#i have no idea how tags work on this app

[satellitestarry]

back on tumblr for the first time in forever and remembering Little Rock two years ago ☹️

[kingbeeleth]

a while back i started working on recreating a certain pokemon card art by hitoshi ariga so there could be a higher quality version of it and i just finished it today. it’s not perfect but i think i did a pretty good job

original under cut

there are some weird effects and artifacts from the way i upscaled it, but it doesn’t particularly matter since it isn’t really reflected in the recreation

[highsuspicionofautism]

On the border of the circle

[cream-and-tea]

i love love looooove doing whatever tf i want with structure in lay me down BEYOND belief. have just decided that chapter eleven is basically a romcom montage except it’s set in the evil apocalypse library and also there’s no romance and it also uhhhhhhh makes me want to cry ❤️

[just-slightly-chayotic]

there should be a whole science behind what counts as a jeff caused injury. because let's say i slipped on the pavement and fell (completely fictional scenario. definitely did not happen 10 minutes ago)

does it count as a jeff caused injury if i was listening to jeff's songs? i do get distracted when listening to him

what about if i was just thinking about him? then i'm definitely distracted but does it count as the cause?

if the first two don't count separately then what about if i was both listening and thinking about jeff? do they add up to a full cause?

[seagullcharmer]

just realised that my current design for my lorule swamp people is basically just. the people of lurelin.

[lollybliz]

@phoenixislost I Could Not leave you with nothing after that beautiful excruciating surprise!

I don't draw much, and I honestly don't know what in doing most of the time, but I had Such a vivid image in my head the first time you brought up the hair pin. I'm pretty sure this isn't accurate to what you had in mind-- it's a comb, instead of a clip, for starters fhfjskskdn BUT this is what I thought of! So! *chucks this at you from across the room* have at it!

(Please god click on it for quality, tumblr turns things to mud fgdjskdhd)

[opal-feathers]

Okay, so I still don't know how to use tumblr, but it's 5:30 in the morning here, I'm running on about 3 hours of sleep, and really want to ramble about an AvA au idea I've had so!!!

Okay! So! First off, excuse my grammar in this if it's bad. Like I said, I'm running on roughly 3 hours of sleep and relying on what my phone says grammar should look like

ANYWAYS! So basically, my idea when making the au was "hey what if I took this one part of the story that I can relate to my own issues and made it the main plotpoint for an au" and so now I have what I've been calling the forgotten au, an au in which The Chosen One never escaped being an adblocker, and ended up forgotten on Alan's old computer when he upgraded to a new one. This means no Dark Lord, but TSC and the rest of the colorgang are still around, and AvM is mostly unchanged (at least for now)

I don't really have a story in mind yet, just the idea of Cho talking to anons and thinking he's finally lost it from how long he's been stuck in Alan's old computer, and also a thought of him being somehow saved by the colorgang and there'd be like a lot of angst and fluff and yeah that's about it

Also, the Chosen One and The Second Coming are brothers in this au because I really like the idea of the stick figures Alan canonically drew all being siblings

[fratboycipher]

obligatory welcome guide for redditors

A lot of the guides I've seen don't actually seem to understand how reddit works in comparison to tumblr so

your blog is basically your own small subreddit. some people curate this heavily to fit a theme, like a sub, most people don't

reblogs are culturally equivilant to upvotes but functionally equvilant to crossposting

there is an algorithm. it sucks and nobody uses it. turn it off in settings. everything is generally chronological

likes are functionally equivilant to saving a post

you've probably already seen this but change your icon and put something in your bio or people WILL assume you're a bot. personal info not required

generally, anything you would put as a comment on a thread should go in the tags or the replies of a post. only add comments in reblogs if you want it to become part of the base post

tags are mostly equivilant to flairs, used for organization and commentary

your dashboard is an aggregation of everyone you follow

there is an r/all equivilant(trending page) but it sucks and nobody uses it

our search also sucks. your best bet is using tumblr.com/tagged/[TAG] and not /search

there are no mods

by extension, reporting something doesn't put it in front of the mods, it sends it to staff, who may or may not do anything(usually they don't)

there is no karma, there are no karma limits. anyone can reblog anything, comment/reply to anything, or post in any tag

"reposting"(reblogging) old content doesn't matter. people can and will reblog the same post multiple times, including in a row

CAVEAT. reposting someones art(NOT reblogging, making a new post) is a dick move. i know this is commonplace on fandom subs but its not necessary here. everything you post should be [OC] unless you are reblogging. or posting shitty memes

we have our own sitelore, you'll pick it up

(though im not opposed to bringing some over from reddit)

our app also sucks. we do not have third party apps and any that claim to be are scams. sorry

for desktop, most people use the XKit Rewritten extension for QoL improvements and to revert shitty aesthetic updates, much like old.reddit

we have no idea where the porn rules are at either. add a mature content flag to anything you'd get fired for looking at at work, that's about it

finally, from the bottom of my heart, fuck u/spez

[thecherrygod]

man if youve never made a pdf on your phone and have no idea how it works you cant get mad if you ask others if they know how to and they say "it depends".

[corpsecxnt]

frustrated screaming and crying when the ~techniques~ i literally STUDIED and TAUGHT how to use still don't fucking work for me

[lyralit]

3.1.24 - writing resources for the new year

isn't lovely to feel like you have the opportunity to start fresh again? here are some fo the resources I'm using going into the new year!

flocus is a pomodoro app with pretty backgrounds, availability to be customized, and it also tracks your productivity streaks, which is definitely a motivational booster

in addition to this, flocus' newsletter, the flow, is a weekly email on how to be more productive! it's one of the things I like to tuck away in my inbox and read.

calmly is a blank page. all you need to do is bring the words.

medium doesn't necessarily focus on creative writing, but it's an interesting place to find similarly interested people and all kinds of articles

characterhub is a website community that promotes interaction among OCs (and is great for artists also!)

poetry foundation has an enormous collection of writing that's great to read for fun, or inspiration, or if you're in a slump

and not necessarily writing related, but here are other things that I've been trying out:

via li's youtube channel. something about it radiates warmth and I listen to her videos like podcasts.

baking! it's so comforting and I love seeing the results. smitten kitchen has the best recipes.

also knitting. not necessarily specific sites, but I have these ideas of all the things I want to make.

and that's all for now. however I did up my wordcount! I hit 15k today, so hopefully by next monday I'll have everything I need done. I'm working on deadlines for the first time for a project, and I can definitely feel the pressure.

tag any other websites below and I'll be sure to reblog them!

k.

[glitterquadricorn]

spilled tea and hot gossip - f1 grid

+summary: there's nothing she loves more than spilled tea and hot gossip. +pairing: f1 grid x female!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions pregnancy, gossip.

a/n: this is just an idea that popped into my head.

I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

Any drama, gossip, or tea that is spilled on a formula one paddock, you best believe she's going to know about it because she's got eyes and ears everywhere. Like for example, the whole situation with Oscar, Daniel and Mclaren. Or how Fernando signed with Aston Martin and didn't tell anyone much less Alpine. Pierre wonders where, or who she's getting this information from, but she'd never reveal her source for they wish to remain anonymous.

"Thanks so much for helping, y/n. You've made our job a lot easier," Jon, a member of her pit crew, smiled and tapped her shoulder.

"I'm always happy to help!" she said. " Do you guys need anything else? If not, I'm going to head out."

"We should be all good to go. Again, thanks for the help."

"You guys have a good day!" she left out the back of the garage and walked down a relatively empty paddock with the exception of other teams' staff here and there.

She was almost at the entrance when from the corner of her eye; she spotted a man wearing a black and red Haas shirt. Whoever he was talking to she didn't know, and it wasn't her business. But what he told to said person on the phone shocked her.

"I messed up, man. I shouldn't have even slept with her," the man paused, running his hand down his face. "Oh, the girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. But that's not even the worst part of it. She's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

The sound that came out of her mouth wasn't human, and she quickly had to pretend she saw something shocking on her phone because the man looked in her direction. Man, she couldn't wait to tell the boys.

The following day after scanning her id, she strutted down the paddock like a woman on a mission.

Spotting the dutchman, who conveniently was standing with Daniel, Charles and Pierre outside the redbull garage, she excitedly walked right over. "You'll never guess what I heard yesterday."

"Judging by your excitement, I assume it's something juicy." Pierre replied. Just by the excitement alone, he knew that whatever she was about to say was going to be good.

"Yesterday, I stayed back after qualifying to help my pit crew clean up and put things away. When I was done, I left and walked down a relatively empty paddock, but stopped when I overheard somebody from Haas talking on the phone. I don't know who he was talking to, because it's not relevant, but what is, is what he told them."

"Get to the point, y/n."

"I was getting there, Max," she paused. "He told them he slept with a girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. That alone is pretty juicy, but what he followed it up with had my jaw on the floor. And he followed it up with and she's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

Gasps leave their mouth as their jaws drop just like hers did from the day before. Behind Charles, her pr manager, Tracy, waved her over.

"Enjoy the tea, boys." she smirked, patted Charles on the shoulder as she walked away.

---

I know Visa Cash App RB team name isn't Alpha Tauri anymore, but I hate the name Visa Cash App RB with a passion.

tagging:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyber @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119

[f1fnatic]

BUT I THOUGHT SHE WAS UNFAITHFUL? ⤿ d. ricciardo 3

→ ( in which. . . ) you star in a movie as the lead actress. in said movie, you date your co-star. the fans of your boyfriend don't like the idea, so they spread rumors in response to you and your co-stars friendship. but, little do they know, it's not you they should be worried about.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) social media au

→ ( face claim. . . ) sydney sweeney

→ ( pairing. . . ) daniel ricciardo x actress!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) rumors of cheating, eventual cheating, cyber bullying, language, toxic fans

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was sitting in my drafts for so very long and i just finished it in class, i am so happy i am able to post something after such a long hiatus. I hope you enjoy! see end for more

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nnnn

liked by glenpowell, danielricciardo, alexademie, lewishamilton and 3,126,731 others

tagged: glenpowell, sonypictures, and anyonebutyoumovie

happy to announce that anyone but you in theaters NOW! go watch it >:)

view 865,729 comments

y/nlover ugh cannot wait to watch!

alexademie pretty pretty girl

y/nnnn all you lexie :(

danielricciardo so unbelievably proud of you roo ❤️

y/nnnn thank you badger ☹️

glenpowell such an honor to work with you!

y/nnnn i can say the same!

y/nhater don't you think that her and glen are too close to be co-stars?

y/nhater2 i'm thinking the same thing there's no way she didn't cheat

y/nfan wtf are u talking ab? y/n would NOT do that to danny they are happy together

lewishamilton free tickets 👀

landonorris 👀

maxverstappen1 👀

charles_leclerc 👀

y/nnnn sonypictures what do you think?

sonypictures I'm sure we can work something out.

danielricciardo

liked by y/nnnn, glenpowell, landonorris, scottyjames31, and 3,421,874 others

tagged: y/nnnn

words cannot express how proud i am of you, my love. you have poured so much blood, sweat, and tears into this movie. i know it has been hard, especially the long shoot hours, the frantic facetimes in between scenes can vouch for that and so can the texts. i will definitely miss the on-set pictures/updates.

i love you so much y/n. i don't know how i could be any prouder. p.s. i better get a private showing if you know what i mean 😉

view 831,341 comments

landonorris gross there are children on this app

hunterschafer cutie pies

zendaya is that blond single?

danielricciardo not atm no get in line

y/nnnn danny be nice.

danielricciardo sry love 🫡

y/nfan LMAO

georgerussell63 get a room 🤮

drlover she is such a slut

alexademie actual goals

y/nnnn awe danny i love you too

y/nnnn definitely NOT crying right now!!!

lewishamilton she is lying she facetimed me SOBBING

y/nnn i called you in CONFIDENCE. CONFIDENCE LEWIS.

y/nnnn you are the sweetest, most supportive person i have ever met. i could not have gotten through this without you ❤

danielricciardo there is no one else i rather support ❤

y/ndanny they are meant for each other

y/nhater what a fucking whore

y/ndanny2 the best couple

─ TWITTER ↴

─ IMESSAGE ↴

─ TWITTER ↴

imessage ↴

—————————————————————

Unknown Contact i stole ur mans 😜

—————————————————————

lexieee 😚 i am so so sorry my love, he didnt deserve you ❤️

—————————————————————

Lando Norris He treated you like shit anyways

—————————————————————

alrighty, finished! thank you so much for reading, so sorry for the radio silence, ive been super unmotivated and consumed with school 💔 anyways, requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

[abbyshands]

for you

🇵🇸 LINKS | before engaging !!! | m. list | join my tag list!

♡ synopsis; making a home out of catalina island for years on end had been wonderful, but for most of it, you had been derived of the last piece of the puzzle: abigail anderson. you were a skilled medic, so when abby had showed up, you had cared for her, and nursed her back to the girl she was, helping her to heal, and to find home the same way you had. now, it’s abby’s chance to return the favor.

♡ pairing; abby anderson x fem!reader

♡ warnings; lot of game references, some of which include infected, the WLF, plot of the first and second game, loss, violence, etc, general angst (ish) in the beginning, but fluffy at the end, i promise, reader loses her dad in the backstory, and there’s a heavily established backstory for the reader, abby uses nicknames (my love, babe, gorgeous), reader calls abby baby, just general angst n’ fluff tbh!

♡ a/n; sooo this idea has been sitting in my notes app for the longest time, and to be honest, i’m not sure how i feel about the finished product! i don’t think it’s my best work? i don’t know. i like the idea but i’m unsure about the way i executed it. maybe i’ll revisit it at some point, but this is what i’ve got for now ♡

anyway ,, this is for my ray, n’ my ray only. happy bday, gorgeous! i genuinely can’t get enough of you, and getting to speak to you on a daily basis is such a fucking privilege to me. i’m so lucky to say you’re a part of my life, n’ i wouldn’t trade you for the world. i hope you like this, @andersonlore <3

♡ wc; 4.5k

divider creds !

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS. APOCALYPSE.

If someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, you would’ve checked them for a bite mark.

Because they would have been losing their mind.

2034, and all the years beforehand, were years unforgettable. The person you were couldn’t imagine a life that wasn’t the one you had. Infected roamed, and danger lurked. But love prevailed.

And you were lucky to be a part of it.

You were born in Boston, Massachusetts in the 2010’s at an unlucky hour. To an unlucky life. You had lost your mom before you could say your own name, and the only biological family you had ever gotten to know in your life was your dad, who was the reason you were where you were today in the first place.

When you were young, your dad joined a group once asked to by the leader of it, a woman named Marlene. Since then, and for as long as you could remember, this group has been your place to call home.

They called themselves the Fireflies for the very bug they took the name from: Their goal was to spread luminescence in a world full of darkness. Your dad, who was an incredibly skilled medic, was roped into it when you were younger, for that very reason. And because of the group’s dire need for medics at the time, their leader, Marlene, who was an old friend of your dad’s, asked him to join, all but begged him to, really.

Your dad wasn’t one to deny anyone in need. It was in his nature, and it was why he was such a great medic. So, of course, he agreed.

But only if there would be a place for you, too.

Your dad raised you up as a member of the Fireflies, and then later as a medic, and it was because of him that you were who you were: A resilient individual, a survivor, and yet, a person who embodied compassion, just as he did.

The years went by hazily, the older you got, anyway. You became just as immersed into your work as your dad did, bettering your medical knowledge on a daily basis, be it by old books, rusted cassettes, or your dad himself. But all the while, you managed to balance work, love, and family, and, in a world like this one, that was a lot more than most people could say.

For obvious reasons, you couldn’t remember the 2010’s. Then came the 2020’s, which sped by your eyes. But the 2030’s as a general consensus were years ingrained into your brain. Full of friendship, family, and love? At times. But they also encompassed chaos, despair, and pressure, and changed your life forever.

And forever was a long time.

In the year 2033, all that you believed was true about the world as you knew it, crumbled to the ground. In a land following an apocalypse, it wasn’t uncommon to feel as if there was no way out, as if the life you lived had hit a place of no return.

Now, if only there was a way to fix it. A cure, right?

It was late one evening while you were working on somebody in the Fireflies’ medical center, that Marlene came into the room, expression serious, and voice showing for it. Once you had the person you had been caring for under control, you followed Marlene out of the center, and into a room of a pair of people, one familiar, and one not.

Your dad, and a man who would later become a crucial figure in this tale: Surgical expert, Doctor Jerry Anderson.

You didn’t understand what Marlene, your dad, and Mr. Anderson, as you used to call him, were getting at when you were first pulled into that room. All that they were explaining to you was blurring inside of your head.

Because it was unlike anything you had heard before.

Your ears were told a tale that you had heard on numerous occasions. A girl who was only a few years younger than you, was bitten. You weren’t sure how. But it didn’t really matter, did it? Everyone who was bitten turned into an animal in a matter of days. It didn’t matter how she had gotten the bite mark. It didn’t even matter where on her body the mark was. All you knew was that in a few days, this girl that was being described to you, would no longer be human. That she would no longer have control over her body, and she would no longer know right from wrong, up from down, man from woman. All she would know, was kill. Kill. Kill.

Unless she was one in a million.

Ellie Williams was hardly a human in your mind when you originally heard, but a God given chance, to fix the world as you knew it. You never believed you would live to see the day where a bite mark was a good thing, and yet, it was here, gazing you in the eyes.

Immunity. She was immune. The auburn haired girl had been bitten three weeks prior to the date you heard about this, and zilch. As Marlene had explained to you, it was like the mark was healing, not worsening. 

And in a desolate world, where danger lurked every corner, where sorrow was normalized, and where loss was ceaseless, you were desperate. The Fireflies were desperate. Hope like this didn’t come on a daily basis, now, did it?

You jumped on the prospect as soon as you became conscious of it. All of you did.

Graciously unaware that it would blow up in your face.

In the earlier days of 2034, Ellie was smuggled to a Firefly base in Salt Lake City, a medical center, where your dad, Mr. Anderson, and several Fireflies were residing. As head medic by this point, you decided to remain in Boston caring for the members of your group back home, especially in the absence of your dad and Mr. Anderson.

It’s your life’s biggest regret.

Marlene had asked that you come to the Salt Lake City medical center as soon as you could, and to employ someone else to take over for a bit. Mr. Anderson was a good doctor, but he had decided that to perform proper surgery on Ellie, he would need a few more hands. You were honored that it was you he had chosen. To you, it was on the same level as getting an award. And so, alongside Marlene, and a few more members of the group, you made your way to Salt Lake City, your hopes in your hands, and dreams in your heart.

There was a point during the journey, however, where you ran into some trouble. Infected. And naturally, you were not just a medic: You knew how to survive in a world like this, and you knew how to hold your ground.

Splitting up wasn’t usually recommended when it came to any scenario, and for good reasons. However, it was your only choice. You and everyone beside you aside from Marlene, split up to make sure that she was the first one to make it to the medical center. You remember the last thing you said to her like a movie on loop in your head. See you soon.

And it plagues your brain like the virus that grips your world.

See you soon. You wish you had never said it. You wish you had never split up.

You wish it hadn’t happened.

You did see Marlene. But she was no longer alive when it happened. Fear grasped your bones as your body paralyzed, eyes glued to Marlene’s bloody corpse on the second floor of the medical center’s parking garage.

Tears filled your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And then, you remembered.

Dad.

You took off running, brain not even processing that you could be putting yourself in danger by doing so. Whoever had done this to Marlene couldn’t be faraway from the building for all you knew. Hell, they could even be in it. But you didn’t care.

You booked it to the highest floor, where your dad and Mr. Anderson were supposed to be, heart racing, begging and bargaining to the universe, or whatever God there was, or somebody, to ensure that they were okay. That they were just fine.

There are some days where you wish you hadn’t opened that door.

The pair of them, alongside a third medic in the room, were found by you in a shape similar to Marlene. Naturally, you ran to dad first, small, shaky hands reaching out to flip over his face down body.

But you were too late.

Your mind goes blurry whenever it goes back to recall the memory. You don’t remember much: Tears, nausea, shaking, panic. You remember screaming, loudly, at that.

And you remember passing out, before being pulled out of the room.

The second that Jerry Anderson was announced dead, all hell broke loose, and you knew, you knew, it was over. The chance that had been driving you and your family of Fireflies for the last year, was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. Unless a brand new surgeon was going to generously drop from the sky, you were hopeless. 

And it wasn’t even just that.

Because the universe had taken from you the one person you held closest to your heart. To your soul.

Dad.

You had a chance. You all did. 

And, then, it was robbed away from you.

You and your dying group made your way back to Boston knowing just that: That you were collapsing. The days passed by in blurs, each one gloomier than the last. You just weren’t sure what to do anymore. All hope for a cure was gone. All hope for yourself was gone.

In 2036, the Fireflies were disbanded by what little members of it were around to do so, and that was it. It was over. 

Your home was paradise, and paradise was gone.

You didn’t know what to do. Most of the family you had found here in the Fireflies was leaving, searching for a life away from the one you all had known for years. You didn’t know if you wanted to do the same. Part of you wanted to follow suit and leave Boston. Renew who you were. Adapt, and move on. But Boston had always been home, and by leaving it, you were leaving a part of you behind.

But you didn’t have a choice.

It was an early morning in 2036 when you began to pack your bags, readying to go. Where? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that home or not, Boston carried way too many painful memories, way more than you could bear. Marlene was dead. Mr. Anderson was dead. Dad was gone.

You didn’t see what else Boston had to give, that it hadn’t already taken away.

But just, just, when you were about to say your goodbyes, the universe, who had screwed you over in the past, clearly had different plans.

A few members had heard word, from previous members who had left the Fireflies before you, that on the west coast of the country, there was a chance: A chance to find home again, in a place named Catalina Island, a gorgeous land in California.

Risks had failed you before, and so had second chances. But, for once, you wanted to give in. You had to.

So you did.

That’s not to say that the second you got to Catalina Island, finding home once again in your fellow Fireflies, who were just as shattered as you were, that your tale was over. God, it was really, really far from it.

Because there was one more piece to the puzzle.

Abigail Anderson.

Anderson. The last name rang a bell once it escaped her lips. A blonde woman, body bruised, bloodied, and covered from the arms down in oozing gashes. Her hair was short and poorly cut, and from the way her bones were pushing into her skin, you could tell that she was severely malnourished.

Alongside her was a boy, obviously younger than her. Tousled black hair, bruises wherever you looked, and fully unconscious. In your time at Catalina Island, and as a Firefly in Boston, for that matter, you had never seen any pair of people in worse shape.

Not unless they were dead.

You remained head medic once you arrived in Catalina Island, naturally, and you had been managing that way for the last four years. So, when this woman showed up, this young boy by her side, like this, it was you who took control. It was you who nursed them, and it was you who made their scars, in a physical and mental sense, not disappear, but easier to handle. To bear.

By looking at them, by looking at her, it was like a mirror. You saw you.

Which is why you saw her.

Now, if someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, losing your dad, losing Marlene, and losing Mr. Anderson, but falling for his child, you would’ve looked for a bite mark. But now, come the year 2040, where you had made a new life, one that Abigail Anderson was a prevalent part of, happiness no longer seemed impossible.

Because it wasn’t far away anymore, slipping from your fingers, the way it had on numerous occasions. 

It was in your hands.

And you were in Abby’s.

Your eyes were being covered by Abby’s large hands as she led you to a place unknown. You had to assume it was one of the several beaches on the island, sand under your feet, sounds of waves in your ears. A smile had been plastered across your face for what seemed like hours, as Abby dragged you along.

“Come on, Abby. Are you going to tell me what this is about or what?” you asked her for the second time in the last minute. You could hear her low chuckle from behind you, and the way it always happens, comfort surges into your veins.

You had learned from Abby, once you bonded over the mutual loss of your dad and hers at the same man, that once Mr. Anderson had been killed, her and her friends, a few former members of the Fireflies, joined a group named the WLF. You had hence learned that during her time there, she was commonly known as a rugged, scary person, who a lot of people in the WLF didn’t dare insult, nor disobey.

And you couldn’t lie: It was hard to believe that for a second.

You had learned from Abby, also, that her resolve began to slip when she met the young boy who she had made it to Catalina Island alongside, who you had also taken care of: Lev. To put it simply, Lev was a member of a different group, that the WLF was never supposed to come across.

Not unless it was in war.

But he changed her. He did. Some days, you could see how guarded Abby was, how she couldn’t help going back to all she used to know, which was being all but barbaric when she was in Seattle. Closed off, wary. But most days, like today? You knew in your heart, that deep down in hers, Abby Anderson was good. Not innocent, but good.

And that was enough for you.

“Just come on!” Abby chuckled as she walked, not letting up her hold on your eyes for a second as she led you along.

You smiled, shaking your head in mock disapproval. “I have work to do back at the center, and we’re not supposed to be roaming around like this. You know that, right?”

“Babe,” Abby responded in an almost firm tone of voice as her feet quit moving, forcing you to root your body to the spot. It was silent, before she pressed a series of sweet, sloppy kisses to your neck and cheeks, managing to keep her hand over your eyes all the while. She had you crumbling just like that, making you a giggling mess as her lips met your skin.

Her kisses subsided once a million of them seeped into you, and it wasn’t the island heat that had your face warm when Abby was done. “Can you just trust me, please?” she laughed, and you didn’t need your vision to know she was giving you that puppy dog look that had you falling to your knees every time. The one that you couldn’t resist if you gave it your all.

You were too easy. “Yes.”

It wasn’t long before you and Abby reached where she wanted to bring you, and once you did, she paused. She was perched behind you now, large hands over your face, the solacing sound of her sighs coming into your ears. “Okay. Are you ready, my love?”

There wouldn't ever be a day where Abby calling you that wouldn’t make your heart pound in your chest.

“More than,” you easily respond.

As soon as you said it, Abby returned your vision to you, and your eyes can’t help but widen at what you see before you.

Because you never pegged “rugged” Abby Anderson as one for picnics.

“Oh, my God, Abby,” you said more to yourself than the blonde as you slowly approached the scene. Laid out on the sand of the beach was a picnic blanket, a folded blanket, a few pillows, a basket, a few books, and playing cards.

Accompanied by a perfect view of the beach.

“Do you not like it?” Abby asked, and there’s an air of sadness to the way she says it. You turn to look at her on cue, your face one of complete, utter disbelief.

Like it?

“Like it? Baby, I love this. More than know,” you respond, meaning every word. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to care for you. A long, long time, since you had been the receiver, not the giver.

“Abs, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You can see Abby blushing as you approach her and take her face into your hands, her freckled skin burning in heat. She leans into your touch, pressing her forehead onto yours, and holding your hands in her own.

“I just,” Abby sighed, opening her eyes once more to meet yours, solemn expression across her cheeks. “I just don’t feel like I cherish you enough, babe, show it, that is. Because believe me, I do cherish you. S’just, it’s been hard for me to show you how much. All that you did for me and Lev when we got to the island. Taking care of us. Helping us find a home here. I’ll spend the rest of my life saying thank you for it.”

You can feel your soul healing the more Abby speaks.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough to make up for what you did for us, and I wish it was. But I just figured, maybe. . .it could suffice for now.”

“Abby, baby,” you let a small laugh escape your lips as you say it. “You don’t have to make it up to me. At all. I did what I did, because I saw someone in you. I remember asking for your name, and you responded by asking me where Lev was. You didn’t even care what shape you were in. All you wanted to know was if he was okay. You reminded me of me.”

“You reminded me of dad.”

You couldn’t help but sigh, letting silence seep into the air around you as your brain battled to process what you had just said. You didn’t speak on your dad as much as you likely should: Abby knew that, and so did you. Talking about him made your chest compress, and your throat would fail you, making it feel as if you were choking. As if you were helpless. As if you were there all over again. But Abby knew as well as you did, that when your dad came into discussion, it was for a certain reason. 

And for that reason, Abby didn’t speak: She hung fire. For you. For you.

“We live in a world where people combat their own morals just to survive. There’s no good guys. No principles, no rules, no laws. Anyone you come across is just as bad as you, and if not, they’re worse. But when I saw you? I knew. I knew that wasn’t you. Not anymore.”

You know you’re rambling by now, saying whatever comes to mind as soon as it does, but you can’t find it in you to care as you go on. “You want to believe I don’t know how much you care for me. But you don’t need to show it, Abby. I know you do. Right here.”

You take one of Abby’s large hands into yours, and as cliché as it is, not that you care at all, you place it over your heart.

“You feel that, don’t you? That’s all for you, baby. And it’s there that I feel how much you care about me. It’s there that I know.”

The same silence that was here before comes back. But this time, it’s not sad, or dark, or eerie. It’s solacing. It’s warm. It’s home.

And Abby doesn’t need words in order to respond.

It’s her turn to take your face into her hands as she pulls you in close. Her lips meet yours like they have so many times before, her familiar scent hitting your nose as you settle your hands onto her hips. The kiss is slow, and sweet, but passionate, and a burning desire surges inside you to never let her go, to always hold her close. To always call her yours.

You pull back from the kiss once you tire from it, gasping, Abby’s body mimicking yours as she does the same. You gaze into her eyes, the pretty blue ones that always make your heart swell, smiling up at her as you press one last kiss to her lips for good measure. “I adore you, Abby Anderson. You know that, right?” you grin.

It’s the first time you ever hear her giggle. “Me more than you, gorgeous.”

You spend hours there alongside Abby, and it’s the best time of your life. You spend time indulging in a few snacks the blonde packed for you, playing cards, and running around and playing in the sand, smiling all the way. You even get to hear Abby read to you, one of the most endearing things in the world, accompanied by the calming sound of the ocean before you. And when it came time for sunset, you sat down beside Abby, gazing on as amber, ochre, and rose faded into night.

It was perfect.

When it was nearly time for the evening to come to an end, you used the second blanket Abby had packed for your shared night to cuddle up beside her, heads rested on the pillows she had carried along as well. The side of your face was pressed into her chest as you gazed into the sky above you, Abby’s hand rubbing your back in slow circles to console you. Small suns coat the evening sky like sweet, powdered sugar, accompanied by a full moon that looks incredible over the horizon. All you could hear was the sound of the ocean, alongside Abby sighing gingerly every once in a while, or her pressing kisses to your forehead.

Not that you needed much more than that.

Suddenly, the sound of Abby chuckling in your ears snaps you out of your head, and you turn your face upwards curiously. Abby’s smile makes you smile, and it’s no surprise you began to wonder what the blonde woman found so funny all of a sudden.

“Remember how I told you Lev and I had to cross those bridges that were really high up?” Abby asked, and you had to raise an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. “Mhm,” you mumble, which is when Abby goes on.

“Well, before that, we had to get there by foot once we got out of the aquarium I told you about, the one I used to go to all of the time. That part of Seattle is overrun in rushing rapids, so a lot of the buildings around there were a lot more demolished than they usually would be anywhere else,” she explained.

“And, well. . .”

“We walked into this building, and there was a painting of these dogs playing cards. And I asked Lev if he knew our dogs could really play cards like that. Then he asked me if anyone found me funny,” Abby laughed. “It cracks me up whenever I remember it.”

She wasn’t the only one laughing. “Sounds like Lev. And like you,” you smile, and the tale makes you recall a humorous memory of your own. “Once, I was working late at the medical center back in Boston. I was doing research on this girl who had been feeling sick, but I wasn’t sure by what. Mind you, it’s late, and silent, if you don’t count me flipping the pages in my books.”

You giggle just remembering it. “It’s the weirdest thing ever, but my dad was really good at making Clicker noises. Like, really good. Sounded so real it made your heart drop. I was reading when I heard it, and I remember wondering how the hell infected had gotten inside. ‘Course I grab what was closest to me, a scalpel, and I swivel around.”

“And it’s dad.”

That one got Abby to burst out chuckling. “Oh, my God. Of all the things you could get, gorgeous. A scalpel?”

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully so. “What can I say? I’m just a medic. I didn’t carry a gun.”

Once Abby’s done laughing, which seems to take forever, she smiles down at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead as if to make up for poking fun at you. You cuddle closer into her, letting your body relax in her embrace as a sigh escapes your lips.

You fall back into silence soon enough, eyes glued to the sky as Abby rubs her hand over your back, holding you like you would fade away if she let you go. You run your fingers through her short hair as you press kisses to her neck, jaw, and face, giving her all the love you know she deserves. Your eyes scan her features like she was molded by some higher power, and you can’t help but want to worship her, endlessly.

Not just for what she looks like. But for who she is.

“My baby. It’s like you were made for me, you know?” you whisper in Abby’s ear as your eyes pierce into her blue ones. But Abby’s head shook quickly.

You can predict what she’s going to say in response. “No, gorgeous.”

“It’s you who was made for me.”

—

reblogs are very much welcomed! <3

—

[starkeyisthelastname]

@rvfecamerons has asked me to write this amazing idea she came up with. I hope this didn’t disappoint. Thank you again babe! 💕💕💕

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

You had never really been much of a troublemaker, always listening to your elders and being respectful to everyone, even those less fortunate than you. After you turned 19, you started to become more independent. Going out to parties, taking trips to the mainland to shop by yourself, and even to her dismay, talking to boys.

Rafe had been the one to suggest getting the AirTag to put in your car. He wanted you to always be safe and to ease her worries, at least that's what he told his wife. The real reason being much darker than that. He had been sickly obsessed with you since the moment he laid eyes on your pretty self. No boy was going to touch you as long as he had control of it, and getting the AirTag installed was just the kind of control he needed.

For the last month, he had been stalking everywhere you went through the handy app on his phone. Even got in his own car and drove by a few places to check and see if the damn thing was working. Your innocent little self didn’t suspect a thing either, which is what made you so naive to the situation.

It had been like any other night. Your mother and you had gone out to dinner while Rafe worked late. She being oblivious to the fact you were texting your guy friend, who had invited you over. She never thought you would actually sneak out, you were too much of a sweetheart to do that. It was much to her surprise though, when your room was empty and car was gone at 1:00 in the morning. She immediately thought of the AirTag, Rafe had installed a moth prior, running back to their shared room.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. To catch you being the little slut he knew you were. The GPS on, he zoomed towards your location until the icy white Mercedes with a bedazzled North Carolina tag came into view. The only car there. He shut the truck off, letting his muscular 6’2 frame stalk towards the door. His usual light blue eyes, turned pitch black as soon as he barged through the door. “Bozo’s” tongue down your throat as you laid on the couch.

Gripping the shirt, the boy wore, Rafe teared him off of you. His fist immediately connecting with the boy’s jaw. You sat still, in complete shock by multiple things. Your head was spinning, how did your step-dad find you? How did someone punch one time to have teeth falling out? You knew that your step-father had a violent past but to quite literally see the boy you liked getting beaten to death, had not only scared but something else. Something that made your princess parts tingle.

“Rafe.” You whispered, the boy you had been making out with now bruised and battered as your step-father towered above him.

One look up and Rafe’s hand was gripping your arm, yanking you off the couch. He took your keys and purse in the other, dragging you towards the still open door. You winced, trying to get out of his grip but ultimately failed as he literally threw you in the passenger seat of his truck.

The tires screeched as he sped off, zooming down the empty roads of Kildare. His jaw was tight, the vein in his forehead protruding as he boiled in anger. “I knew that innocent act you pull all the time was a load of shit.” His voice so low it made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You think I’m stupid, huh? That I don’t know you are a fucking slut. You can hide it from your mom, but not from me. I could tell you were a slut from the moment I met you. Batting those ridiculous lashes at me.”

“Not a slut..” You mumbled, looking down. He was berating you with every sentence he spoke, his words nasty and degrading.

The laugh that came from him was sarcastic almost menacing, he glanced over at you for a moment, truck swerving in the process. “You know I told your mom that girls like you need some discipline. Been too fucking spoiled all your life.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, tearing your gaze away as you tried to stay relaxed in the car ride from hell. You noticed Rafe turning a few streets too early, making your frown. The street leading towards Figure 8 was nothing but trees, making it dark and desolate. You were about to ask what he was doing when the car came to a hault. It came too fast, one second you were being yanked out of your seat and the next you were being pushed against the bed of the truck.

“Rafe.. what are you doing?” You whispered, feeling the cool air hit your exposed bottom from the short skirt you wore.

“Shut up and listen.” His voice boomed, a hard smack to your ass from his hand, making you squeak out. “I’m a proactive type of person. So that means when I say I’m gonna discipline you, you are going to get disciplined.”

You weren’t expecting him to spank you, your ass cheek now stinging from just one hit. You hated yourself and more importantly your cunt for clenching around nothing at the pure wrongness of this. You felt just how damp your panties were getting, wishing you hadn’t worn a skirt or better yet had not even snuck out that night.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down and the clank of a belt, had you turning your head. It was a quick look as your head was roughly pushed down onto the hard plastic of the bed of his truck.

“Rafe..” You whimpered, head burning. “No..”

The taller man behind you, yanked your skirt up, tearing your soaked panties in one go. The dark sounding chuckle behind you was all you needed to hear to know that something bad was about to happen.

“You wanna act like a slut. You get treated like a slut.” His voice rough as he shoved his length inside you with no warning. “Show you what real dick is, since you wanna find out so bad.”

He was huge. Bigger than anything you ever could have imagined. You had only lost your virginity a few months prior and hadn’t had sex since. The burn and stretch to your hole was brutal, tears pooling in your eyes from the pain. The control he had over you though was powerful and you couldn’t bring yourself to fight back.

“What was that earlier? Not a slut.” He growled, yanking your head up by the hair. His hand came to grip your jaw tightly, dark blue eyes boring into your soul. “Why you dripping down your thighs, huh?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know why. Your step father was gorgeous to look at, and a part of you didn’t want to ever disappoint him. That was no reason to be soaking his cock though as he held you down against your will.

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughed, ramming inside you at a cruel pace, making you take his monster of a dick.

“Too.. too much.. please.” You begged, your lower stomach on fire as your first orgasm was already approaching. His hand moved down to your throat, clasping it in a tight grip. You felt your oxygen being cut, the lightheadedness coming to your brain as he squeezed hard.

“Awe don’t please me, pretty girl. You shouldn’t have been such a disrespectful little bitch, if you didn’t want to learn this kind of lesson.” Rafe’s words making you clench around his cock.

You tried to cry out, the pleasure of him taking over your body whether you wanted it to come or not. You quite literally thought that this was it. Being strangled to death, while your step-dad’s dick was buried inside you. But as you came down from your orgasm, the grip from your neck released, making you gasp for breath.

“I sure do hope that you don’t think this is over.” He breathed heavily. “Your daddy’s girl now little bitch. Got that? I catch you fucking around with another clown, I will kill you.”

You knew he had never been more serious.