#hes my sun he makes me shine like diamonds......

[helaelaemond]

[cillianhead]

pinterest being a little too real

[undrthelights]

hot summer nights, mid-July

when you and i were forever wild

the crazy days, city lights

the way you'd play with me like a child

[dancefirst]

tags; relationships

*❈ he's my sun he makes me shine like diamonds — ( rel: riff. )

*❈ every day we started fighting; every night we fell in love — ( rel: tony. )

*❈ from your first cigarette to your last dying day — ( rel: jets. )

*❈ the call to arms has sounded — ( rel: sharks. )

*❈ like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood — ( rel: jet girls. )

[milksnake-tea]

✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : Sunday (unwillingly) engages in his first acts of crime on the Planet of Indulgence.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 5.76k

✩ TAGLIST : @vynicity , @vxnuslogy , @https-mika @greyrain23 , @red-ninja15, @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio , @astolary , @xphantasmagoriax , @semi-orangeapple , @ezra1yn , @xynthevoid , @apinu , @crysangria , @shenwi (send me an ask off anon if you want to be added !! please specify that it’s for this series)

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : do you know how long i wanted to use this chapter title. it was supposed to be for chapter two but GRGGRRGGR anyways it's here now !!! this is definitely my favorite chapter to write so far, it is JUICY so have fun guys !!!

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Euphrosyne is a planet bathed in violet. 

The second you step into one of the many overcrowded streets, the color invades your vision. Just about everything is bathed in this vivid purple-pinkish haze like a filter. Conversation flows almost as quickly as money does, and the sky and the stars are replaced with billboards and advertisements displaying the next big thing.

What you like about economic metropolises like these is that no one bats you an eye. They’re all too busy running to snatch the latest trending product before anyone else does. Here, it’s everyone for themselves, and being a second too late could be the difference between life and death.

“Keep up, princess,” you call over your shoulder. “Would be a shame to lose you so soon.”

You adjust your baseball cap onto your head to make sure it doesn’t get swept away by the crowd. Behind you, you hear Sunday maneuvering his way through dozens before he’s able to break free and catch up to you. He shakes his head, his wing feathers ruffled in irritation.

“I never thought I’d see a planet worse than Penacony,” Sunday mutters distastefully. He swiftly pats down his shoulder where someone had bumped into him. “No one here seems to know what basic manners are.”

“That’s high-end capitalism for you,” you laughed. “Everyone thinks they’re the center of the universe.”

You keep your eyes on the sky; looking forward will get you nowhere. But up there, that’s where you can find direction. There, there are the neon lights, the flashing signs of luxury cars, the skyscrapers that are only accompanied by the monorail that stretches throughout the planet.

It doesn’t take long before you find your target. Among the neon buildings and flashing billboards, an ivory tower shines like a diamond in the rough, a refined royal in the midst of puffed-up nobles. Its crown is made up of large, golden letters with a glow that can rival suns.

Many, many years ago, when you’d first joined the Hunters, Kafka had taken you to a similar store - same company, different branch, different star system. You weren’t like Sunday, who was starting anew, but she had insisted you at least get a new coat. That new coat ended up turning into three, with an add-on of five pairs of shoes and the entire sunglasses section.

A small smile slips onto your face at the memory. It’s been a while since you’d last hung out with Kafka. You should invite her out again sometime.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Sunday’s sharp intake of breath. His eye twitches as he’s once again pushed by some upper-class passerby.

Smiling sympathetically, you offer your wrist to him. “Here, hold onto me.”

He contemplates your offer for a total of five seconds before someone barrels past him again. Irritation flashes over his face like lightning and his halo begins to glow threateningly.

Before Sunday can commit his first murder in broad daylight, you reach out and grab his wrist so you can tug him behind you.

“Why isn’t anyone bumping against you?” Sunday complains, although relief from no longer being tossed around like a ragdoll bleeds through.

“No idea,” you reply, checking to make sure his halo has cooled down, which it has. “Maybe they just know their place.”

“Of course.” 

You feel Sunday’s hand flex under your hold on him, but he makes no move to shove you off him. Apparently, he finds you to be more bearable than the crowd - although that isn’t exactly a difficult feat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll only have to bear with this for a little longer. We’re almost there.” As you finish speaking, you pick up the pace, skillfully slipping through the sea of people with Sunday following close behind.

Windows upon windows of mannequins adorned in designer clothing greet you when you finally arrive at the twelve-floor mall. Despite the brand’s renown, there’s no line to get in; instead, there are bouncers who scan you up and down to make sure you’re a customer, not a thief.

They scrutinize you and Sunday as you stroll in, but one look at your attire and Sunday’s perfect posture and they nod approvingly, stepping aside. You smirk a little at how easily they let you pass - prejudice’s a bitch, but when it works in your favor, you certainly don’t complain.

The doors open like gates to heaven with a whoosh. Workers dressed in suits and ties bow and greet you as you enter. Their smiles are almost as fake as Sunday’s; it’s actually impressive.

“Welcome,” they speak in one, pleasant chorus that oozes with customer service training. “How may we help you today?”

You speed past them, heading straight for the elevators. The workers’ smiles didn’t move at your behavior, in fact, you’d wager they were relieved you didn’t start yapping away at them. You hear the chorus bid you farewell as you tug Sunday into one of the many glass elevators, joining other well-dressed clients.

In some planets, the wealthy were as powerful as gods, and the tower made sure to emphasize that. Ascending the floors, watching the workers shrink and shrink until they were nothing more than insignificant ants, you wonder if this is how the Aeons felt upon ascending. 

But then you remember that Aeons were unfeeling, neutral entities who probably regarded mortal lives as having even less value than insects.

“Say,” Sunday says suddenly. You shuffle closer to him in order to hear him over the other patrons. “Weren’t you supposed to be getting breakfast?”

You blink. Oh, right. That completely slipped your mind.

“I’ll get it later,” you shrug it off.

“It isn’t good to work on an empty stomach,” Sunday chides you exasperatingly. A grin slides onto your face.

“Aw, are you worried about me?” you coo, batting your eyelashes teasingly. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on drinking anytime soon.”

“That’s not-” Sunday sighs and shakes his head, pointedly turning away from you. You chuckle, sneaking a peek at the displayed floor number at the top of the elevator. Two more floors to go.

When you finally leave the elevator, you’re greeted with what is essentially a palace. Much like its exterior, the interior is layered with marble floors, chandeliers, and reeks of wealth. 

Suits and tuxedos of various colors line one side of the room, ranging from a distinguished black to a bold neon pink for those who like to stand out. The other side presents more casual wear, with comfortable shirts and pants that look simple but cost more than an average IPC member’s salary.

But what made all of them special, other than their superior quality and outrageous prices, were the open backs and windows that allowed for wings, claws, or any other limbs that may need freedom to move.

“You asked about your wings,” you explained to a befuddled Sunday, “and like I said, it’ll be tough to get them back to how they used to be. But it isn’t impossible.”

You stride over to the fancier side of the floor and pluck out a backless high-collared blouse.

“First step is letting them breathe.”

You hold the blouse out in front of Sunday in order to picture how it’d look on him. The darker colors highlight his feather-like hair and golden eyes, and the style fits. Nodding in approval, you turn it around to show Sunday.

“What do you think?”

Sunday’s ichor-filled eyes take on a more calculating gleam as he takes the blouse in his hands. 

“It isn’t terrible,” he admits begrudgingly. “Although the color is different to what I’m used to wearing.”

You stare at the navy dress shirt he has on. “Is that right?”

Sunday rolls his eyes, his wings flapping a few times in annoyance. “Blade’s color palette doesn’t exactly match my personal preferences, I’ll have you know.”

You chuckle. “Alright, alright. Well, we have an entire floor to choose from. Pick out what you like, and I’ll go see if I can find anything for you.”

You move to put the blouse back, only to stop when Sunday drapes the blouse over his arm. He raises a brow at you as if daring you to question him. Raising your hands in surrender, you head off to find him an oversized hoodie because everyone needs an oversized hoodie - and you were not about to let Sunday be the exception.

You find said hoodie in no time - it’s relatively plain, as all fancy clothes tend to be, but the material lives up to its price. After picking out a few more items, your arms are pretty much covered in what will soon be Sunday’s wardrobe. Hopefully. If they pass the test, that is.

Taking a step back, you scan the shop for Sunday. There aren’t a lot of other customers outside of the two of you, although that’s to be expected, considering the target audience of this floor. 

Your search proves unsuccessful, leaving you to assume that the Halovian had set off to the changing rooms.

“Princess, you in there?” you call out once you arrive, earning a few weird looks from nearby staff. Sure enough, a tired sigh responds from one of the stalls, giving away Sunday’s location. You don’t have to see him to know that he’s rolling his eyes.

“Yes, I’ll be out in a moment,” he replies. You hear the shuffling of cloth before he opens the door.

A low whistle leaves you at the sight of his new outfit. A black turtleneck sweater snugly hugs his body from under a chestnut wool coat that reaches just below his knees, with dress pants that match his sweater outlining his long legs.

“I’m starting to think you could wear a trash bag and still look good,” you joke. Like a baby bird, Sunday tilts his head at the compliment.

“Thank you?” he says, the tilt in his voice making it sound more like a question. His gaze falls onto the bundle of clothes that hang off your arm.

“I’m being serious!” You step into the rather spacious fitting room (perks of being in a high-end store) and set the clothes you’d picked out down. “If I’m ever in a situation where I need pretty privilege, I’m stealing you.”

Sunday closes the door behind you, taking great care not to accidentally shut it on his coat. His collection of clothes are fewer, which made sense considering that he was on the formal side and the fact that he was pickier than you when it came to fashion.

“I thought you didn’t like darker colors,” you comment, reaching into your back pocket and bringing out a pocket knife.

Before Sunday can question why you’re bringing out a knife in the middle of a clothing store, you sit down on a nearby stool and begin cutting off tags from the clothes you picked out for him. Alarmed, Sunday’s wings flare up.

“What-” Thankfully, he has the sense to lower his voice to a startled whisper. “What are you doing?”

Your fingers are fast as you rid each article of clothing from its tag. It’s evident that you’ve been doing this for years - and you have. Out of all of the Stellaron Hunters, you hate spending money the most, and stealing is fun.

“You didn’t think we were actually paying for all of this, did you?” you tease. “This place is crazy expensive.”

“...Somehow, I’m no longer surprised,” Sunday mutters, a layer of resignation and defeat in his tone. “But there are employees everywhere here. How do you plan to deal with them?”

“That,” you sing, “is a secret.”

Sunday furrows his brows, but doesn’t push. Cutting through the last of the tags, you stand up and motion for Sunday to give you the tags on the clothes he’s currently wearing.

The coat is easy; all Sunday has to do is slide it off and give it to you. It’s the turtleneck and the pants that are a bit tougher to work with.

You hear Sunday’s throat constrict as you reach behind him, your finger hooking at the high collar to find the tag. His wings bristle, and his muscles tense. You can practically hear the thump of his heart with how close you are.

“Relax,” you murmur, Sunday flinching at how close you are to his ear. “I’m not going to cut you.”

“I’m aware,” he replies, despite the nervousness wavering in his voice. You don’t miss the way his wings stiffen as the blade of your knife ghosts his neck.

Unable to help a glance down, you catch sight of his larger set of wings protruding from the back window in the sweater. Just like when Kafka had brought him in, they’re cramped and stiff, leaving you to wonder how long it had been since he’d last fully extended them. But the feathers seem to be doing better, at least.

“Mx. [Name]?” Sunday breathes out. You blink out of your thoughts.

“Ah, sorry,” you apologize. “I was just thinking.”

Deciding to take pity on the poor thing, you quickly find the tag and pull it up. A swift pull of your knife, a small snap, and it’s over. The tag joins the soon-to-be-burned pile in the corner of the stall, and Sunday heaves a sigh of relief as you step away.

“May I-” he winces at the warble in his voice- “I can do the last one.”

“You sure?” you question, handing it over anyway. “Do you even know how to use a knife?”

“I am not as sheltered as you think,” Sunday says defensively and unconvincingly. You raise your hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright. Just don’t cut yourself.” You stretch, glancing at the stall’s door. “When you’re done with that, take a look at the stuff I got you. Pick out what you like, what you don’t like I’ll either keep or give to Elio.”

Scooping up the fallen tags in your hands, you contemplate setting them on fire right then and there, but decide against it. If you were going to set off the fire alarm, it’d be better to do it after you’d already left the building.

“I’ll be heading out now,” you inform Sunday, crumpling the tags and shoving them away into your inventory. “When you hear the signal, meet me at the elevator and we’ll get out of here.”

Hesitantly, Sunday nods as he hands you back your knife. “And… what is this signal I’m supposed to look out for?”

A mischievous grin creeps onto your face.

“You’ll know.”

—

“I can’t believe you.”

You wave cheerfully to the staff as you leave, and they bow to you, none the wiser that twelve floors above lie their unconscious colleagues. Surprisingly, Sunday keeps up the farce flawlessly as he bids them farewell with a gentle smile before returning to you with an exasperated expression.

“Yes, as you’ve said about five times now,” you say casually, stepping back into the busy streets. Silently, the doors of the store slide closed behind you, the bouncers not sparing you another glance.

“When people say ‘wait for a signal’,” Sunday begins his lecture again, “they usually mean a light or a sound.”

“There was a sound, though?” you point out. Sunday deadpanned.

“The sound of twelve innocent employees knocking their heads on the floor doesn’t count.” He rubs his temple, still trying to process what just happened. “Just what did you do to them anyway?”

“Gas bomb,” you say, eyeing a man who comes dangerously close to hitting you. “Smelled nice, didn’t it?”

“Vanilla, if I recall,” Sunday affirms. “Although I do wonder why I wasn’t affected.”

You hum. “Did you cover your nose in time? The bomb I used was one of the weaker ones.”

Only the roar of the street replies to you. At Sunday’s abrupt silence, you halt in your tracks.

“Princess?” you start, only to falter once your sight falls in line with his.

Displayed proudly on an electronic billboard, snuggled amongst the various advertisements, is a picture of Sunday before the fall. There, his smile is still bright and joyful as he advertises the release of his little sister’s album to the world. He is still the Oak Family Head, still Robin’s beloved older brother, still beloved by the universe.

But all of that is crushed by the big, bold words that underline his photo.

WANTED

DEAD OR ALIVE

2,540,000,000

“Well, I’ll be damned,” you whistle appreciatively. “You’re just a few billion under Silver Wolf, and you haven’t even made your official debut yet. She is not going to be happy when she finds out.”

Sunday still doesn’t respond. When you look to check on him, you expect horror or maybe even despair, but instead, he gazes at the wanted poster with some sort of detachment, and even a little pride.

“Of all the pictures to use, they choose that…” he comments offhandedly, almost offended. You lean over his shoulder to get a better look.

“It’s cute.” You’re already fishing out your phone to take a picture. “The others are gonna love this - come on come on, we have to take a picture.”

A bemused smile slips onto Sunday’s face at your excitement. Playing along, he indulges you and poses beside his wanted poster with a peace sign. Like a mother at her child’s highschool graduation, you snap photos from all angles with the skill of a professional photographer.

“They grow up so fast,” you fake-sob, snorting when Sunday rolls his eyes despite his smile. Once you’ve finished with your impromptu photoshoot, he comes to your side to look over your shoulder as you swiftly text the group chat.

“The Stellaron Hunter… Family?” Sunday raises a brow as he reads aloud the name of your group chat.

“Yeah,” you chuckle fondly. “Silver Wolf found out that the Express’s group chat is called the Astral Express Family, so we’re parodying them.”

“Is that so?” muses Sunday, intrigued. The corners of his eyes crinkle at your antics in the chat. “For the longest time, I’ve thought of the Express and the Hunters as natural enemies, but you’re much closer than I expected. Even on Penacony, you joined forces in order to defeat me.”

“Well, Sparky has always said that we’re like two sides of the same coin,” you recall. 

“Sparky?” Sunday repeats.

“Firefly,” you clarify. “Or Sam, if that’s more familiar.”

“Do you give nicknames to everyone you meet?” Sunday asks, the question more curious rather than demeaning.

You smile. “Only to people I like.”

Your phone pings again before Sunday can fully process the meaning of your words. Checking it, you see Blade - well, it was actually Kafka, since Blade would apparently rather drown than use his phone - sending a photo in the group chat.

Clicking on the attachment reveals a design for presumably Sunday’s official uniform. Midnight black fabric flows in a striking coat with blazing azure and gold accents. Put together, elegant, yet hinting at danger, the outfit bears both a resemblance to Sunday’s previous one and a bold nod to his new life.

“Hey, look,” you beckon, eager to escape Silver Wolf’s vengeful clutches. “Kafka sent over blueprints for your uniform.”

Passing your phone to him, you look back to the billboard. Other than Sunday’s wanted poster, there’s a number of other advertisements and newspapers plastered on it. One such newspaper - or rather, a holographic video of a news reporting - catches your eye.

A Halovian girl sings on the glitchy screen, a swirling glass in one hand and the other raised to the crowd. City lines border on the night sky in a gorgeous horizon behind her, her emerald eyes reflecting the fireworks that burst in little burning lights around her.

You’d be a fool if you didn’t know who this girl was.

“Your sister is beautiful,” you say, watching as she is bathed in the limelight and adoration of the people.

Sunday glances up from your phone, his eyes softening once he catches sight of the advertisement.

“She is, isn’t she?” he says, his voice gentler than you’d ever heard it. Wistfulness and pure adoration fills him, melting the gems in his eyes and relaxing the stiffness in his shoulders. His gloved hand raises, almost hesitantly, before he lays his fingers on the billboard. “She doesn’t look hurt from the fall… Thank goodness.”

A heavy breath of relief leaves him, shouldering the burden of worry that must’ve plagued him since he’d left Penacony. Suddenly, a memory of when he’d been brought in by Kafka flashes in your mind.

His back had been bruised badly, the backs of his wings nearly crushed from the fall. He’d probably hit his head, considering how long it took for him to wake up, and you had no doubt the pain he was in when he did awaken - it had taken one of your stronger medicines to fix him back up.

“You took the brunt of the fall for your sister,” you realize. “No wonder you were in such bad shape when you came in.”

Sunday chuckles hollowly. “Of course I did. It wasn’t her who nearly imprisoned the entirety of Asdana. What older brother would I be if I allowed my kid sister to get hurt from my mistakes?”

“I’m not condemning you,” you say gently. “I would’ve done the same.”

Sunday nods, although he appears unconvinced. Eager to change the subject, he glanced back at your phone screen and the chat.

“Firefly is taking my presence much better than I anticipated,” he notes. You hum.

“Well, she doesn’t have much of a choice, does she?” You lean over to see the conversation - currently, it’s just Sunday and Kafka trading ideas for his new outfit. Surprisingly, he hasn’t made any comment about the black theme. 

“We all have pasts we want to leave behind. Being able to start anew and become more than what you were before - that’s what being a Stellaron Hunter is all about. In that sense, we’re no different from the Express.”

You elbow Sunday playfully, making sure not to hit his wings. The Halovian grunts in response, clearly not used to such gestures.

“Sparky was once in your shoes - we all were,” you say, chuckling as Sunday rubs his side (you didn’t even hit him that hard). “So there’s not too many hard feelings… Unless you stabbed her. Did you stab her? She doesn’t like getting stabbed.”

“I’m fairly certain I did not stab Firefly,” Sunday replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Snatching back your phone from Sunday, you begin to move away from the billboard, having caught sight of something far more interesting - a pharmacy. “Come on, let’s go. I just remembered, I have to pick up some groceries.”

“Groceries?” Sunday scans the surrounding streets for any sign of a grocery store or marketplace, which given Euphrosyne’s nature, obviously aren’t there.

“Uh… not those kinds of groceries.” 

—

“Why are we here."

“Why do you keep questioning me.”

“Have you perhaps considered that you do a lot of questionable things?”

“Not at all. Now be quiet, the adult is speaking.”

“You-” You kick him in the shin, a traditional method of shutting people up. The employee at the pharmacy’s desk eyes the two of you tiredly - given how late it is, you’re sure they’re nearing the end of their tortuously long shift.

“Sorry about him,” you step in front of Sunday to talk friendly with the clerk. “Long day today?”

They snorted. “You can tell?”

“Yeah,” you laugh softly, already rummaging around in your pocket. Feeling a light, paper stick, you quickly close your fingers around it. “I’d know that look anywhere. Used to see it every time I looked in the mirror.”

That brought a smile to the clerk’s face - a cynical one, yes, but a smile nevertheless. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

“Tell you what,” you snap your fingers. “I was saving this for later, but you look like you need it a lot more than I do.”

From your pocket you withdraw a small lollipop, wrapped in colorful paper with some company name plastered all over it. At the sight of the small treat, a small light shines in their eyes.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“No no no,” you shush them and push the lollipop into their hands. “It’s my treat. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you so much,” the clerk sighs gratefully, unaware of your snake-like eyes watching their every move.

“Of course,” you coo sympathetically (Sunday shudders, evidently disturbed. His face almost makes you break character). “I know just how grueling work is for you all.”

The clerk nods, unwrapping the lollipop and popping it into their mouth. “I can’t thank you enou-”

Their eyes roll, and they collapse unceremoniously onto the register with an unappealing thunk (both you and Sunday wince. That must’ve hurt). Muffled snores soon begin to roll from their lips. A few seconds pass before you prod them with your finger, but they continue to sleep unbothered.

You step back and turn to Sunday with a blank expression. “I did not know that would happen.”

Sunday crosses his arms disapprovingly. Clearly he is not convinced by your impeccable acting.

“You drugged an innocent worker.” He enunciates every word clearly, sharply, and without a shred of emotion. “Again.”

“I didn’t use gas this time though?” you point out, as if that will make it better.

Sunday sighs as you leap over the counter and start stocking up. “You could just pay like a normal, law abiding citizen.”

You pause, raising a brow pointedly. Sunday blinks, before inevitably realizing the irony of telling a Stellaron Hunter with a considerable bounty on their head to follow the law. 

“I stand corrected.”

You grin toothily. “Now you’re getting it.” 

As you grab bottles of painkillers, allergy medicines, and a plethora of other medications, you hear shuffling behind you. When you glance back, you catch a glimpse of Sunday, taking one of the jackets that you’d stolen from the bag and folding it neatly into a makeshift pillow for the clerk.

“I think they’re bruising,” Sunday mutters, barely concealing panic as he slides the pillow under the clerk’s head.

“What?” You shove the last of the medication into your inventory before turning around to check on the employee. 

You may be a criminal, but you aren’t a monster. If you could do anything about it, you’d prefer not to hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That’s why the concoctions you use with civilians are gentler, only instilling a small nap and short-term memory loss to whoever came in contact with them.

Lightly, you tilt the clerk’s head up to make sure the lollipop was still in their mouth. Thankfully, it was, and predictably, it was almost entirely disintegrated. 

“It should kick in in a sec.”

“Sorry?” Worry overtakes Sunday’s voice for a moment.

“Hold on…” you narrow your eyes, closely monitoring the clerk’s state. If you’d made a miscalculation, you’d have to heal them the normal way.

But it seems that the Aeons are looking down on you, for a pale-colored light soon begins to flutter from the clerk. A relieved smile breaks out, and you gently let the clerk’s head rest back on the jacket.

“There we go.”

The light glows briefly, centering around the clerk’s head, and the bruise begins to fade - slowly but surely ebbing away until it’s completely gone. Hopping back over the counter, you pat Sunday on the shoulder.

“They’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Let’s get out of here before they wake up.”

Wordlessly, he follows, glimpsing back at the clerk one last time before following you out of the pharmacy. For a moment, pure, yet serene silence hangs between the two of you as you walk down the crowded streets.

After what seems like a tranquil eternity, Sunday finally breaks the silence.

“What was that?”

You shift the clothes bags from one hand to the other. “Didn’t you see it back at the clothing store?”

He shakes his head wordlessly, which you can only tell he did because of the slight rustle of feathers against hair.

“When it comes to civilians, my creations are laced with a tiny bit of my power.” Euphrosyne has three moons, and all of them in the violet sky, you notice. “That way, there’s no lasting damage. I mean, it’s not their fault that their company is a good robbery target.”

Sunday ignores the last sentence. “You fed me something similar when we met, if I recall. One second I was in excruciating pain, and the next there was no pain at all. Was that candy also imbued with your abilities?”

“Yep,” you confirm. “Although you got the variant that’s for allies.”

“I figured, considering I didn’t immediately pass out,” Sunday hums out a laugh. “Although… I will say it puts me at ease, knowing that none of those workers were hurt during our escapades.”

You smile teasingly. “Aw, were you having a guilty conscience?”

“Of course,” he huffs.

“Well, you don’t have to anymore,” you say lightheartedly. “Rest assured knowing that out of all the crimes I’ve committed, assaulting someone who didn’t start the fight isn’t one of them.”

“You certainly have a way with words,” sighs Sunday, but he’s smiling. “But thank you, I suppose.”

“You’re very welcome, princess.”

For once, Sunday doesn’t give you a dirty or unimpressed look at the nickname. Rather, he keeps walking by your side. In the dim light of Euphrosyne’s moons, you can barely make out his face, and so you miss the bemused smile that slips onto his face.

“You know,” he says, “you still haven’t eaten yet.”

You stare at him. “Oh. Right.”

Sunday snorts knowingly. “Of course. There’s a food cart near that building over there. You don’t plan on drugging the chef now, do you?”

“Nah,” you wave your hand dismissively. “I respect food cart workers.”

“So you do have morals.”

“How could you say that after I healed someone?”

“You mean, after you did the bare minimum?”

You punch him in the arm. “I’m not liking your attitude, young man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sunday says cheekily. You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to respond.

But then something wet hits your cheek, and then another joins it. Panicked screams and stomps erupt around you as people rush for shelter. You gingerly touch your cheek. The drop on your cheek doesn’t sting, thankfully.

“These people… quite like to overact, don’t they,” Sunday observes, as everyone stampedes for cover. “It isn’t even raining that much.”

“Eh, you know how rich people are,” you giggle, wiping your cheek. “But this is a surprise. Rain rarely appears on Euphrosyne, at least from what I’ve heard.”

“Agreed-” A man crashes into Sunday, the Halovian barely able to hold the two of them from falling on the pavement. 

The man’s things clatter to the floor, one of which being an umbrella that he… apparently didn’t know how to use. Curses spew from the man’s lips, his face turning red as he glares daggers at Sunday. The Halovian’s smile is tight as he straightens the man.

“Please be careful, sir,” he says passive-aggressively, customer service mode activated in full force to hold him back from committing murder. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

The man doesn’t bother to listen. He shakes an angry finger in Sunday’s face, grabbing what he can off the floor before running off. You stare awkwardly at his trail of dust before turning back to Sunday.

“You handled that better than I would’ve,” you say after a few minutes. Sunday exhales heavily, massaging his temple.

“Naturally. I worked with buffoons like that on the daily,” he mutters. “But it seems experience doesn’t make it any more bearable.”

You pat his shoulder. “Well, it’s over now.”

“Yes,” Sunday hums, bending down to pick something up. When he straightens, you see the man’s umbrella in Sunday’s hands. “I suppose it is.”

You blink. “When did you get that?”

“Just now,” he says sarcastically. “But I did kick it out of the way while he was cursing me out, if that clarifies things.”

You stare dumbfoundedly as he opens up the umbrella, acting as if he hasn’t done anything wrong in his life. Holding it above both of your heads, he offers it to you with a smug smirk you aren’t sure you like.

“Well? Shall we?”

You break out of your daze. Pride swells in your chest and you join him, snickering.

“They really do grow fast, huh?”

—

Somewhere near, in Penacony, Firefly stares at her phone nervously. Her body still singes from the burst of fireworks in which she’d experienced her third and final death on the Planet of Festivities, but it’s the least of her worries right now.

She rereads the chat just to confirm her suspicions. She’d already been skeptical when you suddenly asked Silver Wolf to get Sunday’s things, but this just outright confirms it.

Sunday, the man she’d just helped run over with a train at least eight times, the convicted criminal by both the Family and the IPC, the former Oak Family Head who’d tried to imprison her in an eternal dream, is now her coworker.

It isn’t like she wishes anything bad upon him; in essence, she understands that what he did was out of noble intentions and a wish to help the weak. But it had only been a few days at most since she’d last seen the Halovian, and here he was again.

She glances up at the fake sky of the dreamscape. The Radiant Feldspar soars overhead, and on board is Robin, Sunday’s sister who never stopped looking for him.

Firefly’s feet shift uncomfortably. It’s getting hard to breathe. With the Order’s protection lifted, the effects of her Entropy Loss Syndrome return, although not as bad as in reality.

Should she tell Robin? The songstress has been going mad with worry over her missing brother, and it probably hasn’t helped that the Family Heads’ lips are sealed regarding his fate. But Robin is singing right now, and Firefly doesn’t want to ruin that.

She shakes her head. No, she can’t say that. This is Robin’s brother, for Aeons’ sake. And she knows that Robin must be suffering right now, despite the smile she wears for the crowd.

Firefly exhales deeply. She pulls out her phone.

Here goes nothing.

<< previous || series masterlist || next chapter >>

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter Two

<<< Chapter One

Your eyes widen when you see Chiron being half horse half man.

"You are a centaur"

Chiron chuckles at your shocked expression.

"Indeed, I'm, and I'm here to guide you"

"Thank you, sir"

"Are you not going to greet me, (Wrong name)?"

You turn your eyes to stare at the dark haired dark eyes man with confusion.

"My name is (Y/n)" you correct him before asking "And you are?"

"Dionysus"

"As in the god who has a cult?"

"That's me, I miss my cult"

You nod in agreement, unsure if that was meant to be humor or a genuine confession.

"Yes, I used to rule an entire cult in ancient Greece. They all worshipped me and offered me sacrifices."

You feel a twinge of unease at the thought of being in a cult, especially one led by a god like Dionysus.

Still, you don't want to be rude, so you just smile politely and say.

"That's... great."

Dionysus nods, seemingly satisfied with your response.

"Well then," he says,

"Shall we continue on? I can show you around the camp and introduce you to some of the other demigods."

Chiron frowns, looking at Dionysus, finding his behaviour strange.

Dionysus is never friendly towards any demigod.

But now, he is offering to show you around.

Chiron never understood the gods obsession with you.

He assumed it has something to do with your powers.

"There is no need, but thank you for the offer, Luke showed me around the camp"

You say before turning towards the centaur.

"I will be going now if that's all"

The moment you take your leave, Dionysus sighs in disappointment.

"If only she was my daughter"

°°°

The cabin is all pastel pink and surrounded by flowers and cherubs statues, and it is also close to Aphrodite's cabin, which is not surprising.

But what made you uncomfortable is the glass window in your room.

You will need curtains for that later.

What is surprising is that you found tons of gifts on your bed and your wardrobe is filled with clothes.

And a note that says 'From your beloved grandmother. Aphrodite'

Also there are gifts from different deities.

For example, Hermes gave you a golden caduceus pendant with a blue diamond.

Apollo gave you healing potions.

Ares gifted you a dagger and also has a note with it 'Sharp enough to kill your enemies'

But what astonished you the most is the gift from Etos, it's a music box.

A cherubs music box, when you turn it on, it starts playing very enchanting music.

There is a long letter too.

My sweet demigoddess,

I write to you on this fine day to express my deepest love and adulation for you.

Your strength, courage, and power all demonstrate your divine ancestry, and your beauty and grace shine with the warmth of the sun.

My heart aches for you from far away, and all I desire is to embrace you in my arms and to watch you flourish with all that you are and can be.

This music box is a gift from me, once it starts playing, all monsters will flock away from you.

From your father,

Eros.

The strong fragrance on the letter makes you calm down.

To be honest, you don't hate Eros even though he never was by your side when you grew up.

Maybe the new life for you here, isn't bad after all.

°°°

"Capture the flag? As in fighting other demigods? no thank you"

You say, walking by Percy's side.

The boy showed up at your doorsteps first thing in the morning, and asked you to walk with him.

"Don't worry, I will protect you, if you stay by my side" 

You stop and look at Percy and cross your arms over your chest.

"Why did you tell Luke that I'm your girlfriend?" you inquire.

Percy smiles.

"Because you have always been my girlfriend, remember in grade one where you wanted to marry me and made a promis-"

You quickly stop him, your cheeks heating up from the childhood memories.

"I was a child"

"I don't care, a promise is a promise"

"What if I fall for another?"

Percy shrugs, with the smile still on his face.

"It would be like Icarus flying too close to the sun"

You raise an eyebrow but he continues.

"Another might get close to you but they will never reach you before they fall to their deaths"

Chapter Three >>>

[andy-15-07]

A Night in Venice

Pairing! Drew Starkey x reader

Words count: 3032

Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

The gentle lapping of the waves against the wooden stilts of the Venetian docks created a rhythmic melody that floated through the air, mingling with the distant sounds of laughter and conversation from nearby cafés. The golden hour had painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, reflecting off the canals and the city’s intricate architecture. Venice was always enchanting, but tonight, it felt like magic was in the air. Drew Starkey stood at the edge of the dock, dressed in a sleek blue tuxedo that hugged his frame perfectly, a calm smile playing on his lips. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked out at the horizon, but his thoughts were far from the city’s beauty or even the prestigious Venice Film Festival, where his new movie Queer had just premiered to a standing ovation. Instead, they were on Y/N, who was a few steps behind, adjusting the strap of her dress.

Y/N had been there through it all. The late nights running lines, the exhaustion, the anxiety, and the triumphs. Drew had always been grateful for her, but tonight, seeing her standing there in the soft light, wearing a flowing gown that accentuated her every curve, he felt his heart swell with even more love.

"Do you ever get tired of looking so beautiful?" Drew teased, turning towards her with a grin that melted into a more sincere expression. He held out his hand, and Y/N took it, stepping closer to him.

"If I do, I’ll let you know," Y/N replied, a playful twinkle in her eyes. She squeezed his hand, her touch warm and familiar. "But right now, I’m more interested in getting lost in this city with you."

Drew chuckled, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "We’ll have plenty of time for that. The night’s still young. But first, there’s something I want to do."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Drew leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "You’ll see."

With that, he led her down the narrow streets, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestones. The festival had brought a buzz to Venice, but Drew knew exactly where to go to avoid the crowds. They wandered through the labyrinth of alleyways, passing under bridges and beside quiet canals. The city had a way of making you feel like you were the only two people in the world, and in that moment, Drew couldn’t have been happier.

Finally, they arrived at a small, secluded square with a single bench overlooking the water. The only sounds were the gentle ripples in the canal and the distant murmur of the festival in the background. Drew guided Y/N to the bench and sat down beside her, the soft fabric of their clothes brushing against each other.

"Drew, this is beautiful," Y/N said softly, her eyes wide as she took in the serene scene.

"I thought you might like it," Drew replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "But there’s more."

Y/N looked up at him, curiosity and affection shining in her gaze. "What do you mean?"

Drew reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what it was. She turned to him, her eyes searching his, but before she could say anything, Drew opened the box to reveal a delicate ring, the diamond catching the light from the setting sun.

"Y/N," Drew began, his voice low and filled with emotion, "I’ve been trying to find the right words all night, but nothing seems enough. You’ve been with me through everything—my ups, my downs, my fears, and my dreams. You’re my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the love of my life. And I can’t imagine spending another day without you by my side as my wife."

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand, overwhelmed with emotion. "Drew���"

Drew’s heart pounded in his chest as he continued, "So, here in Venice, a place as timeless and beautiful as you, I’m asking you… Will you marry me?"

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air was thick with anticipation, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. Then, with a tearful laugh, Y/N threw her arms around Drew, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "Yes, Drew, I’ll marry you."

Drew felt a wave of relief and pure joy wash over him as he hugged her back, his eyes closing as he breathed in the moment. When they finally pulled apart, he slipped the ring onto her finger, the perfect fit symbolizing how perfect they were for each other.

They sat there for a while, wrapped up in each other and the beauty of the city around them. Venice had always been known for its romance, and now, it held an even more special place in their hearts.

After a while, Drew broke the silence with a soft chuckle. "You know, when I signed on to do Queer, I thought the most nerve-wracking part would be the premiere. But proposing to you? That was a whole new level."

Y/N laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. "I had no idea you were planning this. You kept it a secret so well."

"I wanted it to be perfect," Drew said, kissing the top of her head. "And seeing the look on your face when I asked… It was worth every bit of the stress."

They both laughed softly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. The tension had finally melted away, leaving behind a warm, content feeling.

As the evening continued, they wandered back towards the heart of the city, hand in hand, the ring on Y/N’s finger glinting under the streetlights. They passed other couples, tourists, and locals, all oblivious to the magical moment Drew and Y/N had just shared.

Eventually, they found themselves near the famous Rialto Bridge, where the festival’s afterparty was in full swing. The energy of the crowd was contagious, and Drew couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as they joined the festivities. But despite the glamour and the flashing lights, all Drew could think about was the woman by his side.

They danced together, swaying to the music with the lights of Venice twinkling around them. Drew’s hands were firm on Y/N’s waist, guiding her gently as they moved in perfect sync. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own private bubble.

"You’re a pretty good dancer," Y/N teased, her voice barely audible over the music.

Drew grinned, dipping her slightly before pulling her back up. "You make it easy."

As they danced, Drew couldn’t help but think about how far they had come. From their first meeting on the set of Outer Banks, to the quiet moments they shared away from the spotlight, to now, standing in the heart of Venice, celebrating not just his career, but the love they had built together. It felt like a dream, but the warmth of Y/N in his arms grounded him in the reality of it all.

As the night wore on, they eventually found themselves sitting on the edge of the canal, their feet dangling over the water. The afterparty had died down, leaving the city quiet and serene once more.

"Drew," Y/N began, her voice soft as she gazed out at the water. "I’ve been thinking… about us, and about everything we’ve been through."

Drew turned to her, his heart skipping a beat. "What is it?"

Y/N looked at him, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "I know we’ve talked about it before, but now, with the ring and everything, it feels even more real. I want to be with you, Drew. I want to build a life with you, wherever that takes us."

Drew felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to her. "I want that too, Y/N. More than anything."

"But what about the distance?" Y/N continued, her voice wavering slightly. "Your career is taking off, and there’s going to be so much travel, so many commitments… I don’t want us to lose what we have."

Drew took a deep breath, understanding the weight of her words. "Y/N, I’ve thought about that too. And honestly, I’m not going to lie and say it won’t be hard. But I believe we can make it work. We’ve always found a way to be there for each other, no matter what. And now, with this ring, it’s a promise. A promise that I’ll always come back to you, no matter where I go."

Y/N looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt. But all she saw was sincerity and love. "Do you really believe that?"

"I do," Drew said firmly, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently. "And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure we don’t lose what we have. I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of relief and happiness. "I love you too, Drew. So much."

They sat there in silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water against the canal walls. The weight of their conversation hung in the air, but it was a good weight—a reassuring one.

Eventually, Y/N leaned her head on Drew’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers. They stayed like that for a while, soaking in the quietness of the night, the only witnesses to their love being the ancient buildings of Venice and the stars above.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Drew chuckled softly, the memory clear in his mind. "Of course I do. You were the new production assistant on set, and I think I was more nervous to meet you than I was for my first scene that day."

Y/N smiled, recalling the way Drew had stumbled over his words when he first introduced himself. "You were so serious, but I could see the kindness in your eyes. I knew from that moment that you were different."

Drew tilted his head to rest against hers, his voice soft as he spoke. "And I knew, from the moment you smiled at me, that I wanted to get to know you. I didn’t know then that we’d end up here, but I’m so glad we did."

Y/N looked up at him, her heart swelling with affection. "Me too, Drew. Every step of the way has been worth it, even the hard parts."

They fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that only comes when two people know each other deeply. Drew’s fingers traced lazy patterns on Y/N’s hand as they sat there, both of them content just to be together.

"Can I tell you something?" Drew asked after a while, his voice hesitant.

"Of course," Y/N replied, lifting her head to look at him.

Drew took a deep breath, his expression turning serious. "I was so nervous before the premiere tonight. Not just because of the film, but because I knew I was going to propose. I kept thinking about all the things that could go wrong, how I might mess it up…"

Y/N smiled, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. "But you didn’t mess it up, Drew. It was perfect. You were perfect."

Drew’s eyes softened as he looked at her, his heart swelling with love. "You make me feel like I can do anything, Y/N. Even when I’m doubting myself, you’re there to remind me that I’m enough. And I want you to know that I’ll always do the same for you."

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears again, but she blinked them back, not wanting to cry anymore tonight. "I know you will, Drew. That’s why I said yes."

Drew smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. It was a gentle, tender kiss, full of the love and promises they had just made to each other. When they pulled back, Drew rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he breathed in her familiar scent.

"I love you so much, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Drew," Y/N replied, her voice equally soft. "And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other and savoring the moment. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them and the love they shared.

Eventually, the cool night air began to settle in, and Y/N shivered slightly. Drew noticed and immediately shrugged off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

"Thank you," Y/N murmured, snuggling into the warmth of his jacket.

Drew smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Anything for you."

They got up and slowly made their way back to their hotel, the city of Venice quiet and peaceful around them. When they reached their room, Drew held the door open for Y/N, and she walked in, turning to watch as he closed the door behind them.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Drew pulled Y/N into his arms, holding her close. "I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of holding you," he murmured into her hair.

Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Good, because I’m not planning on letting you go."

They stood there in the middle of the room, holding each other as the reality of the night finally settled in. They were engaged. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

"I’m the luckiest man in the world," Drew whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes shining with love. "And I’m the luckiest woman."

Drew leaned down to kiss her again, this time with more passion, more urgency. The kiss deepened quickly, and before they knew it, they were tangled up in each other, their bodies pressed together as they stumbled toward the bed.

Drew’s hands roamed over Y/N’s body, memorizing every curve, every inch of her. Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with just as much fervor.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath.

"I love you," Drew said again, his voice filled with so much emotion it made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, her voice just as breathless.

They spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other, whispering sweet nothings and making promises for the future. They talked about their wedding, their dreams, and the life they were going to build together. And when they finally fell asleep, it was with their arms around each other, their hearts full of love and contentment.

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Drew woke up first, his eyes slowly opening to find Y/N still asleep beside him. She looked so peaceful, her hair splayed out on the pillow, her lips slightly parted.

Drew smiled, his heart swelling with love as he watched her. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

Y/N stirred slightly at his touch, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw Drew watching her, she smiled sleepily, her heart skipping a beat at the look of pure adoration in his eyes.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning, beautiful," Drew replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

They stayed in bed for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence and the quiet of the morning. Eventually, they got up and got ready for the day, but the magic of the night before still lingered in the air.

As they walked hand in hand through the streets of Venice, Drew couldn’t help but feel like he was walking on air. Everything felt perfect, from the way the sun warmed his skin to the way Y/N’s hand fit perfectly in his.

They spent the day exploring the city, visiting the famous landmarks and indulging in the local cuisine. But no matter where they went or what they did, Drew’s mind kept drifting back to the fact that Y/N was now his fiancée. The thought filled him with a sense of joy and excitement that he had never felt before.

At one point, they found themselves back at the square where Drew had proposed the night before. They sat down on the same bench, the memory of the proposal still fresh in their minds.

"Last night feels like a dream," Y/N said softly, her eyes reflecting the soft light of the afternoon.

Drew smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "A beautiful dream."

Y/N turned to look at him, her expression serious. "Do you think this will last? This feeling?"

Drew’s smile softened as he looked into her eyes. "I think it will, as long as we keep choosing each other every day. Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s a choice. And I’m choosing you, Y/N. Every day, for the rest of my life."

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, and she squeezed his hand tightly. "I’m choosing you too, Drew. Always."

They sat there for a while longer, just enjoying the moment and the quiet understanding that had settled between them. They didn’t need to say anything more; their love spoke for itself.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the city, Drew and Y/N made their way back to their hotel, their hearts full of love and contentment. They knew that their journey together was just beginning, and that there would be challenges ahead. But they also knew that as long as they had each other, they could face anything that came their way.

That night, as they lay in bed, their bodies intertwined and their hearts beating in sync, Drew whispered into the darkness, "I can’t wait to marry you."

Y/N smiled, her eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep. "I can’t wait either."

And with that, they both fell asleep, knowing that they had found something truly special in each other. Something that would last a lifetime.

[m-artsoul]

20/05/23

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please, let me bring my man. when he comes, tell me that you'll let him in. all that grace, all that body, all that face, he's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

reply to be added to the tag list

NOTE: i need a post-canon destiel reunion with dean sobbin and havin a runny nose and all that stuff. 

lyrics from Lana Del Rey’s ‘young and beautiful’

tag list: @gaymishacollins ; @dakrapatops ; @hauntedpearl ; @vwwingsandthings ; @your-endless-oblivion

[munsonsmixtapes]

hiii i’m wondering if i could put in a request??? 💕

it’s my birthday today and i cannnotfft stop thinking about waking up to eddie (munson btw) just slurping at my pussy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 and he just wants to love you and show you how much he loves you by fucking you like you guys are animals in heat and we’re just going at it like rabbits 🤤🤤

Sorry this is a bit late, but happy belated birthday, lovely! I did change it up a little bit, but I still hope you like it!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

CW: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) anal, oral (fem receiving) Eddie leaves hickeys all over reader's body, Eddie has a slight degradation kink, cockwarming

Sun seeped in through the blinds, stirring you from your sleep. You turned to your left to see Eddie sleeping peacefully next to you. Every time you looked at him, you felt nothing but grateful to have a partner like him. Someone who cared for you, wanting to give you whatever he could if it meant you'd be happy.

Your gaze moved to the shining diamond on your ring finger, holding it up so the sun could shine on it. Eddie had proposed the night before and you were still in disbelief that you had lucked out so well in the romance department.

You felt Eddie pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, moving closer so you could feel his bare, rock hard cock against your ass. You both had been tangled in the sheets for hours to celebrate your engagement and hadn't even bothered to change into pajamas. But that was how you both ended up most nights anyway, not being able to keep your hands off of each other, always ending up in the bedroom one way or another.

"Happy birthday," he whispered in your ear. "Do you want your gift now or later?" He asked, his breath tickling your neck.

"Now," you responded, knowing exactly what he was getting at. He rolled you onto your back and placed himself on top of you, taking no time to press his lips to yours.

"I did actually get you a gift, but thought I'd give you this first," he said against your lips.

"What'd you get me?"

"Later, hon," he pressed a kiss to your lips. "I'm about to do my best work." His lips moved to your cheek then down to your neck, licking and sucking on the spot, warming you up for the main event.

You grabbed onto his arms, letting him know that you were enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. A moan passed your lips and your grip got even tighter as his teeth grazed the skin. He knew exactly how to drive you wild, what made you go absolutely crazy.

Your back arched and you could feel your first orgasm rolling through you. You had never gotten there so fast, but Eddie was just so talented in that area. He was always able to make you cum in a matter of minutes, but that just meant that you could go for more rounds throughout the night.

His lips moved down to your collarbone, nipping and sucking at the skin, peppering it with kisses. He was fully intending to leave hickeys on every spot he could reach, wanting you to see just how much he loved you just by him using his mouth.

He finally got to your tits, wanting to give them special attention since he knew you liked it so much. He pressed a gentle kiss to the spot in between them then kissed it again, mixing in his tongue with it, letting it stroke against your warm skin. He then went in and gave the spot a rough suck, wanting it to be purple by the time he was done with it.

Eddie continued to lick and suck on the spot, knowing that you were loving it by how you were now tugging on his hair and the delicious moans that were falling from your lips. He had you where he wanted you and had no intention of stopping any time soon. It was your birthday and he had every intention making you feel like the queen you were.

"Fuck, Eddie," you moaned and he chuckled as he pulled away from you, absolutely eating up how fucked out you already looked. He couldn't wait until he was finally done with you to see what you looked like even though he very much knew.

"There's more where that came from, doll," he winked then moved over to one of your tits. He began to suck on the side of it and once he was done, he moved to the other side before going in for your nipple. He licked a stripe across it and looked down at you to see your glare. He loved to tease you and you fell for it every time.

"Eddie, please," you begged, wanting him to get on with it, feeling yourself already getting soaked. And if he didn't do something soon, you swore you were going to just have to do it yourself.

"Alright," he sighed. "I know it's your birthday, but that doesn't mean you get to act like a brat."

"Then stop teasing."

"Fine, but you asked for it." he went straight for your nipple, taking it between his teeth and giving it a tug.

"Fuck," you mewled, yanking his hair in response. You let out another scream as you reached your second orgasm in record speed. Eddie licked a stripe across your nipple before laying you back down onto to the mattress, letting you come down before he moved on.

Once you were all settled, he grabbed onto the blanket and pulled it over his as he moved lower, getting exactly where he had wanted to be all morning. He wasn't shy about letting you know that he liked eating you out the most. Nine times out of ten, that was what he was doing when the two of you were together. He just couldn't get enough of you and the way you tasted.

You sat up and rested your back against the headboard so it would be more comfortable and you felt him grab onto your thighs, spreading your legs apart and he took no time to dive in, going straight for your cunt.

You let out a gasp, the sensation of his mouth on your cunt always surprising you at first. Your hands moved to his hair once again in preparation as you knew you'd need something to grab on.

Eddie mouthed on your cunt, swirling his tongue around it before going in for a suck. It was soft at first, but quickly got harder as he got more desperate, more hungry for you.

Your fingers dug into his scalp as he worked, wanting this part to never end. He was always so good in this area, knowing exactly what to do to make you lose your goddamn mind every time.

He then licked a stripe along your slit, slowly, then moving his tongue back and forth at a rapid rate before grazing the sensitive spot with his teeth, that movement already unleashing something inside of you. Just when you were reaching the edge, he stuck his whole tongue inside of you, making you pull on his hair even harder.

“Fuck, oh my god, Eddie,” you whined. His tongue curved and hit just the right spot, making your vision go hazy. You reached your third orgasm, but Eddie was still going, fully intending to get you to your fourth. He wanted to see how many times he could make you cum that morning.

He continued, his tongue swirling, curving in another direction and by the way you were practically pulling his hair out, he could tell that you were close once again.

Your back arched one more time and this time you screamed his name, reaching completion and Eddie was reluctant to pull away, wanting to taste you forever. He could never get enough of it, fully content with doing it for hours and you would have let him.

You pulled the cover away from you so Eddie could move and he crawled up to rest his head on your chest, giving the two of you time to rest before you continued. One of your hands rested on his bare back, rubbing lazy circles along it while your other one moved to his hair, running your fingers through it, knowing that he wanted you to do so without even having to ask.

He pulled away briefly, resting his chin on your chest, wanting to look you in the eye, seeing that you were already looking at him with so much love in his eyes. God, he really did win the lottery with you.

You pushed his hair behind his ears then pressed a brief kiss to his lips before pulling away, a smile playing on your own that he couldn’t help but mimic. He really ridiculed love you with everything he had and now you were going to be his wife.

He grabbed hold of your hand and pressed a kiss to your ring before pulling away to admire it. He wasn’t trying to brag, but he nailed the choice, especially since he had caught you staring at it on multiple occasions the night before.

“I love you,” he said, no longer able to hide the smile on his face and god, did he have a pretty one. It was the one that you knew was only for you, all teeth, filled with nothing but pure joy and love, the whole thing in his loving eyes. The dark brown always softening when he looked at you.

“I love you too,” you replied, pulling him in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper, the two of you pouring out all the love you had for each other into it. And Eddie took no time to stick his tongue between your lips and you let him, eager to make it more hot as you were becoming hungry for him again.

His arms wrapped around your waist tightly, wanting you to feel his cock against you so you could see just how hard he was for you. And you took notice because you were quick to pull away from him, giving him that look that he knew all too well.

He didn’t bother grabbing a condom since he knew you liked to feel him inside you with no barrier. He didn’t do it often, but he thought this was a special occasion with it being your birthday and all.

He leaned up and lined his already very leaky cock with your cunt and pounded into you, knowing exactly what you needed and you moaned loudly at the sensation. He pinned you to the mattress and and continued, loving to see that you were already coming undone.

“You just lay there and look pretty, okay? This is about you and I want you to enjoy every minute.”

He continued to pound into you, his movements nothing but fast and hard and you already knew that you were going to have to call out of the work the next day if he was going to keep at it.

You watched him as your breathing picked up, looking down to where you were connected, loving how you well you fit together. Every time he fucked you, it was nothing but perfect as he knew exactly what you liked since you had been together for so long. And now you were going to be together forever.

You watched him, seeing his own orgasm building, never quite getting used to how hot he looked when he got off. The way his mouth was wide open, his hair all wild, pouring sweat. That image was burned into your head 24/7 and you would never get tired of seeing him like that.

“Taking me so well, doll. Think you can take all of me?” You didn’t know why he was asking. You could and had on multiple occasions.

“Know I can,” you breathed, feeling yourself slowly getting tired, but you weren’t quite finished. You still had a bit of energy left and you were fully prepared to keep going until your words were slurring.

Eddie kept pumping, each time slowly putting more of himself inside you until he fit the whole thing. He could see on your face that it was a lot, but knew that you would have been upset if you had told him to stop.

He could feel himself getting close and he quickly pulled out, letting his cum leak out all over his cock. He was quick to clean himself up and turned to the giant mirror that was sitting on top of the dresser that was across from the bed, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

He faced it then slowly turned to you, the gears turning in his head as his idea was suddenly becoming the only thing he could think about. He had to fuck you in front of that mirror and he had to do it right then.

Eddie moved to end of the bed and held his hands out for you and you took them without question, putting your full trust in him just like always. He helped you up from the bed and wrapped his arms around your waist, helping you over to the dresser since he knew that your legs were already starting to feel like jello.

Your profiles were facing the dresser as he pressed his lips to yours, slow and sloven as he took his time. You were pliant under his touch as you let him take what he wanted, tilting your head to the side so he could reach you from another angle, his tongue sliding into your mouth once again. This time, he let it roam around the area, almost as if he was on the hunt for something, but really, he wanted to taste you, never getting tired of how your mouth always tasted so sweet no matter what.

“Turn around,” he commanded against your lips and you did as he asked, turning your back towards him. “Hands on the dresser.” You put your hands on the dresser and Eddie felt himself getting hard again as he thought about your hands scratching it, leaving nails marks into it as he pounded into your ass.

He roughly took your chin in his hand and forced you to look into the mirror. It was odd look at yourself post sex with your hair all wild and sweat making your skin sticky, but you kind of liked the way you looked. Staring at your bare chest was different, though. You hadn’t done it very often, but now you were able to get a good look at all of the hickeys that peppered it. It was something just between you and Eddie. A little secret.

“I want you to look at yourself when I fuck you,” he said, his voice low. “Want you to see what I see. Want you to get off on how hot you are.” You could feel yourself getting wet already because that always seemed to happen when he was bossing you around. You really wished he did more often. You loved being told what to do.

Eddie leaned forward, his lips right by the shell of your ear. His hot breath made goosebumps rise on your skin and you could have cum just from that alone. His other rested on your hip, his fingers digging into it. You let out a gasp, but couldn’t hide how much you liked it.

“And honey, you look so hot,” he said, his voice getting even lower. “Look at you. Fuck,” The last word came out so harsh, the air passing through his teeth making chill run down your spine. Just when you thought you were going weak in the knees, he brought your earlobe between his teeth and gave it a little nibble, causing a little laugh to pass through your lips.

He moved back, removing his hand from your face and bringing it down to your other hip, digging his fingers into it just like he had done with the other one. You had hoped that it would leave bruises, a physical reminder of the morning you had spent together.

“Stay just like that.” With seemingly no warning, he pounded into you and you watched yourself just like he told you to and seeing yourself moan was a whole different experience. Watching your mouth fall open and actually paying attention to the sounds you were making only made you feel more confident.

Eddie continued to pound into you, not being able to help but stare at you, seeing how in love with yourself you were becoming. Now you were seeing what he saw every time he fucked you. He wondered if that would have made you even more confident in the bedroom, wondering if now you’d boss him around.

“Yeah, that’s it. See how fucking got you are, doll?” But you weren’t looking at yourself anymore. You were looking at him. You liked seeing him from that angle. Finally seeing what he looked like when he was behind you made you feel even more connected to him.

“No,” you shook your head. “Only see how hot you are. I love how you look behind me.” You always knew exactly what to say to make him go weak in the knees.

“Just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“Never.” He pounded even harder into you and tried to fight his smile as he saw how hard you were white knuckling the dresser. Your head was turning to the side and he couldn’t have that. You were getting close again and he really needed to see you watch yourself orgasm. It would be his wet dream come to life and he just wanted to be selfish for a split second.

He brought his hand up to your chin again and forced your gaze back to the mirror. You looked into it, getting close to your final orgasm of the morning. After this, there was no way you had anything left in you.

You looked into the mirror as you reached your peak, Eddie’s name falling from your lips in a scream. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced. If that was really what you looked like when you orgasmed, then no wonder Eddie always wanted to fuck you. You looked so hot and you weren’t even ashamed to admit it.

You continued to look at your reflection as you came down. Eddie had already pulled out, but you were afraid to move, your legs seconds away from giving out. He could see your sweat hands slipping from the dresser and was quick to pick you up. He carried you to the bed and laid you down on your side before placing himself on top of you, the thing he always did after you slept together.

And right on cue, he slid his cock inside with no intention other than cockwarming. And you let him as you thought that it was a far more intimate version of cuddling. Your arms wrapped around each other, the only sound that could be heard was the traffic outside your window and the sounds of your heavy breathing as you both calmed down from your activity.

Being there like that was something that you could have done forever. All you ever wanted was to be wrapped up in Eddie’s arms since that was the safest you ever felt. It was where you felt your most comfortable. It was home. And as you lifted your hand for both of you to look at your ring, all you could think about was how excited you were to start the next chapter with your fiancé.

[dmwrites]

One day, Joe Hills set out with a shovel in his hands. He slung it over one shoulder, whistling as he walked.

“Hey Joe, whatcha got there?” TangoTek asked, carrying blocks of ice.

“Oh, just a shovel.” Joe replied. “But it’s ice to see you, TangoTek.”

TangoTek laughed. Joe laughed. They both walked down the path in opposite directions.

It was a good day for a walk. The birds were singing and the sun was shining. But birds were not the only things singing! Joe walked over a hill to find BdoubleO singing loud and clear as he cut down a tree.

“Sir Joe! How wonderful to see you!” BdoubleO said, wiping away sweat on his face.

“Howdy, BdoubleO, why are you chopping down a tree?” Joe asked. He moved his shovel to his other shoulder so it would not hurt him.

“Why, I am using the wood to build a beautiful house!” BdoubleO said. He had big, twinkling eyes and an even bigger smile. “Why do you have a shovel, Joe?”

“I have a hole I need to dig.” Joe said. “And I must not be late for it. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye Joe!” BdoubleO said, waving.

The day was getting warm, and Joe Hills stopped by a river to get a drink of water. He saw his friend Cubfan at the river too!

“Howdy, Cubfan!” Joe called, waving.

“Hey Joe, whats up?” Cubfan asked. He was holding a raw cod fish and a fist full of glittery red redstone dust.

“I was just taking a break, I’ve been walking for a while today. What are you doing here, Cubfan?” Joe asked.

Cubfan looked all around at the grass and the trees, like he was looking for something in particular. Then he took out five diamonds and gave them to Joe!

“Nothing at all. Got it? If anyone asks, I was drinking from the river, same as you. Alright, man?”

Joe thought the diamonds were a very nice gift, and put them in his pocket. “Thanks, Cubfan! Indeed, I saw nothing!”

Cubfan smiled at Joe- he was always so fun to hang out with. Joe wondered why Cubfan looked like he was sweating.

“So what’s with the shovel, Joe?”

“I have an appointment. Very important stuff.” Joe said. “And I should probably get going before the sun sets! Goodbye, Cubfan! Enjoy your nothing!”

The day was beginning to turn into night. The sky was oranges and reds and pinks. Joe walked a little faster- he didn’t want to be late!

Then he came to a fork in the road, and Joe realized he didn’t know which way to go! He felt sad- was he not going to be able to get where he needed to be on time?

“Hi Joe!” Geminitay said, waving to him. She was walking down one of the paths towards him, carrying a basket full of bright flowers.

“Say, which way is the graveyard?” Joe asked. “I appear to be lost.”

“It’s that way, of course, right through the spooky forest!” Geminitay said, pointing down a dirt path. “But why do you want to go to the graveyard, Joe? It’s so scary there!”

“I have something urgent I must do.” Joe said, shifting the shovel over his shoulder.

Geminitay looked at the shovel, then and Joe, but didn’t ask any questions.

“Well, good luck. Watch out for big scary wolves!”

Joe hurried along the path in the spooky forest. The sun was about to fully set, and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get to the graveyard in time.

All of a sudden, a huge creature ran into his path. Joe was not scared, though, because it was his friend Rendog!

“Joeth of the Hills, my dude, how the heck are you?” Rendog said.

“I am good, Rendog, but I am afraid I can not stop to chat! I have urgent business to attend to.” Joe said.

“Me as well, good sir, as I saw a rabbit just beyond those bushes and must give chase. Goodbye!” Rendog said, and dove back into the forest.

The moon was beginning to rise as Joe Hills stepped into the cemetery. He creeped along the gravestones, careful not to make a peep. He could hear skeletons rattling in the distance, but he was brave. He stopped at a gravestone with a torch above it, and began to dig. He dug straight down, until his shovel scraped against a coffin. He pried it open, using all his strength.

“Hi Joe!”

“Howdy, Cleo. Did you have a nice nap?”

It was Joe’s best friend, ZombieCleo! She had been sleeping in the grave! Cleo yawned and stretched, bones moving strangely under dead and rotting skin.

“It was wonderful, exactly what I needed! Thanks for digging me up! Let’s get out of here and go get some pumpkin spice lattes!”

“How spooky!” Joe said, and he and Cleo held hands as they went to get a yummy treat together.

——

This is my attempt at a “children’s story”-esque fic, and was supposed to be completed for Halloween. Better late then never lolll

[magicinmyhand]

All that grace, all that body All that face makes me wanna party He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

[sandara-and-coco]

₊˚⊹⋆ Howdy there! It’s finally time for Sandrock's final release yay ₊˚⊹⋆

To celebrate this special occasion Sandara pulled off her jewelry making skills to prepare some unique rings for every sandrocker who wishes to propose to their soulmate ! So without further, here's a little story behind each design,

Qi - Sended an intriguing blueprint to Sandara with complex symbols and diagrams…He assured her that it meant something important to his soulmate so she craved the coded message in precious silver with care. Even if she didn’t get Qi special love language as usual she was sure his loved one would get it ;)

Owen - Our favorite bartender showed an intricate design to Sandara, a delicate pattern almost the same as his own parents' engagement ring. Like the gilding flowers on the cover of a fine book he wished to give his lover the beginning of the story they were about to write together in this life.

Fang - The swan holding a special meaning to him Fang requested Sandara to make his ring the shape of that gracious animal to seal his promise to love and cherish his dearest one forever.

Ernest - Came by with this big and expensive pearl that got a special meaning to him asking Sandara if she could add it to his ring. The pearl symbol of his loyalty and love was carefully placed on the gold ring, the initials of his name and his lover one engraved on the inside.

Pablo - He made a special request to Sandara in search of the most colorful metal they could find for his ring in which bismuth mineral was perfect! Showing how bright and full of all the colors of this world his love was for his chosen one.

Arvio - Insisting on getting the most fine materials Arvio asked for a special ring. He showed Sandara a rare sand flower from Baranarok symbolizing hope and renewal inspiring the shape of that jewel meant to bond him and his other half forever.

Miguel - Requested a rather simple but very elegant ring, made with pale gold with a single diamond to show the purity of his love for his chosen one.

Burgess - Asked for something extra special to convey all his will to live in happiness and kindness with his soulmate. The yellow diamond he chose shining in the center of his ring radiating like the sun all his love.

Pen - In secret Pen demanded the most powerful ring Sandara could make to give his special one great strength and power he’s all for. However he never delivered it himself…

Unsuur - While admiring his collection Unsuur couldn't choose which gem was more fitting so he brought them all to Sandara to make a special ring! (even adding a few shards Wilson lost to make the base of his special ring ;)

Justice - Wanted a pretty ring that still felt like him so Sandara took great care at bringing out Justice strong will and honesty toward his most precious one with this silver and copper ring.

Logan - The only one Sandara didn’t made because well Logan made it himself for his special one! On late hunt nights he sat by the fire and carefully carved this ring in bones with the will to give his loved one something he made with all his heart.

This isn’t much but I hope everyone will have much fun playing and living wonderful adventures with Sandrockers friendly as romantic ones ! As I used to study jewelry making it was very much fun to do and fitting hc that Sandara would make them for the town folks !

It’s been already one year that I have being in this fandom and so so grateful for everything it brought me and the wonderful people it allowed me to meet ♡

I’m currently working on the girl next and some custom ones for my fellow builders who helped me with the designs ◇

₊˚⊹⋆ Happy Sandrock day ! Wish you all the best and see you soon to continue this journey together ₊˚⊹⋆

[motherofdogs1010]

Siren I (Dark!Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: A new singer has come to Small Heath and has unfortunately enraptured the soul of a big-time, Birmingham gangster...

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual NONCON/DUBCON smut, forced marriage, dark!Tommy, obsessed!Tommy, singer!reader, eventual pinv sex, eventual pregnancy, dark shit will be happening

A/N: Song used ''Young and Beautiful"- Lana Del Ray

Dividers @firefly-graphics Banner @vase-of-lilies

Tommy was skeptical when Harry had said he found a singer, the man saying that he needed Grace more for the bar tending than her singing. Harry had said that Grace protested but soon enough shut her mouth once he had found a suitable singer for the pub, someone Harry had said was the daughter of his best friend.

Tommy had been in the snug with his brothers when he heard a woman singing, her voice lulling him in a way that differed from Grace's soft singing.

It intrigued Tommy so much that he stood from his seat, ignoring the looks of his brothers and walking out of the snug to see a woman standing on one of the chairs.

Her voice was hauntingly beautiful as he listened to the song.

I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now Hot summer nights, mid-July When you and I were forever wild The crazy days, city lights The way you'd play with me like a child

Her hair hung in thick curls and her eyes were drawing him in as lightly swayed as she continued her song, Tommy noted that the other men in the bar were calm as they listened. He never realized how calm a pub full of men could feel even when Grace had been singing away her tunes.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?

She wore a black dress, a odd color to wear since most of the women here in Birmingham tended to stray away from such a funeral color unless necessary. Tommy took a drag of his cigarette as he went to lean on the bar, listening to the song that felt almost like a sad love letter in a way.

Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven Please let me bring my man When he comes, tell me that you'll let him in Father, tell me if you can

His mind, for once, felt calm like the voices of tunnels were no longer existing in his battle-wounded mind as Tommy ignored Grace's presence. The woman singing felt as if she was one of the mermaid singers drawing him into the sea from his ship, ready to drown him so he could be with her forever.

All that grace, all that body All that face makes me wanna party He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

Peace was not something Tommy had been granted since the war, using drugs, alcohol, and prostitutes to just get by.

But her voice was drawing him so well and his mind was quiet!

Quiet, can you believe it?

He needed that quiet, he needed her! Tommy brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled the nicotine as he mind began to unravel as he listened and watched.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

He needed to possess her for himself, break her down until all she knew was him and that healing voice singing for her whenever he wanted, whenever he needed.

France had changed Tommy and it wasn't for the better. He wasn't the same man who envisioned himself working with horses and laughing along to the newest joke John had come up with.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful? Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?

"Another one, Tommy?" Grace asked, holding the whiskey bottle.

Another song was what he needed and he was going to do whatever it took to have it all to himself.

Her time singing had come to a close that night, Y/N in the back room of the Garrison collecting her purse and lighting a cigarette as Harry came into the room with a small envelope.

" 'Ere you go", he said with a grin. "How's Small Heath holding to your expectations?"

"It's certainly not California", she remarked and he chuckled.

"Ya use to all the sunshine", Harry joked before leaving.

California, specifically Los Angeles, had been her home and before that, France had been her temporary home as she was a nurse during the war.

Coming home had been something of shell-shock for her, she had witnessed blood and guts and heard the screams of men she was treating to coming back home with her mother where she was expected to be normal. She tried for her family's sake, she truly did but in the end, it felt suffocating and thus, her move outside of America.

Collecting her things, Y/N looked inside the envelope at the bills given to her when she heard the door open once again.

"Hello there."

[zipora666]

something I need to share with you guys..its been on my mind for months ..I HAD WH O’’C BUT NEVER SHARE IT AND NOW IM DONE WITH IT SO :>

Meet.. BUDDY MONKEY!

Do you feel like your pocket got empty a bit? You want adventures and do silly pranks? BUDDY MONKEY ITS JUST FOR YOU!

So the story is buddy monkey is a character show on the summer episodes and whenever there is adventures and danger! He’s a pirate lives in a ship and he always like to find shiny stuff and treasure! he will treat you like as your big brother! He like to be sneaky and if you find your wallet missing you won’t be surprised it’s from him but dw he will return it to you (eventually) he like to do silly pranks and make others smile (but remember! He will never go far with his pranks or do on. People that are more sensitive) he is a gentleman and good “mama’s boy you can say!

some stuff they never knew: where he came from who was his family or his real name and if you look closely at the episodes at first he was ok with wally darling but with the time you can see he barely talk to him...something is off ..BUT ANYWAY LETS CONTINUE!

Ship design

More lore to know yes he do have a rare bird..the story behind it he say like this:

buddy moneky: I find the bird when I travel to a land full of birds that was going to be doomed or destroyed when I got there and I saw all the creatures panic and the birds flew off but i hear someone was in danger I run and cut the trees with my swords to make my path easier and found a majestic unknown bird..not from this world look like and was injured on the wing then I look up saw a tree will fell on them I immediately grab the bird and go to the ship Idk what happend there ..but right when I was on the ship looking behind me ...the land got destroyed.

monkey buddy took her as his new travel partner he realize it’s a female bird called her “dimly diamond” Bc the moment the sun hit her feathers they shine like 1000 of diamonds

(The design)

dimly diamond is a rare bird and may be the last one..they can live many years and buddy monkey like to spoil her with jewels and everything she needs so this bird very close to him and will protect him in any danger!

Now Bc I like to spoil my fav artists so..here ya go!

(@cloudy-dreams,@sketchquill,@sketchy-tour,@xx-sketchy-xx,@qep0ermint)

WAIT THERES HUMAN VERSION TOO!?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *ahem* excuse me ☝️

(Damn it’s been long time I did anime guys-)

Hope you all enjoy I had this character for idk..2-3 months or more lol

Forgot to mention he can stretch his body very long!

[jenoroyals]

It Started With A Kiss - Park Sunghoon

(based off Japanese anime & drama Mischievous Kiss)

pairing : park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis : A shooting star destroys your home, forcing you and your father to move in with his old friend. Little did you know, Park Sunghoon, the guy who you'be been in love with for years, also lives there. How are you going to live under one roof with the boy that rejected you just days ago?

word count : 630 words

content/warnings : angst, sunghoon is MAJOR red flag, yn is ditzy and kind of stupid (in a cute way kind of), MAJOR second hand embarrassment, more to be added

featuring : ryujin (itzy), lia (itzy), jisung (nct), wonyoung (ive - later on), isa (stayc - later on)

PROLOGUE

Scribbling down random notes in your notebook, you notice they all say one thing, Mrs. Park y/n. It was already past sunset and he was still running through your mind. A lady’s voice comes from the radio, “When you see a shooting star, make a wish and your wish will come true.” 

You quickly rush to open your curtains and walk out onto the balcony. Looking up, you see thousands of stars shining throughout the sky. Shining like diamonds, you can’t help but admire them. Never having to deal with endless feelings, all they do is just look pretty. 

As you're admiring the beautiful night, a shooting star passes by. You gasp, remembering the words from the radio, you put your hands together and make a wish.

‘I wish I can tell Sunghoon how I feel about him.’ 

You smile after thinking about the said boy for the 100th time that night. Walking back into your bedroom, you shut the balcony door and jump right into bed. 

-

As the sun starts to rise up, you get up out of bed and start to get ready. Sliding the skirt over your waist and buttoning up your shirt, you slide your hands against the clothes, smoothing them out. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you smile brightly. 

Your dad always said not to dress up so pretty for boys, but instead for yourself. But you couldn’t help it. You were going to be talking to Sunghoon for the first time in your life. Of course you wanted to look your best. 

Once you arrive at school, you’re instantly running around the high school looking for Sunghoon. Other students have already started gathering at the school, yet there was no sign of him. 

Finally, you see him walking towards the entrance, alone. You smoothed over your uniform for the thousandth time that morning and let out a deep exhale while receding your letter in your head. 

“Dear Park Sunghoon, 

Nice to meet you Sunghoon. My name is l/n y/n, I’m in Class F. You don't know me, but I know you. Since you made a speech at the entrance ceremony two years ago, I have been admiring your intelligence and handsome face. 

There is no way that I can be in the same class as you, this is why I am writing this letter to you. When I first saw you, I felt like I was hit by a shooting star. I started to have special feelings for you.”

You slowly start walking towards him with a smile on your face. “Excuse me.” You say facing him. He gives you a stern look with a blank expression and answers, “Who are you?” 

You take a breath again before continuing, “I’m l/n y/n from Class F. Could you please read this?” You hold out the letter with both of your hands and smile, waiting for him to take the letter. 

He stares down at the letter and then looks back up to you. Your smile widens but it quickly falls when you hear his answer. 

 “I don’t want it.” He states while walking away, not sparing you another glance. You’re standing there frozen with students passing by and staring at you. 

Your body felt stuck. As much as you wanted to move as not to get more embarrassed your body wouldn't let you. The wind picks up and blows the letter out of your hand, but you’re in so much shock that you can’t even comprehend to go look for it.

As the letter sweeps through the air, it finally lands right in front of Sunghoon who steps on it accidentally, but he doesn’t bother to look back. He keeps his head up and continues walking to his class.

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Apology won’t cut it

Tim Rockford x f!reader

summary: Tim forgot about your anniversary…how can he make things right?

warnings: SMUT (oral -f!receiving, vaginal fingering, somnophilia -with estabilished consent, reader and Tim talked about it before-, unprotected p in v, reader “hangs” onto those shoulder holsters while Tim fucks her, creampie,(1) spitting on pussy, praise kink, biting), talks of infidelity, cursing, mentions of food, mentions of reader being pregnant, fluff -it’s me…so :)

word count: 4.3K (how that happened? - i don’t know either)

A/N: Tim is hot and I have things for detectives/agents with shoulder holsters (*cough, cough* Seeley Booth)

You met Tim a few years back through your friend. Normal Sunday brunch turned into you confiding to her – telling her that you worry that your husband might be cheating. The past few months he was spending more and more time in his office – the fact that you saw his new personal assistant a few months back who was much younger and prettier than you didn't help.

Susan, your friend, tried to soothe your worries but when you started being a babbling and a sobbing mess – you've spend most of your life with your husband and the thought of him cheating on you cut your heart deeper than you thought it would – she sighed and withdrawn something from her purse. A small plain business card layed between her neat fingers.  

She passed it to you with a few tissues as well and when you finally wiped all of your tears away,  you looked at what was written on it – both of your eyebrows raising in a question.

“It's a private investigator. I hired him when I had a suspicion that Richard might be cheating on me as well. Turned out he was just working extra shifts so he could buy me an engagement ring.” She grinned at the memory and you looked at her finger – the diamond ring he bought her shining in the daylight sun. You offered her a little smile – happy for her. Richard was a nice guy – sweet and genuine and you didn't know how she could think he was cheating on her – he kissed the ground she walked on. “But really, he is great, sweetie. A little pricey but he does his job well. It doesn't hurt that he is easy on the eyes too.” She winked while you bit your lip in contemplation.

A few days pass since your Sunday brunch and you think about calling the number numerous times – then telling yourself that you shouldn't doubt your husband's loyalty. Though when he left this morning without even kissing you on the head as he normally would – not even sparing you a little glance, you were more certain than ever – you were going to find out what was going on once and for all. Even if it should break your heart.

When the other voice on the other line says “hello?” you get nervous. You are really doing this.  

“Hello, uhm – I, ugh- I’d received your business card from a friend and would like to hire your services. Are you busy or-?” Smooth. Real smooth.

“No, not really,” he chuckles - the cigar he was smoking dangling from his lips, “would you like to meet at yours or at my office?” His voice was a little gruff but very soothing at the same time. You try to imagine what he looks like – didn't sound like a young man, maybe someone close to your age range – not that you were old or something.

You quickly scribbled the address where he worked as you found it more appropriate that you rather meet him at his office than if he should invade your own home.

When you arrive at the address he gave you, you found yourself in front of a small brick building – the doors are pretty mahogany color but creaky and when you enter it looks bigger than on the outside. Various small offices with different names on glass windowed doors surround you and you look for his business card in your purse – forgetting his name.  

Tim Rockford – it says on the card and you squint your eyes when you see doors with the same name on it far back. You stride with confident steps towards it even when you are not feeling that way at all. You knock – one time, two times and the third time a small gruff “come in” can be heard from the other side of the door.  

When you step in the first thing that hits you is the cigar smoke and you cough a little – you hate smoking. Then you finally see the man in question. He looks a little older - the bags under his eyes make him seem that. He quickly stands up from his leather chair that creaks and offers you a small smile which you uncertainly return. He is handsome in a ruggish way. His hair is short and has a few silver strands mixed in there as well,  and his beard is patchy – that is something very endearing about the fact. His shoulders are broad and you think he should buy a bigger shirt as this one is straining against his frame – not that you mind that much.  

He quickly puts out the cigar when he sees your nose wrinkling at the smell – observant as well. Not bad. He reaches his hand out to you and you take it – his grip is strong but not in an unpleasant way and his palms are a little sweaty. He clears his throat and offers you his name which you do the same in return. He sits down and gestures to the older-looking armchair sitting opposite him. It's comfier than it looks.  

“So, what brings you here, m’am?” You scrunch your nose for a second – not feeling that old but don't say a thing about it. Right, let's cut right to the chase.

“I-I think my husband might be cheating on me and I'd like for you to find out if that's true.” He doesn't look at you weirdly or anything – as you thought he would. He just nods his head and asks your husband's name which you provide.  

“That's all I really need. I will find out all of the other information myself and will call you if I will find some clues. Sounds good to you, m’am?” You nod and give him your phone number – the phone you called him from being the house landline.

A few weeks pass, Tim calls you often or you go to his office – recently you started inviting him to your house as you started feeling more comfortable around him – all of the clues hint that your husband is really cheating on you and he tries to make you feel better about it – cracking jokes here and there and you appreciate it even though it doesn't seem all that professional.  

Today he brings a folder with him. The yellow one you often see in some kind of crime film that holds photos of the victim – and when he enters he throws you a sad smile. You know what it means but you try to not think about it. You offer him tea and he hastily accepts – he knows that you already know. In the past few weeks, he got to know you and he noticed that you try to occupy yourself with other things when you are nervous.  

He sits on your leather couch – you bought it last week – and he watches you make the tea in your smaller kitchen. When you sit down next to him you put the cups of tea on the glass table. He passes you the folder and when you open it a few tears flow freely from your eyes. You were expecting it. You really were but it still hurts. You feel sick as you throw the folder next to the cups – not really in the mood to look at the pictures of your husband sticking his tongue into someone else's throat. Tim lands his hand on your shoulder – trying to comfort you. That's when you throw yourself at him, hugging him close to you and he doesn't reciprocate the hug for a while – it's not professional at all and he shouldn't but when you sob into his work shirt his heart breaks and pulls you closer to him. Slowly stroking your back and kissing the top of your head gently.

You stay like that for a while – him rocking you while stroking your back and telling you “what an idiot your husband is for treating you so poorly” as you try to compose yourself. And when you do- you pull away a little – looking into his eyes, maping out his face with your eyes. He's handsome – you noticed the first time you've seen him but after each time you've spent together you started appreciating his ruggish handsomeness more and more. You'd never admit it but you've touched yourself at the thought of him a few times – feeling guilty afterward not knowing if your husband was cheating on you. You felt like you were the one cheating after every time you got yourself off at the thought of Tim between your thighs.

“Kiss me.” You whisper as you look at him and he shakes his head – feeling like he would take advantage if he did.  

“No, you're in a bad mental state right now and you don't know what you are saying, sweetie.” The nickname of endearment falling from his lips is first and you shake your head in protest – pulling yourself on top of his lap and he doesn't have the strength to stop you as this is something he wanted for a long time too – you were not only a client to him. Not for a long time, anyways. You were smart and funny, and beautiful and he liked you a lot. Even if he really shouldn't feel this way.

“I wanted this for a long time, Tim. Please, just kiss me, will you?” You don't have to tell him thrice, he surges forward to meet your wanting lips and grabs your hips and you start grinding down on him. You moan when you feel him harden under you and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours – it's frantic and passionate and you feel him everywhere at once. His hands are pulling your tank top off and he cups your tits when they come into the view – pulling away from the kiss. He starts kissing your cleavage, his hands trying to quickly unclasps the bra if that piece of clothing offended him and you on the other hand try to unbutton his shirt. Getting impatient you huff and he notices – he always does with everything. He slows the pace down and unbuttons the shirt himself while getting distracted multiple times – you're kissing his neck and he moans when he feels you nip at the sensitive skin behind his ear.  

When the shirt is finally off you immediately start paying attention to the newfound flesh – kissing and licking a path across his shoulders that you oh, love some much and dragging your tongue lower – circling his nipple with it. He groans and throws his head back – the vein on his neck popping with the movement and you bite him there, soothing it with your tongue. He grinds against your mound and if you keep going he will for sure cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. He pushes against your shoulders softly and you start to protest but he shuts you up with his mouth once again. It's slower and more sensual – his tongue fighting with yours lazily and unhurriedly. He finally unclasps your bra – his greedy eyes taking you in. Palming them in his hands it's your turn to moan and he grins – his thumbs stroking the sensitive nipples. He brings his head to take one into his mouth and you can't do anything else than writhe on him – your hands are in his hair and you massage his scalp. He groans against your bud while the other hand strokes your other tit and you feel like you've gone to heaven and back. You didn't feel this good since – well actually never.  

When he is happy with his work – the bitemarks on your tits will leave nasty bruises for a few days for sure – he slowly puts you on the leather couch. You are sweaty and it sticks to your skin but you don't care – not when Tim is trying to get rid of your shorts. You don't wear anything underneath and you swear you can see his eyes goes entirely black – his pupils blown wide and his breathing quick. He lowers himself onto his tummy and you are confused for a second before you realize what he is doing. You try to protest that he doesn't have to but he just “shhh” you. His mouth is on your inner thighs in no time and his beard causes a delicious burn on them. He is slow with it – trying to enjoy every second of it but you are impatient. You tug on his hair and growl – slapping one side of your inner thigh mumbling a quiet “impatient girl” before he licks into you without a warning.

You cry out – your head thrown back and your back arched, the hands that are in his hair grip him tighter and he moans into your cunt with an unspoken agreement for you to keep doing that. Not many men went down on you – certainly not your husband – but Tim looks like he is enjoying this more than you if it is possible. His nose bumps into your clit with every lick – you feel yourself squeezing around his tongue. One of his hands makes its way to your open mouth and he sticks two fingers into it – coating them in your saliva. Pulling them back out he creates a path with them from your mouth to your neck, then under your neck, on your tits, down your tummy and then pressing two of them against your pussy – exchanging his tongue with his fingers while he sucks your clit into his mouth and it doesn't take long before you are cuming, after all, it has been too long since anyone made it seem like their life goal was to make you cum – the moans and cries of his name echoe throughout the living room with the wet sounds of your pussy squeezing his fingers while he fucks you through the aftershocks of it all.

When he finally stops – you have to push his mouth away from you feeling overstimulated – he just grins against you and sits up – balancing himself on his heels while he cleans his fingers humming at your tangy taste on them. You are exhausted and your lashes flutter against your cheeks but you can hear the clang of his belt and his words echoing in your ears: “ We're not done in the slightest, baby.”

You try to wait for him. You do. But your eyes feel heavy – you already ate the dinner you made for the two of you – Tims's favorite meal – lasagna. You put the rest of it along with the portion into the fridge – scribbling a quick note that if he feels hungry the leftovers are in the fridge. You look at the time: 23:03. And that's when your phone dings.

Hi, baby. Don't wait for me, I am still at the office working on that crazy grandma case . Love you, xoxo

You sigh in defeat. No apology, no nothing. You expected it, to be completely honest. He was so wrapped up in this new case he sometimes forgot what his name was. But you felt that he was married to work and not to you – not that you two were married but you get the drill. You understood it, he worked hard for the position he now has and you too are a workaholic yourself – the money you won at the court after the divorce was put into opening your little bakery. But to forget about your 5-year-old anniversary? That seemed over the top. You don’t bother answering him – putting your phone away you put the dirty dishes in the sink – you will wash them tomorrow morning. Keeping his favorite wine on the table in case he will want it when he comes home, you grab the little envelope.  

“Seems like it's just me and you again, little bean.” You smile sadly while you caress your stomach – Tim didn't know yet but you hoped you would tell him tonight. Guess not.

As you make your way into the bedroom you lock the door and turn off all the lights. Brushing your teeth and hoping in the shower for a quick wash you think about if you should have kept the envelope on the table – no, you will tell him tomorrow after you won't be mad at him anymore. After drying yourself you tuck yourself in and put the envelope into the drawer on your bedside table. Sleep consumes you quickly – you've felt exhausted for the past couple of days.

Tim comes home long past after midnight. He's exhausted and he just wants to plop on the bed next to you. He puts the keys onto the kitchen counter and wonders in the kitchen – the kitchen lits up when he puts on the flashlight in his camera – you like to sleep with the bedroom doors open and usually wake up if he turns on the lights. He furrows his brows when he sees the wine on the table – the single rose in a small vase in the center of it. He stalks towards it and sees that it's his favorite. And then he sees the dirty dishes and the small note on the fridge – dread takes over him when he sees the date on the calendar and he lowly curses at himself.

He forgot your fucking anniversary. What a fucking moron he is. He ventures into the bedroom to see if you are already asleep – if not he will apologize profusely even when he knows apology won't cut it this time. When he sees you fast asleep he sighs and slowly creeps into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The weight of what had done – or more so what he didn't – creeps on him and he decides that he will cook you breakfast tomorrow and take you out somewhere nice – maybe even finally do the thing he'd been dreading to do for over a half a year now. When he is finished brushing his teeth he returns to the bedroom to put his guns away. You are sleeping peacefully even when he turns on the light on his bedside table.  

You look so pretty in the dim light. Your hair is sprawled on your pillow and it's too warm in here for you to be covered – he can see your legs and the curve of your ass. He licks his lips and he is not so tired anymore. An idea pops into his head – you've talked about it before but never really tried it – maybe it would be one of the many steps of his apology.

He rolls up his sleeves and slowly makes his way onto your side of the bed. You are a pretty light sleeper and he thinks if you will wake up right in the start or if he can indulge a little. He kicks the covers that surround you and touches your ankle – the touch is light and gentle. His fingers slowly make their way up your thigh stopping on your hip and you jerk a little - you turn onto your back the flimsy tank top you changed into riding higher. Tim grins, slowly sinking onto the mattress. He kisses one of your knees and then the other. Slowly making his way up – he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and slowly tugs – seeing that you have nothing underneath. He always loved that about you. He caresses your thighs and kisses the inner side of both of them – trying if you will wake up he pokes his tongue out but you just mumble something so he keeps up his advances. Creating a path to your core he softly inhales and opens your folds with his thumbs as kisses your clit – you jerk a little but he hooks his palms under your hips to keep you still. His nose bumps against your clit with the first swipe of his tongue and he groans at your taste that he knows oh, so well. His tongue lazily licks into you and he is in no rush – enjoying the slow pace he slowly grinds his pants-clad hips against the mattress. It's not enough but he doesn't mind. Sneaking one of his hands away from underneath your hips he pushes one of his fingers in – you are soaked even though he barely touched you and he loves the fact that you are always so ready for him. You mewl softly and start to stir but he stops when your breathing gets even again he pushes two fingers inside of you.

The only sounds that can be heard are his harsh takes of breath and the wet suck of your pussy taking his fingers in – his mouth is now more relentless and so are his hips as he humps the mattress. His fingers curl and he tries to find the spot that makes you make such a pretty noise for him and when your breath hitches he knows he found it. He kisses your clit and starts setting a quicker phase. The tip of his tongue now flicks against your clit quickly. He can feel you start squeezing him and he moans when he feels your hands tug on his hair – the quiet “Tim” from your lips effortlessly. He mumbles a quick “good morning” even though it's not even 3 am yet.

You are right on the edge and when he adds a third finger it's all over for you. Your back arches and you cry out – his plush lips kiss your clit to work you through it and when he finally stops he pushes his cock out of his pants – stroking his dick with the hand that was in you just a few seconds ago. You are still sleepy and try to get a sense of what is happening but before you can think about it  Tim is kissing you and notching the weeping head of his cock against your entrance.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Can I fuck you silly?” You nod and he enters you with one quick swift of his hips – you can feel his balls against your ass and he tries to push even deeper. It's too much for your sleep-tired brain and you need to hold onto something – so you grab his shoulder holsters – they are cold and feel smooth against your palms and when you look up at Tim he snarls. “Yeah, hold onto me, baby.” And then he is pounding into you. The head of him pushes against your g-spot and he angles his hips just right. You can feel every ridge and vein of him and you feel him pulse in you – knowing that he won't last long. He grabs one of your ankles and puts it on his shoulder – you always said to him that shoulders like that were made for leg rest. With this new angle, he feels even deeper and you close your eyes – it feels so fucking good, his pubic hair is scraping against your clit and the gentles with hich he kisses your ankle while mumbling how “good of a girl you are for him” makes your heart ache with love for him.

He can feel you starting to squeeze around him and he bends so he can spit onto your pussy – it makes you cry out when you feel the wet press of his fingers on your clit. His are relentless and the sweat rolling off his forehead is making its way down his neck – his vein on it is popped and you'd like to bite it. The slap of his balls is lewd and the way he says your name – ordering you to be “good girl and cum for me” is making your head dizzy. It just two or so more thrusts before you are clamping down on his length and he moans – grabbing him by the neck you kiss him and start sucking on his neck – right under the himge of his jaw– and then he is cuming too – his forehead pressed up against yours. His hips try to push the cum deep inside of you and when he stops he falls next to your side, bringing you closer to him and caressing your spine.

“You think it worked this time?” You are still hazy from the orgasm, listening to his heartbeat slowing down and you just hum in question so he repeats it for you – you don't think about it too much and reach for your nightstand drawer putting the envelope you hid there into his hands.  

He opens it reluctantly and when he sees what's in there he can't contain his smiles and the few happy tears that spring out of his eyes.

“You serious? We're going to have a baby?” He laughs with joy and you caress his cheek – kissing the patch on his beard and then soothing it with your thumb

“Serious as I can be, babe. We're going to be parents.” you grin and he kisses you – smiling into the kiss and he thinks about the box in his suit jacket that has a small and elegant diamond ring in it.

He will propose to you tomorrow, take you out on a picnic or something. Yeah, he will do that.