#the coloring of the sky and background is so cool to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foreverisntenough · 13 days

Text

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 2 - Wine & Tequila | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.8k

That night at the villa unfolded like a watercolor painting, the colors of the evening blurring and blending together under the influence of laughter, music, and the heady warmth of too much wine. The luxurious Greek coastline stretched out below, a glittering ribbon of blue under the starlit sky, but the true magic was in the villa itself, where the night seemed to pulse with an energy that was as intoxicating as the drinks that flowed freely. You were surrounded by British boys and your best friend, their faces flushed with joy, eyes bright with the kind of happiness that only seems to exist in these rare, perfect moments. The terrace was alive with the sound of their laughter, the clink of glasses, and the murmur of conversations that felt endless and full of possibility. The air was thick with the scent of the sea, mingling with the sweetness of jasmine that climbed the stone walls of the villa, creating a heady mix that made everything feel just a little bit more surreal, a little bit more dreamlike. You found yourself drawn to Jude, who was leaning against the edge of the terrace, the warm light casting soft shadows across his face. He looked like he belonged here, in this place where the earth met the sky, as though he had stepped straight out of one of the myths that clung to the ancient stones of the island. His presence was magnetic, pulling you toward him with a force that felt as natural as breathing. With every glass of wine, every shared smile, you felt yourself slipping further into something you couldn’t quite name. You moved closer, the warmth of the alcohol in your veins giving you the courage to flirt, to let the banter between you and Jude to flow as easily as the wine. Your conversations were light, playful, but beneath the surface, there was something more—a spark that ignited every time your eyes met, a connection that grew with each passing moment. As the night deepened, the villa around you seemed to fade, the world shrinking to just the two of you. You couldn’t stop the way your heart fluttered every time Jude laughed, a low, rich sound that seemed to wrap around you like the night itself. You found yourself watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way he leaned in just a little closer with every word, as if he was as drawn to you as you were to him. You shared another drink, and with it, the distance between you seemed to dissolve completely. The night carried on, and so did your dance—a dance of words and glances, of light touches and shared secrets whispered in the dark. By the time the first hints of dawn began to touch the horizon, you knew you were in trouble. You could feel it in the way your heart leapt when Jude leaned in close to whisper something in your ear, in the way your pulse raced when his hand lingered on the small of your back. The world around you was starting to blur at the edges, the villa, the sea, the night—all of it fading into the background as you stood together, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Jude reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent. The gesture was so simple, so intimate, that it took your breath away.

You and Jude decided to sneak away from everyone after this dance was dragging on too long. Not a word shared. You just both felt you wanted to be alone away from all the chatter and curious eyes. You descended down a massive staircase from the villa nestled up in a clif down to the shore line. The sun in its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange as you wandered down to the beach, a bottle of wine clutched in your hand.

“You look good tonight, did I tell you that?” Jude asked you softly trailing behind you, getting lost in the vision of you, having a hard time focusing on the steep stairs.

“Yeah, you did but you can always tell me more than once.” You turned around with a gentle smile that had Jude taken aback by how naturally gorgeous you were. It wasn’t like your carefully curated instagram that he had coyly stalked not only today but had since he had seen Whitney post you ages ago. You weren’t trying. This was beautiful in an organic way. He almost preferred it…almost although the bikini pictures weren’t exactly a turn off.

“You just got my mind and my heart fucking racing the past couple days. You do something to me.” Jude admitted against his will swayed by the amount of drinks he’d had as you made it towards the bottom of the stairs.

“I thought you’d like this one. What do you think?” You asked, spinning for him. The moon catching on the gold buckles of your Christopher Esber mini dress and the highlights of your skin.

“Yeah, thought right. Looks unreal on you.” Jude cooed. The villa’s laughter and music fading into the background as you finally stepped onto the sand, leaving only the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. The soft crunch of sand beneath your feet was quiet as you made your way closer to the water's edge.

“Wouldn’t look better on your floor?” You cheekily joked recalling his words the other night. It was a bit forward but you two didn’t really have to be subtle anymore.

“You’re funny, you know.” Jude told you as he watched you slightly stumble to a quiet spot near the water’s edge, where the sea kissed the shore in a gentle, rhythmic dance. Jude plopped down first and held his hand out to help you come sit with him. You sank down onto the ground, the warmth of the day still lingering in the sand beneath you. The air was salty and sweet, tinged with the fragrance of wildflowers that grew along the cliffs, mingling with the rich scent of the wine as you uncorked the bottle.

“Yeah? I just like to see you smile so if I have to pull out some jokes it’s for my own benefit.” You smiled gently at him. You weren’t actively trying to be funny but getting Jude to give you that million dollar devastatingly handsome smile was a welcomed response.

“Like it that much? Wow…” He flashed that very smile you adored so much to you.

“What can I say? I think you’re very pretty and I’m very funny so it’s a good match.” You babbled a little drunkenly. Jude’s eyes filled with adoration you didn’t catch. Without a word, he grabbed your chin gently and swiftly in what felt like slow motion pulled you towards him. His lips brushing yours in a tender, almost hesitant kiss. It was a kiss full of longing, as if he was trying to pour all the unsaid words and hidden feelings into this single, fleeting moment. It was slow, soft, a little drunk, and perfect. You smiled. Your lips curling and inadvertently peeling off his. He kissed you again, more deeply this time, with a passion that caught you by surprise, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, as if he had been holding back for far too long but then he pulled back abruptly, his breath shallow, his eyes searching yours with a mix of apology and worry.

"Shit. I'm sorry.” He murmured, his voice barely a whisper over the sound of the waves. "I didn’t mean to be so forward. I just... I got caught up." It wasn’t that he was drunk, which he was but it was more that he just didn’t even know he was going to kiss you. It was instinctual and magnetic. You blinked up at him, a soft giggle escaping your lips, a sound light and airy against the heavy backdrop of the night. Your fingers found their way to his cheek, and you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again, more confidently this time.

“It’s okay, Jude.” You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “You can kiss me whenever you want.” You smiled bigger, grabbing both his biceps, giving them a gentle reassuring squeeze. His hesitation melted away in an instant, replaced by a smile that mirrored your own, full of relief and something much deeper. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. You kissed him back with all the reassurance you could muster, pouring everything you felt into the kiss—the warmth, the comfort, the unspoken promises. You had brought down a bottle of wine with you. You poured yourselves each a glass, two that Jude had carried down for you, the deep red liquid catching the last light of the day, turning it to molten gold. Jude took his glass, your fingers brushing in a way that sent a thrill through you, a shiver of excitement that had nothing to do with the cool evening breeze. You clinked your glasses together, a soft, lazy toast to the moment, to the perfect simplicity of sitting on a beach in Greece with nothing but time stretching ahead of you. The first sip was rich and full-bodied, the taste of it lingering on your tongue like a promise. It was a wine meant to be savored, but with each sip, the edges of the world seemed to soften, and you found yourself sinking into a delicious, wine-induced haze.

“You know wine?” Jude asked you with another flash of his smile. He shuffled in his place turning his body more towards yours.

“I should say yes.” You shrugged after your admission. Jude raised his brows looking for more information. Your words were clearly laced with more. “My dad’s into it.” You vaguely explained not really providing any further clarity.

“What’s he like?” Jude attempted to learn a little more about you with a question but you didn’t think you wanted to talk about your family with him, especially not right now.

“No, don’t start on all that.” You sympathetically smiled appreciating the ask but unwilling to delve further.

“Well… fine, answer me about wine then.” Jude threw you an accepting smile that made you wish you were willing to open up to him. You felt you could. You trusted him but you didn’t trust yourself not to get yourself in too deep. You almost hated how comfortable he made you.

“Yeah, I mean I enjoy it as much as the next person… we… or my family like own a big winery in France or whatever, it’s a whole big thing.” You babbled giving him a small nugget of information about your family background but brushed it off burying it with nonchalance.

“Sorry?” Jude muttered between a hearty laugh that sent an ache through your chest. A big winery in France wasn’t all that clear but your casualty about it made him know there was more beneath the surface. Your lifestyle was very clearly one of luxury, there was nothing casual about it. He figured he’d ask another time. He kissed his teeth. “You and Whitney just really run the show, huh?” He teased you, nudging his knee against yours.

“Daddy’s money isn’t exactly running the show, is it?” You sighed with an insincere smile. You and Whitney had met at uni and bonded over similar interests but your commonality of similar childhoods glued you together for life. It was an upbringing of getting gifts in exchange for your parent’s presence. No matter how grandiose the present was, it was never exactly enough to mask what you really longed for. And while you didnt take your life's comforts for granite, it felt hollow. It did also mean that it wasn’t exactly new for you to take off work to galavant off to Europe to stay in a villa on a whim. In a bizarre world you actually had some similar experiences to Jude; unlimited credit cards, no supervision and unrealistic body standards but Jude seemed to be enjoying his circumstances more than you ever did but who were you to complain about the predicament.

“Nah, I’m obviously joking.” He squeezed his hand right above your knee. “You said you work, yeah? Remind me what you do?” Jude turned to you entirely, genuinely more interested in what you did for work than anyone ever had been.

“Art galleries.” You quietly answered him, not really sure your job would be of any interest to a footballer. It was important to you but depending on the person some found it mundane or pretentious.

“Meaning…” He laughed, waving you on to continue to tell him more. His eyes sparkled in the falling night.

“I curate art galleries.” You bashfully explained a bit more with a shy smile. It didn’t feel like he was pulling teeth by any means but Jude could tell you were holding back in the conversation.

“That’s kind of mad, you know.” Jude told you. He reached his hands out and placed them on your shoulders and turned you towards him more since you had been apprehensive to do so.

“Is it? You ever been to an exhibit you liked?” You asked Jude. His willingness to listen to you and inquire more made you feel a little giddy. You got caught in the excitement and asked a question Jude wasn’t exactly ready for.

“Erm… An exhibit might be a stretch. I have some field trips I enjoyed.” Jude laughed with a shrug. You scooted towards him and with a smirk he pulled you further into him, getting you to sit in between his legs. Your back to his chest once again encased in his scent.

“Oh Jude… We have to get you out! We’ll do wine and an exhibit one time.” You giggled, settling further into his embrace.

“You’ll have to help culture me, angel.” Jude cooed. His words warming your heart.

“You’re cultured Jude.” You smiled, turning your head back to him slightly to catch a warm glint in his eyes looking down at you.

“Yeah but in a different way. Forced to learn Spanish in my 20s isn’t much culture.” He laughed humorously belittling himself.

“Just ignoring your family background, living in other countries, and playing international football but sure. Think you're getting any good?” You asked him. He kissed your temple appreciating you acknowledging him. “Big duo lingo boy?” You giggled.

“Ha I wish. I have to go in person to class unless I’m on the road.” He reflected on his progress with a sigh. “Nah, well… maybe it depends. The more I drink the better I think I get.” He hummed resting his chin on your shoulder tucking his face into the nap of your neck.

“Go on…Háblame bebé.” You turned to look back at his gorgeous face as his hand moved to lay over your stomach whilst his fingers played with the gold metal ring details of your dress.

“¿Tú hablas español?” He asked in blur of a Madrid and Birmingham accent smashed together.

“Un poco, no muy bien, pero me va bien con los idiomas.” You stumbled through your words trying to recall the language you’d learned in school.

“Eres interesante, ¿sabes?” He spoke faster than you anticipated. Maybe he knew the language better than he led on but his accent and the wine had you struggling to keep up.

“This is hurting my brain, I’m bowing out. I haven’t spoken Spanish in a minute.” You giggled, settling back against his chest.

“You sounded good.” Jude complimented you kissing your hair with a hum.

“Yeah? Well neither of us are Spanish so who are we to say?” You took a sip of your wine before nestling the base of your wine glass back into the sand beside you ensuring it wouldn’t spill.

“Nah, you sound good. I like your voice.” Jude cooed gently. He kissed your hair again. You weren't sure he even knew he was doing it so you let it go on without saying a word but each time he did it your body relaxed more.

“Oof really? I’m always one of those people that when I hear it back in a video it’s just the worst.” You winced a little hearing anyone, but specifically him, saying they liked your voice.

“No, trust me… as someone who has heard it first hand a lot lately. Like a lot, you don’t shut up.” Jude teased squeezing you a little. You hummed feigning offense by his jab. ‘Nah, It’s perfect.” He further explained. You questioned him with an inquisitive glare. “You moaning my name in my ear is perfection.” Jude groaned a little remembering it, moving to come kiss your neck. You couldn’t see but his eyes went wide after the words fell out of his mouth. Did he really just say that out loud? Maybe he was more drunk than he thought or maybe he liked you more than he knew. He couldn’t see but you gave him a smug eye roll. You talked about everything and nothing, your conversation flowing as smoothly as the wine. The sky deepened to indigo, stars beginning to flicker into existence above you, and with every glass, you felt the space between you shrink. The wine made you bold, your laughter louder, your smile softer as you leaned into him, the warmth of Jude’s body seeping into yours. The banter was easy, playful, but beneath it was something more—a current of unspoken tension, of desire that swirled between you with every glance and every touch. The wine was loosening your tongue, your inhibitions slipping away with each sip, and you found yourself telling him things you might not have otherwise—secrets, dreams, the kind of thoughts that only come out under the influence of too much good wine and the spell of a Greek night. Jude listened with that same lazy smile, his eyes dark and knowing as he leaned closer, his hands finding their way around you. It was a delicious warmth that mingled with the wine, making you dizzy in the best possible way. As the bottle emptied, the world around you seemed to blur, the stars above spinning in a slow, languid dance. The wine was doing its work, pulling you closer, making everything feel just a little bit more intense, a little bit more real. The waves continued their gentle rhythm, a lullaby that matched the pounding of your heart as you turned to face him fully, your lips curving into a smile that was both shy and bold. There was a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before Jude leaned in around you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that tasted of wine and salt and the sea. It was slow, languid, a kiss that felt like it had all the time in the world. You melted into him, the wine making everything feel softer, more intense, as if the whole world had narrowed to this one perfect moment on the beach, with the stars above and the sea at your feet. In a fell swoop, your back was pressed against the sand, Jude hovering over you, his arms placed beside your head. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.” Jude groaned looking down at you as he began to pull your dress up your body. You arched your back letting him take it off entirely. You helped him rip it off before guiding his hand back to your now exposed body, causing you to let out a moan at the touch. He had you, hook, line, and sinker with your eyes pooling with lewd desires. You placed your hand on the nape of his neck, tugging at his hair, as he lowered his head, placing kisses along your collarbones and chest. You buried your face on his biceps to muffle yourself as he began to play with your nipples, pinching the hardened buds while he sucked the curve of your shoulders.

“What if someone sees us?” You asked Jude apprehensively when you felt an ocean breeze hit your skin and your now wet core, reminding you of your state. Although, your lust-induced mind hoped he would be able to come up with something to convince you.

“You’ll just have to be a little quiet f’me then, yeah?” He cooed licking on the spot behind your ear as he tugged on your nipple, making you shiver not sure if you could keep to what you were about to agree to. You nodded anyway, impatient for his touch you’d been craving.

“Jude” You gasped into his mouth. He immediately pulled away from you and kissed his teeth in an effort to reprimand you for making noise. You mouthed a ‘sorry.’

“I’m all yours tonight, baby if you can stay quiet, yeah?” Jude cooed before crashing back into a kiss. Kissing Jude felt different tonight. Maybe it was the build up of tension throughout the holiday or maybe it was the thrill of knowing you could get caught fucking him down on the beach. Jude wielded his dominance over you fervently, he pinned your arms above your head, his lips never leaving yours longer than a second to breathe. His perfect pouty lips traveled down to your tits. You whimpered as you felt his lips come around your nipples. He sucked on the left one, brushing his warm tongue left and right before tugging on it with his teeth. The level of arousement in you was getting higher and higher and the familiar knot forming at the pit of your stomach was starting to form. The prominence of his cock burrowed between your spread legs, rubbing against your clit and making you thrust your hips further into him for friction. He let his hand come to knead your exposed tits, the wisp of his breath tingled down your body as he kissed your skin, tying a knot in your core. Swifty he rid you of the only bit of clothing you had on left. A minuscule thong, he threw to the side with no care. “So fucking wet f’me already.”’ He mused as he kissed your pelvic bone, letting his finger drag through your folds gathering up your slick. The request to stay quiet gone out the window in minutes. Swiftly he moved his finger up and into your mouth. Your tongue obediently swirling around him. ”‘Who made you this wet, huh?” Jude smugly asked you.

“You, oh my god you.” You whimpered as he kissed the inside of your thigh. When his lips finally began kissing your clit your hips bucked upwards involuntarily. Your fingers gripped his hair. He sucked harshly on your sensitive clit. You had no control as you writhed underneath him. You had been dreaming of this. His mouth on you sent a shot of ecstasy through you. You felt dizzy from the wine but more so from him. “Fuck Jude!’ You whined as he pushed not one but two fingers into your pussy. His tongue fluttering over your swollen bundle of nerves. Your walls welcomed the pressure of his intrusion. Your eyes shutting in rapture at his pace. You couldn’t stop your body from involuntarily grinding against him. You couldn’t stop yourself. He curled his fingers further inside, finding your g spot fast, refusing to let up. You rode his fingers, your moans only getting louder as he worked in tandem with his tongue toying with your clit. You let out a soft cry as you rocked your hips up onto his hand.

“So good f’me.” He looked up at you, a wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winding in your stomach. Almost immediately you felt your orgasm come crashing over you. Your body shaking as his tongue continued to assault your clit rhythmically. “Cum f’me. That’s it angel. Good girl.” You looked down at Jude as you came, his eyes filled with hungry lust, his face buried deep in your pussy, the moon beginning to shine down on you both. The iridescent ocean in the background played a symphony harmonious to your moans and his filthy slurps dragging out your high. Jude slowly pulled his fingers from inside but still softly stroking though your folds when he finally emerged from your legs to breathe. It was a deliciously lewd sight. Your slick dribbled down his chin. You giggled in pure ecstasy as your thumb swiped to catch the wetness.

“Can you… Can you please fuck me.” You begged him desperate for more of him. In the darkening night Jude flashed a devious but excitedly childish smile watching you tug down his trousers and allow his enormous cock to spring free. He groaned between the swift motions slowly aligning his cock with your core and sliding into you. You both gasped at the contact. He moved slowly inch by inch letting you adjust to his size but he just wanted to get as deep as possible. You felt better than before. His thick cock hit your g spot almost immediately once he was in. He felt so deep and the stretch of him being back inside you had your mind turn to complete mush. You lost any control you had when he was fully inside. The force and pace of his thrusts increased and so did the volume of both your moans.

“You’re such a good girl, so fucking wet for me.” He said hearing the sounds of your slick as he dragged his cock slowly out of you and watched himself push all the way back thrusting harder. Your legs wrapped around him tightly as you let one of your heels drag down his muscular back. You were whining in pleasure. Your lips parted gasping at the sensation of him. You both were moaning inexplicable phrases of praise and adoration. You were completely obsessed with each other and how good the sex was only amplified it. You could feel another orgasm fast approaching.

“Please, please, please keep going.” You whimpered, feeling him continue to drill into you, the sand shifting beneath you with every rough thrust. You were getting lost in the pleasure that he was giving you while he was just as infatuated by your body and the sounds you were making had him fighting to not cum.

“Fuck, baby, feel so good. You’re gonna make me cum.” Jude grunted watching you quiver under him. The intensity of his fucking truly was overwhelming and became even more so when his hand dropped to rub harsh circles on your clit between your bodies. He let his spit drop down onto your throbbing pussy. You squeezed your eyes tight. Your mind was complete mush with every stroke seeming to hit deeper. “So close, angel. Cum with me. Will you cum with me?” Jude heaved, picking up your leg, draping it over his shoulder, kissing your ankle. You could only manage a nod. You let your head drop back letting out a sinful moan as he managed to hit even deeper inside of you. His whole length repeatedly hitting your g spot. Suddenly he felt an even more arduous determination to fuck into you like you’d never felt before. Jude bit his lip and with a devilish glint in his eye he watched you fall apart on his cock. Your pussy tightening impossibly around him.

“Jude… Jude… I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” You cried feeling like you were going to black out. Your body trembled as you squirted messily onto him and his cock. Pussy gushing around his thick girth in uncontrollable squirts. The release caused your body to shudder, your head pushing backwards with force, you were moaning his name senselessly.

“Fuck, fuck!” He cried out. “Baby I gotta cum. Fuck! Let me cum inside, please.” He was at his limit desperate to release. You could only nod again, you were in the pull and you didn’t want him to pull out. This felt too good. His harsh movements began to a halt as he buried himself deeper inside you. Pumping you full of his cum while pressing his lips to yours. You both laid into each other's sweaty bodies, foreheads resting on the other. His cock was soaked in your slick as he carefully and gently removed it as you both came down. Beneath the dark azure sky of a secluded Greek beach, the world seemed to hold its breath. The sun hung low, casting a golden glow over the sands that stretched like a whisper between the cliffs and the sea. The waves lapped gently against the shore, their rhythm a soft invitation, a lullaby that melted away the rest of the world. “Holy shit, angel.” Jude groaned, exhausted. You giggled as he rolled off you and pulled you into his body again, his laughter quick to follow yours. Jude’s hands traced the curve of your back, his touch like a brushstroke against your skin, each movement deliberate, reverent. You responded with a soft sigh, your fingers gripping his hair holding him to you. The salt-kissed breeze caressed your bare skin as your bodies entwined, a dance of want and need that was as old as the earth itself. Your breath hitched as Jude’s lips found the hollow of your neck, his touch both tender and urgent. Each kiss was like a drop of honey, sweet and languid. The sand beneath you was cool, grounding you even as you lost yourselves in each other. When you finally came to, breathless and spent the first stars were beginning to twinkle. You let the cool night air wash over you, the beach your publicly private haven. The sand, the sea, the sky were all witnesses to a moment that was at once primal and profound, a memory etched into the very fabric of the earth.

“I think we’ve been here for hours… I mean, is that the same star we've been staring at, or have we just been spinning around?" You giggled a little delirious from the sex and the wine.

"I think it’s the wine that’s spinning, not us. But who knows? Maybe the stars decided to join us." Jude smirked at you, moving you to settle more on his chest as he rubbed his hands over your warm skin.

"Maybe they did. It feels like we’re the only ones in the world right now." Your voice was soft paired with the waves hitting the shore as you shuffled nuzzling your face against his strong chest.

"Yeah? I don’t think I’d want it any other way. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so… what’s the word… content? Maybe that’s just the wine talking though." Jude laughed at himself. He was struggling to find his words and he wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the sex, or frankly, he was a little nervous that it may have been just you.

"Or maybe it’s me. I’m pretty great company, you know." You giggled and the sound rifled through Jude’s heart. It was like you were reading his inner most terrifying thoughts.

"I won’t argue with that. But honestly, you’re… different Y/N. Like, in a good way. You make everything feel lighter, like I could drift away if you weren’t holding me down." Jude laughed cautiously. His eyes had a warm front but there was a fear behind them that you were unable to see.

“Are you trying to say I keep you grounded, Judey? Because I can be a lot of things, but ‘grounded’ isn’t usually one of them." You playfully nudged him with a childish nickname that he normally hated and yet he didn’t even bat an eye when you said it.

“No, I mean it. There’s something about you… the way you laugh, the way you look at me like you’re figuring me out. It’s… I don’t know, refreshing Y/N." Jude told you sincerely the laughter disappearing from the night air. Jude was cautious around people especially since he had catapulted into fame. He trusted his gut and he trusted that it felt as if you really liked him for him, not for entity Jude Bellingham.

"You’re not so bad yourself. You’ve got that whole cocky confident athlete thing going on… But then you smile, and it’s like—bam! Everything changes." You blushed slightly wiggling against him to sit up to take a much needed sip of wine feeling incredibly parched by the serious undertone of this conversation.

"And how do you feel about that? About me changing things?" Jude leaned closer. His voice dropped low. A shiver ran up your spine along with Judes hand tracing up the protruding bones.

"It scares me a little… I won’t lie but I think I like it. I think. I like you… ” You confessed unexpectedly and uninhibitedly. You met his gaze, your voice almost a whisper. Jude shifting from this media persona to someone you were actually interested in made you very worried. “You know, like in a fun friend way.” You tried to rectify your admission. You didn’t want to fall for him and you certainly didn’t want to admit to it.

"Yeah, sure. That’s good, angel. I like you too you know in a ‘fun friend way.’” He mocked you with a pinch to your side. “A lot more than I expected.” Jude admitted himself, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your naked body. You shouldn’t have felt this comfortable completely bare on a beach but you did with him.

"What did you expect?” You laughed softly and a little nervously. You raised your brow at him wondering if you were supposed to be offended or not.

"Honestly? I didn’t expect you to be so… easy to talk to. So easy to want more of. I didn’t expect to be so interested.” Jude shrugged, taking his eyes off you and looking out into the blurred, dark, and distant horizon with a serious glare. He wasn’t sure what he thought he was saying but it felt vulnerable.

"I didn’t expect any of this either. But here we are, a little tipsy, a little reckless… and maybe that’s okay.” You turned and kissed his shoulder behind you. “So did you know I was coming on this holiday or was I just a pleasant surprise?” You giggled and reached up to cup his cheek to get him to look at you. You wanted him to know it was okay to just talk right now. You weren’t clinging to every word like it was bible.

"Yeah, it feels more than okay. Maybe it’s exactly what I need." Jude admitted looking down at you. He kissed the inside of your wrist holding his face. “I heard you’d be here. You were a big part of a pretty enticing holiday package I’ll be honest.” He shook his head very confused at how you were getting him to tell you all this.

“Oh…” You whispered inquisitively. You laid back down tangled together on the beach. The night was still warm, and you could feel the breeze brushing over your skin as you rested against Jude’s chest, both of you catching your breath. Jude shifted under you, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your arm. There was a comfortable silence, but you could sense something was on his mind. You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. "What’s going on in that head of yours?" You asked him, seeing as he just stopped talking moments ago.

“I, uh… I should probably tell you something. It’s kinda dumb, but I feel like you should know.” He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. Your curiosity piqued, you shifted onto your side to face him fully, your chin resting on his chest.

“Okay, sounds interesting.” You wanted to laugh but you also wanted him to share with you. He let out a low, almost nervous chuckle, avoiding your eyes for a second before finally meeting them.

“I’ve, uh... I’ve seen your Instagram. A lot. Like, I’ve gone through it more times than I care to admit.” He sheepishly told you. You blinked, surprised by the confession, but a grin immediately spread across your face.

"Wait, what?" You almost giggled but refrained, needing more. Jude groaned softly, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah, it’s embarrassing. I could probably tell you your Instagram handle backwards at this point, that’s how many times I’ve typed it in my search bar.” He ran his hand over his face. You laughed softly, teasing as you traced your fingers along his chest.

“So, what, you’ve seen all the bikini pictures? The selfies? All the nights out?” You giggled recalling some of your frequently posted content tropes. He groaned again, rolling his eyes with a sheepish grin.

“Yes, all of it. Every single post. All the nights out… in very tiny tiny skirts by the way.” He admitted with a sigh. You sat up slightly, still grinning.

“And you didn’t like one single post? Not one! Because I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed. Wow…” You cheekily smiled at him with some self satisfaction knowing he had been snooping around but you noticed your teasing wasn’t being received all that well so you dropped it and moved to place your hand on his leg, swiping your thumb over his knee a few times “Wait… how long has this been going on?” You mused with real curiosity. You felt like you would’ve seen it an account with millions upon millions of followers was in your likes or story views. Jude propped himself up on one elbow, giving you a lopsided smile.

“A while. I told you , you were part of why I agreed to come on the trip to Greece in the first place. I knew you’d be here, and, well… I wanted to meet you, not just admire from afar.” He gently explained. Your teasing expression fell and softened as his words settled in.

“Really?” You almost pouted but didn’t want to patronize him.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, a little rough with emotion. “I didn’t know when I’d have the chance otherwise. I’d heard Whitney and Trent talk about you, and then I saw you and then I didn’t want to miss the chance. I wanted to know if you were the same girl I’d been looking at through my phone.” He confessed. You felt a sudden warmth spread through your chest, your heart skipping a beat.

“And now?” You smiled. Jude reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he gazed at you.

“Yeah, think I prefer knowing you in real life.” He smiled back at you leaning forwards to rest his forehead against yours. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, the teasing gone, replaced by something deeper.

"Well," you murmured against his lips, "guess that makes two of us." You cooed as your lips met once more in a soft, lingering kiss, the kind that made the world around you fade into the background, leaving only the warmth of your connection and the sweet promise of something more.

“You’re not talking to Y/N right?” Jude sheepishly asked Trent’s brother, Marcel after you had snuck back up to everyone at the villa. Your disappearance was definitely noticed but not harped upon. Jude had taken a seat next to Marcel on the lawn.

“Nah mate, told you. It was just like a one off no big deal.” Marcel brushed him off with a wave of his hand. Marcel shot him a look of confusion. He assumed that was a given. Sure you were flirty by nature but it was clear you were into Jude. Jude had known and heard about you and Marcel and it didn’t bother him, not a bit. He just wanted to know where things stood and he was too juvenile to ask you. He didn’t want you to know he cared that much. He wasn’t supposed to care despite him not needing to.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sound.” Jude didn’t look at him, he kept his eyes locked on you as you moved, swaying in a hug with Whitney. You didn’t tell her the finer details of what just ensued down on the beach but you said you just wanted to ‘have some fun alone’ and you assumed she would understand. Jude began to smile seeing one pull on your face.

“Uhh ohhh. I see now. So you’re into herrrr, huh?” Marcel’s eyebrows raised interested watching Jude almost pout looking at you. He thought you were a sweet girl, fun, and a good time but he wasn’t trying to take anything more from it. Jude had thought he felt just the same until now.

“I don’t know if that’s the word. Just sussing her out.” Jude sighed, shifting to look back at him. ”Mate my heads a mess. It wasn’t exactly my plan for the holiday. She’s cool, you know?” He looked at Marcel hoping he wouldn’t take the piss and would maybe understand Jude’s confusion.

“Yeah cool, course, bro. Not the first thing that comes to mind when I look at her but...” Marcel started laughing Jude joined in. He jokingly shoved at him amidst the laughter. Your looks often were the first thing people, particularly men, seemed to notice.

“It’s maybe not the first thing I thought either. She’s so leng bro but also as much like I hate to say this because I know it sounds fucked up but she’s a lot smarter than I thought she might be.” Jude explained with a tinge of guilt in his voice.

“That is fucked up. I think meeting her as Whit’s friend I wasn’t expecting anything but. Whitney’s not exactly stupid.” Marcel laughed humorously criticizing Jude’s shallow expectations.

“No... no, she’s not. Stupid for being with Trentski for sure but otherwise no.” Jude continued laughing. It was apparent once all the boys in Trents life had met Whitney that she was more quick witted than her appearance might have had them assuming. They all gave Trent shit upon this discovery for him punching above his weight class. Although you were proving to be just as much of a heavyweight as she was.

“Bro’s fucking punching. For life as well, he’s locked in now” Marcel laughed both at his brother’s ability to pull a girl like Whitney but also the fact that he had fallen into a wildly serious and committed relationship.

“Definitely mad that it all came from some holiday.” Jude laughed along with him. “Maybe Y/N’s not a monogamous girl though like Whit. I don’t know her that well.” Jude threw a thought out he really had no interest in entertaining but in hopes it would help not ruin Marcel’s perception of him. He also didn’t want to end up looking like a simp the way Trent did after a holiday.

“Doubtful bro but I’m not gonna say no either.” Marcel laughed with a tinge of real disbelief in Jude’s sentiment he didn't feel comfortable with. Jude’s lack of sincerity in saying you may be a more than one man girl didn’t sit right with him. “I mean it’s not all that far fetched for you to end up the same though.” Marcel tried to switch the direction of the conversation to another possibility far from the one of sharing you.

“Eh… I mean she’s sick. I like her but she lives in New York and I… I don’t.” The reality of your fling with Jude loomed. He felt his heart sink a little.

“Didn’t stop them.” Marcel patted his knee and stood up. At the very same time Marcel was departing, you were walking by where they were sitting to head inside when Jude grabbed at you.

“You better be going to wait in my bed for me.” Jude cooed, his voice low and teasing as he traced his fingers lightly along your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You glanced down at him, meeting his gaze with a playful smile, swaying slightly on your feet. Lust was beginning to bubble in your chest. His other hand slid up your leg from your calf up your thigh.

“I will… in a bit.” You smiled with a wink. “I’ll meet you there, baby.” You flashed him a grin before turning away. You tailed Whitney inside to get more to drink which became a poor decision fast. Standing in the warm, flickering light of the villa's kitchen, you felt like you were floating on a cloud of tequila and laughter. Whitney and you were barely keeping your balance, your movements graceful in the way that only a couple of very drunk girls could manage. The bottle of Don Julio 42, so beautifully designed with its intricate patterns and rich amber hue, sat like a trophy on the counter between you. You admired it as though it were the most precious artifact in the world, your eyes glassy and your giggles louder than the music playing in the background. You reached for the bottle, struggling to pour more tequila into the pitcher while Whitney clutched a salt-rimmed glass, her fingers slipping and sliding over it like she was trying to grasp a slippery fish. You were both so thin, your alcohol tolerance barely holding up against the potent allure of the tequila. Every sip made your heads spin more delightfully, and your cheeks flushed with the heat of drunken exhilaration.

“Look at this,” Whitney said, her voice slurred and filled with admiration. “This bottle is like... a piece of art.” She cooed. You nodded, feeling the weight of the tequila in your veins, making you giddy and uninhibited. “It’s gorgeous. Like, if I could marry a bottle, it would be this one.” Whitney laughed, a joyous, carefree sound that mingled with the clinking of glasses. She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief and inebriation. “So, what about Judey?” The question hit you like a splash of cold water, though it was anything but unwelcome. You felt a flush of warmth spreading through you, not just from the alcohol but from the thought of him. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile that was already tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Oh, Jude,” You said, your voice a soft, dreamy sigh. “He’s... He’s Jude.” You sighed. “He’s so sweet. And there’s something... just sweet about him.” You said saying really nothing at all. You swayed slightly, your hand reaching for the bottle again, your fingers barely able to grasp it. Whitney, equally disoriented and amused, grinned at you with a knowing look.

“Really? You think so?” she asked, her tone playful and teasing. You pouted, taking a sip and letting the tequila warm you from the inside out.

“Yes, really. He’s like… sweet. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like... he’s so sweet, and... I don’t know. It’s just...” You babbled. Whitney laughed again, her laughter merging with yours, creating a symphony of drunken joy. You stumbled around the kitchen, your conversation growing more disjointed and incoherent as the tequila took hold. The world outside was a distant blur, and in that moment, it was just the two of you, tangled in a haze of tequila and unguarded confessions. As the night wore on and the tequila continued to flow, your words became less coherent, but the feeling of being carefree and in the moment remained. And amidst the drunken banter and endless giggles, the truth about Jude slipped out in the most vague and blissfully honest way possible. You two were absolutely housed. Whitney weighed exactly nothing, you, maybe a pound or two more than nothing. It wasn’t a hard task.

“Come on, drunk girl. Let’s go.” Trent sang coming into the kitchen wrapping his arms around Whitney. He lifted her effortlessly in his arms.The night spun faster as you struggled to maintain your own balance alone. Whitney wrapped herself around him ready for him to carry her to bed.

“Don’t you think Y/N should fuck Jude again?” Whitney slurred nuzzling into him. She had completely forgotten your sly insinuation after you had come up from the beach earlier.

“Yeah, baby. I think they’ll decide that though. Might’ve already happened, alright?” Trent gently spoke to her, shooting you a wink that made you laugh. ‘Such a gossip’ You mouthed to him. Trent took care of her and sometimes you envied having that person in your life. Whitney wanted that and you were fairly sure you didn’t but every so often it would ping in your chest maybe you just must’ve.

“Are you gonna fuck me, T baby?” Whitney slurred again, asking Trent as she kissed his neck like you weren’t there anymore.

“Nah, you and me are going to go have a cuddle.” Trent laughed, running his hand over her hair whilst trying to create some distance between them. “You’re good?” He cooed gently to you with a smile, watching you inflict a worse hangover on yourself finishing the rest of Whitney’s drink.

“All good. Thanks, T.” You smiled before heading down the hall very obviously towards Jude’s room and away from yours. Trent only able to laugh. The way Trent cared for Whitney with such tenderness and attention was maybe something you longed for, though you were unsure if you would ever allow yourself to truly desire it. It was a bittersweet realization. You watched them with a mix of admiration and longing, feeling the weight of your own unresolved desires. The Grecian air was still warm through the house as you stumbled into Jude's room, your head swimming with the dangerous mix of wine and tequila. The villa was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moon casting long shadows across the marble floors. You were giddy, feeling the alcohol loosen your limbs and lower your inhibitions. Jude had told you to go wait in his bed, a suggestion that seemed anything but innocent. You didn't think much of it as you peeled off your clothes, leaving a trail from the door to his bed. You stared in a mirror and sighed, catching a glimpse of yourself. You hope you looked good enough for him. Your momentary self reflection was short lived as you started laughing. Who were you kidding? He was lucky to have you in his bed. You took more than good care of yourself so you drunkenly skipped over to the bed with confidence and slipped under the covers, your bare skin immediately cooled by the soft sheets. Your head spun, but you felt comforted by the familiar scent of Jude on the pillow beside you. It smelled like a mix of salt, from the ocean air, and something distinctly him—a combination of woodsy cologne and sun-warmed skin. You curled up into a ball, letting the exhaustion take over. A bit later, Jude entered the room, a soft smile pulling at his lips as he saw you already nestled in his bed, asleep, your hair fanned out on his pillow. You looked so peaceful, your face relaxed in a way he rarely saw. He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. It was a sight he wouldn't have expected to find tonight, but there you were-completely naked and unapologetically in his space. He quietly got ready for bed, brushing his teeth and washing the last remnants of the night off his face. When he slid into bed next to you, he kissed you all over carefully. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling your soft, warm body press against his. You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open as you felt the weight of his arms around you. In your sleepy haze you were grabbing for more of him.

“Alright, c’mere.” Jude cooed softly with a breathy laugh and a kiss to your temple pulling you into him all the more. You were a clingy drunk and Jude had amplified it. Usually you used to push for drunk sex and you did with him that first night but you also just wanted him to hold you now

"Jude?" You murmured, your voice laced with sleep. “You took so long.” You pouted, smushing your face into his warm chiseled chest.

"Yeah, it's me.” He whispered back, his hand gently rubbing your back. You nuzzled closer to him, your lips brushing against his bare chest as you did. “I’m sorry, I’m here now, angel. Were you waiting for me?” He smuggly grinned loving the fact that you had been and you were so cuddly with him now because of it. He had just stayed up a bit later playing a few games of cards with some of the boys. It wasn’t actually that much later, you were just drunk.

“Yeah.” You said sadly with a dramatic frown. Jude was enjoying this. It was adorable, you showing him an incredibly more vulnerable side. “I wanted a kiss.” You confessed holding your pout. Your drunkenness allowing your true want to come spilling out. Your words slurring slightly from the alcohol and the sleep.

“Well you can come get one, baby. C’mere. I wanted a kiss too.” He cooed with a breathy laugh. His heart swelled at your admission. You seemed to always be so guarded, so careful to keep your emotions hidden away. But here, in this quiet, intimate moment, you were letting yourself be vulnerable with him. He tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Too tired now.” You barely got out a whisper as sleep began to take over.

“Oh, okay.” He laughed more out right, wrapping his arms tightly around you. “I’m sorry. You can have a kiss whenever you want though. So you can get one whenever.” He smiled, pressing his lips to your hair once more. His voice was a low rumble in the dark room. You laid there in silence for a while, just holding each other, the rhythm of your breathing slowly syncing up. But then, from down the hall, you heard the unmistakable sounds of someone else in the villa having sex. Your eyes snapped open, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You didn’t recognize the noise coming from down the hall though. You knew it wasn’t Whitney and Trent, unfortunately you knew that sound better than you’d like to. You glanced up at Jude, your mind suddenly connecting the dots.

“Wait you wanted to have sex.” You frowned feeling incredibly bad you let sleep and too much tequila probably derail what Jude thought he was walking into. You were trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. You felt horribly being in his bed now, like you should leave immediately.

“It’s okay, angel.” Jude chuckled, his chest vibrating under your cheek. You didn’t feel fully convinced. Your drunken mind twisted his words, making you feel insecure. You frowned, feeling a twinge of rejection.

“You don’t want to have sex with me?” You asked embarrassed and saddened. Jude watched your facial expression break, feeling hurt by his words. His heart ached reading your inner thoughts that were plastered across your face. He could hear your voice almost shake, the way you were almost pleading for him to want you. Jude immediately shook his head, his thumb brushing across your cheek.

“I do, trust me I really do but tomorrow.” He laughed very sure he would’ve liked that but Jude still wasn’t crazy knowing that you hadn’t remembered the first time. “I just want a cuddle from you. Do you want to have a cuddle with me?” He gently lifted your chin so you would look at him, his expression soft and sincere. You nodded. It did ping in your head that this was thoughtful just in the way Trent was to Whitney earlier but it was a fleeting thought. You were too drunk to hold onto it. “Thank you for getting naked for me though, that was really nice of you.” Jude laughed rubbing his hands over your body.

“I wanted you to like me.” You mumbled against his warm skin earnestly. You really felt like that was the only way he would like you.

“I like you with or without clothes.” Jude cooed with that same ache returning from before. His voice firm but kind. He didn’t like that, drunk or not, how you thought that was the only way he would like you.

“Really?” You meekly asked, picking your head up. You rested your chin on his chest. A sleepy smile pulling on your lips.

“Yeah. Course hard not to.” He told you honestly, kissing your forehead.

“I like you.” You unexpectedly admitted to him through your haze. Jude smiled more than happy hearing it, even though a part of him already knew it. You had tried to walk out of it on the beach but he knew it wasn’t in a ‘fun friend way.’

“I know. C’mere Angel.” He cooed, pulling you into a tight embrace, you were securely wrapped in his arms as if Jude could shield you from the world. Maybe Whitney was right. He was nicer than you thought. He swayed your body back and forth with his. He could feel you relax against him, your breathing evening out as you started to drift back to sleep. He pressed another kiss to your head, his heart swelling with affection. He was determined to show you that you didn't need to put up a front with him, that you were enough just as you were. And as he closed his eyes, holding you close, he knew he'd do whatever it took to prove that to you. Jude liked you a lot, more than he even thought. You’d been glued together the whole holiday. He wasn’t sure how to manage this and neither were you. Jude thought he’d see the trip out. You were attempting to keep your distance but failing miserably when he came up behind you in the kitchen pinning you against the counter top.

“You want to sit next to me for the movie?” Jude whispered to you, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. An unforeseen rainstorm shook up previous evening plans, the night shifting to an impromptu movie night.

“Depends. How close do I get to be to you?” You cooed trying to fight back a giggle feeling his hands run up and down your sides dragging your top up with his big hands.

“We can share a blanket. Can be however close you want.” Jude smiled, his lips curling against your skin. You pushed your back into his chest, Jude subtly peppering small kisses behind your ear for no one but you to notice.

“Perfect…” You cooed, keeping your eyes fixed ahead on the microwave. A bag of popcorn spinning around as you listened to the kernels pop inside. “And when the lights go out and my hands wander, is that going to be okay?” You asked Jude with a pur. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.

“I’d encourage it, mine are.” Jude cooed, letting his hands wrap around you entirely. They dropped down your stomach to come and play with the drawstring on your shorts. A shiver ran up your spine with the microwave beginning to beep dragging you out from the moment of sheer bliss feeling Judes hands on you. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering screen as a movie played out in front of you all. The large, comfortable couch was crowded with friends, everyone lounging with drinks in hand, half-watching the film and half-whispering in quiet conversations. You and Jude were sitting together on one end of the couch, your bodies intertwined under the blanket Jude promised. The night had been filled with laughter and teasing, but now, in the softness of the late hour, there was a fragile tension between you. You felt the warmth of Jude almost beneath you. The movie droned on, but your mind was elsewhere—on the way his arm rested around your shoulders, his fingers slowly stroking your skin. Jude could feel the heat radiating from your skin. His heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever you shifted, brushing against him even more. You glanced at him, catching the subtle way his eyes flicked toward you before quickly returning to the screen. You had been so courageous in the kitchen but now surrounded by everyone else under the warm blue light of the screen, despite the cover of the blanket, you felt more exposed than ever. You were nervous on how to navigate this. It wasn’t the physical touch that made you nervous but the comfort you felt with him. Somehow this public cuddle felt far more intimate than sex. It was a dance, this game of touches and stolen glances, a wordless conversation filled with question marks and ellipses. The anticipation was electric, crackling in the small space between you. As the movie rolled on, Jude shifted slightly, his arm moving in what seemed like a casual gesture at first but he was throwing caution to the wind. He wanted you closer to him. He gripped your arm and pulled you into him with a hum. It sent a rush of warmth through you. You were so thankful he made the move. Your heart thudded in your chest as you leaned against his chest feeling the strength and warmth of him even through the fabric of his shirt. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his hand resting against you, the quiet weight of it grounding you in this tender, tentative moment. You leaned into him more, enough to send a clear message. Jude responded in kind, his body relaxing into your, his fingers tracing small, gentle circles on your skin. The touch was soft, almost shy, as if he was testing your reaction, afraid to push too far, but eager to deepen the connection. Your head found its way to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that made you feel safe, as though you were in your own little world, separate from the rest of the group. You could feel the rise and fall of his breath, the way it seemed to catch slightly when you moved, the way it synced with your own.

“What’s happening?” One of the boys asked, breaking the spell as they tried to follow the plot of the movie. You lifted your head slightly, still close to Jude but now aware of the world around you again. You hadn’t been paying attention to the screen at all, lost in the quiet, courageous touches you were exchanging. Jude’s hand stilled on you, dragging your body tighter into him, inadvertently and unintentionally protecting you from reality.

“Honestly, no idea,” Jude said softly, his voice low, meant only for you to hear. His breath was warm against your temple, and the sound of his voice so close made your heart skip. You smiled, your lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

“Me neither.” You whispered back, your hand moving to rest lightly on his chest, just over his heart. “But I think I like this better.” Jude’s arm tightened slightly around you, a subtle but unmistakable affirmation.

“Yeah.” He murmured, his lips grazing your hair, the touch so light you almost thought you imagined it. “Me too.” He cooed. You stayed like that, wrapped in the tender warmth of each other, the movie long forgotten as you cuddled closer, the touches growing less tentative, more confident. Jude’s hand slipped down your arm, his fingers intertwined with yours, holding you close in a way that felt both protective and intimate. You began to doze off after the movie ended, comforted by him. The boys had queued up the sequel, all of them entranced by a film series getting lost in the next movie. It was well into the morning, the rain had long gone and you were practically on top of Jude at this point. “Going to sleep, angel?” Jude whispered to you.

“Hmmm? What is this the 4th?” You asked Jude after you heard the theme music for the series began again.

“Nah, only the third.” He whispered kissing your temple with a cheeky smile watching you cuddling up to him more. “Want me to bring you to my room?” Jude offered.

“No, I just want to stay right here. Is that okay?” You asked him quietly, not able to even pick your head up, you were so tired. You were exhausted but you were so cozy with him you didn’t want to be apart. Not even a bed could be better.

“Yeah, course, you’re good, angel.” He smiled, pulling you tighter to him, resting his chin on your head after a subtle kiss. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep completely in Jude’s arms as the third movie rolled on.

“Judey, Judey, Judeyy.” Whitney teased from across the room. She sat up in Trent’s arms with a smug smile. As she sang the nickname that bothered him so much poking fun at Jude’s affection towards you it pinged in his head that he really didn’t mind when you had said it just the same earlier. He flipped her off and put his arm back around you where he wanted it.

•

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 3 - Mr. Madrid xx

#jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham

154 notes · View notes

foodfightnovelization · 13 days

Text

More Foodfight! Material DISCOVERED

That's right, I'm back. Just like I prophesized in my last post, yet another treasure trove of Foodfight! goodness has been uncovered, and this might be one of the strangest to date...that's right, official Foodfight! Cinnamon Sleuth Cereal was sold at Albertsons back in 2007, over five years before the movie finally came out!

Okay, not really, but I had you going for a second, right? So, this IS a proposed packaging design for actual Cinnamon Sleuth cereal, but it never went into production, it never made it to stores and there was certainly never any actual cereal to be eaten. This, among several other designs and a collection of behind the scenes material, was sent in recently by a Foodfight! crewmember, who explained they were mockups created to show off possible tie-in products. I'm not sure why they chose Albertsons for these mockups but it's likely they were in talks with them at the time and wanted to show off designs including their branding. In any case, I just had the Cinnamon Sleuth box printed because I thought it'd look cool next to my collection of Foodfight! merchandise, and I wanted to see if anyone would be convinced this really existed.

I've included all the designs above in case you want to print your own- there are several more including another cereal, brownie packaging and milk cartons. Curiously, the milk cartons have Farmland Dairy logos on them, with Farmland Milk actually appearing in the finished film at several points. I'd say this confirms my theory these mockups were created to show to companies they were already actively working on deals with, but I can't say for certain that was the case.

Equally curious are these character sheets from 2002, seemingly showing off almost every model created during early production. There are so many fascinating layers to this- Sunshine is still a human instead of a catgirl, showcasing a very different model to the one seen in the initial trailer, and Maximilius Moose is still a dog named Panzer Pup, both aspects that were changed once the decision was made to change Dex to a dog. However, it may be that Dex's human design was edited out and replaced after the fact, given Dex's model here appears to be the one from the finished film (you can tell by the weird hands). In any case, it's fascinating to get a closer look at all these characters- while the majority of the models for the main cast were found recently (see my last post for more on this), there are a bunch of side characters here we've only seen brief glimpses of before, including the Pringles man and the scantily-clad Cherry Waifer. The most fascinating to me however are the Red and Yellow M&Ms- I've read through their scene in the movie's script, I've seen multiple versions of the storyboard, even rough layout animation in the workprint, and it's only now I'm FINALLY getting to see their actual character models and how they would've looked in the Foodfight! artstyle. Sure, they more or less look exactly as they did in M&M commercials that aired around the same time, but it's still amazing to actually see these characters modelled and rendered after analyzing so many different iterations of the scene as it went through development.

The crewmember in question also sent a folder containing over a hundred stills which while at first glance appear to be from the finished movie, are actually subtly different in multiple ways- usually lighting, facial expressions, or background textures like the sky or color of a hill. A lot of these are labelled "fix" which makes me speculate if after the movie was completed, the crew went back and tried to touch up the animation to make it look more appealing before release. Is there a slightly better looking version of Foodfight! somewhere out there in the world? Who knows, but really it would've been like trying to polish a turd. The movie was already ruined by then, and I don't think any number small changes would've done much to salvage it. However, that does bring me to my next interesting point...

There are also storyboards dated May 2011, depicting an alternate opening to the movie giving a much more cinematic introduction to the main characters. It's crazy to think they were still working on storyboards so late in production, but there IS actually a reason for this. I unfortunately can't upload the entire sequence due to this site's image limit, but what you might notice are a lot of characters being described as "flying over the audience", "flying into the camera" or knocking things "into the audience", with some of the boards having "(3D)" written in parenthesis next to them. It's my belief that very late into production, Kasanoff wanted the movie to be 3D, made popular by the then-recent Avatar, and this new opening sequence full of flashy 3D effects was drawn up to show off what they could do with the technology. It's not clear if any of this was ever actually animated, but imagine going to see a movie that advertises itself as 3D but only the first minute contains any 3D elements. Of course, Kasanoff requesting this is only speculation on my part, but given how the movie was ruined by the crew having to cater to his whim of directing the whole thing with motion capture (made popular by the then-recent Polar Express) it's no stretch to assume the 3D opening sequence was a similar situation.

There's a ton more that was sent to us as well, so much so that I could never hope to talk about all of it. However, it should be on archive.org at the time of writing this if it isn't already, and you can now access everything Foodfight! related through the official Foodfight! collection on there!

That's right, so much Foodfight! material has been uploaded over the past year that the Internet Archive gave it its own archive, allowing you to find everything in one convenient place (including my scans of the novelization and Deluxe Sound Storybook). It'll also be updated periodically whenever something new is found, so it'll always be the home to all things Foodfight!. Whether you're wanting to take a look at some concept art shown in ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight, read through an early draft of the script, or check out something I've talked about on my blog, it's all here at your fingertips.

I don't think there's ever really going to be an end to the depth of the Foodfight! rabbithole. I thought I was done a year ago when I finished analyzing the novelization, and look at everything that's been found since then. Every time I think I'm out, this movie pulls me back in. So...in my next post I'll FINALLY show off my collection of Foodfight! merchandise and talk about what this movie means to me, but that doesn't mean it's the end for this blog. Whenever I say I'm done with Foodfight! I end up jinxing it, so if I try to conclude things now in a few months some CD will show up with a bunch of lost footage on it, I'll get mailed concept art of a bunch of characters we've never seen before, or it'll turn out Larry Kasanoff was actually D.B. Cooper the whole time. So as long as there's something new to discuss, as long as there's a Foodfight to be fought, I'll keep updating this blog from now until forever. You better duck when they launch the cream pies!

#foodfight #dex dogtective #daredevil dan #charlie sheen #lost media #cereal #milk #brownies #storyboards

145 notes · View notes

esmedelacroix · 11 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.1

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluff, fluff, and more fluff

author's note: Hi lovies, this is the very first part of my first series. I hope you enjoy it! I suggest you listen to "Bittersweet Faith" by Bitter:Sweet on loop while reading this. It does a nice job setting the vibe I'm going for. Enjoy...

word count: 1.1k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

Yet another slow night at the Mug & Muffin Coffee House, to no one's surprise, not a single soul drinks coffee at night. You always keep the shop open in case someone wants to swing by and get some baked goods for the night. The rest usually goes to the homeless shelter five blocks away. You sit by the counter chin propped up on your hand, as fatigue droops your head down, and Peter Pan sprinkles fairy dust on your eyelids dragging them down.

The lethargic vibe of the shop with slow jazz playing in the background is suddenly disrupted by the frantic ring of the doorbells. Your head shoots up immediately with the sudden burst of noise. The cool winter air bites at your skin until the door is closed and you are back in the embrace of the blasting heater. Your eyes readjust to the warm lights bringing you back into your shop surrounded by the endless coffee beans, leafy green plants, books, and the myriad of photos framed in rusting gold Victorian frames. The shop is completely empty, snapping yourself back into reality, you direct your focus to the customer who had just walked in.

Your lips parted slightly as a little gasp left your mouth. He was a middle-aged man, with golden skin the color of black coffee with a bit of creamer, his mahogany hair was slicked back in a perfect disaster, with wisps of stray gelled hair strands framing his face perfectly. He had the sharpest and highest cheekbones, a cleanly shaved face, and pearly white teeth. He stood at almost seven feet and struggled with getting the mistletoe above the door out of his hair.

Holy smokes he's hot. Where did this man come from? you asked yourself.

He huffed as he finally freed himself from the clutches of the mistletoe. "What a low doorframe," he mumbled to himself in annoyance.

"Or maybe you're just wicked tall," you answered offering him a bright smile.

He quirked a brow at your playful comment. His face gave no gateway to his thoughts.

"Welcome to Mug & Muffin, what can I make you tonight?" you asked looking up at him to meet his gaze.

"I'll have a hot black coffee please," he replied as he took his wallet out.

Your facial naturally contorted at this odd request. You checked your watch to make sure you weren't going crazy. Yep, 9 pm, why is this psycho getting coffee? You looked back up at his unbothered face.

That perfectly chiseled unbothered face. Fuck you for being so perfect mystery man. You thought to yourself as you started to type the order into the machine.

"Would you like any cream or sugar with that sir?" she inquired as their eyes met briefly.

"Nope just black coffee," he responded in a passive-aggressive tone.

"Okay, and can I get a name with this order?" you chirped, to which he replied, "Miguel O'Hara,"

You hummed as you printed his receipt out and handed it to him after he had paid. He chose to get a seat facing the counter. Lucky me, you thought to yourself. You were quite content that you had some eye candy to feast on tonight.

You quickly made his black coffee while sneaking little peeks at him. A pair of reading glasses adorned the bridge of his nose as he taped away at his laptop. You brought his piping hot black coffee to him, and he thanked you with a little head nod, eyes still glued to his computer screen before he looked up at you.

"Would you like coffee cake or some kind of muffin with your coffee? I have a bunch of extras, it'd be on the house," you suggested.

"No thank you, I don't like sweets," he answered. You exaggeratedly gasped at his sudden revelation.

"You don't like sweets," you demanded as you placed your hands on your hips, trying your hardest to give him an angry face. He found your efforts to look angry cute rather than intimidating. He stifled laughter as he answered, "No, I do not," cooly.

"Are you even real?" you grumbled to yourself as you shook your head and ticked your tongue. You sashayed back behind the counter to pack up the sweets to drop off at the Nueva Hope Homeless Shelter. You watched Miguel sip his coffee from the corner of your eye, surprisingly he didn't burn his tongue. His head shot up and surprise marked his eyes as he looked down at his drink and then back at you, before letting out a satisfied hum of approval. He quickly finished his mug while doing his work.

Truthfully the shop closed 15 minutes ago but Miguel sat there too lost in his emails, documents, and reports to realize that you had shut the light off at the counter and put up every chair but the one he was sitting in. He only came back to earth after you had 'accidentally' dropped your keys on the ground next to him. As cliche as the night already was, you both went to pick them up, both your hands grazing each other. He quickly retreated his hand and looked around realizing that it was beyond time for him to go.

He packed his work bag as you loaded the back of your car with boxes upon boxes of extra baked goods. Closing the trunk of the car, you peeped back into the shop to see Miguel placing money in the tip jar. You chuckled to yourself as he stepped out walking up to you. "That was the best coffee I have ever tasted," he started. You crossed your arms and smiled warmly looking up at him.

"I never got your name though," he trailed off.

"And you'll never get it," you teased

"Everyone in the area calls me Baby though," you explained.

"Yeah I'm not calling you that," Miguel said flatly. You laughed at his response as you locked up.

"You have a good night Miguel!" you called out as you opened your car door.

He gave you a lazy wave and you drove away. Night fell on Nueva York along with the snow. When you finished your delivery, you entered your apartment right above the shop with the tip jar in hand. You had emptied it before but Miguel had put something in it. When you opened it your eyes widened at the several twenty dollar bills. There was a small sticky note folded in the jar. You pick it up and unfold it. The sticky note read, "You are way too energetic at nine o'clock at night, but that was the best coffee I've ever had, will be coming again,"

Next... Pt.2

a/n: should i make a tag list?

294 notes · View notes

bookishdaze · 3 months

Text

It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's a...Chimpanzee?

How bird imagery, planes, mentions of flying, and Noa's intelligence could be foreshadowing Noa taking flight.

Get out your tinfoil hats. It's theory time!

I've been thinking about what'll happen to Noa and how the rest of the story will unfold. While doing so, I came up with this crazy theory. You'll have to forgive me for my wild imagination at times, haha.

To make this sound a little less...insane, I'll start with evidence that is in the actual movie itself before I start branching out towards more speculative territory.

Noa and Bird Imagery

Throughout the movie, Noa is likened to a bird through bird imagery. One way this is done is through feathers. Feathers are worn by the apes in Eagle Clan as necklaces, arm bands, baldrics, and other accessories, with elders like Koro wearing a lot more. Younger apes and apes of lesser status wear feathers too, just not as many. Even some of the children wear necklaces with a singular feather. These feather accessories come in blues, browns, and whites.

Here's the thing: Noa is the only one without colorful feathers.

Take a look at this image of the trio. Soona has her blue feather necklace, and Anaya has his brown feather arm accessory, but Noa doesn't have any similar adornments. It can't be because Noa is the youngest since we see children have feather necklaces, and we know Soona and Anaya aren't that much older than Noa, for they were "born within a sunset."

Noa has some feathers near his belt, but they're white and stringy, and don't match with the more elaborate feather accessories of other apes in the clan. They remind me of white fluffy baby eagle feathers, while everyone else's accessories have the larger, colorful feathers of a more mature bird.

Having Noa not wear colorful feather accessories while other apes do means that feathers are symbolic of Noa's character growth.

Noa starts off with little to no feathers because he's still a young ape at the beginning of his hero's journey who is yet to undergo his trials and break free out of his shell. To further emphasize Noa being likened to a bird, the catalyst of his journey is the literal cracking of an egg. When hatchlings are first born, they're featherless. He's even called "baby bird" by Lightning after he first arrives at Proximus' kingdom.

After Noa has defeated Proximus, brought Eagle Clan back home, and returned from his journey back to the ordinary world with new knowledge, our "baby bird" Noa has sprouted his first mature feathers. Look at 'em. They're so blue and pretty.

And I assume after the death of Noa's father, Noa will become the clan's new Master of Birds, or is at least on his way to become one.

The Planes

One thing that really stood out to me were the multiple planes in the background. We see these planes where Raka lives, which appears to be an abandoned airport. They're all rusted and crumbling apart after centuries of rotting. There's six planes in these two images alone.

Along with these abandoned planes, there's also this moldy mural of humans looking up at planes in the sky. There are so many planes in these scenes at Raka's home that I couldn't just chalk it up to mere coincidence. It could just be a cool way to show how much time has passed since humanity's downfall and how nature has reclaimed the earth, but I also think it might be foreshadowing staring at us right in the face.

Mentions of Flight and Falling

Ok, moving away from planes now. There's a few lines that caught my attention. One is right after Raka meets Noa. The friendly orangutan helps Noa up to his feet, then says to himself in amusement:

"Apes falling from the sky."

It's an unusual line, almost prophetic-sounding. Kinda funny, too. Reminds me a bit of the saying "when pigs fly," which is used as a figure of speech when describing something as impossible. Pigs will never fly, because it is impossible. Apes falling from the sky? Unthinkable. It sounds ridiculous, because it'll never happen...right?

Another line is when Proximus tells Noa of all the things humans used to do when they were the dominant species. We even hear these lines in the trailer, but in the movie, they're slightly different:

"In their time, humans were capable of many great things. They could level mountains. They could speak across oceans. They could fly, Noa! Like eagles fly!"

Proximus uses eagles when describing flight. The same type of bird Noa's clan raises and is named after.

And this might be a bit of a stretch, but Proximus mentioning Noa's name to bring his attention to the idea that humans could fly makes me feel like it was a purposeful decision by the writers as a little slip of foreshadowing for future events.

Ok, so what do planes, bird imagery, Noa being compared to a bird, and references to flying and falling have to do with each other?

From this point on, this is where I start heading towards more tinfoil hat territory, but indulge me, and bear with me. Remember, at the end of the day, this is all just fun theorizing. Here we go!

I think at some point, Noa will fly.

By the end of Kingdom, Noa has started to grow his first feathers, but there is still a long journey ahead before he can take flight. There will be a point in the story when Noa has fully grown into the ape he's meant to be, and just like a bird, will get to spread his wings for the very first time.

But why stop at just bird imagery? Why stop at metaphor, and have him literally fly?

Remember those planes? Could they have been foreshadowing that Noa will ride one?

As to why or how he finds himself in a plane, I'm not sure. It's too early to tell. Maybe humans are flying a plane that he has to sneak onto. Maybe humans force him onto a plane. Maybe he willingly agrees to ride one and go with the humans somewhere far (The humans from Fort Wayne are far from the west coast). Maybe he has to stop a plane. Maybe he's in a falling plane. Maybe him and Eagle Clan have to ride one to get to safety. The possibilities are endless.

Now let's take it a step further. What if Noa were to fix and pilot a plane?

Noa As An Engineer

Noa fixing and flying a plane sounded crazy at first, even to me, but in an early interview, Noa has been described as an "engineer" by Owen Teague.

We definitely see Noa's ingenuity multiple times in Kingdom. More specifically, Noa is really good at fixing things. When he finds the frame for the fish broken, he spends the rest of the day whittling away at a piece of wood for the frame, staying up late at night to finish his work.

When he finds one of the electric staffs, he spends a few nights tinkering with it until he finally gets it to work. This is important, because later on it is revealed it was Trevathan who built these weapons. When Proximus tells everyone at the dinner table that Noa was able to fix it, Trevathan gives Noa a look of shock, as if this were the first time he encountered an ape capable of doing so.

We also see Noa slowly picking up on how electricity works through his multiple encounters with it. He has his first encounter when Sylva uses the electric staff to shock Noa through metal as a conductor not once, but twice.

His second encounter is when he's repairing the electric staff. His third encounter is when he watches Proximus' apes try to open the vault, observing how they use electricity to set off the explosions.

Through careful observation and learning, Noa comes to understand how electricity is a power that runs through a wire when setting up the bombs with Mae to flood the vault. This is to show us that Noa is capable of understanding human technology.

In addition, the movie doesn't just want us to know Noa is smart, but that Noa's intelligence is a source of fear for the humans. Remember Trevathan's shocked look? Noa's intelligence even frightens Mae.

In this interview with Freya Allan about one of the other versions of Noa and Mae's goodbye scene, she mentions how Mae was going to kill Noa because his intelligence scares her. She doesn't want to, but she feels like she has to.

On Reddit, Wes Ball gives his perspective on what Mae bringing the gun means. One thing he mentions in parenthesis is to pay attention to the deliberate look Mae gives Noa when he repairs the staff.

One way I interpret Mae's look is her realizing what it would mean for apes to have the power to understand and even build advanced technology.

Think about it. The only advantage, the only chance humans have against the apes is their human technology. Apes are bigger, stronger, can survive in the wild, and will overpower a human in physical combat any day of the week. But as long as humans have their weapons and machines, they have a chance of reclaiming the world. That's another reason why Mae cannot under any circumstances allow Proximus to have this technology, for humans would lose their only advantage.

But it won't matter how many vaults humans flood or how much old technology they destroy so apes don't get their hands on it. If apes can just learn and build it themselves, clever apes like Noa are now a threat to humanity's future.

My overall point is that they're heavily emphasizing how smart Noa is by having him fix things, understand human technology, and how his intelligence scares humans.

Why show us all of this if it's not going to come into play in some big way in the future? What will he fix in the next movies? What other human technology could he pick up on? What could be scarier for humans than apes mastering electricity?

How about an ape fixing an airplane, understanding how it works, and mastering the ability of flight?

Airplanes Inspired by Birds

One way they could set up Noa to fly a plane is to have him develop a fascination for flight, particularly through birds.

"They could fly, Noa! Like eagles fly!" -- Proximus.

With Noa as an engineer and with plenty of birds at his disposal, especially if he becomes the clan's new Master of Birds, Noa could start studying birds to understand how they fly.

A quick Google search will show that a lot of the early ideas for flight were inspired by birds. It's called biomimicry, which is design based on the study of something found in nature. Take a look at these pictures as examples that I found while researching this.

Humans have been looking up towards the sky and dreaming of one day being able to fly, so they started inventing ways to be able to do so by first studying birds. The more ape society advances, it makes sense that apes will one day yearn to do the same.

Noa's Thirst for Knowledge

Noa starts the movie as a rule follower. Follow the law. Don't go to the forbidden valley. Listen to the elders. Eagle Clan has to submit to their new king Proximus, for it is law.

This all changes when Noa looks down at the symbol of Caesar, a reminder of a leader who had led with strength and compassion, a leader so unlike Proximus, and realizes with clarity that the law is wrong. The elders were wrong. The elders did not tell him everything because they do not know everything.

The story ends with Noa back at home with Eagle Clan. However, Noa has had a taste of what's beyond the borders of his village. There are books with strange symbols he can't understand yet. He found this strange machine that allows him to see stars far into the void of space. He doesn't know how, but somehow, humans could fly. He knows there's more out there. He's intelligent, and he's curious. He'll want to reach for the stars himself. The movie even ends with Noa gazing up at the sky. They're setting Noa up to be a character that wants to learn and understand all these new things.

This also reminds me of this quote, which is fitting, considering the topic of this theory.

"Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."

In Conclusion, Why Fly?

Having Noa fly could be how this trilogy continues the parallels to Noah's Ark and the Flood by having Noa and Eagle Clan get on an airplane that Noa fixes and flies in order for them to escape some great danger.

This could also be how Noa, Master of Birds, becomes a mythical figure for the apes by having him be the first ape to fly, the same way Caesar became a mythical figure by having him be the first ape to speak.

If not a mythical figure, this could make Noa one of the founding fathers of science in ape society, setting up the stage for ape scientists in the future like Zira and Cornelius. I could also jump the shark and talk about how Noa's dreams that were only mentioned in the trailer were not dreams of the past, the future, or Caesar's ghost like we all thought, but were the dreams of a scientist's mind coming up with the first ideas for innovations like electricity and flight.

In the trailer, Noa said his dreams were of strange things. New things.

Do you know how many great inventions came from dreams? Einstein's theory of relativity. The periodic table. The model of the atom.

Having Noa fly could be great for so many reasons. Not only for his character arc, but for the worldbuilding of ape society and ape mythology, especially if they have more movies set far in the future. They have plans for 9 total movies!

Finally, I want to share a scene from The Planet of the Apes (1968) where Cornelius and Zira, two chimpanzee scientists, question Taylor's ability to fly.

Having Noa, a chimpanzee, learn to fly, something considered an impossibility by apes, would be such a wonderful way to have this story rhyme with what came before.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #pota #kotpota #noa #mae #noa pota #mae pota #my theory #this movie is making me go insane #I need the next one pronto

83 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 2 months

Note

Hi, Puff! I got a question about Lore Rekindled. I think you said that the titan we see during the night,when Perse went on the roof to talk to Hades(?), was Selene? I was just wondering why you chose a colour that was more purple for her skin and the literal night sky for her hair? 🤔 y'know, instead of all silver like how Helios is all gold? I think she looks cool but the colours make me think of Nyx instead of Selene. Or was it because it was a new moon night so you technically can't see the moon even though it's actually there?

Good luck on the next episode! I can't wait to read it! 😄

Ah, good question! So when designing Selene, I wanted her to actually resemble the moon in some way, more so than how she was tackled in LO. Her hair blending into the night sky is meant to give off the same impression of the darkness covering the moon, causing the different phases of the moon - sometimes her form is half-concealed, sometimes she's fully exposed, etc.

I wasn't really expecting people to confuse her with Nyx (though I don't blame anyone for that) as Nyx has a much more regular role in LO than Selene (though not by much lmao) and a far more unique design which I'm planning on retaining if/when she appears in the comic. Though I will be making some changes to Nyx's design and concept as well for the sake of the worldbuilding, but you'll have to wait and see what I do with her in that regard ;3

To me, when I picture the moon in the magical, ethereal, larger-than-life sense that I would picture Helios within the design context of LO, I wanted her to be more than just a silver Persephone-looking goddess riding around on a horse (and the reality is that Selene was barely in the comic when she first made her appear in LR, like prior to the finale when she was suddenly dropped into the comic as a real character she was just sort of this background NPC with a single cameo appearance, much like Charon).

So I ultimately went with more of a shimmering mixed blue palette, which is complementary to Helios' golden color schemes, and implemented her more into the sky as an actual force of nature much like how Helios is the sun. This was sort of the compromise that I came to between designing a more myth accurate Selene vs. designing a Selene that would fit in better with the world of LO. In this case, like Helios, she's not riding around in a chariot, but is the moon itself who comes out after Nyx has brought about the night.

I hope that answers your question! <3 And definitely hang tight for that Nyx design in the future ;3

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore rekindled ama

90 notes · View notes

ottiethetrashqueen · 3 months

Text

COLLAB WITH @that-unspeaking-sky-child 😁😁

They're on a date 🌹🌹

Our parts:

Mine: MJ, lineart, background shading

Callie's: El Cool P, overall colors

Thank you for collaborating with me and for the kind words. It made me melt and feel like jelly on the sun 😭😭 ur so sweet damn (also literally the fastest collab I ever had)

#incredibox #incredibox fanart #incredibox wekiddy #art collab #sillies

73 notes · View notes

judilyart · 4 months

Note

Can you make a post about how you choose colors plz ? I'm really curious about your process

this is such a difficult question to answer bc really the way i approach colors is mostly reliant on what I find interesting and I do struggle with them, but i'll try my best to answer!

before I even start working on my piece, I like to gather a bunch of refs and think about the vibe I want to achieve since colors and values change the piece drastically. personally, I like to play around with purple a lot so usually I start with a light purple for the undertone/sky background color and I find that it helps a lot to work above that rather than the white of the canvas, it also helps me bring purple back into the shadows! I think my "secret" to why my paintings are so colorful is that I start by blocking in as many colors/shapes as I can using a brush with the color dynamics setting on, I find that it creates a good base fast without having to manually pick every single hue by hand. It's also important to try many different palettes and not be scared of scrapping something and repainting from scratch bc that's how you're able to tell what works and what doesn't! it also creates many ugly stages lol but here's a few screenshots from my process video of Under The Peach Tree as an example of how many times I repainted it

I like to keep in mind what the highlight color will be, for example in this painting I went for a skintone that's closer to the colors of the peaches and the little blanket bc that will tie everything together and make the character feel like they belong in the environment. it's similar in other cases too, for example if the grass is more cool toned then I'd go for some red pink flowers. there's a tool in photoshop that's called selective color which I use a lot as well as curves or color balance, they're all used to adjust the colors that you already have like if I feel that the yellow is not quite right then I try to change it up through those tools and see what's better. it's really a lot of trial and error and just trying things out and seeing what you end up liking, it also ofc comes with practice and learning compositional values.

I hope this helps 💗 I do upload my process on my patreon, and I've been planning a video specifically on how I paint skin since it's an interesting topic!

#it's a long post but if you have more questions i'd be happy to help!#thank you <3

79 notes · View notes

moonymelly · 2 months

Text

Uhm…hello, friends!!

Uh, yeah…I’m still sick. Which sucks. BUT!! This morning, I was like:

“Ok, dude, you GOTTA make something Biggerler related. ITS BEEN WEEKS AND YOUR BOY AND YOUR FANS NEED YOU!!”

So….I had a lil idea. Now I’m no writer, but I just HAD to make this. I wanted to make something that would just be super cool and also give a bit more personality to mah boi. coughcoughbeforetheloraxcrashedtheparty. SO!!

Without further ado…here’s a lil something I wrote….

- The Calm Before the Storm -

……

“….mnnmhmm….”

His tired eyes slowly fluttered open, his blurry vision immediately met with the roof of his canopy bed, the intricate gold details against the deep green background glittering from the light that came through the room.

What time is it?

Looking over at his clock with squinted eyes, it read somewhere around 8:30. As usual.

Well…there wasn’t a moment to waste. Today was the day of the ball, after all. Everything needed to be perfect.

Rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his soft black hair, he parted the curtains of his bed, stepping up and away from it. He grabbed his cup of chamomile tea from the night before and sipped it as he made his way to his balcony.

Tsk. Cold tea.

He pulled back the tall green, velvety curtains for the every-morning-outside-viewing-time. His face was a twisted expression of disgust and irritation. Why he did this to himself, even he would never know.

But alas, he did it anyways. Gazed out from his balcony at the crude place that was “the valley.” The sky, though morning, was swirled with those familiar dark purple, smoggy clouds, the hills inhabiting almost the same color. And the grass was…well…there…

….not completely alive, though.

He stared. Just stared with a blank face at all of it. Not too far away was Thneedville, and a smidgen of a small smile crossed his otherwise straight face. If there was one thing he was proud of, it was Thneedville.

His town. What he did for everyone.

What everyone should be grateful for.

He stood there, cold tea in hand, lost in thought, the cold breeze of the outside atmosphere brushing his hair softly into his eyes, the bitter smell of smog tickling his nose, but it didn’t matter.

He just…stayed there.

……….

….BANG!!

The Onceler nearly leapt out of his feet from the loud noise that attacked his ears, causing him to yelp very unprofessionally.

He swirled around, his face a furious scowl as his cold tea was splashed across his jade green silk pajamas. Who dared enter his room at an hour like this, and how so loudly?!

Who dared see him without his suit, so casually, with his unbrushed hair and now wet pajamas?!

WHO DARED TO—?!

“…A-Agh!! I’m so sorry sir!! Here, I’ll leave right away—!!”

The Onceler’s scowl slowly softened with realization, his posture straightening with a small sigh. He held up his hand, shaking his head. “No, no, Viktor. You don’t have to leave.”

Of course it was Viktor. There stood the poor man, a tray of food in his shaky hands, his face so deeply apologetic that The Onceler couldn’t help but have a soft spot for him.

He knew, after all, how it felt to be in a position such as Viktor’s. Always trying oh so desperately to have the…the approval of someone.

Viktor adjusted his rectangular glasses with a curious look on his face, his other hand clutching onto the food tray for dear life.

“Uhm…you’re sure, sir? I-I can really just leave, if you need me to—“

“No, no, it’s fine. Just…you can leave the tray on my table, over there.”

The Onceler pointed tiredly over at his small table nearby his fireplace, surrounded by the red sofas where he liked to sit sometimes with his smoking jacket, cigar in hand.

Viktor did a double take when he saw that The Onceler had accidentally splashed himself on his pajamas and winced. His boss really liked those pajamas. He was sure that if Viktor had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have been let off the hook so easily.

He trotted over to The Onceler’s fireplace and saw an unfinished glass of red wine set on the table as well. Pointing to it, he called out to his boss, who was once again standing regally as he looked out to the valley.

“Sir, would you like me to take this away for you?”

The Onceler turned around again to see what Viktor was referring to, and he didn’t answer right away, just looking at the glass as he contemplated yes or no.

“…Mmmm. I suppose.”

With that, he turned away again.

Viktor gave his boss a soft, knowing look. After being under his wing for five years, he knew what to expect. Even though he was his secretary, he was really mostly his personal assistant, the man The Onceler knew he could trust.

And Viktor never took that for granted.

As Viktor took the glass from the table and set the food tray down, The Onceler started trotting away from the balcony, unexpectedly. Viktor rose a brow, standing up straight as he watched his boss walk to his closet.

Well…more like a grand closet, for crying out loud. It was like a whole other room!!

“Sir!” Viktor half-shouted, practically speed walking over to where his boss now stood. “Can I help you with anything else?”

The Onceler gave Viktor a brief look, then shook his head. “No, but thank you. I just figured since I already dirtied my pajamas I might as well get into my suit.”

Viktor winced again, feeling bad about the pajamas. The Onceler scanned through his array of suits, other business-casual clothes, and smoking jackets. It was easy for a lot of people to forget that he was only twenty-five years old, especially when he acted so much older and sophisticated than that.

…Viktor sometimes wondered if The Onceler…always acted this way. Even in private. Even before all of this.

His lingering thoughts were interrupted by The Onceler staring at him with a tired look, one of his suits in hand. The suit he’d been wearing more often lately, the dark green one with the little intricate details on the lapels.

Viktor started to get nervous again. Why was The Onceler looking at him like that?! Did he need anything?! If he needed something he should know that all he needed to do was just say the words and—!!

“Viktor. I need to change, please.”

Viktor’s running thoughts were interrupted like a popping bubble when he realized….he was still in the closet with his boss. Aaaand…he needed to not be in there.

“…My apologies, sir!!” With that, he rushed out of the closet, fidgeting with his thumbs. As his boss changed, he ran over how the day needed to be, and that was perfect. He knew how much time and thought The Onceler was putting into this ball, and he knew how much it meant to him that everyone who came would be entertained and satisfied.

With a click of the closets door, The Onceler stepped out, his suit already fastened on neatly and his hair already somehow perfectly brushed. How The Onceler’s hair was always so perfect…Viktor and many people longed to know.

The Onceler walking with Viktor by his side, he stooped down to pick up his top hat and glasses from a nearby stand. As he placed them on, his confident and ready demeanor could make even the most frivolous of accessories appear regal.

The two exited his bedroom and made their way into the long hallways of the top floor of the factory, the tall walls lavished with paintings and gold stripes on the dark green walls that looked the same as the ones on The Onceler’s most iconic suit. The two walked through the dim lit red lamps and to the golden, intricate elevator.

Viktor pushed the button for the ballroom floor, and he instantly started chattering, reading off his papers as The Onceler listened intently.

“We have a lot to do, Sir, as you already know. A lot of us already have the decorations up and ready, but the kitchen needs to prep the food, refreshments, and desserts. The main thing, of course, is that we need your approval to make sure everything is in check.”

As Viktor looked up at his tall boss to read his expression, he could see a raised brow and a small smile, which wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Viktor,” The Onceler started, “That doesn’t sound like too much. In fact, it sounds like you all have done a great job preparing for this.”

Viktor was surprised, and even touched. “Well…thank you, Sir. …But we still should have you look over everything!!”

The Onceler looked straight ahead again, shaking his head lightly and chuckling. “Alright, Viktor.”

- At The Ballroom Floor -

Employees were working away like busy bees, draping more decorations up on the overly-tall walls. (Some would complain too tall, but what did it matter?) The people working at this factory knew they were lucky they had such an important job, being able to work for THE Onceler himself.

So, when THE Onceler himself was walked in, everyone just worked themselves even harder and quicker.

The Onceler scanned the room with a straight face, his eyes barely visible beneath those shades he wore. Every now and then an employee would walk by and greet him, he’d give them a light smile. But then he’d just revert back to that look, that look he made when he didn’t want people to know what he was thinking.

He watched as Viktor went off to be with the other employees, chattering to them as he hurriedly checked off the dozens of boxes on his clipboard. But The Onceler’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, thickly southern voice.

“Oncie!!~”

His eyes widening and back straightening even more than before, he turned around to see his mother stepping out from the elevator behind him, a big grin on her glossed lips. She wore one of her dozens of outfits, this one a sparkly blue skirt that matched both her son’s shades and her own glasses. Her top was a white collared shirt with a navy bow, her bow in her hair matching perfectly.

She clacked her high heels over to her son, but even then still needed to tippy-toe to drag his face down to hers and pepper his cheek with kisses. “Good morning, Oncie~!!” She made those ‘mwah-mwah-mwah’ noises as she kissed him and The Onceler could feel his cheeks instantly rise up with heat as he was seen by dozens of his employees, all looking at him either with surprise or little smiles on their faces, giggling.

The Onceler tugged a bit away from her and she finally let go, grinning all the while. “I see you’ve already made yourself busy, bein’ down here, hm?” She asked, looking around at everyone setting up.

The Onceler wiped away her lipgloss from his cheek and nodded with a forced smile, still embarrassed and slightly irritated from being seen so unprofessionally. Yes, while he was a fun guy in public and on the news, it was because he allowed that, it was an endearing fun for all adoring people to fawn over.

Not just…getting kiss attacked by his mother…

Straightening his suit, he nodded. “That’s right, ma. Tonight is going to be the night. Why, the event of the summer, I would say!”

His mother smiled and gave his cheek a pinch. “That’s my boy.” The two were interrupted by a female worker politely holding up a tray of confections. It appeared to be chocolate truffles of some kind, swirled with a deep purple color.

“Would you two like to try, Mr. Onceler?”

The Onceler gave her a nod and he and his mother each popped one in their mouths. It was absolutely decadent, the taste of dark chocolate coating his tongue along with a flavor he hadn’t had in such a long time.

…Truffula Fruit.

His mind drifting to thoughts he didn’t want to think, he cleared his throat, and gave her the nod of approval. “It’s delicious, please place them on the table over the—“

He was cut off by his mother chuckling, giving the other woman a crude pat on the back. “Oh, dearie!! You think this is gonna cut it?! Where’s the glamour?? This is the event of the summer, y’know?”

The woman looked absolutely mortified that she would displease anyone of The Onceler’s family. Isabella leaned into her ear with a sly smile and whispered. “You gotta add gold to it, hun. Go on. Sprinkle some gold on it.” Isabella leaned back and made a ‘shoo-shoo!’ motion with her gloved hand, grinning coyly.

The woman nodded her head rapidly, shakily keeping the chocolates in her tray from clattering to the ground. “Y-Yes, Ms. Isabella!! Right away!!” With that, she scurried back to the kitchen, the other employees quietly looking at her with wide eyes or pity.

The Onceler watched her walk away with that same unreadable look on his face. Did he feel sorry for her? Did he not care? No one would be able to tell. Isabella smiled up on him, squeezing his cheek again.

“Ya can’t let people get away with things, hun!! Can’t let people make us look bad, no?”

The Onceler looked down at his mother and quietly shook his head. “No.”

His mother was right, after all. This ball was meant to be a display of how perfect The Onceler and his family was, to show certain people that they were wrong. That nothing that The Onceler was doing was wrong in any way.

He was helping everyone, after all!! Giving people jobs, housing them, making them Thneeds, heck, a reason to be so darn happy!! Right?

But as he looks out to the valley every morning, is he really making…everyone? Happy?

………..

It didn’t matter. Because he was happy. And if he was happy, then everyone should be.

………..

….He did like the chocolate, though. The way it had been.

#smiles #grins even #the onceler #the onceler fanfic #biggerler #biggerler fanfic #ask the biggering onceler #the onceler fandom #onceler askblog #the lorax #moonmel #moonymelly #my art #viktorhowl

44 notes · View notes

skellymom · 7 months

Text

"Sunset Over Pabu"

Hunter X OC/Reader One Shot

Word Count: 910

Background: An "Old Love" relationship. Nostalgia. Saying Goodbye. Using planet and star interchangeably. The celestial body in this fic is a Moon, similar to our planet Mars it reflects light so the appearance is a shining star.

The inspiration for this story came from @lightspringrain artwork. Including the link to her Etsy shop and image of "Hunter's Moon"

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1556715876/star-wars-the-bad-batch-omega-or-hunter?ref=yr_purchases

There are parallels to the first time Mad met Hunter in this fic. To read how they met, here is the link:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/738467105361494016/vagabonds?source=share

Warning: Sadness.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

They snuggled close on that settee just as they did the first night meeting on Ord Mantell. In between trips off world, children, weddings, funerals, holidays, and all manner of life Hunter and Mad carved out while on Pabu to watch the sunset together. Approximately 10 standard cycles of building a bonfire on the beach and cuddling up together to watch the sky turn deep shades of crimson, purple, and eventually black. Gazing at the stars as they cycled by with the seasons in the night sky.

The broken settee was resurrected by Hunter’s own hands when they first settled. He built it strong enough for two. A solid foundation so it would never break again. Mad helped weatherproof it to withstand the ocean salt. Together, they performed maintenance when needed, so it would last for many years. A continuing project and labor of love.

In addition, a firepit was constructed to hold the burning heat kept within. Hunter and Mad collected stones on their travels around the galaxy. Bringing back chunks of memories to line into a continuing never-ending circle. Occasionally family and friends would add their own additions when returning to Pabu. Wrecker kept his eye out for oddly shaped or colored rocks while fishing and would surprise them with a new addition already stacked against the ring.

Tonight, Hunter had a bit of difficulty making his way down the stone steps to the beach. Mad took his hand, providing support. His long hair and beard had gotten greyer the last few months. She joked that he was almost as silver as her. The wrinkles and laugh-lines accumulated since being together, a happy long life for a clone prominent on his face. He smiled as she fussed about him being careful not to slip.

“Taking good care of me.”

“Of course, what else would I do.”

She winked, and he chuckled.

He told Mad tonight he’d forego their usual “Spotchka under the stars” and just do “The Stars” for tonight. The alcohol was wearing heavily on his system, making for extremely tiring mornings after...even with him cutting back considerably.

In the last few months, Hunter and Mad watched a vibrant moon make its transit across the heavens. It stood out amongst the other stars. Burning a brilliant red flicker that could be easily seen even though it was millions of light years away. The bright red star reached the zenith of its orbit and total brilliance tonight per Tech’s calculations.

“There’s YOUR moon, Hunky!” Mad pointed up above.

There was a number for this moon at one point. With millions of celestial bodies orbiting the galaxy, only numbers were given to keep track of them all. That wasn't good enough for Omega though. She named it “Hunter’s Moon” rotations ago before leaving on her own journey with Echo and Crosshair.

“Shame it’s the last night we’ll see it on Pabu.” Hunter mused.

Mad sighed. “Didn’t Tech say something about it being visible somewhere else?”

“Think he mentioned another planet not far from this one...” Hunter trailed off.

“Whattsamatter Hunky?”

He looked a little guilty “Not sure I’m up to traveling much any time soon.” He also sounded tired.

“Not in any hurry. We have a sky full of stars.”

“Mhmm, that’s my Mad... always thinking ahead.”

“It’s the wanderlust. Brain never shuts off.”

“I LOVE you, Maadienne.”

Mad smiled and squeezed his hand. “I LOVE you too, Hunky.”

They both gazed up at Hunter’s Moon.

“Make a wish, Mad!” Hunter said quietly.

They were both silent for a while. Then Hunter gently rested his head against hers.

She knew he wouldn’t come out and tell her his wish, that to tell it wouldn’t come true. Mad still liked to chide Hunter and try to playfully tease it out of him. It would end in tickling, laughter, hugs, kisses...and on less tiresome nights love making. On tiresome nights they fell asleep in each other's arms on the beach.

“Okay Hunky, spill the beans.” Mad hugged Hunter tighter. He didn’t reply.

“Hunky..?”

Mad brushed Hunter’s long locks away from his face. She gazed down at him, marveling at how the bonfire illuminated his hair, tattoo, dark skin. The face of a sleeping angel. A rhyme in time back on Ord Mantell all those years ago. The younger man who decided to buy her a drink in Cyd’s Parlor. A partner that travelled with her across the galaxy, helped care for her family, whose brothers adopted them all, and a partner that never left her side.

She caressed his face lovingly, immersing herself in the scent of his skin, hair, and...

...breath...?

Hunter’s chest had stilled. An expected, but heavy weight resting against her body, a bit heavier than his usual bodily presence.

“Oh...Hunter...Hun...” Mad suddenly hitched and exhaled, tears running down her face.

She knew this day would eventually come. And as the full rotations went on, she kept wishing on a certain red star that she could have another standard day with him. Every standard day she wished to have another.

But wishes only carry you so far...and there are only so many wishes granted.

And you must accept that the universe has other plans.

To believe in having just a moment of happiness instead of none.

Mad kissed Hunter’s forehead. “Aw, Hunky...we were REAL good... Weren’t we?

The red star above Pabu twinkled in reply to Mad’s words as she hugged Hunter for the last time.

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

97 notes · View notes

cinebration · 1 year

Text

5 Times Cyclone (Barely) Kept His Cool (& 1 Time He Didn’t) (Cyclone x Reader) [One-shot]

Disclaimer: I know nothing about how the Navy and Air Force work.

I had originally planned an entirely different multipart fic, but my brain won't let me write.

Tagged: @crispysublimecupcake, @failure-of-a-student, @abaker74, @green-parx, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @deanscroissant, @b-bradshaw, @alldaysdreamer, @bat-luna-cat, @auntiegigi, @another-bookwyrm, @littlewhiterose, @lucy-sky

Warnings: none

Gif Source: garethamm

Beau “Cyclone” Simpson rarely frequented the bar, not merely because he didn’t much care for the atmosphere but because he felt it necessary to remain distant and aloof from his subordinates—even ones that were just names on paper to him.

After the success of Maverick and his team in destroying the unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant, however, Cyclone found himself alongside Warlock in the bar, watching the TOPGUN pilots toast their triumph. Music thumped a steady beat in the background as the chatter, laughter, and cheers swelled in rolling waves through the enclosed space. Sweat trickled down the back of Cyclone’s neck as the heat of the room pressed down on him.

He tried to let his professional façade relax a fraction. He was just as elated as the flyboys at the success of the mission—more so, considering he had known the full ramifications of the crisis should they have failed. His relief was as palpable as the strength of the relieved expression on Warlock’s face.

Sipping his beer, he scanned the room, lips bearing the faint ghost of a smile as he noted the euphoric faces of his subordinates. Beyond the core group clustered around the pool table, several pilots sat or stood in scattered groups, elbowing each other and laughing, beers in hand.

Beyond them, in the far corner beside one of the windows overlooking the beach, you sat at a table, a half-filled glass in front of you. One foot propped up on the chair across from you, aviators hanging from the collar of your blouse, dark jeans, and ankle boots the same color of brown as your faux leather jacket, you had the same easy confidence tinged with a hint of arrogance as Maverick, of all people.

Cyclone stared.

“Cyclone? Beau?”

Cyclone’s attention snapped to Warlock. “What?”

“Are you really so incapable of enjoying yourself?”

He frowned. “What?”

“You really weren’t listening.” Warlock shook his head. “We’re here to relax and enjoy the win.”

“There are too many other things to win,” Cyclone countered. “This is just one.”

He glanced at your table.

Your seat was empty.

Cyclone straightened in his seat, scanned the room. The flyboys blocked his view, flaring his irritation as he strained to see past them.

Nothing.

Cyclone ground his teeth in disappointment.

“What’s the matter?”

He shook his head, biting back the retort surging through him: You let her get away. Again.

“Nothing,” he muttered. He sucked on his beer, the taste of it flat on his tongue. “Nothing at all.”

A week and a half later when Cyclone had finally succeeded in pushing away the frustration and disappointment, he sat in a war room across from his counterpart in the Air Force, a man he begrudgingly respected not so much for his track record as for his personality. The man had managed to rise with a stellar career through the Air Force without turning into a total asshole.

Seated at the head of the table, the Secretary of Defense, a retired general of significant pedigree, intoned in a deep, buttery voice, “The mission requires a joint operation between the Air Force and the Navy. The Commander-in-Chief is demanding that it be done quickly and with such precision that it would make a neurosurgeon eat his shirt.”

General Charles Mcloughlin chuffed a quiet laugh. “The neurosurgeons I know would never.”

Unamused, SECDEV continued, “This mission is top priority. I don’t need to remind you that we need top-level talent and genius thinking to get this done. So do it.”

With that, the man left the room, his aide scurrying after him like a remora trying to keep up with a shark. Cyclone turned to Mcloughlin, who returned his hard stare with a heavy calm, unaffected gaze.

“I take it you heard about this beforehand,” Cyclone noted, inclining his head at the folder in front of the other man. “You already have a plan?”

“A semblance of one,” Mcloughlin demurred. “I already have two pilots selected from our end, the real crème-de-la-crème of the entire Force.”

Cyclone sighed. “But?”

“We need to use F-22s.”

Raking a hand over his face, Cyclone leaned forward, forearms digging hard into the table. “F-22s can’t land on aircraft carriers.”

“No, but the carriers can launch support for one.”

“Why would an F-22 need support from anything? No other aircraft matches it.”

“Because we’re going to crash it.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

Mcloughlin shook his head. “They’re being phased out by the F-35s. This mission requires us to complete the objective and then make it look like our aircraft can’t handle it anymore.”

“And you want my men to, what? Take enemy fire to make your crash look good?”

“Something like that.”

This job is going to give me an ulcer. The muscle in his jaw jumping, Cyclone stretched out a hand. Mcloughlin placed the folder in his palm. Leaning back in his chair, Cyclone flipped it open.

Your eyes stared at him from the first page. The ghost of a smirk played on your lips, the lens flare in your eyes a mischievous glimmer.

Cyclone swallowed thickly, his heart flinging itself against his ribs. Carefully, he flipped past your dossier, spent as many seconds on the second one as he had on yours.

He snapped the folder shut.

“When do I meet them?”

Cyclone’s general dislike for the Air Force stemmed from a well-hidden jealousy. He had always wanted to get his hands on an F-22 Raptor, but the Navy didn’t use it. Even in his flyboy days, he hadn’t even been able to share the same airspace as one. He had never seen one in person, grounded or airborne.

Standing in a hanger on the Pearl Harbor-Hickam base in Hawai’i, Cyclone could barely contain his excitement and awe as he took in the F-22 Raptor standing but a few yards away. It took all of his control to keep his expression an impassive, unimpressed mask, even with only the general and Warlock in the hanger with him.

“Couldn’t bother to do this back on our home turf,” Warlock muttered to him, shaking his head as he stared up at the fighter. “No, they want to rub it in our faces.”

Cyclone made a noncommittal noise in his throat, then added, “Our pilots could use the humbling.”

“Nevertheless.” Warlock shook his head again.

Mcloughlin stood behind a small podium they had set up off to the side, a number of seats arrayed before it. The TOPGUN pilots and the two Air Force ones were yet to arrive to fill them. With each passing minute, Cyclone felt his heartrate kick up another notch. He ascribed it to the proximity of the stealth aircraft he had once dreamed of being close enough to touch.

It wasn’t until the soft tread of several booted feet scuffed over the cement floor that the blood roared through his ears. Woodenly, he turned to face the assembled pilots taking their seats. Despite their newfound friendship, Rooster sat in the row behind Hangman with Phoenix and Bob, the latter two taking surreptitious glances at the two Air Force pilots. Fanboy and Payback were the least discrete, staring both at the F-22 and the Air Force pilots in turn.

You sat at the back, dressed in a flight suit not dissimilar to the ones the TOPGUN pilots used. The two bars signifying your rank as a captain gleamed sharply in the light streaming through the open hanger doors.

You met Cyclone’s stare. One eyebrow rose up your forehead.

Hands clasped behind his back, Cyclone fought to keep his eyes ahead as Mcloughlin outlined the mission to the pilots. Your stare was magnetic, the pull of it almost irresistible.

By the time he stepped up to the podium, his wrist ached from squeezing it so tightly.

“This mission is a joint Navy and Air Force mission,” he reiterated, his throat straining not to give his nerves away. “That means General Mcloughlin and I retain the same authority.”

Sweat collected beneath the collar of his uniform. He glanced at the Air Force pilot leading the F-22 mission, a Daniel Hummel.

Your stare burned fire through him from the back of the room.

“If you don’t play nice with my men, if you are insubordinate in any way, you are off the mission. The general won’t listen to any appeal.”

His gaze shifted to his own men and women, careful not to pass over you.

“The same holds true for you.” He made a point of looking at Hangman. “There is no inter-branch rivalry here. We’re all on the same mission, which means you have to trust each other. If you don’t play nice, if you are insubordinate in any way, you are off the mission.”

His hands gripped the edges of the podium hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.

“Is that understood??”

A chorus of “yessirs” filled the room.

“Dismissed.”

He risked a glance in your direction as you stood to file out with the others. The ache in his hands hardly matched the one in his chest when you didn’t look back.

Rage burned in Cyclone’s veins. It would be one of his own men that instigated the fight during training for a mission crucial not only to the objective but to strengthening Navy-Air Force relations.

He could already hear the Air Force brass whispering up the ladder about the lack of discipline in the Naval Air Forces.

Nerves buzzing, he felt like pacing and screaming at the two troublemakers standing in his office. Instead, he sat rigidly behind his desk, a glower on his face as he stared at Hangman and Rooster. Both men barely met his eye, their postures just as rigid, hands clenched behind their backs.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, the steel in his voice dangerous.

“Nothing, sir,” Rooster answered.

“We were being challenged, sir,” Hangman answered.

Cyclone clenched his teeth. “Did I or did I not say to play nice?”

“Yessir,” the men agreed in unison.

“Then why is Captain Hummel in the hospital?”

“Airmen are made of weaker stuff,” Hangman quipped.

Cyclone’s jaw audibly popped. The faint smirk on Hangman’s face evaporated.

“Thanks to you, the primary on this mission can no longer serve on the mission. We don’t have the time to train another pilot to act as this mission’s secondary, so you both are relieved of duty. I can’t risk you injuring the other pilot. Dismissed.”

Both men shouted “sir, yessir” and filed out of the room so stiffly they threatened to snap their spines. Cyclone passed a hand over his face, releasing an explosive sigh when the door swung shut. His stomach spasmed as he thought of you taking Hummel’s place on the mission. The mission was dangerous as it already was, given the enemy aircraft that were likely to be encountered, but to deliberately trash a fighter in the middle of potential dogfighting another layer of suicidal to an already insane mission.

He hadn’t even spoken to you directly yet. The opportunity hadn’t yet arrived.

There’s no point, he thought to himself. You aren’t built for…anything but this job. It is your only mistress.

His nails dug into his palms.

Now he might never have the chance to find out otherwise.

Chaos reigned on the aircraft carrier. The last of the F-18s had yet to land, instead doing circles above the aircraft. The enemy fighters had disengaged when the carrier had come into view, but not before launching a missile that hadn’t been intercepted.

It hit your win, as you rolled, sending you into an out-of-control spiral. Your engines clipped the edge of the aircraft carrier, a quarter-of-a-mile off your intended target.

The crash had been real, taking a section of the landing strip with it.

The urge to vomit overwhelmed Cyclone. Breathing shallowly through his nose, he waited. He waited an eternity for the final F-18 to touch down, Phoenix and Bob climbing out of the cockpit with unsteady legs. He waited an eternity for the rescue team to launch out after you, your parachute a clear beacon on the choppy water.

He waited an eternity for you to be brought onboard. Another eternity for the medics to flock to your side, surrounding you like vultures around carrion.

His stomach dropped when the chopper lifted off, carrying you to the nearest base for emergency medical assistance.

He slumped in the chair of his tiny office onboard the carrier. Numb, he reached for the phone already connected to General Mcloughlin’s line.

The general answered immediately.

“I heard,” he said.

The silence felt like a vacuum sucking out Cyclone’s breath.

“You ever bring a mission like this to my table again,” he hissed, “I will make you eat the proposal.”

He slammed the phone back in its cradle. Stared at it.

Picked it up again and slammed, slammed, slammed it against the desk until it shattered in his hands. A roar filled his skull.

Anything not bolted down smashed across the room, tore in his hands. The rage and despair gripped him in a dark whirlwind that violence didn’t satisfy.

He sunk back down into his chair, slid off it in a heap as its broken leg gave way.

Warlock found him sitting up against the wall, shirt unbuttoned, hair a mess.

“She’s back at Pearl Harbor,” he said simply.

“Get me there.”

When he arrived, you were out of surgery and recovering. Forced to wait half a day before he could see you, Cyclone diverted all his calls to Warlock and delegated everything else. He sat statuesque in the waiting room, consuming nothing but bitter, thick coffee that made his stomach burn.

You were awake when the nurses let him into the room. Bruises mottled your face, your broken arm in a cast.

He almost couldn’t bear to look at you.

You tilted your head to better see him. A faint smile split your cracked lips. “Did that catch your attention?”

He choked on his tongue. “What?”

“I’m glad to see I’m important.”

Cyclone gently grabbed your hand. “You were always important.”

You laughed brokenly. “Come back when I’m not hopped up on meds. We have a lot to talk about.”

He promised quietly to return the next day.

Only when you were out of eyesight did he lean against the nearest wall and thank God for your survival. He fought back tears of relief through the prayer.

#Cyclone #Cyclone x Reader #Cyclone imagine #Beau Simpson #Beau Simpson x Reader #Beau Simpson imagine #Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x Reader #Beau “Cyclone” Simpson #Beau “Cyclone” Simpson imagine #Jon Hamm x Reader #Jon Hamm #Jon Hamm imagine #Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM

399 notes · View notes