#I hope I wrote this ok

[eyrieofsynapses]

why Aurora's art is genius

It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.

And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.

I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.

SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???

All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3

---

I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!

Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.

Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.

THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)

Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:

Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:

Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.

I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.

If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!

Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:

Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.

A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):

(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)

The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—

—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.

(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)

Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!

One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!

And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—

—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)

Additionally, the misting here:

We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.

A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).

Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):

First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:

The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.

The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.

The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.

A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:

The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)

The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart

The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand

The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)

I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.

Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:

Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.

Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)

And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.

Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.

Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):

It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:

Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.

And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.

One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.

A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.

Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?

Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):

The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:

What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P

Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):

They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.

Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.

And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3

...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.

#aurora comic #aurora webcomic #comicaurora #art analysis #...I hope those are the right tags??? #new fandom new tagging practices to learn ig #much thanks for something to read while I try to rest my wrists. carpal tunnel BAD. (ignore that I wrote this I've got braces ok it's fine) #anyway! I HAVE. MANY MORE THOUGHTS. ON THE STORY ITSELF. THIS LOVELY STORY #also a collection of reactions to a chunk of the comic before I hit the point where I was too busy reading to write anything down #idk how to format those tho #...yeet them into one post...??? #eh I usually don't go off this much these days but this seems like a smaller tight-knit fandom so... might as well help build it? #and I have a little more time thanks to break so #oh yes also shoutout to my insanely awesome professor for teaching me all the technical stuff from this he is LOVELY #made an incredibly complex program into something comprehensible <3 #synapse talks

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

#girlies i’ve never had alcohol in my life so i hope the way i wrote reader & jude being drunk was ok !!! 🫶🏽 #then again i’ve never had sex in my life and i write extensively about it so u know . 😭😭😭 #guys imagine if before every smut fic i wrote a disclaimer like ‘guys i-i’ve never had sex before but i hope i did okay with this 🥺🥺' LMAO #ALSO omg im sorry abt the inconsistencies in tone + tempo i legit wrote this over a 5 month period + came back to it at times when i didnt #feel like writing + i was just tryna get to the good bit iykwim ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °) #˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗ #˗ˏˋ 💬 ˎˊ˗ #jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #football imagine #footballer smut #footballer imagine

[bleedingoptimism]

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 3 (NSFW | FtM Steve + Vampire Eddie)

As Eddie lets himself be dragged by Sunshine through the room he catches Jeff from the corner of his eye giving him a big thumbs up and smiles back, unbelieving of his luck.

Out of curiosity, he looks over at The Boss and Sparrow, who are looking at them intently. Sparrow is glaring at him, again. What is up with her?

He sees as The Boss takes Sparrow’s hand and kisses it, telling her something Eddie can’t hear but looks awfully like ‘he’s gonna be okay’ and the frown on Sparrow’s face instantly melts away as she nods.  

He has a second to wonder what the hell was that about before he’s rudely interrupted by Freak, the big bouncer guy, once more crushing face-first into his chest.

They are at the entrance of a hallway that leads to some stairs and Sunshine doesn't seem to notice Eddie’s been stopped until his hand slips out of his.

He turns around and chuckles at Freak and Eddie just staring at each other.

“He’s with me, Freak” Sunshine says, just like Jeff had at the beginning of the night. Only this time Freak is a little reluctant.

“Aren’t you a lucky one?” He asks Eddie, raising an eyebrow, and Eddie has to resist the urge to talk shit back at him. He doesn't want to be kicked out, not now. Not when he’s so close.

Sunshine scoffs and moves to push Freak out of the way, but he also leans in and kisses his cheek, “Be nice, baby” he coos at him and Eddie gets to witness in real time a big-ass grown man melt into a fucking puddle at their feet.

And he can’t really blame him.

The softness doesn’t last long, however. Because as he’s moving past Freak to follow Sunshine, the bouncer stops him again and he speaks to Sunshine, keeping his eyes fixed on Eddie the whole time, “I’ll be right down here if you need me, ok?”

“Ok, baby!” Sunshine answers back, barely paying attention as he takes Eddie’s hand again and takes them upstairs.

They move through a hallway lined with doors on both sides to a second hallway that’s a little more secluded and only has four doors, farther between them. Sunshine gets a key from an inside pocket of his jacket and they enter one of the rooms.

Once inside he lets go of Eddie’s hand and moves to lock the door while Eddie looks around, the place doesn't look like a motel room or hotel or anything like it.

It looks just like someone’s room. Like an ordinary, lived-in, comfy-looking room. And it’s full of stuff. There’re books littered all over a desk and a bookshelf with even more books, but mostly filled with table games.

The bed is unmade, and huge, looks like an antique too, all the furniture does which makes the table games, books, and the fucking basketball and the training weights under the desk chair look surreal. Eddie walks around the room, taps the dresser with his knuckles as he passes by, looking at what’s on top of it. There’re hair and skin care products, a soft-looking brush he resists the urge to grab and try, a small black kit with the words ‘self-made’ in bright pink stitched into it. 

And… There’s a fucking copy of the Dungeons Master’s guide on the desk. He moves towards it and grabs it, looking back at Sunshine who’s just been standing by the door, letting him roam around until now, with a huge smile on his face.

Sunshine chuckles, “That’s not even mine,” he mutters and then lifts an eyebrow at him, “Is that what you want to do while we’re here?” he asks him, cocking his head to the side cutely. Meanly, actually. It’s fucking sexy as hell. 

Lost for words Eddie shakes his head no and Sunshine giggles and it’s the best thing he’s ever heard in his entire life. He feels himself salivating at the thought of tasting everything about Sunshine, even his sounds.

“Why don’t you make yourself at home. I’m gonna slip into something a little more comfortable,” he tells Eddie and then moves to a door on the side that he hadn’t even noticed was there.

That phrase leaves him feeling a little dizzy, all his blood rushing down south. What the fuck, he’s pretty sure he’s heard pornos start that way before. He just sits at the bottom of the bed and lets his mind wonder about what that even means, imagining Sunshine walking out of the vanity wearing a robe with nothing underneath, like in the movies. Or a cute lingerie set with matching colors, or black lace panties and a garter belt. Shit! Maybe comfortable means wearing nothing at all…

And then the door opens and Sunshine walks out… barefoot and wearing a pair of pastel peach sweatpants and a black crop top. And it’s somehow worse than anything Eddie was picturing, or better, actually. Because Sunshine really just wanted to be comfortable with him. And he looks so cozy and soft and warm and fucking beautiful. The sweatpants rest low on his hips, and the crop top reaches just below his belly button, leaving the bones of his hips, his lean stomach, his happy trail, and so many, many moles on display.

Eddie makes grabby hands at him and Sunshine laughs and shakes his head but starts walking towards him, “You didn’t even take your jacket off,” he comments.

“Oh,” Eddie replies eloquently and just sits there as Sunshine steps between his legs and stands in front of him.

“May I?” He asks him, hovering his hands over Eddie’s shoulders. He nods and Sunshine just smiles sweetly at him, and doesn't move until Eddie swallows and says, 

“Yes, please.”

Then Sunshine grabs him by the shoulders of the jacket and slowly starts pulling it down his arms and off him. Shit. He’s never been undressed like this before, so tenderly. He feels completely disarmed.

Once the jacket is off, Sunshine throws it over his shoulder where it falls neatly over a loveseat in the corner of the room.

Eddie smirks, “Nice,” and Sunshine cocks his head to the side confused, and looks back not knowing what Eddie’s referring to, before laughing sweetly when he sees where the jacket landed.

“Let’s pretend I did that on purpose,” He jokes smiling at Eddie and he has to bite his own lips to stop himself from whimpering at the sight of Sunshine, standing between his legs and looking down at him with that smile.

“So…” Sunshine drawls, as his fingers walk along Eddie’s shoulders and pick at the collar of his shirt, “What would you like to do?” he asks.

Everything.

Anything.

Everything.

“Can I touch you?” It’s what Eddie settles with. 

He’s not expecting Sunshine to blush bright red and blink at him, so sure of himself as he seemed. But he does, and he looks delicious.

“Yeah, yes,” he whispers and lets his hands rest on Eddie’s shoulders, offering himself to Eddie’s hands.

So Eddie takes. He lifts his hands and starts slow, barely pressing, caressing the soft skin on Sunshine’s hips. Sees the trails of goosebumps his fingers leave in their wake.

He presses his palms to the warm skin of his sides and splays his fingers wide to encompass as much as he can and then pulls Sunshine gently closer before pressing his face against his stomach and taking a deep breath.

He does fucking smell like the warmth of the sun on a field full of flowers, the motherfucker. 

It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced, it’s addicting. It’s scary.

He feels Sunshine gasp as he ghosts his lips over his stomach and keeps moving his fingers, exploring, feeling the muscles move under his fingertips, the soft hair of his happy trail, following it up where it almost disappears completely before coming back with a vengeance just below his pecs. 

Sunshine’s breathing gets faster and a little louder as Eddie keeps kissing his abs and whatever part of him he can reach as his hands drift further up, fingers stroking over the scars that follow the outline of muscles and are adorned with chest hair. He keeps going, follows the lines of ribs, and goes to his back, goes up and down his spine, pulling him a little bit closer and kissing just below his sternum.

The hands on Eddie’s shoulders are shaking now, and Sunshine lets out a whimper that seems to surprise even himself, his fingers flexing and twisting the fabric of Eddie’s shirt.

“Strid- I-” He starts but stops and just moans instead. And Eddie gets it. It feels weird not hearing his name come out of those beautiful lips between the whimpers and sounds he’s getting out of him. He wants to hear his name, whispered, moaned, screamed by Sunshine. Fuck he wants to know Sunshine’s name.

“You smell so good, you taste so sweet, you feel so soft,” Eddie tells him, standing up and pushing the crop top up over his torso and off of him. 

He takes a moment to just look at him, they’re almost the same height, Sunshine maybe a hair taller than him. And Eddie lets his eyes dance from head to toe appreciatively, taking in how wonderfully debauched he looks. All muscle and hair and soft skin covered in freckles, flushed and hot and just so fucking-

“You are so beautiful.” 

Sunshine’s eyes light up and he huffs and combs his fingers through a lock of Eddie’s hair and looks at it instead of him. He seems overwhelmed so Eddie lets him have a moment, hides his face on Sunshine’s neck, and stays there a second, breathing him in, and kissing him softly.

The whole ‘Never took anyone upstairs before’ makes a little more sense now and it makes Eddie feel overwhelmed himself to know how truly fucking special it is to be in here alone with him.

He noses the strong line of Sunshine’s jaw and down his neck, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head just from his scent. He kisses and nips lightly from tendon to shoulder and back again as Sunshine wraps his arms around his neck and clings to him, one of his legs going up Eddie’s side like he’s trying to climb him. Like he needs to be closer.

Eddie wraps his hands around his waist and lifts him up an inch before sitting back down on the bed with Sunshine sitting on top of him, knees on either side of his legs.

He immediately dives back to Sunshine's neck because he can’t get enough of him, he can feel his teeth sharpening and he lets Sunshine feel them too. The moan and slow thrust of his hips are pretty fucking encouraging but Eddie wants this to last, can’t get to the main dish yet.

His hands go back to feeling every vertebra on Sunshine’s spine as Sunshine's slow thrusts start a rhythm that pairs wonderfully with the small musical gasps and moans he lets out.

He’s so fucking responsive, it’s driving Eddie completely insane. Sunshine is the most beautiful, sensual, perfect man he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing, because he’s a fucking experience. And he’s never been so hard in his life, it’s almost too painful and he feels, he just knows, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast and probably before they even get their pants down and he honestly couldn’t care less right now.

Feeling like he’s about to overheat, Eddie leans back just enough to take his shirt off and he’s about to embrace the shivering angel on his lap again when Sunshine places his hands on Eddie’s chest. 

Eddie looks at him but Sunshine is staring somewhere below his neck and then down his chest and all over his torso. His hands move, touch him reverently and look at him as if Eddie was worth a shit. It makes his chest hurt, the way Sunshine looks at him.

He lets Sunshine caress his skin, trace his tattoos, and circle his nipples, flicking one of the piercings before cupping his peck, which makes Eddie chuckle getting a cute smile in return before Sunshine dives in and starts kissing Eddie’s neck, nipping, and licking like he’s the one who is actually hungry, like he’s the one who needs blood.

Eddie moves his hands to Sunshine’s waist and holds it strongly, fingers digging into the meat with purpose and encouraging the delicious rhythm of his hips to start anew. 

Both of them are breathing hard now, and Eddie grabs the waistband of Sunshines sweatpants and pulls them up, lifting him a little with the force of it, making him gasp and keen and then moves him and places him more firmly over his left thigh, so he can properly grind against him, use him to get off. 

Sunshine keeps moaning, breathless, “Ah, ah, ahs” he buries into Eddie’s hair where he’s grabbing and pulling at it. And Eddie places his leg more firmly on the floor and lifts his ankle a little, giving him more friction, actively holding Sunshine's waist and directing his movements as he fucks his thigh unrelentingly.

Sunshine’s knee is giving Eddie all the stimulation he needs right now. He’s close and he knows Sunshine is close too. He can feel it.

After a particularly hard thrust, Sunshine lifts his head upwards and gasps loudly like he’s coming out of the water for air. Eddie takes advantage of the angle and goes for his neck, returning the sweet kisses and licks but when he bites him back, he bites more meaningfully.

He groans with his teeth touching that beautiful skin almost hard enough to break it, questioning.

And Sunshine, with his hands still buried in Eddie’s hair pulls at it and pushes him closer to him,

“Yes, yes, do it. Taste me. Take me,” he chants.

And Eddie finally bites him and God. It’s delicious, indescribable, he’s never tasted anything like it.

Sunshine moans loudly as he comes and Eddie growls, his eyes going to the back of his head, his mouth full of blood, his senses full of Sunshine. The taste, the smell, the feeling of knowing Sunshine used him to satisfy himself, got off on him. It hits him like a train, and he comes too, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed from coming completely untouched.

The only thought in his head is:

Jeff was right. Sunshine does tastes like fucking orgasms.

He licks and kisses and mouths at where he bit him until the wound closes, the only evidence it happened is the big purple hickey left in its place and Sunshine leans on him, slowly getting his breathing back to normal.

He doesn't want to let go of him, Eddie thinks, and he unconsciously wraps his arms around his waist and holds him close.

But Sunshine isn't moving either, his arms are around Eddie’s neck, his body still occasionally shivering and he’s humming, sighing, moaning, making all kinds of cute, soft little sounds.

Fuck. He really doesn’t want to leave him.

He didn’t even get to see him completely naked. All that golden skin and moles and hair. He wants that, he wants to touch him. To taste the heat he felt on his thigh, see how wet he got, bite him all over.

It occurs to Eddie that he doesn’t even know his name and his heart breaks a little. He doesn’t even know what music he likes, or what his favorite food is. Fuck. He just wants to know his favorite color.

He’s completely fucked.

Desperate to do something before he just starts weeping, he sighs and leans back a little to look at Sunshine’s face,

“So what do you want to do now?”

Sunshine’s eyes go big and then a little sad and he bites his lips and Eddie shakes his head, backtracking a little,

“I’m not trying to get you to kick me out just so you know. I would actually love to stay,” he tells him and smiles gratefully when a small smirk appears on Sunshine’s lips. “I just wanna do whatever you want to do now,” he finishes.

“I want to kiss you,” Sunshine says, with no preamble, no hesitation, and a little desperate.

And that’s how Eddie kisses him, desperately, passionately and so fucking deep.

And after what’s definitely the best kiss of his life, Sunshine leans away and then back in to press their foreheads together and says, 

“Steve. My name is Steve.” 

“I’m Eddie.”

𝙚𝙣𝙙

part 1: 🍷

part 2: 👄

part 3: you are here

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #well boys we did it! i hope you like this <3 #i wanted something real sexy but i think i made it too romantic lol #they are soulmates ok

[strawbeelemonade]

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Imagine: going to a Garden centre/Plant Nursery with Miguel O’Hara

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

🕷 - No I don’t care if this is stupid. Yeah I just got back from a garden centre when writing this.

🕷 - They are so much fun, I don’t care if it’s a bit old person of me.

🕷 - This man is willing to do old people stuff with you.

🕷 - Your both wandering around and he keeps stopping to look a grills because it’s,,, he’d totally yearn for a grill. It’s a feeling. But he always moves on because he’d get angry at himself for wanting something domestic like that.

🕷 - He pushes around the cart.

🕷 - No get off he’s doing it.

🕷 - He will follow you, just get what you want babe.

🕷 - He’s not a plant guy, he’s never been a plant guy. But in this scenario you are DEFINITELY a plant person. So when you ask to go together he starts the car in a heartbeat.

🕷 - It’s like a little date.

🕷 - He always comes prepared. If you go in the spring or summer then you’ll definitely feel the heat.

🕷 - It hits him way harder, he’s much more sensitive in every way, so he sweats a lot more. Awooga.

🕷 - He’s got water on hand if you get thirsty. Your welcome babe.

🕷 - There are always people with dogs EVERYWHERE in these places. Watching you love on every dog you pass by makes him want to get a puppy.

🕷 - He acts like a cat, but I feel like he’s secretly a dog guy really deep down, you know.

🕷 - Every dog is obsessed with him, even if he shows no interest in petting them. it drives you up the wall.

🕷 - If anyone runs their cart into you he will beat ass.

🕷 - If anyone speaks to you disrespectfully he will beat ass.

🕷 - He is literally ready to beat so much ass at any given moment. Just because he’s nice to you doesn’t mean he’s like that with everyone else.

(I literally checked those 3 paragraphs multiple times to make sure I spelt ‘beat’ right.)

🕷 - His main personality trait is carrying heavy things for you.

🕷 - He doesn’t mind if you wanna peruse a bit… it’s ok since it’s you. He one of those people that will literally go with whatever. If your happy then he’s happy.

🕷 - He hardly gets time away from work. And his ‘night gig’ takes up a lot of his time too. Between all that and The Society… that doesn’t leave a lot of time for you. It makes him feel really guilty, So he is completely willing to do or buy whatever you’d like.

🕷 - He doesn’t understand why you keep trying to save wilting and dying plants. Why would you pay full price for a half dead orchid when there’s dozens of healthy ones right next to it??

🕷 - He doesn’t mind paying for it but he wants you to have the best. >:(

🕷 - When you both get home he’s reminded of why you do it.

🕷 - Your home is full of heathy, happy plants, nurtured by your loving hands. It’s a statement of the kind of person that you are. Full of love freely to give.

🕷 - He loves you so much.

🕷 - If your into propagating succulents he’ll point out all the random cuttings cascaded on the floor for you to grab. He likes seeing your eyes light up.

🕷 - you will leave that place with handfuls of cuttings.

🕷 - Free real estate babyyyy.

🕷 - Seeing all the kids totting along with their families makes his heart clench.

🕷 - One day you see a little boy ducking between some large pots, he seems to be hiding away from all the big shopping carts rolling by.

🕷 - Miguel sees him first, his heightened sense pick up on his nervousness almost immedietaly, but he hesitates.

🕷 - he’s not sure what to do, He doesn’t really know how to approach kids anymore.

🕷 - While he’s fighting an internal battle within himself, You swoop in.

🕷 - You ask if the kid is ok, and you take his hands and lift him out from between the stacked pots. He giggles and Miguel’s heart skips a beat.

🕷 - Miguel stands next to you awkwardly, watching in awe as you work your magic and make the kid laugh. You dry his tears and give him something to drink.

🕷 - He tells you he got separated from his mom in the confusion of all the crowd, and that he tried to stay put and wait for her to come back. You tell him how he’s such a smart boy, and that he was very brave.

🕷 - Miguel lifts him on to his shoulders silently so he can spot his parents. The man absolutely towers over all the plants. When he hears the kid giggling above him his the kid giggling above him his resting bitch face relaxes a bit.

🕷 - Miguel comes out of his shell a bit more as you both wait for his parents. The kid absolutely loves him. Miguel is starting at the sweet expression on your face as you chat with the kid and he is absolutely w i n d e d.

🕷 - has he ever told you that your really good with kids.,,

🕷 - haha.

🕷 - down bad fr.

🕷 - Then you spot Two women rushing towards you and they thank you both for finding and helping their son. And the moment is over.

🕷 - You assure them that it’s not a problem and you mention how sweet their child is.

🕷 - After you give a little wave you turn back to Miguel and he’s— wait.

🕷 - “Miggy, why are you looking at me like that?”

🕷 - “Like what, cariño?”

🕷 - Y e a r n i n g .

🕷 - Bro will literally drag you home, immedietely.

🕷 - Sorry not sorry.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

#miguel ohara #spider man #into the spider verse #spiderman #spiderman99 #spiderman 99 #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #use of Spanish petnames that I could be fumbling #sorry #this fic was made under the pretence that his daughter is dead #we all saw the trailer #she’s probably dead 💀 #I wrote this before the movie has come out so I hope I’m wrong #edit: ok so i wasn't wrong oh no

[acekindaneat]

Serirei Week !!

Day 3: firsts/love languages

Reigen finds himself speechless (rare occasion)

continuation below but it's written form !! ↓↓

Serizawa gave him a slight nod, his face unreadable but tense. He gently directed Reigen towards the couches and sat him down. Wordlessly sitting beside him, he opened the first aid kit and rummaged through it.

Reigen watches in cautious silence, eyeing his coworker's rigid movements. The cloth he used to temporarily cover the large scratch left by the spirit was starting to itch. He slowly untied the knot with his uninjured hand and peeled off the blood-soaked makeshift bandage. It was drying off, but it still looked terrible. Four large gashes across his forearm, it almost looks like a scratch from a big cat.

Serizawa shifting closer brought Reigen's attention back to him. Their eyes met for a second before Serizawa looked down at his arm with a wince. Guilt evident on his face as he wet a towel with water and started to wipe off the blood with the lightest touch he could manage. Reigen swallowed the lump in his throat, the tense silence was getting to him so he spoke up.

"This could be part of your training, you know." He lightly joked, shrugging with his unoccupied shoulder. "It's important to know first aid, especially in our line of work." Serizawa's eyebrows furrowed as a frown formed on his face, but didn't take his eyes off his work, nor did he say anything back. As soon as the blood that smeared was gone, he grabbed the disinfectant and a cotton ball.

It was gonna sting, Reigen already knew that, but he still felt his heart flutter when Serizawa glanced up at him with a sorry look and muttered, "This might sting..."

Reigen didn't miss the way Serizawa was holding his hand with his free hand. He didn't miss the way his thumb was soothing the back of his palm with light strokes. He didn't miss the way he could feel the warmth radiating off of Serizawa's body just from how close they were sitting. Reigen felt himself gulp, not sure if it was in preparation for the pain, or to force himself back to retain his composure.

He let out a small hiss and a wince, before letting it dissipate quickly upon seeing Serizawa's face look more like a kicked puppy. He knows the man felt guilty for not arriving quick enough to prevent the spirit from hurting Reigen further. It wasn't his fault though. He can't blame Serizawa, not when he looked this sorry.

Gentle, flitting hands finally wrapped the wound in a bandage and secured it carefully. When it was done, Serizawa didn't move away, but instead let his hand rest on the wrapped arm, slowly rubbing his thumb against it like it would help heal the wound faster. It might, Reigen could hope. He could hope that this moment lasts. He looked up at Serizawa with a soft look, hoping that his message came across. Please.

Serizawa looked up at Reigen's eyes with the same level of fondness. Despite what he feels, it still scares Reigen, to see someone look at him like that. He's scared of seeing it often that he'll get attached to it, attached to the fondness, attached to feeling loved.

He almost felt himself jump when Serizawa gently held his hand up and pressed Reigen's palm against his lips with closed eyes. It's like his heart stopped, his breath hitching as he inhaled sharply.

This seemed to wake Serizawa from whatever trance he was in and pulled away, his face flushed red. His gaze landed everywhere except Reigen's as he cleared his throat and gathered up the used cotton balls and the bloodied washcloth. "I'll, uhm, throw these away. I'll grab some ice for your neck.. and make you some green tea in a bit..." He paused, sparing Reigen a glance and assessing his state.

"I'm glad you're okay, Reigen.." Serizawa spoke again, then escaped to the restroom to clean his hands off. Reigen sat there staring at his palm, dumbfounded and speechless.

#serireiweek2023 #serirei #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mp100 fanart #comics #drabble #ok normal tags out of the way time to ramble #this is a bit late bc i was trying to figure out how to post this on tumblr bc of the text #but figured i'll just paste the text and edit it a bit #i havent written in a while so be nice :( #i couldn't convey what i wanted to show through comic bc i felt like i lacked skills for that #so i wrote it instead... hoping it's good . would love to hear feedback what u think of the writing #thank u i'll work on the 4th prompt later tonight #oneshot #kind of anyway #art #artists on tumblr #mi art stuff

[yellowvixen]

wait actually i'm posting this. infinite's theme and find your flame are direct parallels

like. gestures to this entire thing LOOK!!!

the meanings of the songs are obviously different, infinite's theme is like "we're alone and you're going to lose" whereas find your flame is more "i'm with my friends and we're going to win" so there's that alone vs together thing

and then of course we have infinite himself who wants to destroy the world and he uses a phantom sun at one point. and sonic fights the end (a "moon") (which wants to destroy the world) while he's super (when he's bright and burning like the sun) like do you SEE!!!! sun and moon. am i making sense

not to mention the phantom ruby's power looks similar to cyberspace, red glitches and all. listen i'm not insane about this (i am)

i am almost definitely grasping at straws but like. you see it right. there's parallels here

#sorry for the awful scribbled thing there hope u can read it fgkjhdfkjg #but like !!!!!!!! #my gf brought up the similarities months ago and i just keep thinking about it #HOW was it not on purpose. or WAS IT #in which case AUGUHGHHH #also they're sung by the same guy AND he also wrote the lyrics for undefeatable and break through it all #EXPLODES. ok. i'm ok #sth #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic frontiers #sonic forces #find your flame #infinite the jackal #vixentalks

[expelliarmus]

#mine #doctor who #dwedit #david tennant #catherine tate #:D #so hello friends i went back to work today after taking friday off sick #and now my voice is disappearing..... lovely.... :( #but!!! i'm reading this dw book called doctor who origin stories #and i'm loving it #the short story that sophie aldred wrote about ace before she met seven was so fun #and she clearly wrote it after she filmed potd since she linked in meeting thirteen #but ahhh it was great i loved it #ok guess i'll go to bed and keep reading #and hoping my voice heals overnight :(

[typenull]

While the climax of Dunmesh [here’s your warning for spoilers] gives us an extremely thorough look into Laios’s psyche and his own desires, we don’t actually know that much about Falin, despite her “death” kicking the entire story into motion. The only bits of Falin we get to see are through the lens of other characters, who inherently show us their own biased perceptions of her. I’d go as far to say that Falin is actually the character in Dungeon Meshi who’s true desires we know the least about!

We know with absolute certainty at least a few things: Falin is gifted with powerful magic, wants to follow behind and travel with her brother who she deeply respects, loves her friend Marcille, likes fruits and creams, loves insects and is curious about monsters, once again like Laios… most of the things we learn about Falin are things that she has in common with her brother, but what does SHE want, deep down? How does she feel about everything? I don’t think we’ll fully get an answer to that question before the manga is over. This is definitely on purpose though, and has even been hinted at in the text (which I’ll get to later).

In my opinion the main difference between Falin and Laios is that Falin doesn’t want to hurt anyone besides herself (for the sake of others, and she barely knows who that self is) and Laios wants to hurt anyone who he “doesn’t like” (anyone who endangers him and those he loves). Both of these feelings stem from the same shared events of their childhood where they both began to feel “disconnected” from humanity so to speak, but they reacted to it in opposite ways.

Where Laios stubbornly ran away and refused to deal with being hurt and surrounded by hurt, Falin, who we rarely see making choices based on any desires for herself (staying in the academy for 8 years after being sent by her father despite not thinking it’s for her, nearly agreeing to marry Shuro just so that she doesn’t have to deal with being asked later, etc.), doesn’t object to anything she’s subject to because the only person being “hurt” in these scenarios is herself, which to her is acceptable. She accepts the fact that she’s considered “othered” extremely easily, and this reflects openly in both her behavior and in the few things we know about her: she connects with and cares deeply for spirits despite being ostracized, admires insects and monsters like her brother, and is even fine planning to take on a job that’s revered in her hometown. To Falin, being “othered” is more normal to her than the alternative

The only people in Falin’s life that make her feel like *more* than just an outsider are Laios and Marcille. As a result Laios and Falin end up with similar sounding mindsets on the surface; "As long as [the people I love] are okay, I don't care about anything else" — but underneath, they actually manifest completely differently! Where Laios “doesn’t care about people”, Falin cares deeply about them despite barely being treated as one.

The only *active* decision from Falin we see that most obviously reflects her deepest desires is her choice to die for those she loves, which I think says a lot about her.

I think that if Laios is “a human who wants to become a monster” because he hates humans due to his past, the most obvious foil to him is Kabru, “a human who wants to destroy monsters” because of his past in Utaya (and feeling like a monster himself). Thinking of them as two ends of a spectrum, in the grey middle ground of this is where I think I’d put Falin.

She’s simultaneously a human made subhuman, a monster made to follow Thistle, a “ghost” of her former self haunting Laios and Marcille — she really IS the absolute epitome of a “chimera”.

The Lion cursing Laios was the “hinting in the text” I talked about earlier: forcing his deepest desire into something seemingly impossible to achieve, a chimera. The surface level conclusion when reading this is that Falin won’t be revived, but I seriously don’t think it’ll be that simple in the end. After all, a chimera is multifaceted.

My hope for the final chapter of Dungeon Meshi is that, *if* by some chance Falin is revived, she will finally have to grapple with not only having to look deep within herself to answer all of these things for her own sake, but also with having the one opportunity in which she chose to use any sort of agency to act upon her deepest desires not only be completely reversed, but also hurting so many people in the process. When Falin is revived in the Red Dragon arc, she doesn’t even remember sacrificing herself for her friends — but she promises Laios to never do it again, falling back into her typical submissive obedience. How would she react the second time? Will we even get to know? Something tells me, probably not.

#dungeon meshi spoilers #Oh big whoop the guy whos name is chimera is fascinated by the chimera #Anyway i wrote all of this to say reducing falin to ‘haunting the narrative’ is to reduce her to nothing. thanks #I wrote this like an article on my website so just pretend i’m well enough to be on my pc ok ? #I hope the last page of dungeon meshi is falin opening her eyes and then the story ends #dm #dungeon meshi #falin touden

[theloveinc]

I wanna read the showing bakugo ur boobies for the first time thing 🥺

this is all i got

-

"Show me."

Bakugo glares at you from where he’s sat on the edge of the bed, torso leaned back, eyes that deep red now narrowed into pretty, black slits. You feel naked under his gaze, consumed, and yet the only thing that’s come off so far is the thin, white T-shirt you were wearing during dinner. 

(And his, the scar on the skin above his heart soft and pink.)

You shrug, turning in on yourself as your arms move to shield the skin that’s left barely covered by your bra. He’s never seen your boobs before, not that he hasn’t been interested, just that he’s always respected your hesitance.

It's a new relationship. It's new for you in general. For him, too.

"I will, I will, just... they're a little..." 

You pause, he interrupts. 

“Say it.”

"You know...” you gesture, eyes flitting everywhere but to his face, his spread thighs, and his… crotch, tight with stretched fabric, “…weird."

“Weird? Fuckin’ weird?” Bakugo pulls his lip up, eyebrows shooting to the top of his forehead in (what is so unlike him,) bewilderment. “Baby, my dick’s already hard. Whatever you got is good, I can promise.”

He leans forward, the tent in his pants tilting as he shoves a finger into your waistband and tugs your hips closer to his face. 

“Kat!” you whine, wiggling in his grasp, fighting against a force that cannot be fought against (lest your clothing rip or even worse, you run away and he lets you go). His hands creep up your sides, gentle enough to be stopped but steady in their path now that you’re standing between his legs.

“C’mon,” he rasps, not quite a beg but about as close as you’ll ever get, his bottom lip curled in one of the smallest pouts you’ve ever seen. He stares up at you, his chin brushing against your sternum, as a thumb finds a clasp and starts toying with it. “Lemme see.” 

You purse your lips, a hundred questions left unanswered at the tip of your tongue, about a thousand more insecurities exhaled in your breath... but nod, anyway. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let him undress you (more gentle than he's ever been)... then peak, just once, to find that he is already grinning.

#bakugo #bakugou x reader #bye. #this was edited tho the original was a lot more patchy #i wrote l*st blown slits LMAOOO reading that again i was like. ok no. #asdkjfajsdk anywyayyy #i wanna take a shower and im sad bc my ebt wasn't approved so NO MORE #but i hope this was good #bakugo likes them #caitie post #anon #caitie things #gen #i need to fix my tags good jesus

[hcdragonwrites]

Good Memories

(a @semisolidmind Twice as Bad Au Fic)

Ok I wrote another one. This one I focused more on Wukongs perspective ! A happier memory, a happier moment- even in this twisted and messed up bad ending. Because there has to be some sweet moments … right ?

Inspired by this ask!

The noise of the stone corridor was quiet. The silence was a peaceful breath of welcome here where Peaches hardly got a moment of true peace. The roar of the waterfall drowned much conversation here so the foot traffic of the mountains subjects was lessened. Except for the patrols of troops, the top ranking officials and guards, the eyes here were light.

A chance to escape had come. Of course escape wasn’t to leave the mountain. Peaches had learned that long ago. To attempt to get down the mountain- to get to the sea that kissed the beaches below- was foolhardy. She had tired once. Once in that far away time when the trauma of abduction has been fresh, when the desire to be anywhere but here drover her to staying awake at night and planning.

Now, years later, the escape was not to leave Flower Fruit Mountain. Though she desperately longed to do such a thing. Hope though was a hard bird to kill even when caged and clipped. So, to circumvent the need to escape- to release some of the pent up agitation- she had found another way to escape.

The patrol passed the alcove Peaches had huddled herself into without a look. She waited. One. Two. Three. Once they rounded the bend she made her move. Peaches snuck out of one of the many side entrances of Water Curtain Cave. She slunked from shadow to tree, avoiding the eyes as best she could. Once beyond the courtyard, beyond the orchards she felt her spirit take wing. It was the bubble of freedom that she had to take as medicine for the true longing she couldn’t - wouldn’t- ever feel.

Not as long as she had her husbands about.

Like a horse turned to pasture, Peaches kicked up her own heels and ran. She ran for the joy of it and for the enjoyment of it. She let herself believe that she was back in the village. That she was back in her home, beneath its peach trees and with its terribly creaking timbers. That this was only a jaunt out to the woods to enjoy the day foraging and finding morsels.

It was a delusion but it was like a balm to her soul. Too much time inside the mountain and among the talks of conquests and bloodshed dampened her. Her husbands never demanded that she attend councils between other Immortals or Demons but Peaches knew when she attended there was far less work for the servants to do. For one, there was less blood to be cleaned from the stone floors. Of course it would take some of her own energy to be apart of these conversations.

Peaches would dress in the courtly and lordly garments bestowed upon her by The Monkey King and The Six Eared Macaque. Gifts they called them. Blood gifts, Peaches knew. Dressing the part as Queen always put the two demonic monkeys into better moods. Of course, whenever she was present it also became a game of keeping.

This game all depended upon the placement of the two heads of Flower Fruit Mountain. They always were placed in strategic spots- to better intimidate or to better please whatever guest they were entertaining. If there was a demon of hungry standing there was always roasted meat and wine a plenty to drink upon. These times, Sun Wukong would be seated closest to the doors. If she entered the room he would catch her wrists, her hand, her waist. Those claws would grip and tug, and she would be in his lap. Wukong would keep her there. If the King was in the middle of a conversation he would simply stop and lavish compliments upon her. Wukong was more of a earnest love then his darker counterpart. She would be forced to stay in his lap, feeling his hands and the soft admonishments if she tried to move, as the conversation continued.

Peaches wished she could have said it was always unpleasant. In the years of captivity, in the moments of stuck between hope and despair, she had come to find a balance of some sort. After so long being molded and worn down by their attentions, Peaches had begun to tolerate the attention. Wukongs attentions helped establish her as something of importance and a person not to be touched. It helped when those demons had an inclination for human flesh.

Too many times she had been told not to touch the food, the meat, when it was presented on the council table.

If the sworn brothers were entertaining an immortal being with no bloodlust for humans the positioning was different. More lax in some ways but no less imposing. Sometimes Peaches would be able to actually sit in a seat beside or between the monkeys. Other times, Wukong would claim her to his lap and tug and tease at her, a game to turn her to blushing of what things he would whisper into her ear. And, in those moments when Wukong did not claim her it was Macaque who stole her into his seat. He was more touching, less outwardly loud praise. But still enough to burn her cheeks, to make her wish to dissolve.

Water Curtain Cave fell behind her as Peaches rushed forward into the woods and away from her husbands. Macaque was away, on some errand or other again. Wukong would be occupied until late into the evening. A conglomerate of would be allies wished to pledge themselves to the King today, and it would take much of her rowdy husbands time and energy to entertain. It would also boost his ego and, with no worry of bloodshed (unless someone was foolish enough to insult) Peaches had taken her leave.

She rarely got moments alone and she laughed, some of the tension sloughing off like snow in a spring melt.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sun Wukong rarely had patience with beings that held incompetence. He was seated in his spot in the council room, upon his golden gilded throne. The warlord was in full regalia, armour polished to a blinding sheen and staff set beside him. However all the splendour about Wukong couldn’t distract from the loathsome thing huddled at the foot of his dais, blubbering and sniffling like a slug.

The demonic monkey felt his teeth grind and clip in his mouth as the weakling worm of a dragon sniffled and bowed its head in a kowtow. Disgusting. This beast had come asking him to slay his brothers and sisters in the western sea so he could be appointed heir. Wukong raked his eyes over the diminutive fellow, taking stock.

Scales as thin as moonbeams. Teeth as square as a cows. Mane bedraggled and unclean. How filthy. This little worm couldn’t even clean himself before grovelling for my help.

A poor ally if he choose to anger dragons in an ocean a world away. Weak of claw and fang.

“It’s obvious you cannot even keep yourself fit let alone keep a kingdom if I gave it to you.”Wukong waved his hand, bored. “Leave my sight. Maybe once you’ve actually wet your muzzle and had a scrap or two I’ll consider. Get out.”

“But -“

Was this Dragon also weak of hearing? Was it slow of wit? He had dismissed the stupid beast. His eyes flashed.

“Get. Out.”

The thing moved now, scattering loose scales in its speed to escape. They fell like toenail clippings and Wukong hissed in disgust. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and felt the patience in his body diminish. The king raised a bell and gave it a ring, summoning several servants - not monkeys these creatures were those foolish demons that had imposed themselves in the paths of Flower Fruit Mountains conquests- to clean up the mess of scales.

Wukong had a full itinerary for the day. He had already met with his southern vassals and those positioned in the East. They were reporting movement from a would be upstart exorcist, one that deemed himself a demon slayer. A blood hungry pup. If it was blood he craved then Wukong would deliver it to him. He had set Macaque to the East, tasking him with bringing the man to heel. He had given his brother free reign. If the six eared demon wanted, Wukong wouldn’t stop him from making the exorcist into a gift - of flesh. Maybe I should have sent this whining worm to the East. Macaque would have shown him the ropes of turning an enemy into a boon.

“Foolish idiots.” Wukong grumbled, irritated. The other appointments had been his people which he took gladly. His own residents of the mountain were precious to him. They only asked for the numbers to help in the forest grove harvest. It was apple harvesting time and some of the trees were showing signs of damage from the deer and other beasts. The other group had been some now turned immortals begging for teaching in the east of shape changing. Wukong had dispatched them with ease, tossing their heads to the sea. He would send their corpses off to the visiting Swallow Heart- an upstart creature with a good three hundred beastly birds- as a peace offering.

His mood would have been better if his Wife had attended his talks. Wukong had kept glancing to the side, looking to the opulent doors and hoping they would open. Or her scent would waft in from the corridor, announcing her approach. Wukong felt his mouth salivate a bit at the thought of her. Oh he was lucky. His little Peach. Wukong and Macaques of course. Not just his morsel. Though today… with Macaque away. ..

She was all his to adore and hold and to make squirm with his praises and his demands.

“Trouble my King?”

An attendant asked of him, waking him from his daydreams. The monkey was by his side, face curled in worry. Wukong let the thinly held patience fall away as he gave into rubbing his head. Too much courtly affairs. He usually didn’t mind the task. In fact, he enjoyed pitting his mind against that of the estate he ran, the duty he held. Wukong had an iron will for ruling. He enjoyed the fruits of that labour, the rewards of conquest. One of the best rewards was here in the caves, walking the halls all alone …

“Trouble that can be easily cast off.”

Thoughts of his Peaches, and the irritation of his last meeting, decided it for him. Wukong rose out of his throne and stretched. Though he was a monkey originally of stone it didn’t mean he didn’t get sore in his throne. Popping his back, Wukong motioned to the door. “Walk with me.”

“Yes my King.” The servant walked beside Wukong as he stalked down the Halls. His people dipped and bowed. The servants who had been brought to the mountain and had been forced to serve kept their eyes downcast. Wukong paid them no heed. He had one goal.

“Peaches!” Wukong sang through the palace. He looked in her usual haunts. She had a tendency to stick to habit and Wukong made it his goal to know all of his little sweets habits and places of hiding. The kitchens, the scroll rooms, the bedroom and other such places deep beneath the mountains stone.

“Peaches?” Wukong now questioned. Usually she was so near he could hear and track her just from knowledge of her habitual motions. But there was a lack of her today in Water Curtain Cave.

“Where has my wife gotten to?” He mused aloud. Wukong would have been more worried in the early days of her life on the mountain. Peaches had a tendency back then to plot and scheme and attempt every sort of trickery to escape the brothers. She had tried tricking (Macaque had been present for that one where he had kept her trapped in a riddle game for hours), sneaking (again a foolish thing due to the number of ears between her husbands numbered eight), drugging (Wukong had thought it cute to see her try and ply him with so much wine he became inebriated. That had led to … other things however.) and finally just running.

Running had led to chasing. Wukong had tried to terrorize her just a small bit to discourage the action. Having her run off while he was in the middle of meeting and for him to rise and say “Excuse me gentlemen” and then rush off had first been an inconvenience. He would never punish his Peaches. No, never. When he talked of the terror it had been more to scare her of what could snatch her up. Tigers, leopards, wolves and their ilk. Taking her back to their rooms and tucking her in and locking the door was the most he did. If he had time, if he could ignore the work of the day he would wear her out in other ways. It would either be both or one and the other who would keep her attention. Wukong was a King but he wasn’t a tyrant.

This didn’t deter his little wife. She seemed … more determined, however, to attempt it. Peaches had learned over the years that running away was useless but that didn’t stop her from taking to flights of fancy. Which lead to a different kind of chasing. A pursuit that called to the raging hunger inside him, to that predator. Peaches had given him and Macaque a new game- a game he craved almost as much as he craved her scent in his nose and her body in his arms.

After opening their closet and seeing the small little nest she kept in there empty as well, Wukong felt his tail give an excited lash. The fur on his spine began to rise up in anticipation. It practically shook through his blood. Made his mouth grin and his body begin to buzz as if drunk upon fruit wine.

“A game is afoot. A game all for myself~” Usually these games of hide and seek with their wife became a race between him and his sworn brother. Macaque would enjoy the competition as he had a unfair disadvantage. His keen hearing compounded on his shadow ability let him take a lead that Wukong wouldn’t be able to close normally. But with his brother away from the mountain… Wukong laughed to himself, beginning to shed his courtly attire.

“Do you require anything, my king?” The servant asked from his shoulder. Wukong passed the servant his crown and those few glittery vestments he bore to impress the lesser demons who came to grovel for his power.

“Clear the rest of my meetings for the evening.” Wukong commanded. Where could my sweet have gone off to? To the grove? The stream? Did she perchance head to the woods? The thought of the hunt was already consuming his mind.

“My King that would mean dismissing the Swallow Heart Demon and his Entourage.” The servant set the items delicately on Peaches armoire, being careful to not tip any of the bottles, brushes or powders there. Macaque had sent for that armoire for their Wife. It had cost a pretty penny to have it brought in with the paints and brushes.

It was a warm memory in Wukongs mind, seeing the pure delight in her eyes. That night had been filled with the boys teaching her how to use the more expensive bits of makeup and had led to her learning to paint war paint upon their faces. The warm memory set a second shiver up his spine. When he caught Peaches he wouldn’t let her go- he would let her know how much he cherished her. The happy memories of her face were becoming more numerous now. It set his tail to swaying like a cat who had caught a canary.

“They are birds yes? Tell them to find another place to roost for the evening.” Wukong stretched his legs one at a time. He waved one hand to the servant, trying to rush the discussion along. He had a wife to find.

“I will meet them in the morning when my mood returns to better and more … harmonious thoughts.” All he could see in his head was her. Her skin shining in the light, her hair in his hands so soft. The rush of feeling hit him low in the gut. Was it love ? Was it possessiveness ? Was it possession? He didn’t know but it had his heart thundering. To think a mortal women could bring such a change through him so rapidly…

“I will see it done sir.” The servant bowed.

“Good.” Wukong stretched his arms, pulled his back straight. He had removed all but the trousers he wore. The glory of Sun Wukong had been set aside. Armour wouldn’t slow him- he was the Sage that had rebelled against Heaven. Had almost won. Armour was little hinderance in his silence or his ability to move. It would however limit him to capturing his intended target. Peaches was soft, pliable and would not like a tackle from her husband if he was wrapped all in his battle regalia.

He bounced on his heels. The excited energy wanted to be unleashed, to be set free. Wukong left the servant in their rooms, swiftly walking to the entrance of Water Curtain Cave. His generals saw him and bowed, continuing their rounds. Smaller monkeys, the children of his people came and clambered for his attention. He smiled at them and turned them back to their mothers promising attention later.

The waterfall came into sight and Wukong grinned. Just like he had when he first had been crowned King, the monkey lord bent low a palm pressed to the floor and launched himself through the torrent of water. He was out on the other side in a spray of water. Once on the ground again he looked, listened, smelled.

Wukong was an expert tracker. He could read the signs of his mountainous home. He knew every blade of grass every bend of the leaf in the trees above. Wukong looked for the signs, the telltale notes his wife would leave so lovingly in nature for him to find. There ,beneath the shadow of a tree. Wukong moved swiftly and lightly, faster then the long spotted cats to the far west. The press of foot too large to be a monkey, to heavy to be a cat.

I got you~

Wukong followed her path, enjoying the exertion and the feel of the sun on his fur.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peaches had found herself a nice little patch in the wood, a small trickle of a stream ran through a copse of tightly packed willows. It had a few gooseberry bushes in its shade and she plucked them eagerly.

She had brought her small bit of knitting, a book, and a change of clothing if she wanted to take a dip in the water. The gooseberry’s were a plus, having been ripened and their red flesh sweet. Peaches didn’t have a snack- running into the kitchens would have alerted the staff she was going out and she did not want a retinue of guards on her tail. It was nice and pleasant to be alone. Hearing the soft babble of the water over the stones, the wind sighing in the leaves. It was peaceful. She could fall asleep. In fact a nap didn’t sound bad—

Snap.

Her head snapped up, eyes widening. That had been too loud to be a simple little bird or just the sound of a branch falling from the wind. She felt her calm wash away in a rush of icy fear. Though Flower Fruit Mountain was possibly the safest place in the world, it did still have the occasional predator. Bear or tiger were the largest creatures to have been spotted on the mountain. Wukong and Macaque assured that the worst of those beasts kept to the lower plains of the mountain.

But what if— what if I went too low?

Her ears strained, her eyes blown wide to see. Nothing revealed itself from the emerald green foliage or the berry bushes. Her hair stood on end as something shuffled in the undergrowth. Behind her. Peaches spun, holding a knitting needle out—

To air.

Another brushing sound, like that of claws across wood. Peaches took a step back, away from the sound. Her heart was in her throat and all the peace of the day was gone in the rush of animal instinct that screamed in her mind.

Freeze of Fly?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sun Wukong followed her trail easily to the copse of trees. His Peaches had much to learn if she wished to our pace him in his tracking ability. The path she took was such a massive trail he could see it from miles away. The demonic monkey crouched low, keeping close to the earth.

She was sitting next to the little stream at the foot of a great willow. His Peaches. Her fingers were red with gooseberry juice, her hair down in the heat. She was the picture of peaceful, the very image of serenity. Wukong felt a desire to grab her to hold her close, to take the juice of the berries off her fingers and hear her laughter and voice.

Gods he craved her.

He held off leaping, held off and observed. Magic would make it easier to drop in on her but he liked the challenge of keeping his current shape. So Wukong lay low, watching. The brothers had a practice of watching their Peaches when she thought she was alone. It was in those moments they learned the most about their mortal heart. How she would sigh, how she always got itchy if she wore too much of the powder upon her face. It was how Wukong learned Peaches preferred bangles over rings. How Macaque gleaned that her favourite foods involved a doughy treat called cinnamon rolls. Little things. Silly things. Treasured things that the brothers would go over and strategize on how to make their precious fruit the most comfortable. To win her favour. Her love. Her attention.

Sometimes she would cry in these moments and the game would have to be put on hold as they made themselves known beyond her field of vision. Wukong hated when she was upset. He knew, somewhere in his twisted heart, that he had caused these tears. That he was to blame for the sorrow that weighed heavy on her.

I can make her happy. No one else saw her sparkle like we did. She’s ours. Forever if I have my way.

But right now he had a game he was in the middle of. The immortal peach he was keeping for her would have to wait. Wukong stalked forward, through the brush. Peaches had laid herself back, body flat to earth and completely relaxed.

Wukong took a branch in his hands and snapped it.

His Peaches lifted herself up and whipped her head in the direction. Wukong had already moved, speed on his side as he circled beyond and behind her. The terror on her face made something stir in him, a protective urge. He would sooth her worry when he caught her. He would pet her hair, hold her close and tell her how foolish she was to leave his safe embrace. She had nothing to fear from him. Only his little sweet fruit didn’t know it was him. Not yet at least.

Wukong let his tail tussle the dead leaves beside him then darted off. He raked his claws over a bit of bark and then zagged back to a new hiding spot. Peaches turned like a doe, alert and eyes wide. Her face was full of fear, full of such open prey-like terror that Wukong couldn’t resist anymore. He rumbled, mimicking the sound of a big cat. Sweet Peaches stared right at the spot he was hiding.

Run little wife, he urged. Come on. Run for me.

At his second snarl, she obliged him. She spun her back to him and took several vain attempts to run. Wukong smirked. And leapt.

He caught her in several bounds barreling full into her body and taking her off her feet. His hand had her by the back of the neck, the other about her middle. They rolled in the air but Wukong angled himself, curling her into him and taking most of the fall. Peaches cry rang in the trees and sent the birds flying. Wukongs laughter was loud and shook through his body as he landed with her. The demon caged her in, setting her hips between his legs so he straddled her. One hand had both her wrists held above her head. The other angled her face to him, the eyes firmly shut.

“Caught you~” He purred.

“WUKONG!” Peaches gasped, opening her eyes to stare right into his face. Wukong felt his heart give a squeeze as the fear melted into ease. Ease with him. It sent a trill of joy up his spine. “You gave me a heart attack. I thought you were some tiger.”

“No love.” Wukong mentally took note of her. No scrapes from their tumble, no bruises. A perfect capture. “A tiger wouldn’t have toyed with you like I did.” Here he stretched his free hand, claws on display.

Peaches laughed. A laugh for him. His tail was swaying, his face inching closer to hers. “I’m glad I’m not getting devoured then.” She said, breath still catching up with her shock.

“Oh my Peaches, I may not be a tiger but I’m going to devour you all the same~” he let the words sink into her, enjoying the blush that coloured her face before he bent down and kissed her. She tasted of gooseberries, of laughter and the earth and ever of peaches. Her lips were soft against his. Wukong moved away from her mouth, wanting to taste her throat, her cheeks, her nose. Kisses he planted along her most ticklish spot on her neck, eliciting giggles and cries of mercy.

The Monkey King felt like he was drinking wine, head getting lighter and lighter while his body relaxed over hers. Only with Peaches had he felt so at peace, so blissful. It’s why he could never let her go. To rob himself of this? Never. She was his and he was hers and that was it.

Peaches pressed a kiss to his nose and he swooped back down to capture her lips. How could someone so soft and small consume me so? He felt starved. He felt parched. Here Peaches was, a bountiful feast and and overflowing cup. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Wukong nipped her neck, tugging her into his teeth to elicit a squeal. She laughed and tried to worm her way out of his grip. “Wukong please! Let me up, let me up!”

“Only when you tell me how well I caught you. Lavish praises on me.” He grumbled. He didn’t want to let her out of his arms. If he could he would keep her here and live in this bubble of joy forever. Peaches blew hair out of her face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“I assure you I’m not. So tell me.”

“Wukong your pride is insufferable.”

“And your beauty is unconquerable.” He countered and was rewarded with a scarlet Peach. “Now tell me.”

“Ugh. You caught me. You startled me so badly I thought I had gone too low on the mountain.” That had Wukong grinning wide as he now rolled over taking her onto his chest.

“Go on~”

A snort. Peaches was open in only the brief times when his and Macaques earnest attentions had worn down her barriers and aversions to nothing. Here was his adoring and adorable wife. One he wanted to bring treasures and conquer worlds for. I would burn this whole place to the ground to please you.

They spent a time there, the two of them in that grove of trees. Wukong kissed the gooseberry juice from her fingers and Peaches tried to see the good in this moment. Wukong was, a murderer. He was a monster who had taken her from her village. He had killed the villagers. Laying on his arm, feeling his voice and laughter in her body, seeing the tender way he held and touched her…

His love was hard to deny. To match up to the truth she knew so well. He was a murder. The soft glow as his eyes alighted when a butterfly landed on his hand. Wukong would kill again. He set the butterfly on her hand and they both marveled at the changing colors.

Peaches felt a bit more of her resolve break. Wukong and Macaques love was an ocean slamming into her. It was eroding the coastal cliffs she had within her. It had been a constant, driving force these years. She didn’t … she couldn’t remain so indifferent in the wake of such attention. Of such open love. She would never fully be at peace here. However … she was finding a balance.

Maybe that was the closest she would be to the love she originally had showered them both in. Or maybe she would fall head first into that roaring surface and loose herself in their love.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wukong tugged the brush through Peaches hair, listening to her sing softly in the night air of their bedroom.

Suddenly- the ground became black and Peaches squealed as she disappeared into the earth—

—and popped up in Macaques arms.

“Save some of her for me, Wukong.” Macaque drawled, hands wrapped around her middle in a possessive gesture. They were back in their room, the night air wafting cool tonight. Wukong and Peaches had spent the rest of the day in that copse of trees and upon the mountain. They had walked hand in hand, visited the monkeys and the new babies that had been born to the family’s farthest from the caves.

It had been a day of sweet gestures and, whenever Peaches had turned eyes inward or far off, he had pressed her with tender affection. Drawing her back to the present. If Wukong had learned anything over the decade it was to keep his Peaches in the present, to keep her away from the drifting worry of the past.

They had returned home only when the first stars had begun to spark in the dark sky. Wukong had carried his tired wife all the way back to Water Curtain Cave. He whispered how he would make a necklace of the stars and give them to her and teased out of her sleepy laughs.

Maybe tomorrow will be full of hardships. Maybe she will hate me for what I did. This though- I would kill a thousand villages if I could get a single day of joy like this.

Macaque had returned shortly after dinner, coming into their room to Wukong holding Peaches in his arms and biting more of her neck between brushes. Of course Mac had wanted a bit of her to himself after being gone for a day. Wukong obliged, not bothered one bit.

His brother in arms was still dressed in armour meaning he had probably just arrived back from the East. Not a speck of blood was on his clothing. Wukong would ask him later about how the trip went, when Peaches was asleep. This moment was meant to be a memory of joy. He would not drag kingly duties into this moment.

“I caught her fair and square.” Wukong sniffed, growing a bit jealous at Macaque. He had stolen his prize from beneath his nose- right when he was getting to Peaches too, in her sleepy state. Macaque blinked then stared between the two, his purple eyes flashing.

“You played the game without me?” Wukong heard the bit of hurt and, though he was sure part of it was drummed up for sympathy, felt a bit of guilt. Only a splinter of it. He didn’t regret acting on his own. The game was his to play when he was away. However it had the desired effect on their Wife.

“Oh Mac- no I didn’t know Wukong would be coming after me.” Peaches was so easily guilt tripped. She kissed the darker demons cheek. The sudden flash of confusion and delight passed over Macaque features. His eyes stole towards Wukong, questioning.

Is she happy? Is she giving without teasing? Wukong nodded, the smile on his face like the soft warm dawn. Peaches was happy and that’s all that mattered. She was happy and would give to them.

“He did have a full schedule of meetings.” She bemused. “What.. happened to them?”

“I cleared my evening.”

“Of course you did.” Macaque snorted, half heartedly irritated. His fingers were already brushing through Peaches hair, grooming.

“Nothing was getting done beyond my latest meeting.” At the raised eyebrow of his six eared brother, Wukong waved a hand. “I’ll tell you later but for now- why don’t we have another game of tag.”

“A-another one?” Peaches sat up a bit, looking outside to the dark and moonlight beyond.

“Well you owe Macaque a chance to catch you. And I want to compete again. We will give you … thirty minutes.” Wukong grinned. “No going outside. Just find one of your hidey holes in the Palace, Love.”

“What if I’m too tired for this game?” She pouted and Wukong smirked. Seeing her pout brought the urge to tug her close and erase that pout from her lips all the stronger. He had been hoping she would say it. It’s why he had one of his chefs cooking a very special sweet treat.

“If you play you’ll get a reward~” Wukong crooned.

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s innocent. I have some delicious sweets being made as a treat. Just a few short rounds and all of them can be yours.”

“Are they …. Cinnamon rolls?”

The Monkey King felt like he had caught her all over again. “Yes”

“… two games. Then no more. I’m tired..”

Macaque kissed her temple and set her free. “Go on darling. When I find you first I will tell you of the sights I saw.”

“You have to get to her first brother.” Wukong challenged. When he got to Peaches he would make her laugh again, demand kisses and more.

“And I will!” The six eared demon grinned eyes flashing. Peaches stood a bit uncertainly until Macaque leaned forward and gave a kiss to her temple.

“Go Peaches. And don’t stop running till you are in one or both of our arms.”

Peaches ran.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #hcfanfics #twice as bad au #fanfic for semisolid #OK THIS ONES A BIT HAPPIER #I Hope i still captured the boys. #I wanted to write something more of a happy memory- even though in this bad end I don’t think there’s too many #did I make Peaches like cinnamon rolls ? yes #also I use peaches because it is nicer then using y/n. it just feels better #jttw au #jttw fanfic #jttw x reader #six eared macaque #this is the only SEM I let slide past me that I like #the other ones I know (stares at Kiri and Kaiju) are bastards #not saying this Macaque can’t be - but like. at least he has a redeeming quality. #wrote this with music yes. lord Huron love like ghosts was for the end but. #for the first part it was Rule27 drunk on pride by Fish in a Bird Cage #the best helped keep the tempo for what I wanted to convey #semi if I didn’t get it right tell me I will LEGIT FIX IT #I just have been meaning to write for you again but I got bogged down with stuff #good luck with college btw #yes this one’s more Wukong centric #sorry you Macaque lovers #it would have been too long to write if I included both of them #maybe I do a seperate one for y’all #jttw tag #bad end wukong #jttw sun wukong

[zhongrin]

@rowavolo ! @lychniis ! @faesther ! @xianyoon ! @vennnnn-diagram ! @abyssmal-skies ! @baizhusangel ! @silentmoths ! @cerberuscaeli ! @dustofthedailylife ! @silkjade ! @soleillunne ! @average-yandere-enjoyer ! @navxry ! @the-travelling-witch ! @2broschlininahotub ! @mochinon-yah ! @queen-belial

🎤 someone has something to say about you... »»

― 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜ˎˊ˗

multibloggers, use the blog names i tag you in, ok? ᰔᩚ

landscape view for best results! if it looks scuffed on your phone's web browser, it might be best to view from pc...

tumblr username data will only be stored locally on your devices.

if the ui glitches somehow, try refreshing the page.

feel free to link to this page for your selfship blogs, if any! to auto-select, just copy the url and add ?tumblrUsername={{yourtumblrusername}} at the end of the link. e.g. ?tumblrUsername=zhongrin

‧₊˚❀༉ ー coded by yours truly ᡣ𐭩. resources (c) hoyoverse and downloaded from honeyhunterworld. dividers by @cafekitsune ー ‧₊˚.

#rin uses her programming skill to have fun #rin selfships #i apologize in advance if the extra voiceline i wrote didn't align with your lore or relationship dynamic hsldkjfklsdf #i had minimal exposure to some of these selfships so i might have interpreted things wrongly ;w; #anyway thank you for enabling my silly ᰔᩚ #i hope this made you smile or something shdklfjskldjf #ok i go to bed now i'm embarrassed somehow hsdlkjfksld bye 🙈 #ps. super secret you didn't hear it from me but apparently if you type in 'zhongrin' as a username you get zhongrin lore. i know... crazy.. #/silly #rin's treasure box #(note to self: check rb comments ueueue)

[smoosnoom]

corollary

“Okay,” Mike echoes. “So, I was – thinking. We should sleep together." Will, for some reason, still looks lost, but he looks cute – sweet, like that, pink cheeks and eyes wide and glossy and the slight furrow of his eyebrows like Mike has given him something outlandish. “I,” he starts, “don’t understand.”

Mike proposes a sleepover.

Unsurprisingly, no sleeping is done.

#hello again . #i was literally supposed to have this out hours ago BUT SUDDENLY everyone decided my house was the number one hang out spot . so #anyway ! now its here . and i can rest #knowing everyone will read this and forget abt me in the next two days #everyone except my Friends . im kissing all of u . #ok anyway #onto the tags . why do i always stall for the tags oh my god #byler #byler fic #byler fanfic #umm #mike wheeler #its his pov ! #will byers #ok well thats all . #hope everyone likes it Smiley emoji #unless u hate it #which . fair . but pls be nice to me #i wrote thsi in a haze i dont remember half of it ill be real with u #and then i was editing and i was like What is this . who said this . where was i . #um anyway #OK ENOUGH . why do the tags always get out of his hand like this #ok byebye for real now ! #magic

[saltwater-selfships]

The bed shifted slightly as you felt a weight behind you. Common sense only decided it was F/O finally winding down for the night and finding their spot beside you.

You didn't say a word, no indication you even realized they were there. Something was wrong.

You tried to hide it throughout the day and now lacked the energy required. Your walls were crumbling already, the slightest push and-

"S/I?"

You looked back at them, eyes full of fatigue.

They knew the answer but asked anyway, "you ok?"

You gave a slight and very unconvincing nod before turning back over. Tears burned at your eyes. You knew they meant the best but the very idea of talking right now felt like a challenge.

If you could just fall asleep before you broke-

You flinched as two arms quickly wrapped around you, holding you tight and close.

That was the final straw.

Tears finally began falling as you desperately attempted to silence your small sobs and regain your composure. They only held you tighter as your breathing became more ragged.

"You don't have to act like you're ok all the time. You're allowed to break."

Their words only pushed you further, you'd been pent up for far too long and every negative emotion had finally found it's way out.

They pressed their forehead against the back of your head for that small bit of extra comfort, "don't worry, S/I."

"I got you."

#is it obvious that I was not ok when I wrote this lmao #this was originally a personal fic but i felt the need to edit it some and make it available to any fellow selfshippers going through it #i hope someone finds some comfort in this #f/o imagines #imagine your f/o #romantic f/o #f/o #f/o x s/i #selfship imagines #comfort character #self ship community

[storytellering]

still on that redrawing binge, this time I redid my first Dante art - this time with a lot more Gremlin Hell Twink flavour

#dmc #devil may cry #dante #dmc3 #devil may cry 3 #my art #ooops forgot to post my art to tungle for a hot min sorry #have a few of backlog hope you don't mind #anyway i like this one better even though i feel like it looks... lazier? #like the shading feels less detailed than in the original one #BUT i didn't have a good grasp on dante at all back in the day #not his character nor his appearance #made him look far too big and beefy for 3D #and i didnt really have a story for it just (ok but what if dante) #this one feels more like specifically V's idea of the dante he remembers #overlarge grin with too many teeth balls to the wall fuck attitude and all #a terrifying creature basically #also i wrote art works instead of art warks on the guns in the first one. that bothered me for ages beacause its incorrect in 3 kdfjhdkh

[marciliedonato]

YOU SURRENDER YOUR HEART, I SURRENDER EVERY DREAM

Credit

#He looks sooooo dreamy in the 1st one.... Hi #mcr #My Chemical Romance #Gerard Way #My chem #Mcr return #Return era #Didn't post this earlier bc I was having chem tutoring i hope this hasn't been posted 🥴 #Mcrmelbourne2 #The way I wrote surrender the night instead of your heart.... I was sleepy ok #That's the song I was just sleepy and forgot to change it

[corpsentry]

april 28

now that i have caught your attention with the largeness of my deltoids. april 28. 6:30 and 8:30 pm est. my senior dance showcase (livestream link forthcoming). it will have taiko and spoken word and modern dance and jeff the livestream guy at the helm, if he likes me. it will be the best thing i have ever made. save the date

#i am so fucking excited about this i am going to shatter the barrier between my irl self and my online life #i haven’t hyperfixated this hard on anything since that 50k atsuhina royalty au june and i wrote in 2020 and boy am i ready to go #it’s going to be kind of wild i think. i think it might make people cry. i hope it does. i hope it makes people want to live #or something else really fucking ambitious. but this is a fucking ambitious piece of art so that’s ok #we’re going all in. no butt plugs. all plugs unplugged. stoppers unstopped. balls released #see you in 6 weeks #gelmo #life updates #in the meantime please pray for my sleep schedule #which is fucked