#(It's RAW!

[lieslab]

The art of being human

Summary: After being mugged and beat up in an alleyway, you just want to be left alone, but your boyfriend wiggles his way into your heart and coaxes you into letting him help you.

Pairing: Lee Know X gn reader

Genre: Angst with hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.7K

_ _ _

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled as you stumbled towards the bathroom, “I’ve got it.” 

You reentered the apartment you shared with Lee Know. His concerned dark eyes scanned your body from head to toe. So many words sat on his lips, but none of them came out. You couldn’t blame him. Nobody expected to find their significant other in this state. 

Perhaps, it was your own fault. He told you multiple times to stop taking the shady alleyway that cut through town, but you couldn’t help it. It shaved ten minutes off your normal walk to the bookstore. You went down it multiple times before without an issue, but this time was different. 

Your wrist was yanked from behind you. During dusk, the sky was overcast with remnants of citrus and cerise. The last wisps of cumulonimbus steel-blue clouds were dulling to a gray. Caught off-guard, you stumbled backwards. 

Your body was shoved and you slammed into the back of a brick walled building. Two unfamiliar men towered in front of you demanding your wallet. They stood taller than you, you should have been terrified, but you weren’t, your first reaction was instant anger. 

You had been planning to go to the bookstore for days. You specifically set aside time on this day to do it. Who did they think they were and why did they decide to mess with you? Maybe you were naive, or noble, or maybe it was just stupidity. You could have given them your wallet and let them go, but you ran your mouth instead. 

Fuming with your hands clenched into fists, you told the two men to go fuck themselves. It threw them off for a few seconds. That was never part of their rehearsed script. Your wallet was safely secured in your back jean pocket and you had no plans to take it out. 

All of your information was in your wallet. Debit card, credit card, your ID, and even photographs of you and Lee Know. It’d be a cold day in hell before you willingly gave it up. 

It was a mistake on your end. A fist swung and you blocked it, but you weren’t prepared for the second fist from the second attacker. You hit the ground and shoved your hands up. You tried to defend yourself as best as you could. 

Every tip of their sneakers sent shock waves through you when it connected with your rib cage. Every pointed knuckled, the flashy silver ring on one’s finger, containing a purple gemstone, nicked your skin, and filleted you like a fish. It was two against one and it was clear you wouldn’t be winning the fight. 

You were in the middle of the alleyway when the attack began. No matter how much you tried to call for help, the words never escaped your lips. You didn’t have a chance due to the searing pain that crept up the side of your rib cage. 

By the time they finished, they never took your wallet, but they successfully managed to smash your phone. You were grateful it was only your phone you lost. You kept everything backed up, so you weren’t worried. 

As you explained the situation to your boyfriend, his concern for you grew. Your left eye was beginning to swell. You could barely see through the small slit left behind. Without meaning to, tears leaked out of it from irritation. It ached and the skin began to turn a pinkened-red. 

Scrapes and cuts filled your arms. Your sides were littered with the beginning stages of bruised ribs. The pavement grated your delicate skin and rubbed it raw. It was a miracle you were able to get home without running into them again. 

Lee Know gently grabbed the point of your chin and tilted your face up. With the unforgiving bathroom fluorescents, he was able to see everything. With a soft swipe of his thumb, he brushed away a dollop of blood from your cut lip. 

He kept his voice low as if you were an injured child. “Let me help you clean up.” 

You pulled your face away and shook your head. “I’ll be okay, I can manage by myself.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned to the porcelain sink. 

You caught his gaze in the mirror and you swore you saw a flash of hurt, but you brushed it aside. This was your fault, not his. You went down the alley towards night and this was the consequence. You didn’t need to be babied. 

The two of you remained silent while you turned on the sink and began to gently rinse the blood off your scraped palms. You gritted your teeth and kept the pain inside. Behind you, annoyance crept up in Lee Know. 

You had been like this since he knew you. Whenever people offered you their assistance, you turned it away. He knew you grew up in a household where you often handled your emotions by yourself. Every childhood scraped knee, every bruise, every injury you figured it out by yourself. 

When you were sick, there wasn’t anyone to tuck you into bed and make you soup. There was nobody to coax medicine into your system. No matter how half-delirious from a fever you were, you were forced to handle everything by yourself. 

No mother to nurture you and no father to mend you. Maybe you were cursed from birth or maybe they never learned from their own parents. Whatever the case, it left you independent as hell. You gritted your teeth, swallowed the pain, clenched your hands into fists, and dealt with it yourself. When the world beat you down, you could only count on yourself. 

“Please let me just he-” 

“No!” You snapped. “I told you I can do it by myself.” You didn’t mean to snap, but you were far from okay. Every bent finger sent an ache up your arm. Every slight movement sent jolts of pain through your body. Every twist of your waist sent sharp stabs to your ribs. 

You were left humiliated. What did you think was going to happen when you smarted off? God, you were so stupid. You should have let them take your wallet. You could have called your banks and had the cards frozen. The photos were replaceable, but you would have had to reprint them. You could have gotten a new ID. 

“What do you think you’re going to achieve by pushing everyone away? You’re being immature and childish! You want to do it yourself and cause yourself more damage? Fine!” He stormed out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut. 

You flinched at the sound. His words were an added slap across your face. You dug your fingers into the edge of the sink and took a few shaky breaths. Tears leaked out of your uninjured eye. Why were you always like this? Pushing everyone away and then wallowing in your own self pity. When were you going to learn? 

The tears blurred your vision. You glanced up at yourself in the mirror to see the beat up version of yourself looking back at you. You always pushed Lee Know away. You pushed him away when you were sick. When he was sore from dance practice, you were the first to offer icy-hot cream for his overworked muscles. 

When he was sick or needed help, you were always there and happy to assist, but when it came to you needing him, you always pushed him away. Deep down, he struggled with it. He wanted to make you the homemade soup his mom used to make him when he was sick. When you were sick, he wanted to coddle you. He wanted to coax medicine into your system. He wanted to tuck you in, but you never let him. 

You winced, grabbed a wash rag, and placed it beneath the warm stream of sink water. You sniffled as more tears blurred your vision and gently dabbed at the scrape on your inner arm. You did this to yourself, it’s your own fault. 

Outside the door, Lee Know’s heart, like a dropped piggy-bank, shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. You were hurting, he shouldn’t have snapped at you. He knew you were like this, but it hurt him to know you were hurting so much. 

A soft sigh escaped his lips and he reopened the bathroom door. At the sound, you glanced over at him. Your uninjured teary eye made him feel like shit. He shouldn’t have added insult to your injuries. 

He stepped further inside and shut the door behind him. He walked closer to you and you were engulfed by the alluring hints of vanilla in the cologne he wore daily. Without a word, he grabbed the washcloth from your hands and began to dab at the blood on your arm. 

You didn’t utter a word and you didn’t fight back. You were too injured and too exhausted to put up a fight. The fire from a few moments ago had been muddled from your injuries. 

“You have to stop pushing people away,” Lee Know finally spoke up. “Life is full of challenges and rough parts. It can be mean, ruthless, and unforgiving. Nothing is promised in life, but you know what is always going to be there?” 

You stayed silent and watched him in the mirror. 

“People. The people that love you are always going to be there.” He moved onto your other arm. “You have to learn how to allow yourself to be vulnerable with the people who love you. I know it’s difficult, but not everyone is a bad person.” 

He rinsed the washcloth beneath another stream of warm water. Pinkened water swirled around the basin before slipping down the drain. “You’re going to have good and bad parts of life. This happened to be a bad part. Just let me care for you like you’ve done for me so many times before.” 

Your voice came out in a hushed whisper, “I don’t know how.” 

Lee Know’s warm gaze found your eyes. Your heart fluttered in your chest. You never felt safer with anyone else than you ever did with him. 

“I’m afraid you’ll leave,” you got out. You finally said it. The truth you were hiding for so long; the source of anxiety that gnawed on you for months. “I’m afraid I’ll get too comfortable and you’ll go. I don’t want to start relying on people and end up alone and hurt.” 

Lee Know put down the rag and gently pulled you to him. Pain coursed through your body, but you ignored it. His strong arms wrapped around your body and held you tight. You buried your head in his chest. 

He didn’t care if your blood stained his clothes. His clothes were replaceable, but your vulnerability was not. You never opened up to him like this before. This was a first for you. 

“I know it’s hard, but when you push the people away that love you, you’re hurting them even if you don’t mean to. Some of us want to be there for you. We want to take care of you and we want you to be happy.” 

“As for me, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be by your side no matter what.” 

“But what if you die?” You blurted out. 

“Why are you thinking of me dying? If you keep thinking like that, you’re going to make yourself sick with worry. Focus on what’s in front of you right now. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. Please just let me care for you.” 

You ignored the pain in your ribs and wrapped your arms around him. He carefully laid his chin on the top of your head. You sniffled and clutched onto him tighter. 

He was right. If you kept focusing on the what-if’s, you’d lose sight of what you had in front of you. Deep down, you wanted to be taken care of. You wanted to be nurtured and there was nothing wrong with that. 

For hundreds of years, humans lived in communities and tribes. We’ve fixed each other up time and time again. Mended broken bones, wiped away blood, stitched up gaping wounds. We’ve dug out bullets and bee stings. 

We’ve held the hand of new mothers as they’ve brought life into the world and murmured encouragement. We’ve clutched the hands of the dying as they drifted away to the other side and spoke prayers to gods whose existence we sometimes ponder. To place your well-being in the hands of others, it didn’t make you weak, it made you human. 

After a while, you pulled away and nodded. You let yourself be dabbed and wiped. You let Lee Know peel off your blood stained clothes to reveal your hidden injuries. You let yourself be vulnerable for the first time in your life. 

His love for you never had to be spoken, you could feel it in his actions. The way he helped lower your naked body into the bottom of the tub, so he could wash the blood off you with a light stream of water. The way he steadily gripped your wrists, not your scraped palms, to help you to your feet. The gentle patting of the soft cotton towel. 

He helped you into one of your favorite oversized shirts. You didn’t complain as he led you to the kitchen. Too exhausted to talk, he told you about his day. You sat idly in a wooden chair at the kitchen table. 

He chopped vegetables and diced chicken. The blobbering of a meaty broth bumbled from a large pot. While he was busy creating you a comfort meal, his cats joined the conversation. With a silent pounce, all three of them lined the top of the kitchen table around you. 

You knew he’d be annoyed, so you stayed quiet as you pet them. Under no circumstance were Soonie, Doongie, and Dori allowed on the kitchen table. Usually, they followed that rule without disobedience, but they must have realized you were in pain. 

You scratched the tops of their heads with the soft pads of your fingers. Doongie walked over to you, placed his paws on your chest, and gently rubbed his head across your cheek. They were only given away by your giggle. 

Lee Know turned around and he was about to say something until he saw your smile. He closed his mouth and his lips turned into a smile of his own. He was happy the three of them were providing you with comfort. 

As if Dori knew they were doing something wrong, the black and brown striped cat’s eyes met Lee Knows. He shook his head with amusement. “Don’t get used to this, this is a one night only event.” 

Soonie meowed and walked over to the edge of the table. Lee Know sighed and walked over to him. He began to scratch him beneath his chin. “You’re all so lucky I love you.” 

As the two of you took turns giving the cats attention, the smell of chicken noodle soup filled the air. Lee Know added in the noodles and let them cook. Eventually, he removed the cats from the table and wiped it down with a disinfectant wipe. 

He placed a steaming bowl in front of you. You mumbled a quiet thank you and he sat down beside you with his own bowl. The two of you ate in silence. The soup provided comfort and filled your aching body with warmth. 

“Thank you for letting me take care of you,” Lee Know finally spoke. 

“I should be the one apologizing to you. I shouldn’t have pushed you away for so long.” You frowned at the memory of your earlier behavior. 

“You’re learning, that’s all that matters. Let me know if you want more soup, I’ll get you some, alright?” He glanced over at you with admiration in his eyes. 

You nodded and slurped down another spoonful of chicken broth. The comfortable feeling of contentment began to filter through you. It felt nice to be taken care of. It was something you never felt before up until this point. Although it was new and terrifying, you couldn’t deny the happiness that fluttered through you.

“Does this mean you’re going to avoid that alleyway?” Lee Know asked with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. 

Even with your aching body, you managed to roll your own eyes. “Shut up,” you grumbled. 

He let out a laugh before he leaned over and placed a loving kiss against the side of your uninjured cheek. 

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

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Requests are open.

[morallyinept]

Su Favorita - A Javier Peña One Shot

Summary: You're the only hooker in Bogotá that Javier Peña seeks after a clusterfuck of a day at work trying - and failing - to capture a lead that will steer him to the successful arrest of Escobar. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.” 

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers/Warnings: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/rough/swearing/mild dirty talk/mention of a gun/Javi gets a little rough and pulls you about - you want it.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.  

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Javi's infamous pink shirt inspired this filth and I'm not sorry.

Enjoy! 🖤

MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

His breath is a raw nettle in the back of his oesophagus. Rich tricolours that flap in the breeze are muted into a blur as he spins on his heels, blood thudding in his ears.

He's scanning the panicked faces that orb him as he lowers his Beretta to the ground, aware of the frantic calamity he’s now caused.

Fuck!

He fucking lost him; dropped the ball when he stumbled, and the maldito bastardo got away.

Javier scans the mass of wary bodies surrounding him, two-stepping about with hysterical caution as he loses his composure. Spanish expletives churn from his snarled teeth, offending those closest in ear shot.

Hijo de puta! (Motherfucker!)

The air was heavy with tension, and the sweltering heat seemed to conspire against him, slowing his pursuit. But Peña had pressed on, ignoring the discomfort in his twisted ankle from the fall, as he navigated through the disrupted masses; his eyes never leaving his target.

The locals, aware of the DEA’s reputation, festering in their provinces like cockroaches, hastily moved out of the way; fear flickering in their eyes as he gave chase to the assailant with his firearm brandished like it was his cock.

But it was fruitless as the pain was too much; he'd slowed his pace and he lost the scumbag out of his clutches.

And now he's here, floundering in the public square. 

Fuck! FUCK!

The pink shirt is soaked through with sweat; a large, cerise patch on his back sticking to him like a disgusting second skin he can’t peel off. The sun is merciless and running across half of Bogotá under it probably isn’t wise. He’s saturated everywhere, serving only to vexate him further.

The pungent smell of exhaust mixed with the spicy aroma of street food, creating an atmosphere of chaotic intensity, drowns him in the cesspool of sweat that is gluey.

He wipes at his face, tasting salt on his lips and feeling it bead in his eyelashes and moustache alike. 

His colleague approaches, mirroring the look of yet another sorry defeat back at him. Javier pats his shoulder anyway; the kid did well. Even if they’re pushed ten steps back again. 

A large palm placed on his gut where a stitch takes root, he catches his breath. His lower back aching solidly in places from the stumble down the concrete step he took while he bounded like a rottweiler unleashed after the only solid lead they’d gotten in a while.

He knows he’s getting too old for this cat and mouse shit out on the field; not as fit as he used to be to give lengthy chases after slimy muchachos (boys) half his age, but the son of a bitch is as stubborn as Escobar himself.

Despite the aches, the purple bruising petals that’ll unfurl on his tan skin later, he’ll carry on. He has to; an unspoken oath that he won’t rest until Pablo is rotting behind bars.  

Javier almost had him, almost.

He squeezes the chrome, pearl polished gun in his fist, trying to crush it, before tucking it away against his back in his denim waistband and out of sight to calm the vox-populi that have gathered to witness yet another mid-afternoon commotion on their turf between the Narcos and the DEA.

A war raging on that seems as unrelenting as the thick summer climate swamping over the country. 

His shirt - the half not crammed into the front of his tightly fitting jeans - flaps around sending a welcome breeze up onto his torso, even if it is warm. He scans the roads once more in all directions as his team gather; looking for faces that are taunting him, but they’re long gone. And Javier’s done.

Another fuck leaves his lips.

The drive back gives him a chance to reflect on where it all went downhill. His eyes are shielded by yellow aviators as he squints through glare of the harsh Colombian sun from the bonnet bouncing back into his face as he rides shotgun in the armoured cruiser with his tail between his legs.

His team spar verbally around him about tactics, dissect missed opportunities and Javier doesn’t want to hear anymore bickering about who missed their shot.

They all fucking did. 

The pressure is wrought hard on his shoulders; the flimsy explanations he’ll have to peddle, and the extra chances he'll have to persuade his seniors to give him, even though he knows they are sparse as they are costly these days. The hierarchy at the DEA are going to be pissed at him.

It’s times like these when he misses having Murphy around for some allyship. 

Sinking tequila’s later at the bar doesn’t help his mood much either. The buzz fails to cut into his nagging headache as he rubs his temples listlessly. He’s slumped forward on the bar top, his third cigarette on the go rolling between his fingers, whilst he mulls over his next move. 

The humidity is thick even at this late hour, and Javier’s too wired to process any more coherent thoughts or contemplate the futility of sleep.

So he goes to the only place he knows he can to blow off some much needed steam. 

He tosses a few crumpled bills, moist with sweat, on the bar top and slinks out the door into the opaque heat of the Colombian night. 

You’re in your silk nightie when he knocks on your door at an ungodly hour. The black one, with the slit and the lace band that curves around your tits as if it’s tattooed to your ample curves perfectly.

His mouth waters instantly when he sees you.

Javier’s sculpted arm rests up on the frame casually; he looks shattered, defeated and yet coy all at the same time in that way that only he can.

Tortured brown eyes lance at you that make you melt into a puddle at his feet instantly. You can smell the liquor on his breath even at arm's length. 

“Did I wake you, hermosa?” He asks with a softness to his usually clipped tone.

His eyes are forlorn around the edges where lines are taking up root in the thin skin ageing him quicker there. You liquefy when you see him standing there brazenly.

You shake your head, feeling the heated tension he always brings with him on your body already. Javier Peña could always wake you in the middle of the night and you would never mind at all. 

It hasn't been long since the last time; Javier’s musk is only just starting to fade from your sheets and body alike. You can still smell him in your hair, taste him in your sweat.

And now he’s back to pollute more of you with him. 

You step forward, reaching your hands out; your svelte fingers running around his damp, pink collar flapping open and revealing golden collarbone ridges that you long to conquer and lick.

You pull him inside on unsteady feet as he throws the door shut behind him, leaving the shitty day postulating outside. 

He rids his body of obtrusive objects; his crumpled box of cigarettes, his gun; the aviators hanging from his shirt opening, and dumps them clumsily on the table you both pass as you pelt his salty neck with hungry smooches.

You plant needy whines that bloom pink carnations out of his pores into your face and you inhale their fragrant perfume. You mewl longingly as you suck onto his skin, leaving a red mark here or there with your teeth and Javier's hiss tells you he needs more of that carnality. More of you.

But he needs to be in control.

So he takes it. 

Your back hits the wall winding you; arms are stretched above your head as he pins you and feels down your supple body. His free hand groping with intent over your breasts, sampling the fullness of them and pinching around your hips and thighs as he grunts.

He leans in and slips his acrid tongue into your mouth; his grip becomes tighter on you, desperate. 

His eyes are hungry, ravenous and almost black. His fingers skim the hem of your nightie and slip underneath, feeling out your folds that are absolutely dripping for him.

His thick fingers slip across your clit, swollen and bruising as your knees buckle when he slides back and forth over it. You gasp and shudder, whining in your intensity for him as the tingles ramp up your desire. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked for me.” Javier groans into your neck approvingly. "You know what that does to me."

He needs this. Needs this wet pussy so fucking badly.

He slips a finger up inside you, marvelling as you flutter and squeeze around him, before he adds another. The sounds of your wetness as he slides in and out are explicitly pornographic, filling his ears with heady, filthy bubbles.

You gasp again, your hands dropping to his shoulders. You hitch up your leg around his waist, pulling him in so he can delve deeper into that wet velvet between your legs.

He smirks under his 'tache as he curls his fingers, massaging against that spongy spot deep in you that makes your thighs shake and your eyes roll back into your skull like clacking marbles. 

As much as he enjoys pulling you apart - and often does for hours - he wants this, fucking needs you.

Now!

Growling, Javier lifts you up carrying you to the bedroom, throwing you down on the bed and making you squeal in delight. You look up at him through your now unkempt hair and your whole body soars at his strength, his abrupt roughness with you - his primal desperation.  

Your slick, smeared across your inner thighs, shines up at him as you lart your legs, and he emits a low growl in approval.

"Show me, baby." He encourages as you touch yourself.

The moment you opened the door and you caught the familiar, heady scents of him; worn leather and cigarettes, the flash of those cocoa eyes deep rooting inside of you, your slit began to stick together between your legs and you needed him to tear it open again.

Your cunt remembers the shape of him, and you clench in anticipation of having him inside you once more. Re-bruising those fleshy, battered walls that have barely stopped aching.

You groan as your fingers circle your clit and your thighs shake.

Javier loves the way you’re always humming before he’s even touched you. The way you lust for him with dilated eyes like you're high on the white stuff that the brazen Narcos smuggle out the country, and swollen lips that you lick and nibble on.

He loves the flush that births over your cheeks and neck. Watching you cupping your own breasts over the silk as you watch him watch you for a moment.

He savours it, just for a few seconds, before he ruins you. Appreciating the sight of the beautiful woman who craves his touch; who howls at the moon for his dick. 

He kneels up over you after unbuttoning his shirt, and sinks his tongue into your waiting hot mouth, jaw bones and teeth clashing in their sloppiness. Javier’s kiss is biting, his warmth searing; his own lust unbridled. 

He manhandles you, tearing at the silk and lace that barely covers your tits and ass. His lips latch onto a freed nipple, teeth scraping against in his furore. You hiss as he tugs at the teet with a voracious growl around his gums. 

You whine at the dull pinch, and brown doe-eyes glance up at you lessening the pressure as it slips out of his wet mouth. 

“Can you take it hard tonight, cariño? For me?” Javier husks, you feel his grip around your waist bruise into your skin with need.

A silent, but yielding plea circles his mocha irises. An unspoken hypnotism that you’ve recognised only a handful of times in him, but know it well enough to trust him with it.

He’ll make it hurt mami, but in a way that’ll leave you craving more. The yellowing bruises on your thighs where he grips, the teeth marks in your skin where he feasts; that heavy ache in your cervix for days as he owns you.

The deep chocolate of his eyes are dissipating into jet black. His breaths become quick, painting frantic annihilation with his touch.

You run your fingers through his oil slick hair, a gentle tug and nod with a hot smile at your lover giving him free rein. "Si, Javi. Si. Give it all to me." You confirm.

"Buena niña,” (Good girl) he rasps at you through teeth that grit. You understand what Javier needs so well, and he needs to consume you right now until there is nothing left of him, or you. 

So you let him. 

The chink of his belt buckle ricochets through you, crackling as you remove the tattered threads of your nightie, wanting his burning skin crushed and melting against yours until you become one gloopy mess together staining the sheets with your wax. 

He yanks you forward by the ankles, sliding you down the bed towards the foot of it where he stands naked; his cock thick and heavy, pointing out at you with a flush scarlet head that oozes delicious pearls from its tip. 

He parts your thighs and teases your folds with his fingers, stroking up and down your slit.

“Fucking gorgeous, querida…” Two of Javier’s fingers fill you up again, stretching you open as he widens them inside your sopping hole. 

“Mmm,” you breathe, head tossed back as he curls them inside you, beckoning your soul to depart your vessel so it doesn’t have to witness this desperate violation of it. 

Javier slides them out, sucks them clean of your slick and taps your hip to get you to turn.

“Bend over,” he instructs as you spread yourself on all fours on the end of the bed. Ass up and legs wide, just how he likes you. 

He spits onto your pussy, running his fingers through your drippings and mixing it with his saliva. Your body soars at the notion - it’s utterly lewd and filthy.

“So fucking wet for me, hermosa,” he grunts, marvelling at the spit shine. "Jesus..."

He leans forward, pulls open the globes of your ass cheeks tightly in his hands admiring the view of you splayed all for him.

Javier takes his solid, pulsing cock, lines it up and taps it against your cunt; dipping the tip of his head into your greased folds and coating himself with you. 

“Javi,” you mutter encouragingly, your body so desperate for him; your pussy contracting and squeezing to suck more of him into you as he teases you.

Teases himself; allows a beat or two to pass before the chaos descends.

Tres, dos, uno- (3,2,1-)

He plunges in, ramming his cock into your tight crevice and filling you as he shunts in and bottoms oit with force. You shriek out deliciously at the sudden thick intrusion. 

He stretches you wide, packs you out and you grip around him welcoming him into your wet flesh. 

His large hands are still on your ass cheeks, pulling you open so he can watch his cock slide up inside you to the hilt and your ass pucker at him, blowing sweet kisses.

Fuck, you take him so well.

Javier pulls back slowly; his dick so shiny and soaked in you, and rolls into you in a smooth thrust. He repeats it once, twice more before the need to start pummelling you takes over like a red mist that he can’t see through.

God, you feel so tight around him. You’re nuzzling into the covers as he fucks you deeply, losing yourself into a tumbling spiral of covetness for his cock. He’s so hard, so thick and rails you to within an inch of your life.

"Oh, fuck!" You whine as he picks up a brutal, punishing pace.

He fucks the breath out of you and all of your senses out of your mind into jumbled piles beside you in the sheets.

His large hands steady you; pulling on your hips, anchoring you back into meeting his every shunt into your squelchy tunnel that squeezes around him ruthlessly.

You spasm, detached from any control over your limbs and begin to see pink phosphenes glitter behind your eyelids. 

“Like that, baby,” you groan wantonly as Javier pulls you back against him, again and again and again.

And again.

He’s so deep you’ll be feeling it for a week. His fingers scrape through your hair, gathering it into his palm and knotting around his fingers as his cock slides further in and your head is yanked backward by your roots. 

“Mmm!” You cry out, feeling him bottom out continuously and fill you wholly.

You squirm and squeal, you judder and buck, but he keeps you grounded. Keeps you right there taking all of him brutally in a shape that would baffle any Yoga instructor as your torso is pulled upwards and backwards by your hair, as far as your spine will allow. 

It feels amazing, giddy. You feel a gentle nudging against the precipice of pain deep within your core. You feel hot, drenched. Weak.

You're tumbling, falling deeper into a black pit of oily pleasure that coats your skin. 

Javier takes your arm and folds it back across your lower spine pinning it there. He does the same with the other and your face topples into the mattress tasting cotton on your tongue as he burrows deeper, splits you open.

He’s everywhere, consuming and taking. His grunts are grazing inside your ears, his sweat is dripping onto your skin, sizzling it. His cock is punching out your insides with every snap of his hips. 

You screech as he speeds up; the constant cresting of his hip bones against you at a banging tempo as your screams start to pierce; you beg him for more.

"Más duro, Javi!” (Harder) You pant wildly. 

You want him to rip right through you and out of your chest walls with his cock. 

Your body is burning up; a fire licking at the insides of your belly acids ready to ignite them, heat surging across your skin.

You can feel it behind your eyes, in the tips of your toes, on the back of your tongue as the building of your orgasm courses through your nerve endings. 

Javier all but growls at you as his breath puffs out of his chest on each, thrusting syllable.

"You wanna come, hmm? Can feel you squeezing me, baby."

He taunts. He knows you're close to utter destruction; he can feel how tightly and regularly your pussy is squeezing around him now. He’s making you sing and he’s greedy for the hoarse treble clefs you pelt into the air around him. 

Your ass slaps back onto his thighs as he wrenches you back each time; your slick dripping down your own now, and pins and needles fizzing in your fingertips behind your back as they numb out with how he’s got you twisted.

He fucks harder. Intense. Gruelling. Unwavering thrusts fill your pussy to breaking point as he lets all of the day's failings - his failings - out of his system and forces them into you.

He gives you all he's got. And it's too much and still not enough. 

“Oh, fuck! Please, Javi!” You beg, your voice slack and thick. You can only take it; let him use your hole for his own gratification and release.

You feel a harsh sting on your ass as he slaps it - hard. 

You bawl out; a low pitched groan that warbles around the hot room, your hair sticking to your face. Your thighs shake and give way as you fall fully flat, and Javier’s hands press down onto your lower spine keeping you still as he fucks hard and deep and doesn’t stop.

The metal railings of the bed squeak relentlessly and hammer against the wall. 

“Taking my cock so well, bonita.” He pants from behind you in a voice that has been stripped away from the Javi you know.

He crushes you with his chest, his hand snaking up your throat gently as the heavy grunts inside your ear fill your head with dizzy helium that makes you float.

His thumb tip slips into your mouth as you suck on it - dribbling around it with clumsy teeth - his fingers crushing around your chin and jaw.

And you want him to snap you in half if that's what it takes. 

He’s feral in owning you, claiming you with his cock.

His favourite, eres su favorita. (You're his favourite.) You’ve not entertained other clients, stopping all services since Javier first got his dick wet inside of you. He came back for more and more. 

The length between visits is getting shorter, the time spent with his face between your legs getting longer. The money exchanged between you ceasing with mutual consent, because it’s more than just a cheap fuck now between you. DEA Agent Javier Peña craves you. Needs you when the crushing weight of the world starts to suffocate him.

Gets his sight back in colour when he takes root up in your pussy. 

He’s the only one you’ve ever let stay the night; the only body who sleeps in your bed wrapped around you like a baby capuchin clinging onto its mother.

His limbs glued to yours in the sweltering heat after he's covered you in his pearly fluids; marked his territory, a seminal signature upon your body parts and heart alike. 

Javier feels the tightness around him squeeze harder. Your pussy strangling him, milking him for all he’s got as your orgasm blasts into you like a solar flare. 

“That’s it, baby. Come on my cock,” Javier coos, his hips working harder as he fucks you through it. "Soak it, querida."

God, he fucking needs it. 

You’re weightless; your bones melt into molten lava and you blaze up from the inside out, disintegrating into ashen dust under him as you erupt. 

“Jaaaavi!” You wail, your body rattling; you’re muttering incoherently into the sheets as though possessed by a thrashing spirit. 

“Where?” He growls, holding on by a thread. “Where, querida?!” He hastens.

“Inside me, mi amor.” (My love) You instruct, out of breath, completely wrecked and spent.  

He chases it, holding out as long as he can before he spills himself inside of you with thick squirts, and heavy howls; coating your walls in that plentiful spend he loves watching drip out of you afterwards whilst he pushes it back in with his fingers. Stroking your clit gently as your thighs twitch from the overstimulation.

But he’ll keep doing it; building you up again until you can take him once more when he’s hard and ready to destroy you all over. 

He grunts loudly, chest puffing as he releases and slows his pace into a laboured shunt, your skin tight in his grip as he comes down.

Soft, satiated moans spilling from his lips and making patterns on your back as they settle in. 

His head clears, the tension untangled from his shoulder muscles, the ache in his back seems non-exisitent for a few moments, and his hands massage your ass cheeks affectionately as he slides out leaving a spill of him to follow. 

Javier takes everything from you that you have to give again before he's fully satiated; the deep night shifting into a pastel dawn, until you both collapse in the crumpled sheets of mutual sweat and come.

Tangled up in his caramel limbs and lost in a fever dream of his raw, savage sex.

Small snuffles of warm, stale breath coat your back.

Javier is dead to the world and snoring lightly from his nose; the exhaustion and over-exertion of the previous day - and night - finally kicking his pert ass into a smashed sleep.

In the late morning, the glow of the Colombian sun flirting behind the curtains coats his face in gold shadows that dance.

When you stir awake, he's already regarding you; those dark coffee eyes a lighter shade of hazel in the light.

He runs a lone, thick finger that carries the scent of you in the whorl of his fingerprint down your arm and onto your hip. It leaves goose pimples in its wake and destroys your peace. 

Your nipple wakes up on the breast that isn't crushed under your body weight and he strokes his thumb over it delicately, rousing you. You shudder and smile sleepily under the mess of your hair. 

“You good, cariño?” Javier’s voice is muted, heavy with sleep and some small hesitation is lingering there in the roots of his moustache.

He knows he was rough on you, maybe a little too rough at times. Knows he used your body for his own release, his cock a battering ram into your precious pussy. Even though you came - he’ll always make sure you do before he does - he was justifiably selfish in his needs in getting off this time.

But you don’t mind. You’ll take him however he comes to you when he needs you.

This morning he’s going to make it up to you as you nod at him, smiling like you’re drunk cupping his face, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone and feeling the graze of a shadow of sharp hairs surfacing. 

Javier kisses you deeply, licks into your mouth and rolls himself on top of you. He peppers kisses down your jaw affectionately, suckles gently on your chin through sleepy smiles, and nips your throat with contented sighs that inflate you.

He runs his jaw across yours affectionately, nips gently on your ear lobe and plants more, delicate kisses over the vicinity of your face.

The weight on his shoulders seems lighter now, almost gone. The prospect of a clearer head and an optimistic approach in his next move in capturing Escobar seems less daunting, more attainable somehow.

And he knows it's because of you.

“Javi, baby,” you moan as you feel his hardness pressing into your inner thigh meat. His wetness smears over it and glistens in the sunlight.

His touch is more delicate now, more precise and concentrated. 

More Javier.

“Querida,” Javier shushes as he plants a trail of kisses across your collarbone, mouthing around your nipples gently with a warm, wet tongue and soothing the sting of his previous bites.

He feeds you bliss, calm. He feeds you the tender pieces of him that no-one has ever tasted before.

A ragged cry unfurls at the back of your throat as he slips back inside you, this time taking his sweet time in filling you and making you feel every veined inch of him.

Gasping at how good he feels, your hands claw at his back; you bury your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his fresh musk of sweat, smoky cigarettes and the lingering spices of his aftershave in faint notes, as he drowns you with him and pulls you under. 

Javier’s hips rock back and forth, moving deeper with every deliberate glide. His pubic bone caresses your clit deliciously as he grinds in and out. You’re biting into the tan skin of his shoulder as your dreamy orgasm stirs from the slumbering pits of your core. 

“Come for me, baby,” he rouses in your ear in a thick whisper drenched in his own pleasure growing again, as feeling you squeeze and pulsate around his cock makes him weak.

He kisses gently all over the skin of your cheek; delicately peppering little smooches. Running his fuzzy lips against your skin.

You kiss him back, tasting his tongue and sucking it gently.

“Mierda,” (Shit) he grunts as he feels your fingers entwine with his and squeeze tightly.

He squeezes back. He always squeezes back.

“Javi, don’t stop…” You whimper with a mouth full of his skin, and he draws back to watch you come undone. Watch you lose your shit on the end of him once more and it's a sight that makes everything else pale into insignificance.

You shine brighter than the sun blinding him.

There’s a reason why he favoured you over all the whores he’s ever found solace in; this right here.

That resplendent look glazed over your watery eyes as you come completely undone around him; crying for him and begging him for more of his cock.

For more of him. 

Your cheeks are red matching the heat on your lips, your eyes punch drunk on lust and the glitter that only you can see fills the room once more and suffocates all of your orifices with its metallic dust.

You come again, hard. It's intense. Different to how it was last night.

The tightening bunch in your gut snapping back like a band, and flooding out of you; soaking his cock which he so desperately wants and needs. 

It’s enough to make Javier lose it again too. He pants and groans as he empties out inside of you, collapsing onto your chest and grunting as he catches his breath.

Your hands soothe his back and you stay like that for a while feeling his warmth leak out of you whilst he softens. 

You kiss into hairline as he kisses over the same patch of skin on your stomach, as he stays there for a while and contemplates never moving from that spot ever again.

You watch, a while later, as he tucks his gun into the back of his waistband and grabs his cigarettes from the table in the hall. His yellow aviators find their home on his face and he smiles at you.

And this is the part that always cuts through the pleasure you’ve been drowning in. 

Javier turns to kiss you, his hands squeezing your body; moulding it into his as he leaves a cast of you in his flesh, an indent where you'll always fit. 

The scent of his stale, sweat laden, pink shirt seeps into your nose and you taste salt on each other’s lips that'll stay on yours long after he leaves. You’ll lick it off, continuing to taste him; ingesting him fully.

Each parting kiss feels heavier, longer somehow, and you sense some reluctance in him this time - forever hopeful.

But you know it won’t be long again before he’s back. 

Afterall, you’re Javier Peña’s absolute favourite. 

I hope you enjoyed reading this Javier Peña story of mine. If you enjoyed it, please consider re-blogging so others can find it on their dash. Thank you. 🖤

MASTERLIST| JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

[stealeroflemons]

EAH MUSICAL #25 (PART II) BECAUSE I WANT IT SO BAD

Briar gets a song called "Party On" which sounds like it's supposed to be super fun and upbeat and about her being a party girl, but I want a Thronecoming moment, I want a raw moment of Briar calling out Apple while getting their dresses fitted about how

"I can't bear to just move on, 'Cause I'm just meant to party on"

(But imagine I actually know how to write songs, vibes are all I'm good at)

I want a dramatic duet between The Evil Queen and Snow White called "Let The Games Begin" with some jazzy showy feuding lines, but an overwhelming, almost doomed undertone, kind of like "The Plagues" from The Prince of Egypt (if you went to religous ed or sunday school you most likely watched that movie and or veggie tales)

I also want a song where it's all the teachers singing in a flashback of when they were banishing the Evil Queen to her mirror prison and it's all of them singing about everyone that's on the line if they don't succeed called "Mirror Mirror"

Adding on to that, The Evil Queen gets a "Mirror Mirror (Reprise)" number about how much she's been reformed since she was cast away, this would take place during Dragon Games when she manipulated Apple into keeping her mouth shut about her being free

And of course we have to have a number where it's all the bookball boys talking about winning the big game for Thronecoming and halfway through Cerise steps in about wanting to be on the team and they laugh it off a reject her

Then we get a part two to the previous number "Making The Team (Again)" where it's the boys begging for Cerise to help them before they get stomped on

(This idea comes from @krussy-reblog-blog thank you for responding to the previous post <3) Cerise also gets a solo where she tells Raven about her big family secret (when Kitty was going to out her secret to everyone) and how she's afraid of people knowing called "All Ears"

I also just want a number called "Jumpy" about Hopper trying to flirt with Briar and turning into a frog every. single. time. Like he's sabotaging himself spectacularly and Faybelle is snickering in the background, laughing her ass off

And if you think I'm not going to push my bribelle agender during pride month? oh honey, you've got a big storm coming

So we all know how Briar falls asleep in random places all the time because of her curse right? right. Well I want a song set probably during or after the events of Epic Winter where Briar and Faybelle are talking about the dream they both shared after being exposed to the spindle dust. In the beginning of the song is when Briar is sharing her fears about her future and her destiny and then partway through it switches to Faybelle singing about how she doesn't want to curse Briar, but at the end she realizes Briar fell asleep on her shoulder BECAUSE IT'S CUTE AND I SAID SO. The song will be called "Thorns and Roses" and it will be beautiful

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 5

Race

Unfortunately this is short and late but at least it's out XD, both the sixth entry for Linktober Shadow and following this one should be regularly posted if I'm not too sleep deprived because I am having way too much fun writing them.

Shout out to the Four fans because they are extremely based, and a small love letter to the Minish Cap, I adore the Minish to death and they're really neat, shame we don't talk about them more.

Can be read as platonic or romantic and in or outside a LU context.

If you had to say anything about the Smithy’s Hyrule, is that it was heartbreakingly charming.

It wasn’t as vast as any of the others, not quite the reclaimed and untamed nature of Sky’s anymore but not yet the most concrete form to the rigid Hyrule that stood on it’s own feet by Warriors’ time for as long as it could with the unyieldingness of granite, that didn’t mean you didn’t adore it to death, with it’s growing oaks and flourishing May lilacs and cerise autumn shades that came dancing in with all it’s cicada laughing whimsy and kindness with the raw and unapologetic stubbornness of a hunting Lynel, inviting and goading and jeering you into exploring every little crack you could until there wasn’t anymore left to see. Fitting for Four, the Hero as kind as he is stubborn and arguably the most clever and rational of the Chain (well, as rational as any of your boys ever were, can’t be the Hero of Courage without being some mix of crazy, genius, a bit of na oblivious fool or all three) on sheer account of the way he looked that challenge right in the face and decided to double down and apply it to his life in general, it was charming and you all adored him for it.

“-Alright, so you stick close to me ok? The other’s can’t see you but as soon as they’re asleep-“

... Which was why you were rightfully worried when you seemingly walked in on him talking to himself when going to get him from a water fetching run, the line between insanity and genius was really fine and something in you just knew Four would be the type to stumble headfirst into shenanigans caused by his own hubris and then not tell anyone about it unless under threat of death because prying anything out of him was like trying to pull a lynel’s teeth out.

“Link?”, he jumped, frantically hiding his hands behind his back and looking so incredibly suspicious you couldn’t help but look around already, “Look, I’m not judging or anything. But I’d like some forewarning if I have to hide a body because I didn’t bring a shovel.“

He chokes, startling into a laugh, it’s warm and startled, you think you spot verdant and crimson in his gaze and can’t help your own smile, “Wha- Why would that be the first jump you made?!”

You gestured to him, skipping closer to his personal space, not too close, you knew that he could be like a feral cat about his boundaries, but enough that he wouldn’t be able to run away, “I mean you are looking suspicious and talking to yourself. Pardon me making some leaps in logic with the information I have at hand.”

He gives you a look, a small ‘Hah’ escaping him, deadpan, before he leans back a bit, looking away, “You’re ridiculous, I was just... Practing some acting? For the upcoming Picoto Festival?”

Now it was your turn to give him a blank look, raising an eyebrow for good measure.

He winces, shaking his head, shifting onto his feet and pointedly not looking at you, “... In hindsight that’s not my best one.”

“Not by far, but I’ll let it slide.”, you place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he relaxes into the touch with a sigh, some times he’s glad you can see through him, other times he’s not sure he shouldn’t be a bit concerned, “Now, what’s bothering you? How can I help you?”

After a second, he looks at you, considering amethyst warring with the prism of his gaze, studying, analyzing like he would a weapon, before finally speaking, “Can I trust you not to say anything? And to not think I’m crazy?”

“Really not helping with my running theory you killed someone and need help disposing of the body.” You snipe back drily, but nodding anyway, “But you can, promise.”

He nods, then finally draws his hand from behind is back, reaching into his hood with a quiet, soothing murmur of ‘it’s alright’, you swear you hear a small sound, somewhere between a high pitched squeak and a chirp.

You gasp softly, the little being’s tail swishes, squeaking up at you, Four smiles a bit crookedly. Slumping shoulders betraying his relief, “I’ll take it you can see them?”

You nod, gently waving to the small, ivory colored mice like creature, “Mhm, hello. What’s a Minish doing here all alone?”

Four tilts his head, ears twitching as the Minish squeaks up at you, waving back, feathery tail swishing as they gesture animatedly, their leaf cloak swaying with the movement, “You know of them? And they got stranded here after it rained, I was going to help them get back to the village since we’re close by and well...” He trails off.

“I do, never thought I’d be able to see one though. And you didn’t think anyone else could either.” You smile apologetically at the Minish, “Sorry buddy, I can’t understand you.”

They squeak, ears going down, then perk up gesturing to their head as Four chuckles, “They ended up losing their hat, wanna help me look for a new one before we set off?”

You grin back, nodding, “Of course! Do you mind translating? I’d love to know more about them if you're up for sharing and they're okay with talking.”

“It’s a bit of a long story, are you sure?” Four asked hesitantly, placing the Minish on their shoulders, they squeak from their new perch, giving you a little nod.

“Well, it’s a good thing we have time.” You smile, locking your arm with his.

[theotherbackgrounder]

Ginger: SPIT IT OUT!

Cerise, eating her food: But it’s tasty.

Ginger: IT’S RAW!

[xxcherrycherixx]

Cupid’s and Blondie’s wedding reception must be fucking crazy, you’ve got the greek gods, Monsters, Fairy Tale characters as well as Cupid’s other friends from other unrevealed schools she went to, I also imagine some gods from other mythologies (Norse, Egyptian) turning up to The wedding.

Basically anyone who is anyone is there, the one night stands must have been insane.

Fuck, you are so right.

I need to know who is hooking up at that wedding so bad

One thing is certain- Briar is absolutely taking a god or monster home that night, just out of curiosity 👀

I can see cerise fucking a werewolf, the sex would be rough af and maybe a bit bloody (wether that’s from them or the raw steaks they devoured before it- you decide)

I need to know who else we think is banging, im so invested in this i need to know!!!

Cupid is so buzzed and horny during the reception, she keeps trying to convince blondie to ditch it and go have sex already. Blondie asks why shes behaving like this and cupid is like “hun, i know you cant feel it but there is so much lust in this room- im pretty sure most of our guests are just straight up eye fucking each other at this point.” Blondie looks around and starts to notice how many of their guests are heavily flirting with each other “oh, you aren’t joking” she decides to be a little merciful to her wife and gives cupid a little relief in the bathroom, just so they don’t have to leave early. Afterwards they start to gossip with each other about who they have seen leave the party together.

[plumsaffron]

Here's something from dec 14-17 @kuu-asaur

Basically this thread reply starts with.

Luka pfp saying the models between kids and adults are very distinct. Cerise only seems older but that's all.

Then the Op says oh I'm 23 but people think I'm 16.

Which easily convinces the Luka pfp to be convinced that she made be an adult by that logic (but that should make it void considering the previous statement of looks older since you know people younger still made be seen as older.) that she is an adult.

Why?

Cause Lila flirting with Adrien means she has to be.

Really?

I'm gonna laugh in episode Felix now (would Marinette qualify too? Idrc. It's really dumb take)

Other replies are she's: 40 or idk she's ugly bitter old woman

old girl in her twenties passing 14

Idk I hope she gets arrested for false identities because it's illegal and she's going to hell.

Hmph illegal huh? That's nice. I guess Marino and Felix are going too.

Sigh why are these humans like this? What does wanting this do?

They rather eat raw meats and ignore ramifications of illnesses from their folly

They got that Esther from Orphan kink again I guess.

[martyroshka]

witch,  woman,  widow.    all comparative sins of the time.  milk flesh curdled to them as the sun’s arc shortens over her diminished gardens.  she does not wear her mourning,  anymore.  flesh prickled,   wine-skin in the cold  &  clamouring at the pinched flesh of her corset.   

we toil in frenzied somatic being,   syncopate flesh that can only find sparing closure with the crescendo of the other to an amber husk.  an inch,  a separation by skin makes despair of us all.   who could love you,  as i do?    we find each other again  &  again   (fools,  destiny;  synonyms of both).   what is this,  if not belonging?     i cannot hide from you.   it has gone on too long.   we will always know of you   &   i.   the proof will be your body  &  my hands the shade of a savage harvest.   

redivivus woman  &  xyresic from the mouth;    she envelopes herself in the shawl,  shivering in the threnetic air of the wilderness beset them both.  the woman’s raw hands grasp at her forearms as she shudders its price,   full-bodied   &   still,  her bones let-out.   i will be palatable,  she thought,   as no poultice of her psyche.   should she be made that way?   or retain her acrimony as sloe fruits in season come  &  tower-crowned mother of the rotten grain   (humoured by demeter  &  the avenging dead),  the silent lemures;  in fear with dripping ambrosial fingers.  she salivates at the thought. 

cerise tresses unkempt of her curled plait  &  remake her jaw an espalier.   dew -  stained seraphim,    in orchids abloom  &  ascian as being,   oblation - like as the scent of starlit roses.    she smiles.      “   i don’t think i’ve seen you around,  before.   i’d like to introduce myself,   “    with the cloying rasp,   the sun invited into them, the backdrop of sycamores, calyx  &  white chapel pinnacles of apricity.    “   i’m lydia martin.    &  you are?   ”

[swashbuckling-chicken]

you said i could send you all the colors i want and i took that literally

(those have nothing to do with the ask game anymore but i’m bored and don’t have anything better to do, i copy pasted these btw i can’t actually think of so many color names)

Alizarin

Amaranth

Amber

Amethyst

Apricot

Aqua

Aquamarine

Asparagus

Auburn

Azure

Beige

Bistre

Black

Blue

Blue Green

Blue Violet

Bondi Blue

Brass

Bronze

Brown

Buff

Burgundy

Burnt Orange

Burnt Sienna

Burnt Umber

Camouflage Green

Caput Mortuum

Cardinal

Carmine

Carrot orange

Celadon

Cerise

Cerulean

Champagne

Charcoal

Chartreuse

Cherry Blossom Pink

Chestnut

Chocolate

Cinnabar

Cinnamon

Cobalt

Copper

Coral

Corn

Cornflower

Cream

Crimson

Cyan

Dandelion

Denim

Ecru

Emerald

Eggplant

Falu red

Fern green

Firebrick

Flax

Forest green

French Rose

Fuchsia

Gamboge

Gold

Goldenrod

Green

Grey

Han Purple

Harlequin

Heliotrope

Hollywood Cerise

Indigo

Ivory

Jade

Kelly green

Khaki

Lavender

Lawn green

Lemon

Lemon chiffon

Lilac

Lime

Lime green

Linen

Magenta

Magnolia

Malachite

Maroon

Mauve

Midnight Blue

Mint green

Misty rose

Moss green

Mustard

Myrtle

Navajo white

Navy Blue

Ochre

Office green

Olive

Olivine

Orange

Orchid

Papaya whip

Peach

Pear

Periwinkle

Persimmon

Pine Green

Pink

Platinum

Plum

Powder blue

Puce

Prussian blue

Psychedelic purple

Pumpkin

Purple

Quartz Grey

Raw umber

Razzmatazz

Red

Robin egg blue

Rose

Royal blue

Royal purple

Ruby

Russet

Rust

Safety orange

Saffron

Salmon

Sandy brown

Sangria

Sapphire

Scarlet

School bus yellow

Sea Green

Seashell

Sepia

Shamrock green

Shocking Pink

Silver

Sky Blue

Slate grey

Smalt

Spring bud

Spring green

Steel blue

Tan

Tangerine

Taupe

Teal

Tenné (Tawny)

Terra cotta

Thistle

Titanium White

Tomato

Turquoise

Tyrian purple

Ultramarine

Van Dyke Brown

Vermilion

Violet

Viridian

Wheat

White

Wisteria

Xanthic

Yellow

Zucchini

you are a menace

[apricusnights]

Olympus Tournament: Round Two, Batch Two.

"Hello world! For those of you who aren't aware..I am Jasper Lloyd! Famed director at the Evergreen Theater back in Apricus City! Hold your applause please."

"I've been asked to provide you with the thrilling recaps of Round Two, Batch Two! So sit back, grab your favorite drink, and cheer on your favorite competitors because here we go baby!"

Match One:

Hugo Knight Cerise Gilios Boone Bailey

Vs.

Onyx Cheshire Ivory Reynard Ajax

"Ajax wastes no time in completely ignoring any suggestions made by Onyx as he rushes forward to clash weapons against Hugo. Both fighters hold their ground, not willing to give an inch as their weapons strike."

"Onyx, and Ivory however seem to have some sort of gameplan as Onyx swings around using his wires and Ivory jumps to a vantage point to fire off a few shots. Cerise and Boone manage to find some cover. Cerise motions to Boone and the two seem to have a mutual understanding about something."

"Meanwhile Ajax grabbed hold of Hugo and tossed him into a wall. Hugo however brushes himself off and laughs, rushing back at Ajax and landing an elbow strike to the gut. The two exchange some bone rattling strikes and seem to be oblivious as to what their teammates seem to be up to."

"Onyx swings down to strike a distracted Hugo but Cerise is tossed by Boone and smacks Onyx in mid-air, causing him to tumble to the ground. Onyx recovers and tries to use his wires to tie up Cerise but she proves too nimble, dodging out of the way.'

"Ivory can't get a clear shot at Cerise due to her being so close to Onyx and opts to take a shot at Hugo instead. Hugo manages to dive out of the way but it only leaves him open to take a strong hit from Ajax."

"Ajax goes to attack Hugo again but finds himself forced back by Boone. Their blades clash as Ajax uses his power to his advantage, making Boone slide back along the ground. Boone though smiles and tips his hat as he dodges a strike, spinning around Ajax and smacking the back of his head before taking a bow to a cheering crowd."

"Onyx breaks away from Cerise and wraps his wires around Boone's legs which allows Ivory to sneak in a few shots that drive Boone back to the arena's edge. Ivory goes to finish him off but suddenly doesn't seem to have a clear shot as Boone has activated his ability."

"The visual distortion throws Ivory off and her shot almost hits Ajax, causing him to get more angry than he was before. Before she can say anything Ivory finds herself face to face with Cerise. Their weapons clash but Cerise flips over Ivory's head, pulling Ivory's weapon up and leaving her open to Hugo who charges in and shoulder tackles Ivory, sending her out of the arena."

"Boone taunts Ajax and despite not having a clear view of his target, Ajax rushes off, whiffing a few strikes. Onyx however manages to tie up Boone just as Ajax dives at him. Ajax and Boone both tumble out of the arena and have to be separated by staff."

"Onyx is left alone with Cerise and Hugo. To his credit he puts up a fight, using agility to avoid the two stronger fighters but they eventually catch up with him. Hugo knocks down the tree Onyx had landed on and as Onyx goes to wire swing away, Cerise throws her axe into the wires, tangling them up and sending Onyx to the ground where Hugo boots him out of bounds."

Winners: Hugo Knight, Cerise Gilios, Boone Bailey

Match Two:

Sunil Gilios Arvinda Tuck Tendo Sato

Vs.

Gouki May Artemisia Sterling Sobek

"And here we go with the second match of the day! We've got Sunil exchanging fire with May, Sterling engages Tendo in hand to hand combat, Gouki finds herself up against Arvinda. Gouki seemingly surprised by Arvinda's raw power that rivals her own. Gouki manages the upper hand for a moment but is struck from behind by a shot fire from Sunil. She stumbles forward into an uppercut by Arvinda and lands on her back."

"Arvinda goes to land a knee drop but Gouki rolls out of the way, Gouki tries to sweep Arvinda but Arvinda leaps back and draws her axe. Meanwhile Sunil gets a clear shot and blasts apart the tree May was hiding in but the templar simply leaps to another, avoiding Sunil's shots."

"Sterling and Tendo continue to brawl until both draw their weapons and begin to clash. Sterling rushes into a ruined building and is followed by Tendo. Tendo chases Sterling up the winding stairs, their weapons striking against each other as they climb. Both make it up to the roof."

"Sunil and May both take aim to support their teammates, firing at the building. Meanwhile Gouki dos all she can to avoid Arvinda's axe. Arvinda uses the vent on her weapon to unleash a huge blast of steam, creating something of a smoke screen. Gouki centers herself and waits. Arvinda makes a move but Gouki avoids it and lands some strong hits, knocking Arvinda's weapon away."

"The building begins to crumble as Sterling leaps over the side. Tendo rushes after him and looks over only to get kicked in the face as Sterling jumps back up from the ledge he was on. Sterling however finds himself struck by a shot from Sunil which makes him stumble. May loads an explosive round and fires at the building which causes it to collapse. Tendo rushes forward and tackles Sterling off of the building as it falls. Both land hard on the ground."

"Sunil takes aim but can't get a good shot at his target. He's surprised when Gouki appears in front of him, pulling his weapon away and striking him with a quick combination of hits. He blocks a few but Gouki fakes an attack which causes Sunil to look one way only to get blasted by May and fall back out of bounds."

"Gouki senses an attack and manages to duck as Arvinda's weapon goes flying by. She turns back only to be met with a flying punch from Arvinda that staggers her. Arvinda slides over and picks up her weapon, venting the steam again directly into Gouki's face. Gouki manages to avoid Arvinda's axe strike but the steam distraction does it's job and Gouki is unable to avoid the sudden strikes by Tendo which cause her to just barely get knocked out of bounds."

"Arvinda rushes back over to prevent Sterling from knocking Tendo out but is left open to a barrage of fire from May. Tendo goes to pull Arvinda out of the way but gets tangled up with Tendo. A shot from May causes Arvinda to drop her axe which activates the last bit of steam in it to vent out."

"May moves to a better vantage point but can't get a clear shot. Arvinda launches herself through the steam but almost hits Tendo. May finally gets a clear shot, loading another explosive round and firing it right in front of Tendo and Arvinda, the blast forcing them both back. Sterling takes the moment to throw himself at both. As he does, May fires another explosive round, it propels Sterling forward. The combination of the explosion and Sterling crashing into Arvinda and Tendo is enough to send all three out of bounds."

Winners: Gouki, May Artemisia, Sterling Sobek

"Well those were certainly some thrilling matches weren't they? I'm feeling inspired! Perhaps I'll write a play about this entire event some time!"

"I hope you enjoyed yourselves! Make sure you tune in tomorrow for Batch Three of Round Two. The final two fights of the round take place and they are not to be missed!"

"Au Revoir!"

[angeliqueshelleyartist]

The Power of Colour in Affect Theory: Pixar

SOURCES AND SIGNIFICANCE BLOG POST #8

In this blog post I’ll be exploring the relationship between colour and affect and its use in creative media.

Affect theory is hard to describe in concrete terms as the concept itself is both transient and evolving, as is our understanding of it. Gregg and Seigworth (2010) described affect as “visceral forces…other than consciousness,” “intensities” and “ resonances that circulate about, between, and sometimes stick to bodies and worlds,”  (Gregg and  Seigworth, 2010, p. 1). While Deleuze (2005) claimed that colour is affect, because colours “are moving, transient and relational forces that animate matter and befall human bodies,” Deleuze (2005; Beyes, De Cock, 2017), Haberl (2021) views colour as an “imperfect representation of affect’s complexity”. Despite acknowledging this, Haberl can’t help being drawn to using “colour as a tool for representing affect” (p. 5), as seen in her qualitative study involving school children choosing colour over contextual forms to illustrate affective memories (Haberl, 2021). 

As a concept artist, engaging the visceral side of affect is intriguing for me as emotional engagement with most productions is a desired outcome for directors and most of these decisions happen during pre-development. Besides sound and music playing a vital role in the symphony of affect’s parts in cinema and games, colour and visual narrative are elements that can be directly created and influenced by visual concept artists. Tia Kratter, a shading director at Pixar for 19 years, believes that colour can “shape emotion…push tension or evoke a sense of tranquillity,” (Kratter, 2017, p. 7). In Kratter’s book, The Colour of Pixar, she isolates stills from a collection of Pixar films and arranges them by colour in an attempt to experience the stills in a new way. The separation from context allowed her to see similarities between moments in films through composition, shape, and predominantly colour.  It’s a fascinating look into how Pixar uses colour to elicit emotion, and how certain colours can have different emotional intentions when paired with the visual language of shapes, compositions and recognisable visual narrative devices, for example: candles in Coco v.s a laser beam in Toy Story 2 (see fig. 1).

Fig, 1. A pair of stills arranged by colour, The Colour of Pixar, p. 19

Kratter says “if the colour in the film is working well, it can send signals to the audience about the feelings of a new scene without one line of dialogue.” The most famous of emotional Pixar montages that didn’t feature dialogue are from the film UP, although first released in 2009, it’s still doing its rounds on the internet due its affective power. The Married Life sequence (see Fig. 2) is less than 5 minutes in length, but its visceral power is enduring because of the rawness and relatablity to the themes of love, longing and loss. 

Fig. 2, UP: Married Life | Script to Screen | Disney•Pixar

The score for this sequence is a heavy weight in the affective array, but more subtly, the colour pink is used to convey the character and concept of “Ellie” and all the love, longing and loss that she embodies through Carl’s union with her. Shades of pink and orange are present through nearly all of the montage when it finally peaks into an intensely saturated cerise at Ellie’s funeral before the last pink hues of the setting sun fade entirely from the house’s facade.

Fig. 3, UP: Stuff I'm Going to Do

In the reprise montage, Stuff I'm Going to Do (see fig. 3), as Carl completes his character’s arc of mourning, the vehicle for his moving forward was a return to Ellie, a hint of pink paisley patterning is seen at a visual hint to her last surprise in their adventure book, and finally, a tint of pink is seen on the horizon once Carl has his realisation. In the symphony of affect that makes this montage so powerful, the subtlety of the visual narrative through the colour’s journey is very striking to me. 

Interestingly, Pixar is willing to deviate from their colour scripts for cultural reasons, for example Danielle Feinberg, the photography director in charge of lighting the movie CoCo, made a decision to add a green fluorescent light (like the ones she had seen in homely kitchens during research trips in Mexico), to Mama Coco’s family kitchen. The effect was fascinating because a colour that usually prompts the audience that something eerie or sinister was about to happen, felt homely and right (Rogers, 2021). Perhaps this is affect theory at play: emotions tied to a specific culture are felt by others despite not having the same cultural context to relate to, you could say that the green light in the kitchen became a resonance that circulated about, “between, and sometimes stick[ing] to bodies and worlds,”  (Gregg and  Seigworth, 2010, p. 1). 

Relating the above to my personal practice, understanding the affective qualities of colour, lighting, shapes and compositions can help me create concept art which is able to express the intended emotional quality of a scene or place. Equally, understanding and accurately representing cultural interpretations of colour can not only help me be aware of affect across cultures, but also create better representations in concept art.

References:

BEYES, T., DE COCK, C. (2017). Adorno’s grey, Taussig’s blue: Colour, organization and critical affect. Organization. 24(1), pp.59-78. [Online]. Available at: https://doi-org.ezproxy.herts.ac.uk/10.1177/1350508416668189 [Accessed 9 January 2024].

DELEUZE, G. (2005) Francis Bacon: The Logic of Sensation (trans. Smith D. W.). London: Continuum.

GREGG, M., SEIGWORTH, G. J. (2010). The Affect Theory Reader. Durham & London: Duke University Press.

HABERL, E. (2021). Lower Case Truth: Bridging Affect Theory and Arts-Based Education Research to Explore Color as Affect. International Journal of Qualitative Methods. 20(1). [Online]. Available at: https://doi-org.ezproxy.herts.ac.uk/10.1177/1609406921998917 [Accessed 9 January 2024].

KRATTER, T. (2017). The Color of Pixar. San Francisco: Chronicle Books LLC.

ROGERS, A. (2021). How Pixar Uses Hyper-Colors to Hack Your Brain. [Online]. Wired. Available at: https://www.wired.com/story/how-pixar-uses-hyper-colors-to-hack-your-brain/ [Accessed 25 October 2023].

[agonychespin]

I much like cerise hood eat raw meat

[og-stories-with-21z]

Escaping Town - a TwooneZ original

A/N this is one of my very favorite stories! I’m happy to be sharing it with you all!

.

Salandra Savory knew what she had done, and she wasn’t sorry, either. She held firmly onto the belief, as the wind swept past her skirt. The bright blue, cocktail dress squeezed itself onto her thighs, and flew out behind her. Her large, pink, sunhat, lifted off her head a little as the breeze picked up. She pulled her pink gloves tighter over her hands. The gloves had dark cerise lace on the bottom; they were skintight and a little too small, just how she liked them. Her black socks came up to the middle of her thighs, and made her feet slip and slide in her seven inch heels, which were making a klacking noise. She smiled.

The sand-color cement wall was changing between red and blue. It excited her, as she pushed herself harder. The trees went flashing by, and the clouds, and buildings, and the sky seemed to get further. It was all a rush, and she loved it. She grabbed the skirt in her hands, and let gravity do the rest.

Klack.

Klack.

Klack.

Every time her heels made the sound it got louder. She was satisfied. She loved the feeling of falling. Salandra kept her head up. She couldn’t slow down too much, she had to stay ahead. She was going so fast it was hard to breathe. Air filled her nose too fast, and she had to cough on it, but she had practiced a thousand times. She knew how to do it now. Gasping with her mouth, she kept herself alive.

Klack.

Klack.

Klack.

There was that sound again. That harsh reality check. It just seemed to dampen her mood, but she didn’t let it get her down. At least, not this time.

Images flashed in her mind. Those horrid memories would never leave her alone, that was why she had done it. That was why she was here. That was why she wouldn’t be caught again.

The black room, the cold air, the sour stench.

The ropes, the metal bats, the wet furniture.

The raw food, the oily drinks, the rubber clothes, and the dirty living quarters.

All of it filled her memory, and made her disgusted.

Made her angry.

Made her hopeless.

Made her frustrated.

But most importantly, made her overjoyed. Made her so happy.

So enthusiastic.

So energetic.

So glad!

She would not have been made this way if this hadn’t happened. This was a rare occasion, not very many people got this. She was lucky, very lucky. She was a special case, and she was able to reach out, and grasp the opportunity. Her dreams were coming true!

But the sirens were getting louder, and the red and blue lights were getting faster. She couldn’t stop now. Not for anything! Her heart was hardly beating, and her nerves weren’t activating. She had gotten used to it by now, though the transition had been difficult.

Her hands crashed into the cement wall, stinging her from the impact; frazzling her arms all the way from her elbows to her shoulders. Salandra didn’t let up.

She pushed herself back up, and let herself get taken by gravity once more. Her heels slammed against the pavement, but they wouldn’t break. She knew that much, seeing as she had been the one to build them. That’s how she knew steel was inside them. They could be used as rather nice weapons, too. Just a single hit to the head would really hurt.

She flung herself past the streetlamp, and around the corner.

She charged past the bank, and away from the cafe.

She leapt down the stairs, over a puddle, across the bridge and out of sight of the big, dreadful, structure that had been her home for so long.

Salandra cascaded into the park, bulldozed her way through the crowded sidewalk, and zigzagged around the searching police. Just a little longer now. She was more than halfway there.

But the lights overhead blazed, and in an instant she was standing in their puddle. It was surrounding her; she was, once again, in the spotlight of capture. But she wasn’t done yet! Just because they had discovered her didn’t mean they had trapped her.

Had arrested her.

Had apprehended her.

Had imprisoned her.

She was still free, and she was going to stay that way. No matter how many recaptures it took. Her eyes gleamed, and her smile widened. Her pulse skipped and her blood roared. She knew things that they didn’t. And that made her an incredible enemy.

That made her… one step ahead… always, and forever...

Savory could feel it building her chest, but she had only a few more miles to go. She wouldn’t halt just to relax.

Just to feel safe again.

No. She would be safe once she passed the border.

Once she saw the other side.

Once she was long, long, gone.

Once she was far away.

She picked up her skirt, and jumped. She was falling again.

Yes, yes, yes! How amazing it felt to be airborne! Oh, she would never tire of that. Not ever. She closed her eyes briefly, remembering who had taught her that.

HE had. HE had taught her that. And she had left him behind… He was still back there.

Her happiness.

Her hope.

Her encouragement.

Her…

Her love…

That’s who she had left behind.

But Salandra Savory shoved it to the side of her brain so hard, and so fast, she nearly fell onto her right side, because that was the direction she had put it. Well, if she HAD put it somewhere, then surely it would have been to the right. If anything in her mind could go ANYWHERE, then it must have gone right. It was only logical.

But her feet kept carrying her, and she didn’t fall. She glided out of the street like she was a spatula spreading frosting on a cake. She was not there for very long.

Her hat had been blown off her head by the wind some time ago, and she hadn’t had the time to run back and grab it. It was her mother’s hat, and she loved it dearly. Her mother had given it to her for protection before she died, now it was nothing. Probably rotting somewhere in a drain puddle. It didn’t deserve that.

Salandra didn’t have time for sadness right now. She had to keep going. And so, she did.

Her gloves were getting sweaty, but she wouldn’t lose them like she had her hat. She kept them on her hands; her determination was as strong as her geniusness, and people said that she was smart. Very, more than average, smart.

The urge inside her chest grew so big she had to give in. She began to laugh. She laughed so hard, so loud, and so rough, that it nearly suffocated her, but it didn’t slow her down any. Quite the opposite in fact. It filled her with such confidence that she couldn’t back down. She bounded the rest of the way, not losing her ground, laughing maniacally all the while.

She could still feel the rush she had felt before, when she fired the gun and heard the ear-splitting bang of the gunshot.

When she saw the blood pool.

When she saw the body fall.

When she knew he was dead.

She had cheered.

She had clapped.

She had sung.

She had danced.

She had… celebrated.

And that was the thing, she didn’t feel anything. She HADN’T felt anything. And she didn’t WANT to.

She raced for the river, and she dove into it. Her dress was heavy, but it didn’t bring her down. She had practiced at the prison, swimming with her heavy clothes. She had practiced everything. She’d been planning this for a while, so she had known what to go over.

She swam to the other side, though she didn’t need to, it was shallow enough to walk. And then, as her feet hit the sand, she exhaled. Finally, she was free.

But she had another fall to encounter. She prepared herself to jump. And she did. She sailed through the air, and continued going. Going. Going. Going. Going.

The red and blue lights were starting to catch up, and so were the sirens, but they couldn’t get her. She had crossed the river. They WOULDN’T get her, because they were too scared of what lay on the other side. They would leave her for the wolves, like they had done to everyone else who had taken this journey. Because their puny, pathetic, inferior, lives were too fragile.

Too delicate to handle it.

Too… plain…

Too… utterly breakable.

She turned around and laughed. She pointed at them, and laughed so hard her stomach hurt. The looks on their faces were priceless, as they stared at the weak, and unmoveable Salandra Savory. She wasn’t broken. No. Just smart. Smart enough to know how to get all the attention away from her, and then bolt when the time was right.

Oh, they didn’t know what they were missing. She was outside, where the real world was, and they were missing out. She was really glad to be herself at that moment. How much it must suck to be those calloused, self-centered, imbeciles. And all she did was laugh.

Then a head emerged from under the surface of the water, and her heart stopped for the first time. The hair was plastered down over the face, the big, baggy, clothes were hanging tightly to the body, and the shoes were filled with water but she knew who it was. How could she forget?

Gamath Graves was heading towards her, he had her hat in his hands, and a little smile on his face. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked at her in the eyes.

His face was muddy, and scarred. His dark clothes were ripped and torn. But all the same, he still had his spirit. “You remember what I taught you?” He asked her.

Salandra blinked at him. “How to fly,” she repeated back his words from so long ago.

His eyes shone brilliantly, an evil glint in his eyes. “Let’s get out of here.” He handed her the sunhat. It was drenched and floppy, but at least it wasn’t dirty. At least it wasn’t lost.

She beamed at him, her perfect teeth showing, and she lifted her feet up once more,

Her belief still shown in her mind, clear as day. This was her escape. Her mother and father had wanted this, no matter what the police said. There was a world outside this border, and she was going to see it. Alone, if she had to. Dying, if she had to. Murderous, and insane, if she had to. And here she was. She had achieved her dream. And in front of the very people who had thought she couldn’t do it. Thought she WOULDN’T do it.

Well, they could go die.

She braced herself against the wind, and looked out into the grasslands beyond. Here it came, her official freedom! And she was more excited than she had been when she was escaping the prison. Or the mental hospital, but that was brutal, and it had failed, so she didn’t like to think about that…

But this was it! The last jump. And she braced herself as Gamath linked his arms with hers. And then, no communication required, they jumped in unison, at once. They flew away together, into the sky, and out of sight.

The grass was soft on Salandra’s feet. She hadn’t felt it before, but she didn’t think about it too much. She was out of there, finally! And she was going to get as far away as possible, and never return. She would be happy out here! And she didn’t look back, as she went pelting straight into the supposed wolve’s den.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

((here’s the fellows from my new muse post with drawn refs--

left to right, top to bottom: Leroy, Cerise, Bishop, Duck))

[explorerspack]

thinking about how crop party is generally so high cha and high wis that fásach's 12 is the lowest charisma and cerise's 12 is the lowest wisdom. idk what I'm thinking but I'm thinking

[sabrerine911]

UnholyTriniktober: Wild Altho Beth will mostly be able to control her Werewolf urges she does sometimes slip up when it comes to long forest hunts.And altho Cerise might be Beth's bestie she will still always be very openly grossed out by these more "wild demonstrations", she is a classy lady after all XD