#and also so in line with like . . . her entire body of work but i've already seen people bel ike

[artbyblastweave]

ask game; Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl aka Antares

I've always thought that Victoria's first appearance is quite the bit of deft needle-threading.

The thing about Interlude 2 is that Vicky is our first example of one of this setting's established heroes actively fighting crime- not just swooping in to vulture up the accomplishments of an up-and-comer- and a therefore a major goal of the sequence is to ensure that the audience comes away structurally unnerved by what counts as business as usual for the heroes, set the stage for the hurricane of ass-covering to come. So we have a sequence where she lords her power over a baseline criminal who has no realistic chance to fight back or get away, where she cripples and nearly kills him in a display of excessive force, where she uses her connections to other capes to duck out on the consequences of her excess once she realizes that she's crossed certain moral and optical Rubicons. All of this is gross, all of this speaks to an alarmingly cavalier attitude amongst even the most ostensibly accountable heroes. And from a protagonistic perspective, all of this serves to soften the blow of Taylor's actions at the bank in act three, because we're predisposed to see Vicky as an arrogant, overprivileged loose cannon who'd actually have a significantly higher body count than all of the Undersiders put together if not for the cushion afforded to her by her status as a superhero. A golden child up against the already put-upon underdog.

But. She also does all of that to a Neo-Nazi, who was fresh off committing a hate crime. I mean, if this was violence against a purse-snatcher, a drug-dealer- It would be very, very easy to block this sequence in a way that would set her up as a villain and nothing else for the rest of the work. In The Boys, for example, Homelander debuts by incinerating one bank robber's hand and throwing another a thousand feet into the air to land hard on a parked car, and the dissonance between that casual brutality and his chumminess with the onlookers is the thematic backbone for... basically the entire show, because he was in such total control of the situation that the only reason to do it that way is that he fundamentally doesn't care. In Super Crooks, it's made abundantly clear that the superheroes trying to arrest the titular supervillains are significantly more destructive to the city than the villains are, because their institutional backing removes any incentive to do anything but pursue the flashiest arrests possible for the sake of ratings. But Glory Girl? She's a sixteen year old putting her money where her mouth is on the unconsidered-dilettante suburban-left-ish tumblrite rallying cry of punching a Nazi. She's living out a near-boilerplate superheroic fantasy of righteous violence against an uncomplicatedly righteous target- likely a fantasy entertained at least once by the median cape fan, if we're being honest- and then, in the aftermath, blood on her hands and on the pavement, staring down the full weight of the prospect of actually having killed a person in an unconsidered spate of rage, is very much a panicked teenager about it, scrambling for a way to walk it back.

Which, independent of the specifics of whether this particular asshole had it coming, is the problematic element of this that generalizes- that superheroism in this world is a system that puts the social license to use concrete-shattering power in the hands of a kid with the judgement and attitude of someone scheming up ways to dodge curfew. She's done this before, she's gonna keep doing this, she's gonna keep being two-faced about it with her public-facing golden-girl image. But she wasn't wrong to be angry. And the fact that this is the kind of thing she gets angry about is hard to separate from later beats where she tries to do right by people, hard to separate from her willingness to put herself on the line against Endbringers and the Slaughterhouse 9. It's a bad situation, a horrible system that's guaranteed to incentivize bad behavior, they shouldn't be assigning any of this shit to a 17-year-old. But later on, when things go south for her, the seeds are planted so that she can retain audience sympathy in a way that she likely wouldn't be able to if this story was a banal hatswap, with unfairly maligned "villains" who do no real wrong against supervillains who happen to call themselves superheroes.

[pinknightsinmymind]

【 the late shift - abby anderson | NSFW 】

wife!doctor!abby anderson x fem!wife!reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT MDNI

wc: 6.1k

summary: it's your precious wife's birthday. what better way to celebrate than dinner and birthday sex?

content: modern!au, wife!doctor!abby, wife!reader, descriptions of cooking (bc i love food❤️), domesticity with abby (she helps you cook), switch!abby, switch!reader, dom&sub!reader, dom&sub!abby, top&bottom!reader, top&bottom!abby, hickies, oral sex (r!receiving & abby!receiving), use of toys (abby!receiving), face sitting, fingering (abby!receiving), strap-on usage (r!receiving), abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, doggy position, nipple play, praise, slight degradation (like once), slight spit kink, body worship, slight dumbification, breeding kink, abby lowkey having a housewife kink, slight spanking (abby just loves slapping your ass), slight dacryphillia, mentions of wine, reader and abby a lil tipsy, use of pet names (baby, babe, love, pretty girl, honey, etc.), mentions of nudes

a/n: this is the filthiest thing i've ever written. this is also the fic that won the poll i posted, so pls enjoy!! also, even though the morning sex option lost on the poll, i'm still gonna post that fic soon, and i can't wait for yall to read it!! pls tell me what you think about this fic bc i'd love to hear!! in this fic i introduce to you my abby happy trail agenda :)) again i just wanna thank you for all your support and love on my fics i appreciate every ounce of it i love yall so much <333

Abby was running late from work today—of all days—like she said she wouldn’t. Despite the fact it was her birthday, she couldn’t take the day off since one of her coworkers was on vacation at the moment. So, with no one else to cover the shift, she begrudgingly went to work on the one day she wanted off more than anything. The entire time she wished she were home and not at the hospital, but on her lunch break she sent you a photo of the small cake her coworker and friend, Nora, brought her. Since work would drain her by the time she got home, all she wanted was a simple at-home celebration that included dinner with you. She said she would be too tired for anything more than that, but you still had a few surprises lined up for her. You had her gifts waiting for her in your bedroom, a cake in the fridge, and you also had a brand new lingerie set you were wearing underneath your clothes. One that you may or may not have sent photos of your body in to tease her while she was at work. But that was neither here nor there.

However, despite both of your best efforts, today just wasn’t playing out how either of you wanted. She had promised she’d be home tonight by five to celebrate her birthday, but it was already past seven. You had gotten texts from her earlier explaining that an emergency had come up with one of her patients and that she’d be running late. You understood that her work was important and, of course, weren’t mad at her for something out of her control. You also knew she cared a lot about her patients and took her work seriously. You were just a little sad that you couldn’t celebrate her birthday sooner and that you had to wait a little longer. While sitting on the couch, you got a text from Abby saying she was finally on her way home. You decided now would be the best time to start getting dinner ready, and headed to the kitchen to prepare everything. You cleaned up your big, granite counter so you’d have space for all your ingredients, and pulled out a cutting board. You had barely finished chopping the mushrooms and tomatoes when you heard the front door opening and closing. You heard Abby’s keys jingling as her steady footsteps sounded from the foyer all the way into the den.

“[Y/N]?” she called.

“In the kitchen!” you responded, leaning against the counter as you waited for her to emerge. She was still in her scrubs and had her backpack on, but as soon as she saw you she slipped it off and let it drop to the floor.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” she said immediately. She walked up to you and pulled you into a hug. “One of my patients had an emergency that I needed to take care of. I had barely finished packing my things up when it happened. I didn’t even get the chance to clock out.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I know these things happen.” Abby pulled away from the hug, her hands slipping from your shoulders down to your waist. She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You sure? I know you wanted today to be special.”

“I mean, I’m a little sad you came home later than usual, but at least you’re here now,” you explained.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said again. She craned her face down to your neck and began to place kisses along your collarbones and the side of your neck. “I really wanted to come home early like you wanted.”

“It’s okay. You texted me right on time, so at least I hadn’t started making dinner. It would’ve gone cold.”

“Now that would’ve made me even sadder,” Abby said, pulling her face out from the crook of your neck. She rubbed lazy circles on your back before picking you up without warning. She sat you down on the kitchen counter and made sure to stand in between your legs. She placed more kisses on your neck and jaw, her hands rubbing up and down your thighs. “You’re such an angel. Let me make it up to you, hm?”

“Abs,” you said quietly.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“But you’re still in your scrubs,” you said to her.

“And?” She bit the skin around your neck, then sucked on it a little before licking it. A small whine left your lips at the feeling as you grasped onto her big arms. “I thought you said they look good on me?”

“You’re a huge germaphobe. You know this,” you scolded her. Abby stopped what she was doing and sighed.

“Fine, you’re right. I’ll shower, but when I get out, it’s over for you,” she warned.

“Sure it is, ma’am,” you joked with her.

“Wanna bet?” she asked. She turned to look at you, raising one of her eyebrows as she gave your body a once over.

“Go take a shower, Abigail,” you said jokingly. She laughed as she turned around to walk to your bedroom.

“Using my full government name now? Wow,” she said with fake hurt before disappearing down the hall. You chuckled a little and rolled your eyes at her dramatics.

First order of business: sauce. You prepped the pan and poured in the tomato sauce that Abby liked and added the chopped up tomatoes and mushrooms to the mix. While the sauce was heating up, you began to prepare the pot to boil the pasta. You made fun of Abby for having bowties as her favorite pasta—you told her it was so cute for someone as tough-looking as her—but it was her favorite so of course you’d make it. You salted the water as you turned up the temperature of the oven. Now all that was left was to make the chicken. The chicken had been defrosting in the sink for a while, and you still had to set up the bowls of batter and crumbs. You decided to coat the chicken in panko bread crumbs for a more crunchy texture, the sound of the sizzling oil filling the air as you dropped the chicken in. The sauce you had made was already simmering on the stove, and you knew it would be finished by the time the chicken was. While you set the chicken to fry, you finally added the pasta into the now boiling water.

You were checking on the chicken when you felt a pair of hands slide across your stomach from behind you. You stifle a chuckle at the feeling as you hadn’t heard Abby approach you and because it made you flustered. Her hands roamed from your stomach to ghost over your ribcage, down to your lower abdomen, repeat. She knew just how to fluster you.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you said to her. You grabbed the tongs nearby and flipped the pieces of chicken over.

“You look so cute like this,” Abby whispered.

“Oh, yeah?” you asked. “What about me is cute to you right now?”

“The fact that you’re making me dinner.” One of her hands slid down from your stomach and past your thighs before she started to grope your ass.

“Abby!” you yelled. “Stop being so horny.” Although you were technically scolding her, you were laughing a little bit as you did. You wanted to pretend you didn’t like Abby’s antics, but you couldn’t. She was just so endearing, and you did love her touch.

“Alright, alright. I’ll keep my hands above your ass. Is that better?” she teased.

“Much better.” You took out two pieces of chicken that were done frying and placed them on the pan you set out to collect them after they were cooked. After you finished with the chicken you were planning on covering them in mozzarella to sit in the oven for a few minutes. You felt Abby’s hand move from your ass and back to caressing your stomach and your hips. “You’re touchy today.”

“And are you complaining?” she asked in a low voice. She nuzzled her face into your neck as she began to place kisses all over your skin. She was gingerly ghosting over that one spot that drove you crazy, barely leaving a trace of her warmth behind as her skin grazed past yours. Her lips would practically hover over as if she was going to kiss you before moving. What a tease.

“No, but aren’t you afraid of the oil splattering us?”

“I don’t know. I think it could be kind of sexy. Like wax play or something.”

“You are unbelievable,” you laughed. “If you want to be helpful, can you get the mozzarella out of the fridge? The packaging’s brand new.”

She placed a few more kisses on the back of your neck. “Yes, ma’am.” She pulled away from your body, but not before smacking your ass.

“Abigail Anderson,” you warned.

“[Y/N] Anderson,” she said as she walked to the fridge. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll even shred it for you,” she announced.

“Wow. You’re so kind,” you said sarcastically. You took out the two final pieces of chicken and turned the burner beneath the pan off. In the meantime, you could hear Abby pulling out the cheese grater and a bowl to get to work. You grabbed a nearby spoon and stirred the pasta a little bit to see how close it was to being ready.

“Here you go, love.” Abby suddenly appeared at your side with the shredded mozzarella in a bowl for you. She gave you a kiss on the cheek, one you quickly returned as you grabbed the bowl from her hands.

“Thank you, babe.”

“No problem. Let me drain the pasta for you, okay?” Abby said. You nodded as you turned off the sauce and got to work on the chicken. You drizzled an equal amount of cheese on each piece of chicken before sliding it into the oven. While you were busy with that, you could hear Abby digging around to find the strainer. It didn’t take her long, and before you knew it you could hear the water going down the sink’s drain. After you closed the oven, you leaned against the counter and let out a sigh. Only a few more minutes and dinner would be ready. You watched Abby as she transferred the pasta back to its pot before leaving the strainer by the kitchen sink. When Abby turned around, she gave you a sheepish smile as she waltzed to the stove. She put the pot on one of the empty burners before sauntering over to you. She pulled you by your hips closer to her.

“Can’t wait to eat this food,” she said. “You worked so hard on it.”

“Well, it’s your birthday!” you said excitedly. “I wanted it to be special.”

“And you achieved just that.” Abby leaned in, her lips touching yours so gently and with such passion. Her arms wrapped around you tightly as she pulled you closer. Your hands found their way to her hair as you got enraptured in the kiss. Her hair was down at the moment, and it was always such a sight to see. You loved the way it framed her face, how it seemed to make her features light up. She felt so good against you, and you could smell the coconut shampoo she used and the pine soap that made her smell so fresh and clean. God, she was so addicting, and as much as you loved kissing her, your eyes widened when you remembered the chicken inside the stove.

“Abby,” you said.

“What is it, baby?” she whispered, clearly thinking you were about to ask her something else.

“The chicken!” you said, and pulled away from her immediately. You yanked the stove open and pulled the food out. The delicious scent immediately wafted to your nose, and you could feel your stomach come to life with hunger.

“God, that looks delicious,” Abby said. “Yeah, I’m fucking you good tonight.” You wanted to make a joke about how vulgar her words were, but you already knew what she would say in response: “But you like it, don’t you?” The answer would be “yes,” and that’s why you let the words stay in your mouth.

After the successful dinner, you brought Abby’s gifts out from your bedroom to let her open them up. You bought her the gold bracelet she had been eyeing for a while, a special edition copy of her favorite book, and concert tickets for her favorite band. To say she was pleased was an understatement. After Abby opened her presents, she ran to your pantry to pull out the brand new bottle of wine she had hidden for this occasion. It was a surprise from her to you for such a great day so far. One and a half glasses of wine later, you and Abby were cuddling on the couch together. At least that’s what it had begun as. The two of you nursing your glasses of wine, sitting together underneath a blanket, a random show playing on the TV, until the drinks started to make you both a little frisky. Your glasses had both been abandoned on the coffee table in front of you, Abby’s lips on yours as she pulled you into her lap. Her hands were roaming all over your body. From your ass to your hips, your waist to beneath your bra. While on the outside she continued her movements without hesitation, on the inside she felt herself getting flustered. She had seen the photos you sent her while she was at work—she spent a good few minutes gawking at them—but she didn’t think you were still wearing the lingerie set. The bra you were wearing was lacy and thin, and was that a bow in the center? You would be the death of her. She just wanted all of you in this moment, and no matter how much she pulled you into her body, it wasn’t close enough. Her lips wandered from your jaw down to your neck, leaving scarlet marks there in her wake.

“I’ve wanted you so bad all day, baby,” she whispered. Her hands began fiddling with your nipples through your bra. The fabric was so thin it was like you weren’t wearing anything at all. “So bad. Especially after you teased me while I was at work.” Your lips found hers again, and to your surprise, Abby’s hands moved to your hips as she made you grind onto her. A small whimper left your mouth at the sudden friction, the noises you made immediately swallowed by her kiss.

“Abby,” you moaned. She smiled at the mention of her name, but her lips stayed on yours.

“What is it?” she asked between kisses.

“I need you.” She moved your hips into hers again, the ache in between your legs becoming too much. You just needed her to make it go away. “Let’s go to our room.” You could feel Abby perk up at the request, and she didn’t hesitate to push the blanket off both your bodies. She adjusted your legs so they were wrapped around her waist, strengthening her grip around your ass. She got up from the couch and began walking down the hall to your bedroom. She stopped kissing you to keep an eye on where she was headed, but you started to kiss her all over her neck. She gave your ass a particularly harsh squeeze before she pushed the door open to your room. She continued her march to your bed, setting you down onto the soft mattress before her. When she plopped down next to you in bed, your hands didn’t hesitate to wander towards the hem of her shirt, pulling it off her body desperately. To your delight, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Your lips found their way to her breasts, kissing all over them and her nipples. Before Abby knew it, you had your lips wrapped around her nipples, sucking and kissing them gently.

“Fuck, baby,” she groaned. “Treat me so good.”

“Wanna taste you,” you mumbled against her skin. “Let me eat you out.” Abby wasn’t going to object, because she wanted you to do as you asked just as bad as you did. “Say it,” you commanded.

“I want you to eat me out,” she whined. You kissed down from her breasts to her stomach, fingers ghosting over her pale, blonde happy trail. You pulled her sweatpants down and—No panties. You took her in like the beautiful sight she was.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath at all, Abs?” you teased. “Is that how bad you’ve needed me?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Lay down,” you ordered her. She did as you asked, laying on top of your well-made bed that would soon be messed up when you were done with her. You moved closer to her and grabbed ahold of her thighs, kissing them as you inched upwards towards her center. You could see how wet and needy she was for your touch. You didn’t hesitate to begin sucking at her clit, because you knew that was just the place she needed your attention from the most. You’d spare her some teasing. She moaned as soon as she felt the contact, squirming from the stimulation. You wrapped your arms around her thighs to hold her in place and pull her closer to you. You could feel her pubic hair scratching your face as you dug in, but it was never a sensation you hated. You enjoyed having all of her, every piece of her. You loved her taste on your tongue, the way she moaned and whimpered with every movement of it. You just loved making her feel good.

She kept squirming underneath you, every sound coming out of her either being a whine or a whimper. She always got desperate like this whenever she was receiving, and it was always such a sight. Abby liked to portray herself as this strong, dominant person, but that image of her always quickly dissipated as soon as your mouth was on her pussy. That version of Abby was nowhere to be found, not when you were taking care of her like this, giving her the space to let her guard down for once.

“Baby, you need to stop squirming,” you warned her. “You keep moving away from me. Feels that good, love?”

“So good,” she choked out. You stopped sucking on her clit, instead choosing to circle it with your thumb, only achingly slow. A pathetic whimper left her lips, and you knew she was feeling desperate. That was the point. You wanted to play with her, to make her beg. You kept moving your thumb slowly, no matter how much she whined. She’d have to ask you if she wanted more.

“What’s the matter?” you teased her. “You sound like you’re crying. What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“Need you,” she cried. “Please. I need more.”

“What do you need? Gotta tell me exactly what you want,” you explain.

“I need your mouth on me. Suck on my clit, please.” She was just so needy. How could you deny her? You returned your lips to her cunt, licking her through her folds, admiring how much wetter she had grown in the process. She tasted so sweet on your tongue as you lightly brushed it over her clit before taking it back into your mouth to suck on it again. You could feel her thighs tightening around you, and you let her do it. You knew this meant she was getting close, and you didn’t let up on your actions. You kept kissing and licking and sucking, wanting to do anything your wife may have needed. Her thighs were shaking by this point.

“Gonna cum,” she whimpered. Her hands were gripping onto the bed sheets, her head tilting as she let out rough moans. She was close, and a loud moan left her mouth suddenly. That’s how you knew she came, but you weren’t done. While she was still sensitive, you began to circle your thumb around her clit, little whimpers leaving her lips at the feeling. You reached into the bedside stand and pulled out the dildo you knew she kept there, licking it to get it wet.

“Can you take it, love?” you asked her. She nodded. “What did we talk about? Use your words, Abs,” you scolded her.

“I can take it. Please, put it inside me.” You did as she asked, slowly thrusting it inside her. You didn’t stop circling her clit as you did so, intent on making sure she felt good each step of the way. A groan left Abby’s lips as she felt the dildo slowly entering her inch by inch. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help any of the loud moans leaving her mouth when you were this good to her.

“Just like that, baby,” you encouraged her. “Just like that. Keep moaning for me.” You finally had the dildo to the hilt inside her, leaving it in for a moment to let her adjust. After you let her get comfortable, you pulled it out and let it sink back within her, solidifying a steady pace for her.

“It feels so good. God, it’s so good,” she moaned. You smiled at her reaction, making sure to continue giving her just what she needed. You continued at the pace you set, Abby growing increasingly desperate with each drag of the toy. “Harder. Please. Harder,” she begged. And who were you to deny what your love wanted? You did just as she asked, moving the dildo at the same speed, but with a greater intensity like she asked. There were tears brimming her eyes as she continued moaning. She felt so good, unable to fully put into words just how amazing you made her feel. All she knew is that she didn’t want this to end.

“Are you gonna cum for me, darling?” you asked her.

“Fuck,” she moaned. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m gonna cum.” You continued your actions as she asked, watching as she creamed all over the toy. Abby was catching her breath as you pulled the toy out of her and rushed to put it in the bathroom sink. When you came back, Abby was sitting up in bed with a new fire in your eyes. As soon as you got close enough to her, she grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the bed. She stood up from the bed and got down on her knees in front of you. She didn’t hesitate to pull your jeans down your legs, her eyes immediately landing on the pretty lingerie set underneath your pants. She pulled your legs apart, unable to stop herself from kissing your cunt through your panties, all pretty and lacy in your favorite color. She was so overwhelmed with love and lust, unsure what to do with herself and the rush of emotions filling her body. It didn’t help that you were both a little tipsy. She licked a stripe over the fabric, your hands automatically moving to grab her hair. After a few more teasing licks, she finally pulled your panties down, and she could see how wet you were. You were practically glistening, all pretty and ready just for her. She dug into you immediately, her tongue tasting and feeling every part of you.

“Taste so good, love,” she groaned. The moans leaving your lips were addictive. It was her favorite part of pleasuring you: hearing how good you felt. And when you’d finally cum on her face? That’s what made it all worth it. She continued sucking on your clit, moaning at the feeling of your growing wetness on her lips. Your grip kept tightening on her hair, and she loved it. She was on her knees before you, and she felt that was exactly where she belonged—worshiping you.

“You know what I want?” she suddenly spoke up. She trailed her lips away from your center and began kissing your thighs as she looked up at you. You could tell by the look in her eyes she had an idea. “Want you to sit on my face, love. Can you do that for me?” You couldn’t say no. Not when she was looking up at you like that.

“Yes,” you answered. The switch from your dominant personality from earlier to this submissive one was making Abby’s head spin.

“Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” Abby rose from her position on the ground and crawled onto the bed before laying down. “Come on, babe. I’m all ready for you.” You moved from where you were sitting on the edge of the bed towards her body. You straddled her hips and leaned down to kiss her, hoping to convey to her all the love and longing you were feeling. Abby’s hands moved from her sides to rub against your hips before promptly slapping your ass. You let out a yelp at the sensation, but it only made you wetter. “Come on. Stop teasing me. I need to taste you again. Need to show my sweet, little wife how much I love her.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt her slap your ass again. “You made me a nice, home-cooked meal to celebrate my birthday, and I think that means I should be putting a baby in you by the end of the night. What do you think?”

“Please, Abs,” you whined. “I want you so bad.”

“Then sit on my face, pretty girl. You know that’s what I want.” You finally pulled your lips away from hers and removed yourself from her lap. You looked down at Abby one last time before sliding one of your legs to rest on the other side of her head until you were practically straddling her. You had yet to set yourself down on her face yet, but Abby waited, her hands already reaching up to start tracing the skin over your ass and hips. You slowly situated yourself against her mouth, something you’ve done countless times before, but the anticipation always consumed you.

The first thing you felt was the warmth of her lips, then the wetness of her tongue as she started to lick your folds. A whine left your lips at the feeling, so desperate for your wife like always. Abby’s grip on your ass was tight as she held you in place, ensuring that she’d be able to devour you just like she wanted. She rocked your hips as she licked your cunt and lapped up all your juices. The friction was making you see stars. She kept moving you, guiding your movements onto her tongue, never once stopping for a second. You felt her let out a small moan, the vibrations reverberating and amplifying your pleasure. Abby suddenly stilled the movements of your hips, but her grip tightened as you felt her start to suck your clit.

“Oh, Abby, just like that,” you moaned. You didn’t have to tell her twice, as her tongue was already swirling around your clit just how you liked it. You felt so good, the pleasure overwhelming your body from just how good Abby was treating you. She was definitely keeping her promise from earlier. You moaned at the feeling of her tongue working against you. You could feel the knot growing in your stomach, building faster and faster. The moans leaving your lips were desperate, but you couldn’t help it when this was how Abby made you feel. She made you feel alive, like your whole body was on fire.

“I’m close,” you moaned. “I’m so close.” Your hands gripped onto your thighs as Abby’s grip was too strong for you to move anywhere else. Instead, you steadily rocked your hips against her face, the tip of her nose knocking into your clit. The friction and combined with the way Abby was eating you out was intense, and within seconds you felt yourself cumming all over her face. Abby continued sucking on your clit to fuck you through your orgasm, but she wasn’t done with you yet. She tapped onto your thighs, a sign you recognized as her asking you to get off her. You did as she asked and removed yourself from her face to settle into the sheets. Abby sat up in bed, and she wasted no time in kissing you wildly. You could feel the wetness on her face and taste yourself on her tongue, completely lost in the feeling of her. You could do this with her for hours if she wanted. You felt her reach down to your t-shirt and raised it over your head as she immediately ogled at the pretty bra you had on. It matched your panties, and it looked so gorgeous on you. She kissed you hungrily, palming at your breasts. She reached behind you to unclip your bra and threw it somewhere randomly. She was back on you in an instant, clearly not satisfied.

“You want my cock in you, baby? Want me to fill you up?”

“God, yes, Abby,” you answered.

“I’ll go get it.” You watched as she retreated to your closet that held most of your toys, the main one being her strap. She returned to your bedside with both the flesh-colored dildo and harness in her hands. “Help me put it on, honey.” You did as she asked and moved towards the edge of the bed. Abby slipped her legs through the harness, but you helped her tighten the straps and adjust it on her hips. She stroked your cheeks and hair as you did so with a soft smile on her face.

“Okay, it’s ready, Abs,” you announced.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you turn around and get on your hands and knees for me, huh?” You didn’t hesitate to do as she asked, getting yourself comfortable in the position that was without a doubt Abby’s favorite. You felt Abby step closer to your body, the strap momentarily pressing against your skin. You heard Abby spitting, and before you knew it you felt something wet coating your cunt. She rubbed the strap through your folds, teasing your clit before bringing it back up to your hole. You were still so wet and ready for her; it made her feel lightheaded. Abby started teasing your entrance with her cock, and you let out a small whimper in response. She pushed it in a tiny bit, but just that small thrust had you whining. She pulled it out, then put it back in the same amount, then out again. She was teasing you, and she reveled in every moment of it. She did the same pattern again, this time pushing it in up to its head. She could hear the desperate whines leaving your mouth, but she was a bully when it came to teasing.

“Abby!” you whined. She let out a quiet chuckle.

“Is something wrong, baby?” she asked, pulling out yet again.

“Yes! You’re teas—” Before you could finish, she pushed it back into you again, nearly half-way now. It caught you off guard, a gasp leaving your lips at the sensation.

“What was that?” she asked.

“You’re teasing me,” you said. Abby pulled out of you again, and it left you feeling so empty. You just wanted her deep inside of you. “Please, Abby. I need you inside me. Please.”

“Fuck. I can’t tell you no, baby.” Without warning, you felt her shove the entire thing inside you this time. You moaned loudly at the sudden force. “Like that? Wanted me deep inside you like this?”

“Yes,” you answered. Abby grabbed onto your hips roughly, preparing herself as she slid her dick out of you a tiny bit before slamming it back in, then repeating. She was starting off slow and steady, but she was giving you what you needed. Your moans were already in full force, bouncing off the walls and filling her ears like sweet music. She got off on hearing you just as much as she did from seeing how you looked while she fucked you from behind. She started to pick up her pace a little bit, and she could see you reaching to grab at the bedsheets. She couldn’t help the smirk that appeared across her face.

“That’s it,” she encouraged. “Just like that. Got you going dumb on my cock already, huh?” She knew she wasn’t going to get an answer out of you since your face was buried in the mattress, but she was still going to ask. “Taking it so good, baby. Fuck, I love seeing you like this. All pretty and dumb on my cock. When I’m done with you, I’m gonna fill you all the way up. You’d like that?”

“Please. I need you to fill me up,” you cried out. Abby continued her pace, but when she heard your voice, she could tell that you were crying. It turned her on even more.

“Gonna let me cum inside and make you my pretty, little cumslut? Want me to get you fucking pregnant?” she asked.

“Yes!” you cried out. Abby was many things, but a composed woman at a time like this wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck,” she grunted. She loved the enthusiasm of your answer, speeding up the pace of her thrusts. She could feel the harness rubbing against her clit, and it was driving her wild. She kept fucking into you, pulling your hips into hers over and over again. Yeah, she was going to fuck you good, and she was going to make sure you were screaming the whole night. She could hear your skin slapping against hers as she continued her pace, and before she knew it her moans were joining in with yours. She just felt so amazing. Everything about this moment did.

“Abby! Fuck, Abby, you’re so deep. It’s so good.” You words were incoherent babbles, and that’s how Abby knew she was doing a good job for sure.

“I know, baby. I’m fucking you just right, huh? Just like you need.” She barely managed to get the words out, panting and grunting from her own pleasure. It just felt so good to take you in this position. You were having a hard time speaking yourself, your brain all fuzzy and fucked out. The feeling of Abby’s cock dragging inside your walls and that spot it was hitting were more than enough to fuck you dumb. It was all you ever needed. You could feel the tears that were drying on your cheeks as Abby continued to overstimulate you. You could feel yourself getting closer yet again, the feeling more than you could bear.

“Abby. Abby. I think I’m cumming,” you cried. “I’m gonna cum.” You were too out of it to speak, so caught up in the feeling of her inside you and her promises of breeding you. It all made you feel so good, the ideas of her cumming inside you upping your pleasure by a tenfold.

“Cum on my cock, baby. Know you can do it.” Abby didn’t let up her pace one bit, and you reached down to rub your clit as she fucked into you. Fuck. There was no one like Abby, and soon you found yourself cumming harder than ever. The moan that was ripped from your body sounded more like a scream as you continued to rub your clit while it washed over you. Abby was close, too, and hearing the sounds of your pleasure was enough to send her over the edge. Abby grunted loudly, feeling herself cum as the movement of her strap stilled inside you. You both stayed like that for a second to cool down, and after a moment Abby slowly pulled out of you. You moved out of the position you were in and collapsed on the bed. Abby pulled the harness and strap off her body, abandoning it on the bedside table. She’d leave cleaning it for later. She immediately dived into bed, fixing the covers for you both as she pulled you into her arms. She started kissing your forehead as she rubbed your back.

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “Just tired.”

“Me, too. You did so good for me, baby.”

“Thanks, Abs. You were really good for me, too.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “I love you. I’m so sleepy,” you whispered. Abby laughed at that.

“I love you, too. Now, let’s go to sleep, babe. I’m off tomorrow, remember?”

“Can we get coffee tomorrow?” you asked.

“Of course, baby. We’ll go shopping, too, if you want.”

“You’re so great, Abs. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she replied, watching how your eyes fluttered shut. What a sleepy thing, she thought, but she’d have you no other way. That’s what she promised in her vows.

[youaintnothinbuta]

could u write something for austin where reader is obsessed with his hair especially when she goes with him on set and they get wet bc he’s sweating too much, and once it turns her on sm that it ends up with him eating her out with her hands buried in them and when it’s too much she pulls it a little harder and austin just loves it

“You're so good at this.” — austin butler x reader

Summary: see request^^

Pairing: austin butler x fem!reader

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mature language, oral (f receiving), probably typos im sorryyyy

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stood nervously outside the set of Masters of the Air, clutching your pass, waiting to be let in. Your boyfriend, Austin, was in the middle of filming, and you didn't want be any cause of distraction. His manager, a familiar face to you, greeted you and whispered, “Just slip in quietly, Y/N. They should be done with these takes in about 20 minutes.”

You nodded, your heart racing with excitement, as you followed her onto the set. The lights were blindingly bright, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and costume fabric. You spotted Austin immediately, his chiseled features set in a determined expression as he delivered his lines. His voice too —deep, commanding, and authoritative— it sent shivers down your spine as he barked orders at his fellow actors.

You sat down quietly and out of view of him and any of the other actors. You couldn't help but notice how good he looked, his blonde hair mussed and his eyes gleaming with intensity. The layered costume added bulk to his already impressive physique, and the sweat dripping down his face only added to his sexiness. You felt that familiar fire ignite in your tummy as you watched your man at work. You pressed your thighs firmly together, trying to contain the desire that was building inside you.

After what felt like an eternity, the director called for a lunch break, and immediately the chatter in the room began.

“Austin!” You called. He perked up, a bright smile spreading across his face as he heard your voice, his eyes locking onto yours instantly.

“Baby, hi,” he said, striding towards you with long, purposeful strides.

You smiled, feeling a little shy but also incredibly turned on. You felt a flutter in your chest as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

“I didn't know you were coming today,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Sorry,” he apologised for being sweaty, tugging on his thick coat, “I feel like I’m melting in this thing.”

"I wanted to surprise you," you whispered back, your hands sliding up his chest to toy with the buttons on his costume, “and you look amazing.”

Austin chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Do I?”

You nodded, responding to him. You found yourself getting more and more turned on by Austin's proximity. You could smell the sweat on his skin mixing with his cologne, feel the heat radiating from his body, and see the way his eyes seemed to devour you, and the way his wet hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. You knew you had to get him alone, and fast.

“How long do you have?” You asked, your words came out heavy, thick with desire.

Austin's eyes narrowed, his pupils dilating with interest. “40 minutes ish, why?”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear. “I need you,” you whispered, the words sending a thrill through your entire body.

Austin's eyes flashed with desire, and he pulled back, his face set in a determined expression. “Let's find a quiet spot,” he growled, taking your hand, leading you to his trailer, the door closing behind you with a soft click. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on his knees, his fingers deftly undoing your pants and pulling them down. His mouth closed over your pussy with a hungry growl.

"I've missed you," he said, his voice low and husky. You felt your body respond to his words, your nipples hardening beneath your shirt. His fingers dug into your skin as he pulled your core even closer to his lips.

You moaned as his hot breath washed over your skin, his tongue darting out to taste you. Your hands buried themselves in his hair, the soft strands tangling around your fingers as you pulled him closer.

“Fuck, Austin,” you breathed, your body trembling with pleasure. “You're so good at this.”

He chuckled against your flesh, “I know.”

He groaned, allowing you to feel the vibrations of his vocal cords, his mouth working magic on your clit. He slid his middle finger inside of you, curling upwards as his tongue lapped over your most sensitive spot. You gasped, your body tightening around his finger as he pumped it in and out of you. Your legs began to shake. You felt yourself building towards orgasm, your hands tightening in his hair as you tugged and pulled.

“Yes, baby, like that,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin.

Austin loved when you pulled at his hair, and he responded by increasing the pressure, his tongue lashing against you with reckless abandon. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter.

You were so close, your body trembling with anticipation. The pleasure was getting too much, you pulled his head back by his hair, when you finally let out a loud cry and came all over his face. Austin groaned, his eyes closed in ecstasy, as you pulsed against his mouth.

He gently pressed his tongue on your clit, allowing you to milk yourself of your orgasm using his face until you were empty.

For a moment, you just sat there, panting and trembling, as Austin slowly got to his feet, his face smeared with your juices. He smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, and pulled you into a deep, wet kiss, his saliva and yours mixing with your slick.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice husky.

“I love you too,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face too. Austin's gaze never left yours as he reached for a towel that was draped over the back of a nearby chair. He gently wiped the remnants of your orgasm from his chin. Then, with a gentle touch, he brought the towel between your legs, softly wiping away your fluid. The intimate gesture sent a flutter through your chest, and you felt your heart swell with affection for this man.

As he helped you to your feet, Austin's hands lingered on your waist, his fingers brushing against the skin beneath your shirt. He zipped up the fly of your jeans, then fastened the button with a gentle tug. The simple act felt like a declaration of ownership, a reminder that you belonged to him, and he to you.

“Come on, let’s get food,” Austin said, his voice still thick, as he held your hand, leading you back to the catering area. He handed you a plate and took one for himself, both of you eyeing all the delicious looking food that was provided. Just then, the ten-minute call rang out across the room, a reminder that your break was drawing to a close. Austin's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, his voice low and teasing.

“You’re terrible,” he kissed your temple, pulling your head to his chest, “making me miss out on half my lunch break like that.”

You laughed as you leaned into him, “I’ll return the favour tonight.”

His stomach flipped at your words, he shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Hush,” he teased, shoving a strawberry in your mouth. You bit down innocently, humming with delight at the sweetness.

a/n I know for a fact no one eats pussy like Austin Butler does end of conversation

[savannahsdeath]

heyyy could u write something where like reader is about to shower but starts to get really insecure and kinda has a breakdown, BUT ellie reassures her. (pls also give reader stretch marks bc i've been so insecure abt mine lately and i have them literally everywhere. thighs, hips, even on my boobs lol) <3

ELLIE WILLIAMS X INSECURE!READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! but tbh its minors safe this time i think ??

writers note: just a reminder youre all beautiful no matter what!! beauty standards or wtv was it called are something we shouldnt base our life on but we sadly do. self love is the key to happiness and dont let other people ruin it!!🩷🩷and to our lovely anon, you dont need to worry about stretch marks. trust me, most of people dont even pay attention to them! its nothing 'special in a bad way'. i lately got some too, right before my holidays and theyre sooo visible through my summer clothes but its something you can get used to be comfortable with. please, anon, dont think less of yourself because of them nor any other insecurities. and this comes to everyone!!💞

it was already late so you were getting ready to take a shower to not waste any more time. you put your clothes on a nearby shelf. you stood in front of the mirror in your underwear only, looking for anything that could be possibly pointed out, like you didn't have enough insecurities already. feeling rather self-conscious, you were examining your reflection for any flaws or imperfections. every detail of your body was being inspected up-close, from the lines on your stomach, to the size of your thighs, to the shape of your shoulders and face. your eyes were scanning every inch of you, seeking any signs of something you could hate, even if others wouldn't notice them. you couldn't help but wonder if the things you were stressing over were even worth worrying about, or if you were just creating problems where they didn't exist.

either way, you couldn't help but hate them. and since you mostly focused on bad things and you didn't see your advantages - you hated yourself. in your eyes your whole body could change. or even should change.

the more you stared at yourself in the mirror, picking apart every little thing, the more you hated what you saw. it felt like nothing was good enough, like every little imperfection needed to be changed or worked on. you felt like you could never measure up to this impossible standard, like your entire body was inadequate. the insecurities were eating away at you, gnawing away until any confidence or self-love you might've had was gone.

that was the moment your eyes beginned to get glossy. you didn't cry though, oh, no. you hated the way you look when you cry, just like everything else, so you tried your best to hold back tears. the floodgates were beginning to open, but you held them back with everything you had. you despised the way you looked when you cried: the tears down your cheeks, your puffy eyes, all those disgusting, revolting imperfections. as much as you hated your flaws, you despised your crying face even more. you would never let anyone see you like that, never.

suddenly, your girlfriend and roommate in one, knocked on the door. "everything okay in there?"

she must notice you're taking your time instead of simply taking a shower already.

you stayed silent, knowing if you try to open your mouth you couldn't control what comes from them. you'd probably break down and the thick door won't be enough to mute your pathetic sobs.

you didn't want to answer, but then again, you knew if you stayed quiet, your girlfriend would eventually come in and check on you. you had to keep yourself together. you couldn't fall apart right in front of her like that.

you let out a shaky breath and replied, "yeah, everything's fine." you could feel your voice cracking with each word, but you were determined not to let her see you in such a sorry state.

what if she sees me the way i see myself?

your girlfriend wasn't fooled by your shaky reply. even if you denied it, she knew something was wrong. she heard the emotion in your voice and could sense the struggle to keep yourself together. without another word, she opened the door and walked in.

"what's wrong, pretty girl?" she asked when she didn't saw your glossy eyes yet.

you, on the other hand, couldn't control yourself anymore. the nickname 'pretty girl' hit you instantly, thinking you're anything but pretty.

pretty.

girl.

those two words hit you harder than a punch to the gut, evoking a strong reaction that you tried to mask. you took a deep breath to steady your voice so that you didn't break, but it was impossible to sound completely calm when you felt so much pain just from those two words.

"nothing." you muttered quietly, but your voice sounded more like a choke than a word.

she hugged you from behind, looking in the same, unlucky mirror. her hands softly touched the scretch marks on your hips as she hold onto them, gently rocking you back and forth.

you wanted nothing more than to reject this hug and flee from your own reflection in the mirror, but you were too weak to pull away.

"nothing?" she asked gently, planting little kisses from your neck to shoulders.

you felt a wave of shame and embarrassment wash over you as your girlfriend's touch revealed the marks on your hips. she immediately spotted them and caressed them with her soft hands.

it all felt too much. you were fighting so hard to hold yourself together, but when she touched you, it all came crashing down. the tears finally escaped and you began to sob, clinging onto her tightly as you broke down. "no... not nothing..."

she held you close, feeling your warmth as her arms wrapped around you and her hands comforted your pain. she rubbed your back and kissed your neck as she tried to soothe you. "shh, come here, it's okay..." she whispered gently.

she led you over to the bed and laid you down. she carefully took off her shirt, leaving on only her bra and boxers, then laid down with you, hugging you tightly. she kissed your neck, your face, brushed your hair back, caressed your body, your stretch marks, your insecurities (at least the ones she knew about), anything to try and comfort you. she whispered words of reassurance and love as she tried to fill you with the affection you felt you lacked. "i love you, my pretty girl... i love you." she repeated those words again and again, hoping you'd believe that someone could love you, and that someone was her.

ellie continued to hold you tightly as you cried into her. your tears soaked into her bra, but she didn't mind; you'd done that many times before. she rubbed your back in soothing circles as she let you let it all out, and she made small shushing noises in your ear. your sobs turned into whimpers and then into a soft murmur, and as your emotions died down, she gently wiped away the tears, replacing them with kisses.

as she noticed you calmed down she slightly pulled away to get a better look at you. "can you tell me what's wrong now?"

"i... it's just..." you started, and your voice broke as you tried to find the words. your girlfriend gave you her undivided attention, focusing on you and only you. "i- i don't feel pretty... i don't feel good enough... i don't feel... enough."

with her eyes looking deep into yours, you couldn't help but be vulnerable as you opened up to her. your insecurities and flaws, the things you tried so hard to hide, were all laid bare in front of her now.

a pang of guilt hit you in that moment.

what am i doing?

ellie was so sweet and loving, and you felt like you were just taking advantage of her kindness. like you're just an attention seeker.

but before you could say anything, she pressed a finger to your lips.

"no. shut your mouth." she said sternly, and you couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "that's not true. i don't wanna hear it, not another word." she leaned in and pressed her soft lips to yours.

you found yourself sitting on her lap, as she stroked your hair, whispering something or kissing you from time to time. you told her all about it, about what and how you feel. and she listened.

you were so lost in your emotional story you didn't even notice the way she slowly took off her rings - one by one, and placed them on a bedside shelf.

[nonstoplover]

flashes of silver ~ lewis hamilton (lh44)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: with the annual fia gala coming up, lewis decides to do something as a kind of thank you to his hard-working team, and invites one of the girls working for mercedes as his plus one.

words: 3.4K

warnings: cheesy fluffy stuff; a possible age gap if you squint your eyes but nothing actually mentioned; probably not accurately written shop scene (if you can't tell, i've never been in any fancy shop lol)

a/n: i had a dream. one simple dream that pulled me out of the past few months' writer's block. it was a bit of a struggle though to kinda get back into writing rhythm but whatever. i needed to get this out of my system before i go mad. first lh44 fic also!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

"I don't have any dress that's good enough for a gala," she shakes her head ferociously, her eyes not leaving the man standing before her. She still can't fight the small voice in her head telling her that it's just a joke. A prank, probably for the team's social media pages. Why else would he approach her with something so ridiculous?

Under her curious, cautious gaze, Lewis just reaches into his pocket, and without breaking eye contact for a single second, pulls his card out and places it on the desk in front of her. "Go buy yourself something then. You deserve it anyway."

All words leave her mind, it's like her vocabulary has been completely erased. The only thing she can do is allow her eyes to widen in sync with her lips, as she tries to comprehend what she's just heard.

"Come on, take it," he encourages with a small smile.

When she still doesn't move an inch, the man playfully sighs, extending his arm to grab the card once more. With his other hand, he reaches even further, under the desktop to take hold of her hand resting on her lap. A gentle but still dynamic movement later he's pried her fingers open and placed the card in her palm. His own fingers stay there, flesh to flesh, for a second longer, before closing her fist around the plastic and retreating his touch.

As the air-conditioned, cool air hits the back of her hand again, (y/n) wakes from her trance. Her eyes flash up and down a couple times, from the driver to the card and back again. "I can't spend your money. I won't spend your money."

"I have more than enough, it's okay."

"That doesn't change what I said."

"(y/n), please. I already told the entire media team that I'm taking you. I told even Toto." Lewis presses his hands against the wooden surface and leans against it for support as he continues to stand at her desk.

The way he keeps on insisting this for the past five minutes makes her start to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he actually means it, and this is not a joke.

 "Why?"

He can still hear the disbelief in her voice, and has to control himself not to roll his eyes as he giggles. "I already told you like twice since I came here."

"But it doesn't make sense. I mean, I get it, you wanna give something back to the team for their hard work or whatever, but why don't you take literally anyone else than me?"

"You're next in line," he shrugs.

Why do his eyes always have to be so kind and so lovely and so heartwarming and so–, she stops herself before she spirals down that rabbit hole again.

"You've been working here for years, having my back all the time, and so I figured it would be a nice thank you, from me to you."

"You know, an actual thank you would be sufficient," she smiles lightly up at him after a second of silent ponder – the first crack in her indevout façade, and the first tiny wave of relief in his body.

"Okay, you know what?" Lewis pauses, waiting until her eyes flash with pure curiosity, all caution forgotten. "We're going dress shopping together. Right now."

(y/n) lets out a chuckle that comes to an abrupt stop when she sees him hold his hand out, palm up and open, obviously waiting. For her. He means it.

"I'm working," her mind says the first response it can come up with – earning an imaginary slap when she actually realises what she's just said.

(y/f/n) would kill me if she heard this, she thinks with certain memories of her avid LH44 fan best friend appearing in her mind. Who in her right mind would find an excuse to say no to an offer like this from Lewis Hamilton himself?

"I'm sure your boss will understand if you tell him who you were with and why," he chuckles, the sound making the tips of her fingers tingle and her heart flutter.

"Oh, right," (y/n) lets out a laugh, cheeks turning red in slight embarrassment as her eyes flicker down to the keyboard sitting in front of her. Her boss, Toto Wolff definitely wouldn't mind if he already agreed to this crazy plan previously.

"So, you coming?" Lewis wiggles his fingers, gathering the girl's attention. She slowly raises her head, mentally preparing herself for what she's about to do, then as if the world has abruptly changed to slow motion, (y/n) watches her free hand move up and a long second later arrive into his still waiting palm.

Just in time with his fingers tightening momentarily around hers, she can hear her own laughter jingle loud. Is this a dream?

"You're beautiful," Lewis greets her as the chauffeur closes the car door behind her, his smile creating wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – something she's always found absolutely adorable.

"Thanks," she mumbles in response, struggling to keep eye contact when she notices the intense look in his gaze.

"Maybe you could give me your stylist's number."

Upon hearing this, (y/n) can't help but glance at the driver sitting next to her, lips curling into a wide grin, exactly how he wanted. "I don't know, I'd have to ask him first to see if he agreed," she answers and they let out a giggle at the same time, both of them remembering that one afternoon a few days back.

"We really shouldn't go in here," (y/n) stops short on the pavement, her heels pressing down on the asphalt.

"We really should, though," Lewis grabs her hand without even glancing her way, pulling the girl behind him right into the shop.

"Lewis!" she hisses, stumbling in her steps as she rushes to keep up with his relentless pace. "One dress here costs more money than all I've ever earned."

"Then it's good that I already told you I'm paying," comes his immediate, somewhat deadpan reply.

He doesn't stop and doesn't let go of her hand, not until she's in the spacious changing room in the back of the extremely fancy dress shop, along with a mountain of colourful, unambiguously expensive materials. "I'll be out here waiting," he announces, then leaves her with the shop assistant, drawing the heavy, thick curtain closed behind him.

What feels like a million dresses later, the young woman helping her dress lets out an approving gasp, loud enough that even Lewis can hear it from the other side, as he's scrolling on social media sitting in the almost overly comfortable armchair, the sound piquing his interest. With one firm push to her shoulder, the woman twirls (y/n) around until she comes face to face with the huge mirror.

The silver silk is still rippling around her legs from the sudden movement, reflecting the light and thereby making her practically shine. It's modest, with thin straps on her shoulders and the neckline not too revealing, a monochrome, bright silver dress  – and (y/n) has to admit to herself that the material tightly hugging her torso is the most magical thing her skin has ever touched. She feels almost royal in it.

For the first time since they've arrived in the shop, she doesn't feel like a clown and all ridiculous when the curtain gets pulled back and Lewis raises his head to catch a glance at her. Her skin tingles and heart flutters as his eyes move down and then up again on her body just like they did several times in the past hour or so – but the nervous feeling finally gets replaced with something new, something exciting.

One simple, consenting inclination of the man's head in an upright motion, and time speeds up. The next couple minutes go by in a blur, and by the time she at last emerges from the changing room for the final time, now in her original clothes – that feel almost painfully too ordinary after the magnificent dress – Lewis has already arranged everything, and is simply waiting for her at the counter.

(y/n) thinks about the excitement she felt when she woke up in the morning, knowing that in a few hours, her dress will be delivered and she can feel the smooth, cool silk wrap around her body once more.

Now she allows her eyes to truly take in the man next to her, curiosity getting the best of her as she shamelessly checks him out. He refused to let her know what he's going to wear, only making her a promise that they're going to match. Now his body is wrapped in a suit, one that's seemingly made from the same silver silk that she has on, with something white peaking out from under it – but (y/n)'s just unable to look away from the suit itself, not even for a second. She can't help but think about how regal he looks, how he's so easily going to outshine anyone in the room. How the two of them are going to shine together. Silver, like the team they both work for. Like the Silver Arrows.

"Like it?" His voice breaks her out of her trance, and she blinks the thoughts away, hoping the makeup the girl Lewis was kind enough to arrange for her applied some time earlier effectively hides the flushed colour of her cheeks.

She nods. "You look amazing. As always," she adds, almost as an afterthought, eliciting the famous giggle from his lips, and thereby sending the flutters in her whole body into overdrive.

"We look amazing, love," he smiles, momentarily reaching over to squeeze her hand that's laying on top of her thigh, and she has to focus with all she has not to reveal in any way the effect him calling her that has had on her.

How on Earth did I get into this situation?, she wonders, eyes frantically searching for the familiar sight of Lewis in the crowd of people.

As soon as he's left her side, people flocked her like predacious birds. Not just some people, no. People who've been waiting to catch her alone ever since they arrived. People whose work includes creating drama with made up stories and rumours all too often. Journalists.

(y/n) sees no way out as they keep trying to make conversation with her, their questions whizzingly filling her ears and mind.

"Are you his girlfriend?"

"How long have you been dating?"

"It must be serious if he took you to a gala like this, is it?"

"How can someone like Sir Lewis Hamilton, dream of millions of women, who could have anyone he wanted, choose someone like you, plain, and really, a nobody?"

This is the question the driver hearswhen he gets back from the counter offering drinks, a glass each in his hands. His eyes widen, realising his mistake of leaving her alone even for only such a short time. He should've known better. He should've expected journalists here, who would come up with their theories, just because his plus one to this event is a woman they've never seen, at least definitely not with him before. He just assumed – mistakenly, as he can now see – that to a high prestige event like this, such vultures won't get invited.

This is the question that makes his mind cloud with anger. How could any person in their right mind say this to someone, anyone, but especially to such a gorgeous young woman that she is. Without a second thought, he pushes care out the window and behaves on instinct. With a softly spoken pardon, he pushes his way through the group of journalists, stepping up to her side. Even in his slightly foggy state of mind he can see – or more likely feel –the way her shoulder drop a little, relief obviously coursing through her veins finally as she moves just an inch closer to his body. Seeking for protection.

His arm moves next, on its own accord really, as he hands her one of the drinks he's brought, then using his now free hand to snake it around her waist, pulling her tight into his side. All this happens in one short second, and in the next one, he's turning his head to press a soft but lingering kiss on her temple.

Then, as if he's just remembered the gathering of people around them, looks away from her once more, searching non-stop with his eyes until he finds that one journalist who said the final question before his arrival, his stare turning cold and almost deadly. He can faintly hear the girl next to him stutter to get an answer out, but precede her with one simple sentence aimed mainly at that person his eyes are still trained on.

"You mean, how could someone like me get a woman so breathtaking as her, right?"

A beat passes when no one speaks, when no one seems to dare even to breathe, then he continues, his stare finally moving back to (y/n), gaze softening. "Because to be honest even I don't know, still looking for an answer."

Lewis smiles, sweet as ever, as if nothing like that death stare has just happened, before lifting the glass in his hand to take a sip. As the alcohol swirls around his tongue, a sudden thought pops in his mind, and within a second, he's reaching out, and with the backs of his fingers he touches her jaw, to make her turn her head towards him gently. Then, like nothing is more natural than this, he leans in and presses a kiss on her lips. To try and make what he's said even more believable.

The prior couple seconds have already left (y/n) completely bemused and speechless, but this one action of his tops them all. Her heart nearly jumps out of her chest, and she can feel her eyes being extremely wide from the surprise she's feeling, his words being on constant replay in her ears. As her mind slowly catches up to her and realises what he's most probably playing at, she pulls herself together to play her part, not wanting to ruin the act and thereby making a fool out of him – meaning simply melting into his kiss, which is really not that hard, to be frank.

As he pulls away, Lewis gazes at her a little longer than he was necessarily supposed to, then with a simple, murmured excuse us to the journalists and with his hand leaving her waist only to intertwine their fingers, he pulls her away from the spot. He keeps on moving until he's pulled her into an empty corridor, not stopping until he makes sure they are fully alone – leaving that one journalist to stand in shame, while the others can't help but think slyly about what the reason behind his hurried exit with his girlfriend could be.

In line with his abrupt stop, he drops her hand immediately, turning towards her in one swift motion with an unexpected shy, apologising look in his eyes. Before she can gather her thoughts and say anything, his voice already rings out in-between the walls of the corridor. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable – and I truly hope I didn't – and I definitely did not just use this situation for my own gains, to get some juicy stories of me in the papers or whatever, and I will never step over these boundaries again, I just wanted to stop that bullshit that journalist has started."

Thoughts finally start to make sense in her head again, but before she can get a word out, he rambles on. "And I want you to know that what they told was completely wrong. I meant it, what I said back there, word for word. Well, except the part about me getting you since obviously we're nothing like that, but I just wanted you to know that it's the truth."

He would probably keep on talking if it wasn't for her hand gently being placed on his forearm. (y/n) smiles up at him as echos of his last, firmly stated sentence still faintly ring out. "Lewis, it's okay." The driver stops and takes a breath. "You didn't have to do it though, it's not your job to... protect me from anything, especially not from what random people say."

"I know, but I wanted to. Couldn't bear it if I knew you lived on with these words in your head about yourself," Lewis replies with a small smile finally once more gracing his face.

Her eyes break the eye contact as they move down to inspect her shoes, her cheeks suddenly feeling quite hot. "Thank you. It was very lovely of you."

When he doesn't say anything, she takes a deep breath, and with that, looks back up again only to find him wordlessly watching her. Her glance flickers to his lips, noticing some residue of her lipstick smeared around his skin there. With eyes widening, she's fast to reach up and wipe it off, mumbling under her breath something about the deep red colour.

Those heavy brown eyes of his don't leave her face, following her every movement, and the same thoughts come back to his mind that he was thinking right after that very kiss. As if she could read his mind, she continues speaking, now a little louder, braver. "Especially the kiss," she says, though with an even darker red shade colouring her cheeks. "You definitely didn't have to do that, it was believable enough without it."

Lewis thinks for a second, eyes focused on her lips for a moment longer – something that she just catches when she finishes wiping the residue off –, then his glance moves further up her face to stare into her eyes, with an abrupt seriousness and determination gleaming on his face.

"And what if I say that it wasn't a part of that whole play pretend? Not really."

Her breath catches in her throat as her mind scrambles to comprehend his words and what he could possibly imply with them. "What do you mean?" she mumbles in the end, the tips of her fingers starting to itch in their sudden shaky state.

"What if I say I wanted to kiss you in that moment?"

Lewis takes a long second to pause, in which he examines her reaction carefully to know if he should continue or not. He looks all around her face, searching for clues – and easily finding them. In how her eyes sparkle in a way he's never seen them shine before, how her cheeks are flushed bright pink, how her lips slightly open in shock but their corners are curling up into the beginnings of a smile.

He decides he can safely continue.

"What if I say I want to kiss you in this moment?"

Her fingers twitch, her heart skips a beat. In that same second, his fingers reach out to grab hers, pulling them to his chest, only to press them down right there immediately. Through the cold to the touch silk, she can clearly feel his heart beating in a rapid rhythm, almost equalling hers.

(y/n) lets her eyes follow their hands, momentarily mesmerised by how beautifully their skins blend into the other, through the cracks in-between his fingers that are nearly covering all of hers. Then her glance moves higher, right to his lips, before slowly, eventually arriving to his eyes. She doesn't find it in herself to speak, doesn't trust her lips and her voice to be able to say what she truly feels and means, and so only moves her head in the tiniest of nods, careful not to break eye contact.

Lewis has been attentively waiting for her response for several long seconds now, being ready for whatever it might be. When it comes, he jumps on the opportunity like there's no tomorrow, like he's scared she might change her mind if he waits a second longer, and catches her lips with his own in a single movement, once more in the past five minutes, but this time with much more meaning to it.

notes: oh god the way i pictured this so vividly in my head following nothing but a freaking dream my mind came up with... ever since then i couldn't get it out of my head. i know i didn't do it justice with how i've written it, but honestly? i just needed to write it down before i go crazy. (and to think that i'm not even that crazy of a lewis fan... what this could've been if i was?!)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

taglist: formulapierre

if anyone wanted an idea about the dress i had in mind while writing:

[son1c]

On the topic of chimera Sonic, Tails must be going THRU it

First a dragon like creature kidnaps his brother

then he has to venture into the dungeon to save him

then when he finds his older brother he’s not acting like himself and has feathers, wings and has the body of a freaking LION from the waist down

Then he has to presumably watch him kill people

And then after all that Tails finds out that Sonic died

That poor boy 😔 (im living for the angst)

And speaking of when Tails encounters Sonic again, does he find him already transformed or does he find him before in that trance-like state Falin was in when she snuck out the window in the middle of the night after she was resurrected? Or is it something different entirely?

Chimera Sonic is legitimately rotting my brain /pos

OKAY SO... i've been doing some thinking about this crossover... and i've decided that sonic got kidnapped specifically because of his gauntlet. which ofc he's wearing again now that he's back in the satbk world.

but why did falin want his gauntlet? well... it's not that SHE wanted it, but she was told to get it. and sonic, the stubborn bastard, refused to give it up, so she ended up just taking him with it.

what's so special about the gauntlet? well, after sonic left camelot at the end of satbk, merlina gave up her goal of creating an undying world. but... wizards are peculiar things, aren't they? she spent all that time studying necromancy. all those hours laboring over ancient texts. even if she's not going to go through with her plan anymore, she still has the ego to preserve her hard work.

so, she split up her research. the spells she crafted are broken up like puzzle pieces and scattered throughout the satbk world... and one line of it, she had engraved on the inside of sonic's gauntlet. (for nostalgia? maybe. but she also knew the gauntlet would be protected within the walls of the castle.)

but yeah. falin was ordered to retrieve the gauntlet. so that's precisely what she did. as for why thistle wants it... well, he wants to reconstruct the spell of eternal life that merlina created because he believes it will bring back delgal. so he's on a mission to gather all the artifacts with her spell.

right. so, sonic and tails. sonic was summoned to the satbk world via magic portal (exactly like the last time he went there). tails got dragged along because they were standing literally right next to each other and of course tails is gonna follow him through the weird sketchy portal! they don't call him sonic's best bud for nothing, you know!

but who opened the magic portal??? well, it was merlina. sorry for the spoilers. she's currently "missing" in the land of camelot, and she doesn't greet sonic or tails when they fall through her portal. like i said in a previous post, there's about a day that goes by where everything is... normal... and sonic and tails get to explore the castle and converse with the knights and catch up on the goings-on of the world and stuff.

merlina's deal here is that she's working with thistle. in the first game, merlina appeared to be a good guy until it was revealed she was the twist villain. this time, she seems like the bad guy... until it's revealed she's actually trying to stop thistle. see, she knows power when she sees it. and thistle is a huge threat. so, she's working "with" him in order to find a weakness and stop him. that's also why she called sonic back to this world... because she knew she was going to need his help.

unfortunately, things didn't go as she'd planned. falin delivering sonic's gauntlet along with his DEAD BODY to thistle shocks her. but it's fine. she can work with this--she hopes. things get a little tricky when thistle wants to dispose of sonic though, and merlina has to come up with an excuse for him NOT to do that.

cuz she can't let thistle know that she knows sonic. that would make her look suspicious. after all, she summoned him to camelot IN SECRET to help her TAKE DOWN thistle. so, she claims that she can sense an immense power within sonic and that he might be "useful" to them... so they shouldn't let him go to waste. thankfully, this works. and thistle is like "ok slay" (not his exact words).

merlina revives sonic with the magic she's learned from thistle. sonic then has about 5 seconds to process coming back to life, seeing merlina, and also some other weird elf guy before said elf guy steps in and turns him into a chimera using a bottled monster soul.

merlina also wasn't expecting this, by the way. but she's a very "ends justify the means" type of person and that hasn't changed. so, she promises to succeed in stopping thistle as she watches him turn her friend into a monster before her eyes.

[eve-pie]

More of my Cuphead au!!

I had a think think Brain blast moment and decided that I needed to think of designs for the cuphead bosses

But couldn't cause theirs nine neighbors and I'm not skilled enough to make home a boss let alone a villain because he's a silly little house

I already made a few neighbors a boss

Sally starlet as Sally stageplay (referred to as Sally starplay in this au)

Eddie dear as the devil (referred to as Eddie devil dear in this au)

And Frank as king Dice (referred to as Frank Dicey in this au)

However anyone outside of that are heros or just normal people

Julie joyful as Miss Chalice (Refered to as Miss joyful in this au)

Wally darling as Cuphead (Referred to as Wally Cupling in this au)

Barnaby b Beagle as Mugman (Referred to as Barnaby b mug in this au)

Poppy partridge as elder kettle (Referred to as elder partridge in this au)

Ms beagle is also in this au as a caretaker for barnaby she's married to poppy

Howdy pillar as porkrind haven't figured out a name or design for him yet currently under construction

(Barnaby and Wally are step siblings in this au however barnaby knows they aren't related while Wally fully believes they are brothers)

Anyways So I was left stumped for a while however I decided like any normal person would do I took some welcome home OCs and made them bosses I tried to make them still look like themselves but mixed in with a random cuphead boss

Dandy.... As Dandy carnation (btw Dandy's power's are flower related because of course)

Note: (Dandy's personality is mixed in with the boss so if I did anything wrong or misinterpreted him entirely I will happily fix it please let me know this is the first time I've ever did something like this)

Phase 1

Dandy is taking the place of cangey carnation however unlike the normally evil flower dandy is an absolute sweetheart at first! they work as a gardener and occasionally sells a few flowers but when hearing that Wally (Cuphead) and barnaby (mugman) was out to get his soul then he became defensive Dandy is the first boss you face

Phase 2

Dandy starts to become more serious and determined they don't necessarily wanna hurt Wally and Barnaby however they are after his soul its either him or them becoming a tad more aggressive and angry showing that he can be as much of a threat as them

Phase 3 final form

In this form Dandy is very aggressive and capable of using fire! Everywhere on them is thorny and spikey they refuse to lose to Wally and Barnaby especially if his soul is on the line

I kinda based this boss of the snapdragon and chomper from plants vs zombies and of course the piranha plant from Mario

Dandy is capable of

Fire breathing only in final form

In all forms Dandy can use vines to attack along with other flowers

Growing varies plants such as trees etc

Growing thorns anywhere on his body and around him however there's a limit to how far the thorns can go at least 20 feet in front of him

And dandy has any ability that the actual cangey carnation has

Dandy can also grow and shrink his size final form is at least 10ft

Next up is Millie Valentine as Baroness Von bon bon who shall be now known as Baroness Millie Val bon bon (or baroness millie for short)

Millie with a popmodour canon!?!

Phase 1

I uh kinda struggled with Millie I may make a few changes to her

Anyways the baroness may appear as a sweetheart who will share sweets with you however she's uh a little crazy to say the least due to an old curse keeping her inside of candy land she hasn't had normal human contact in years outside of her little candy people

Whenever she meets a normal person much like the baroness inside the show (cause in the game she's immediately aggressively) she will put up a mask and act sweet until you break a rule when meeting Wally and barnaby she did just that however the moment millie found out they were there for her soul that facade immediately faded and she became aggressive

Since Millie is still a work in progress I won't show her other phases

Dandy belongs to @sketchy-tour

Millie belongs to @artsybug0

[1d1195]

Traditional XI

You can read the rest of Traditional here.

Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. She and Harry have definitely turned into one of my favorite couples I've had the pleasure of writing about. As an aside, I will be posting a long overdue "how my taglist works" (because I a tumblr-elder and don't know what I'm doing anymore). But for those of you that have been tagged throughout the series, please check out the message at the bottom.

This is the final part (not including the extras I have lined up.) There's a bit of angst and a good bit of fluff. It follows part ten immediately and I also continued with marking the days/time because I think it made it a bit easier to follow.

Truly, really, thank you so much. Part 1-11 is 67k words and I’ve enjoyed typing each one. I hope you continue to enjoy reading. Without further ado:

--

“She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.

“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”

Harry felt his entire body freeze over with a new fear that Niall mistakenly unlocked. It truly felt like his body was made of ice. He grabbed at his phone anxiously calling the apartment complex’s main line. He had to suffer through prompts before he could finally talk to a person. He asked if it looked as if anyone was moving stuff from his apartment (although he would have given it to her at this point).

Monday

“I’ll kill him,” Louis shouted, almost proudly as he entered the apartment. She shook her head and just burst into tears as she told him about all the things Harry did. While he was prepared to murder him, Louis’ heart softened with each task Harry completed to make sure his best friend was cared for. It was everything he ever hoped for the girl he thought of as one of his own sisters. He wouldn’t kill Harry. He couldn’t...not if he did all that for her.

Eleanor combed her fingers through her hair while the poor girl cried in her lap. Louis was frowning, glancing at Eleanor every so often as she spoke. “Babe,” Louis whispered when she finished her story.

She sniffled. “I don’t know why I did that,” she croaked. “That was so stupid, who does that? You should have seen the look on his face. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Of course, he will,” Eleanor said easily shaking her head. Her voice was so solid, like she had already talked to Harry about it and knew with every fiber of her being. Louis crouched beside her wiping the tears out of her eyes as comfortingly as he could. “Harry loves you, darling,” Eleanor reminded her.

“Why was I so mean?” She choked on another sob. “I’d hate me. I was so heartless.”

“You were overwhelmed, love,” Eleanor promised. “That was a lot to take in, all in one day. But he meant the best and brightest for you. You have to believe that. Harry has never done anything but try to make sure you’re taken care of.”

She took in a shaking breath as more tears poured out of her; she was so unhappy with how she handled the whole day. Maybe she was overwhelmed. That would at least have made some sense. There was so much to be overwhelmed about. Everything she had been bottling up. All of which was threatening to burst because it just had to be one of those weeks where it all just piled and piled until it all crumbled down.

“Babe,” Louis whispered trying to stop the tears from falling but failing because they kept coming faster than he could swipe her cheeks. “C’mon.”

“I know you all went to the funeral for my dad,” she sniffled. She may as well have wallowed in the hurt a bit more. They needed to know she knew. “I know they had one...I saw it in the online obituary.”

They were silent for a minute. Louis didn’t move his eyes from hers for a moment. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. So of course, she knew she was right. They did hide it from her.

However, Louis wasn’t going to forget that she let them hide it. He stared at Eleanor for a moment; having some silent conversation that only the two of them could have. The entire time she continued crying. Eleanor gave her a comforting squeeze as best she could with her sprawled across her lap.

“I think you’re scared,” Eleanor whispered without addressing her comment about the services.

“El,” Louis’ voice wasn’t a whisper like it had been directed at the sobbing girl. His tone wasn’t gentle. It was like he was warning her not to continue.

“Scared of what?” She sniffed because she may have heard the warning in Louis’ voice, but she was already miserable. It couldn’t be worse than what she felt.

“Tell her, Louis. Tell her,” Eleanor begged. She turned her attention back to her best friend.

Louis reminded her so much of her brother, she wondered if he would have been as wise as Louis was if he were still around. Even for the goofball he made himself out to be, Louis was nearly sagely at his age. He was the one she went to for advice. The one she asked for help when she needed to get Harry a birthday gift. If she was stuck in the middle of nowhere, she was pretty sure she would still call Louis first. He was her best friend because he always knew what to say to her and even if it was hard to hear he always told her the hard truths.

She could see on his face that it was going to hurt to lay whatever he was about to say in front of her if only because she was already so heartbroken. “Being cared for,” he bit the inside of his lip, but he didn’t break his gaze with her. “You think it’s a death sentence,” he told her. His tone was soothing, even though the words were not. “Because when your brother came to get you, he tragically died. Don’t think I’m forgetting that. But then, your parents stopped caring for you...so it was like...you associated the two,” he explained. “And then, you didn’t tell me. So, in your mind, caring for you is a death sentence for those that love you.”

She was speechless. Her sniffles slowed, which allowed her to sit in the upright position, but Eleanor still had her arm wrapped around her shoulders. She swallowed as she listened to him speak without hiccupping on her breath. “Do you really think we wouldn’t have let you live with us?” Eleanor asked softly from beside her. “The only one that thought you needed to get your own space was you...and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you got Harry out of the deal, but you could have lived with us for forever,” she smiled gently at her.

She stared at the two of them and Louis looked at her tear-stained face with a frown. “Love,” he said so gently. “You have spent so long building up walls making sure you take care of everyone in your life because the last time you stopped taking care of someone else and had fun of your own, something horrible and tragic happened,” She looked away from him, sniffling uncontrollably. “But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t. No matter how many times your mum says it was...no matter how many times you sit next to his gravestone and feel guilty for it. He would have gone and got you and he would have turned that steering wheel to protect you over, and over, and over again,” she couldn’t look at Louis when he talked about it. It was his best friend, and she just took him away forever...all for a party. “I would have done it for you, babe,” he promised. She hated the idea of that too so much that she let out another whimpering sob. “Now, so would Harry,” he told her, and the pang of anxiety at the mere idea Harry would fatally hurt for her rippled all through her body she felt sick at the idea...it hurt all the way to her toes and made her fingertips feel numb.

But Louis pressed on making it hurt even more but with every intention of making it better. “You can’t keep your guard up forever. You can’t stop people from taking care of you because you miss him and worry about the consequences of them taking care of you,” he said. “We all take that risk for someone we love,” he brushed the tears off her cheeks once more as they were finally slowing to a pace he could keep up with. She refused to look at him. But Louis wouldn’t accept that. “Babe,” he said turning her chin back to him. “Let someone else take care of you. Let Harry do it. You’ve done it for long enough.”

*

Tuesday

Niall found Harry throwing the lamp on his desk against the wall of his office so hard he was surprised the wall didn’t shatter. But the lamp certainly did. Nearly splintered into a hundred pieces. He flopped into his desk chair and hung his head practically between his knees.

“Christ, the two of you today,” he grumbled hoping to find Harry in better shape than his typically better mood intern. Obviously, that would not be the case. “What’s wrong?” He asked, closing the door.

Harry ran a hand over his face. He wanted to cry but he was at work, and he shouldn’t have. “She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.

“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”

His gaze snapped up to Niall and he mouthed the word whoa. If Niall said it out loud, he didn’t hear it. He was shocked by the redness of Harry’s eyes, the withdrawn look. He knew it was bad when she could hardly keep track of what she was doing this morning. It was worse than when her coffee spilled all over her things a few months ago.

But seeing his best friend so distressed…

Harry felt his entire body freeze over with a new fear that Niall mistakenly unlocked. It truly felt like his body was made of ice. He grabbed at his phone anxiously calling the apartment complex’s main line. He had to suffer through prompts before he could finally talk to a person. He asked if it looked as if anyone was moving stuff from his apartment (although he would have given it to her at this point).

He was awarded the slightest bit of relief to hear the word “no” at the other end. It washed over him as he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, alright. Thanks,” he mumbled hanging up. He sat in his chair, and he glanced at Niall balling his hands into fists. “She gave back all the money,” he mumbled.

Niall did the easy and quick calculations in his head regarding the last eight or so months. “Whoa.”

Harry told him all about the reference calls, the graduation ceremony, and the lawyers’ meeting with her mum, and the good news. He told Niall how he paid for her student loans and kept all of it hidden from her. Harry tried to hide the tears in his eyes, but Niall knew they were there in his voice as he listened.

“Harry...you gotta just talk to her.”

“M’pretty sure she hates me.”

“That’s a load of shit, alright,” Niall said knowingly. “She loves you.” Harry felt his heart hoping a bit by way of fluttering against his ribs. He shook his head. He didn’t want to hope because she looked betrayed, and it was all his fault. Niall shook his head. “She’s all snively and you’re all angry. You two are quite the pair. You could have a show.”

He wanted to throw something at Niall, but he was too exhausted to hold his head up, let alone hold anything worth throwing—and he wouldn’t really throw something at his best friend. So, he sat there, devastated that she gave him the money back. It worried him to the core. It seemed his new fear of her leaving that apartment was going to be real, sooner rather than later.

And if she left Styles Incorporated…

“She said that you needed this today,” Niall shrugged and put a folder on Harry’s desk in front of him. He winced knowing she was still helping even when she was upset with him. “Tragic that I have to play messenger,” he shook his head. “I hope you talk to her.”

But Harry didn’t want to press. It was obvious he pressed too much and now he had to wait for her to forgive him.

Maybe.

*

Wednesday

She didn’t come to work.

There was nothing else to say.

There was nothing he could think about except that she didn’t come to work.

He didn’t get to see her. All day and an entire near-sleepless night. He impulsively shopped for items scheduled to be delivered the following day. Items he didn’t need but he needed to get for her...even if she never set foot in his house again.

There was nothing else he could think about.

*

Thursday

Niall brought his tea to him that afternoon.

So, a new nightmare plagued him, and he continued to think of nothing else but the distance she was putting between them.

*

Friday

For the second time in his life, and moreover, the second time within a year, Harry left work early. Niall was insistent. He was agitated beyond belief, his one meeting he was completely distracted that Niall did most of the talking. Harry’s company was substantial, but surely, she couldn’t avoid him on the entire floor.

But she did. She managed somehow to avoid him even when he kept going in and out of Niall’s office and thereby walking through her little space. But she wasn’t there a single of the seven or so times he walked through. At one point he walked in for the sake of walking in. Niall was on the phone with a client. Harry just shook his head and left before even registering the fact Niall was there.

It was after the meeting that Niall encouraged him to leave for the day. “I don’t need to,” he snapped at his friend. “Jus’ get on with it,” he muttered.

Niall sighed, blew a long breath out his mouth. He packed his belongings from off the table and patted Harry on the back. “Meeting’s over, Harry,” he said and left him alone in the conference room.

He knew he was in tough shape but not even realizing the meeting was over seemed bad even for the way he was feeling. Rubbing the back of his head, he headed once more to Niall’s office. This time he wasn’t surprised she wasn’t there. Harry apologized to Niall quickly, returned to gather his stuff from his office, and left for home.

*

“Harry went home, so you don’t have to keep hiding,” Niall rolled his eyes as she tentatively tiptoed into her office. He didn’t look up, so he didn’t see the way she nearly dropped all of the papers in her arms at Niall’s sudden (accurate) accusation that she was hiding.

She bit her lip and put the papers on her desk. Niall didn’t look up as she walked toward his desk. “I yelled at him,” she whispered.

“Good, he probably deserved it,” Niall said simply. “People don’t yell at him enough. Think because he’s CEO, he’s without a flaw,” he shrugged. “He’s not, I’ve never seen him finish one document on his own because he never remembers how to fill it out. The man can’t multiply to save his life—I always do the tip at the restaurant. He has a terrible signature on contracts. It’s embarrassing to sign my name next to his. Also, he has a terrible handicap even though he’s been golfing for at least seven or so years now,” he said as if that should be the reason that she could yell at him. He looked up and smiled at her because it was an attempt to make her laugh but didn’t seem to do the trick.

“He’s also really cranky when he doesn’t see you at night now,” this was much softer said. His voice quiet as he further explained this. “And he bothers me. Called me at one in the morning last night asking if I wanted a porch swing. Do you know he has an online shopping problem? It’s worst when he's upset. He panic-ordered three sets of dishware when you got burned,” he continued. Her heart fluttered at the mention of a porch swing. It shot through her like a bolt of electricity. That was because of her. She knew it. But Niall’s attempt still got him not even a smirk. “You should probably go after him,” he smiled at her sadly once more. “You need to talk to him.”

She shook her head. “He won’t forgive me.”

Niall rolled his eyes again. “Would you forgive him if this whole crazy scenario was reversed?”

She looked at her feet because she wouldn’t even need to forgive him. It would be a non-issue. “I see why Harry made you his sous-chef around here,” she muttered...because yes, of course she would. Probably before he even tried to apologize, at that.

“I knew there was a reason,” he winked at her. “Have a lovely weekend, darling,” he said going back to the documents on his desk.

“Are you sure?” She whispered after a moment.

“He loves you. I promise.”

“But all the other interns...the...companions. I’d be no different falling all over him.”

“He fell for you long before you did,” he told her simply.

She swallowed, blushing at the notion. Her stomach flipped with hope. “Do you know he went to the funeral?” She whispered.

Niall frowned because he didn’t know that, but he did know that had to hurt her. He looked back up to meet her gaze and he smiled gently at her. “Another reason you should yell at him.”

“You’re a really good friend, Niall,” she rolled her eyes.

“Can’t wait to be one of your best friends, love,” he winked.

She took one more deep breath, hurried over to Niall’s desk. She kissed his cheek as he worked. He smiled. “Sorry I’m taking your job,” she whispered to him.

He threw his head back a bit and laughed. “I’d like to see you try,” but he didn’t mind, really. It would be worth it to have her around.

*

The driver was waiting at the edge of the cemetery. She took her wedges off so she wouldn’t get them covered in dirt as she sat cross-legged on the ground. She fiddled with the flowers—Eleanor probably planted them. Or maybe even her mom. She was surprised because there weren’t as many weeds pushing through the ground as there should have been—especially when she took notice of the other stones nearby. “I think you’d really like him,” she whispered. Of course, there was no response. “Louis likes him,” she told him. “So...there’s that,” she shrugged. “And he has a porch swing,” she added. “We’re not even together and he still didn’t cheat on me, so he beat the last guy, y’know?” she smirked sadly. “I wish you could’ve met him...”

She paused, looking around the grounds for a moment before she continued. “If you look, you can see a car over there, yeah? That poor man has to follow me everywhere because Harry doesn’t want me to get stuck without a ride in inclement weather or something,” she whispered, smiled sadly. “I’m so in love with him, I swear I can feel it in the atoms of my heart,” her eyes watered. “I gave him all the money back. I want him to know that I’m not...I don’t want money. I just want him,” she told him. “I know you would probably hate the idea of me being in love with anyone...but at least I waited until college...poor El stuck with Louis for the rest of her life,” she sighed as if it really were a tragedy. But it wasn’t. She loved Eleanor and Louis so much.

“Niall said he’s really bad at golf though, so you could still make fun of him about something,” she let out a watery laugh. “I miss you...so much,” she whispered. “I hope Dad is happy again,” she glanced over at the nearby plot of land. “He missed you,” she sniffled. “We all miss you,” her voice cracked. “Okay...I’m gonna go grovel for forgiveness, now,” she said. “I’ll see you soon,” she kissed two of her fingers and pressed them over his name before getting off the ground, brushing the dirt off, and headed for the car.

“Are you alright, Miss?” He asked with the utmost concern. He was opening the door for her as she approached.

She nodded, sniffling, and wiping her eyes. “For now,” she sighed. “Can you bring me to Harry’s?” She asked.

*

Harry didn’t want to answer the door. But whoever was on the other side knocked, then rang the doorbell. Knocked again. Doorbell again. Persistent.

If it was Niall coming to console him, he was going to kill him, simple as that. “For fucks sake,” he grumbled marching to the door in an angry fit. “Niall, y’made me leave early, and I did. What d’you want?” He snapped loud enough to hear through the door before ripping it out of the way.

She flinched at his harsh tone. Her eyes were puffy and red. She looked so defeated as she turned her gaze to the ground. His heart hammered against his ribs in total shock that she was there. Left him utterly speechless. “I know this is stupid...” she started. “I’m sorry. It’s not enough because you deserve so much more than sorry. It’s never going to be enough, but I am so... very sorry. I was...” she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what I was. What I said was so hurtful and so untrue. You have to believe that,” she was staring at her feet while she spoke. “Harry,” her voice cracked, and she was so worried it wasn’t enough. He didn’t make any noise and she was certain if he didn’t forgive her, she would die in that spot. “I know you didn’t mean anything by what you did other than to help me. But I don’t accept help very well... in case it wasn’t obvious. Especially when it comes to something like...my career or my...past,” she explained. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you; I shouldn’t have said such awful things and I would time travel back to that moment and slap myself for even thinking about speaking to you like that. It was horrible,” she shook her head. “I’ll beg every day for as long as you want if you’ll forgive me,” she whispered. “I am—”

Harry pulled her into his arms suddenly, one arm around her waist, the other snaking up her back to hold the back of her head. He clutched her against him as tightly as he could without hurting her or inhibiting her breathing. “You were already forgiven,” he murmured breathing deeply into her hair. He kissed the side of her face. She released a long breath and buried her face against the side of his neck.

“You shouldn’t give in so easily,” she sniffled clinging back to him like he was a buoy. Of course, he kept her afloat.

“I’ll yell at you later if that’ll make you feel better.”

She nodded. “It really would.”

He smiled, kissed the side of her head again. Harry wouldn’t yell at her if his life depended on it. “I jus’ want t’take care of you,” he promised. “That’s it.”

“I know, you told me that first day you messaged me.” He smirked thinking about how a year ago, she wasn’t in his mind at all. He didn’t even know she existed. Now, he thought about spending one second without her beside him and it seemed like full-blown torture. “Louis said I take care of everyone else because the last time someone cared about me, they died,” she said bluntly. “Seven years of therapy and Louis was the only one who said it,” she muttered. Harry was glad she was tucked below his chin because he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. It was incredible she could make a joke in even the saddest of circumstances. She took a shivering, heaving breath. Harry tried to pull back so he could see her, but she squeezed him in place. Like she didn’t want to say it while looking at him. He nodded in encouragement for her to continue. “People will know if you hire me. You’d literally be making a position for me. And so… I thought if I got a job elsewhere... we could…” she swallowed the lump in her throat. She tucked her face deeper in his shoulder. “I…uh...”

He pulled back this time and didn’t stop when she tried to hold him in place. He pressed his hand to the side of her face and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “Thought we could be a real couple?” He asked softly.

Her cheeks turned red as ever and she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

He didn’t pause for even half a second. He didn’t want her to make her feel embarrassed or worried about anything regarding their future. “Kitten, m’so in love with you, I don’t care if we tell the entire world. I don’t care if everyone knows or if no one knows. All that matters t’me is that I love you so much.”

Her eyes watered and her heart melted. She didn’t know how to tell him she loved him so much it hurt but he said it so beautifully and without a care. She didn’t know how to articulate it as perfectly as he did. “They should really put a warning on that site about how you may accidentally find your soul mate.”

He managed to smile this time for just a mere moment as she spoke; his heart skipped beats waiting for her to say she loved him back. While she didn’t say it exactly as he thought she would (but when did she ever do what he expected?), it was exactly what he wanted her to say and meant just as much if not even more.

Then he kissed her so deeply he thought he might bruise her lips. But if he did, he thought she might not even mind.

*

Harry lifted her legs, so they were wrapped around his hips. He carried her all the way to the kitchen, pausing only to kick the door closed. He settled her on the counter and started looking for some medicine. He didn’t ask if her head hurt because the redness in her eyes told him it was aching.

“You have t’take the money back,” Harry said leaning down to take her shoes off as she swallowed the medicine. He tossed them toward the TV room. “I shattered a lamp over it,” he stood back up and kissed her again on the forehead.

 “Niall told me,” she smirked at him. He stood between her knees.

“Can’t have any secrets with him,” Harry muttered.

She giggled and Harry pressed his lips to hers again then pulled back so he could hold her face between his hands. He smiled at her with a shake of his head. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.

“Mm... the bloodshot eyes? The tired dark circles? The gray skin? That does it for you?”

“M-hmm,” he pressed his nose along the side of her face inhaling the mixture of her hair and soap. He didn’t cater to her insults to herself. “Take the money back,” he mumbled into her ear and pressed a series of kisses down the length of her neck. She shook her head trying to ignore the dizziness she felt from his lips on her skin. “Please kitten,” he was begging. Objectively, it was adorable. But she couldn’t accept it.

“Baby, you can’t pay me a salary, pay my student loans, and let me live here all—”

“You’re going t’live here?” He pulled back from her neck suddenly with a sparkle in his eyes that made it look like he was a little kid. Like it was Christmas, and he was getting the sled he asked for.

Her face was definitely not gray at that moment. She was completely blushing almost beyond recognition at her mistaken words. She shook her head quickly, trying to backtrack (uselessly). “No! I meant the apartment! I didn’t say that—”

“Please, please, please,” he now for sure, full-on begged. “Please live here, kitten.”

Her heart fluttered and she bit her lip trying to recover from how much she had revealed by accident. “Well...what am I supposed to do with all my great IKEA furniture?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes and pressed his face back into her neck. She wrapped her arms and legs around him clinging to him. “Throw it out, of course.”

“You’re so mean.”

He nodded against her and sighed, so happy she was there. So happy she was all his. “The meanest,” he assented. “Please live here,” he mumbled kissing the curve where her shoulder and neck met.

“You do have a porch swing,” she amended verbally but as if she were weighing the consideration in her head. His lips on her skin had such an effect on her it was hard to stand her ground or concentrate on joking around with him about the idea. “Speaking of—Niall told me you asked if he wanted one. Are you getting a new one or someth—what’s that?” She asked, glancing out the window as she spoke. She pushed him away immediately, rushing outside. She stood on his porch in total shock staring at his newest purchase before she turned back to him with a curious expression.

He followed behind her and stood in the doorway. “You said you would sleep out here if you could,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d make it possible...in case you ever came back.”

Where her favorite porch swing used to hang, was now a spacious, gorgeous, porch bed with so many pillows, so many blankets, and it nearly looked comfier than her lovely mattress back at the apartment. Her eyes watered and she swallowed so hard because she knew she had said that nearly three months ago in passing. And he remembered. So even when she wasn’t speaking to him, it was enough that he did something for her without knowing if she’d really be back. “You are something else, Harry.”

“Wait till y’see my new canopy bed,” he smirked feeling his cheeks warm at her compliment. Her heart nearly stopped because the canopy was mentioned almost nine months ago and the idea that he remembered anything from nine months ago was...well it was very Harry and very perfect.

“Baby, I love you and your impulse shopping so very much,” she whispered unable to look away from that beautiful reminder of how much he adored her. It made her feel so light that he cared for her so much. Now that he did, it was hard to imagine not feeling like this ever again.

Harry had other ideas though. He twisted her so quickly, her breath caught in her throat. He turned her back to face him and not the new bed. One arm wrapped around her waist, and he brought his other hand to her cheek in the one instant that she couldn’t even stumble because Harry had such a tight hold on her. He smiled at her, as if he was just told he won the lottery. Truly, he felt like he did. “Say it again,” he mumbled pressing his forehead to hers, his lips almost brushing hers as he spoke. She smiled shyly, the heat coming from her cheek warmed Harry’s hand.

“Say what? I love you?” She asked looping her arms loosely around his neck. He nodded silently and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you,” she grinned so cutely Harry thought he would burst.

“Again,” he mumbled smiling as he carefully squeezed around her waist to lift her just so her toes hovered above the ground. She giggled.

“I love you.”

He kissed her left cheek. “More,” he inched toward the new outdoor bed.

“I love you,” she whispered, giggling more at his sweet request as he kissed her right cheek.

“Again,” he repeated.

“I love you, so, so much Harry Styles,” she whispered, holding his face between her hands, and Harry laid her back on the bed and kissed her again, fully on the lips with no intention of leaving that space for the rest of the weekend. Or until she asked to go see the canopy bed.

Whatever she wanted.

--

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[cowgurrrl]

Blueberry Pancakes

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!fem reader

Summary: The morning after [4.5k]

Author’s note: thank you for being patient also I was going to write more of the spicy spice but I got lazy so this is what you get lol fic named after this song

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, June putting her theatre minor and knowledge of NYC to work, Joel being needy, ✨opening up emotionally✨, smut (oral f receiving), we’re coming to the end of our time in NYC :(

Joel pressing kisses to your face is the first thing you feel when you wake up. You lazily reach for him, not even bothering to open your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. "Good morning," he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep, and you hum. You smile and open your eyes to see him, messy hair and all, bathed in sunlight. Tattoos previously hidden by his shirt are now on full display, and your fingers drop to trace the inky lines. He kisses your nose and tucks some hair behind your ear. "I ordered us room service." 

"Did you get me a bagel?" 

"No, 'm a complete idiot," he says sarcastically, and you laugh. "What d'you have scheduled for today?"

"I have to make an appearance on the Tonight Show, but other than that, I'm free all day. Why?" You ask, and he smiles before ducking his head into your neck and kissing you more. Maybe it's because you never let yourself notice, or he didn't let you see, but Joel Miller is incredibly affectionate. You'd be an idiot not to let him worship you like you're the one who hung the moon and the stars.

"Because my sound mixing guy said he doesn't need me to come in, so I have," kiss. "The whole," kiss. "Day," kiss. "Off." He lifts his head to kiss your lips again but is interrupted by a knock at the door. He sighs, and you laugh, already pushing him off you so you can open the door. 

"I love how you're acting like you're not the one who ordered it," you say as you grab his Lakers shirt from the top of his suitcase, the hem of it hitting the tops of your thighs, and open the door to grab the two plates covered with a tin dish at your door. Joel sits up to watch you close the door behind you and set the dishes down on the table. "What?" You question his lingering eyes, and he shrugs.

"You look ridiculously hot wearin' my clothes." 

"You just like it because you know I'm not wearing any underwear." 

"I mean, that's not entirely wrong." He gets out of bed to pull on a pair of boxers from his bag and pads over to you, rubbing sleep from his eye. He's a sight to behold like this. All tan skin, hard muscle, and delicate black lines adorning his body. He wraps his arm around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder as you pull out your phone and take a picture of the beautiful breakfast spread. You post a vague Instagram story in which you can clearly see the two plates in front of you and the slightest peek of Joel's hand in the frame. "D'you like causin' chaos, or am I a bad influence?" 

"It's a little fun to watch them freak out." You admit, and he laughs. He presses a quick kiss to your jaw before releasing you to pull your chair out for you. You sit down and flip your phone face down on the table as Melanie texts you a screenshot of your post with a thumbs-up emoji. She can wait.

You and Joel eat the breakfast he ordered for you and talk. You tell him about coordinating with the cast of Red Dirt Girl for the premiere and show him a picture of you and Lilly together on set. He explains how sound mixing works and why he wanted to come all the way out to New York to work with this one guy when there are plenty of other sound mixers in Los Angeles. "I've worked with him a long time," he tells you. "I don't trust anyone else." You talk about wanting to visit the places you loved when you lived in the city. It's been years since you've been able to come back and just have fun. You're secretly really excited to show him your old stomping grounds.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Joel asks as you take a sip of coffee.

"Go for it."

"Before last night, when's the last time you had sex with someone?" There's no malice or amusement in his voice. He's genuinely curious. You sigh and stare into your mug.

"A year ago. Maybe longer."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Nothin'. I just can't believe that."

"Why? It's not like I've been dating since I came to LA. I work all the time. I'm never home, and when I am, it's not like I'm doing anything exciting." You say, and he shrugs.

"You're a beautiful woman. Smart. Funny. Not to mention rich and famous," he says, and you laugh. "I thought men would be climbin' over each other to be with you."

"Men are also intimidated by a woman who makes more money or works more than they do."

"Why do you work so much?" He asks. "People obviously like you if they keep hirin' you. Realistically, you could take a year-long break and just relax for the first time in God knows how long."

"I've always worked a lot. In college, I worked two different jobs, and when I graduated, I took almost every role or position I was offered because I couldn't afford not to. I think it was a way to keep me moving, keep my mind off of my family back home or the lives my friends were starting without me. Because I was in the city and so far away, it felt easy for them to forget about me. But they can't forget about me if I'm making new movies or shows or doing interviews."

"Is that somethin' you're afraid of? Being forgotten?" He asks, and you nod. You're not sure why you're divulging this much information to him so early in the day. You blame the way he looks at you.

"It's why I bite my tongue or play into the celebrity antics or sign a contract to date a rockstar," you say, and he smiles. "If I'm always giving them something to talk about, they can't throw me away." He reaches for your hand across the table, and a little shock passes from his fingers to yours.

"Well, you, my dear, are anythin' but forgettable,"

"Thanks," 

"'M serious. Those people would be fuckin' idiots to let you pass 'em by, and I'm sorry nobody's told you that." He says, squeezing your hand like he's trying to press the words into your skin. You bite the inside of your cheek as your brain catches up to what he's saying, tears pricking in your eyes embarrassingly fast. You stand, cross to his chair, and straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rest on your bare thighs, his thumbs tracing patterns there. 

"Where've you been hiding this whole time?" You ask quietly, like if you say it too loud, the reverie will break, and everything will go back to the way it was before you came to New York. 

"Could ask you the same thing." He whispers, and you smile. You lean down and kiss him, slow in your movements. You play with the curls at the nape of his neck and just relish in the feeling of his lips on yours. It's dizzying how his stubble scratches against your skin, the hair already coming back in even though he just shaved the other day. He trails his hands upwards until he barely grazes your inner thighs, and you put your hands on his wrists to stop him.

"As much as I would love to do that again," you say against his lips. "I've got a list of places to visit today, and we can't do that if you keep getting handsy." 

"A list? You're so official." He asks, and you hum as you slide off his lap. You plant your feet and move toward the bathroom, but he snags your hand before you can get far and keeps you close for another second before letting it go. You can't suppress the giddy smile on your face as you start your skincare routine and plan an outfit in your head. The hotel room is quiet, and both of you are comfortable enough to slip into domestic silence as you get ready for the day. Or, at least, you would've been if you hadn't moved closer to the mirror to put sunscreen on and noticed the mark on your neck. 

"Joel Miller!" You shout. He appears in the doorway a second later with a confused look on his face. "Are you a fucking teenager? Look at this!" You point at the hickey bruising your skin, and he smirks.

"I don't remember you tryna stop me." 

"You're a menace."

"Yeah, yeah." He says as he reaches around you to grab something, smacking your ass and running before you can get payback, and you laugh. You call a ceasefire long enough to get dressed, but you do steal one of his white button-ups and pair it with jeans. When you come out of the bathroom with the tiniest bit of makeup on, wearing his shirt, he plays at his knees, giving out. 

"You're gonna kill me," he groans. You laugh and shove him out of the way to grab your bag. 

"You're dramatic," you say as he kisses your cheek. You grab his hand and all but drag him out of the hotel room, sneakily leaving money on the nightstand for the poor housekeeping staff who has to wash the sheets while you're out. You expect him to drop your hand once you're out on the streets, but he doesn't; if anything, he walks closer to you and wraps his arm around your neck to kiss your temple while you wait at a crosswalk. One of the things you love about New York is how easy it is to blend in among the massive amounts of people rushing from one place to another. Nobody gives you or Joel a second glance, and if they do, you're already several steps ahead of them, and it's too late for them to say anything.

"Did you live around here?" Joel asks as you turn down 2nd Avenue, and you laugh.

"I was way too broke to live anywhere near the Upper East Side. I lived in a three-story walk-up in Hell's Kitchen with four other girls from NYU."

"How far's that?" 

"Hell's Kitchen?"

"Yeah." He says, and you look up at the street signs to figure out where you are. 

"Well, we're on 2nd and 83rd, and I lived on 9th and 51st, so a really long walk from here, but we could cut through Central Park or take the subway. Or, if you really want to be LA about it, we could get an Uber," you say, and he nods. "What do you wanna do?"

"It's been a really long time since I was in Central Park," he says, looking down at you and squeezing your hand. "Wanna give me a tour?" You smile and begin guiding him through the familiar route. You tell him little bits of history that you remember from the various times you went on sight-seeing tours with friends and family, pointing out the roof of the Dakota and telling him that Yoko Ono still lives there once it comes into view. Joel tells you what Sarah and Ellie are up to today as you cross the street into Central Park. Apparently, Sarah and Ellie are spending a girl's day at the Los Angeles Zoo and then getting dinner with Joel's brother later. He lights up and shows you a picture of the girls smiling together in front of the zoo signage. He shoots back a picture of the park, and you watch him type out a dorky dad message about making good decisions.

Central Park is gorgeous this time of year. The flowers are starting to sprout into a rainbow of colors as the last bits of bitter cold finally disappear. Somebody's playing music at Strawberry Fields like they always are, but Joel being Joel, stops and listens to the young guitarist with tattoos painting her arms. You lean on him, holding his bicep, as you stand there and listen to him hum along to the song. You stay there for as long as possible, ignoring sideways glances and growing whispers, and clap when she finishes singing. Joel drops two hundred dollar bills in her open case before disappearing with you down the path, away from lingering eyes and tilted iPhone cameras. 

You take him on a bit of detour but, thankfully, find the path emptier and quieter than most. The birds chirp and swoop low over your head as they gather materials for their nests. The sun shines through the trees the way the movies make it seem like it always does, and it just feels easy. Joel slides his hand into your back pocket as you listen to him ramble about how important it is to support young artists because they get so discouraged. You think he could probably talk about this exact subject for hours until you stumble out of the path and into the decades-old theatre. He pauses, taking in the sight of all the seats and the skyline peeking out behind the trees, and you smile at his reaction. You walk him down to the front of the stage and turn him around to look at the entire theatre. Even though you've been here hundreds of times and seen pictures of your friends here, the magnitude of Delacorte Theatre never ceases to take your breath away.

"I used to do Shakespeare in the Park here." You say, running your hand over the smooth surface of the stage. 

"Really?" He asks, and you hum. "You like it?"

"Loved it. I remember every second."

"I never did understand what those plays were about."

"Didn't you read Shakespeare in school?" You ask, and he laughs, shaking his head.

"I'm from Texas, and I had a baby before a degree. Do you think I read Shakespeare?" He says, humor in his tone, and you have to fight the instinct to ask about Sarah and how he ended up a single father at twenty-two.

"You should try it. It's really not that hard once you understand the rhythm and everything." You say instead, and he furrows his eyebrows at you.

"What d'you mean?"

"It's kinda like a song. You speak the words in iambic pentameter and give them meaning as you say them. Every sentence should be a revelation like you've never had the thought before, even if you've read it a million times."

"Iambic what?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"Here," you say, facing him. You put his hand over your heart, your own hand resting on his wrist, and give him a second to adjust to the beating. "Feel it?" You ask, and he nods. "That ba bum ba bum ba bum is how you stress the syllables." You take a deep breath and recall an old monologue from the depths of your brain. Then, surrounded by the ghosts of your past and the thousands of people who've ever walked the stage, you fill Delacorte with words older than the city itself. You keep yourself in time with the steady pulse in Joel's wrist and do your best to make every breath count. After years of auditions and callbacks and no after no after no, this, performing for him, is the scariest thing you've ever done. He stares at you once you're done repeating Helena's lines from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and his jaw moves as he thinks. 

"What's it mean to you? Not what the books tell you it should mean." He asks quietly. 

"It's her admitting her faults. She's saying, "I know I fucked up, and I'm sorry. I can't take back what I've done, and I hurt you, but I love you, and because I love you, I'm letting you go." She's trying to say goodbye. Give their friendship meaning even when Hermia is furious at her," you say, and he nods. "The last person I dated was in that show with me. He played Oberon and was a complete asshole, but he broke my heart. Said I'd never make it in the industry. He actually broke up with me on closing night. This is the first time I've been back since." You say. He doesn't ask why you're telling him this or question the story. He just pulls you close and hugs you. He rubs your back and presses his lips to the crown of your head, and for just a second, New York City quiets down. 

"Fuck that guy," Joel says against your hair, and you laugh as you look up at him. 

"Yeah, fuck that guy." You agree. Then, just as quickly as the smile took over his face, he turns pensive again.

"Thank you for showin' me this."

"You're welcome."

You linger in the theatre for a few more minutes, reflecting on the journey your career has taken, before continuing your trek through Central Park. You walk past the children's playground where yuppie moms or their nannies watch over the screaming kids climbing the jungle gyms. Joel tells you about the time Ellie broke her arm because she was dared to climb as high as she could on the play structure. She was ten. 

"Cried the whole way to the hospital." He shakes his head.

"You or Ellie?"

"Are you kiddin'? Of course, it was me," he says, and you have to stop in the middle of the sidewalk from laughing so hard. "I can't believe you're laughin' at me! My baby girl was hurt!"

"Aw, you're tearing up now!" You say as you swipe your thumbs underneath his eyes. "Oh, honey." You giggle as you kiss his cheek, resting your hands on his face.

"Yeah, you should feel bad for makin' me cry." 

"You're just a big softie."

"For them? Always." He says like it's the easiest thing in the world. It stops you in your tracks. You know countless men with children who never tell their kids how much they love them or even show up for them. But here's Joel Miller crying about an accident that happened four years ago because of how much he loves his daughters. 

"Sarah and Ellie are really lucky to have you as their dad." You tell him, and you swear, more tears glisten in his eyes for just a moment. He clears his throat and turns to kiss the inside of your wrist.

"Thank you." He says, and you nod. He tucks you under his arm, and you guys finally cross the street out of Central Park.

Once you're close enough, you take Joel to your favorite pizza place in Hell's Kitchen, where you can still get a slice bigger than your head for a dollar. He's only slightly surprised at how fast the man behind the counter talks, but you chalk it up to him being in California for so long, where every syllable has to last three seconds longer. You miss New York, you realize, as you walk through the streets with him. It's an ache so deep in your heart that it makes you wonder why you ever left. But then you pass the building where you auditioned for an off off off off Broadway play and got called back, but when you showed up, the casting director just looked up and went, "Who are you?" That's enough to make you remember. 

Still, as you take him by your old apartment building, the restaurant you waitressed at until the day before you left for Los Angeles, and the subway station where you jumped the turnstiles too many times to count because you didn't have enough money for the train fare, you think you want to retrace every step you've ever taken on this earth just to make new memories with him. With Joel, everything is made fresh and exciting again because you've never gotten to experience these things with him by your side. 

A dangerous and stupid thought wiggles its way into your brain as you take the subway back to the Upper East Side, his body stabilizing yours as the car jolts forward and shakes, even though you're way more accustomed to the train's movements than him. You shoo it away before it becomes anything more, chalking it up to nostalgia and vulnerability. But when the subway emerges from the depths of the dirty, underground station and chugs its way through the elevated track, sunshine beaming into the cars and making Joel's eyes look like halos, it returns.

"What?" He asks, and you shake your head. "You're starin'."

"Maybe I just like looking at you."

"Weirdo." 

"Weirdo." You copy his deep tone, and he gives you a look. The subway doors open at your stop, and you and Joel tumble out of the car. He trusts you to guide him through the crowd and out of the station, holding his hand as he walks behind you. Traffic has picked up now that the work day is over, and you and Joel have to run between cars to make it to the hotel resulting in getting tagged in a picture of you and Joel running through the street with the caption, "What the fuck just happened!!!" As you approach the hotel doors, a group of young girls' eyes widen when they see you and Joel together. Joel notices and offers a very quick hello before ducking inside the hotel lobby, a chorus of excited voices echoing behind you. 

When you make it up to your hotel room, you sigh and fight the urge to crawl back into bed, your walk through the many neighborhoods finally catching up with you. A garment bag hangs in the open closet, and you unzip it to find the Cinderella blue dress your stylist got for you to wear tonight. It's short and has little flowers embroidered in the skirt, and you smile at how cute it is. "What time d'you have to be at the studio?" Joel asks, basically reading your mind as he comes up behind you to look at the dress.

"Couple hours. I need to take a shower and get ready soon." You say, turning to face him, and he smirks.

"Want some company?"

"Sure." 

"Wait, really?" He asks, and you laugh as you move into the bathroom, kicking your shoes and socks off by the sink. You turn on the shower and start unbuttoning your shirt when you notice him still standing by the closet.  

"Oh, my God, you're like a teenage boy. Yes, but hurry up!" You say, and he almost immediately pulls his shirt over his head and rushes into the bathroom with you. He's on you in a second, his hands flying to the button of your jeans, and you smile against him. "I really did mean just shower." You're half-joking, and he seems to realize it because he hums and pushes your pants down.

"Course, let me just help you outta these," he says, dropping to his knees in front of you. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him before you, guiding your legs out of the denim, but when he presses gentle kisses up your knee, you know you're done for. He takes his time, nipping and licking at the skin of your thighs like nothing else matters. He carefully guides your leg over his shoulder as he traces the fabric of your panties, his lips ghosting over you. Your hand lands in his hair as you stare down at him, his big hands reaching back and palming at your ass. He presses a gentle kiss to your clit, and you let out a shaky breath. "Still wanna take a shower instead?"

"You're an asshole." You say, and he hums smugly against your pussy, smirking as he finally tugs your underwear down and slides one deft finger through your wetness. You're dripping from his teasing, and you don't even have the heart to be embarrassed about it.  

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like it when I'm an asshole," he says. For half a second, you think he'll make you beg like he did last night, but then, without warning, he leans forward and licks hungrily into you. His mouth is hot and slow as he tastes you for the first time, all but moaning as you coat his tongue. He licks broad stripes through you, his nose bumping against your clit every time, and you shiver despite the sweat forming on the back of your neck. You grip his hair between your fingers and gasp when he slips two fingers into your pussy. You're still a little sore, but he gives you a second to adjust, focusing all his attention on devouring you like a man starved. "You taste so fuckin' good, baby. Been thinkin' 'bout this since you stole that fuckin' cigarette from me." He mumbles, his stubble scraping the inside of your thighs perfectly. 

"I thought, oh fuck," you moan as he starts moving his fingers inside of you, the drag of them making you see stars. "Thought you hated me."

"I thought you hated me," he says, moving to kiss your inner thigh and look up at you. The muscles in his forearms flex as his fingers curl, and you whine. His mouth is back on you, drawing tight circles into your clit with his tongue, and dark eyes hold your gaze. Everything around you melts, the water hitting the tile behind you becoming nothing more than white noise as pleasure swims through your veins. "But we just had to figure each other out. Huh, pretty girl?" You clench around his fingers, and he chuckles lowly. "I knew you liked it when I called you that. Did you go home and touch yourself after I dropped you off? I would've come inside to help you, you poor thing." He makes a sympathetic sound, the vibration making you buck your hips. 

You can't even formulate a response as his fingers stroke at your walls, grazing that spongy part inside you enough to make you throw your head back. He sucks your clit between his lips and hums against you again. You moan his name over and over again, the sound of your voice echoing around you. Your hands move from his hair to his shoulders, and you hold onto him for dear life. "If you let me fall, I will never fucking forgive you." You manage, and he laughs. 

"I've got you, sweetheart." He says as he wraps his other hand around your waist, pressing you closer to his mouth. His fingers pump in and out of you steadily, and he licks at your clit again, the slightest scrape of his teeth making you shout as you come. He doesn't let up. The filthy sound of his fingers fucking you through your orgasm mix with your shaky moans, and you have to literally pull him away by his hair for him to stop.  

"You're gonna kill me." You breathe as he stands and kisses you.

"You're dramatic." 

[telekitnetic-art]

Hi!! Your art is so fucking cool! Can I ask what the process looks like for form line? Ex. What do your sketches look like when they are really rough? How do you go from idea -> final product. 💕

Hadih, thanks so much for your question!

Honestly, it's sort of hard to explain? I do have some sketches to sort of give an idea though.

This sketch I posted a couple days ago is a pretty good example of what my initial concept sketches sometimes look like.. As you can see, they're pretty chaotic and very rough, and usually these sketches are more about getting the idea down then actually making the formline itself. There aren't formline shapes just yet, although I do sometimes sketch out elements or shapes like eyes or bodies or paws/hands that will usually have an ovoid in it, because those elements tend to be a focus or centerpiece. The sketch is obviously not final, and things can change along the way to account for space and balance as well as what I'm trying to convey. (These sketches aren't entirely accurate of course because they're for pieces that are meant to be fusions of character illustrations and formline art, but they're the best thing I can find on my pc at the moment)

The rough sketch helps me figure out the flow of the piece, and once I'm satisfied with it I try and get to putting down the shapes and silhouette, and it's here where I try to find the balance with my rough sketch and how the shapes can fit and behave in the piece to the best of their limits while also still conveying the message I want to send. The most common shape I start with is the focus shapes, which are usually ovoids.

This rough of my harbor seal formline which I sent to my aunt for review sort of gives a better Idea of what I mean when I say I try and focus on where the centerpoints will be. Ovoids are usually a focus, so you can see them pop up a lot; in the body, the head, the eyes, the tail, etc. Ovoids are so important and probably the most common shape in formline art, and one of the most common feedback I get from my aunt is to adjust how the ovoid looks in any one of my pieces; she often compared them to a loaf of bread! You don't want your ovoids to look like a loaf of bread! (Her words, not mine). I feel like I've gotten better at drawing ovoids though, because she gives it as feedback less and less nowadays. Ovoids usually also have to have a bit of weight/perspective to them; it's hard to describe but essentially the top of the ovoid should usually be bigger/thicker/have more weight then the bottom.

From ovoids, the next shapes are usually circles, u-shapes and crescents, then usually y-shapes/trigons. It can be difficult, because the key is to make sure the shapes flow together and feel cohesive, as well as to make sure the negative/positive space balance feels right. Also a fun tidbit, trigons are most typically used to essentially fill space; it's always important to make sure that they are binding bigger shapes like u-shapes and ovoids and not stealing all the space and attention.

The lines in this stage tend to be very rough and messy, and I always try to go over the next rough draft with a smoother and cleaner pen.

Once the initial shapes are done, I'll usually send the piece to my aunt (sometimes I send them earlier on, when I'm in the middle of working out the shapes) for feedback! I am still a student in formline work after all; basically all of my teachings come from my aunt, who has a lot more years of work in formline art then me. She'll give me feedback and tips of what she thinks I should fix or experiment with. I adjust and fix and sometimes even completely delete and redo parts of the piece with her guidance. The list of things she tells me to change decreases with each piece, so I like to take that as a sign that I'm improving!

Once the black and white version of the design is done, I move onto coloring. Usually I already have a color scheme in mind when I go into a piece, so I'll mess around and put down colors and see how well they contrast before I color it. Typically, a piece will have about 3 colors; one for the background, one primary color, and one secondary color. I use a clipping layer to color the entire formline piece with the primary color, and then go in with the pen tool and bucket tool to use the secondary color. Adding in the secondary color is tricky but important because it once again falls into balancing positive and negative space/colors and the transitions between the two.

Once coloring is done, the project is basically finished! Unless there are some other plans I have for it, ie using it for an overlay in a bigger piece, colouring is usually the final stage.

And that's about it! I hope this helps you understand a bit; this isn't a perfect explanation as this is just from my own artistic POV and other nations and artists have their own process, but I hope it helps nonetheless!!

Edit: I forgot I posted other WIP formlines here before 😭 here and here!! You can sort of see me figure out the flow and balance of the designs in between the WIP and the finished piece!

[sommerflue-22]

Little Things They Do... (Pt. 2)

Little things they do to show you they love you

Read the other parts: Part 1 // Part 3

Featuring: Hange Zoe, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Onyankopon, Yelena, Nicolo

Warning: Modern setting, gn!Hange

Word Count: 650

Author Note

Hi, this is another version of "Little Things They Do"! I've linked the first part above for you to read. Here is the song I listened to while writing this. These actions can be perceived platonically or romantically, whatever suits you. Let me know if you want me to write for other characters as well!

Hange

Not everyone can appreciate Hange the way they are, so enthusiastic in certain subjects to the point where they can explain stuff that can't be found in Wikipedia. Having you around them, someone who appreciates them and supports them in whatever they do, is something that Hange never takes for granted. Whenever you both are having a conversation, Hange likes to drop a few 'fun facts' or trivial knowledges they've attained in their free time. They make it sound amusing as well, like that one line from a Philomena Cunk episode "The Egyptians believed that the most important thing you could do in your life was die."

Erwin

Erwin most likely pays close attention to small details such as how your necktie is crooked, or a tiny splatter of ketchup in your cheek after you ate your food. He will fix it for you every time. Expect him to stop you from rushing somewhere when you're already late, just for him to fix your hair a little bit. Also the constant reminder for you to tie your shoes because somehow they're always undone. He's just afraid that you'll trip over your own feet. It's not like you're that clumsy and untidy, he just cares about you a lot.

Levi

Levi is the cleanest and tidiest person you've ever met in your entire life, but he just lets you do things that usually irks him out. Whenever you come over to his place, he'll let you leave your dirty plate or cup in the sink. He'll wash it for you. He let you touch his TV remote even though your fingers are greasy from your snack. He'll wipe it later. He let you work/do your assignments in his living room, your papers and miscellaneous stuff scattered around the place. He'll help you pick them up later. It's his way to repay your kindness because amongst his closest circle, you deal with his sad and gloomy side the most.

Onyankopon

Onyankopon will happily help you take aesthetic pictures for your social media, anytime, anywhere, even if it's really crowded. He'll go crouching down, tilting his body, all out to get the best pictures. He knows how to change the setting, the ISO and all, of both digital cameras and smartphones. He will tell you where to stand and which way to face, working with the light to complement your figure. He takes it seriously. It's rare to find someone who is willing to take pictures for you, let alone one who is really good at it.

Yelena

Most of the time Yelena is calm and composed, which is why she kind of insisted in speaking on your behalf. No matter if you both are in a restaurant, in a bar, or at the dentist, she will speak for you. She just noticed a long time ago how you often have a hard time explaining things, something that is really easy for her to do. At first she said it's because you take too long when ordering food, or your voice was shaking as you talk to strangers it bothers her. However, as the time goes by, you realize it's her way to take care of you. You don't have to worry when you're out with Yelena, she will handle everything.

Nicolo

You and Nicolo eat together, like, almost in every chance you both get. Be it a fancy dinner, or snacking together while watching a movie at home, you both love to share your food. For some reason, whenever you have to open a packaging, Nicolo will grab it and open it for you. Once he teared the packaging open, he'll give it back to you. Nicolo is also a big "do you wanna try my food" guy. He will cut half of his steak and move it to your plate. He will break a KitKat in two and share a half of it with you.

I've never written anything about Onyankopon, Yelena, and Nicolo but apparently it was fun. I think I have a crush on Yelena now idk. I hope you like it as well! Lemme know what you think :3

[roxtron]

So I wanted to try to make a theory/analysis post on something I've wondered for a while: What the fuck are the Krang made of? Yeah that's literally my intro to this. Can I make smooth transitions? Absolutely not.

So starting out chronologically with their introduction, the majority of their animation shows smooth movements from their tentacles, basically like tentacles irl lmao. But further into that fight scene..

We can see their tentacles also strong enough to double as blades, able to stand up against (and nearly overpower) Leo's swords, and able to stab through Raph's shell. The material isn't exactly consistent in how solid it can be, able to go from the fluid movement of the tentacles, to sharp enough to function as a blade. This leads me to think their flesh is able to shapeshift in some minor ways, especially considering the way the tentacle shifts to become sharper as the Krang's leg is about to stab Leo.

And considering how goopy Krang 2 looks after being.. basically melted by April, it does show that at the very least their natural state of flesh is more fluid. Another interesting detail about this scene, and the way Krang 2 is animated after the attack that sort of feeds into the shapeshifting theory..

Back in the finale we're shown the skull of one of the Krangs. Yet after Krang 2 has her eye melted off, we see no hint of the skull. That could either just be from not wanting to add that much detail into the animation, which to be fair it would've likely given more extra work to animation that's already amazingly detailed as it is. OR- It could be from the flesh melting around the skull to keep it from being exposed. If we can see their bodies practically shift states of matter, and see Krang 3 use his own body to expand the portal, is it that much of a stretch to say they can shift their state of flesh to cover vulnerable parts of their body after being injured?

And another thing this screenshot helps to show, their bodies don't seem to all be made from the same material specifically. Normally I'd assume all the pinks/purples are the same type of flesh but I actually don't think it is. Their tounges specifically are shown to always be sharp, a slightly darker shade with the sort of lines and stripes covering it. Keep this part in mind.

After the Foot Clan get transformed into these creatures, it actually gives us further evidence on how the krang's flesh functions. When possessing humans, the Krang pieces sort of fuse and meld with human flesh. Whether it's adding on pieces, or, like with the stomach here, changing its shape entirely. But notice how they have those additions while still keeping the same colors their skin and bodies used to be.

But when Raph gets possessed? The Krang flesh doesn't fuse with his body at all. It's more of an add-on, especially with the way his arm back there shows the original shape of his hands, while still being covered in the Krang's pink. That, and his body isn't even the same color of pinks either. Some pieces are darker, and some don't even seem to be the same shape. Like I mentioned with the Krang's tounges earlier, I think those spikes on his arms and back are made of that same material. Darker color, lines and stripes, permanently spiked.. Sounds right to me.

Even in this scene, the colors of the tounge seem to match up, a lot of pieces attatched to his body fit into that, maybe that fleshy state inbetween transforming from fluid to solid? His tounge seems to be the only part of those spiked pieces that's able to mimic fluid movements, the rest seems to be solid in place. It definitely seems to be a different type of flesh, considering how the flesh around it seems to part instead of melding together.

As for the Krang's armor.. I was confused about it before but now that I think more about how the Krang themselves are built it's starting to make more sense. Essentially I think there's 3 main components to pay attention to. The darker gray of the chest and shoulderpads seem to be simple armor plates, made of some type of alien metal I assume.

The darkest blacks of the armor seem to just be the base pieces of the suit. I've seen theories it's partially organic, with the way it bleeds black liquid after Leo stabs into it, and honestly, that seems like a really good answer. I'm not sure if it's flesh with the black suit on top of it, or if that dark black with the markings is actually its natural state. (Though, side note, it makes me even more curious HOW they would've aquired or created this armor. Their tech is mostly made of flesh, sure, but with another theory about the Technodrome having a mind of its own, willing to let Donnie merge with it and control the ship.. It does make me wonder if their armor is made from the corpse of another being, or if they simply know how to create and generate flesh, and were able to mold it for their purposes.)

Anyway- The white pieces of the armor seem to be bone to me. What with the head looking like a skull, the tail having bone-structure and being animated that way, less smooth than everything else, jerking around each piece. But here's what makes it confusing, the gloves.

There's a couple scenes where the hand has folds on it. Yet the rest of the arm seems pretty solid, and the material must be solid enough to form claws at the end, so, what the hell is it?? This is what stumps me the most, it seems to be made of fabric and bone at the same time, I really don't understand it. The only real answer I have is that the material is comparable to the base body of the Krang. Flesh that's able to mold between different states, able to take that solid, bone-like appearance, to form claws at the end.. While still being moldable enough it's able to bend and fold like the tentacles can. Potentially, it's mostly solid and bone-like, but the pieces that need to be able to move are more flesh-like. The wrist and hands have more folds because they move more, and tend to get stuck in that state to move with the body, while the plates, spikes, and claws are able to be stuck in their solid states.

I dunno how to write conclusions, but that's most of what I'm able to observe for what the Krang are made of, and why pieces of their body function the way they do. Not only are they futuristic, they're also alien, so it's natural to assume they're just advanced enough to be capable of breaking these rules materials in our world have to stick to.

[wingsdippedingold]

The purpose of the mating bond (TL;DR at the bottom)

I was thinking about the mating bond (and consequently how much I hate it) and I started wondering about it's purpose. Apologies: This is barely organized rambling.

Our current explanations are: to create the most powerful offspring, and that the mates are perfect equals. We know its not romance since there are examples of unhappy mates so I'm ignoring that.

Rhysand suspected he was Feyre's mate while she was still human, aka before she was a high fae, and they were still mated after she was. This means that the bond doesn't care about physical bodies, which would play a part in powerful children since fae are just supposed to be so much better than humans in EVERY WAY. Therefore it had nothing do with offspring, but knowing SJM Nyx is gonna be even more powerful as an adult because her favs need to be worshipped like gods.

If the purpose was to create the most powerful offspring that wouldn't even work logistically? The two most powerful beings being mated would work, but everyone after that, not so much. Its kinda weird to explain so imagine 4 fae, their power ranking aligning with their number. 1 & 2 are mated because as the most powerful, their children would then also be the most powerful. With Rhys logic, 3 & 4 would be mated. But 3 & 4 child would be much less powerful than a 1 & 3 child, so that mate bond wouldn't produce the most powerful offspring. Of course the mother could just go by pairing the next most powerful people, but we've seen examples where even then that's not what happens. Of course unique combinations of genes could lead to powerful kids without the need of powerful parents, but considering Rhysand's high lord father was mated with an average Illyrian mother, that doesn't always seem to be the case.

Okay so power aside, the other explanation is that the two mates are two equal halves. Sure? I guess? But that seems to be a product of being mated rather than the reason. Rhysand's parents had huge power imbalances and their personalities didn't mesh. Sure, you could be equal without compatible personalities but power and livelihood? I find it hard to believe.

The mating bond is so inconvenient for it to be a reasonable way of getting any offspring produced in the first place. Rhysand and Cassian were both mated to people from the human world, of course those humans came to the fae world so their mating bond lines up with fate. BUT. They went 500 years without a mate just to end up with 20 yr old women as mates? Same thing with Rhysand's parents. A 900 YEAR OLD MAN AND A 19 YEAR OLD WOMAN. WHAT THE FUCK. High fae rarely leave their courts too, and considering everyone supposedly has a mate, most of their mates would be in other courts, whom they'll never meet. The fate argument that works for Feysand and Cassian fails here, because a mating bond being found is so incredibly rare (except for the fact all three archeron sisters found theirs) that it has nothing to do with fate and circumstance.

Nessian. I hate it with my entire heart. Their ENTIRE romance plot was Cassian domesticating Nesta. He consistently abused and ridiculed her, but Oh! They're mates! So it's out of love! Get out. Pack your 50 shades of domestic violence and get out. That man bitch laughed at her as she fell down the stairs, locked her in a house, insulted and made fun of her regularly, and lusted after her emaciated body while she was clearly struggling. He does not give a fuck about Nesta. They were happy at the end! SO WHAT. That doesn't change the way he acted. She kept pushing away his advances and he didn't not care. The same goes for Feysand but I've already discussed them enough.

Considering all of this, I have come to a conclusion!

SJM used the mating bond as an excuse to not have to write compelling romances that actually make sense and instead a fast track to poor fairy porn and her kinks.

[xthescarletbitch]

I've never requested writing before so idk if this is how it works (lol) but I saw your requests were open for Horizon and I'd love to see something along the lines of Aloy and her s/o are out hunting machines and her s/o gets injured (nothing like life ending, just enough to be concerning. I'm a whore for the hurt/comfort trope🫡)

If it's not something you're interested in writing, that's okay! Love your account regardless 🤭😆 No rush if you do write it, take your time 🫶 It can be in headcanon format or whatever you wanna do 😋

(Also I saw on your request page that Jinx from arcane was one of your fav characters- I. FREAKING. LOVE HER.)

thank you so much. <3 and jinx is amazing! i hope to write for her again soon as well.

hurt (aloy x reader)

sfw, but i still prefer no minors

cw: shitty title, mentions of injury and bleeding

word count: 1600+

author’s note: this is my first ever hurt/comfort, so i hope you like it! i feel like it was rushed through, but i also had no idea how to do it, i'm sorry. hopefully i'll get better with time. :)

“okay,” aloy begins, pointing toward a lone machine up ahead. “that one’s a sawtooth. it’s a combat machine weak to fire.”

you nod your head and scribble the notes down in your journal, even attempting to make a little doodle of the machine itself. “weak to fire. got it.” 

aloy waits patiently as you document a few more things about the machine. she ensures that all bases are covered so that you can do so in peace. 

you had asked her to take you machine-hunting to gain some more knowledge about the machines you tinker with. aloy has always done an amazing job bringing you what you needed, but you aspired to know more, to see more. at first, she was hesitant about bringing you along, assuring you that she could tell you all you needed to know. after some convincing and a promise that you wouldn’t get hurt, she caved. and now, here you are.

you tuck your journal back into your sack and look up at your eager girlfriend. she has that sweet smile across her face as she anticipates the hunt about to begin. 

“wait! i have something for you,” aloy exclaims, reaching into her own sack. she pulls out a bow and a few arrows, extending them out to you. “i had varga tweak it a bit.”

you grab the items from your girlfriend’s hand. you look over the bow, dragging your fingertips along the wood. it is smooth–very clearly in pristine condition. you notice the wood dyed in a shade of your favourite colour with your and aloy’s initials etched on it, a feature that only widens the smile you already have. 

“aloy,” you finally say, urging a sigh of relief from your partner, who was worried that you didn’t like it. “it’s beautiful. thank you.”

she smiles and admires you as you look over it some more. “i figured that you’d need one if we made this a regular thing.”

“oh, we will,” you assure, playing around with the string of the bow and aiming it out toward the sawtooth ahead, which is still unaware of your presence. “this will be a memorable hunt to kick off future ones.”

aloy shows you a few techniques with your newly acquired bow. you’re still at a distance away from the sawtooth, so you can do so safely. she stands behind you, her arms on top of your own, moving your body into place. of course, she will be there the entire time, but she still wants you to know how to protect yourself. “you can never be too careful,” she always says.

after you get the hang of it, aloy moves on to the focus on both of your temples. “do you remember what i taught you?”

“yes,” you nod. “i just tap on it, and it’ll give me some more information about the machines i see. i should also be careful to not get too distracted by it while the machine still roams.”

“very good,” she smiles and crosses her arms. “i think you’re ready.”

“really?” you excitedly ask, wanting to get into the action already.

she nods her head and takes a deep breath. “follow my lead, okay?”

“okay.”

aloy moves to a crouching position and gets back behind the rock that you both conversed behind before. you watch as she peeks above the rock and studies the sawtooth with her focus, seemingly opting to track the machine’s path. as she asked, you follow her lead and do the same. you can now see the path that the machine will take if left undisturbed–which won’t be for long. she crouches back down and looks at you, giving you a look to let you know that it is time to press on. 

she moves to a patch of grass right next to the machine’s track. you follow along, quiet and prepared, with your bow in hand and an arrow at the ready. aloy taps her focus once more and assesses the machine. you assume that she is highlighting vulnerable parts of the sawtooth–an act that you do as well. you note that you probably shouldn’t use fire arrows at this distance on its blaze canister. thankfully, you only have standard arrows. shooting the body will be your best bet with this machine.

with her bow and arrow in hand, aloy begins to aim at the sawtooth. its back is now facing the two of you, so it is a better time than any to attack. you ready your own weapon, aiming for its legs. you think you could slow it down if you get the right shot in. 

aloy turns to you once more, mouthing the words, “ready?” 

you nod in response, which aloy follows up with shooting her first shot at the sawtooth. the machine turns around with a quickness, looking directly at the two of you. your cover is now blown, so you must be on guard and ready to dodge. the predestined path no longer matters. 

the machine lets out a deep growl before sprinting towards you. aloy rolls to the left while you roll to the right. the sawtooth follows aloy, who manages to evade its melee attacks each time. she swings her spear here and there but ultimately moves to get some distance between the two so that she can use her bow. you follow behind the machine, shooting arrows into its back. you wager that the machine only has a quarter health left, but is definitely putting up a fight.

aloy shoots her own arrows into the machine while in a state of constant movement. you admire that she can be so steady with a bow despite being in motion. you note this to document later in case you ever encounter a sawtooth again. she’d have to teach you how she does it, but it was no doubt contributed to by rost’s training. 

you shoot the final arrow into the beast, causing it to fall in defeat. it causes you to get all giddy because it is your first machine kill. aloy runs to you, smiling. she pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead.

“you did great,” she tells you once she pulls away. “i’m very proud of you.”

“thank you,” you smile. “i have to go grab my journal! i’ll be right back.”

with that, you leave aloy’s embrace to go to your sack behind the original rock as she goes to the machine to start scraping it for parts for both of you. you reach the rock and kneel, picking up your bag to rummage through. as your hand searches for the journal, you sense that you’re not alone.

you turn behind you to hear a loud noise and witness a blinding flash. you quickly stand up and reach your arms out in front of you, trying to gain your sight back. you hear your name being called but still cannot see a thing. you walk forward a bit, only to be thrown back as the machine strikes you. you feel your body hit the rock hard as your sight somewhat comes back in time to see an arrow pierce the machine’s big eye. aloy follows soon after.

“my love!” she shouts, immediately crouching by your side. “i’m so sorry i wasn’t here.”

her hands roam across your apparent injuries. all you feel is pain in your head and abdomen. you look up at your girlfriend to see her face full of intense concern. you lift your hand to rub the sweat from your forehead so it doesn’t get in your eye, but upon glancing at said hand, you see bright red blood. within the next few moments, everything gets blurry, and your head feels light. aloy mutters a string of concerns as you fall back in her arms, barely able to keep your eyes open.

your eyes flutter open a few hours later, and your vision is clear again. your head is still pounding, but the spots you saw are no more. you sit yourself up on your elbows, looking around at your surroundings and being unable to tell where you are. you do spot a campfire and your flame-haired girlfriend stirring something over it. 

“aloy?” you question, rubbing your eyes as you sit up even more. 

she turns around quickly, the edges of her mouth turning up at the sound of your voice. “my love, how are you feeling?”

“my head is killing me.”

“it will. you hit it pretty hard,” she gets up from her spot and comes to kneel by your side. “i’m so sorry again. i should’ve protected you.”

you place a kiss on her forehead. it wasn’t her fault, and you assure her of that. you glance down at your abdomen, where a sharp pain lingers. you notice some stitching. 

“i had to stitch you up. you were bleeding pretty badly. your forehead, too.”

“oh, aloy,” you say, a note of concern in your own voice. “i’m the one who should be sorry. i didn’t mean to put you through that.”

she takes your hand in her own and kisses it, shaking her head. she is just relieved that you’re awake and able to talk to her. it was a very lonely few hours.

“get some rest, please? i won’t let anything more happen to you.” she kisses your forehead this time and then your cheeks. “i am so glad you’re okay.”

“i don’t suppose you’d let me join you hunting again, huh?” you joke.

her hand squeezes yours tighter. “we’ll see.”

you lay back on the makeshift bed she created for you and let your eyes close for a few more minutes. the smell of whatever aloy is cooking is in the air. not only could you not wait to eat something, but you also couldn’t wait to be back home in your comfy bed, wrapped in the arms of your lover. you open your eyes once more to admire her. you feel very lucky to have her. 

[lapetiteseductress]

My Glow Up Game

Lately I haven't been feeling really inspired about my journey to becoming her so I decided to revisit and rework it. I chose several different areas that I want to work on and I only listed goals that I could achieve now or within the next month (or 2 at the most).

The areas I will be focusing on:

Skin Care - my target area will be my ENTIRE BODY 😂 but mainly focusing on hyperpigmentation, fine lines under the eyes (thank you ordinary eye serum 😒), textured skin and smaller pores. My goals will include buying products from Ulta/Sephora, doing my skincare routine 2x a day and implementing a few DIY treatments like a turmeric mask.

Grooming - major focus will be on hair removal and nails. for hair removal i will be switching to waxing and sugaring. the goal is to start visiting a sugaring salon for certain areas of my body that's more difficult for me to wax (like underarms). for everything else, i will be doing waxing at home.

for nails, i was doing polygel but i'm over it lol. i'm tempted to start going to the salon for this as well but all the salons i've found in my city are those cookie cutter type salons (ya'll know what i'm talking about) that charge $100+ for thick nails (that's apparently still trending here) and the quality of the work - i can almost match it so i don't find it worth the price. instead i'm going to go all in with gel-x (i've played around with it and brought a few things on amazon to try it out) but i'm gonna level up and get some items from NKK and Erica's ATA drill bits.

Natural Hair/Extensions - focusing on growing out my natural hair (and making it healthier) to prepare it for either micro weft or i-link extensions. the goal here is simple: buy products and create a hair care routine.

Wardrobe - i'm splitting my wardrobe goals into several parts because i have to build an entire wardrobe. but i'm going to start with sleepwear, lingerie and loungewear, plus a few casual summertime pieces.

Bedroom Decor - if you've read my recent posts, you already know that i'm not happy with the state of my bedroom but i've decided not to do too much to it because it's not worth the investment. i do plan on buying a few bedding sets and a few inexpensive furniture pieces (like a nightstand). i also will start buying (or being gifted) flowers to place in my bedroom as well.

Beauty - purchasing basic makeup and essentials along with mini perfumes until i discover my staple fragrances.

Healthy Food - starting off simple with buying juices (especially green juices), fruits and veggies, eating salads, and healthy frozen meals.

Exercise - focusing on lower body workouts, improving flexibility, continuing pilates, buying cute workout fits.

Courtesan/Hypergamy - i didn't quite know what to call this area of focus but it will consist of listening to affirmations that fit the theme of being spoiled, attracting high value men, etc. also reading books on seduction, bdsm, etc and of course, practicing these techniques on men [online]- specifically receiving gifts and money from them.

Intellect - reading 1 book or 1 workbook (like the vocabulary book i'm currently going through). i already listen to the news so i'm pretty much on top of current events.

And last but certainly not least, keeping God first throughout all of this. 🙏🏾

and if sounds as if i'm basically rebuilding my life, that's because i am.

[womanofwords]

Voice Changer

Villain grinned at the captive she'd taken. Admittedly, she'd been trying to get to Hero, but Scientist was still a pretty good score. Scientist was useful and respected, and she should be able to put them to work on something she can use to dominate the world! "So," Villain said, "ready to have your intellect used for evil, Scientist?"

"You're going to regret doing this," Scientist said.

"HA! I highly doubt that!" Villain laughed. She had been working hard on that laugh. "All you heroes spew the same four lines, and they're always wrong! Besides, why would anybody regret being truly in charge of the entire world?"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Scientist said. "I mean the part where you're kidnapping me and stuff. You're going to fail miserably and in spectacular fashion."

"Silence! I'm evil and you work for me now!" Villain grabbed the nearest thing to her to threaten Scientist with, but the closest thing she had was a letter opener. Still sharp, though. "Or you'll get cut with this! You'll never be able to face a mirror ever again once I'm done with you!"

Scientist's eyes grew wide with terror. Good; she'd struck fear into them. "OK. I'll do as you ask. Please don't hurt me!"

Villain smirked. "Good. Now, I have a voice changer I need you to repair. Currently, it won't let me say anything at all and completely mutes me."

"What voice do you want? And why do you want to change your voice at all?"

Villain groaned, rolling her eyes. "Can't you hear me, you little weasel? My real voice is too high-pitched for anybody to take seriously. That's why I want you to fix my voice changer."

"OK." Scientist smiled.

"There's a good little nerd." Villain tossed the voice changer at Scientist. "Have fun fixing it up! I'm going to be unforgettable while making my demands of the world!"

"I certainly will," Scientist muttered.

(PAUSE)

Scientist handed over the voice changer to Villain, looking down at the floor. "There's a good little scientist, listening to me so well," Villain mocked. "My demands will be happening in a few minutes, and I can't have you making noise in the background."

"OK. I'll make myself scarce," Scientist said.

"I've got a much better solution," Villain remarked, approaching Scientist with chains.

"You don't need to do this! I said I'd make myself scarce!"

"A good villain is prepared for anything, including runaway hostages," Villain said, as she pounced on her captive. Scientist was taller than Villain, but not stronger, and Villain overpowered them and wrapped their body in chains.

Villain smoothed out her clothes and wiped her face before her big appearance. She had to be looking perfect for her big day terrifying the idiotic little heroes. She put on her voice changer, turned on her camera and began to talk.

"Greetings, future subjects!" she laughed. "Meet your future leader, Villain! As you can see with your feeble eyes, I have already captured Scientist and he is right over - what?"

Scientist was gone. The chains were left behind in a coiled heap. An emergency parachute that she kept on hand was also missing. "HOW DID THEY ESCAPE FROM THAT?!" Her eye began to twitch, and she got back to talking. "Never mind. I got everything I need from him anyway. Now, onto my demands. I will need millions of dollars into the bank account I have set up for this very occasion, or - DAMMIT!"

The voice changer Scientist had 'fixed' was nowhere near as fixed as they said, much to Villain's humiliation. Villain hadn't noticed until it was too late, but the voice modulator had made her voice even more high-pitched than it was normally. It sounded like the safety of the world was being threatened by the leader of the Lollipop Guild!

"What the hell? What's happening to my voice changer?" Her voice, normally only slightly high-pitched, now sounded like she'd inhaled helium before filming herself. "No, no, no! This can't be happening right now! I'm supposed to be plotting world takeover! OK, I'll kidnap a different scientist and get them to fix the voice changer. Hopefully nobody has seen this . . . embarrassing failure." She went to turn off the camera, only to notice a little indicator that made her heart fall out of her behind.

She was recording live.

And she had over 500,000 viewers.

Villain groaned as the mocking comments came flooding in. She was going to be the laughingstock of the villain community.

Supervillain was never going to let her hear the end of this once he found out.