#but at least i wrote something

[aceofwonders]

my brain: i should write something

my brain: *writes in first person present*

me: wtf is this?!

#like it's ok i guess but idk why that happened lmao #it's not quite the vibe i wanted for the voice of the mc so i'm gonna redo it later #but at least i wrote something #i really did the whole “my name is BLANK and...” #like wut lmao #nancy talks

[neonhairspray]

Pleasure Little Treasure.

Author's Note: I seriously don't know how did it happen and what is this. But it is ...something. I had to let it out of my system ok? I guess that's what being woken up from your nap + being horny does to you.

Even though it is not specified who I had in mind while writing about the male character it is very much based on a real guy. One of my crushes to be exact. There are clues that might tell you who it is, but if they are to subtle I'd say imagine whoever you want (;

Warnings: Bad grammar and punctuation, light smut. Quite suggestive in general.

*****

Cats are light sleepers. Even if it seems like they spend most of their time in this quite vulnerable state a mere scratch of a branch against the window on a windy day can wake them up in a heartbeat.

That's something she'd learned just a couple of days ago. It was probably in the early morning hours when she was up in the air, looking at the cloudy sky that looked eerily calming through a small window. Or during two hour train ride that took her to where she was now. Blinking her sleepy eyes that were trying to adjust to the dim light of late summer sun & bedside lamp.

Last days of August have brought some warmth to this piece of land tho she was still getting used to the climate that was a bit different to the one she grew up with. Sea was three hundred kilometers away & chilly winds would rarely grace that wooded area she called home. Warm season would continue longer with temperatures of +20C and more making late weeks of September feel like they had one bonus month of summer. Whereas the man that was sitting across her was used to the cold whispering of Northern winds, soft rain & silver colored sky. He actually enjoyed spending his time by the sea, looking at the big waves & breathing in the salty smell that came with it. Sometimes he'd jump into the same unruly waters to calm his forever buzzing thoughts, washing away some of the worries that would pile up through the week. At first it was a bit worrying to see him trying to play with the elements she liked, but was slightly scared of. But as the time went by he made sure to stay closer to the shore and she knew that he wouldn't put himself in danger. Because the image of her scared eyes was more painful than salty water in his lungs.

*****

The beating of her heart was getting quicker and quicker despite the fact that her eyes adjusted to the soft yellow light that illuminated the room. "I must have fallen asleep" she thought. Only to be awakened by a pen falling on the floor. "That's so ironic... Just like a cat, sleeping peacefully on a windowsill..."

She felt startled, heart racing like crazy making her head feel dizzy. Tiredness, excitement, lack of sleep, too much caffeine & too much of everything. It wasn't new & the feeling of overstimulation was something she had to learn to live with yet it was always draining, discouraging even. She clutched to a warm blanket that must have been draped around her shoulders when succumbed to sleep. By the same man that was looking at her with his muddy green eyes, asking something that she failed to register.

Baby ? Are you ok? he repeated

I...I don't think so, but I will be. she smiled I guess I'm still jet lagged.

Maybe... Tho I thought you slept quite well. Or at least that's what you told me this morning?

Not that we had much of it... Sleeping, you know. she murmured to which he sheepishly smiled knowing that it was the truth.

He took her hands in his checking for a pulse. The rhythm was steady, but he could feel her fingers slightly shaking and the whole body still tense. He knew her, that messy yet beautiful mind & the body that hosted it. As well as what to do when things like that happen.

Come here, darling. he said, making himself comfortable on a large sofa & opening his legs so she could position herself between them with her back to his chest. She smiled and took a large blanket with her covering their bodies with a soft material.

You feel so warm she said and turned her head to kiss him. When their lips met she could feel that it would not be enough & he seemed to think the same. Once you taste it you cannot get enough. It was deep and passionate, their tongues fighting for dominance & two hearts beginning to beat faster. A moan escaped her lips earning a chuckle from a man that was now sliding one of his hands down from her shoulder to where he could literally feel her heart beating.

Do you feel it? she asked, already struggling to form coherent words This... this is because of you.

And I feel honored, darling... Relax. I'll take care of you. he said lifting her shirt & exposing her warm skin to a cooler weather in the room. He cupped one of her breasts squeezing it just a little while his other hand found its way much lower, snaking into her underwear. He had her in his embrace, so vulnerable & exposed to him in more ways than one. This wasn't something to take for granted. And he felt grateful that he was the man that she'd given this gift for.

One long finger slipped through her folds drowning in arousal that was so evident. He went further & slid it inside earning another moan from her. It was quiet, but to his ears it sounded heavenly. The kind of music only he was allowed to hear, it was to intimate to share it with someone & frankly he didn't want to.

It feels so good... Ahhh! she yelped when his mouth found her other breast & began to suck her nipple. The pleasure was overwhelming & her moans were getting louder. He increased his pace while still keeping his mouth on her breast. The echo of hear heartbeat was ringing in her ears, the pleasure making her feel light headed. A second digit easily slid into her warmth & at this point she gave up and started bucking her hips, using his fingers to chase the peak that was approaching.

That's right, use me. Use my fingers for your own pleasure his voice sounded breathless. She knew he enjoyed it as well, his hardness was pressed to her now naked bum, hidden under thick material of his pants. Be selfish, baby... It's all about you now.

It was just a matter of seconds as he felt her soft walls squeezing his fingers. He moved his mouth to her neck, the hair of his goatee brushing her sweaty skin & his other hand joining the other one. She remembers hearing the faint sound of David Bowie's Ashes to Ashes coming from his headphones that were now laying on the table. His thumb circling her pearl & a feeling that it's here, just a breath away.

She let out a loud moan as she came, shivers running down her spine. A lone tear ran down her cheek leaving a trail of black mascara & she turned her head slightly only to be met with the same eyes, usually so warm & loving, now being consumed with something that combines lust and adoration. There were moments when he'd be in his element, so into what he was doing that nothing around him existed. Or rather he existed in parallel universe, unseen to the others. She'd look at him mesmerized & full of love. But this was different. This was the look reserved solely for her.

And then he took his fingers that mere seconds ago were inside of her & slowly put them in his mouth. Eyes still on hers, licking them slowly like he was savoring a gourmet meal. Her big eyes grew even bigger not being able to believe what was happening. In these six months that they've been together they were curiously discovering each others bodies, but he'd usually taste her right after her peak, cleaning what was left.

Open your mouth he whispered and as soon as she did it he slid his fingers into her mouth. She never tasted herself & with soft whimpers coming from his mouth it felt even more intimate. It was so raw & arousing, his fingers sliding out of her mouth, leaving the taste of her own pleasure to linger on her tongue.

You all right, baby? was his question that slowly brought her back to reality. How do you feel?

More than ok. Great, actually! she smiled while caressing his cheek. He leaned into the palm of her hand closing his eyes. Umm... Thank you, by the way.

For what? he opened one eye and smiled.

I mean... It's not only about today. But... You know... For being the way you are. In these intimate moments.

He shook his head Remember what I told you in the beginning? I am honored to be a part of this journey. you could feel that he meant what he said in the way how firm his voice sounded. I hope I'm doing my job well in showing how good can sex feel. And if I'm not please, do tell me.

She sat up and looked him in the eye, an array of thoughts and emotions behind hers. I am not as good with words as you, but I can let my body do the talking.

Is that a Depeche Mode reference? he said enthusiastically.

I can already see my influence & I am proud of it. she giggled & positioned herself once again between his legs, but this time she laid on her stomach, hands reaching for the button of his pants.

What... Hey, baby. You... You don't have to, you..

But I want to. came her reply as she tugged his pants a bit lower & tracing her fingers to the hem of his boxers. Her heart was full & her mind was still adjusting to what was happening. You probably had no idea of what you had awakened in me, but let me show you.

*****

#dunno how i feel about this #but at least i wrote something #my writing #stories

[rabbivole]

i at least managed to write something to turn in as an induction proof but i hated every second of it

#i don't think it's correct because i have learned that induction proofs are the opposite of whatever makes sense to me #but at least i wrote something

[machine-fights-back]

My sleepy eyes open at first light only to be met with stinging sand, multiplied by the harsh morning sun. I stretch and feel a sloshing in my veins, heavy and wet. It is a nuisance yet I persist.

The coffee that hits my tongue is too hot, something about it doesn’t taste right. I sit to do my work and my eyes glaze over.

The next time I get up, the liquid inside is thicker now. It weighs me down. I make my way back and slowly lower myself to the couch, but I keep going.

Now I am laying on the couch, the sweat on my body mixed with the mud in my veins cements me there on its velvety cushion. I am one with the material like a sad stain after a night of nothing at all.

My brain, filled with rocks, has a brief moment of motivation that sends a small seismic wave throughout the landslide that is this body of mine.

I grip the cushion for a moment, picturing this rising land mass separating itself from the institution of the couch. I release, and resolve myself to being one with the couch forevermore.

The mud is cemented. There was never a chance.

#writing #my writing #depression is kicking my ass today #but at least I wrote something #I wanted to write about the fresh meat #but that’s a whole different can of worms #anywho #I like the earthy themes in this

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

(source, 11/30/22)

KING

#anti rings of power #rings of power #Bernard Hill #LOTR cast #anti rop #and before anyone says something about how Peter Jackson's movies made money too - yes they did #but at least they were based on books Tolkien actually wrote #the Amazon show is not based on any story Tolkien actually wrote #it's just the haphazard and low quality imitation of a greedy and corrupt company #Bernard Hill is right and he should say it #IT'S NOT THE REAL THING #and also #I think he's saying that the Amazon show is PURELY a money-making venture - which is true #the LOTR films were not purely a money-making venture - in fact they didn't even know if they'd be successful at all #and then they were - but no one predicted it

[theperceptivepoet]

#well this is fucking pathetic #but at least I wrote something #poetry #poem #poet

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: nightmares / trauma / ]

Post-invasion, Mikey sneaks into Leo’s room and when asked by Leo what the problem was, Mikey just smiles and says since he’s awake and knew Leo would be too, he didn’t want either of them alone. Leo laughs and lets Mikey stick around, both of them clumped together on Leo’s bed, watching grainy compilations of old Lou Jitsu commercials on Leo’s phone.

Technically, Mikey didn’t lie. He just didn’t explain everything that led him to Leo’s room. He didn’t explain the nightmare of his arms burning up too bright, too fast, destroyed before Raph and Donnie have a chance to help. He didn’t explain how he woke up with a wail caught in his throat, phantom pain in his arms and chest alike chasing away any semblance of exhaustion. He didn’t explain how his mind made sure he knew, vividly, that if one thing went wrong with his portal, then he would have never seen Leo again.

He didn’t explain, and he didn’t have to. Leo knows his brothers better than he knows himself, and Mikey has always been easy to read. So it’s no trouble to let Mikey know that he’s still with them, that Leo is here and alive with everyone else. And when Mikey finally regains his exhaustion and falls asleep leaning against Leo, Leo simply maneuvers him into a more comfortable position and stays by his side.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t go to sleep - not that he could, anyway. He just mindlessly scrolls on his phone, the soft snores of his little brother filling the room. He stays in place, awake, because he wants to be sure that when Mikey wakes up again it’s to the immediate sight that Leo is alive and well and home.

And, if Leo’s bring honest, that’s a reminder not just for Mikey’s sake.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rise mikey #rise leo #portal pals #one of my favorite things about Mikey is how self assured he really is not only in his skills but in his sense of self #but no matter how confident you are how much faith in yourself and others you have anyone can be struck by what ifs #and trauma isn’t so easily brushed over #so I can easily see Mikey struggling occasionally with the notion that ah. I did it. but what if I didn’t. #bros the worlds best mystic warrior in part because he can do real miracles #but miracles are only thought to be so because they’re near impossible feats #and with the knowledge that he is capable of opening timelines…I wonder if a part of Mikey fears falling into one where he failed #now - Mikey is not one to get wrapped up in insecurity he really isn’t #but for something so important and such a possible fear? at the very least I can see his subconscious manifesting a nightmare or two #most likely more - he’s a kid after all #they all are #ANYWAY love this duo lol #almost positive I wrote something similar to this wayyyyyy long ago but bleh I’ll write it again idc idc

[siphisket]

Get Spr(ule)onkd

#I was supposed to finish this at least 5 hours ago but instead I added color (;▽;) one day i will sleep at a Normal Time #anyway hi welcome 196!! please stay omg #oughhhh god i have not stood up in like 7-8 hours i need food #siphisketches #my art #csp #get spronkd #reddit migration #r/196 #196 #spronkus kronkus #comic #artists on tumblr #id in alt #cw// #blood #violence #implied animal death #(Edit: okay alt text added in now! tried something different this time and just wrote it as a sequence of events instead of trying to #describe the visual composition of each panel lol -- it's a lot less wordy this way so hopefully it works better! Let me know what you thin #Also I fixed the boar label that I accidentally erased the first time -- should go without saying but just in case: #depiction of violence is intended for purely metaphorical purposes & I am not endorsing the use of cartoon rabbits as bear-trap guillotines

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

#may 31th anon #hello friends!! (｡’▽’｡)♡ how are you!! I missed you so much! #I'm sorry that once again i have not been posting but I did that thing again where I got scared of posting #I do not know why but it is the same with physical paper diarys #I have 3 diarys and they all have 1 entry #I think one just says 'I am ten' #what have you been up to!! did you do something fun? is it summer too where you live? c: #my tumblr messages seem to be broken! I'm sorry if you wrote something :C it just says 'no new messages' despite also saying new messages #not a lot has happened here! I got a tomato plant and then I got very invested into the tomato plant and I have eaten three tomatos so far ( #my roses are also doing well!! I just got a new yellow rose and since she got here she only made orange flowers #I do not know the meaning of that #but I am very thankful! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ I love it when things are orange!! #I've been trying to buy an orange shirt for the past 2 weeks but they always sell out before I get to them #I'm also thinking about buying a jean jacket #I have not worn a jean jacket for at least 15 years because one time in 7th grade tthe girl behind me said #that I was wearing a cool jean jacket and I just assumed that this was bullying for no actual reason #but maybe she just thought that it was an acutal cool jean jacket #we'll soon have out 10 year school reunion #maybe I should ask her #is anyone else going to a secret Sherlock phase again #I just want to see that silly little hat again #would sherlock holmes wear a jean jacket #have a nice day everyone!! #see you soon hopefully!! #♡＾▽＾♡

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

OK I WAS TOO UPSET TO WRITE THIS BUT NOW I AM ONLY MILDLY UPSET SO I WROTE IT

Your Worth | Canonverse Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.3k ✧ notes ➼ canon!verse, hurt/comfort, negative self-talk, levi being comforting in his levi way

The door to your office flew open. It was already well into the evening. Nearly everyone should have returned to the barracks. You were hoping to have some alone time to process and catch up with paperwork. The previous few hours haven't been easy and you were coping by drowning yourself in tedious work.

Your body tensed as you heard Levi's distinct footsteps step into your office.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked sternly.

You put your pen down as you slowly looked up at your visibly agitated boyfriend. You had an idea as to what got him so upset, although you hoped it wasn't the case.

"What are you talking about?" you asked quietly.

He was holding a few sheets of paper in his hand. He placed one on your desk in front of you. Your heart sank upon reading it.

It was your request to the Commander to be removed from Levi's squad. You had submitted it early this morning, putting in substantial effort to get it to the Commander's office without Levi catching on.

You took the page from him roughly, frowning.

"Tch," you muttered in irritation. "He showed you?"

"It's my fucking squad, of course he showed me," Levi scolded.

You didn't respond. You knew he had a point. It was Levi's squad. He was the Captain. Of course he was going to find out sooner or later.

"Why are you requesting to be removed?" he asked with a gentler tone. "Did something happen?"

It wasn't like you to just suddenly do something like this. He had noticed that you had been acting differently or have been more reserved for the past few days. He had been expecting something to eventually happen, but nothing as extreme as this.

"_____," Levi nudged you once you didn't respond.

After a while, your lips finally parted to speak.

"I'm..." you mumbled quietly, "I'm holding you back."

"Ah?" Levi muttered, genuinely not expecting those words to come out of your mouth.

"You heard me. I'm holding you back," you reemphasized. "Everyone you had chosen for your squad is skilled with the gear or has a high amount of Titan kills and I'm just...me."

He took the paper back from you and set it to the side, sitting on your desk as he looked down at you as you sat in your office chair.

"...the fuck do you mean 'just' you?" he asked, although he already somewhat knew the answer. He knew that you were frequently plagued with feelings and thoughts of inadequacy.

You knew that he knew.

"What do you want me to say?" you exclaimed, frustrated beyond belief. "No matter what I do, there's someone that's better at it. There's someone with more kills, faster times, more respect, or whatever! No matter how much I try, no matter how much effort I put in, I will never be the person that someone goes to for help. There isn't the One Thing™ that I'm good at where someone would be like 'hey, _____ should be the one you ask for help from'. No, I'm always in the fucking background and being dead weight, so that is why I requested to be discharged from your squad. The last thing you need is to have me drag you down."

Levi was silent the entire time you rambled, never taking his eyes off you as he listened.

"You done?" he finally said once you stopped speaking.

You scowled at him again.

"Get out."

Levi promptly got up, but instead of walking out the door, he walked around your desk to where you were seated at.

"Get out!" you repeated, raising your voice.

"Not until you tell me that everything you just said was bullshit," he said sternly.

You clenched your jaw, frustrated. You wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear, but you couldn't lie to him. You did legitimately believe in everything you just said, in every flaw that you had just listed.

You groaned in frustration as you buried your face into your hands while gripping at your hair.

These feelings of inadequacy were not new. Feelings of never being good enough and your fear of failure was something that was just drilled into you as a child. You were always being compared to others and you eventually developed a worldview that made you feel like you had to "earn" your right to exist by being good at things. Not only that, but you had to "specialize" in it, which made it so that anytime someone else came along that was just as good at if not better than you at something, you felt like your entire life—including your right to live it—spiraled out of control.

Levi gently placed his hand on your shoulder.

"Hey," he said quietly.

He shook you a little bit once you didn't answer or move.

"_____, look at me."

You slowly leaned back from your desk to look at him.

Before your eyes could even focus properly on him, he gently flicked at your forehead.

"Quit pitying yourself," he said as he scowled.

You rubbed at your forehead, which was now slightly red as you pouted at him.

The pout was a good sign for him. It meant you were listening to what he was trying to say, despite how strong those intrusive thoughts were being.

He knelt down, so that he was eye-level with you, gazing at you with gentler eyes.

"What started this?" he asked quietly.

You looked away, but he immediately grabbed your chin and turned you towards him so that he was making eye contact with you.

You tried to resist against his grip, feeling incredibly embarrassed that he was still able to read you like an open book. You had prided yourself as being able to mask well to not be a burden to those around you, but that was never the case around Levi. You hated and loved it at the same time.

You sighed in defeat.

"I just heard some of the prospective recruits talking and mentioning who in the Scouts they looked up to, and I guess it was foolish of me to even think that my name would be mentioned, but a dumb part of me hoped that I at least contributed something, something to be remembered for if I died," you began rambling, taking a deep breath to keep your voice from breaking as your frustration and self-hate threatened to boil over. "But there isn't, is there? As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm either your partner or just another soldier. I'm not anyone special-"

"Cut that shit out," Levi scolded, not giving you a chance to finish your rambling this time.

You stopped talking, but looked at him with hurt in your eyes.

"I know how important external validation is to you, but the cadets are talking out of their ass and you know it," he said as he looked intensely in your eyes. "You know they don't know shit about what any of us actually do—and it certainly doesn't warrant you requesting to be discharged from the squad."

He sighed and let go of your chin, instead moving to gently place his palm on the side of your face, allowing you to take comfort in his touch. It at least helped ground you when you felt like your emotions were taking over your entire world.

"You're worth more than you know," he said gently before pulling you in and gently placing his lips against yours, lingering for a few seconds until he felt you relax into him.

He placed his other hand on your thigh and gently squeezed as he slowly began to deepen the kiss before finally pulling away and resting his forehead on yours.

"And if I have to remind you of that every single day of your life, I will."

ok this was cathartic, ty to anyone who took the time to read :3 #: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @lovolee3 @svftackerman @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @idkks4m @moonmalice @elnyrae @sleepyfairyxo @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @belovedackerman @bejewelledd @fuyulvr @sad-darksoul @levis-squishy-cheeks @roseofdarknessblog @anviacker @aam1na @luvjiro @noctemys @sixpennydame @dumbfound-princess @raenacreates @deepzombieyouth join my taglist!

#hey i at least wrote something today #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #levi hurt/comfort #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

[raiiny-bay]

the kids released a new album

#ts4 #simblr #ts4 edit #ts4 render #sims 4 #myedits #AUverse #dhestyn #kelly #ok i actually have things to say about this #FIRST OF ALL this is not what i intended to make when i sat down & started working on the bandAU #i had this big elaborate thing planned & then i realized... i didn't wanna do it. at least. not right now lol #idk why i think everything i make needs to be so elaborate & involved bc it doesn't?? like where did i get that idea from? #i can just make something small & silly sometimes yk #n e way. this is like. one of the kids' albums i guess? my thought is that dhes wrote it/was in charge of it #that's why he's on the cover. #kel writes most of their albums (w help from the others ofc) but dhes really wanted to try writing one & this is what came of it #most of the titles don't actually mean anything. they're just like. random words i thought dhes would use lol #but the first 3 are references to the canonverse #also i originally wanted to have dhes shirtless bc 1. symbolism of like vulnerability? #but also 2. i thought the lighting would look pretty against his skin #BUT he has a death note tattoo right there between his shoulder blades & i just.......... could not take him seriously like that so #he had to keep his clothes on

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 98

Part 1 Part 97

It’s fucked up, but Steve’s never been happier. He’s not sure how much of it’s the drugs, and how much is the relief, but it sits like a weight on his chest that he never wants to shake off.

There’s a constant stream of visitors. Ms. Byers, who’s taken to cupping her cool hands around his face and kissing his forehead each time. Uncle Wayne, who’s calluses are starting to become as familiar as Edde’s to the skin of Steve’s palms.

Barbara and Carol, attached at the hip in a way he can’t parse. He doesn’t think he was gone that long. How did this happen? But he knows that flirty smile, knows what his best friend’s fingers trailing over Barbara’s shoulders means.

Tommy doesn’t come. It shouldn’t hurt, but – But. Something inside him tightens and contracts. It might just be his heart.

Jonathan and Nancy come together. Jonathan’s bubbling over with apologies, contrite in contrast to Nancy’s fuming.

“You should have called me,” she says, curly hair practically raising with the power of her ire. “I could have helped.”

From his seat by Steve’s side, Eddie huffs and puffs and barely holds back his yell. He doesn’t see the way her fists are curled, can’t see past the veneer of control that hides the worry behind it.

“I was possessed, Nance,” Steve replies, smiling up at her. His face hurts with all the smiling. “I didn’t even know who you were.”

She sputters and stalls while Jonathan stands beside her, shooting worried looks out of the corner of his eyes.

He can almost feel the hole they’d left in his brain. The shape of their outlines at high school parties and in line at the cafeteria. Nancy’s firmly raised hand, Jonathan’s slumped shoulders. It’s filled now.

He wants to fill it with more memories, so many that the bad ones just shake loose.

“Oh, alright,” she huffs, settling down on the other side of the bed, far away from Eddie’s twitching fingers. “But that won’t work as an excuse next time.”

The kids are easy; they come in a pile, stacking against each other in his room’s doorway until Dustin comes pouring in, everyone else after him. They all crowd onto his bed with no regard to his personal space. Even Mike slinks onto the end to sit with sullen shoulders and shining eyes. 

They’re like puppies, yapping over each other for his and Eddie’s attention. Will’s planning a new campaign, and his eyes light up when Steve agrees to play.

Chief Hopper comes next with a girl hiding behind his back, clutching onto the hanging lapel of his jacket. Her head peaks out behind him, curls springing wildly from her scalp as she smiles shyly at Steve. 

“I know you,” Steve says.

The chief huffs, as the beams, and says her part in their little play, “I found you.”

Steve shuffles up in his bed, not looking as he feels Eddie prop up pillows behind his back. He holds his arms out and open, waiting even as his muscles begin to strain. 

She shuffles out from behind Chief Hopper, head down as she climbs onto the edge of his bed, butting her forehead against his chest like a cat. He puts his arms around her, slow as he feels what he’s come to find out are burns of varying degrees. No one will tell him what they’re from, but Carol had looked especially shifty when she’d witnessed the bandages being changed. He elected not to ask.

The girl doesn’t put her own arms around him, just lets her hands settle into her own lap and leans in. 

“You really are a supergirl, huh?” Steve asks, reaching his hand up to play with her curls. His splinted finger knocks against her skull once before he holds it back as best he can. 

She leans back to beam up at him, eyes alight. “You can call me El”.

They probably both look stupid, smiling at each other, one of them all banged up, the other in what must be Chief Hopper’s cast-offs. 

Hopper clears his throat when the silence lingers. He stomps in his clunky work boots over to the seat beside Eddie and sinks down, almost reclining into it despite its straight back. Eddie curls away from him, glaring at the man like he’s got a live grenade. 

Or like he’s been searched for drugs before and doesn’t want the fuzz to be sniffing around. Steve laughs, loopy and pleased while they both look at him with the same furrowed brows and worried frowns.

“You alright, kid?” Hopper asks gruffly, reaching out to put his meaty hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve winces, feels the bandages pull until Hopper drops his hand. 

“Did you know she was real?” Steve asks, reaching out to pull one of El’s bounciest curls atop her head. It all goes straight and taught and then bounces back into place.

Hopper snorts. “Where do you think she’s been living?”

“Oh,” he replies. 

His brains clicking in his skull, weighed down by morphine and too much sleep, but when his gaze flickers around the room, he recognizes the awkward grimace on Eddie’s lips.

“You knew,” Steve accuses, finger pointed toward Eddie’s face, to emphasize who he’s accusing. His finger shakes unsteadily until Eddie snatches it out of the air and pops it into his own mouth to bite down. “Ow, what the fuck?”

Eddie’s dimples pop around it as he nibbles into the knuckle one more time before letting go with a suctioning pop. “Don’t be mad, Stevie,” he weedles, looking up at Steve through his lashes with wide, innocent eyes, even as his prominent dimples give away his amusement.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Steve’s slightly damp finger flicks Eddie’s nose until he hisses and snatches Steve’s hand to interlace their fingers with a shrug. “I thought it would be funny.”

It’s hard to hold a grudge when El giggles, light and airy as it breathes life into the room.

“He’s got you there, kid,” Hopper replies, reaching out again, this time to ruffle El’s hair. 

Steve huffs, “whatever, man,” but his lips are little traitors and they can’t stop from turning up at the corners. “See if I introduce you to the next superhero we meet.”

Eddie squeezes his hand, familiar callouses scraping against Steve’s palm. “You’ll introduce me, Stevie.” he replies. Steve closes his eyes as he feels warm lips on the back of his hand. “You love me too much.”

Steve closes his eyes against the feeling, still smiling even as his healing skin pulls, and his finger feels unwieldy and wrong, and his head aches and floats up toward the ceiling. 

Yeah, he really does. 

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary @practicallybegging

Part 99

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #Well. I wrote something at least!!!

[ghost-proofbaby]

if it were anyone else (e.m.)

warnings: strong allusions to depression, disordered eating/rough relationship with food, mentions of smoking, description of a sort of panic attack. very sad. hurt/comfort? not edited.

wc: 1.6k+

a/n: this is literally entirely self indulgent and written entirely after i sat and cried and thought "i wish i had eddie here right now to hold me". maybe in like thirty minutes tops. this is for me and only me. go figure lol. sorry. yeah. anyways.

if you relate, my askbox is always open, and i'm very sorry you've felt this way as well. i hope you all take care of yourselves. drink some water, call a friend. be kind to yourself.

“I’m worried about you.” 

Four words that always manage to strike a certain type of fear in your gut. You don’t know how to react as he says it, how he wants you to react. You can only stare blankly, you can only wish harder for the earth to swallow you whole.

“What do you mean?” you laugh nervously, following it with a hard swallow.

You’re playing dumb. You know it, he knows it. The tremor in your bones and your numb appendages know it, too. 

“You’re…” Eddie stalls, licking his lips, letting his eyes rake over you, “You’re getting bad again.” 

You’re quick to shake your head, forcing another hollow chuckle from your chest, “It’s not that bad. I’m fin-”

“You’re not fine.”

The look in his eyes could crack your spine if you stare too long. Wet eyes, a trembling bottom lip, worry lines etched into his forehead that you realize might be caused by you.

You’re causing him worry. The last thing you want to do, you’ve accomplished. You’re on a fast-track to becoming a burden – the first step is always acceptance. 

You’re still unsure of how he wants – no, needs you to react right now. This conversation is a landmine for both of you, and you hold every breath with every step as you try to navigate it. If you make one wrong step, it could cause an explosion that spares no survivors.

You don’t mind if it tears you apart limb by limb. You do mind if it hurts him. 

“How… How do you know that?” 

It’s not a sarcastic snipping or defensive deterrence. It’s an unfiltered response of genuineness – you want to know the signs, you want to know what has exposed the rot this time.

And then, maybe next time, you’ll be able to better shield it from him with this knowledge. 

“How could I not?” he takes a deep breath in through his nose, and you focus on the flare of his nostrils rather than any of the tears beginning to gather at his waterlines, “It’s been happening for a while now, though, hasn’t it?” 

Your throat is a cage, tight and restrictive and ringing with a bitter metallic taste in its tenseness. You can’t respond with words. You can only nod. 

He chooses to answer your question more properly now that you’ve admitted it, “You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground. Picking up distractions like they’re going out of style.”

“Hey, they might be. We never know-” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet his. Now’s not the time for jokes, “Sorry. I… I know. I’m sorry.” 

He’s right. Fuck, he’s right. 

“I want to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly,” his own steps across these landmines are just as delicate, just as feathery light, as your own. You hear it in his tone, see it in his body language. You wish your body could sink into the mattress you’re sitting on the edge of as he crouches in front of you, warm palms connecting with your knees. Grounding you. Tethering you. Holding you back from that sinking you crave. “Are you… Sweetheart, are you okay?”

If anybody else had built up to such a stupid question, you would have laughed in their face. You would have shoved those warm palms right off of your skin and you would have thrown up those ice cold hands of your own, shouted obviously not. 

Obviously not. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay, it’s a bit comical. I am drowning. I am treading in freezing cold waters and I am barely capable of keeping my head above the waves. My engine is fucked, my tank is empty. I don’t think I’d even know how to be ‘okay’ again if you did manage to pull this mangled body of mine from these depths and sat me down on safe, solid ground again. 

You can’t say any of this, though. Not because you don’t trust him, not because he would judge you. But because the moment he asks the question that should make you scoff, you let out a sob instead. Something like a muffled, broken wail that tears from deep within you. It had already been ready and poised, laying in wait for a perfect moment like this one to escape. 

His eyes aren’t the only glossy ones anymore. 

“I-” you start, breathing already stuttering and chest already constricting, “I- I-”

“Hey,” he palms smooth up your thighs, carrying their warmth with them, as if he were trying to spread it across you. As if he had heard your thoughts. As if he already knew all about those dark, treacherous, freezing waters you were stranded in. All you can do is spew out another cry, strangled as you tried to swallow it down before it entered the atmosphere between you two, “Hey.” 

You only notice the tears when you crumple forward and he meets you halfway. Those warm palms, those hands so capable of safety and promise, cup your cheeks and his thumbs make quick work of swiping away the salty streams. 

“Hey, baby, breathe for me,” his voice is tragically gentle, “Just one deep breath, okay?” 

To demonstrate, you watch his chest expand dramatically, his hands forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

You can’t see through the bleariness. 

“C’mon, sweetness,” he encourages again, “One breath. Just one.” 

If it were anyone else, you’d turn into a fit of rage at the coddling. You’d break everything in sight. You’d scream until your already burning lungs finally collapsed as they’d been yearning to for so long. 

But it’s him. It’s just him, it’s just Eddie. 

His chest rises dramatically again, and this time, yours does as well, albeit through stifling hiccups. You’re dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the flood of emotion that was wrecking you. 

“There you go!” his voice rises ever so slightly, and when you flinch a bit at the sudden volume, he retracts, “Sorry, sorry. But that’s it, sweetheart. Another one, okay?” 

Another breath. Another sob. Another wave of all the pain you’ve been battling off. 

You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground.

He was right and it fucking killed you. None of those are things you could ever shield him from. You didn’t have the heart to pull away those numb and icey fingertips every time he’d reach out for your hand, or try to cover the shivers that managed to rack your bones even in the middle of summer. The sleeping situation had been spiraling, a pendulum of sleepless nights that would end in a sleep so deep that you could have been mistaken for resting with the dead. Maybe the smoking you could have hid, especially when you’d been so boastful about quitting. 

You weren’t running yourself into the ground. You had already collapsed into the dirt, you had already joined the worms. You’d buried yourself alive, six feet under, and nothing could have stopped him from sniffing out that scent of decay on you. 

The death of a soul and mind. The death of the thing that had propelled you forward for so long. No amount of sweet perfume, or hour long scalding showers, or minty gum to occupy your mind rather than a proper meal, can erase that stench. 

You never could have shielded him. He always saw right through you. Always had, always would. 

“I’m sorry,” you end up crying out. 

You don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but you echo the words again. Over and over, on repeat, until he’s rising from the ground. Until he’s sat beside you. Until his arms are suddenly encasing you and you’re awarded a warmth you didn’t feel deserving of. 

He doesn’t smell like the decay you’d surrounded yourself with. He smells like slow waking in the morning, dreary and calm and at a reasonable time. He smells like warm baths that only relax your bones, and don’t have to blister your skin in the process. He smells like three meals a day, all comforting and all effortless and that never linger with a sense of regret.

He’s not decay, never even treading close to death. He’s home. He’s the promise that you could be okay. Even if it isn’t right now. 

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, squeezing you tighter into his chest, not even blinking an eye at the patch of wetness you leave behind from where your cheeks bury against him, “Never apologize. Ever. Not with me, sweetheart. Keep the sorries. I don’t need them.” 

If it were anyone else, the holding would have suffocated you. But it’s him. It’s Eddie.

You don’t fight him when he pulls you fully into his lap, situating the two of you comfortably on that mattress. 

You don’t know how long you let him cradle you like that. How much of that time is spent filled with your cries, or how many breaths he gently urges you to take with him. He never once has to verbally say what you already know; he never once promises aloud that it’ll be okay. He doesn’t put that pressure on you, not yet. Not today. Not when he knows the journey to okay is still such a long one. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers to you instead, “I’ve got you, now, sweetheart.” 

If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t believe them. 

But it’s him. It’s Eddie. 

And he’s got you, for now and for as long as you need.

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #idk what this is #i hope it flops because fuck is it personal ! #i wrote very quickly and did not edit it lol #like my own personal diary entry or therapy session #bleh #very niche and doubt it's relatable lol #but i'm unwell and what good am i if i can't make content #if nothing else #i can create #still good for something maybe i don't know #at least something not awful can come from this storm

[chut-je-dors]

Now I'm curious cause of your tag. What did Swedish media say about the eurovision thing?

Oof yeah, here's a post detailing it ... here another... Basically they've absolutely flipped over the fact that Finnish public didn't give Loreen points at all (which I find absolutely hilarious) and suddenly started wielding such rhetoric as "the former eastern part of our kingdom" referring to Finland, which is???? like??? do I even need to say how Not Okay that is?

It might seem to some that the Finnish people are reacting to Sweden's (unfair) win and them being sore winners (which, points to them, I didn't know was possible!) with too much drama, but it's all tied to our history together. Finland has traditionally seen itself, and has been seen by other countries (Sweden included) as the sort of "little brother" to the more advanced, better-faring, glorious Sweden. While Sweden to my knowledge doesn't much care about what Finland gets up to (perhaps overlooking/ignoring us and our merits), Finland is always comparing itself to Sweden and trying to live up to it. It's a very common rhetoric and sort of, the atmosphere over here. We know more about Sweden than Sweden knows about us; we're constantly conscious that Sweden exists. Sweden gets talked about in international news; Finland, if mentioned, is often tied to - you guessed it - being Sweden's neighboring country.

We used to be part of Sweden for 600 years. During that time, Swedish was implemented as the language of the culture and the "civilised" whereas the finns living in the eAstErn pArT oF tHe kiNgDoM were seen as "wild" and "uncivilised" and just, generally a lesser people to the Swedish speaking population. We haven't been under Sweden's rule for some 200 years and STILL we can't seem to shake their influence on us. Swedish is still a mandatory language to learn at school (and I have many opinions on that, but that'd be another post). Finnish as a language has been disregarded for its whole existence. Our leading national thinkers and poets in the 19th century, who were the first ones to really push for the Finnish identity instead of us seeing ourselves as part of Sweden or Russia, wrote in Swedish. The first novel in Finnish was published in 1870.

So this is monumental to us, to have the whole word watching Finland and not Sweden. Finland has a lot of merits, especially considering how small a people we are (just 5,5mil). To have a song in our language, in Finnish be this popular, is something we couldn't have imagined. We as a people are humble to the extreme, so much that we might easily scorn anyone who is too successful (not a good thing!), and this is the first time in my life that I'm seeing the whole country rally behind someone like this. When we say "Our Jere" we mean it with our whole hearts. We're so so proud of him, everyone is, and for once Finnish people seem to think in unison that someone deserves all the praise and the success.

SO, to have Sweden in this UNIQUE moment of Finland raising its head and being "we're so amazing", with the rest of Europe going "yes you're so amazing!!", spew rhetoric like this, is just, unbelievable to me. Like I can't just believe that in the 21st century there are people in Sweden who hold up 200 year old thought patterns of our country. It's been shocking 'cos though there's always been rivalry, it's felt more... tongue in cheek. We "love to hate" Sweden over here. It's been "I hate Sweden (affectionate)". But now we find this unbelievably condescending and belittling attitude towards us raising its head, and we wonder, we thought we two were okay?? But have they always held these beliefs???

So there's a sense of betrayal in the air as well. And just, full on disbelief. And maybe we're starting to see that it has been like this all along, but we've decided to turn a blind eye to it? True colours shining through? Perhaps not... but yeah.

Sweden not looking good here!

(here's one more post that says the same that i did but was better at making it SHORT oops)

#eurovision #finland #sweden #käärijä #loreen #look i have nothing against loreen or individual swedish people #i don't believe most swedes would think like this! #still to have something like this in a piece of media over there is... wild #and somewhat telling? #welp #bit of a long answer but there's more to this mess than just what's happening now #it's 800 years of shared history that we understand without it needing to be said #at least i think so! #if anyone has anything to add/discuss please go ahead! #anonymous #answered #the finnish people have a forever inferior complex when it comes to sweden and now the one time the world actually sees us sweden's like #'such dumb people :( we won look at our trophy. stop celebrating the circus act' #they're just jealous we have the crazy we have the party #:) <3 i wrote this cos i'm hiding from work heheh #esc23 #suomi

[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

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

#in some ways it IS the move to go to grad school right out of undergrad #because your body can still sort of operate like a college kid #i’m on about 3ish hours of sleep rn and this morning it felt SO over but now i’ve eaten something and we’re so back #i also don’t really do caffeine. except sometimes i’ll go get one of those panera death lemonades #i might be able to snag a short nap before work #but anyway about seventeen year old emilie. i was thinking abt how she was in that movie solitude and adrien said she was seventeen #WAIT. NO. HE SAID SHE WAS SEVENTEEN IN THAT PHOTO ON HIS DESKTOP NOT IN THE MOVIE #well. okay whatever i’m gonna tell you what i was thinking about anyway #OKAY i’m back i just checked the wikipedia page and then i watched the end of gorizilla. to make sure i’m not lying. because i’m normal. #anyway i was thinking about the solitude film and how it’s super rare and old and obscure and whatever. and how apparently #emilie wrote it herself and andre produced it #and i’m thinking about how gabe was discovered by audrey and that’s how he got his start in the fashion industry #so now i’m like?? did gabe and emilie first meet on the set of solitude? because gabe was designing costumes or whatever? #and that’s how audrey found him? have people already thought about this?? #also i just checked and it doesn’t say emilie’s last name in the credits and also it’s ‘graham films’ with the twin rings logo m #so i’m assuming she’s still emilie graham de vanily at that point #anyway it comes back to seventeen year old emilie because i started imagining seventeen year old runaway emilie having her new life in pari #after escaping her british nobility life #and the first thing she does is write and star in an original movie. of course. #and she meets this repressed bisexual punk upstart costume designer who is so the opposite of everyone she’s ever known #and he’s immediately so unhealthily obsessed with her. which she appreciates. #and then they proceed to have the most toxic doomed evil relationship of all time #also she gets cheated because once gabe gets money he represses himself SO hard that he is now exactly like all the people emilie grew up w #but at least he’s still obsessed with her #this is what i was thinking about during class today. i don’t know how i get anything done either. #ml #anna rambles #asks