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itsjusthockey · 4 months

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A Nonsense Christmas - Jack Hughes

(Fruitcake EP Series)

Finally.

Enjoy

Comment and interact, love u guys that do. Makes my night

w.c: 2,083 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

“Isn’t this illegal?” You ask, following Jack down through the tunnel of the very dark and very closed Prudential Center. “Or at least frowned upon?”

He snorts in front of you and turns to meet your eyes, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he leans toward you, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Being me has its privileges, baby.”

He throws you a wink, and you roll your eyes as far back as you can as you continue to follow him down toward the devil's locker room. You’ve been to the Devil's barn many times before, but never when it was this late and very obviously closed. This little rendezvous wasn’t your plan. Things that are this extravagant usually aren’t.

You are currently in Jersey, but only for a few days. The hockey world was about to go on break, and Jack had begged you to fly in before you both headed to Michigan for the holidays. You were a bit hesitant, but after a few bribes from your boyfriend, you ended up in Jersey.

Tonight is your first night, and all you want after a long week of finals and a tiring flight is to land face-first in Jack's bed and stay there—Jack has other plans. As soon as you land and drop your stuff in the apartment, he is quick to shoo you out the door again, explaining he has a surprise date night planned after your miserable finals, and you are going to love what he has planned.

At the moment, the only feeling that is plaguing your mind is nervousness. Jack’s too cocky, and he has a slight bounce in his step which usually means he’s up to no good.

You follow behind him diligently, and soon enough, you both enter the locker room. The space is as lovely as you remember it, and you follow Jack over to his stall, which is conveniently next to his baby brothers. You watch with slightly narrowed eyes as he grabs various items from his locker and hands them to you.

It isn’t until he opens his little cubby that everything falls into place. There inside is a brand new box, and when he opens it in front of you, his stupid little smirk grows even wider.

“You like?” He proudly pulls the new Bauer skates from the box, handing one over to you.

You take in the brand new pair of skates. They’re beautiful, custom, and just your size.

“You, sir, are evil.” You give him a false mean glare, but you’re slightly being honest with your statement. “You really bought me skates and trapped me here to force me to ice skate?”

He shrugs his shoulders again, smiling. “Yes, I did.”

You roll your eyes at the boy in front of you. You’ve been together for a while, a long time, and while you’re dating one of the best hockey players in the league, you can’t ice skate for shit. It’s not for a lack of trying; you really have given it your all, but you’ve just had terrible teachers. Jack has tried to teach you many times. Many, many times, to no avail.

The first time, you almost ended up with a trip to the emergency room. The second time you landed so hard on your back, you thought you were paralyzed. The third time, you almost got a concussion. So it’s simple to say you’ve tried your best, but you’ve decided to leave ice skating to the professionals.

“Come on, baby, tonight’s the night, I feel it.”

You follow him out of the locker room toward the ice. You pause when you get there, suddenly feeling a sense of nostalgia. The lights are on in the center ice, and you have to admit it looks serene and slightly beautiful in the late evening. You’ve only ever been here when it is bustling with fans, and you feel a little special getting to see it this way.

“Come on, stop stalling.” Jack teases, patting the bench for you to sit.

You follow him and seat yourself in front of him. He’s smiling big, and he looks ridiculously happy. He’s always like this when he’s here; he has a certain energy when he’s close to a rink. You’d never tell him this, but you love it when he tries to teach you, even if you are wildly nervous.

Jack kneels down, immediately getting to work. You wince slightly as he pulls the skatelaces impossibly tighter around your foot. He quickly loops them around and tucks them into the sides, ensuring there is no possibility of you tripping, which you may or may not have done before.

“There, how’s that?” Jack gently pats your ankle as he looks up at you, still kneeling on the floor.

You shake your feet around, and the brand-new Bauer skates don’t budge a bit; it’s really tight and slightly cutting off blood flow, but you would rather have that than a broken ankle.

“Feels good.”

He smiles again, standing up and grabbing your face. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, then sits next to you, pulling on his own skates. You watch as he tightens them in record speed, and soon enough, he’s launching himself across the boards.

You glare at him as he races around the ice. He skates forward, backward, and even does a little spin. He’s laughing as you’re watching him move around fluidly, and once he’s done, he skates back to you, leaning over the boards where you’re standing, safely behind the danger.

“Stop showing off J, you’re not cute.”

He barks out a laugh at your bitterness, but he smiles sweetly and extends a hand for you to grab. You hesitate, watching his open palm for a minute before you finally pluck up enough courage and swing yourself onto the ice.

As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice, you fall a bit forward, and Jack steadies your waist. You give him another glare when you catch his amused stare. He’s enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, baby, you ready for the basics?”

You nod and watch as your boyfriend goes into full teacher mode. He tells you how to go, how to change directions, and you’re off. You feel pretty good. You haven’t been injured yet, but you seem to be skating better than you ever have. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re on professional ice; maybe their talent is seeping in.

You’re moving pretty fast, actually very fast, and Jack has let go of your hands, letting you glide on your own. It isn’t until you’re getting a little too close that you realize he forgot to reach you, the most essential part of ice skating.

“Wait,” you screech a bit. “How the fuck do I stop!”

Before you can do anything, you smack into the boards and fall on your ass. You hit the ice pretty hard as you go down, and as soon as you fall, you just lay there accepting defeat.

You hear Jack's loud and annoying laughter before he gets to you. He skates up so close, and he hovers above your body, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“You were doing so good. What happened?”

You huff in annoyance, and he holds out his hands to help you up. Once you’re back on your feet, you throw him another glare.

“I’m not having fun.”

He smiles and skates in a bit close, moving to kiss your pout away. He does, and when he pulls his face back, he gently moves a piece of stray hair out of your face.

“You’re doing good. It just takes practice.”

You nod, and a newfound sense of determination fills you. This is just ice skating, literally Jack's job, and you will fucking master it if it kills you. More so, you know for a fact that there is a family skate coming soon, and you want to impress people. You know you have it in you, so you grit your teeth, use Jack to push you, and you’re off again.

An hour later, you’re quite impressed with yourself. You’ve managed to skate around and haven’t fallen once. You’re moving good, and you’re finally able to keep up with Jack to a certain extent.

“You better watch out J, I think the league might replace you with me.”

You wink at him as he watches you proudly, and you can tell this means a lot to him, so even if it means you’ll fall a few times, you’ll do this every day.

“You’re a natural.” He circles you, and you try your best not to knock into him. “You just needed to get out of your head.”

You nod, smilingly, and you both skate for a little longer. Eventually, you grow a bit tired. It’s been a long day, and you find yourself skating toward the devil's bench in search of some much-needed water.

Jack reads your mind and beats you to the bench, swinging himself over and grabbing the water bottle. He grins a little bit and melts your heart. He shakes the water bottle and holds it high. You oblige and tilt your head back as he squirts the water into your mouth. He misses a bit, causing the water to dribble down your chin. You sputter a bit and wipe at your face, playfully glaring at him.

“Oops, my bad," Jack says, chuckling as he wipes the excess water off your cheek with his hand. "Looks like I need to work on my aim."

You shake your head, feigning annoyance, but you can’t help but find his boyish antics endearing.

“You're lucky you're cute," you tease, unable to hold back your laughter.

Jake grins impossibly wider, his eyes twinkling a bit with mischief. "Well, I guess I'll have to make it up to you then."

He reaches out and helps pull you safely off the ice. He makes quick work and cups your face with cold hands, leaning down to kiss you softly.

The familiar tingle of excitement rushes through you as your lips meet, and you melt into his embrace, warming yourself up. His kiss is passionate but sweet and tender; it sends shivers down your spine. The light sounds of the empty area fade, and you find yourself getting lost with him.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull apart, breathless but grinning from ear to ear. Jack's blue eyes sparkled as he looks at you with all the affection in the world.

“Better?" he asks with a smirk, his hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. "Much better," you whisper, unable to hide your adoration for this hockey-playing heartthrob in front of you.

You sigh wistfully and see the twitch of a smile tug at his lips as you cup his jaw and tug him down to meet you in another gentle, lingering kiss. The warmth of his touch sends a rush of emotions through you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Are you hungry?” Jack whispers in your hair.

You nod and loop your arms through his bent elbows, crossing it over his back. You press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he pulls you back toward the locker room. It doesn’t take long for you both to pack up, and you’re very pleased with the successful date night. It isn’t often you get to do things like this, and every time you do, you’re reminded how special your relationship is.

Ten minutes later, you’re packed into the Range Rover, and Jack is speeding toward his favorite late-night burger place. When you pull in, you see the hanging Christmas lights, and you’re reminded of the season. It’s Christmas, and you get to spend time with him, lots of time.

He leads you in hand and hand, and you can’t help but feel utter joy as you eat and spend the rest of the night together. The holdings season is shaping up to be the best yet, and you’re unbelievably excited to spend it by his side.

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raygirlramblings · 6 months

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I just realised something about Laserhawk Rayman which I've been saying about Rayman for DECADES.

So what is Rayman's defining goal which powers him throughout all his games? It's gonna sound corny, but it's FRIENDSHIP.

And you'll say 'oh that's not uncommon, most videogame protags do stuff for the sake of their friends', but it's kinda more than that.

Rayman LIVES AND BREATHES through the love and support of his friends.

Rayman is a strange little freak guy, one of a kind even amongst his own species*, and instead of being shunned and alone he is held up and supported by his friends and propelled forward by the power of friendship. This is more of a driving force in his life than a romantic interest, a prized possession, or any kind of praise.

(*I still use the logic of Rayman 1 that other limbless beings like Rayman exist but were not created by magic. Hence why Rayman has immortality)

On the surface you have his friendship with Globox as a clear example of his devotion. Despite their differences the two are like brothers and bond through various games in different ways. saving and being saved by Globox is a big part of Rayman 2. Curing Globox of Andre is literally the driving force of Rayman 3.

When Rayman is trapped by the pirates at the start of Rayman 2 he is absolutely distraught, powerless and unable to escape on his own. Without Globox risking his life on the vague chance he'd get put in a cell near Rayman to give him a silver lum, Rayman might never have escaped the Buccaneer. Rayman's friendship with Globox trumped Globox's absolute fear of the pirates.

Rayman's friends are always the ones giving him support and gifts and powers to help him save the day, not in a 'you suck lets hold your hand as you go through the game' way but in a 'we have absolute faith in you, friend, anything we can do to help we will!' way. And in turn Rayman returns that love through his actions and compassion. Rayman is who he is because of the love and acceptance of his friends. Hence why he is always seen relaxing with them, chilling with Globox and Barbara and Murfy and the Teensies.

And it's Rayman's willingness to befriend others and turn the other cheek that betters him overall. Mosquito, Inspector Grub, the Rabbids, they have all been part of his journey despite being antagonistic to him at the start.

When Rayman is separated from his friends, or unable to make new friendships, he kinda falls apart and struggles by himself. He gets lonely, realises how small he is in the world. If he doesn't have a focus to find his friends and help them he is lost.

Which makes perfect sense when you see a version of him in Laserhawk.

Rayman is the most popular mascot in Eden but HE DOESN'T HAVE FRIENDS.

The closest connection he has is to the Counsel who run Eden and even they keep him at arm's length from what we see in the show. They are not his friends, they are his abusive, neglectful bosses that dropped him the minute he stepped out of line, and without them Rayman has NO ONE ELSE in the city he can rely on.

No wonder he's a complete mess even before the show starts. He has no one to confide his fears in, no one who understands his unique perspective. He probably has yes-men and people willing to lie about how great he is, not to mention adoring viewers and a whole fanclub of kids, but even Rayman knows that's fake. They are not his real friends. He's the picture of the lonely celebrity in an ivory tower.

You can see it in Rayman's face when he meets Bullfrog, and Bullfrog VALIDATES his feelings of betrayal and anger against Red and the Counsel. Finally he has someone showing him genuine compassion but also not mollycoddling him. Someone who is honest with him and not freaked out by/judgemental of how he looks. He's scared and angry, but there is a light at the end of the dark tunnel before him.

This and being replaced by Eden is the breaking point that causes Ray to become Ramon and fight back. He now has an end goal, take revenge on the Counsel and save Bullfrog from the electric chair. He has multiple reasons for doing this ranging from his belief in protecting hybrids in general to protecting his image to taking away some of Eden's power at gunpoint...but I also like to think he did it because he put his faith in Bullfrog.

Because as well as being one of the only people in Eden who might have an idea of what's going on behind the veil, he's probably the only person Rayman could consider a friend.

#captain laserhawk #Rayman #Ramon #raygirl's ramblings

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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“Hey, Wayne said you refused to talk to the therapist.”

It was day 34 of visiting Eddie in the hospital, and there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. If Eddie would talk to the therapist, he could be released into Wayne’s care.

The therapist spent two hours with him, and apparently got nothing more than some sighs and eye rolls.

“I didn’t like him.”

“Well, we can get you another one.”

“I don’t like them either.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“You haven’t even met them yet.”

“I just know I won’t,” Eddie said as he crossed his arms, hissing when he rubbed against the bandages still covering most of his torso.

“Do you want to stay in the hospital forever?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you just talk to the therapist? You don’t have to tell them everything, just how you’re feeling now.”

“I don’t want to.”

Steve was trying not to get frustrated. He promised Wayne he’d try to talk some sense into him patiently. It was proving to be harder than he thought it would be.

“What is it that you don’t want to tell them?”

“That maybe I did kill Chrissy! That maybe if she had just gone home or I told her no that she’d still be alive! Maybe Vecna would have gone to the next victim and I wouldn’t have to be here in pain!” Eddie was breathing heavily, his heart monitor beeping more rapidly the more he spoke.

Steve didn’t visibly react, though he wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold Eddie, turn back time and pretend that it was possible that Chrissy wouldn’t have died, let Eddie live his life not knowing these horrors existed.

He wanted to be able to scrub the memory of carrying Eddie’s limp and bloody body from his mind so he could go back to his regular nightmares of him dying, not the man he-

“Sorry.”

Steve’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Eddie spoke his apology so softly into the room. It was a direct contrast to how he’d been before, and it was startling.

A thought occurred to Steve, one he hadn’t thought of in at least two years, but felt right now.

“You know, I used to be kind of friends with Chrissy. Not close, but we talked.”

Eddie stared at him curiously, probably wondering where this could be going.

“It was funny. It didn’t happen until I wasn’t popular anymore. I guess that just shows she was a great person.”

“Yeah. She was.”

“I remember I was sitting alone eating lunch. Jason and his crew weren’t there and she walked up to me and said ‘let’s be lonely together for today.’ And I guess that was our thing, being lonely together. It sounds stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound stupid to me.”

Steve looked up and saw Eddie’s wide, wet eyes staring back at him, silently begging him to continue his story. Maybe he needed this.

“It happened a few more times and then we ended up hanging out a few times before graduation. We actually,” Steve paused and bit his lip. This would give a lot away and may end up making things worse for Eddie, but he wanted to believe it would help. “We bonded over our crush on you.”

He let it sit in the air for a moment, eyes refusing to look back up at Eddie.

Until he felt a hand on his.

“You both had a crush on me? Me?!”

“Don’t tell Robin, but she was the first person I came out to. Accidentally. And it wasn’t really coming out so much as admitting I thought you were cute.”

“You thought I was cute?!”

“Well, yeah! Always playing with your hair and doodling during class. Helping the freshman find their classes. Giving those speeches. You were brave.”

“Steve. That’s not bravery.”

“It is when everyone is willing to hurt you because of who you are.”

“I barely ever actually got beat up. Words are just words.”

“We both know that isn’t true.”

Eddie nodded, swallowed, then sighed.

“Yeah. I just didn’t want anyone to feel like me.”

“That’s why we had a crush on you!”

“Well, that’s nice that you bonded over that.”

Steve didn’t like the sudden change in his tone. Like he’d liked hearing the story, but now he realized it didn’t matter.

And maybe it didn’t.

Chrissy was still gone. Eddie still had to watch her die a terrible death.

They were both still traumatized.

But Steve still had a crush on Eddie that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he repressed it.

And maybe that part of the story was something that could change for the better.

“Robin told me I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, she tells all of us that often.”

“But this is about something specific.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I never got over my crush on you. And instead of saying something about it, I just thought I’d forget about it eventually.”

Eddie blinked at him.

“Chrissy once dared me to ask you out. She said when you graduate, I should do it. Just take the risk.

She was pretty sure you were into both anyways.”

“She was right.”

“Yeah, she usually was,” Steve nodded. “But the problem here is you haven’t technically graduated yet.”

“No I haven’t.”

“You could, though.”

“Maybe.”

“But you have to get out of here first.”

“I see what you’re doing, Harrington.”

“What’s that?” Steve smirked and reached out to move Eddie’s hair away from his face.

“Bribing me to graduate with promises of a date.”

“Is it working?”

Eddie sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“Good. So you’ll talk to the therapist tomorrow?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice, I’m just hoping you choose you.” ——————————— When Eddie walked across the stage two months later to get his diploma, Steve was giving him a standing ovation.

He ignored his original plan of flipping off Principal Higgins, he didn’t want more eyes on him than he already had.

He ignored it because now he had a new plan. He was gonna walk off the stage, throw his cap in the air, and then kiss Steve Harrington.

Part 2: Prologue

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson lives #chrissy and steve had a big fat crush on eddie and became friends because of it!!!#a little sad but mostly fluff

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destinysbounty · 4 months

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A lot of people wonder why Zane's sixth sense became less prominent over time, and a number of theories have been thrown around without the fandom ever really reaching a consensus on the matter. So allow me to throw even more gas on the fire by adding my own speculations into the mix!

Looking at the timeline, Zane's sixth sense began to decline shortly after being rebuilt. Of course he did still experience visions for a short while thereafter - the vision of the titanium dragon being an iconic example of this - but then his premonitions gradually became a scarcity over time, to such a point that Jay straight up didn't believe him when he had that vision in s11.

So why did that happen? To answer that question, we first need to talk about Pixal.

In the season 4 episode "Versus", Pixal states that she is fascinated by Zane's ability to dream, and has "always wondered what that's like." Implying that at this point in the series, she wasn't able to dream.

However, her dream sequence in season 11 "A Cold Goodbye" demonstrates that at some point between s4 and s11, she eventually developed the ability to do so.

(Side note: it makes a a little bit emo how Pixal used to think dreams were an amazing thing that she longed to experience - but when we finally see her doing so, she has a nightmare instead.)

Within the context of canon itself, Pixal's dream in this episode is the only instance throughout the series of a nindroid having a non-prophetic dream.

...or is it?

Let's take a closer look at that dream, shall we? Most importantly, the part where Zane slips from her grasp.

Pixal is holding onto him, but she loses her grip and he falls into some sort of vortex/tunnel of light and cloud. And yes, of course, my Pixane-loving heart is aching at the sight of this - but pay close attention to the appearance of the vortex itself.

Look familiar? No? I'll give you a clue.

Yeah, you're seeing that right. The vortex from Pixal's dream is uncannily similar to the Never Realm portal that opens up at the end of that same episode.

For those of you who haven't seen s11 in a while, allow me to clarify exactly why that's so remarkable: Pixal had this dream before they opened the portal, before they even knew Zane was actually alive. Somehow, within her dreams, Pixal managed to construct a replica of the Never Realm portal without even knowing it existed.

Like, really sit and think on that for a minute. Pixal had a dream in which Zane falls into a strange vortex that just so happens to look like the portal to the Never Realm. Y'know, the same portal Zane got blasted through just an episode prior. Without Pixal herself being aware that this had happened to him.

Do I think it's a coincidence that Pixal's dream just happened to represent Zane's true fate with an eerie level of accuracy - that he hadn't died, but instead been lost in a portal to another realm? You're certainly welcome to think so, but I sure don't.

So here's what I think happened: in season 4, Zane placed Pixal's neural drive into his processor. From that point on until season 7, they effectively shared a brain. Maybe the experience of sharing the same mind for such an extended period of time caused them to inadvertently...share Zane's sixth sense as well . Maybe it slowly began to split between them. Zane's ability would slowly decline over time as portions of it bled into Pixal - while Pixal slowly developed the ability to "dream", unaware of exactly what that ability entailed.

This would explain a number of things:

Why Zane's premonitions become much more scarce from s4 onward.

Why Pixal is suddenly able to have dreams in s11 when she wasn't able to before - and why that dream is so uncannily prophetic.

Why the Scroll reacted to Pixal. Given the fact that it didn't react to Kai, we can assume it doesn't do anything when someone without any kind of power holds it. which suggests that Pixal has some kind of power (be it prophetic or otherwise).

(Of course, that last point is dependent on the validity of certain interpretations of how spinjitzu, forbidden spinjitzu, and elemental power work within canon. And yes, you can rest assured I have theories for that too. But I'm still fine-tuning the kinks to that theory, so don't ask me to explain just yet.)

If this is true, I highly doubt anyone has realized that this premonition-sharing happened at all. Zane probably just assumes his decline in prophetic ability was caused by the spiritual damage he sustained in his fight with the Overlord (which is another viable theory), and Pixal simply assumes that her newfound ability to dream is a result of her developing humanity. Meanwhile the rest of the team is none the wiser.

#im very proud of this theory so if someone like tannerfishies beat me to it then i will CRY #ninjago #zane julien #zane ninjago #pixal borg #pixal ninjago #ns11 #destiny post

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1-49 · 21 days

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hotter than your instincts

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung ⁝ tags: nighttime. trains. angst. lack of confidence. pining. jealous/obsessive tendencies. 1.3k

No matter how much you come to his mind, you aren’t his. Train in, train out... Night in, night out. The girl who rides the 10 p.m. train every day.

Concrete platforms, tiled walls, and lights that look like they could go out at any time add to the ominous atmosphere. Pretty much just lone winds blowing between entrances at these hours; hardly any trains. It is hard not to notice you in such brutality.

There is nothing more to explain his gradual transition from morning to evening swimming lessons than his intense desire to keep running into you. That he is taking such a big risk with his serious forte is absurd.

Tonight of all nights, he’s sitting the closest he has ever sat to you, so it seems as though he is most vulnerable to the ‘here we go agains’ and the ‘I won’t give into my own dreams & wishes,’ but he is unable to avoid them. From the other side of the bench, he can sense your breath and imagine your lips meeting his for that fleeting moment before ur head turns to divert attention to the train approaching from the far & opposite platform.

Save for a few shy smiles & acknowledgements of his presence, you never say anything to him. Your eyes never remain locked for longer than necessary, & ur hands never come into contact.

In actuality, though, Chanyoung doesn’t require much since he loves your silence. Seemingly mysterious & cool, but mostly, he loves the way your quietness sounds, just like his.

But then the ‘how could he ever possibly get to yous’ start to creep in, knowing full well that there’s always ‘that’ other guy on the other end of the line. The guy who’s waiting for you and to whom you belong. The guy who stays in your heart forever and always calls to check on you while you’re returning home. The guy who stays on the phone every night to hear about your joys and your sorrows equally. Anton knows he can’t compete with that.

Watching the last trains of the day pass by while you two sit in silence is strangely soothing—that is, until you get that phone call.

Night in, night out. In those moments, all the subterranean beauty blurs, and his chest gets bruised. His most beautiful smile fades away, and he’s only left to wonder what it would have been like if you were his girlfriend.

Everything feels so empty and miserable when you’re on that nightly-clockwork call with him at 10:10 p.m. and Chanyoung is there, supposed to hold it through.

You’re the reason why he’s clenching his fist so hard inside his hoodie and his nails are digging into his flesh.

Given his adorable and compassionate nature, it’s difficult to envision him harboring negative thoughts. But there it is again, another glimpse of him beating his fist against a concrete wall, because how many phone calls from ‘him’ does Chanyoung really need to count to be certain he will never have a chance with you?

That you cause his heart to race like a train, and his hands to shake, you will never know. And as he listens to your talk, it is as though he’s running off the tracks.

“Sorry, babe, think my phone’s dying.”

???? He finds it difficult to believe what you are saying, and it almost sounds like something out of his fantasies. A fantasy in which he’s strong enough to control the things that hurt his heart, but in actuality, he isn’t.

However, you sigh visibly & end the call, looking at your phone’s screen and probably checking the battery... What if tonight is finally the night the universe is on his side?

Your eyes move from your phone to your feet, then to the empty train tunnel, and then to him. It’s unimaginable that you’re now considering him worthy of a cursory glance.

He looks down at his feet shyly, and his bangs start to slide more into his eyes as he fixes his gaze on the floor. If only he had more courage.

But as soon as you announce, “We’ve been taking the same train every day,” out of nowhere, his gaze lifts to meet you right away, and even if he’s surprised, his empathetic eyes stay glazed with hope.

With a smile on his face, he murmurs, “Yes,” the purest, softest ‘yes’ to ever be spoken.

That he likes to think you can love him all raw and exposed is foremost a dream. But a dream that becomes real as it’s written all over his face, and one that, had you not been so blindly in love, would have been so evident.

As he ponders whether to say anything at all or to stay silent, you smile at him.

And because of you, every butterfly he owns is now trying to pull away from his core. He finds himself wishing he had a plan on how to make his dream of you come true, but he is caught unprepared.

You randomly comment, “I like your shirt,” while pointing teasingly at the undershirt he is wearing. But seriously, who puts themselves on their shirt?

From the tone in your voice, he believes if there had been another choice, you’d prefer his shirt off, not on. Still, it’s a moron nightmare!

“Oh, that...” Chanyoung remarks, along with a little, warm laugh that escapes his fragile, flustered lips as he zips up his hoodie, completely forgetting what his friends at the pool made him wear today after he lost a bet. At least he has your attention, even though the whole thing makes him look like a total fool.

“Cute,” you say as your thumbs poke through the holes in your knit sweater’s sleeve. “Not everyone has a high fashion sense,” you add in response, making another cuteful compliment.

Again, perhaps he’d have known how to react to that if he hadn’t been so bashful and innocent. Therefore, all he responds with is a smile.

The small talk quickly dies down as a result. A new silence descends.

The kind of quiet where your faint smile and your silence hang over him like an anchor, but instead of letting him drown, you ground him.

What if he is only good for this? Sitting on the other end of the bench and yearning for you silently? If he had no competition, though the situation would be ideal.

But this is beyond his control, isn’t it?

Your gaze darts to the departure board as you sort through your forgotten thoughts that never meet the tip of your tongue. The train seems to be running a little over two minutes late. Chanyoung gives you another shy glance through his bangs. And when you pull the raw skin off your lips, continuing the seconds and sucking nervous umm’s between your teeth, you cause his heart to twist between his ribs. You have no mercy!

The train you’re both riding on speeds through the tunnel at this same instant, making matters worse before he has a chance to say anything more—not that he believes he’d have anyway. The sound of thunder rumbles across the tracks, and he opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes out...

Once more, the train entirely crashes into his dream... Blurry fragments scatter all around.

The train’s engine is huffing and the wheels are churning out a steady rhythm of his ‘please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,’ as you say an unfazed, “Here he is,” as the train pulls into the platform. To believe you are selfish would be to underestimate his love & kindness for you.

It’s absolutely bizarre—the way, for yet another night in a row, he’s blaming the guy in your phone for everything and the fact that you two aren’t together. You have ruined him in every rational way. His sound ideas and beliefs have long been tainted. Between tenderness & love, the lust of all blurs the boundaries...

As you rise from the bench, the feeling of muscle memory coats him in your toxins—your sweet toxins—an odour he’s so fond of, so impossible to resist.

He is coaxed by you, for you—and despite his intense desire to be close to you, to be in your presence, to laugh and run through these platforms & eerie train halls holding your hand inside his, reality appears to be telling him something quite different. Something he is unwilling to hear, even though he knows it.

#riize #riize x reader #anton x reader #lee chanyoung #riize x y/n #riize scenarios #riize imagines #anton x y/n #riize angst #anton angst #chanyoung x reader #anton scenarios #anton imagines #riize fic #riize fanfic #riize x you #anton fanfic

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futbol16 · 10 months

Text

Just an FYI • Ana-Maria Crnogorčević

Request: can I please request jealous protective anamaria over R?

Word count: 3k

Going into the Champions league semi final you were quite surprised to see that Barca would be going up against Arsenal. Nonetheless, you were excited. Especially because of how the last games ended two years ago. You knew the reds have improved their team and game a lot since then, but that didn’t stop you from picturing all the goals your team would send soaring past Zinsberger.

You sat next to your usual bus buddy, Ana, on the way to the stadium and the two of you spent the bus ride laughing and sharing the snacks you were allowed to eat.

“How many goals do you think we’ll score?” she questions with the same cheeky smile on her face that you are wearing, the both of you more than ready for the match.

“I reckon 2, maybe 3.” you nod confidently, following your statement by your own question. “What would you predict for the end result?”

“3-0” she shrugs nonchalantly and you chuckle at her antics, leaning into her side more. Your cheeks are dusted with a light pink shade as Ana keeps an arm around you.

“Okay, 3-1 if we get unlucky.” You can only nod along to her words, knowing that the team is in its best form and a strong Arsenal won’t stop you from scoring.

Walking out into the tunnel already clad in your Barca jersey you take your place behind Jana. Your focus is solely on the pitch just outside the tunnel but you’re also aware of the stares of some players from the Arsenal line to your right.

You breathe in deeply to calm your nerves and then you slowly exhale. Ana senses your slight distress from behind you and without a second thought she slides her hand into yours, giving it a squeeze. It seems like her gesture has the desired effect because the pounding of your heart is becoming less intense and you feel more at ease. Your thumb rubs over her knuckles in appreciation and the Swiss international’s heart swells at it. Just as quickly as her hand slipped into yours, you let go of it though and Ana’s eyes snap down to your hand in confusion, only to then be nudged from behind and she realizes the team has started walking out.

The game is intense to say the least. It is apparent that even without Vivianne and Beth, Arsenal are more than capable of creating chances. Barca is doing good too and although the possession remains mostly in your team’s, Arsenal’s defense is proving to be hard to get through.

You’re experiencing it first hand because as soon as you're near the penalty box, a certain defender takes you out in some way or another. Every single time. More than half of these tackles have been borderline fouls which frustrates you and your team on no end. Irene and Ana can barely contain themselves enough to not spring into action and give the defender a bit of their own medicine.

The first time you were brutally side tackled, her boots catching a bit of your ankles, you thought you knew who it was. The flash of the red jersey and the aggression of the tackle is one you’ve experienced from an Arsenal defender before. However, when you catch sight of the name on her back, you’re beyond surprised to see it’s not McCabe who’s been trying to end your career.

“Bloody hell, what has gotten into her?!” you mutter under your breath as Ana helps you up and the referee finally blows her whistle. There’s a fire in Ana’s eyes as she glares at Catley, one that you recognize in every other Barca player’s eyes too. They’re all ready for revenge. It’s a well known fact about Barcelona, any Barca team. If they mess with one if you, they won’t come out alive.

“What? Ref that was nothing, it was the ball! The ball!” Steph shouts in fury, mimicking a ball with her hands.

“You might need glasses, honey.” Mapi retaliates and while Ingrid tries to stifle her laugh, Ana next to you doesn’t hold back. The referee interferes before it can go any further and hands the ball to Irene, telling her that the team is going to be awarded a free kick. Steph Catley’s expression falters slightly as she watches the ref write her name on the yellow card.

“You confident to take it?” she raises an eyebrow with a small smile, knowing just how much you enjoyed shooting from long distances.

As you stand behind the ball just halfway in between the halfway-line and the penalty area, your eyes rake over the players scattered around in front of the goal. Your gaze connects with Ingrid’s and all you need is the small nod she gives you before you’re sending the ball into another dimension with the force you kick it with. The Arsenal players expected you to line your shot up for a header but when the ball goes soaring above them and straight into the goal, they stare after it with wide eyes, their bodies still in a position that tells you they were ready to head the ball away. Dumbfounded, that’s what they were. All of them.

In an instant you’re surrounded by the team as you do a knee slide in celebration before getting into the group hug.

“I fucking told you they weren’t ready for you!” Ana shouts in your face as she touches her forehead to yours and you laugh at her words while your body heats up. Even as the team moves back into position, the winger stares after you with a prideful look.

Your happiness is short lived because barely fifteen minutes later and just before halftime, Frida manages to slot the ball into the goal, just out of reach for Panos.

Despite the equalizer, the girls' heads are held high as you head to the locker room, ready for the halftime speech Jonatan would be giving.

Ana-Maria’s hand subtly resting on your thigh grounds you enough to absorb everything the coach says like a dehydrated plant. Ana on the other hand, keeps most of her focus on you during those fifteen minutes and she doesn’t miss the pink tint of your cheeks as her thumb grazes your skin just below your shorts.

Truthfully, the two had been dancing around your feelings for each other since the start of the season. It started when the team was out for team bonding and you ended up dancing with a girl at the bar - far too intimately you had to admit. It resulted in endless teasing from your friends and a scowl on Ana’s face. You didn’t understand why she was upset, and for the first few days neither did Ana. But as the weeks went by and her urge to be closer to you only grew, she had come to the realization that she had strong feelings for you.

You shared these feelings, you’ve always found Ana attractive but you were scared to shoot your shot with the older woman, scared of the embarrassment you’d feel when you would be rejected. The blonde never made a move on you either, only giving small signs here and there that weren’t enough to give you a clear indication as to how she felt. She has only recently gotten as touchy as she was now, her hand rarely leaving you.

The second half of the game is a hard fought one. Frida and Stina are on the move any chance they get and Steph still hasn’t given up on trying to sprain your ankle. In spite of their clearly good advances on goal, your team has switched up their strategy as well. Zinsberger can’t catch a break in goal with each shot Caro and you send her way, and you’re proud to say that Sandra has stayed clean in your goal. The defenders are working extra hard to keep the ball away from the penalty box.

Just as the clock hits the 60’th minute mark, Ana sends a through ball that ends up in front of Aitana’s feet who continues the pass towards you. You know you have to make a quick decision before Catley comes pouncing on you. Pass or shoot. The ball is still in the air. Pass or shoot. The red of Steph’s shirt appears in your peripheral vision, you can’t let her close. Shoot.

With a jump, your back still facing the Arsenal goal, your foot connects with the ball in an overhead shot. On your descent towards the ground you merely manage to crane your neck and watch as Zinsberger attempts to punch it over the crossbar.

You aren’t given a second to react before a body lands on you, many following behind and you lay under the pile of blaugrana players with a satisfied grin on your lips.

“VAMOOSSS!!”

The switch flips after that and Barca take advantage of Arsenal’s momentary discouragement. Another shot fires into the back of the goal, courtesy to Caroline and you don’t even bat an eye at the way Steph barrels into you when the game is resumed because it is only five minutes after that when the full time whistle is blown. Barca is through to the final.

You ignore the Arsenal players around you and the crowd as you dance around in happiness with your teammates, celebrating the win.

“3-1 like I told you.” Ana winks at you and you roll your eyes at her.

“It’s not like I said it would be different.” she chuckles at you and then breaks out in a laugh when you gently shove her.

Once everything has calmed down a bit, you shake hands with the one red player you haven’t shaken hands with. You’re surprised when you’re pulled into a hug by the defender but you pat her back anyway. Steph pulls back from you though she keeps her hands on your biceps and looks you over with a smirk.

“You made my job extra hard today, you know.” she informs you as her thumbs rub into your bicep and you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah well I didn’t know the yellow card McCabe’s spirit would possess you.” The Australian throws her head back as she laughs and her hands slide lower on your arm before her fingers graze over yours.

You barely resist from pulling back from her touch, mildly uncomfortable in the situation you’ve found yourself in with the defender who’s been trying to separate your ankles from the rest of your legs.

“Do you want to swap shirts?” the heavy accent rings out close to your face and she doesn’t give you time to answer as she pulls the shirt over her head. You can’t refuse now though. Steph’s hands play with your Barca kit but she’s quick to put it on once you’ve handed it to her.

Steph’s eyes remain glued to your toned abdomen as she continues lightly praising the way you’ve played. Just as her fingertips are about to make contact with where she’s been staring, a hand slides across your torso.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding as you recognize the arm and your body relaxes into hers. Ana’s hand remains on the waistband of your shorts, clearly displaying not only her protectiveness but also rubbing it into the defender’s face when her fingers softly scratch the skin of your abdomen, soothing you more than possible.

Steph’s eyes finally part ways with your abs and her head snaps back up to your face. You almost laugh at the frightened look that washes over her expression.

“Everything okay here?” That's not a question, all three of you know that.

The Swiss international stares her down, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes but Steph can tell none of them are good. The brunette clears her throat in discomfort, averting her eyes back to yours as she rushes out a goodbye.

“It was nice to meet you - well formally, you know, apart from the many tackles.” she huffs out a laugh but stops when Ana raises a daring eyebrow, urging her to finish.

“Erm, well thank you for the shirt and goodluck in the final” the Australian almost squeaks out and you decide to cut her some slack as you give her a quick hug. Still, the blonde’s hand remains on the small of your back and she gives Steph one last glare over your shoulder before the defender practically sprints back to her own team. Ana snorts at that and you lift your gaze to meet the older woman.

“Thank you” you tell her sincerely as you lean into her side and you discreetly press a small kiss to her shoulder. The winger’s face heats up right in front of you for the first time ever and she struggles to say anything for a second. A smile forms on your lips as you see her all flustered. You’d be lying if you said your knees weren’t close to giving out from the softness of her eyes and the seemingly star struck expression on her face.

“I’ll go catch up with Ingrid and Frida, okay? I will see you after” you give her arm a squeeze and Ana nods at you. She stares after you as you join your national teammates while you struggle to pull on the shirt and she chuckles under her breath when Ingrid gives you a helping hand.

“Du bist eifersüchtig” A voice speaks up next to her and Ana jumps slightly. Lia grins at her with a knowing look and Ana can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Nein.”

“Ja. Don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was just now. Oh and the hand holding before the game?” the Swiss women share a look and then Ana sighs in defeat as she finally pulls her national teammate into a hug. However, she is quick to redirect the topic as she instead opts to ask about how her friend has been doing since the last time they’ve seen each other.

A few minutes later both teams start heading inside and you hug Frida goodbye as you detach from your Norwegian group. You lean your head on Ana’s shoulder, who without your knowledge glances down at you with a fond smile.

“Hi Lia” you greet the Swiss Arsenal player and she hugs you.

“I also better get going. See you next time” she tells the two of you and then she gives Ana a teasing smirk who thinks she knows what her friend is about to say. “Sag ihr, dass du sie liebst!” the confusion on your face is one she expected but the blonde next to you had been totally caught off guard by what she said. But, a second later, she does give a small, shy nod.

“Come, let’s not make them wait.” you follow the blonde into the changing room and then onto the bus.

It doesn’t come as a surprise to you when by the time the bus leaves the car park, half the team is passed out and deep in sleep. The dark sky outside the window can only hint as to just how late it is. You’re sitting next to Ana in one of the last rows in the bus, like usual.

Unlike the rest of your friends though, the two of you are wide awake. You’ve always been known to be very energetic so you can’t even think of resting your eyes. Meanwhile, Ana-Maria next to you is deep in thought about what Lia had told her.

You linking your pinkies together is what breaks her out of her trance and she turns to you. The dimmed lights of the bus give you a halo and as the light from the street lamps shine through the window Ana recognizes the glimmer in your eyes.

“What’s got you lost?” you whisper, mindful of all the girls who are sleeping around you. The blonde’s eyes are dark with desire and the urge to tell you everything. She swallows hard as you patiently wait for her to say something.

“Look Y/N/N, I just really-” she stops mid sentence, wondering if it was the right thing to tell you. You reach out with one hand to cup her cheek gently, bringing her gaze to meet yours again.

“You really what?” Ana opens her mouth again and her eyelids flutter at the way her body heats up when your thumb strokes over her cheek. She has never felt so flustered around someone. She can feel your breath fanning against her face, only now noticing that she has subconsciously leaned closer to you. “Ana?”

“I really like you” she chokes out and she’s ready to panic but your soft touch calms her slightly. “Actually, maybe I'm in love with you. I don’t know if that’s a wrong thing, I get it if you don’t feel the same way. Just like, an FYI” she rambles in a hushed tone and you swear you’ve never seen her act so nervous.

The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy however and you’re overwhelmed with joy knowing that the Swiss woman feels the same way you do.

“Ana, I’m in love with you too” you tell her softly - although truthfully you thought it was obvious - and her eyes meet yours. The adoration in your gaze makes her blush deeper and you smile at her, your own face heating up at the close proximity as well as the confession.

“Just an FYI” the two of you giggle quietly and you press your face into her neck to muffle the sound. Ana lets you stay there for a second before she eases your head back and her eyes move to your lips. Your mouth falls open in anticipation and you gently squeeze her thigh.

“Can I?” Ana breathes out.

“You know you can” is all it takes for Ana to dive right in and claim your lips. You softly gasp into the kiss, your senses heightened and utterly in love with the way she kisses you so passionately, like she’s been waiting for decades. It’s only for a second that you pull away to take a breath and then you’re back in, lips molding together and moving against each other in a fervent yet loving way, uncaring of the people around you.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Ana whispers against your lips while your fingers tangle in her hair.

“I’ve wanted you to do this for so long.”

#ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #woso imagine #futbol16 #woso x reader

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everythingelseisextra · 10 months

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Those Nights

Request: No. Description: On clear nights, you choose to leave your bed with Tommy and watch the stars. A miscommunication is made, and a new routine is born from it. Warnings: Language, sexual implications Word Count: 1356 Author's Note: Loosely inspired by @dearshelby's post on historical characters not being particularly Therapized(tm). I wanted to write a quiet fic about how Tommy might react to a small conflict. Of course, I made the reader character the world's best communicator, which I hope isn't too irritating.

You don’t sleep anymore. Not on clear nights like this.

The balcony opens onto ink, speckled with light, a midnight city pulled into the obscure blush of gray and black and faint yellows and oranges. Smog clears and suddenly you’re drowning in the ocean of a blackened world overgrown with pinpricks of light. You lean your head back and stare up, and you melt into the endless. Souls echo the world around them, and yours, on nights like these, feels like the day you fell in love. Clear and bright and hopeful, like anything is possible.

You wonder about the tunnels. About cave ins and claustrophobia, about the constant stench of stagnant water and the rot of feet stepping through it. About the ache of his back as he crouches to slowly kick clay, trying desperately to make it out alive, to survive another night. You wonder if it was overwhelming to finally breathe fresh air, to look up at an open world and know that, soon, he'll have to go back under. You wonder if the dead fear the sky.

As if on cue, the door to the bedroom behind you opens. You sense him before you see him. Exhaustion radiates off of him, so tired it feels as though he’s eating himself trying to rest, cannibalistic desperation. You close your eyes and feel his presence move next to you. He’s warm. Hot, even, as though he’d been sweating.

Silence hovers between you, perfect, cool and untouchable. It’s a quiet you have had to learn how to break over time, because he never will. So brave, and yet too timid to reach out, to seek some form of comfort or help, that you’re always the one to ask.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yep.” A pause. Still with your eyes closed, you feel him shift away from you, step aside on the balcony. The precipice of vulnerability. The space between you looms. “You were out here.”

“Enjoying the night,” you confirm, and open your eyes to look at him. Your heart sinks. He’s pale, even more so than usual, and the shadows under his eyes sink deep into his skin. Though he’s steady, face set in a neutral expression, you know better. There’s a slight puffiness to his eyes that tell you he’s been crying. More than a nightmare.

He nods. His jaw tightens, then relaxes. When he looks up, the stars reflect in his eyes, like sparks through the ice, burning despite the cold.

You decide to ask, to try to coax something like an explanation from him, to at least show him that you know him. “What else happened?”

“Nothing,” he answers immediately.

“No, not nothing. There’s something. I can see it.” You hesitate, then place a hand on the balcony railing between you, an offer. “I can feel it.”

“Always the empath, aren’t you?” His voice hardens, his eyes flick down to the city around you. Defending himself from your prying, shutting you down, tightening the hatches. You know this game, after years of being with him. And, although it’s a strange way of thinking, you know how to win it.

“I just know you.” You leave your hand there, holding onto the wood of the railing, fingers gently tracing the grain. “Not an empath. Just your partner.”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Tom, you sound like a child.” You hide a smile. It’s a good thing his pettiness and asshole tendencies make you laugh. Your relationship would have ended years ago if they didn’t. “It is my business if you’re going to sulk for days because I didn’t read your mind.”

He scoffs, then sobers. Quiet for a moment, staring down at his crossed arms, the fluff of his hair falling over his eyes. “I wake up from a tunnel and you aren’t there.”

Oh. You take a deep breath and stare out at the city lights, the little glints of heat in the Birmingham cold. You are fluent in his language, and it’s your job to translate him, put into words what he likely never will be able to.

“You felt abandoned by me because you were alone when you woke up.”

“Sounds fucking pathetic.”

“Sounds human. You’re human, remember?” You nudge his shoulder, trying to coax a smile from him and failing.

Again, his jaw tightens. There’s still something he’s holding onto.

“And… It scares you. Being alone in the dark again.” You shrug. “It makes sense. I’m sorry. I get wrapped up in the world.”

“I’m not scared of the dark.”

“I know you’re not. I think you are scared of being left alone again. After Grace.”

That was the last straw, apparently. He turns and starts back towards the bedroom, arms still crossed, walking with that hunter’s walk he’s developed over the years. You follow him and grab his arm, stopping him.

“Look, you need to talk to me. It doesn’t need to be much.” You pull his arm so he turns to face you. Blue eyes stare defiantly into yours, almost childlike in their anger. “Haven’t I earned that much from you?”

“You’re right. You’re always bloody right.” He almost spits the words, then calms, taking a huffing breath. “We made a promise. We said we’d be there.”

Defensiveness spikes in you, makes you open your mouth to retort, but you hesitate, think it through. When you do speak, the words land softly. You can’t engage with him, can’t fall to his level of accusations and insults. “I know. Sometimes I won’t be able to be there. I can learn, though. I can listen to you. I won’t leave you alone at night, then. I’ll just open the windows so I can feel the air. Is that an okay compromise?”

His eyes flick around you, taking in the nocturnal grandeur around you, the natural and unnatural starlight, the faint gray haze of the coming dawn. Finally, they land back on you, and he gives a slight shake of his head. “Wake me.”

“What?”

“On nights like this. Wake me. No need for a compromise.”

You smile a little. “You’d sacrifice your precious sleep for me?”

His expression turns sly, the closest he gets to flirty these days. His head tilts and he looks at you sideways, matching your smile. “Haven’t I already?”

You take him by the wrist and pull him towards you. “Yes. Would you consider wasting some more time with me tonight?”

His eyes drift, slowly moving their way down your body, drinking you in, and the cool night air flows around you, chilling your bones and contrasting to the faint heat on your cheeks. He pulls you in and gently, so gently, kisses you. You smile against him, one hand reaching up to hold him, the other resting on his hip. You sway there, then, when you can’t stand the earnestness of the moment, you gently push him back towards the bedroom.

“We can have some fun.” You smile at him, toying with the hem of your shirt, then the waistline of your pants. “Be good and go lie down for me, won’t you?”

Falling into the usual routine of him, for once in his life, letting go of some control, he steps back, eyes stuck on yours. “Yes, love.”

From then on, when the nights clear out and the moon shines through the cracks in the shutters, you roll onto your side and stare over at him. Eyelashes long, eyes moving beneath pale eyelids, dreaming, breathing slow and steady. The old tattoo on his shoulder that you consider the mark of a tragedy. Sometimes, you choose to let him sleep, curling into his side and drifting back off. But, mostly, you crawl on top of him, straddling him and slowly letting your weight grind down on him until he wakes. It’s gentle, and his sleep is deep, but when his eyes blink open, he looks up at you, and you watch his pupils slowly expand.

“One of those nights?” He murmurs, resting his hands on your hips, slipping his thumbs beneath your shirt.

“One of those nights,” you confirm, and lean down to kiss him.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon

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nichuuu · 1 year

Text

Yeowooya

Tags: Smut, creampie, facial, handjob, teasing, subby joy, doggy, riding, fluff(?) Word count: 6k++

The clacking of your keyboard filled the empty office. Your eyes throbbed in their sockets, begging you for some sort of rest from your computer screen. The minute hand of the clock was slowly approaching the 12 mark on the clock, it would be 1 am soon. Regardless, you were determined to put in those extra hours and finish this damn proposal. With a sip of some extra strong coffee, you let the caffeine take over your senses. You mindlessly typed away, words appearing on the document faster than your mind could process.

Your teammates had gone out drinking again. Unlike them, you had a sense of responsibility in you, so you were the one who stayed to finish the last leg of the proposal. While your so-called “teammates” were busy celebrating god knows what, you were slaving away in your space, fingers achy and joints sore.

“Wow… Hard working as ever…”

You looked up. A familiar face smiled back at you over the cubicle.

“Not now Soo-young,” You huffed, looking back at your screen. From your peripheral vision, you saw the woman pout.

“Aw… Why so grumpy?” She teased you. You glared at her.

“I said: Not now,” You repeated yourself. Joy rolled her eyes.

“Fine…” She sighed. Her head disappeared behind the wall of your prison, re-appearing from the entrance to your cubicle.

“Is it me? Or does this place get messier and messier each time I visit?” She mused.

“Keep your hands off my shit,” You warned her, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I’ll do what I please, thank you.”

You heard her rummaging through some papers on your desk. You wanted to whip around and just let her have it right there, but you were so close to completing your task. Forcing yourself to stay laser focused, you pushed yourself a little more. Your fingers moved faster, the frequency of the clacking increasing. At some point, you felt Soo-young looking over your shoulder, watching silently as words appeared on screen. Then she went back to poke her nose into the papers on your desk.

“Damn… This paper was dated 2 years ago!” You heard her mutter. “He really needs to sort his shit out…”

More rustling came from behind you. You were on the final stretch now, just a few more sentences left. You could feel your heart beating faster in excitement as you made your way towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

Alas, you typed out the final word. A rather loud yell of victory left your mouth as you saved your work. You crashed back in your chair, feeling more relieved than you’d ever had before.

“Oh my god… Never again…” You grimaced, massaging your tired eyes.

“This all seems like a you problem not gonna lie,” Joy chimed in. You opened your eyes.

“Joy… Please shut the fuck up,” You requested. In response, she dragged your chair out and spun you in a circle. You yelped, quickly planting your feet down in the ground to stop yourself. God forbid those 4 cups of coffee came out of you.

“You’re done with your work! Stop being a grumpy old fart!” Soo-young reminded you. You sighed.

“Stop nagging. You remind me of my Eomma,” You told her. She scoffed.

“Maybe you should take better care of yourself. That way I can stop taking care of you like you’re a little kid,” Joy retorted. You wanted to argue against her statement, but she had a fair point.

“Fair enough,” You relented.

“That’s what I thought bitch boy,” She sneered playfully. You chuckled.

You weren’t sure how to describe your relationship with Soo-young. You started off as complete strangers to each other, strangers that worked 2 desks away and always seemed to go to the same spot for lunch everyday. One fine day, she sat down next to you in the middle of a meeting—she was half an hour late—and introduced herself to you. You spent the long hours of the meeting entertaining yourselves in hushed, clandestine conversations, stopping only when your boss turned back to face the zombie crowd. At the end, you made yourself a new friend and exchanged numbers with her.

Months passed. You got closer to Soo-young, close enough to call her what all her friends called her.

“They call me Joy,” She told you one morning over some doughnuts and coffee.

“Joy?” You mused. She shrugged.

“Yea… I never really understood why, but the name stuck.”

You would come to understand why with time. She truly lived up to her namesake, her bright, contagious smile and her amusing personality making her a true Joy to be around. You liked her company, it made the office feel like less of a slave plantation.

Your relationship with her was simple up til Christmas day. She invited you back to her place for a couple of drinks after an office party, and you gladly obliged. A few jokes, some snacks and quite a few glasses of wine later, your clothes were discarded together with Joy’s and you were taking her against the window of her apartment. After your fling with her that night, you two made a mutual agreement: What happened would be a one time thing. You were friends, simple as that.

However, neither of you really kept to the first part of the agreement. It was broken just a few weeks after when Joy pulled you into a storage room and sucked your cock.The she proceeded to take your cock up her pussy, your hand clasped around her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her moans. You broke the agreement two months later, guiding her away from the poolside party at a friends house, ripping her bikini off her and fucking her senseless in the guest bathroom. Since then, sex with Joy happened almost on a weekly basis—sometimes a monthly basis if you two were really busy. No real feelings had manifested for Joy, and Joy certainly didn't seem interested to enter a relationship with you of all people. Hence, the two of you declared yourselves friends with benefits.

“Why are you still in the office?” You asked Joy, powering off your monitor. Soo-young sighed.

“Had to file my team’s paperwork again…” She lamented. “I really hate these slackers.”

“Same here,” You chuckled bitterly. “I just keep saving their asses over and over again while they go out drinking every other night… Ridiculous if you ask me.”

Joy laughed, clearly sharing a common sentiment.

“Should’ve just shredded all the papers… Let those fucks rot for all I care,” Joy mused.

“We’re on the last leg of the proposal submissions… Presentations are tomorrow,” You reminded her. Joy nodded.

“Yep… Which is exactly why I plan on calling in sick tomorrow,” She said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

Joy scoffed.

“We’re the same. We both stay for long hours in the office saving our team’s asses, but we get zero recognition at the end of it all cause it’s a ‘group effort’,” Joy lamented. “I’ve been doing all the work. I want to see how they pitch the proposal without me tomorrow.”

You smirked.

“You’re more cunning than I thought,” You mused. She winked.

“I’ve got lots of ideas up here,” She said, tapping her head. “You know, maybe you should call in sick tomorrow too…”

You shook your head.

“As much as I want to let my team burn to the ground, I don’t see myself doing that,” You told her honestly. Joy groaned.

“Oh my god! You and your morals!” She sighed. “Have a little fun! You certainly seem to be able to put aside your little moral compass when we fuck.”

“But that’s because… Because… Uh…” You struggled to argue.

“Because what huh?” Joy pressed. “Because you like using my tight little body and ravishing my ass? Is that it?”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t want to let her win just like that.

“And what if that is the reason? What are you gonna do, Joy?” You challenged her. Joy stared at you for a moment. Her brows furrowed, visibly deep in thought.

“Alright then,” She finally said after some time. “If that really is the reason… I pitch you an offer.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Let’s hear it.”

Joy leaned against your desk.

“If you call in sick with me tomorrow, I’ll let you fuck me tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing there’s a catch?” You prompted. She grinned.

“But of course,” She replied. “If you fuck me tonight. You have to come to the beach with me tomorrow.”

“That sounds like more of a win for me,” You told her bluntly.

“It’s a win-win for the two of us,” She explained. “You get to fuck me and go to the beach—I get to screw over both our teams, get railed and go to the beach. Simple.”

You nodded your head thoughtfully, pretending to think it over. In truth, you had your answer ready for quite some time.

“So?” Joy urged.

“I accept your offer,” You answered. Joy grinned.

“Perfect,” She said. “Now get your shit and let’s go. All this talk about sex has me aching for your cock.”

As she turned to leave, you grabbed her by the wrist.

“Who said anything about leaving?” You asked. Joy raised an eyebrow.

“My my… Getting mischievous aren’t you?” She teased.

“Well… Like you said: I can set aside my moral compass when it comes to fucking you.”

Joy smiled that lustful smile.

“So are you just gonna keep talking? Or are you gonna kiss me?”

In a flash, you were up on your feet, her tight frame in your arms and her lips on yours. Her hands touched your chest, your own hands on her ass.

“I know the pin to my boss’s office…” Joy whispered. “She has a couch in there.”

A sly grin made its way up your face.

“Then what are we waiting for?” You asked. Joy giggled. She grabbed your hand, hurriedly pulling you towards the direction of her boss’s office.

Looks like your night was far from over.

You ran to that office with Joy like it was an emergency. Once there, Joy hurriedly punched in the numbers. A series of beeps, a green flash and Joy threw open the door, pulling you in with her.

“Any cameras in here?” You asked her.

“Nope,” She replied confidently. “Funnily enough, the CEO turns off all the cameras at night to save money on electricity. That’s why we have so many security guards.”

“That sounds oddly convenient,” You mused.

You found a light switch and flipped it on. The room filled with warm light, revealing the spacious office that was at your disposal.

“Christ. Just shut up and undress me already,” Joy huffed. She moved to unbutton your shirt, and you did the same. The lacy fabric of her bra slowly became more and more visible with each button that came undone, heightening your excitement and making your cock twitch wildly in your pants.

Joy tugged at your pants.

“Get this off,” She whispered. You gladly undid your belt and unbuckled your trousers. They fell with a ‘thump’, pooling around your ankles and exposing the very apparent bulge in your underwear. Joy got her skirt off, making quick work of the article of clothing and tossing it to a side.

“Come here,” She said. She captured your lips, hands hooking the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down. You jolted a little when you felt the coolness of her palm against your shaft, but quickly adjusted, relishing the small sparks of pleasure when she stroked your length slowly. Your lips parted with hers, your eyes drinking in Joy’s curvaceous body.

“The usual?” She asked, toying with the tip of your cock.

“You pick,” You told her. There was a gleam in Joy’s eyes as she placed a finger on her lips, deep in thought.

“I wanna ride you,” She decided. You grinned.

“Sure thing, but I want to eat you out first.”

Joy let go of your cock.

“Then fucking eat me.”

She guided you over to her boss’s desk. She propped herself up on it, spreading her luscious thighs apart and exposing a wet patch on her still-clothed pussy. It would only be a matter of time before her underwear would be discarded as well.

You didn’t need to be invited over. You were on your knees in a flash, hands pushing Joy’s spreading Joy’s legs a little further. Your index finger pressed against the damp spot on her panties, making her gasp when you started tracing the outline of her pussy with your fingertip.

“D-Don’t tease me like that…” She whispered.

“I like to play with my food a little,” You smirked. She whined, her voice full of need and desire. She squirmed atop the desk, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back. She made no further attempts to cease your teasing.

When you eventually decided you had Joy riled up, you pulled the thin fabric of her panties off. Her pink folds glistened under the light. You licked your lips, mouth watering at the sight.

You planted a kiss on her left thigh, then her right. Joy’s legs trembled in anticipation.

“Look at me Joy,” You ordered. She bit down on her lower lip, eyes locking onto you. Maintaining eye-contact, you leaned forward and placed your mouth on her soaking pussy.

You’d never forget her reaction when your tongue darted out, sweeping across her slick with the tip of your tongue. Her head whipped back, jet black hair sent flying behind her as she let a sharp sigh escape her lips. You quickly responded with another lick, your tongue tracing a path from the bottom of her slit to the top of her opening. Her juices accumulated on your tongue, her taste lingering in your mouth.

Joy’s hand found your head. She gripped a fistfull of your hair, your name spilling out from her half-parted lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, the flesh drowning out the whir of the air conditioning — a warm, pillowy heaven. Her moans resonated through her body, her thighs vibrating slightly with each gasp or sigh. Your tongue attacked her folds, the flat side of your tongue brushing up Joy’s womanhood in slow, long strokes. The tip of your tongue flicked the swollen nub at the top of her pussy, playing with her clit to your heart's content as you made Joy writhe with pleasure. Nails dug into the back of your skull. Her Thighs clamped down harder around your ears. Her juices leaked out of her cunt, pooling in your mouth as Joy pushed your head into her, forcing your tongue as deep as it could go.

Her thighs shifted down slightly, gripping your cheeks in their grasps instead.

“Fuck… Keep going… Keep eating me…” She pleaded, face twisting in pleasure. There was really no need for that request. You never intended on stopping till she came.

It didn’t take long for you to get close to accomplishing your mission. When her thighs tensed around you, you increased the intensity of your assault. Joy’s breaths became shallower, the intervals between her moans decreasing with each one that left her mouth.

“Oh god… I’m cumming… I’m fucking—”

She never finished her sentence. Her throat strained visibly, her vocal chords tensing as the pleasure struck her like a bolt of thunder. In a sweaty, beautiful disarray, Joy orgasmed. Her lips formed a round “o”, her nails threatening to puncture your scalp. You lapped up the juices that gushed out from her entrance, drinking in as much of her as you could. You fell some of her sweet fluids dribbling down your chin, but you’d handle that later.

You held her body down by her thighs as she shook and quivered on the table. Eventually she settled down enough. She brought her left hand—which had been digging into your scalp—-down to your cheek. She lifted up your head softly.

“Couch… Let me fuck myself on your cock.”

You smiled.

“With pleasure Joy.”

You stood up. Grasping her hand, you helped her off the table and onto the couch. Your cock throbbed violently in her hand as she gripped it firmly, guiding the tip of your shaft to her entrance. Without a word of warning, she dropped down, sheathing you inside of her tight little cunt. Your eyes bulged, a strained sigh leaving your throat. Your hands found her full ass, gripping it tightly.

“Fuck… I always forget how big you are…” She breathed, slowly grinding against you to adjust to your size.

“But you never forget how much you love bouncing on my cock, do you Joy?” You asked.

“Of course…” She replied, eyes glazed with pleasure. “I will never forget how good it feels to be filled with your cock.”

Her hips stopped moving. She shifted on top of you, her hands resting on your shoulders. She kissed you tenderly, tasting herself on your lips.

“I’m gonna fuck myself so hard on this big cock,” She whispered.

“Go ahead Joy,” You said. “Show me how you ride this cock.”

When she began bouncing on you, the sensation of her walls gripping and sliding up and down your shaft almost made you black out. You grounded yourself in reality with the aid of the tender flesh of Joy’s butt, your teeth clenching as she impaled herself on you relentlessly. Her pussy pulsed around your shaft, each beat matching her pace.

“So… Fucking… Big…” She gasped. “I’m… Addicted… To your big cock.”

Her voice was raspy, filled with desire. She wanted this. She needed this.

You smirk, eyes glued to her breasts that were bouncing with each impact she made against you. She caught you looking, taking the hint and leaning forward to give you better access to her assets.

“Thank you,” You smirked through the overwhelming pleasure. You dived in, licking up the sweat between her breasts before shifting slightly to take one of her tits into your mouth. Joy’s walls seemed to clench down tighter around you, responding to the attention you gave her breasts. She moaned louder, riding you faster as your tongue swirled around her taut nipple.

“Fuck yes, suck my tits. Suck my fucking tits!” She screamed. Her cheeks were flushed, her body glistening with sweat as she rode you fiercely. She wasn’t letting up on her pace, fucking herself harshly on your cock just as she promised. She seemed to be sucking you deeper and deeper between her folds. Each bottom of her strokes squeezed you deliciously, partially forcing you out of her pussy when she rose. The motion repeated, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel the cushion of the couch compressing under your combined weight, Joy’s frantic bounces onto you making it feel like you were on a trampoline. She moaned right into your ear, making your hair stand as her scent filled your nose. Joy overwhelmed your senses. You were going insane.

She continued riding you, thighs clamped around your waist and her arms wrapped around your neck. You released her tit from your mouth, mounds of flesh glistening in a mixture of sweat and saliva. Joy’s eyes, half-lidded in pleasure, stared into yours. The intimacy was sublime.

As much as you would have enjoyed letting Joy bounce on your cock forever, you had your limits.

“Joy…” You grunted. She understood.

She stopped riding you, quickly dismounting you and sitting down next to you. Her hand gripped your shaft, slick with her juices, jerking you off frantically.

“Quick, choose a place to cum,” She urged you.

It takes effort. But through your gritted teeth, you manage a reply.

“Y-Your face. Let me cover your face.”

Joy was on her knees in an instant. Her hand never left your shaft, pumping away with gusto as she closed her eyes. Her free hand fondled your balls, gently massaging your cum up your shaft as your toes curled into the carpet. With a grunt, you let loose.

Rope after rope of your hot seed shoots out of your cock. Joy’s face is covered almost instantly, your load painting her features white in your semen. She squeezed your cock, forcing every last drop of cum out of you. Your body went rigid in overwhelming bliss, your senses numbed by the force of your tidal wave of an orgasm.

Joy waited patiently for the last drop of your cum to ooze out of your twitching shaft. Her tongue emerged from her cum stained lips, licking up your seed that was around her mouth before cleaning you up thoroughly. You mustered the strength to rest a hand on her head, gently stroking her sweat-matted hair as she worked on your cock, helping you to gently ease down from your high.

“That… Was better than I imagined,” You mused.

“Ever since when has sex with me been a disappointment?” Joy grinned, gathering bits of your load off her face with her fingers.

“That’s true…” You mused. Joy giggled, slapping your cock against her face.

Joy waited for you to regain some strength, content with sucking your cock in the meantime.

When you could finally stand, you assisted Joy in cleaning up the mess you made on her face. When all was said and done, you and Joy made sure that there were no odd stains left anywhere in her boss’s office. Once you were both sure that your deed would not be discovered, you hastily put your clothes back on. You turned off the lights and slipped out of the office.

“That was fun,” Joy giggled, hugging your arm. “Now… I expect you to hold up your end of our deal.”

You chuckled.

“It would be rude of me not to after what we did,” You mused. Joy smiled.

“Good… Then it looks like we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

The sun shined intensely on your face. Joy’s car cruised down the road, the wind catching her flowy black hair and making her sundress flap a little in the wind.

“Quit staring at my tits will you?” She remarked.

“You can’t blame me,” You defended yourself. She rolled her eyes.

“Right. I just look too good in this don’t I?”

You chuckled, your eyes turning back to the road. The sand and the blue waters were visible now, you were close.

“Take the exit just up ahead,” You instructed her.

“I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to backseat drive,” She scoffed.

“All right… You’re the boss…”

Joy smirked, pushing up her sunglasses a little. When the exit came, you were amused when Joy’s car sped right past it.

“I thought you said you knew what you were doing?” You questioned.

“I do,” She answered confidently.

“Then why the fuck did you miss the exit?”

“Cause we’re going somewhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you said we were going to the beach?”

Joy smiled innocently.

“We are, just a different part,” She answered. You gave her a look.

“What?” She asked. “Why are you giving me that side eye?”

You folded your arms.

“Why are you suddenly changing our destination?” You interrogated. Joy’s lips formed a thin line.

“Relax. I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” She reasoned with you. “Just calm your ass down. We’re almost there.”

You were a little sceptical, but you knew better than to doubt Soo-young. But you still had the urge to have a final say.

“Always breaking agreements,” You muttered.

“I heard that,” She told you.

“You were supposed to,” You replied. Joy clicked her tongue in annoyance, but you recognised that familiar cheeky glint in those eyes. She was having fun, so were you.

Joy drove for another 10 minutes or so. A roof of a structure slowly emerged, a stand alone seaside chalet revealing itself.

“We’ll get the beach to ourselves here,” Joy grinned. You chuckled.

“You’re full of surprises,” You remarked.

“And you’re full of shit,” She shot back.

Joy’s car pulled up to the gate of the chalet. She rustled through her tote bag for a bit before retrieving a remote. With a click of a button, the gate rolled open. Joy drove in, parking the car just outside the entrance to the small house.

“We came here on a team retreat a year ago, I figured out how to book it,” She told you.

“I didn’t ask,” You said.

“But you’re bound to ask at some point,” She fired back.

She wasn’t wrong.

You helped Joy to unload the things in her trunk, amused to find that she had brought beverages and meat to grill. You quickly deduced that this would be an overnight stay, realising why she asked you to pack an extra set of clothes.

You entered the chalet with Joy. While Joy put your things in the room, you busied yourself with storing the meat and drinks in the fridge. It was quick work for the both of you.

“Look around for a bit, I need to change,” Joy told you.

“Can I watch?” You asked. She slapped your arm.

“Fucking pervert.”

You chuckled. Joy giggled a little before retreating back to the room and shutting the door behind her. You did as suggested, exploring the place a little while you waited for Joy to emerge out of the room. It was a cosy little spot, complete with an outdoor dining area that offered a breathtaking view of the sea. The view was great, but something told you that the view of Joy’s naked body would’ve been better.

“All right. Let’s head to the water.”

You turned. Your mouth dried up.

Joy sauntered towards you, towel in hand. Her wide hips swaying in those skimpy shorts that cut off perfectly around the fullness of those thighs, perky breasts bulging out behind that tight neon-yellow top on her body, bending the words “Life Is Sweet” around her ample tits. Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail, a cap sitting on her head to block out the harsh sun.

“What?” She prompted, giving you a look.

“N-Nothing,” You quickly replied, shaking off the dirty thoughts in your head. “Let’s go…”

You slid the door open and walked out into the deck. You could hear Joy’s pattering footsteps behind you, and you had to resist the urge to look back and get another good look at her. You’d seen her in all sorts of clothing. Suits, dresses, mini skirts, you’d seen it all. Hell you’d even seen her naked countless times.

But this? This felt so different for some odd reason.

Your feet hit the sand, the grains crushing under your feet as you moved towards the water.

“Wait,” Joy called out from behind. You turned—a little too enthusiastically—and saw her holding out a bottle.

“Put on some sunscreen,” She told you, walking up to you and uncapping the bottle. You held out a palm, and Joy pumped a generous dollop into your hand. You thanked her with a smile before applying the lotion onto your body. Joy busied herself with her own body, the Sunscreen making her skin gleam slightly before she rubbed the lotion into her skin completely.

“Could you help me with my back?” She requested, turning her back to you. You quickly took a moment to soak in the shape of her ass in those shorts before walking over and taking the sunscreen from her. You pushed down, pumping some of the lotion onto your hand before applying it on Joy’s back. Your hands cheekily slipped under the bits of her top that clung to her back, earning a playful gaze from the woman. You took your time to rub the lotion into her smooth skin, savouring the curves of her body from behind.

When you decided that you were satisfied, you stepped away.

“All done,” You smiled innocently.

“You sure took your time. Had a good look?” She teased, catching you red handed. You smirked.

“Definitely,” You replied. She smiled and pinched your cheek.

“What a cheeky boy…”

Joy laid down a mat under the shade of a tree, far enough from the tide but close enough for you to quickly access the water. You walked towards the azure blue sea with Joy, wet sand squishing under your feet as you went deeper and deeper. The two of you didn’t go in too deep, stopping when the water hit your knees. A wind had picked up, and Joy stretched out her arms.

“Ah… This is nice…” She sighed.

“Mhm,” You hummed in agreement. A smile made its way onto the girl’s face.

“I wonder how our teams are fairing…” She giggled.

“Not too well probably,” You answered truthfully.

“Ah well… We all get what we deserve…” She sighed. “And we deserve this nice bit of relaxation…”

You nodded, silently agreeing with her. There was a moment of silence between you two as you both stood there, letting the water sweep around your knees. The sea water left a pleasant tingle on your skin, giving you some sort of a respite to the heat of the summer.

Joy moved closer to you.

“You know what’s nice about this?” She whispered.

“What?” You asked. She stretched out her arm towards the shore.

“We have this segment of the beach to ourselves.”

She moved in a little more, your bare arms touching each other. You caught her gaze. She smiled.

“Say…” She began, gingerly reaching for your hand. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“What is it?” You asked. Joy didn’t reply, opting to silently guide your hand onto her toned tummy. Your knuckles slipped past the waistband of her shorts, your fingers coming into contact with something warm and wet. Experience allowed you to deduce what exactly was against your fingertips.

“Ever thought about fucking on the beach?”Joy grinned.

“Nope… But I’m down to try,” You replied.

As quickly as you had entered the water with her, you found yourselves back up on shore, tongues in mouths and hands on each other. Joy’s mat served as a barrier between you and the sand, providing a perfect place for you to lay Soo-young down and slip your digits into her slick folds. A moan escaped her lips, her front teeth becoming visible as she bit down on her fingernail. You pumped your hand, working your fingers deeper into her slick cunt, your lips peppering her neck with kisses and light nibbles. A stream of moans and whines flowed from Joy’s mouth.

“Oh yes… Right there baby… R-Right fucking there,” She hissed, hips jerking when your fingers curled up and made contact with the soft flesh on the roof of her walls.

“You’re so wet Joy,” You muttered.

“I’m always wet for you…” She replied.

You smiled.

“You're always such a little slut for me, aren’t you?” You whispered into her ear. She nodded.

“O-Oh… Y-Yes… I’m your little slut…”

Your fingers worked faster, pumping harder and deeper into her warmth. She gasped sharply, her back arching deliciously. You bent her to your will, a dark part of you finding pleasure in making her yours.

“Oh shit… Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” She whined, her left hand kneading her left breast while her right clung to your shirt sleeve for dear life. She let her sighs and gasps tumble out of her mouth, not bothering to control her volume as her hips start grinding against your hand. Her eyes filled with need, her tight body quivering and thrashing against your hand as she moaned your name into your ear. With each entrance of your fingers, a delightfully erotic squelch filled your ears, mixing with Joy’s filthy exclamations of pleasure. Your lips found Joy’s, muffling her cries with your mouth. Her thighs clamped down tightly around your hand, keeping you deep inside of her while you drove her wild.

Your left hand found one of her taut nipples, and you gave the nub a pinch. Joy moaned into your mouth, her right hand shifting up and gripping your forearm. You released her lips, allowing you to hear those cute mewls and gasps clearly. Her moaning increased in volume, her eyes widening.

“Fuck… I-I’m gonna cum,” She said, nails digging into your arm. “Keep fucking me with your fingers! I’m fucking… Oh!”

Joy came, tight frame shaking violently. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, pupils dilating further as her thighs quivered around your hand. Her back arched further, her breasts proudly protruding on her quivering chest. Your hand slowed, gradually halting to give Joy a breather through her high. Her body crashes down on the mat mere minutes later, heaving with each breath Joy took as the bliss faded. Sweat beaded on her brow, her skin glistening deliciously under the light.

Her weak left hand tilted your chin towards her. She finds your lips once more, holding you in a sweet kiss for a little before releasing you.

“Fuck me however you want… Just promise that you’ll cum in me this time.”

You smiled.

“Of course Joy…” You affirmed her. “Let’s get you undressed.”

Her soaking wet shorts were off in a flash, her skin-tight top following closely behind. Joy undid the strings of your shorts, pulling them down to let your hard cock spring out. Her hand gripped your shaft, slender fingers squeezing your member gently as she stroked you lazily.

“The usual?” She asked. You nodded, feeling a little bit of Deja vu. Joy’s hand left your cock, planting itself behind her. She flipped herself belly down, her big juicy ass raised and presented for you. You pulled your shorts down past your knees before positioning yourself behind Joy. She looked back at you, that devilish smile on her face as you slapped your cock against her ass.

“Put it in…” She whispered.

“Patience, Joy… You’re always in such a hurry,” You told her, taking your time to line yourself up with her slit. While you were aching to enter her, a dark part in you took pleasure in making the girl beg.

“Please… Please just put in already…” She implored, a wanton expression wiping the smile off her face. You finally relented.

You pushed your tip in, parting her flushed, pink lips as the rest of your cock slid into Joy’s cunt with ease. You groaned, hands gripping the full cheeks of her ass as you hilted yourself in her tight walls. It was pure bliss.

“God… You’re always so fucking tight Joy,” You hissed, spanking her with an open palm. She yelped in delight, ass rippling under the impact.

“Fuck me…” She gasped. She was so full of need and lust.

You did as she requested. Your hips popped back, your shaft redrawing from her slick momentarily before spearheading right back into the depths of her cunt. You gave her no time to adjust, quickly establishing a rough, frantic, carnal pace and taking her pussy. Joy was gasping, crying, screaming in delight, her ass rippling hypnotically with each deep stroke you made. Her little body rocked, the warmth of her ass cushioning your crotch with each entrance. Her hands dug into the sand, fingers buried deep in the grains to hold her steady as you pounded her tight little pussy mercilessly. Her walls sucked you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into her till you could feel the warmth of her core on the tip of your cock. Jolts of pleasure shot up your spine and through your nervous system.

Joy lowered her upper body to the ground, deepening the angle of your frantic thrusts into her. You reached down, hands quickly locating her swaying breasts and cupping them. You played with her soft ample mounds, relishing Joy’s curves in your palms.

“Oh fuck Joy… You take my cock so well,” You grunted.

“My body… Was made to take your cock,” She hissed back. “This pussy is yours. Take my slutty little pussy like it’s yours.”

She made eye contact with you for the nth time. The look in her eyes made something snap inside of you.

Your palm left her tits, pushing down on the small of Joy’s back. Her face dug into the mat, her thighs spreading even further to take you deeper into her folds. She screams your name, begging you for more.

You doubled down on Joy, your slick shaft emerging and disappearing between her slick pussy lips. Her hand reached between your bodies, rubbing frantically at her clit.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” She cried, sounding breathless. She was enjoying every last second of her treatment. The waves crashed against the shore, doing little to mask the screams of pleasure escaping from Joy’s lips.

You fucked Joy into the sand, taking control of her body as you bent over her to keep her pinned between you and the mat.

“How does it feel Joy?” You growled into her ear. “How does it feel being fucked like a dirty little slut?”

Joy struggled to answer.

“It feels… So… Fucking good…”

The pure filth coming from her mouth spurred you, making you fuck her faster, harder… You wanted to fuck her senseless like you always did. Joy loved taking your cock till her mind went blank. Be it in the office, in between her own sheets or even in a car, she relished the feel of your cock stretching her out and fucking her till her brain rattled in her skull. There was no such thing as “Slow” when you were with Joy.

Your hand gripped her ponytail, yanking back hard till her head was looking straight ahead.

“I’m gonna fucking cum Joy,” You hissed. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside your tight little cunt.”

“Yes yes yes… Do it! Fill me! I need it so fucking bad!” She grunted. Your hand leaves her hair, both hands gripping her wide hips roughly as you give Joy all you had.

Your orgasm almost made you black out. You buried yourself as deep as you could inside Joy’s body, struggling to keep your upper body upright. Your cock spasmed and pulsated, your body quivering and shaking — absolutely overwhelmed by pleasure. Joy’s sighs drowned out the noises around you, a dull ring in your ears as you pumped your load into her awaiting cunt. It takes an eternity for you to recover. When you do, Joy was quick to request for more.

“I want it in my ass next…” She told you. Through your sweat-matted hair, you managed a grin.

“Coming right up.”

You wouldn’t be going back into the water for quite some time.

~~~~

A cool evening breeze ruffled your hair, rustling the leaves of trees behind you as you sat on the deck with Joy. Her head rested on your shoulder, mouth busy chewing on the piece of meat in her mouth. There was a pleasant silence between the two of you, both of you silently listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

“Feed me another piece,” Joy requested. You gladly obliged, poking a slice of grilled meat with your fork and bringing it to her mouth. She bit it off your fork, chewing happily.

“You know… I think we should do this more often,” She told you between bites.

“There’s a limit on the number of times we can call in sick Joy,” You reminded her.

“Ah who fucking cares,” She said. “We can probably find other loopholes in the system.”

You chuckled.

“I guess so,” You mused. She tapped your hand. You fed her another piece of meat.

A deep sigh left her mouth. You risked a glance down, noting the look of content on her face as she stared out into the sea. The sun was setting just past the horizon, an orangish-golden glow illuminating the surface of the water. The sunlight blended with the deep blue water of the sea, the sun reflected on the surface of the water. It was… Oddly romantic.

“Thanks for coming out with me today,” Joy said. “I really appreciate it.”

You smiled.

“No problem Soo-young,” You replied. “I needed this break either way.”

Joy giggled.

“I know. So did I.”

“So was I always meant to be invited?” You questioned.

“Hm… Maybe.”

You feigned offence. Joy laughed and smacked your arm playfully.

“Well… Intended or not, I’m glad you asked me to come,” You told her sincerely. Her expression softened.

“That’s great… Would’ve been a waste if you didn’t,” She replied.

Your eyes met hers. For once, past the cheekiness, past the lust and past the mischief, you saw a faint glimmer of… something behind her gaze. Something stirred in you.

You looked back out towards the sea, feeling an odd sensation on your chest. You didn’t know what it was, but it made you hold Joy a little closer.

Maybe… Just maybe… You felt like the two of you were more than just friends with benefits.

-------------------

Hello. Hope you enjoyed this one. I had a little bit of a Joy overdose so...

Anyways, thanks for stopping by and reading! Have a great day!

#joy red velvet #park sooyoung #joy smut

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psychewritesbs · 7 months

Text

Chapter 236: Go South—JJK is generational

Gosh. Can we pleeeease just like... have a moment of silence for the one and only...THE Man, Gojo Satoru.

Ok, time's up.

Moving on.

Word vomit under the cut.

The process of reading this chapter was a very interesting one this week because the fandom got really noisy as soon as the leaks dropped.

Between allegations of bad writing and the utter sense of grief Gojo fans were expressing, it was quite the 💩 storm.

And then the actual scanlations started dropping, and little by little they replaced most of the noise with the utter sense of calm and peace and satisfaction that Gojo felt in his last moments in this plane of existence.

I gotta say that I just absolutely loved how Gege depicted those emotions (outside of Gojo's "dream") through shots of the devastated Shinjuku district.

The remnants of the battle of The Strongest, as if the landscape and the buildings themselves represented the end of an era, the devastation of the structure of Jujutsu society itself.

After all, as The Strongest sorcerer in the modern era, Gojo represented the very system he was trying to destroy.

Gege loves his irony.

Now, I would normally say that the words in the speech bubbles are superfluous because Gege creates such a beautiful atmosphere through the setting alone. But it is the words themselves that re-contextualize not just the battle, but also shed more light on Sukuna's interest in Megumi, which I feel we haven't seen the extent of what he had in mind.

Now I'm hoping this isn't a dream

Listen, I must admit I've never cared for Gojo.

I don't hate him, I don't love him, I simply never really cared for him.

That, of course, changed with this chapter.

And it is perhaps Gojo's death that really solidified in my mind the idea that one of the underlying themes in jjk is... dun dun dun... DEATH.

Yeah, I know. Sue me, I'm late to the party lmao.

But it's not just death itself that is a theme, but rather the face we put on when death comes knocking at the door.

There aren't many things that we can be certain of in this life, but death is one of them. So how we confront death and our mortality shapes the sense of self.

I know a lot of people were dissatisfied with the transition from 235 to 236 and Gege not showing how/when Gojo got slashed in half, but I find the abrupt transition makes sense, and I even dare say was... quite poetic.

For one, now knowing that Gojo knew Sukuna was holding back, a lot of incidents throughout the battle are given new meaning. Like that look of confidence on Gojo's face as he "thinks" he's finally managed to "get through" to Sukuna.

So I have to say that I loved that Gege starts the chapter with Gojo becoming aware that he has died or is dying.

In other words, Sukuna's attack was so sudden that Gojo's next moment of awareness as "Gojo Satoru" is in what we would normally think of as "the light at the end of the tunnel" where he is greeted by people who were of significance to him in his youth.

And can we please just talk about how Geto is the first person he sees when he becomes aware that he is dying?

Please. This is fucking poetry!

Insert keyboard smash.

Screaming in jjk.

Go South

I literally lack the words to explain why I love this whole chapter so much. Which is a lot to say because I am about to word vomit about it. But like...

Again, hindsight is 20/20.

I always thought of the panel above as Geto being jealous of Gojo surpassing him in strength but, in retrospect, I think Geto's disappointment had more to do with Gojo's sense of self over-identifying with the title "the strongest" and how that made him harder to relate to, which is one of the main themes in this chapter. I'll come back to this in a sec.

But first...

Quick depth psych segway. I think I've said this before, but it bears repeating again that an overwhelming sense of self is all ego. There's nothing wrong with ego per se.

The problem is that an over-identification with ego means inherent separateness because, as an organ of the psyche, the ego sense of self is what gives us a separate identity from the collective.

On the other hand, soul/heart (another organ in the psyche) is the principle of relatedness--love, the single energy that can bring us all together as a collective.

But as we already know, the stronger the sorcerer, the more overwhelming the sense of self.

Unfortunately, because an overwhelming sense of self = separateness, this also means the person in question can't relate to others.

And is this not thematically perfect for a sorcerer whose perfected cursed technique was meant to render others unable to "reach him"?

In other words, Gojo saw himself as separate (because he was "The Strongest") and that made it harder for him to relate to others, but only because he self-identified as "The Strongest".

Infinity ∞, in this sense, is also about the self-fulfilling prophecy Gojo was stuck playing out in his life in regards to seeing himself as "The Strongest".

But like a serpent eating its own tail, Gojo came back full circle, and in the moments before his death, learned that what really mattered to him was not strength for the sake of strength, but rather the connections he had fostered with others.

PLEASE. GEGE. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK?!!!!!!!!!!!

To bring it back to "Satoru became 'The Strongest'"...

I just loved so much that seeing Geto as soon as he becomes aware he's died felt like an encounter that meant Gojo had returned to the person he was before he self-identified as "The Strongest".

But more importantly, Gojo's imagination of himself as back when he was young also speaks both to how much he cherished that period of his life, and to how he was emotionally frozen in time due to his encounter with Toji.

It makes me wonder whether Gojo was afraid of dying alone when Toji almost killed him. So it's almost like what he took away from that battle was that he was always alone, and so he sought to push others away.

The kicker is that he simultaneously feared his existential isolation and yet craved the very source of his fear--human relations.

But in choosing self-preservation, he was a selfish to the very end.

What an idiot (tragically affectionate).

Anyways. How much of this is hc? Someone tell me please 😂. I feel like I went off the deep end in the last few paragraphs.

Like everyone else in this fandom I've lost all objectivity when it comes to Gojo because his departure from the story was truly one of the most heartbreaking moments in jjk.

I understand people's complaints about the "execution," but I think the world-wide phenomena that Gojo's death has spurred speaks to Gege's ability to elicit deeply archetypal emotional responses as a story teller.

With Gojo's death, a part of our own psyche too has died. And what's most significant about this death is that it was, true to Gojo's character, "something that needed to die because it represented the very thing it sought to destroy."

And this would be why I love Gege's writing.

A fitting way for Gojo to go out

I know not everyone agrees, but I really appreciated that he was satisfied and at peace in the very end.

He got his cake (battle to death with Sukuna) and got to eat it too (reconnected with his loved ones).

Sukuna

But we can't talk about Gojo without talking about Sukuna as the one who liberated Gojo from the burden of his existential isolation.

Sukuna gave Gojo a fun battle, but if it weren't because Sukuna figured out how to cut through Gojo's metaphorical defenses by learning to cut through space-time itself--the very fabric of reality, Gojo might not have found his humanity once again.

The outcome of this battle spells out in no uncertain terms how dire the situation is as Sukuna has proven himself to be the uncontested "Strongest".

But in a sense, the end is a new beginning, and this time, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

JJK is generational

I get the feeling that everyone will remember where they were when this panel dropped.

I was in bed. It was 6 am and Tasokare, my miniature panther, was demanding attention.

A moot was on the way to the gym. They never made it out of the house after seeing the panel.

Another moot was completely avoiding Twitter to avoid leaks, but her brother, who does not even read jjk, saw the panel on Facebook and showed it to her.

Yet another moot was on vacation at the beach.

JJK is generational like that and there's just so much more I can say about this chapter and its implications (like the idea that Sukuna can now cut through space-time, why?! what does he want to get out of this ability?), but I just don't even know what more I can say right now.

Anyways, thanks for reading. I'm looking forward to any thoughts you might have. Just a heads up, I'm very, very slow at replying.

#jjk ch 236 #god I love jujutsu kaisen

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cheseely · 5 months

Note

Hi, I'm sure you get this often but I really love your recent genshin artwork, do you think you could explain your painting process? I love the colouring effect in that piece especially. Thank you.

Thank you so much! I got a few messages like this from my previous piece (thank you guys for the staff pick & blaze btw, I really didn't expect all the support😭) so I thought I'd share a bit of my process below as thanks.

I always do my lineart first because it feels less daunting to me when applying colours. I will do some rough colours first so I can easily adjust it to my liking.

Next, I make sure to separate each character into different layers when I clean it up. I like to work one character or object at a time, it's less overwhelming for me that way, and I can use clipping masks for ease of rendering.

I'll usually apply some adjustment layers on top of the base layer for shadows and highlights. When I say base layer, I just mean a layer of the colour without any effects.

I like using 'hard light' for shadows, and 'screen' for highlights, but you can really use whatever clicks with you.

Rinse & repeat this process for every character in the illustration. Note that I make Furina the focus so everything behind her will be less rendered than the elements in front of them (Neuvillette is a lot less rendered compared to Furina, and the painting in the back barely has much shading).

Once I render out each asset in the illustration and add shadows & highlights to my liking, I then to merge foreground/ midground/ background elements so I can make the overall illustration clearer to read. I don't want it to feel messy or overcrowded, and I think it's easy to get tunnel-visioned in small details and lose the clarity of the entire illustration.

Make sure to zoom out constantly and make your illustration B&W to check the values to see if the drawing is clear.

I created a simple S curve with the values for readability, and have the foreground elements have darker values & contrasts.

As for the BG, I wanted to add more textures into the drawing, particularly the painting in the back. Here's an image of it when I only added in the base colours.

I use the smudge tool to create more texture once I fill in the base colours. Since I don't really 'paint' anything with the textures in, I just put in the base colours and take a textured brush to smudge it. However, over-smudging can lose the painterly texture I want, so I usually smudge vertically or horizontally in a single stroke to create a sense of movement.

Another thing to note is that I only textured the BG, I thought it would help it blend into the background a bit better. I usually wouldn't do this for the foreground because I want those elements to be clearer.

At the very end, I tend to spend a fair bit of time just fiddling with more adjustment layers, various filters (such as blur, or noise), or liquify small details to really finalize the piece. Just vibes...basically this is me

Anyway, I hope that was helpful & it made sense!! Feel free to message me if you have any other questions & I'll try my best to answer! I might've glazed over a lot since I didn't wanna make this too long.

#anon #ask #tutorial #art tutorial #genshin impact

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annie-bby · 1 year

Note

Maybe it's me now requesting something :) Well your not on season 12 of Grey's yet, so I thought to Jackson or Mark, you can choose

Prompt: “this is what we’ve been waiting for”

Take all the time you need bestie <3

can’t help falling inlove with you

summary : mark and y/n wanted nothing more than to have a family, and when it finally happens, mark is overjoyed.

pairing(s) : mark sloan x fem!reader (reader is pregnant, has periods)

content warning : pregnancy trope, mentions of failing to get pregnant, tooth rotting fluff, slight angst?

a/n : ughhhh i’m so sorry for not posting, this is sort of short and a bit shitty tbh… i hope you like it anyway! i decided to write for mark first, and i’ll make sure i write for jackson sometime soon as wel with the same trope <3 thank you for requesting.

it was no secret that mark sloan wanted a family. other than being a great surgeon, having about three or four children with the person he loves in a great home with a few pets was all he ever wanted.

mark met you in joe’s bar, not long after he moved to seattle. you were moping about just having broken up with your long term boyfriend and he knew just how to cheer you up.

a few dates later and you had officially became boyfriend and girlfriend, and now, a two years later, you’re sitting in your bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test.

you and mark had been struggling to get pregnant for about six months now, so this was like a light at the end of the tunnel. a spark of hope shot through you and you couldn’t wait to tell your boyfriend the happy news.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when the front door to your shared apartment shut, and mark’s half-serious, half-joking voice yelled “honey, i’m home!”

the line made you chuckle as you ran out the master bedroom and down the hall into his arms.

“woah, someone’s happy to see me,” mark teased, only making you hold onto him tighter. “you alright, baby?”

he placed you down onto the beige, fluffy carpet and you cleared your throat, opening your mouth yet no words came out. mark waited patiently for you to say something, slowly peeling his coat and shoes off and placing them on the racks next to the front door.

“i have something to show you that i think you’ll like.” you said, shuffling carefully on your feet nervously as he nodded, waiting for you to continue. you didn’t know why a sudden wave of nerves hit you, you knew mark would be excited.

“i’m pregnant.”

“really?” his eyes searched yours, a need for confirmation.

“really.”

mark’s eyes lit up, and you could sense his absolute love and devotion for you and your baby.

“she’s gonna be so cute, i’m going to buy so much stuff for her. spoi-”

“she?” you raised an eyebrow.

“shut up. i’m just so ready, this is what we’ve been waiting for.”

#⤷‧₊˚ annie’s blog !!#x reader #greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy x reader #mark sloan #mark sloan x reader #mark sloan x fem!reader

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lee-em-dee · 7 months

Text

A Sequence Analysis of the 6x13 Bellarke Reunion

[a.k.a. the final scene of The 100 because Jroth can Jrot in hell]

After a grim conversation between Bellamy and Jordan, the sequence transitions to a warmly lit, wide angle perspective of the reunion at Sanctum. Friends and lovers “meet again,” hugging, kissing, reconciling in a series of action shots: Miller & Jackson, Murphy/Emori & Raven, Jackson & Echo. The sound of their laughter cuts through the uplifting strains of the melody playing [GAITS “Other Side”]. Against the show’s constant onslaught of death and destruction, the beauty in these brief flashes of joy isn’t lost on us; it’s fleeting, but it’s potent. We’re back at the gates of Arkadia in 2x16, only this time around, prospects for the future aren’t quite so bleak, nor is it “getting dark, too dark to see” beneath “that cold black cloud [coming] around” [RAIGN “Knocking on Heaven’s Door”].

Instead, the refrain “I know I’ll see you on the other side” embodies a sense of hope and certainty while also referencing Jasper’s parting words in S4. Unlike his nihilistic outlook, however, the soft, inviting quality of these opening shots seems to suggest that there’s light at the end of the tunnel—a glimpse at the other side of heaven’s door, where peace prevails and war is a distant memory.

As this undertone of cautious optimism resonates, the frame is swallowed up by a dark mass of faceless bodies. The music slows, the crowd parts, and exposed in the center of the frame is Clarke Griffin—a solitary, motionless figure within a stream of movement. Her silent presence isolates her from the liveliness of her surroundings. From the side angle of the camera in the shadowy foreground only her profile is visible, yet the expression on her face is noticeably stunned. We’re left with a sense of anticipation. Where is her gaze focused? What commands her attention so fiercely, stopping her in her tracks and arresting her movements? The anticipation builds, and, with it, the percussive intensity of the music. Soft vocalizations trail after “the other side,” echoing in our ears as we --

Cut to a reverse shot of Bellamy. He makes his way to his people, but it’s clear that the words exchanged with a disillusioned Jordan weigh on him. His eyes are fixed on the ground, brows furrowed, a pensive expression reflecting his weary frame of mind. It’s the aftermath of yet another battle, another spoke on a wheel that spins and spins, unleashing more devastation with each turn. We, as the audience, can only hope that this is the end of its vicious cycle. He’s lost in thought, but a glance ahead has his eyes snagging on something out of shot. No, someone. Bellamy’s steps falter for a beat, then his eyes widen a fraction. He’s mesmerized.

On the receiving end of his gaze, Clarke sharply exhales. The steady pulsing of the music stutters before the rhythm picks up in rapid sixteenth notes, akin to a heartbeat that skips, flutters, then pounds. Energy thrums in the single look that they share; everything else seems to melt away as they fixate on each other, as the tether that binds them together tugs, as the distance between twin souls is bridged.

We’re hit with the crescendo of the music, punctuated by the sustained beat of the drums. It’s booming. A fluid tracking shot follows Clarke as she launches herself away from the crowd into Bellamy’s open arms, and the force of their collision is shown through their synchronized exhalations of breath, through the swaying movement of their bodies pressed tightly together. Like cymbals crashing, they meet in the middle of the frame. The blocking instantly establishes a bubble of intimacy around them that blocks out the rest of the world as they completely obscure the figures (“girlfriend”) in the background. Refracted light slices across the screen at an angle, tracing the points of contact between these two people who radiate warmth and ignite under a single touch.

The music swells. Their embrace is set to the bridge “oh wait for me in fields of gold,” and as they hold each other, lost to a symphony of grief and elation, we get the sense that in each other’s arms these two broken beings are very much found. It’s a homecoming.

Clarke burrows her face into Bellamy’s neck. The sun beaming in the background sends scattered light over his shoulder, captured as flare in the camera lens. Not only does this element add a layer of visual impact and aesthetic beauty to the shot, but it also intensifies the climactic moment when their bodies collide. Tension is built and built until it finally snaps; in doing so, emotional catharsis (for both the characters and for the audience) is maximized. The combination of the lens flare and camera movements makes for a striking, visually dynamic shot with epic romantic overtones. In their reunion a sense of rightness is restored, which has remained a consistent theme of the show for six seasons. When the camera finally settles, what’s captured is the sheer magnetism of the moment. Nearby murmured conversations are unable to overtake the melody, and the bustling movements of the crowd are unable to break that hypnotic hold they have on each other.

Clarke clings to Bellamy; now, more than ever, it’s evident that her love for him is a refuge, her strength in times of weakness. Even so, sorrow threatens to overtake the solace found in his embrace; Bellamy immediately senses this, rubs a soothing pattern across her back. With brows drawn, he nestles his face against her shoulder as if to will her pain away.

We cut to a dynamic two shot, with Bellamy occupying the left side of the frame and Clarke the right. Both seem reluctant to part, and as they do, harsh realities set in. Bellamy delivers the sobering line, “I heard about Abby.” Like a death knell, its implications land on Clarke and reverberate through this gentle, short-lived moment of peace. Her face crumples. With a despondent shake of her head, she manages, “I tried to do better. I did.” Bellamy can only nod. His strained expression conveys how the mere sight of Clarke’s pain is excruciating to him. A sharp intake of breath from her—“And then I lost my mom.” The tremor in her voice betrays her composure; the words catch in her throat, imparting a strangled quality to the line.

Her mother’s death clings to her. It’s reflected in her head-to-toe black attire, in the misery painted on her face. The weight of impossible decisions looms (how tragic that her mother’s endangerment was what drove her to pull the lever back in Mount Weather), and it seems that, this time around, the burden is too heavy to carry alone. “Tell me it was worth it,” she pleads to Bellamy, barely choking the words out as she battles tears. “Tell—tell me it was worth it.” In deep anguish Bellamy watches Clarke unravel before his eyes. With gentle words he tries to piece her back together. “Hey—Hey, we did. We did do better.”

This entire verbal exchange is filmed as a continuous arc shot that swings back and forth on an axis (Bellamy -> Clarke / Clarke -> Bellamy) with the sun acting as the focal point between them. The shot—much like their soul-deep connection—remains unbroken and uninterrupted. Rather than keeping a fixed, static position, the camera’s movements allow us to feel the push-pull emotional tension of the scene. It orbits Bellamy and Clarke in a way that cinematically mirrors the gravitational pull they feel towards each other. For years and years, the two have danced around each other. Though distance and time separated them, they’ve always been inextricably tied together in common orbit. Like binary stars, Bellamy and Clarke orient themselves around a shared barycenter. Their center of gravity—the sun flaring at the center of the frame—coincides with the show’s key thematic elements: forgiveness, rebirth, redemption. The rising of the sun marks the start of a new day and, with it, another chance to do better.

With each dizzying motion of the camera, flashes of light shine between their silhouettes, obscured only to re-emerge seconds later as lens flare; The sequence, as a whole, is a study in subtle contrasts: the contrast between the white sun in the background, the light glinting off the water, the pale gold of the sky + of Clarke’s hair vs Bellamy and Clarke’s shadowy figures captured in low-exposure, the darkness of their clothing, Bellamy’s black hair. This balance of light and shadows/brightness and darkness mirrors the tenuous balance between hope and despair driving the scene. In parallel, the despair that consumes Clarke is a darkness balanced out by Bellamy, who maintains a more optimistic outlook for the future and serves as her guiding light.

[Additional Note: These cinematic contrasts are also a perfect illustration of the concept of yin and yang—the cosmic duality that reflects Bellamy and Clarke’s “head and heart” relationship. The two are equal, seemingly opposing forces but, in actuality, function in such a way that enforces their complementary and interdependent nature: One cannot exist without the other, and both are connected as two halves of a whole in perfect equilibrium. Yin and yang—the head and the heart—do not act as isolated parts, but rather continuously influence and interact with each other to bring forth balance and harmony.]

Hope.

In spite of everything, it shows its presence in the vibrant yellow tones of a scene filmed at golden hour; the honeyed glow creates a dreamy, inviting atmosphere, giving off a quality of softness and romanticism that balances out the heaviness of their conversation. Hope echoes in the melody as it conveys the inevitability of reuniting with a loved one in this life or the next: “It’s not the end. It’s all I know…I know I’ll see you, I know I’ll see you on the other side.” (In other words, we will meet again). Hope is felt through the warmth of two lovers embracing, the warmth of the rising sun on their faces.

As we cut to a final close-up shot of Bellamy, he delivers the last line of the scene with resolve: “I have to believe that that matters,” he murmurs softly, brows knit in concern. His eyes search Clarke’s, but her teary gaze is cast low as she chokes down a sob. Her close-up shot captures the internal conflict taking place:

It’s a mental battle—grappling with the urge to fall apart or to suppress the vortex of raw emotion churning inside her. Bleary-eyed, she turns away from Bellamy as if every instinct screams at her to flee, to bear the burden alone. Still, an unspoken conversation anchors her to the spot: “Together.” “I got you for that.” “I need you.” “If I’m on that list, you’re on that list.” “The heart and the head.” “You don’t have to do this alone.” Though devastation lines her face, the morning sunrise bathes her skin in light. Clarke draws a shaky breath. She turns back to Bellamy, then nods: a decision has been made. The camera switches from this close-up of Clarke to a hazy, low exposure medium shot as she leans into Bellamy, drawing strength from him (notice its resemblance to Miller and Jackson’s reunion). They wrap their arms around each other, and their bodies meld together. Clarke tucks her chin onto Bellamy’s shoulder. The immediate relief that she’s flooded with is palpable. She closes her eyes and sighs, and Bellamy rubs her back consolingly. The visual of their merging silhouettes—reminiscent of two suns eclipsing just above the horizon line—composes the final frame of the scene before the shot dissolves with a last “I know I’ll see you on the other side.”

There’s a true sense of finality to this closing shot which sets it apart from others before it—or, rather, establishes it as a culmination of every moment in Bellamy and Clarke’s “exhausting” history to get to this state of perfect alignment. The hug, in particular, serves as a departure from previous seasons’ hug scenes in which an interruption was often required to progress the conflict and reestablish some semblance of distance between the two of them.

In this season, however, though death and distance and other outside forces conspired to separate Bellamy and Clarke...they, against all odds, end it with bodies intertwined, defenses stripped away, never more unified both physically and emotionally: the heart and the head joined together in perfect equilibrium. Two bodies, two souls breathing, moving, thinking, and working as one.

#bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellamy x clarke #the 100 #s6 is for hot people with good taste fight me on it

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oleander-nin · 6 months

Text

Horrortober Day 28- Mistake(Yandere Rise Savage Raph x Reader)

A/N, not important: Sorry if cantaloupe man is OOC, I only used distant memories for his personality and what felt right. Also it's 2am again. I need to not be doing this. Uhhh, oops? Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Dale, off screen death, bones snapped, feral, Loss of mental consciousness, kidnapping(?), unwanted touch, panic, blood, death of animal(rat), sewage, dark themes, yandere themes.

Words: 2286

Summary: Savage Raph and sewer exploration don't mix.

“You want to explore the sewers?” You ask, looking at the bald teen standing in front of you in disgust. You shudder, trying not to imagine all the things down there. “What are you even planning on finding? Sewage?”

Dale scoffs, his high pitched voice nasally from the cold. “But we could find treasure!”

“Or feces. You know, the stuff that’s supposed to be down there.”

Dale frowns, clearly not amused by your attitude. He sighs, putting his hand on your shoulder and shaking you lightly. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Your curious spirit?”

“Literally anywhere but the sewers of New York.” You state plainly, your nose scrunching up in disgust. Nothing about this plan seemed like a good idea, let alone a fun way to spend your weekend. Your shoulders sag, looking at the manhole cover Dale led you to. “C’mon, can’t we just like, play video games or go to the movies like normal teens?”

Dale seems to ignore your statement, walking confidently over to the sewer plate. You stand back, watching him wrap his hands around the metal and try to lift it. It doesn’t even budge. You snort slightly, watching him struggle for a moment before walking over to help him. You felt guilty, especially after seeing how determined he was to lift it with his bare hands. Dale’s head whips around, his dark eyes narrowing as he spots a small bit of pipe sticking out of a nearby dumpster. He grabs it and brings it over, carefully hooking the end of the pipe onto the slots of the sewer cover.

“Sorry,” He mutters, both of you pushing your weight against the awkward angle of the pipe. “I forgot how heavy these things were.”

You feel confusion waft over you at the statement, especially at the implication this was something he had done or at least tried before. You shake it off, focusing on the task at hand instead. Best to let Dale be Dale.

It takes a while, but the both of you eventually get the manhole cover dislodged and move to the side, the rancid smell of human waste and dead rats wafting to the surface. You gag, staggering back while dry heaving. Dale looked equally sick, but determined.

“We go in.” He says, taking a deep, final breath of fresh air before slowly climbing down the ladder. You watch him descend into the tunnels, his sputtering breaths making you feel bad for the young adult despite it being fully his idea, and fully his fault. His head pops out of the hold for a moment, his beady eyes looking at you. “Aren’t you coming.”

You grimace, but slowly follow, trying to take as many gulps of the surface air before following him down, slowly dragging the cast iron plate back into its spot. Your stomach churns while the stench burns your nose, making your vision swim. The ladder is longer than you want it to be, each rung damp with something you weren’t sure you wanted to know the makeup of. Your feet finally hit solid ground, your hand going to your pocket and slipping your phone out so you could see. Dale does the same, two small lights shining through the dark tunnel. You can hear the skittering rats and bugs, and the smell isn’t getting any better despite what you try to force yourself to believe.

Dale shines his light down each tunnel, his voice a bit strained. “Well, do you want to go right or left?”

You roll your shoulders, still grimacing. “Back to the surface.”

“Not an option!” He says brightly, marching down the tunnel to your left. He lets out a nervous chuckle as he walks, looking back at you. “I uh… I’m not sure if we can even lift the grate back up anyways.”

You groan, following behind your friend, your flashlight glued to the ground in front of your feet to make sure you didn’t step in anything. Every slight squish your shoes made in the damp tunnels made you gag, your mind running wild on all the possibilities of what you were stepping in. You were majorly regretting following him down here, wishing you were back home cuddled into your bed with a movie playing on your phone. The trudge through the sewers gets slightly better as you slowly get somewhat used to the smell, the burning sensation in your nose dying down slightly.

“So,” You ask, stepping over a large dead rat, its body half floating in the river just next to your feet. You were slowly getting used to the noises down here. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, there’s an opening up ahead that has this really cool waterfall look from all the pipes going down.” Dale says, continuing on with the confidence of a cub at its first kill.

You pause, looking at him oddly. You shift your phone to your other hand, your palms sweaty from the walk despite the still chilly air. “When did you go down to the sewers before?”

“I saw April head down here once and tried to follow her.”

“Dale, that’s creepy.” You remark, staring sourly at the back of his head. Dale laughs nervously, his light flickering as he waves his phone around to check the walls.

“She was going into the sewers! I just wanted to see what she was doing.” He tries to argue, the shake in his voice proving even he knew it was a poor excuse.

“It’s called ‘talking to her’. You should try it sometime.”

“But she thinks I’m weird!” He protests, his high voice raising as he pouts. “Whenever I talk to her, she shoos me away.”

“You bring your lizard to school.”

“She brings green kids to school.”

Your jaw clicks shut as you sigh, nodding to his point. Everyone in school knew about the green kids that would show up every once in a while when April was in a bind. It was hard to miss them, considering their increasingly worse outfits in an attempt to hide the unnatural color. The conspiracy club had a whole board dedicated just to them.

“You’re both weird then.” You settle, chuckling at Dale’s defeated sigh. You both fall back into a comfortable silence, the water rushing and the rats scurry being the only accompanying sounds to your quiet steps. Despite still being uncomfortable, the sewers weren’t turning out as bad as you thought. It was disgusting and rank, but peaceful. Once you got used to wet rat fur rubbing against your ankles of course.

The tunnel slowly opens up, a maze of pipes and steel plating spreading out into a wide open space, most other tunnels gushing out sewage into the depths below. You watch it for a moment, slightly amazed but mostly confused.

“This is it.” Dale says proudly, spreading his arms out wide like he was showcasing for an art gallery. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“If beautiful is the sight of raw sewage being spit into a big hole, then sure.” You tease, but feeling some truth in your words. It was more impressive than beautiful, the sight of lumpy water ruining the image for you. Dale sighs dramatically, kicking the concrete of the path.

“You never appreciate anything I show you.” He mopes, his shoulders sagging exaggeratedly while he pouts. You roll your eyes and knock your shoulder against his, smiling at his goofy mood.

“C’mon, I’ve seen enough of the sewers now. I say we head back, yeah?” You ask, hoping he didn’t have more to show you. Dale sighs, then nods before taking a picture of the sewage falls. You snicker at him, already making plans to take him to real waterfalls soon. If he liked gunk being shot out of pipes, he was sure to appreciate the natural beauty of springs shot off cliffs.

You both turn to head back, but still when a loud whine can be heard to your right. Dale pauses and stares in the direction of the noise, whatever sense of adventure that dragged him down here hooking him once again. He waves you forward, his phone not set to a video as he peaks around the corner hiding you from whatever was babbling behind it. You peek your head over and gasp, your eyes widening at the large monster sitting in front of a fire atop a flat area that controls the valves. Your stomach knots as you stare at the large beast, a red bandana over its face and its eyes pure white. It wails over the fire, crying out for names you didn’t recognize. Dale snaps a few more photos before nodding to you, happy with whatever he collected.

You both slowly start to back away, keeping your eyes focused so you wouldn’t step into the gushing water and be swept into the pit. Dale seems to not pay as much attention, his foot slipping on a wet patch of ground as he falls towards the water, a loud scream coming from him as he grabs onto you for support. You yelp at the grip, latching onto a jutting pipe so you didn’t both get dragged into the rushing water just feet away. You help Dale stabilize himself, sighing in relief as you both press yourself against the brick wall. Your hands shake violently as you try to calm your nerves, barely noticing the absence of the loud wails heard just seconds before.

You pick up your head and squint into the darkness as you slowly calm, trying to ignore the growing paranoia from the loss of sound. Dale also stills, his eyes trained on the corner you were both peeking over just a few minutes before. The bald teen slowly inches his way over to the corner, signaling for you to be quiet as he peeks over the wall. His face contorts into confusion for a second before a large green hand grabs his entire face and yanks him over, screams erupting from the both of you.

You’re glued to the ground while Dale and the monster scream, the sound of crushed bones and Dale’s sobs ingraining themselves into your brain. Your mind screams at you to move, to run, to do anything, but you stay glued to your spot. You were shaking, your mind providing the images to the noises coming from the other side of the wall. Dale’s screams had stopped, the sound of bones snapping had not.

Your muscles only decide to move again when the monster emerges from the shadows, its nostrils flaring on its turtle-y beak. You spin on your heel and dash forward, not caring to watch your steps for once as you sprint away from the blood covered beast. You sob as you run, mourning your friend and scared out of your mind when you hear the thing give chase. Your heart pounds like a hammer in your chest and you were sure the muscle alone would break your ribs protecting it.

A rat’s squeal and a crunch is heard under your foot, your face heading towards the ground while you try to brace yourself with your arms. You hit the ground hard, your chest heaving as your vision swims. Your body shakes, forgetting the danger for a moment to focus on the pain radiating from your left wrist. You don’t bother to look at it longer than needed, pushing yourself up and trying to stumble to your feet. The action quickly proves futile as large hands pick you up by the underside of your armpits, swinging you for a moment before tugging you close.

You don’t dare to breathe as the monster holds you tight to the hard shell on its chest, the slow realization bringing you to recognize the monster as some type of turtle, although you had never known any to grow this big. The monster falls back into a sitting position, it’s hand running over your head like it was petting a cat. Quick and sudden thwacks sound against the pavement, slightly shaking the ground and the monster holding you.

“You… Alone.” It says mournfully, continuing to roughly stroke your head. It reminded you of a two year old first meeting a puppy, grabby hands and rough play being the first instinct to the small children. Your gulp, shaking slightly as you wait for the hands to start to hurt, for the grip to squeeze you so hard your eyes popped from your skull. You wait. And you wait. You slowly take a big gulp of air, letting yourself breathe for a moment in its arms.

It wasn’t hurting you for now, instead petting you like you were a lost cat it found on the street. The difference between you and Dale, you were uncertain, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As awful as it made you feel, you were just happy to still be alive and in one piece.

“Raph alone.” The beast remarks, squeezing you a bit more than gentle. You wheeze at the feeling, your bones creaking before it’s grip loosens once more. It wasn’t showing any sign of letting go, seeming to have bonded to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to make sense of it all. The monster, Raph you assumed, was keeping you in its arms, for what reason you were unsure. You hoped it would let go, wanting to run and run until the world reset and you could offer Dale an escape room instead of a doomed sewer exploration. Tears run down your cheeks while the beast named Raph continues to pet you, his chest rumbling against your back. You doubted it would ever let you go.

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x1yun4 · 4 months

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Small Energy Reading.

Please leave a like or reblog if this resonates.

Disclaimer.

Readings are to help you gain clarity and insight on your current situation and what you can do for your own benefit. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. This blog has been re-edited several times.

Masterpost | Feel free to make a request | Bibliomancy.

Pile 01.

"This will be my last confession: "I love you" never felt like any blessing, whispering like it's a secret only to condemn the one who hears it with a heavy heart."

— Florence Welch, from Heavy in Your Arms.

There is absolutely no doubt that this pile has gone through a lot in their lives, or perhaps during this period of your life. However, in this present moment — I am sensing that a lot of you have decided it's time to move on from the hurt that has been inflicted upon you through all this time. While for others in this pile might still be drowning in their suffering, feeling lost without hope. Clinging and scratching desperately at a surface that no longer does them good. Regardless of what your current situation is out of those two, I promise you that everything will be okay in the end. In fact, everything will work out according to your desires in the future. So, remember that your hard work, or even minimal work will not be futile. Whatever you do will push yourself into a better place. Therefore, if you have been thinking of something for the sake of your own peace, do it. Don't hold back, especially if it's something you desire from the bottom of your heart.

Of course, I understand that it's hard. It will always be easier said than done, right? But, think about this — ask yourself these questions whenever you have time for a brief introspection. Would your future self be grateful for the fact you stayed or the fact you left your current situation? Would your future self be grateful for the fact you took that risk or if you left it be? Would your future self be disappointed if you let yourself drown in misery or would they be happy you left your comfort zone in order to seek a sense of tranquility within? Even if you don't look too deeply into these questions, it's possible you might have answered unknowingly while reading.

Additional details.

Light at the end of the tunnel, a star in the night sky. Eclipses, the moonshine. White roses, lotuses, lilies. Fairy tales, stories of fiction, another life in imagination. The depths of the ocean, the waves of the waters, the sunset's reflection on the waves. Heartfelt hugs, the embrace of someone, gentle caresses.

Pile 02.

"You know you are in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams."

— Dr. Seuss.

How exciting! In this period of your life, love will be entering your life — calmly like the breeze of the wind, or similar to a passionate pursuit sweeping you off your feet. This love could be romantic, platonic or even familial. Whatever it is, this person will be someone who feels like your dream person down to their personality and even appearance. For instance, do you desire a romantic partner who has a rather cheerful demeanor who cares for you with their entire heart? If so, it's likely that you will meet someone exactly like that, or someone who resembles your ideal. The same for platonic and familial relations. Maybe you would have liked for your family members to be more understanding towards you? Or that you desire a friend who doesn't talk behind your back whenever you leave? What you desire will happen, especially in the area of love for this period of your life.

However, let's remember that love comes in all shapes and forms. And that sometimes what you want isn't what is meant for you in this exact moment. Therefore, try your best not to be disappointed if the specific type of love you were manifesting or desiring in your life didn't come towards you. Fortunately though, for most of you, if not all, within this pile — will experience a satisfactory result, so keep your head up high!

Additional details.

Laughter, hangouts at the park or parking lot. Cheers, clinking of glasses, celebrations. Swimming, floating on the water's surface, submerged into the waters. Feeling relaxed, sleepy. March, November — Spring or Autumn. Manifestations. The Universe, Gods. Beliefs, prayers. Candles.

Pile 03.

"But how could you live and have no story to tell?"

— Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You have been working hard, haven't you? Fighting against what you have been shown in the present moment. Perhaps feeling stressed at the lack of achievements and results surrounding you, although you did whatever you could at that time with the knowledge you knew then. A lack of motivation and being burnt out consumes you, but there's a fire within some of you who won't allow you guys to back down. There's voices in your head screaming at you to continue, to keep going — deathly afraid that you will fail, fall behind or completely turn away from your own goals. How stressful, don't you think? A neverending nightmare of nerves, yet a feeling of adrenaline washes over you every now and then.

For the people within this pile, whether or not you agree with the paragraph above — you will have a wonderful amount of luck either within academics, career or both. There will a high chance of success in these areas. For instance, the grades you desired will come true or your business will flourish wonderfully. Whatever effort you put out into the world will not be futile. Therefore, have complete belief in yourself and storm into the world with an air of confidence.

However, for the more unhealthy people within this pile — those who overwork themselves to the bone, the people who are workaholics, and so on, it's time to realize that it's okay to take care of yourself when it's needed. It's okay to relax your shoulders, sit down and do something you like instead of working. It's okay to take breaks when necessary. While work and academics are both important, so is your well-being. Please always keep that in mind, even when it gets hard to believe.

Additional details.

Workbooks, worksheets, folders. Scribbled papers, messy handwriting, doodles. Stickmen, question marks, drawings. Exams, tests, presentations. Stable income, silver jewelry. A rocky road, ups and downs. Feeling exhausted, but not giving up. Fictional novels, fantasy characters, a second home. Imagination, dreams. Fishing. Goldfish, jellyfish, eel, lobsters.

Pile 04.

Tell me every terrible thing you did, and let me love you anyway.

— Edgar Allen Poe.

“Am I loved?” is a question that you might have come across quite often within your own mind. You might have answered “of course, but I don't love myself.” Others might answer, “I don't feel loved. However, I know my worth.” Possibly some of you within this pile feels like you are not loved by those around you and that you are unable to wholeheartedly love yourself as well. You have gone through your days without feeling your need for love be fulfilled. And I'm sure that times when all your grief comes at you in waves, it is haunting. It is painful, it stabs you in the heart. And you feel so incomplete, so empty, so lacking. You feel like something is missing, and it leaves behind a devastating ache within.

That's why, in this energy check-up reading — you are being asked to prioritize yourself. This is a time to focus on yourself through fulfilling your needs, finding love within and outside of yourself, introspection, and more. Teach yourself how you can find joy with your own company, instead of becoming dependent on the thoughts and feelings of those around you. Place yourself first, and if that's too much — place yourself in the top three based on importance. So pile four, don't lead yourself to destruction. Find balance in order to feel peace.

Additional details.

Lilies, specifically the spider lily of death. Reincarnation, shedding of oneself, metamorphosis. Butterflies in general, or purple ones. Scribbles, messy calligraphy, journaling, ink stains. Frenzied nights, the moonlight shining into a room. Fireplace, candle lit nights.

#x1yun4 #divination #intuitive readings #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot #bibliomancy #intuition #tarot love reading #pick a picture #career reading #future reading #energy #love reading #love pac #spirituality

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