed over and over, his muscles tensing and then releasing as he melted behind you.

You squirmed around his overstimulated dick, begging still for your own release.

Eddie pressed a kiss to your chest before you felt him begin to rub along your arms.

Your shoulders were screaming in soreness that you chose to ignore in favor of Eddie blowing your back out.

You were arched up as he shifted, fingers working diligently to untie you blindly, his glassy eyes watching with softness as tears still trickled from your eyes.

When your arms were finally free and you sunk back into the bed, trembling as his cock shifted in your pleading cunt.

With a pent-up desperation, you clung to his sweaty hair as his fingers came down, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

Your slickness and the skills of his fingers made you tremble. The way you shook was demonic, you twisted your hands as tight as you could as his fingers worked you to your peak.

It was like a crack in a dam. It came flooding out in body rocking waves. You felt like it would never end.

You could barely hear Eddie talking you through it. 

“Thaaats it,” He cooed. “Good fucking girl.”

You felt sobs breakthrough you as you began to delve into overstimulation.

“E-Eddie.” You weakly breathed. His hand left your pussy, your eyes cracked open to see his hand. Drenched.

You felt a wave of embarrassment as you came down.

“Never made a girl squirt before,” Eddie said, in all but awe as he stared at your juices rolling down his arm.

You leaned up on trembling arms, glancing between his hands at his smiling face.

“Good god you could kill a man.” Eddie chuckled. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, a sweet show of affection. It was a smacking, dramatic kiss, one so very Eddie.

 It was hard to believe what he called you minutes ago, that he was still cracking wise with your cum dripping down his arm.

“Fuck, that was good.” You breathed, flopping back beside where Steve was now bobbing in and out of consciousness. His eyes tired. You felt exhaustion take over, the room smelled of sex, weed, and Eddie's cologne.

“I’ll be back,” Eddie reassured as he left quickly. You rolled with screaming fatigue to look at Steve.

His eyes were closed but he sighed.

“You know. I never thought sex was going to be better than with you.” You spoke.

A smile creaked onto Steve's face.

“Me neither. I think you've ruined me for anyone else.” Steve slurred out.

You laughed, you always laughed at his jokes.

“Good. You’re mine.” You said. Not possessively. He wasn’t yours, and you knew that. But he was always going to be the person to you.

The one where nothing really mattered except them. Where every thought somehow developed into images of them. 

You had sunk your teeth in him as a wee high schooler and never let go. 

Eddie came back, a t-shirt pulled on and a pair of pajama pants hung low on his hips.

He wiped you slowly. Pressing kisses as he did. You both giggled and laughed as he muttered stupid comments to you.

“Nice!“ He would quietly exclaim as he noticed particularly dark bruises. 

“Looks like I tried to kill ya!” He said as he applied ointment to the stinging rope burn that wrapped in stripes on your arms.

You relished in how good it felt to be treated with such delicate kindness after sex. You wanted it to always be like this. The degrading roughness as he took what he pleased, only to be coddled and soothed after. 

Your mind flicks to other things you wanted to do with Eddie. Letting him show you everything you were curious about. 

He kissed you softly, tasting like minty mouthwash and beer now. 

You fell asleep with that taste on your lips as he cleaned up Steve beside you.

The bed dipped and his arm was around you. And that was the last thing you felt before succumbing to exhaustion.

[peaches-writes]

penalty kick

description: maybe you got off on the wrong foot...actually, jisung did actually pushed you off the wrong foot.  member: jisung / han  genre: fluff, slice of life, coming of age, childhood frenemies / rivals to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, neighbor au, high school au, college au, lil dashes of soccer baseball musician & campus dj au bc jisung ace, female reader, off-season universe (mc from naturally is jeoyeon, mc from tumbles & turns is bora, and mc from off-season is kira hek)  word count: 12k warnings: explicit language, alcohol (a tiny mention of underage drinking pls drink responsibly!), mentions of injuries, jisung issa lil dumb & a lil shit but issokay hes an adorable lil shit note: @crscendoforsung so i scraped the witch jisung au (but i’ll come back to it in the future maybe it’s still in my drafts lol) so here is dumbass jisung for now + im away on christmas day so here’s my gift a day in advanced lmao

Age four. Your neighbor and favorite playmate, Han Jisung, pushed you so hard on the swings at your neighbourhood playground that you literally flew out of your plastic curved seat and bruised your knees, elbows, and chin. 

Maybe you did had it coming from continuously complaining that he ‘pushed like a sissy’ and even standing up on the swing set just to brag that you can balance all of your body weight on such flimsy material. Maybe your neighbor has always had a secret grudge on you finally enacted through this incident. Either way, the next thing you knew, a wide-eyed Jisung was on your side alternating between calling for adult help, crying over your bruises, and muttering curses he probably heard from his older brother under his breath. 

“Shit, shit shit...” He squeaked out frantically in his tiny voice, gently moving you to a sitting position on the stone pavement and dusting the dirt off of your bleeding injuries despite your loud complaints that your entire body was hurting. Looking around your surroundings, his breath then got caught up in his throat at seeing your mother fast-approaching with a mix of furious and worried in her expression. “Auntie! Help!” 

Your mother was hovering over you in an instant, examining your bruises with furrowed brows and clenched teeth. “Ah, dear God, what happened here?!” She exclaimed in a scolding tone, piercing gaze darting between your tearful eyes and Jisung’s panicked ones. “Jisung, did you do this?” 

“It was an accident auntie!” The boy in question answered immediately as he shook his head nervously and scooted away with his hands up in defense. “It was an accident, I promise!” 

However, with your back turned to him then, you naturally had a different impression of the incident as you quickly retorted, “He pushed me, mommy! He pushed me off of the swing!” 

Your mother never made any clear indication that she believed you as she simply shook your head and lifted you by your shoulders and knees, carrying you to a nearby bench to treat your wounds. 

Angered by your outburst, Jisung reluctantly followed you and your mother to the bench then glared at you until your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. With his arms crossed and a permanent frown bordering a pout on his lips, he stood next to you in his attempt at looking visibly angry for a puny five-year-old while you hissed and whined in pain the entire time. 

What’s worse is that his own mother made him apologize by sending him off to the nearest convenience store to buy you apple juice and steamed buns. Because of this, you’ve been mortal enemies, rivals, each other’s designated future potential killer, whatever you want to call it ever since.

Age seven. Han Jisung helped perpetuate a wild rumour that you and the rest of the class’ female population had ‘cooties.’ 

It’s only natural for boys at this age to gravitate to similar actions, of course. After all, you’ve heard worse from boys in the other classes (read: Hwang Hyunjin crying and demanding to get sent home because a girl kissed him on the cheek on the first day of classes). It’s the fact that Jisung actually seemed to have to believed it for a brief period of time in your first grade, however, that completely threw you off. 

He pulled on your braids during the time he sat behind you and kicked your shins while in line for P.E. class to ‘test your anger patience’ that was apparently fueled by cooties and occasionally stole your snacks for actual ‘DNA evidence’ of said cooties among other petty little things. It was nothing short of annoying and the very bane of your existence then. 

“Han Jisung cut it out!” You yelled at him one day, hitting him on the shoulder with the curved end of your wooden broom during after-class cleaning time. In this particular incident, the boy managed to swiftly take one of your pigtails out while wiping the windows in an attempt to ‘examine’ the DNA in your hair. 

“What?!” He snickered, taking a big step away from you and lifting up the blue scrunchie to examine it for miniscule strands of loose hair. “It’s for research!” 

You groaned in annoyance, reaching forward to retrieve the scrunchie with one hand while the other instinctively ran through the messed up half of your hair. “Jisung, give it back, you weirdo!” You scolded through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes when he shakes his head stubbornly and takes another step back from your reach. 

“Tell me the secret first!” 

“Secret of what?!” 

“Do you girls actually have cooties?” He quirked a genuinely suspicious eyebrow at you, raising the scrunchie above your heads after when you proceed lunge forward at him. “Does it actually make you guys this irritable all the time?” 

Somehow, the questions struck some kind of nerve in you. You were tired from classes, cleaning, and having to put up with Jisung’s childish antics. Maybe 1st grade girls did have cooties but for tapping into unbridled anger. “I’m going to kill you!” With the broom in your hands and the dust pan you snatched from his in retaliation, you then proceeded on repeatedly hitting Jisung in the forearms and shoulders until he surrendered with his arms protectively over his head and your scrunchie finally within reach. 

He also offered to fix your pigtail back for you but given the amount of distrust you already had for him, you simply smacked him one last time and went to the other end of the room to fix your hair. 

Age nine. Maturing a little bit through summer camps and classes, you and Jisung redirected all of your energy from physical violence to outsmarting each other in class. 

It started in English class when Mrs. Lee introduced the idea of recitations garnering students points and a fancy award at the end of the school year. Coming from the same piano class in the summer prior wherein you and Jisung also competed for your instructor’s attention, the two of you were quick to consider this as another one of your competitions. 

You devoted most of your time to studying the lesson from the what’s, who’s, when’s, and where’s while Jisung thought that focusing more on the deeper why’s and how’s would somehow garner him better points no matter how many times Mrs. Lee reiterated that all recitation points are given in 1 point’s. 

As the school year progressed, especially after the first semester report cards came out and the two of you were tied to first place in English to the very third decimal, the academic rivalry immediately extended to competing for the most amount of extra-curricular activities. You were more favored with the way you handled baby animals at the local shelter and competed in debates and quiz bees while Jisung was mainly noticed by the soccer and baseball coaches and the school choir’s moderator for his skills in sports and music. 

Jisung’s mom, who always picked the two of you up from school in her minivan, obliviously thought it was cute. 

“You know, instead of competing over everything all the time, you guys can take some notes from each other.” She pointed out one time after hearing your comment on Jisung ‘smelling like a polluted Pacific Ocean’ as he climbed in the backseat of the car. The sentiment almost went in one ear and came out of the other with the two of you, however, as Jisung proceeded on complaining that you smelled like ‘Cruella de Vil’s fake fur coat’ then hitting you on the head with his soccer ball. “Especially you, Sungie. You can learn a thing or two of keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week from Y/N.” 

You laughed at Jisung’s immediate shocked reaction of wide eyes and gaping mouth at this, slapping his arm in amusement and toppling over the backseat in laughter. “Yeah, Sungie, you really need help from that department.” You stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, laughing even more when he groans and hits you back with a light punch to your own arm. 

“Stop it.” He hissed at you before turning to his mother again, meeting her gaze through the rear view mirror. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Mrs. Han was also stifling her own laughs then, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead instead of checking for her son’s pouting expression and crossed arms through the mirror. “Okay, okay.” She chuckled playfully with a dismissive hand, catching your eye after with a giggle. “Y/N, you should learn how to commit to exercise more with Jisung, then. There? Happy?” 

Satisfied, Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at you as if completely forgetting the fact that he was attacked by his own mother first. “Bleh!” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a light-hearted scoff of your own, laughing away the way he proceeded to exaggeratedly tease you. “You’re so childish, Sung.” 

When your moms did seriously consider this idea later on, you were then forced to dedicated one weekend to taking each other to your respective extra-curricular activities. It was right before your final examinations and Jisung ended up getting scared over a golden retriever giving birth while you received severe cramps from the elementary soccer team’s rigorous conditioning training. 

It was a recipe of disaster, basically, and it ultimately led you and Jisung to cram knowledge for your exams on Sunday night in his bedroom. When you stubbornly didn’t learn anything from going to each other’s favorite extra-curriculars, you unconsciously ended up learning from each other in the six hours you both stayed up trying to review your notes. Miraculously (as in the miracle of hot brewed Milo-induced sugar rushes), it went well and the two of you tied or were close in grades at the second release of report cards.  

The only downside of it all was just the fact that the fancy recitation award in your English class that started it all somehow went to Hyunjin. 

“Ah, this is so frustrating!” You exclaimed on the ride home from school. You had your report card in your hands like Jisung, looking back on it all the while stressing out about Hyunjin winning the award the two of you spent a whole school year competing for. 

On the other side of his mom’s backseats, Jisung then turned to you and suggested, “Want to prank him? We’re playing soccer next week, you can swap his Cola for soy sauce.” 

You glanced over at Jisung, your pout slowly turning into a mischievous grin at his raised brows. “You’re onto something...” 

Age ten. You went on your first class field trip with a stuffed purple lunch bag of snacks.

Your mother specifically suggested that you share it with Jisung, thinking that the two of you would sit next to each other on the bus since he’s your only classmate she’s actually familiar with. But of course, when Jisung didn’t bring up any hints that he knew of this while waiting for the school bus to arrive, you immediately thought against it and planned out how you were going to hide your seemingly endless supply of snacks from him on the back-and-forth rides to Namsan Tower.

It was a well thought-out plan involving sitting near to the front and as far away from him as possible with your own group of friends then hiding the lunch bag under your seat until you caught Hyunjin not-so-discreetly trying to steal from you while he re-checked attendance after a stop-over.

“Jisung put you up to this, didn’t he?” You frowned, candy successfully retrieved from Hyunjin’s prying hands and popped into your mouth as the lanky boy scratched the back of his head in shame. “It’s okay, Hyunjin, I won’t kill you. It’s Jisung’s corpse I’m planning to roll down Namsan if he’s actually behind this.”

After a few more coaxing, Hyunjin eventually nodded sheepishly and admitted to Jisung convincing him to take a candy bar from you.

“Ya! Hyunjin!” Jisung whined from across the bus, peeking his head up from the identical red seats with balled up fists. “I told you not to rat me out!”

“Y/N was being scary!” Hyunjin argues back, sprinting back to his seat as soon as the the bus stopped at a streetlight. Hiding under the sea of seats, he then exclaimed, “You two take me out of your fights! Geez!”

Jisung pouted at you as soon as you lifted your own head up from your seat and turned around to face him, holding his hands out in front of him and then asking, “Can’t I really have candy?”

You shook your head stubbornly. “If I give you one, everyone’s going to ask me for it too.”

“But everyone’s basically asleep!”

“They could be fake-sleeping for all I know!” You hissed, popping another ball of candy in your mouth. “I don’t trust anyone in this class with food but myself.” 

“Y/N!” He whined, only to get pulled down by force when the bus abruptly begins moving again. Scrambling up right after, he then continued pleading, “Please?”

“No.” You firmly concluded, sitting back down on your seat. 

Jisung even tried staying behind to try and steal candy off of you while the entire class was piling outside to enter Namsan Tower, only to trip in surprise when you jumped on him from crouching under the seats. Poor boy almost hit his head on the seats in shock.

“I knew you’d pull this kind of shit.” You tsked in disapproval with a slight stutter towards cursing at such an age, smacking him over the head anyway before throwing the smallest piece of chocolate candy you had from your bag. Moving past him to the bus exit, you then added, “You don’t even do nice things for me.”

You only meant it half-heartedly, though. Whether Jisung actually wanted more candy or he did sincerely felt bad over what you said, either way, he paid for the expensive pink lock you and your friend wanted to hang at the very top of the tower later on but only if you promised to share your snacks.

Jisung received three packets of gummy bears and a bottle of banana milk from you in the end on the ride home.

Age twelve. The Hans temporarily moved to Malaysia in the summer before the seventh grade because of an assignment for Jisung’s father at work.

On the day before their flight, Mr. and Mrs. Han organized a farewell party in their house at the other end of the block and invited your entire class. Jisung tricked you into getting him a farewell present by telling you that everyone was planning to do the same thing as a surprise but he secretly found out thing.

He didn’t actually expect you to get him something, not with the way the two of you have always been at each other’s necks since you were kids, but you ended up surprising him in the middle of the lunch party by giving him a small notebook of useful Malaysian phrases you wrote down yourself. You don’t always agree with Jisung but you think of yourself as thoughtful and civil enough to buy something practical. Also, your parents insisted. 

“O-Oh, you actually got me something?” He fumbled through an intense blush that matched the redness of his Supreme cap, almost tripping over nothing as you both stood on the steps leading down to the back of his house. It didn’t help that a few classmate passersby were glancing your way as well, either cooing or snickering at the awkward sight in the corner of all the socialization. “L-Like—like, this is actually for me?”

You raised a brow in confusion and reluctantly shrugged, releasing the red phrasebook from your grip as he held onto it by the other end. “Yeah, you said you’re getting presents so I...got you one.”

“I actually lied—“

“What?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly for your taste, earning you a sharp glare from your mother all the way across the backyard. Mouthing a quick apology to your her, you then quickly averted your glare back to Jisung who instinctively resorted to looking at anywhere but you. “But you said—“

“I thought for sure that no one would give me any farewell presents since it’s not a birthday or anything but I know you would if you’re like forced to or something so I thought...hehe...” He mustered up a sheepish grin, pressing his index fingers together in a comical shy gesture. When your glare intensifies, he then immediately held his hands up in defense and visibly winced, “Ya, don’t hit me!”

Every fiber in your being really wanted to hit him with the notebook then, maybe even push him down the stairs while no one was looking, but after a moment of thinking your way out of such violent thoughts, you resorted to exhaling a sigh and saying, “Whatever, just keep the notebook or something. I don’t care. It’s not expensive, anyway.”

You chanted to yourself that you’re mature, especially as Jisung’s eyes lit up and he immediately thanked you for both the gift and sparing his life that day.

Though he didn’t hear the end of the other teasing from Hyunjin after that, Jisung kept the notebook around anyway throughout his entire two-year stay in Malaysia. It was helpful but he’ll never admit that to your face.

“You kept it.” You pointed out one day, more as a statement than a question as you realized that the notebook he was using for exam reviewer notes was in the same color as the phrasebook you gave him. When Jisung came back in the summer before the ninth grade, the two of you met again in the same cram school wherein mostly everyone but you and the transfer student, Kim Seungmin, refused to help him keep up with the heavier than usual workload. “The phrasebook...”

“Yeah—well, I didn’t want to waste any of the pages you didn’t write on.” He pouted stubbornly as he flipped through the older pages to compare the amount of pages you used to the empty sheets. His tone actually sounded like he was convincing himself much more than he was trying with you but you missed it complete in the moment. “Be more eco-friendly, Y/N.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him. “Glad to know I kept you alive in another country somehow, then.”

Age fourteen. You went to a soccer game to see Jisung but only because one of your friends, Eunha, developed a crush on the striker and eventually hatched a plan to confess on the game before Valentine’s Day. Fortunately, Jisung barely noticed and didn’t tease you for it since it’s already an established fact that you’re always at his games with either Yang Jeongin or Seungmin to cheer on Hyunjin instead.

You really didn’t get it. Of course, fifteen was the time when some, if not all, parts of your day were starting to become dedicated to vanity and all the artificial things in life to attract kind of puppy love in school but at this point Jisung always wore the same green hoodie, red Supreme cap, and white ‘Eyez on You’ shirt to every school function that didn’t require wearing a uniform.

You understood how your classmates suddenly began fawning over Hyunjin right after the summer when he got his braces removed and then Seungmin for bringing a suit and tie one time for an inter-school debate but the hype over Jisung suddenly bringing in his guitar to class breaks everyday and re-emerging as a star soccer and baseball player throughout the school year is an absolute mystery to you. That or, maybe compared to your junior high peers, you’re just as used to him at this point than they all are. In your perspective, the only legitimate thing he has going on is how he always seems to beat you in most Arts subjects and how annoying it is that he always makes sure to rub that in your face. 

“I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t shower properly right after training.” You shook your head disapprovingly at Eunha during the game. Soccer is an interesting sport for surprisingly bringing you up to stand and cheer at some moments, you’ll give it that, but watching Jisung get cocky and interact to the crowd whenever his team scored a point was somehow cringe-worthy to watch. “And I’m so sure he still doesn’t clean that soccer ball of his right after practice. You deserve better, sis.”

But no matter how much you talked shit about him throughout the entire game, Eunha still held onto the box of handmade candies she coerced you into picking up from Jisung’s favorite candy shop on the weekend prior and cheering him on with the slogan she made herself. It would’ve looked cute and sweet to you if it was some other guy but it’s Jisung—the guy who pushed you off a swing, pulled your hair, stole candy from you, and made all of your elementary after-school rides home an actual rollercoaster—and you would never wish his treatment of you to any other person ever.

“You said that was in elementary, Y/N.” Eunha chuckled softly, nudging your elbow before a sour expression could completely overtake your face. “Surely he’s outgrown that girls have cooties phase every boy had then.”

“No, it’s Jisung and I refuse to believe it.”

You really didn’t want to believe it with your natural instinct to see Jisung as the bane of your existence. What’s worse is that Eunha was right and Jisung shyly accepted the Saturday movie date at the mall that she came up with on the spot when he surprisingly received the candies well, a complete stretch from the Jisung who would’ve lied about being busy or tricked your friend into doing something else altogether. Suddenly, it was selfishly annoying that you’re the only one he actually tortures the life out of.

“Told you.” Eunha giggled throughout the drive back to your house. Your mother picked you up from school right after the soccer game for a sleepover you insisted was a must whether or not your friend scored her Valentine’s Day date. “Ah, I’m glad he accepted. I was a nervous wreck there! You don’t happen to know what kind of movie he likes, do you?”

You never heard the end of it from her for the remainder of the semester. The two were never official—middle school just didn’t have that solid idea of significant others, then—but they did went on numerous ‘dates’ almost every weekend that followed Valentine’s Day. Naturally, Eunha would tell you all about it. 

“He’s so sweet and caring and thoughtful!” The girl endlessly gushed out to you so genuinely you would’ve been happy had you not been sincerely expecting a major fuck-up from Jisung. Nothing romantic really did come out of these dates, even Jisung surprisingly swears by it, but they did become really close friends after and as Jisung’s only other female friend at the time, you can clearly see a point of comparison between his different treatment of you. “Though, I’m gonna give it to you that he is annoying sometimes but he does know a lot of good places to hang out around town for someone who’s been away for two years!” 

“He does the bare minimum for everything, Eunha. I could barely call it sweet.” You scoffed unamused. 

Age sixteen. In the summer after the tenth grade, an upperclassman from school by the name of Lee Minho started volunteering at the same local shelter you’ve been under since elementary after surrendering a lost cat to you while he and Jisung were playing baseball at the nearby park. 

He adopted Dori in the end but prior to finalizing the adoption papers, he actually made the effort to come in at your MWF schedule to help around and see the dark grey kitten. To you, it was endearing and thoughtful since you didn’t have much active co-workers at the shelter your age but to Jisung, it was slightly inconveniencing how Minho would cut off their play-time to see the cat. He even thought Minho had a crush on you and vice versa but you knew that Minho liked one of his own closer friends. 

“Jeoyeon?” Minho scoffed, crouching down next to you one time as you watched over the new litterbox of kittens eating with Dori on your feet. Crossing his arms over his knees, he shook his head and chuckled, “They’re cool and we’ve been friends for a long time but I’m sure they have a big fat crush on Bang Chan. Something happened after their McDonald’s date after our prom, I’m telling you!” 

“No, not Jeoyeon! I meant Bora!” You argued back with a laugh, picking up a white kitten that wanders off to your feet and lifts its body up cutely for a lift. Gingerly pressing the kitten to your shoulder, you then turned to Minho and continued, “The one who came by the other day to see Dori with you. Aren’t you guys rooming together in college?” 

Minho clutched his chest dramatically at this, shaking his head with a comical conviction. “What?! How could you accuse me of that, Y/N? Bora’s from a different cheerdance team! That would be like sleeping with the enemy!” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking him off of his balance by elbowing his sides. “Ya, I didn’t say that, you did!” You scoffed at him, sighing when he laughs off landing on his butt before sitting up in a crisscross position. “Anyway, don’t you like her?” 

“If I don’t like her, we wouldn’t be making all these plans to move in together for college, stupid.” Minho snickered, earning him another elbow jab from you. “Well, what do you want me to say? You asked me if I like her, you didn’t ask me how exactly I like her.” 

"Okay then, you wise wise person: how do you like Bora?” You sighed dryly, plopping down on the ground at feeling your ankles starting to ache from crouching. The kitten on your arm then jumped down to your lap, circling your legs a few times before finding a comfortable position to sleep in. “You know, the more you visit here with this kind of sarcasm, the more I’m starting to understand where Seungmin and Jisung are suddenly getting all of their newfound sassiness from.” 

Minho chuckled next to you, picking up Dori for himself once he saw him finish eating before hugging the kitten gently to his cheek. “Bora’s...someone I’d probably punch a guy in the team for if they ever disrespect her. I mean, I’d punch a guy for Dahyun, Jeoyeon, and Jihyo, too, of course, but Bora’s in the same sport where she’s always getting lifted in the air and touched by who knows who and now that we won’t be in the same team, I feel even more responsible for keeping an eye out for her.” He shrugged casually, ignoring the way your jaw just dropped at how naturally he explained himself. “Plus, it took a lot of convincing to get her to be my roommate so I can’t really have her dying under my care in the next four years.” 

“I—” You furrowed your brows in thought, pursing your lips in a pout. “Wow, I’m jealous.” 

“Then get on my good side, Y/N.” Minho winked with a laugh, holding Dori in front of you. “Let me take this baby home at the end of the summer.” 

You rolled your eyes again at this, shaking your head. “No, I mean...I hang out with Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung and they aren’t really the most well-versed boys on treating girls properly.” 

“That’s why you hang out with me. We all know that Hyunjin just can’t say no to anyone who offers him a slightly more expensive bouquet of flowers, Seungmin’s in a relationship with baseball and academics, and Jisung...Jisung’s just dumb in general.” Minho then pointed out with a somehow knowing tone, smirking when a familiar figure passes by the hallways right behind you. “Speaking of...” 

Jisung joined you and Minho after, making sure to sit in between the two of you and drowning himself in as many kittens who wanted to sit on his lap as much as he can. “Dude, you shouldn’t have left early!” He scolded Minho with a pout and a slightly breathless tone from running all the way from the park. “Seungmin joined us today and he completely wiped out Sunwoo’s team!” 

“Then even more reasons to come here early so you guys could play with Seungmin on your team.” Minho laughed, gently handing Dori over to you from across Jisung before standing up and dusting the lint off of his jeans. “Y/N needed help with feeding the cats and puppies today, anyway.” 

Jisung frowned, turning to you after and asking, “Don’t you have any other co-workers around here?”

“Jeno has allergies so I don’t let him in here on most days.” You shrugged, handing Minho the empty pet bowls nearest to you as he proceeded to clean and collect them. “I can do it myself, you know. It’s just that Minho comes over and insists.” 

“Then you should’ve just told him that so we can play longer.” 

“Why is it a big deal? Do you like Minho?” 

“Do you?” Jisung’s eyes widened, almost getting scratched by a random cat in the process. “Because...because that’d be gross, to be honest...”

At this moment, your eyes accidentally met Minho’s right behind Jisung and the older boy had the audacity to wink at you before sprinting out of the room with a thumbs up above his head. 

In the end, you shrugged and answered, “I like him.” 

“What?!” Jisung sat up so quickly he almost scared a bunch of kittens walking all over his chest into jumping away.

“I’d be a psychopath if I don’t like him but let him volunteer around here, dumbass.” You deadpanned, moving the kittens around him to a safer space on the floor. “Besides, you asked me if I like him, not how I like him.” 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

Minho had a whole laugh out of eavesdropping from this conversation that he felt bad and actually adjusted his schedule for volunteering and playing soccer better so ‘Jisung would have one less thing to whine about all the time.’ 

Age seventeen. You and Jisung tried convincing your respective parents that going to prom as a group is the more practical and actually trendy thing to do but your mothers wouldn’t have it. Ultimately, the two of you ended up lying that you’re going as each other’s dates. 

You initially planned on begging to Seungmin until he pulled up balloons, roses, and a song number to his lab partner right on the lunch break that you planned on doing it and, of course, you had enough dignity to not fall in line with the countless of students that basically worshipped Hyunjin’s locker as if it were a shrine. 

Jisung, with Eunha already set on going with someone else she started dating at the beginning of the 11th grade school year, was the convenient choice. Your parents knew each other, he knows someone (his older brother) who can drive, and he’s recently gotten over his Emo-Hypebeast wardrobe phase after joining the school’s radio club with Chan and Changbin. With some convincing (read: an elaborate PowerPoint Presentation he made you do on the spot during one of your lunch breaks), the two of you decided that you would take all the photos your respective mothers wanted, carpool to the hotel, then go on your separate ways until his brother picks the two of you up at the end of the night. 

It was a simple and fool-proof plan, one that you almost forgot when you rented an emerald green and gold prom attire then Jisung’s mother told you right after about hearing her son trying to order a purple callalily boutonniere that clearly did not match your taste nor your colors (you sorted this out by cancelling the order and taking matters into your own hands). Then, the most awkward photo op at your house happened. 

“Sungie, put your arm around Y/N!” 

“Y/N, stop slouching, you’re going to wrinkle your outfit!” 

You were never serious-looking in any photos that had Jisung in it as well, preferring to pose like the two of you planned on murdering each other right after the photos instead, but your respective moms were holding your Instax camera and the family film cameras across the living room in this particular situation and so you reluctantly kept it inside. Straightening up your shoulders and elbowing Jisung to at least wrap an arm over your shoulder, you held up smiles right next to your red rose corsage and boutonniere set until the two women were eventually satisfied with their photos. 

“Aah, you two really make a cute couple!”

“Mom, we’re not a couple!” Jisung whined, glaring at you after which you immediately returned with the same expression.

“God, I’d sell all my limbs first before we actually become a couple.” You deadpanned back at him.

Fortunately, Jisung’s older brother allowed the two of you to basically try and throw each other out of the car windows on the thirty-minute ride to the hotel venue in compensation. You almost had him by the neck and he almost ruined your hair that you spent hours curling until Hyunjin pulled you back with a smack to your head and dragged the two of you away to help in the Prom Committee’s final preparations since Jisung was going to perform with Changbin and you were a part of the Prom’s Logistics team. 

You mostly stayed out of each other’s hairs for most of the first part of the program as you were busy pulling everything together while Jisung was having the time of his life with the soccer and basebal teams. The next time you bumped into each other, you scolded him for running late to his and Changbin’s set after dinner. 

“Where were you?!” You mostly hit him in the back with your clipboard, frantically passing him his already set up electric guitar and a microphone. First, one of your peers got drunk too early in the dinner to help out in the program, then one of the event’s award sashes briefly went missing and, not to mention, a lot of the people from the other committees somehow forgot about their event tasks when you asked in the main groupchat. You really weren’t having anyone’s antics at this point. “Geez, we already practiced this!” 

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Why are you so on edge?” Appropriately, he whined in complaint and took a step back after receiving his equipment, holding his hands up in defense as he always does. “Cut me some slack, Y/N! It’s prom!” 

“You’re so late when your table is literally right next to the side of the stage!” 

“I was dancing with everyone else! You wouldn’t know since you wouldn’t even take a break!” 

“Because I’m busy!” 

“No, you’re just being more irritable than usual!” 

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.” You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, coldly directing him to the stage. “You’re on, get on the stage.” 

You knew he didn’t mean it cruelly, especially when his pupils started to shake and his shoulders instinctively slumped as he glanced back at you right before reluctantly stepping up the star-filled stage, but you were too tired of having to run around and making the event perfect for most of the night to process anything, much less his usual jabs at you. Being in such a tired headspace, you couldn’t enjoy his songs no matter how undeniably great they were, much less meet his eyes when you knew how he kept glancing at you throughout the entire set. 

He even covered your favorite song on the spot (which surprised Changbin and had Hyunjin running around backstage to inform everyone of the sudden extension) but you already sat down on your shared table with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Eunha, and their dates before he could even begin singing the chorus.  

“Hey, you good?” Minjung, Eunha’s date, asked you with an offering of an extra shawl to cover your exposed shoulders from the nearby air-conditioning unit. Eunha had previously left to go to the bathroom after stopping by your shared table. “Y/N, I told you if you needed extra help with the program, you could’ve just told us. We just planned on dancing tonight, anyway.” 

“I’m good.” You grumbled in a half-lie, resting your chin on your propped up hand tiredly, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ for the shawl as you fought away your tiredness. “I think I’ll just sit the rest of Prom out. Hyunjin can run the program on his own.” 

Minjung frowned, sitting down next to you and fixing the loose strands on the haphazard ponytail you managed to pull up in the middle of the program. “Are you sure? Eunha and I can stay with you until you’re feeling better. Besides, the program’s still long, you deserve to enjoy your hard work later at least.” 

Stubbornly, you simply scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “I think I’ve had enough of prom for one night. You should go and dance more, though. I’m okay as long as you guys are having fun.” 

But equally as headstrong as you are, Minjung got Eunha in on convincing you to agreeing to one dance with them as soon as she came back from the bathroom, reasoning out that, “We can stay in the back and just dance silly! It’s prom!” 

The pair proved themselves to be unstoppable in their joint persuasiveness when they got you to stand up and actually join them at the next set, right as Jisung was about to approach you to apologize. The poor boy ended up waiting the entire night until the two of you were alone instead, shivering right next to each other at the lobby while waiting for his brother to pick you two up. 

“Why did you even pick out something off-shoulder? I get that it’s trendy these days but you picked the venue knowing it’s cold and didn’t even connect a few dots there.” He hissed lowly, contemplating on teasing you further or keeping it quiet until he can muster up a ‘sorry’ to you. Shrugging off his jacket, he then gently draped it over your shoulder and added, “Don’t catch a cold or something...your mom’s going to kill me.” 

“Shut up.” You hissed back, crossing your arms further in over your chest as you spotted his brother’s car approaching the lobby’s driveway. You didn’t remove his coat from your back, though, clutching it tightly instead while convincing yourself that he willingly gave it to you so there’s no reason for you to throw it back at him when you really needed it. “ You don’t even do nice things for me.”

The familiar words visibly caught him off-guard, almost foiling his plan of opening the door for you as he freezes in his steps but he regains composure in time and almost trips ahead to swat your hand away from the car’s door handle. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled in the awkward silence, gulping down his fears of your death glare as he briefly averted his gaze away from you. With this, he missed the way your gaze softened. “There’s candies in the pockets.”

And there was, coincidentally enough the same brand he tried stealing from you on your school field trip.

“These aren’t expired, right?” You chuckled, popping a chocolate in your mouth anyway. 

That was enough for Jisung to relax his shoulders and laugh along. “No, promise.” He held a hand up as if he was swearing by his words, easing you into another fit of laughs. “I ran all the way to the convenience store down the block to get you those tonight! I felt really bad...I didn’t mean it.”

He could be sweet if he wanted, you’d give him that. 

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered to him at the end of the night, right after scoffing at him for insisting to walk you all the way to your doorstep of course. “I was so stressed with managing everything that I took it out on you.” 

Standing awkwardly with you right in front of your house’s front door, the sheepish boy rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “Nah, I think I deserve it. I do annoy you a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled, eyes trained to the ground. “I didn’t even ask you to one dance.” 

“Not like you actually had to, we’re no—” 

“But you were still technically my date and I don’t want to be a bad prom date, even to you!” He insisted anyway, only then looking up at you. “I’ll make it up to you in the distant future, okay? Reserve me your next dance in the distant future, no matter where it is!”  

Before you could even retort, he was already running back to his brother’s car. 

Age eighteen and a half. Jisung began dating a girl named Haneul whom he met in one of his general classes and didn’t have one single clue about baseball or soccer. Naturally, his entire friend group was concerned. 

Though you’re much civil friends now, you still didn’t really care. Or maybe you didn’t want to out of spite (or a really really weird and displaced feeling of jealousy?), you weren’t sure. You just thought that Jisung can do whatever he wants even when it’s something that’s generally not advisable when you’re a freshman in college, but it seemed as if it was all Jeongin talked to you about whenever the two of you met up to study for one of your shared classes so naturally you forced yourself to take in all of the gossip. What’s worse is that Hyunjin would come over often to loiter around the library and gawk at the cute student librarian, ultimately encouraging the younger boy to talk about it more. 

“You’re being unfair to her.” You always reminded the two, sometimes Seungmin when he would sit quietly in the middle of the topic and say nothing to defend Haneul. In this particular time, Jeongin took you to watch the baseball team’s Wednesday scrimmage after hours of studying your nursing notes together at the nearby library. “Like, look, I don’t even do any sports myself but you guys hang out with me.” 

“But you’re different, you’re not dating any one of us.” Hyunjin snickered, hugging his helmet to his chest as he sat a step below you on the bleaches. When a thought then crossed his mind, he dramatically gasped over his gloves and added, “Wait, does that mean you have a crush on someone? Is it me?” 

You smacked him in the head with your hand, rolling your eyes after. “You know what I mean.” 

Next to you, Jeongin mustered up a shrug as he tried getting an injured Kira to sit back down on her seat. Your stubborn best friend, after playing at an underground derby game on the weekend prior, kept on moving around because sitting down with her injuries made her uncomfortable. “But at least you make an effort for us even if it’s just small.” He reasoned out, huffing tiredly when Kira finally sits down and promises not to move for the next five minutes. You would’ve helped him but personally you thought he deserved to suffer alone after letting her go out despite her injuries today. “Haneul got dragged by Jisung to watch last week’s scrimmage and didn’t even last a set. She just left in the middle of the game—literally!”

“He made Jisung skip on my derby game to too!” Kira pouted, waving her bandaged hands frantically in the air. “I’m personally offended, Y/N!”

“And she doesn’t seem to like talking to us in general.” Hyunjin shrugged in conclusion. “Like, sports aside, she’s a bit rude and nonchalant when she talks to us in general especially when Sung isn’t around. It’s a bit sus to me.” 

“To be fair, Kira, I wouldn’t be going too if you and Yeji aren’t so insistent on it. It’s so worrying seeing the two of you get hurt.” You pointed out before averting your attention to Jeongin once more. “And Jeongin, you know the only reason I can’t leave baseball and soccer games these days is because you and Seungmin are usually my ride home.” You scoffed. “If I could, I’d be hanging out with Felix more and only going to Kira’s games. Ya, why is he even allowed to skip games and I’m not, anyway?”

“Because he’s taking classes and training with the cheerdance squad until 8 PM and as far as I’m concerned, you’re free after 12 noon like me!” Jeongin simply grinned at you, earning himself a glare. “Also, I need you here with me as the medic team. You know I’ll panic alone!” 

Fortunately, no one ever actually gets injured at any of the games regardless if they were formal or not. By the time the game has finished, you were reminding Kira to rest more at her dorms and sprinting out of the baseball field to the samgyeopsal place the team promised to treating dinner at. You completely missed the boys’ conversation on Haneul in the process but you did get free food.

You really didn’t get it. The one time you met Haneul by chance, when you and Felix bumped into the two at the mall near the supermarket, she seemed a bit distant but she could be polite when she wanted to. Of course, it rubbed you the wrong way but you and Felix thought that it was none of your business anyway, given that neither of you are dating her. 

“When the guys walked me out of the baseball field last Wednesday, they did mention something about Jisung aiming for the soccer national team but who knows if they’re exaggerating again or something.” Kira confided in you later that week when the two of you met up over lunch. “Either way, I’d understand. If I were in Jisung’s shoes, I’d feel a little disheartened if someone I really like doesn’t appreciate the things I’m passionate about!”

Still, you simply let your friends sort it out for themselves. “Jisung’s a grown-up, he can figure things out on his own at the end of the day.” You reasoned out. 

Age eighteen and three-fourths. Jisung asked—practically begged—you to go to the movies with him because he and Haneul broke up the week before his birthday after opening up his worries to her. The other ticket was meant to be a surprise for his ex-girlfriend.

From what Jeongin and Felix have gossiped to you on two separate occasions, Haneul apparently didn’t like you and the rest of Jisung’s immediate friend group no matter how many times the boys tried warming up to her and getting to know her over the summer. She didn’t really support Jisung’s passion for sports, too, and mostly just stuck around for the ‘clout of it all’ or however Felix worded it to you. 

“I’d ask Hyunjin but he has a date with that librarian!” Jisung frowned over the phone on the night before the scheduled screening of Weathering with You. Reminiscent of a similar time long ago, he sounded more like he was convincing himself than you. “And Seungmin’s taking care of Kira, Minho and Felix are training, Changbin’s doing God knows what with his finals, Chan has swim training and—and yeah, you know where I’m going with this!” 

You sighed, rolling over on your back in your bed after submitting your online work. “You can ask the baseball team, the soccer team, your Introduction to Musical Theory class, the campus radio club, and—and yeah, you also know where I’m going with this.” 

“Yeah but—but it’d be weird if I just went with anyone or something!” He mumbled under his breath, pausing on the other line to scratch his head in thought. “Come on, it’s not your midterms week yet, right? Can’t you come over and go to the movies with me?”

“You’ll probably strangle me in the dark or something.” You argued next. 

“But it’s free tickets! At least you’re going to die with free tickets!” 

“So you are planning to kill me! I knew it!” You snorted dryly, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have anyone else to go with? Why me?” 

Jisung took in a sharp breath in the longest pause you’ve ever heard from the usually rowdy boy. At that moment, only then did you notice the faint sounds of pre-recorded dialogues for soccer arcade games. He must’ve been at the one near his dorm then as he usually was when he was contemplating on something. ��I just—honestly, I’m still processing all of this and I don’t want to open up to the guys...and Eunha’s abroad and I’m not that close to Kira or Bora so I thought of you.” 

Now, it was your turn to be speechless. 

“It’s silly, I know.” Jisung continued with an awkward laugh when he didn’t hear anything on your end. “But even when you’re annoying sometimes and you always get angry at me because you always misunderstand, you’ve known me the longest and I know you listen well and you’re always open-minded about things so I thought I’d vent to you, if it’s okay...” 

You finally released a defeated sigh, sitting up properly on your bed as if he was actually in the same room as you. “God, you’re too good at making me feel guilty.” You mused out loud. “Fine, just text me the place and time and no funny business!” 

You met up with Jisung at the nearest shopping center the following night, surprise paper bags of take-out and a mini cake for two to eat at the cinema. 

“I’m only going to be nice to you this time because you just got dumped and it’s your birthday later.” You explained as serious as you can to a giggling and blushing Jisung, handing him the take-out paper bags. Once the dinner meals are in his hands, you then take out the blueberry mini cheesecake from its separate paper bag and set up the candle you brought along with it. “Now, make a wish and get it over with.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened at the pink candle suddenly being pushed up to his face, distracting him from the passersby cooing and making comments at the two of you. “Really?” 

You nodded impatiently, thrusting the cake further up his face. “Yes! Now, blow on your candles or I’ll do it myself and eat the whole thing!” 

Jisung wasted no time blowing the single candle and taking the cake from you as well, jumping up and down in place as he closed the lid carefully and returned it to its paper bag. “Thank you!” He exclaimed gleefully, pulling you to a side hug. “Now, I feel a bit better.” 

“You better.” You frowned back at him, biting down a small smile when his hug lingered on a second longer. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late to the screening.” 

Fortunately, Jisung didn’t actually tried strangling you in the dark while the movie played since he became busy with eating his dinner and cake as well as crying over the plot. 

Age nineteen. Jisung took you to the arcade inside the shopping center after to vent while scoring kicks at the mini soccer game. 

“Basically, she said—” Score. “—that she felt annoyed that Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin were mostly onto her for ‘seeming off’ whenever they met or interacted.” Another score. Standing outside the protective fence, your gaze darted quickly between Jisung and the small net across the long room. “So I said that’s just how those guys are: they’re very curious of new people and make a lot of effort over it so when they feel that the other person’s energy seems off or doesn’t match theirs in any way, they’d worry.”

You nodded along whenever he glanced over to you, agreeing halfheartedly. “Hm, those guys don’t take bullshit, of course...”

“Yeah, right...” Jisung kicked another ball, barely missing the goal as he thinks of what to say next. “Then she started accusing the guys that they don’t like her because she doesn’t do sports which doesn’t even make sense because I know it’s not superficial like that.” He sighed, scoring again. After this particular kick, he then stopped altogether and turned to you. “The guys just feel off that, as someone I’m dating, she doesn’t make enough effort to watch my games or be familiar with the sports I love. It’s not the same thing.”  

“But does she make an effort to listen to your music?” You blurted out of nowhere, surprising not only Jisung but also yourself. 

It just occurred you to on the spot. All this talk about Jisung’s passion for sports had you thinking if Haneul also disliked the one other thing that Jisung was absolutely passionate about: his music. 

And it seemed to have caught him off-guard as it took the boy longer to contemplate on the question. “I—n-no? No...” He furrowed his brows in thought, walking over to you on his side of the chain link fence. “Come to think of it, she never told me what she thought of the songs I used to send her for feedback...”

You nodded, mumbling under your breath, “So much for defending her from everyone last summer...” 

“Hm?” 

“Like, I’d get it if your friends don’t immediately warm up to her because that really does happen in some relationships and it can be remedied over time but not appreciating the things you, the person she’s dating, are passionate about is another thing. If she doesn’t like the things you’re passionate about, then maybe she really isn’t the one you should be with.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “She could be all things nice but if she doesn’t support your own ambitions, other things that make you really happy, then everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

When he doesn’t speak, you allow yourself to continue. “Kira told me that you’re aiming for the national team in either baseball or soccer which is a bit surprising since I know you’re already being sought after for your music even at university so clearly those things are very important to you. Having someone around that doesn’t see that importance enough to make efforts is a bit meaningless in the long run, if you think about it. You...you deserve better, it’s what I’m trying to get at.” 

Still, he wouldn’t speak after everything you said. Instead, the boy just gaped at you from the fence. It definitely unnerved you as time dragged on longer. 

“I let you vent and made my own input on it like you wanted me here to and you just gape?” You tsked through your nervousness, crossing your arms teasingly and leaning over the fence on your side. “Ji, say something.” 

“...thank you.” He finally breathed out before you could complain further, catching you off-guard this time. “I needed that.” 

“What?” 

“This whole thing just made me feel really conflicting feelings.” He confessed, voice lower than usual now as he mirrored your position. “Thank you for listening and telling me what you thought. They definitely made a lot of things clearer.” 

You smiled, shoving him slightly through the fence separating the two of you. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it birthday boy?” You teased, laughing even more when he pouted at your teasing tone. “So? Feel better, then?” 

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, grinning widely now. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.” 

“You won’t admit it to my face but I know you’d do the same for me if I annoyed you into it enough.” You shrugged, standing up properly now and walking over to the entrance. “Now, would you let me play? You’ve been at it for twenty minutes, it’s getting tiring watching you.” 

He laughed at this as you joined him in the arcade space, kicking a soccer ball towards you as soon as you came in through the chain entrance. “What? You think you can do better?” 

“I had to watch you all the time after school back then because you were my ride home and Mrs. Han always picked us up late. I’m sure that could amount to something.” 

Age nineteen and a half. For a mandatory community service class, all of your friends signed up to volunteer at an orphanage. 

The majority vote was actually at the shelter you used to volunteer at but your old neighbourhood was too far from the university you were attending and so the most practical option, the orphanage just two blocks away, was the natural next best thing. And from this one semester’s worth of experience, you definitely learned a lot about your friends. 

For one, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were only popular with kids but only for their looks (additionally, his baking skills for Felix). Whenever you passed by them during volunteer hours, you would often find the three buried underneath a pile of toddlers hitting them with all kinds of toys. Feeling bad, you actually got the orphanage’s matron to assign them to the older kids after a while. 

Seungmin and Kira, on the other hand, were so awkward at first but naturally got into the groove of it. Maybe it’s because they only started dating then and everything was flustering but they surprised you the most with how much they got along with almost all of the kids regardless of age. 

Then, there was Jisung whom almost all of the younger kids practically fought over to play with at the playground. As if it was an inside joke of some sort, it made you laugh the most how the kids would often ask him to push them at the swings. 

“Careful now,” You reminded him once jokingly, elbowing his side as the two of you approached the swing set where the kids were already waiting to get pushed on their respective seats. “don’t want their knees to get scraped or something.”

He simply scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I won’t let that happen, not at this age.” 

“So if I asked you to push me on the swings later, you won’t try and kill me this time?” You asked next, waving hello to the children before going around the swing set to gently push them to momentum. Jisung followed suit, making a beeline to his favorite, a toddler named Ara who always asked to be pushed higher on the swings. 

“That’s a trick question because we’re not actually allowed to play here.” He answered matter-of-factly, turning to Ara right after. “Isn’t that right, Ara? Y/N isn’t allowed to play here because she’s an adult, right?” 

The two of you would sit on the swing set and take turns pushing each other when the orphanage staff weren’t looking anyway, giggling amongst yourselves while watching the kids migrate to the jungle gym. 

“You were so annoying when we were kids!” You mostly complained, letting yourself laugh about it now as it was all in the distant past. “You had the ‘girls had cooties’ phase and everything.” 

“Because the boys all said it was true!” Jisung was quick to say in his defense, twisting the chains on his swing around to make himself spin. “And I was seven so of course I’d believe them that easily!��� 

“What about when you pushed me from the swings?” 

“We both know that was an accident.” 

“You could’ve secretly held a grudge against me as early as that time! You were so mad when your mom made you buy me snacks!” 

“Because you told your mom that I did it on purpose! I thought you hated me even before that too.” 

“Well, I never hated you before that, just to set the record straight.” You shook your head immediately, turning your swings to the side to face him briefly. “You? Did you ever hate me?”

“Never.” He shook his head back at you in response, equally serious now. “You were annoying at times but that was because I was kinda annoying to you too.”

“What about now?” You asked next, voice unexpectedly wavering at asking such a question and even more when he chuckled at this. 

“You were with me on my what was almost my worst birthday ever just three months ago. What do you think?” He scoffed playfully, returning to his spinning to ease his flustered face. “Besides, we’re like better less-trying to kill each other all the time friends now! We’re even studying together again these days.” 

“We both know you’re only at the library since you’ve been trying to wingman Hyunjin with the librarian and dote on Jeongin like he’s your baby.” 

“What? No, I’m there for you too! Moral support!” 

Age nineteen and three-fourths. Jisung’s older brother invited you along with your parents to his wedding during the Spring break and Jisung immediately jumped on the chance to redeem himself as ‘the best dance partner you ever had.’ 

You didn’t even think he’d remember something he said himself back then. Personally, you thought it was just his guilt from pissing you off or sleepiness from dancing too much at prom that was talking then. But the moment the dance floor was opened at the rather extravagant cherry blossoms-themed wedding, the best man was by your side within seconds after sprinting from his table across the wedding hall. 

“Y/N!” He called to you as he ran to your table shared with all of your friends, your parents, and a few people from your childhood neighbourhood; his obnoxiously loud voice against the jazz music and his hand raised up above his head to wave at you catching a few guests’ attention. “Y/N!” 

Felix was about to ask you to dance after Seungmin and Kira as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin paired up, your hand already up in the air to accept his, but Jisung was quick to swat your hand away from the other boy as soon as he arrived. “Sorry, Lix, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N away!” He dramatically interrupted in between tired pants, flashing the confused Felix with a sheepish grin. “I owe Y/N a very important dance!” 

“What dance?” You raised a brow, bringing your hand away from his and back to your lap. 

“The one—t-the one I promised you that night a-at prom.” He sighed, finally catching his breath after. “I promised you then, remember?” 

From the corner of your eye, Felix’s eyes lightened up in excitement as he clasped his hands together and cooed. “Aww!” He giggled, making you and Jisung turn to him after. “If that’s the case, then why should I stop you two? I’ll just see if Chan or Changbin aren’t dancing yet!” 

“But Lix!” 

The other boy’s quick to wave his hands to you snappily, shaking his head. “No buts, Y/N! You two go and do that cute promised dance thing you have going on! I’ll be fine!” He assured, much to your protests. “I knew something was going on!” 

“Nothing’s going o—“

“Thanks, Lix! I owe you, dude.” Jisung pats Felix’s shoulder appreciatively, turning to you after and taking your hand once more to pull you up into a stand. “Now, come on! My brother said he has my songs on queue!” 

He whisked you away before you could protest further, taking you to the dance floor just as the music slows down to his own song. “Right on time!” He even exclaimed happily before placing his other hand on your waist. You’ve heard this one before as the one he would always sing at the Open Mic Nights at university. “Now, to make it up to you...” 

Jisung didn’t dance so bad. He was still playful, making it a game between the two of you on who can step on the other’s feet the most when the next songs became more upbeat, but he was serious when he wanted to, sheepishly apologizing that it took him long to make it up to you. 

“I didn’t even remember it until you brought it up tonight.” You assured with a laugh as the song slowed down once more. Without even realizing it, you’ve danced all of the songs in the two-hour setlist with him. “I didn’t think it was important.” 

“Well, it is to me.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he can, visibly looking nervous towards the end. When you quietly asked him why, his only response was, “Because that night I really realized that even when I liked annoying you, I don’t like pissing you off so much to the point that you hate me.” 

And at that moment you realized that Jisung has some way of catching you off-guard so randomly. “W-What? I mean—” You wanted to joke something along the lines of ‘wow, took you long enough,’ but the words ultimately never came out as Jisung chuckled at your baffled expression. 

“I mean, trying to piss each other off, joking around, competing over studies—those are our things.” He confessed sincerely, unconsciously tightening his grip on your hand as the song progressed. “But I said something that night thinking of it as a joke and not really considering the thought that it would piss you off so much because you were so stressed already. I didn’t like pushing you on edge like that—” 

“You already apologized and everything, it’s all g—” 

“—But most importantly, I really wanted to dance with you then, regardless of the incident.” He breathed out before you could even finish your thought, rendering you speechless for the second time. “Maybe I’ve always liked you then, maybe even before that; either way, I really wanted to have one moment where we weren’t fighting or anything—and, surprisingly, even when we’ve started hanging out better, I still want one. I still like you.” 

You immediately stopped dancing, bumping shoulders with a stranger behind you which Jisung instinctively responded to by pulling your frozen form to the side of the dance floor. You pursed your lips once to speak, only managing to fumble out, “Y-You...you liked me?” 

“I said I like you. Present tense.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides immediately at sensing how tense and awkward the atmosphere suddenly became. “And I like you the way Seungmin dotes on Kira and Minho’s always protective of Bora and Jeoyeon’s been helplessly pining over Chan, those kinds in case you’re going to pull that how exactly do I like you bullshit you learned from Minho before again.”  

“I—r-really?” Was your only response as you tried your best to process this revelation. “You like me? W-Why—why me?” 

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yes, Y/N, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” He teased as casually as he could muster with his growing nervousness. “And why you? I don’t know, either, but I think I can start remembering as far back as the time you teased me at the playground that I push like a sissy but didn’t look for another playmate anyway. I’ve always liked you...just a little bit more now that I’m much more sure of a lot of things.” 

It was all so overwhelming, honestly, but you belatedly muster up a laugh as he recalled such a distant memory from you. “Y-You...God, Han Jisung, you’re insufferable!” You mumbled under your breath, hitting him by his arm with one hand while the other covered your mouth. “Why didn’t you say so?” 

“So, does that mean you like me too?” 

“I let you dance with me the entire night. What do you think?” You scoffed playfully, gaze softening as you looked up at his relieved smile and bright eyes. “You did push like a sissy at the playground when we were kids, though.” 

Age twenty. When Minho bought his roommate flowers to their last cheerdance competition and asked her to be his girlfriend, Hyunjin dared you to one-up the upperclassman and wear Jisung’s jersey to his own final game of the year.

“Well, you did give him that talk over dating someone who appreciates the things he loves.” Eunha told you over video call with the rest of your friend group on the day Hyunjin brought up the idea. Before you could even protest and repeatedly assure that you do support everything Jisung does, she was quick to add, “Yeah, I know you do appreciate them but I just think it’s fitting now! He’s been making a lot of effort for you lately and didn’t you say you wanted to do something in return? Maybe you can finally ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask for a while now too...” 

You hated how she was right and very convincing about it. Since the wedding earlier in the year, Jisung has been nothing short of nicer to you. From actually hanging out with you at the library now (and not just to wingman Hyunjin or dote on Jeongin), buying you food randomly, to letting you vent your own worries and unwind from school by playing soccer with you or playing you music with his guitar, he’s been ‘making it up to you’ with quality time and sweet gestures; the only catch is that he hasn’t officially asked you out like he would. 

The two of you aren’t exactly the direct words type of people but it’s still nice to have some sort of affirmation. 

With a few more coaxing on her part combined with Seungmin’s own persuasiveness nagging at you in real time, your friends eventually got Jeongin to steal one of Jisung’s spare soccer jerseys later that day to give to you for his game on the following Saturday. 

To say that Jisung was flustered is an understatement to say the least. Quickly catching you at the very front of the bleachers before the game started, he waved at you and the rest of your cheering friend group shyly, approaching only when the coach gave him permission to. 

“Hey, that’s mine.” He snickered with even more sheepishness at seeing you up close, holding the jersey he wears by its shoulders before gesturing to the identical one you wear. The two of you stand by the stairs leading down to the field, on the side where you aren’t in the way of passing players and staff. “The jersey—maybe the one wearing it too.” 

You held up the bouquet of daisies in your hands close to your face, effectively hiding the heat rising up to your neck. “I bought your favorite flowers too.” You pointed out next before gesturing to your friends sitting around you. “Those smartasses dared me to outdo Minho’s stunt at the cheerdance competition which I still think is dumb since you were in on that one but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?” 

“Just seeing you is already enough.” He added with a flirty wink, making you cringe teasingly. “The jersey’s a really big bonus, though. I think I can score everything on this one because of you.” 

“You better or else this jerseys’ going to be mine now.” 

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head immediately, pulling you closer by the waist in his now ritual good luck hug from you and placing the flowers back on your sides. “I don’t mind calling you mine too.” 

The cheesy pick-up line makes the two of you laugh. Either way, you push yourself to not let go of him too soon. “...ew, Jisung!” You hit his back instead, heaving a sigh of relief anyway before finally pulling away from his hug to send him off. That’s enough confirmation now. “Now, go win this game and get it over with. We’re still on for movies later, right?” 

“Yep.” He assured, patting your head affectionately before boldly leaning closer again for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to it!” 

[walking-mf-dead]

Fem! SS and Nick

SS is helping Nick with a case he is working on (Maybe a missing persons)

They are very close "friends"

𝓜𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂 Pairing: Fem!Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine Word Count: 1167 Warnings: Kidnapping, missing persons case, mentions of blood and yelling, hints towards physical violence, non-canon case A/N: This is my first time writing anything for the Fallout universe and I hope it's good enough :') (the divider I'm using is one with the Vault-tec symbol and I just took the png from google and duplicated it in paint lmao you're free to use if you wish)

“Y/N, how do you know this lead is any good?” Nick questions. We’ve been on a missing persons case for a week now and we hit a dead end until one of my sources from the wasteland gave me insight on what could be happening. “I told you Nick, just trust me on this and we’ll get the woman back to her family, okay?” I stop for a moment and place my hand on his shoulder, “We’ll find her Nicky.” He sighs and nods, giving me a gentle smile before we keep heading to the building that stands before us.

The building is dilapidated, falling apart even as we walk through the broken glass of the door, the stench of rotting and fresh meat and blood invades my senses. This lead may be more dangerous than I anticipated. I pull out my Plasma Rifle and start to survey the area, Nick following my lead and drawing his Western Revolver. “Now Doll, I do trust you, don’t get me wrong, but did you just lead us to a nest of Super Mutants?” pipes up my partner in a hushed voice, “Well, Nicky, I didn’t really think this is what my contact had in mind for where the girl might be.” I reply through gritted teeth, not wanting to risk being loud and being spotted.

•

We spend a good hour surveying the area, taking down about 5 of the brutes before we find the group, the boss sitting upon a meat throne, his followers around him snacking on food, and the woman. She’s up in a cage, bleeding but not so much that she’s anywhere close to dying. For now. “And what do we have here? More puny humans for me? Gutsoul deserves more blood.” Booms the loud voice of the mutant, oddly well spoken for someone of his type. No wonder he’s the leader I suppose. “We’re just here to get the woman ‘Gutsoul’. We get the girl, and we won’t kill you. Simple.” I say, standing my ground on the subject. Nick is close behind me, a hand hovering on the small of my back, still holding his revolver in the other, leaning down slightly to whisper in my ear, “Doll, it’s not smart to rile up a mutant, you know that right?”, “Nicky, honey, I know what I’m doing.” I retort, waiting for the mutant to respond. “Graag, grab the woman human. She’s annoying me.” Orders Gutsoul, the larger Mutant charges over to me and grabs my arms, locking them behind my body as I squirm and try to worm my way out of the grapple. Nick raises his revolver to shoot before I shake head “No” at him, needing to stay away from this fight. I won’t let him get hurt.

•

It’s been a day, maybe two since 2 of the mutants took me, leaving Nick Valentine, the best detective of the Commonwealth, to bargain with the brutes. It hasn’t been fun to say the least. While alone I think about him the most. He’s always been there for me, helped me, and the look in those yellow eyes two days ago when I was grabbed, the worry and desperation to get me back made me blush. He treats me well. He’s one of the closest people in my life at the moment, which is hard to come by in a post-apocalyptic world like this. “Food for human lady.” Says one of the two towards me, throwing a piece of stale bread towards me. Hey, it's better than irradiated mudcrab meat. Biting off the tough pieces of bread I look around the cage I’m in, trying to find an exit, a broken pipe I can use to attack the two before me. They look like the weakest, it’s why they’re stationed here to look after me.

I’m still trying to find a way out before I hear yelling and gunfire. The two watching me go to see the situation. Dammit Nick. “You get out, run back to Diamond City!” I hear the Synth yell. Probably towards that woman. What the fuck did he do? “Doll! Doll!? Where are you?” A small, sad smile appears on my face. “I’m here Nicky! I’m stuck in this stupid cage, they took all my shit.” And they had, I was only in my singlet and underwear when Nick came to help me. “Fuck Doll. That’s one shiner.” He points to my face before starting to lockpick the cage open. He hugs me once the door is open. He’s warm. He puts his coat over my shoulders before we go to find my things. He’s rushing around. Frantic almost. “Hey Nicky, Nick, slow down.” I say softly, reaching my hand out towards his shoulder, his white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned down the front, his slacks have blood on them and his hat is slightly shifted on his head. “Doll, I coulda lost ya. If I weren’t fast enough I coulda…” He trails off. “Hey, hey, I survived a nuclear blast, albeit in a bunker and frozen but, if I could survive that, I’ll survive anything. I’ll always come back to you.” He hugs me again. So, so tightly. Almost too tightly, this synth is stronger than he thinks. “Don’t you ever leave again Y/N.” He looks into my eyes and I can’t help but smile. This man is too good for anyone.

•

Once we arrived back at Diamond City, the young woman was there at Nick’s detective agency, thanking him profusely for his help in saving her. I smirk watching the scene unfold and start looking at files of other cases we could take after a small break. “And I was wondering, Detective, if we could go on a date, I’ll show you a good time, for all the help you gave me.” the woman says to him, very seductively. You wouldn’t have thought she spent almost 2 weeks with super mutants. She plays with the collar of his coat before he says, very flustered, “Oh uh, that’s sweet of ya Dollface but I don’t date previous clients. Just how I do the job.” I giggle to myself, listening to him. That’s a lie, I think so myself. She tries again with her advances before I finally save him from the awkward encounter. “Hey Nicky, what about this case? Missing daughter, she’s only 12. We should get a start on it soon.” I yell towards him, still looking at the file. It’s empty, but the woman doesn’t know that. “Alright Doll, I’m coming. You’re welcome for the help kid.” He then walks towards me and the woman leaves with almost a huff. Nick places a hand on the small of my back and I rest my head back onto his shoulder. “You still got it Nicky, get any pretty lady on your case.” I smirk, looking up towards him. “I’ve already got the best lady.” He replies before placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

Hey dude! Thank you for requesting something T-T I hope I did okay and that you like it! Let me know if there are any mistakes in it at all and I'll fix it up <3 Enjoy!!

[skycollides]

How about one with angel where you play a prank on him so whenever he tries to give you a kiss you kind of move away. Imagine depriving him of HIS kisses we know he’s dramatic so at one point in the day he kind of pins you down on the couch and just peppers your face with kisses. I feel like at first he would find it weird but ignore it and when it happens again he gets likes this. LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!!

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy it.

No Kisses

Angel x Reader

Authors note: I apologize in advance for grammar mistakes

English isn’t my native language.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

Warning: none

Words: 1.577

You were bored out of your mind the whole day so you came up with an idea. Since Angel loves pranking you - you decided to get back at him as soon as he returns from the clubhouse. He left earlier this morning because Bishop called them in. 

You are currently standing in the kitchen making you some tea when you hear the front for open. Soon after Angel calls out for you. 

Let the games begin you think and smirk.

’’Kitchen’’ you reply and he follows your voice.

’’Hey Baby I’m back now. Have the rest of the day off’’ he lets you know and tries to kiss you but you turn around because the water in the kettle is now boiling.

’’Well that’s good. You’ve been gone quite often those past couple of weeks. I’m glad you now have a bit of time to recover.’’ you say while preparing your tea.

’’Do you want one too’’ you ask him still not looking at him.

’’No thanks. I’m going to take a shower now.’’ Right now it’s the first time you turn around to look at him. You watch him as he leaves and take your cup of tea before heading out to the backyard with the new book Ez gave to you the week before. You’re deep in your book and don’t really notice Angel coming out. He sits down next to you and tries to kiss you - again but you turn your head away.

’’Don’t Angel. You’ll ruin my lipgloss I just put it on.’’ you say continuing to read your book. He sits next to you for a while but you pay no attention to him. He gets up and leaves and you let out a sigh of relieve. You actually do love his kisses and its gets harder and harder each time to decline him but you’ve got a plan to carry on.

It’s around 6pm now and you’re still sitting outside reading your book when Angel makes his appearance.

’’Baby?’’ he tries to get your attention.

’’Yes?’’ you say still looking at your book.

’’Are you going to prepare dinner or do you want me to order something?’’

’’I don’t really feel like cooking today to be honest.’’ you say and look up to him for the first time.

’’Italian or Chinese?’’

’’Italian.’’ you say and close your book before getting up.

’’I’ll take the usual. Thanks Angel.’’ you say and move past him after patting his shoulder. You see that the gets more and more confused with you behavior. Normally when he was as often away as he was those past couple of weeks you’re practically seeking his attention. You’re all about his kisses and hugs. Some people would call it clingy but for him you’re just his little koala who need some love.

While Angel is ordering the food you decide to go to the bedroom to look for more comfortable clothes than you’re wearing now. As soon as you open up your wardrobe you see you favorite pair of sweatpants. You take those and one of Angels hoodies. It literally looks like a dress when you’re wearing it but you simply love it. As soon as you’re dressed you go to the living room where Angel is sitting watching TV. You sit down on the other side of the sofa.

’’You okay?’’ Angel asks you.

’’Yes why wouldn’t I be?’’ you ask him acting all confused.

’’Just wanted to make sure you’re okay’’ he answers you and looks back at the TV again. Shortly after he speaks up again.

’’Why are you so far away from me? Did I do something?’’ he asks and gives you his famous puppy eyes. 

’’No not at all.’’ you say and you know it’s not going to be easy now.

This is actually the moment you feared the most since you came up with your plan.

Those puny eyes make you weak. He likely can get anything from you when he looks at you like that. You simply can’t resist him. So you move closer to him but still keeping a little distance between the two of you.

’’Babe come on I’m nit going to bite you’’ he say and laughs.

’’Who knows you haven’t eaten since this morning might be dangerous for me to be so close to you.’’ before he can say anything else you’re saved by the door bell.

Angel gets up and opens the door. You take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves before getting up to get knives and forks for the two of you. Once you return Angel is waiting for you with the food. You sit down again and thank him for the food. Still not a kiss. Usually when he buys something for you always thank him with a loving kiss and a hug but since you need to keep your plan going you don’t do it this time. It takes everything not to kiss or hug him. You start to eat and feels his eyes still on you but you keep looking at your food. After you and Angel are done eating you want to get up to clean up the coffee table when Angel reaches for your arm pulling you on his lap. He wraps his arms around you lap trying to kiss you but once again you turn away and get off him. You grab everything and carry it to the kitchen.

’’Lord help me’’ you say to yourself. You go back to the living room and Angel still sits there he is deep in his thoughts and doesn’t hear you. You notice the sad look on his face and kind of regret torturing him like this but then you remember all the times he pranked you and you still have the urge to give him a bit of his own medicine.

You now lay down on the couch and take the remote hoping something you like is on right now. Angel gets up and before you know it he’s laying on top of you with all his weight.

’’Angel get up’’ you say but he doesn’t move.

’’Angel come on!’’ you say with a firm voice. Still nothing

’’Angel for the love of god. Get off me! You’re heavy as fuck.’’ he moves his head and looks at you before finally speaking up.

’’No’’ he says and smiles.

’’Yes Angel’’

’’No Y/N simply No! You’re depriving me of my kisses since I came back home from the club hose since this morning I won’t get up until you finally give me a kiss. I swear I can lay here for the rest of the day. You’re pretty comfortable mi dulce. I have time.’’ he says and smile thinking he now has won.

’’Well I have time too baby - keep waiting’’ you say and give him a winning smile. At least you thought that this was a win but you were wrong. So so wrong. Angel covers your face with his kisses - you whole face before he goes for your lips and as soon as his meet yours you know love lost. You may have lost this war but you don’t really care right now. You’re happy to finally have his lips on yours again. To have him this close to you again. Once he releases your lips you speak up.

’’You can be a little whiney bitch has anyone ever told you before?’’ you say and laugh.

’’No but thanks for that my dulce you’re so charming. You surprise me every fucking time’’ he says   in a sarcastic way. ’’I know right? Im pretty awesome!’’ and smile and he returns it.

’’So what was this about?’’ he now asks and move off you to sit next to you. You sit up and cross your legs before answering him.

’’Revenge.’’ is the only thing you say.

’’What for?’’ he asks raising his eyebrows.

’’The prank you pulled on me last week.’’ you say and he remembers.

’’Yes that was fun’’

’’Was not!’’ 

’’Yes it was Y/n it was legendary. Your face was hilarious.’’ he say and laughs thing back to the week before. He sees the look on your face and pulls you in his arms. 

’’I’m sorry baby but what you did today that was cruel.’’

’’I appreciate the apology. I swear if you do sorting like that one m ore time we’re not talking about depriving kisses. I swear I’ll bring it to a whole new level.’’

’’Is that a threat?’’ he asks

’’No baby I would never threaten you. This - This was a promise.’’

’’What will I be facing?’’

’’No sex’’ you say and lean back smoking at him. You know this is how you’ll get him.

’’Are you fucking kidding me? You’re not being serious right now mi dulce. I thought no kisses was cruel but this brings it to a whole new level.’’ he says full of despair.

’’We all you need to do is to stop pranking me and you won’t have to suffer or have blue balls more like both. So that I’ve told you your options I’ll let you think about it for a while.’’ say and kiss hime before walking away.

’’Where you’re going?’’ he asks

’’Bed’’

’’Wow hold up wait for me. I promise no pranks I swear.’’

’’Then I guess someone will get lucky now’’ so say with a smirk and hear him practically running after you.

Taglist:

@everyhowlmarksthedead

@mayans-sauce

@justatiredfool

@ocetevasgirl

@lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo

@queenbeered

@angelreyesgirl

@starrynite7114

@spookys-girl

@charcoocheurie

@nadinesabre

[bubbletimestories]

could you do a sebastian fic where sebby is dating his s/o only to get information out of them but they know he's manipulating them ? and then at one point he starts developing feelings for them but they were planning on breaking up with him :(

So....do you know the story of the girl who wanted to answer a quick prompt but finished with 5 pages ? 😅

I hope you’ll like it (I tried to write as gender neutral as possible) and thank you for the request, it’s highly appreciated  💞 💞 

The lies on your lips 

The sun illuminates the white facades of the mansion and gives the flowers in the gardens hues almost too rich for a painter's brush. The end of summer is still mild and the atmosphere is charged with the sweet scents of cupcakes and lemonade that we love to enjoy in the shade. However, not everyone takes advantage of summer idleness to relax under a tree while reading a novel. Two figures move by whirling in the courtyard, raising with each step a small cloud of dust which whitens their legs. Of the two duettists, only one is out of breath and, as usual, it's you. Your legs are stiff with fatigue, your chest heaves far too quickly but your hand does not shake, you refuse to give up. A few steps away, your fencing master does not even seem to be sweating and is patiently waiting for you to catch your breath, as he always does. His amused gaze could be infuriating if you didn't also perceive a touch of lust in it, as if the shock of your blades were only a preliminary before a more intimate and sensual melee.

“Your movement is good, Milord/Milady, but you are still resting too much on your left side. A Lisbon boot would disarm you in no time."

 Comfortably installed in an armchair stretched with white and blue fabric, your mother observes you from a distance, waving her fan of feathers. She absolutely does not believe that her child, with such an unathletic physique, can do much with a foil, but she readily acknowledges your progress since the arrival of the new teacher. If your father weren't on a trip to the wilderness of Scotland (a grim business of murder, alas, mixed up with occult), he'd probably be very surprised to see you so quick and determined.

With a discreet movement of the wrist, your teacher invites you to take a break but you don't want to, you want to draw on your last strength to carry a few more assaults before your limbs become soft like those of a puppet. Without reaching, you put yourself back on guard and attack with even greater vigor and speed, hoping deep down that you could pull even a grimace from the man in black. Your blades clash with a loud bang, you continue to waltz, gauging each other like two predators until at last you see a rift in your opponent's guard. Exhausted and excited, you rush into it and realize too late that this is a trap. The next moment you are lying on the ground, your foil a few feet from your hand.

 "Looks like you've lost again but your last streak, albeit a bit rushed, almost cost me the win. Hope you didn't hurt yourself while falling. "

 Gloved hands glide over your limbs to make sure you've got nothing, and you suppress a delicious thrill as you cross the eyes of an exquisite red. As expected since he won, you will have to resist the urge to scream while he satisfies you tonight, while his hands will hold your delicate wrists, his mouth will give you a thousand tortures without you being able to let your passion escape. One day it’s him who will lose his head, his body sweaty and your name on his lips. The delicious flavor of the forbidden only makes this relationship all the more incredible, those moments stolen from the time when the owl howls, just a few steps from the mother's bedroom. You get up with his help, dusting your dust-covered outfit while your mother congratulates the fencing master.

 - Well done, Mr Michaelis, you really are an outstanding fencer.

- It’s too much honor, Milady, I’m just one hell of a teacher.

Sebastian bowed respectfully, always so modest under all circumstances, so detached. His calm sometimes makes you think of a snake, a magnificent black viper that ripples in the grass, but that would be forgetting the burning heat of his body against yours, his kisses sometimes tender sometimes disarming at the most incongruous moments. Breathing still choppy, you take time off to go to your room and clean yourself up properly, removing the thick gray layer that covers your limbs, stuck with sweat. The bath prepared by the maid does you a lot of good and you let her clean your hair and nails, anxious to appear to your advantage. Then you ask to be left alone to get dressed, pacing the room, naked. Every corner of the room seems to you to be inhabited by the presence of the fencing master, in one place he devoured your lips, in another he healed your swollen ankle although it was not his role. You who had always refused the suitors around you, it didn't take long for you to succumb to the charm of the man in black, his soft voice, his elegance. Your affair has lasted for several weeks and no one suspects anything thanks to the young man's discretion. Your fingers stroke the glove you managed to steal from him after a night of love, you bring it to your lips, feel the grain of the fabric against your mouth. Then your smile subsides.

 Liar

 Such a perfect being, so mysterious, could not but arouse your curiosity but also your suspicions. When you have a father who investigates the cults of Britain, you learn to beware of what sounds too good to be true. And then there's this young boy you sometimes see, puny, a long lock in front of his eye. His almost ghostly allure has stuck on your retina and if you don't know exactly what to think, one thing is certain in your mind: Sebastian is lying to you, he is manipulating you like a vulgar doll. Deep down, it doesn't shock you, he wouldn't be the first to want to make an obedient toy out of you, but it's the first time you've let someone pull your strings. In the mirror, you meet a frozen gaze, filled with anger even if you don't really know which of him or of you deserves your hatred the most. Your hands angrily take the clothes on the bed, the satin slides over your flesh like an icy wave, so different from the softness of gloved hands. No need to lie to yourself, you realized a long time ago that Mr. Michaelis had wrapped his chains all around you, not just around your body but also around your heart. You want him, you love him and you hate him. However, you are aware that crying scandal would be pointless. The beautiful man is too meticulous, too well-liked to arouse any suspicion. And then, in this affair, who has the most to lose? That’s why you keep quiet, you don’t intend to chase him away or prevent him from carrying out his plans. No doubt he will achieve his ends and disappear without leaving a trace. But that doesn't mean you have to remain his puppet. Tonight you will end your relationship.

 ***

The moon is high in the sky as you leave the mansion to enter the gardens under the pretext of wanting to enjoy the starry night. The knots of your outfit flutter gently in the light breeze and you walk between the thickets to get away from the lights, the music, the rest of the world. No need to watch for a rustle, crackle or noise, you know Sebastian will arrive as quietly as a feather in the wind, as if he were emerging from the darkness. With a few glances, a purely aristocratic authoritarian chin movement which he adores, you have made a date with your lover in the secret gardens. Strangely, you don't feel any pain at the thought of breaking your bond, only a great void and a certain weariness. He gave you what you didn't think you wanted: the feeling of being desirable and lovable, and for that you are grateful to him. But it has to stop and quickly, before it gets too hard.

 "Did I tell you how much that color highlights your mouth, Y/N? Tonight you looked like you could devour the world with just one bite, with the movement of your lips."

 In the half-light, his pupils shine with a glow more reminiscent of amethyst than ruby, you have learned to recognize this change as a sign of interest, when his excitement is strong. Unless it's just a comedy, a subtle acting game. This is not the first time he compliments your mouth rather than your eyes like everyone else does, he says he loves the way you talk, curl your lips, consume like a voracious and greedy animal. Behind the delicate and elegant facade, he alone knows your insatiable appetites, the violence of your desires. You smile before picking up one of the swords you took care to take tonight. The bare blade captures the moon's rays and makes it shine with a silvery sheen.

 “We're going to play a game, Mr. Michaelis. We will face each other now, in the stillness of the night, until one of us bleeds. During this time, you will have to answer my questions honestly, without lying."

 Your vibrant voice informs the young man about your intentions, it is not a parade of seduction but a declaration of war. Regardless, both situations will bring him equal pleasure and he stares at you with a smirk, picking up the other sword without taking his eyes off you.

- This is a dangerous game, my love, what will I gain from it?

- You never refused a good fight seems to me.

 To support your point, you raise your sword with an innocent smile, knowing in advance that the pleasure of the game will outweigh anything else in the fencing master. You see it in the crease of his mouth, in the movement of his eyebrow, you've caught his attention. With feline grace, Sebastian begins to circle around the yard as before, shedding his jacket and exposing his thin muscles under the snowy fabric of his shirt. He can feel all the anger pulsing through your veins, you must have discovered something incriminating him, but that's okay. His mission is coming to an end and he will soon have to return to his little master, even if the prospect does not enchant him too much. He loves your company, your light shoulder movement when you concentrate, the tension in your muscles when you hold back from sighing, the twinkle of your eyes revealing the fire that burns under the fine varnish of appearances.

 - Let's start with something easy: is Sebastian Michaelis your real name?

- That’s the name I have agreed to bear on this earth.

 Your blades cross, you study each other with your eyes as you vainly search his face for signs of deception. You have never detected one before, you will not pierce his mask tonight. Fighting in your evening clothes is much more complex than in your fencing ones, the fabric stretches and hinders you in your movements but it only reinforces your rage. And then you have this strange thought that wounds will look better on pretty fabric than on dull cotton. As for Sebastian, he ditched the black of his suit tonight to let blood show with every scratch.

 - Did you come here to spy or to gather information ?

- Yes.

 His answer is simple, spoken in a clear voice without any emotion, shame, regret or even mockery. Would you have liked him to be more cruel? At least that confirms your suspicions even though you now feel a thousand questions on your tongue ready to pop out. You have to stay focused, parrying an attack to respond better. You feel stronger, faster than ever before, it's an exhilarating feeling but one that you can't appreciate because what's at stake in this fight is your heart.

 - Did you seduce me on purpose?

- Yes.

 Once again, he responds calmly as if you asked him if the weather would be nice tomorrow. The detachment with which he says "yes", while continuing to parry your attacks effortlessly ... it's almost painful. Sebastian executes a movement as fast as an arrow, his sword biting the fabric of your sleeve but not cutting into your skin. You're sure he did it on purpose, he doesn't want the game to end and you know full well he's too good to be hurt. His speed and agility are almost… inhuman. In a flash, you think back to the ghost you saw, to certain stories circulating about the queen's hound ...

 - Would you have kill me on the orders of your master?

- Yes.

 The attacks are faster, you waltz at a frantic pace, moving forward, backward, constantly avoiding to better face each other again and you feel the anger rising more and more at the risk of blind you and getting lost your concentration. Still, the young man does not seem to be trying to take advantage of it, just pushing your boots aside without trying anything further. On the contrary, he slows down the movement gradually, detailing your rapid breathing, the sweat that pearls on your forehead, the red of your cheeks. You are exhausted and even if you are enduring, you maintain an aristocratic health, you have to be careful. That's why he lets himself be disarmed, your sword under his chin while looking at you intently without even trying to wipe the thin scarlet line that crosses his cheekbone, signaling the end of the fight.

 "Do I have the right to add one last truth before we go our separate ways? "

 You should say no, you would like to refuse, tell him to disappear from your sight, that you never want to hear his voice again, his sweet but empty words, his exquisite and bewitching lies. But you nod your head without lowering your blade, in anticipation. Perhaps he will explain more precisely why he used you. After all, he's only telling the truth tonight, cruel as it is. Sebastian plunges his shifting eyes deep inside yours, running his tongue over his lips before speaking the most shocking, infamous truth a demon can ever articulate.

 " I love you."

[h-barber]

The Last Letter

Much time has passed since you last saw of me. And so much more has changed. Seven years, three seasons and some days had passed on Kha’kesh by now, yet barely some four years on the Human homeworld. Countless skirmishes, sieges and victories against the Humans were recorded and broadcast home since we had first set out to fight off the Human threat. Proud and fervent were we when our fleets decimated the Human occupied space. Ever prouder as our flags were flown tall over the ruins of Human strongholds. Little did our people know the costs we had paid.

Each moon and space station taken; tens of thousands of human defenders slain came at an unreasonable cost. We paraded and celebrated all our achievements across our space, praising our unmatched military might. Yet none ever cared for the dead or dying among us. While the Humans erected monuments and launched a seemingly unending broadcast naming and honouring their dead, we had abandoned our brethren to rot on the battlefields. Such barbarity, for little more than a minor military advantage. Over a hundred thousand of our finest were gone before we even approached our destination. Earth. For each Human we’ve felled, they’ve repaid us tenfold, reaping a dozen of ours. Still, our endless hordes could not be stopped. Their puny numbers could not even hope for a chance to repeal our assaults. Still, not one of the Humans was seen to surrender. Knowing they were the last barrier between us and their precious Earth they stood fast and held their ground.

And stand they did, a stalwart shield of Humanity, until the bitter end. They made us pay dearly for every metre of their territory.

Barely a year into the war for them, they saw each of their bastions fall, fleets scatter and their forward armies utterly decimated. Barely a year here, yet nearly three years into the war for us. Even as we stopped receiving any sort of broadcasts from home, our mission stayed unchanged. We were to subdue Humanity at all cost. Despite the silence being worrisome, we could not afford to spare any ships to send home to find out what has caused the radio silence. Alas Humanity’s last bastion stood alone, at last, Earth Stood alone. They stood alone.And yet there they were, ever proud and standing.

Unbowed, unbroken, Humanity would not yield.

During our last preparations for the all-out assault of Earth we’ve been intercepting varying messages. They differed little, from last goodbyes among families and their friends to encouragements among soldiers, bracing themselves for their last stand. “May we meet again”, they ended their messages as if they still held out hope. Apart from these, we had intercepted one new recurring broadcast that nothing but shook our resolve.

„We shall fight until the bitter end, We shall fight among the stars, We shall fight on Mars, We shall fight on every planet and moon, We shall defend every piece of land Man calls home, We shall fight them in the atmosphere, We shall fight on the plains and hills, We shall fight in the cities and forests. We shall never surrender. “

This was the first of the planetwide broadcasts we had intercepted, reaching every corner of the Earth, cementing their already adamant resolve. We never could have imagined the massive surge in open replies this has enkindled. Responses from all across the planet, from military garrisons, militias and entire cities of civilians echoed across all the available frequencies. All chanting an oath to defend their home,

„ I solemnly swear, to defend the rights and freedoms of man, from the clear blue skies of the Earth, to the far reaches of the Milky way. I solemnly swear, to stand fast against foes however vast. I solemnly swear, to defend Humanity, for as long as I shall live. I solemnly swear. We shall never Surrender. “

These broadcasts lasted for hours, pinging new locations on our tactical map every passing minute. Even battered and horribly outnumbered, they would not listen to our proposals for their surrender. They would rather die defending their home, than live subjugated.

As the time for the assault approached, I had called my commanders to carry out the final imperial orders. As was customary for the general and commanders leading the final battle of a war, we would relay a final offer to accept our foe’s unconditional surrender in exchange for sparing their lives. Normally, the offer is but an empty gesture, a pretence that we will show mercy.

However, it was different with these Humans. Over the course of the war we grew to respect our foes. Rarely do we fight others than unprincipled savages. Even rarer are wars not for survival, but ideals. Even their valour and utter refusal to submit saw no likeness even among our most elite units. Every single Human we have faced so far was worth at least ten of us. It is admirable, finding a species so young by galactic standards, yet so resilient.

And in spite of the countless grievances we have inflicted upon them, the ruthless slaughter and all the devastation, they have found the capacity to show mercy to any who surrendered to them. They spared those who would no longer hold up arms against them, and let those who surrendered have their wounds tended to. Not only did they let live those we would have executed without batting an eye, they gave them another chance at life. They showed mercy, where they got none. A truly respectable foe.

Still, a foe nonetheless.

We barely got past the courtesies at the beginning of the final negotiation, when our comm’s channels were flooded by reports and emergency requests for immediate assistance from our home provinces. Months’ worth of messages starting with mere requests for support personnel and reports of the Var’Kesh advancing towards our territory. These were over four months old, all undelivered up until now.

At first, the requests were sent frequently, several times a day, their tone growing more dire each day. The more recent messages were far fewer and further in-between. The last message was nearly a week old. I could see the pure horror and dread as it emanated from each of my commanders as they listened to the transcript of the last message. It was a casualty report, yet it listed no numbers. Just names. One after another, colonies of Kha’Kesh were listed only as, “overrun”. Meanwhile the Human leadership watched us in silence across our vidcon interface. They had answered expecting the beginning of the end of the human race. Instead they had witnessed the empire of the Kha’Kesh wither away.

That day everything changed. From us abandoning our campaign of conquest and returning to fight for our home, to the Humans’ offering of a ceasefire until we’ve saved our people. On our way home we passed by nothing but ruins of once lush worlds, but a remnant of a once proud civilisation.

The trail of desolation led across our space with no end. What used to be golden worlds teeming with life, were now barren wastelands. Once we had reached our star system, we understood the deafening silence across our space. 

The entire standing imperial armada serenely crept across space around our sun. Decrepit husks of the ships that once stood watch over the empire. Their watch has ended long since. The wreckage was far from fresh, in fact it seemed near a year old.

No responses from either our homeworld or its moons. No active broadcasts, apart from automated messages relaying orders for immediate evacuation. Seven years and three seasons had passed since we had departed Kha’kesh to wage war on Humanity.

Now we are nearing a third year since we had landed what was left of the imperial army on the remains of Kha’kesh. Since then we have liberated most of the camps where our people were herded as cattle. We’ve retaken entire cities and bastions, only to see them wiped of the face of the planet months later. The remnants of our army are holding the last reaches of the land we control. Our fleet has joined the husks of the imperial armada, as they held the space around our homeworld in a vain attempt to retain control of our space. The last ships from our fleet had gone down covering our ground retreat to our most heavily defended citadel on our homeworld. The last bastion of Kha’kesh.

We heard the shrieks outside our defences, we listened as they grew more numerous each night. The deafening growls kept us sleepless for nights on end, waiting for the storm. This was to be our last stand. As the Humans had said when faced with certain annihilation, We shall fight for as long as we shall live. However long that may be.

No one believed we would live to see another dawn, never were we gladder to be so wrong. 

As we braced ourselves for the sea of those feral beasts to come down on us, something had stopped them in their tracks. The dark night skies of Kha’kesh lit up as if dawn had come in the midst of night. The light show staggered those animals for the briefest of moments just as it had us. A tiny flame of hope came to life in our hearts as we recognised the bright blazing lights. 

Yet, they would not be stopped. They began to rush at us with their full numbers again shortly thereafter. We recognised the blasts of kinetic bombardment the moment they lit up the fields on which a rushing horde of Var’Kesh had been just moments ago. Hundreds of blasts cleansed the surrounding fields from which we were besieged for weeks. As the dust settled, fighter jets whooshed past our heads, the likes of which we have never seen before, bombarding the remaining Var’Kesh. However, the base of these designs was not all too alien to us. 

Human engineering at its finest. 

We have encountered prototypes of such fighters, yet none so vastly refined. As the jets reclaimed absolute aerial control, drop pods came roaring from the skies. In a blaze of glory, they dropped right on top of Var’Kesh positions. While we rallied at our defensive positions, legions of Human soldiers started advancing against the remaining Var’Kesh from their pods, while several smaller squads advanced on our positions.

Never was I so glad to see infamous Human warriors enter our bastion. Among them were the leaders whose surrender we had offered to accept on countless occasions. I’ll never forget the words that came from their crude translators, “Old grievances put aside, annihilation is a fate no species should face, not even those who wished it upon us”. Human compassion never ceased to amaze me. Even as we were the ones who nearly wiped them off the face of the galaxy, they came for us, when we were faced with a fate no different.

Hope was alive once more. Over the course of the next year, we have seen success we couldn’t even dream of for the three years we had desperately fought for our lives. With the Human armies and their renewed armada over our world at our side, we have reclaimed our homeworld and nearly all colonies. Today we prepare to rid our space of the Var’Kesh for good. A final assault to push them back. 

They have refitted our outermost colonies as their forward bases. The resistance we have met until now is dwarfed in comparison to how they have secured those planets.

I was never gladder we started a war we could not finish. We would have been long gone were it not for these humans. As I write this letter, the Human admirals are relaying the orders for our assault of the Var’Kesh strongholds. They had promised to keep searching for the refugee fleet, that had escaped the onslaught Kha’kesh was subjected to, as soon as we have secured our borders. I hold out hope to see your beautiful face once again. We never gave up hope you are still out there. I am relaying this message on all Kha’Kesh channels for anyone out there who might listen.

The Kha’Kesh live.

For any who might listen, Humanity is the greatest ally we could never have hoped for. Even if we are gone by the day you return, they will stand guard of our home until then.

Glory to the empire and those who remain, This will be my last broadcast, General Zun’Ri of Kha’kesh over and out.

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Avengers Preference #6

How the Avengers act when they are jealous - Plus Size/Chubby Reader

Masterlist

Tony

Tony would make a lot of sarcastic comments around the person he feels is getting a little too close to you. He would barge in when you two are supposed to be alone, working on a project or something, and just shower you in compliments and say how lucky he is to have you. Tony would subtly boast about his wealth, fame and lowkey threaten to have the Avengers beat them up if they make a move on you. “Sorry strawberry shortcake, this one’s mine. Find your own.” 

Steve

Steve knows jealousy all too well, from back in the day when he would get jealous of Bucky when he got all the girls. When he has you, he never likes it when a guy gets your attention for too long. Steve would be a little distant, knowing you would hound him until you figured out what was wrong. He’d find an excuse to be upset so that you wouldn't want to leave his side. Steve would want to do his training in front of the guy who he’s jealous of, showing him that he could literally crush him if he wanted to. And he does want to, but he won’t. “Listen bub, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. That’s my girl.” 

Thor

Thor would see some guy touching you a little too intimately for his liking and storm his way over there. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you close to him. He’d probably compliment you and threaten the other guy in the same sentence. If he’s already in a bad mood to begin with, he would summon his hammer or axe and watch him run away with his tail between his legs. “Ah my love, you must introduce me to your puny friend. He’s so tiny and he looks weak.” 

Bruce

Bruce would try just about anything before he let himself get mad, not wanting to risk your safety because of his jealousy. The hulk likes you but Bruce can never be sure what the other guy is going to do when he comes out. If Bruce is feeling jealous of someone being around you too much and he can see their intentions are not platonic, he would tell you and hope that you would push them away. If all else fails, he would wait until you weren't around and let the other guy out, promptly scarring the man for life after the Hulk is finished with him. “No touch (Y/N)!”

Peter

Peter would get jealous over just about anything so you’re pretty aware of his signs to notice his jealousy. It's usually after you’ve just made a new guy friend and they’re flirting with you past the point of a joke. Peter would be sneaky about it, not wanting you to find out what he was doing. He would delete the number from your phone and if he kept messaging you, he would go out at night, as spiderman, and stalk the guy. He would threaten him to stay away from you, using his instant kill mode to scare him even more. “Buddy, if I have to tell you one more time to stay the hell away from my girlfriend, you’re gonna get hurt.” 

Natasha

Natasha isn't someone who shows their emotions easily. It would be very difficult to know when she is jealous of someone. If she saw another man or woman flirting with you at one of Tony’s parties, she would spend most of the night by your side instead of behind the bar. She’d be a little more affectionate with you, giving you kisses on the cheek a couple more times. If that didn't work, she’d drag you to the nearest empty room and fuck you, leaving lots of hickeys all over you body for everyone to see. “I’m not jealous baby, I’m just showing everyone who you belong to.”

Bucky

Bucky would get very jealous every time a man, other than Steve, even tries to hug you. He wouldn’t do anything in front of you, not wanting you to pick up on it or call him out for being jealous. No, he would wait until it was the middle of the night and pay that guy a visit. He’d have no issue with stalking the man to his home and creeping into his bedroom and waking him up to find Bucky sitting on a chair at the end of his bed, playing with his knife, “Me and you need to have a little chat about (Y/N).”

Loki

Loki also wouldn't want to do anything in front of you either. You’re one of the very few people in his life that still have a high opinion of him and he wants to keep it that way for as long as possible. Loki would find any excuse to steal you away from crowds and have you by his side for as long as possible while simultaneously playing tricks on the guy who’s been flirting with you all night. He would have no problem killing them if they made any more advances on you either, he will do anything to make sure you’re his only. “Trust me, you really don’t want to piss me off.” 

Wanda

Wanda would be a little reserved at first, not wanting to make a big deal out of it if she was wrong about their intentions. She would observe the two of you and when it became clear that they wanted you in a romantic or sexual way, she would unleash hell, so to speak. You are hers and she will do anything to keep it like that. When they are alone, Wanda would use her powers on them and manipulate their mind to get them to leave you alone for good. “You will not lay a finger on my princess or I will hurt someone you love.” 

Clint

Clint wouldn't rush into things head first, he would plan his revenge for the guy who has been flirting with you nonstop for the past week. He would enlist the help of Natasha and the two of them would make sure that he stays away from you. Natasha would drop just about every hint possible that he needs to give you his advances on you, but when he still flirts with you, Clint loses it. He straight up just starts making out with you in front of him, showing him that he can’t have you. He would probably find Natasha and Clint in his house that night as well, delivering their promise to hurt him if he continued to flirt with you. “I warned you bud, but you didn't listen. Why do they never listen? Oh well, can’t say it’s not your fault now.”

[blackswaneuroparedux]

The French are completely without scruples, energy or valor - the Great War castrated them and left them diminished, whiney, mistaking bickering for debate and shrillness for eloquence, they are a nation in such effete decline that Shickelgrubber, when he finally attacks them, might be dancing with the keys to Paris in his hand after a week or two of puny skirmishing.

- Carl Gustaf Emil Mannerheim, The Memoirs of Marshal Mannerheim

Carl Gustaf Emil Mannerheim (1867–1951) charted the course of Finnish history and was voted greatest Finn of all time, ahead of Sibelius.

He served as a general in the Russian Imperial Army for decades, and later became a war hero in his home country of Finland against Stalin’s aggression. He was the symbol of the Finnish struggle against Soviet Russia during the Winter War of 1939–1940. He was hailed as a champion of liberty throughout the Western world during those 105 days of stubborn resistance against a vastly superior enemy.

This was not the first time that the stately representative of Finland’s Swedish-speaking aristocracy had been supreme commander in a war against Russia.

The War of Liberation in 1918 – later also called the Civil War – had been fought against Soviet Russia and against its allies, the Finnish “Reds.” And the Winter War was not the last war Mannerheim fought against Russia, either.

The period of combat known as the Continuation War, 1941 to 1944, during which German forces fought alongside the Finnish army, exacted a much heavier toll on Finland and Russia than the Winter War had.

Moreover, during the Continuation War, Finnish forces even advanced into Russian territory with the intention of annexing Eastern Karelia, a region which had never belonged to Finland.

Mannerheim’s record as a soldier was impressive. He fought for Russia on the battle front in both the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–05 and in the First World War between 1914 and 1917. General Mannerheim was decorated with the St George’s Cross for gallantry and was famous for his military skill and efficacy.

Mannerheim was also an able sportsman whose horsemanship won prizes. This was evidently one of the reasons why he was chosen for the formidable task of undertaking a reconnaissance mission, on horseback through Asia, that lasted two years.

A non-Russian officer in the Imperial Army was no rarity. In fact, there were thousands of them. Many of these inorodtsy or “non-orthodox” subjects of the emperor serving in the Russian army came from the Baltic provinces, spoke German as their mother tongue and were Lutheran by religion, as was Mannerheim.

However, Mannerheim’s background differed from that of his Baltic brother officers. He came from the Grand Duchy of Finland, which sent more than 4,000 officers to serve in the Russian army between 1809 and 1917. Almost 400 of them reached the rank of general or admiral.

Most of the officers from Finland spoke Swedish as their mother tongue, Finnish being used mainly as a second language, if they knew it at all. Mannerheim’s Finnish before 1917 was far from fluent.

However, in common with the Baltic German officers, the Finnish officers served the emperor impeccably. In fact, there are no records of disloyalty among the Finns, even during the period from 1899 to 1917 when Russia began to pressure Finland by undermining its juridical status. In lieu of disloyalty, some of the officers chose to retire from active service.

Mannerheim did not retire. He remained a faithful soldier even though he privately deplored the emperor’s policies, which he regarded as unwise. Even when his own brother was exiled to Sweden, Mannerheim’s loyalty to the emperor remained unshaken. His relatives understood his position.

It was only when the Bolshevik revolution of 1917 crushed the old order that Mannerheim realised his ties of loyalty to Russia had been cut. After the revolution he became a champion of the White Finnish cause.

His loyalty towards his native land was now total and he always respected its democratic institutions even though he was hardly a true democrat by conviction.

Mannerheim’s career in the service of two states is an intriguing story that excites curiosity. To Russians, Mannerheim is above all the cultivated young officer of the Chevalier Guards who stood by Nicholas II during coronation procession.

In Finnish eyes Mannerheim stands tall as the elderly marshal, a man of honour and a fatherly figure whose moral integrity and intelligence could always be trusted.

During his own lifetime he became, alongside Sibelius, the best-known Finnish personage at home and abroad. Even at an early stage in his career, he was the object of admiration and respect, a fact reflected in street names, statues and a home museum highly regarded by the public.

The admiration and respect have fluctuated with the changing times. The winning side initially regarded the Commander-in-Chief of 1918 even with the admiration due to a legendary figure; the losing side with resentment. Between 1939 and 1944 the enemy attempted to rekindle negative emotions that had already subsided - though what they achieved was more of a counterstroke.

During the leftist upsurge of the 1970s, criticism of Mannerheim re-emerged. Admiration became correspondingly more marked at the time of the Marshal of Finland's death and burial, in connection with the great equestrian statue project in the late 1950s, and again in the 1980s and 1990s.

[marvelslut16]

An Unexpected Encounter

Pairing Crowley x reader 

Synopsis: Reader runs into her old hunting partners, the Winchesters, after not seeing them since they found out she was with Crowley years prior. The boys get a glimpse into life with a slightly domesticated Crowley.

Word count: 1560

Warnings: Swearing probably. Mentions of Hell, hell hounds, and demons. Angry Dean. 

Author’s note: It’s my first Crowley imagine so let me know how I did! And, I chose George as a filler name to make the writing process easier, feel free to change it to whatever you would like while reading.

You walk out of the quaint little diner that you frequent once a week for breakfast, the warm spring weather surrounds you like a blanket. You breathe in deeply, enjoying the faint smell of rain that lingers in the air, and the fresh scent of blooming flowers. You bask in the sun's rays while you still can. 

“(Y/N) is that you?” you here a deep voice that you know all too well coming from behind you. In the reflection from the diner’s picture window you can see your old hunting partners Sam and Dean advancing towards you. Your mouth dries and you take a gulp of air before turning to face the brothers. You put on your brightest smile, pushing the memories of the last time you saw them to the back of your mind. 

“Sam, Dean,” you use your practiced fake voice. The one you use with Crowley’s demons when they annoy you and get out of hand. “What brings you boys to this little town?”

“Electric storms popping up, just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a demonic omen,” Sam looks down at you, his long hair blowing lightly in the breeze. “Why are you here then?”

“Just finished breakfast,” you use your thumb to point at the diner behind you. The diner that holds your new life, the one you know Sam and Dean won’t approve of. 

“So you quit hunting?” Dean raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Yeah I did,” you put on a real smile, images of yours and Crowley’s life in Hell flash before your eyes. “I guess I wanted that apple pie life too.”

“Good for you (Y/N),” Sam smiles down at you. “Honestly never thought you’d be the one to give the supernatural up.” You faintly smile and give him a small nod, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.  

“Well let us know if you see anything,” Dean says in his gruff voice, the one he uses when he’s on guard. It’s been four years and he doesn’t trust you anymore, a small part of you deflates. These boys were practically your brothers, and because of one fight they no longer trust you. 

“This isn’t attack of the demons,” you roll your eyes at Dean, too annoyed to care about your attitude. “Believe me, I would know.”

“You still talk to Crowley or something?” Dean’s anger flashes in his eyes. He has no right to get angry at you all over again. This fight was the whole reason you left in the first place. 

“Something like that,” you move your left hand from your side into the back pocket of your jeans as naturally as you can. Wanting to hide the over the top engagement ring and matching studded wedding band. 

“He’s just using you (Y/N). He doesn’t care about you he never has!” Dean roars. You take a deep breath to keep from yelling back, you can’t do this here. Not now.

Before you can open your mouth to refute his claim, the bells connected to the diner door jingle, alerting that you three or no longer alone on the street. You tightly close your eyes as you hear the tiny footsteps running up to you, no way to avoid this now.  

“Mommy!” your son squeezes your legs and hides behind them when he sees that you aren’t alone. 

“Hi my little prince,” you scoop him up into your arms, wanting the security of him being close to you right now. You glance behind you and see that his father did not accompany him out the door, and you let out a little sigh. “Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s inside paying,” he hides his face in the crook of your neck, trying to hide away from the punishment. The light scent of sulfur and crayons surrounds you now.  Sam and Dean are staring at you with wide eyes, you almost forgot there were there. 

“We talked about this mister-” you use your mom voice on him.

“I know,” your son leans back so he can look into your eyes, chubby arms wrapping around your neck. “But I saw you right outside the window and I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you chuckle fondly at your little boy, who has his father's black locks. “But you need to stay with one of us at all times.”

“Or someone could hurt me,” he finishes with a ridiculously large sigh coming from his tiny body. He definitely got his dramatic touch from his father. Sam clears his throat, reminding you that he and Dean are still there. 

“Oh right! Sam, Dean this is my son, George,” you smile at the brothers. “George can you say hi?” He hides his face in your neck again in protest, you let out a little giggle. “Sorry about that, he can be a little shy when it comes to new people.”

“That’s okay George,” Sam smiles and lightly pinches George’s exposed cheek. 

“Sam used to be shy too,” Dean adds, his eyes locked on your hand that's now rubbing soothing circles onto your son’s back. The sunlight bouncing off the many diamonds adorning your finger. 

“George is pretty big,” Sam comments, noticing his brothers curious gaze. 

“Yeah, he’s two and a half,” you grin down at the black mop of hair that’s in your eyesight. “I got engaged pretty quickly after I left, and married soon after. The pregnancy was a shock, we planned on waiting a little longer. But I wouldn’t change any of it.”

“So you moved on from that demon pretty quickly,” Dean gives you a triumphant smirk, he always hated your infatuation with Crowley. 

“They do still talk,” Sam looks down at his brother. “So don’t get too cocky.”

The bells behind you jingle once again, your grip on George tightens a bit, hoping that Dean won’t start yelling when he sees Crowley. Crowley walks up to you, slinking his left arm around your waist, giving George a kiss on the head, before pecking your cheek. You look to the right and grin at your husband, your king.  

“Moose, squirrel, always a pleasure to see you,” Crowley’s English accent drips with sarcasm.

“Those are people daddy,” George’s giggles are slightly muffled by your neck. “Not animals.”

“I know that my prince,” Crowley gives your son a genuine smile, sun glinting off his forehead ironically giving him the look of a halo. The king of Hell was quite the softy when it came to your little family. “Those were their nicknames when I worked with them years ago.”

George’s head flies out of the crook of your neck to whip around and face the brothers. “You knew my mommy and my daddy?” George asks, his little jaw dropping. “That’s crazy.”

“Yeah we did,” Sam gives him a soft smile while Dean’s anger seems to grow. 

“The three of us worked together for years,” you gave George a small squeeze, Crowley’s arm tightens around your waist. “Your dad would help us occasionally. But after your father and I got together we realized that we wanted a family and we left. I actually haven’t seen Sam and Dean since then.”

“You’re still with him?” Dean asks, eyes shrinking into slits. 

“Of course I am,” you scoff. “Hell, Sammy figured it out before Crowley ever walked out. I’m sure he knew as soon as I called George my prince.”

“You left us (Y/N)!” Dean seethes. “For that- that-”

“I was in love Dean! I still am,” you stare him down, jaw clenched tight. “And I would rather you not make a scene in front of my son.”

“No wonder you don’t want him away from either of you! He’s not-” Dean’s words are cut off when Crowley snaps. While no words come out, you can clearly make out the fact that he’s calling George not human and a monster.

You breathe in a sharp breath, fighting to hold back the tears that are rapidly rising. Dean was your best friend back in the day, the two of you were joined at the hip. But now he’s standing right in front of you insulting your son, your husband, your family.

“No one talks about my son like that!” Crowley’s voice rumbles, eyes briefly turning a bright red. “And no one raises their voice at my wife, she is my queen and you puny little humans will treat her as such!” 

“Bye boys,” you smirk at them before Crowley snaps your family back to Hell. It may be dark and full of Demons, but it’s home.

“My love-” Crowley gently pulls George from your arms and sets him on the ground. As soon as his little feet hit the ground he’s running to his room to find Juliet, the gigantic deadly hell hound and your sweet little son, the strangest best friends.

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” you gently caress his cheek, leaning in to give him a passionate kiss. When you pull back to catch your breath, Crowley snaps the two of you to your room.

“How about we make another little one, my Queen?” there’s a familiar glint to his eyes, and you can’t help but bite your bottom lip.

“I think that can be arranged my king,” your hands grasp the lapels of his suit coat, and pull him into a deep sensual kiss.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny​