#I’ve never done art this emotional before

[autumnblooms]

You’ll be alright

Still not over anxiety ridden Mountain - in reference to this post

[glitchedmagic]

so…. cyberpunk huh?

more of my ghostie impulse design but now he’s cyber

[aouiaa]

NOT JUST ANYONE’S | A. ANDERSON

warnings and disclaimers, (enemies to lovers), porn w plot (yay), a word count of 15k+?!, wlw content, mean!abby, jealous/delusional!abby, mentions of reader’s hair, abby being a book wormy, abby describes the reader as a goddess (once), fluff, angst, different povs, bullying, light workplace mistreatment, SEXUAL CONTENT, mean/softdom!abby, sub!reader, semi-public sex (hospital’s office), panties stealing, spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, masturbation, usage of a vibrator (once), scissoring, squirting, nipple play, degradation, body workship/praising, overstimulation, usage of pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, good girl, dirty girl), cum eating, mutiple orgasms, DARK CONTENT, stalking, act of stealing narcotics, cursing, jealousy, alcohol/drug consumption, mentions of inflicting harm on others, acts of frame-up.

TAPE THAT MOUTH SHUT, this is probably one of the biggest/questionable pieces of art i’ve done. though it’s FINALLY fucking done idk how to feel honestly. i just feel like i have such an emotional bind to each and every piece of work i have done. this is my baby, the full nine months and everything, and now the world will see her for her. i feel like a mother watching her baby go off to kindergarten. :”(

ONESHOT PREVIEW | ABBY ANDERSON’S MASTERLIST

PRESENT TIME

saints mary’s hospital - 2:30 am on a saturday morning

the saying goes, “it’s not about how you start, it’s how you finish.” didn’t quite apply. time seemed to move in a blur, making it impossible to piece together a coherent thought. the room filled only with the echoes of your loud, wanton sounds mingling with abby’s, far removed from anything deemed professional. however you weren't concerned with those details, not at all. with the way abby was able to extract those sounds from your throat was almost painful.

almost.

abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else, but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.

"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby.” your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.

abby's fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."

the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?

MONTHS BEFORE

saints mary’s hospital - 3:20 am on a monday night

the staff room was still mostly quiet, the faint sounds of a few muttered conversations and the soft hum of the fluorescent bulb created a low hum of background noise to complement the bigger situation in hand. you had just finished discarding your dirty gloves and discovered that some residue had clung to your uniform, prompting a soft groan of disgust to escape your lips.

you picked up another clean uniform and quickly changed into it, your mind wandering to the series of events that led you to this moment. working in a hospital meant dealing with a never-ending slew of new problems each day, some imprinting themselves in your memory more vividly than others.

and this time was memorable—at least for the night —for an aggravating sense. it was a vomiting incident in room nine that not only you witnessed, but you were also permitted to clean up after. fun, you thought sarcastically as you trudged your way with a bucket and sponge. nonetheless here you were, the aftermath, running a hand through your uniform to smooth out any wrinkles with your other hand on the doorknob, taking a long, exasperated intake prior to stepping out.

with a final exhale, you turned the knob and stepped out into the main hospital ward. the familiar sounds of hushed conversations and the constant hum of machinery filled your ears as you walked through the hallways.

with your desk in your line of sight now, your body starts to move faster as the thought of getting some much needed rest sets in. despite that, you took a quick glance around, searching for her presence, but finding no resemblance.

a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you settled into the plush chair, the cushions embracing your tired body. hands squeezing the pads provided on the arm’s office chair, this was heaven. but satan herself wouldn’t let that alleviation last for long, she never does. not in this hospital. your body suddenly tensed up and jerked forward as the sound of a hand slamming into the surface of your desk reached your ears. fuck, you thought, your head automatically turning to see the horned asshole with the little tail stuck up her ass.

“what the fuck was that back there, huh? i’ve had people complaining left and right.” she spoke, her face contorted with anger. you knew that was a lie, only there to further embarrass you in front of everyone. the “great” abby anderson was known to make something bigger than it actually was. but you’d be lying if you didn’t say that disruption left you breathless, seemed like all and any explanation that could clear your name left you, but even if you did, would it even work? or would abby deem it as a barely acceptable excuse, or quote “a three year old can lie better than you” excuse?

you could hardly breathe, your mind racing to try to explain yourself. every mistake seemed to be met with harsh criticism, and it was taking its toll on you. your voice wavered as you stuttered out a singular word in response: “what?”

abby’s expression only hardened further, her voice mocking your supposed ignorance. “couldn’t you see the medication you gave her was gonna result in nausea?”

each word was enunciated with sharp frustration, as if you were supposed to have known better, but you didn’t know. it wasn’t stated on the patient's file that she’d react like that. you followed protocol, knowing the consequences if you didn't, and followed through based on the information in hand. you weren’t in the wrong, and you explained that to abby.

though she didn’t seem to care at all, instead her words echoed through your mind like a painful reminder; you keep it up, and you’ll end up on your ass in front of this hospital.

her threat sent a pang of dread through you, and the loud thud of her office door shutting only added to your sinking feeling. you let out a heavy sigh, bringing your hand up to your eyes and rubbing them, trying to ward off the exhaustion and anxiety swirling within you.

your thoughts were interrupted as you realized the truth behind abby’s threat. you had a proven record as a dedicated and skilled employee, and deep down, you knew abby knew it too. there was a reason she couldn’t just fire you on a whim —she needed a valid justification to complete that pesky employee termination form sitting on her desk.

as you pondered on these thoughts, you let out a resigned sigh, the threat suddenly feeling less intimidating and more like a broken record you heard over and over again.

FIVE DAYS LATER

saints mary’s hospital - 11:01 pm on a saturday night

there was a newfound sense of comfort that accompanied your realization. although abby’s words still stung and cut deeply, you now had a silent reassurance— a knowledge that her threats were ultimately empty, that mere words could do nothing. your mind was now at ease, knowing that despite her harshness, she couldn’t truly harm you. the thought gave you a strange sense of power, even as she spewed her usual cruelty.

with your profound resilience, you found yourself feeling more lively and vibrant than before. you no longer fretted over every small mistake or worry constantly about doing your job wrong. your once reserved and introverted self now blossomed, making connections and building friendships where there had been none before.

amelia, the colleague who sat beside you for a year, but whom you had never truly spoken to, was now a friend, and the two of you formed a bond beyond just work-related interaction.

“darling, it’s wishful thinking that the inferno herself would let you off so easily,” amelia teases, the soft pads of her fingertips dancing along the keys of her keyboard. her familiar british accent rolls off and into your ear, making you scoff.

“it’s just for a day.” you mumble, your hands flipping the page to the never-ending paperwork waiting for you. you stop and look at amelia who’s now reclined in her chair, arms crossed with a knowing smirk.

“oh love,” laughed amelia, her playful jab at your wishful thinking only making her more endearing. “i’d love to entertain your rather ludicrous idea, but in doing so would be criminal!”

her words stung a little, you knew she was right, but hearing her say it out loud had you clenching your jaw slightly. abby would never agree to letting you take a day off from the hospital, it seemed like the whole place would fall apart without your presence.

and while it felt like an honor— at times. you longed for just one day off, a single day to rest amongst the countless days spent diligently working at the hospital. how criminal could that be? as amelia called it, you felt your shoulders sag and nodding quietly in resignation. your features must have betrayed your disappointment, as amelia swiftly noticed and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

amelia smiled sympathetically, her eyes soft as she saw your frustration. “cheer up, darling. it was just a quip.” she said softly, her tone filled with comfort.

you tried to hold back your tears when you spoke, your voice faltering as you looked up at amelia. “It's not that. i just… work my ass off, and don't even get the recognition i deserve.” your words trailed off as you let out a frustrated sigh. “and it's not like i���m just looking for that.” you pause to mend the right words together. “just some sort of break from it all.” you quickly sniffle, attempting to hide the tears that had escaped from your eyes during your confession. your embarrassment was evident as you turned away, trying to compose yourself. “god, i’m sorry for this.” you sighed heavily, reaching for a tissue to wipe away your tears.

amelia pats your shoulder, her voice filled with understanding. “no, no, i get it, darling. you need a break as much as anyone does in this bloody facility. perhaps more than hamburger-munching samson over there.” she quips, referring to a less than efficient employee.

you let out a tearful laugh, your grin still tinged with sadness. “yeah.” you agreed, your voice heavy with resignation.

amelia smiled warmly at your smile, her hand giving your thigh a comforting pat. “go ask her, and if she doesn't oblige, tell her i'll cover for you.”

her sweet words of offering to cover for you had you fighting back tears again, determined to not further burden her with your crying, and managed to let out a shaky chuckle.

you try to protest, feeling a pang of guilt for potentially inconveniencing her. “you don't have to do that.” you say softly.

however, amelia is resolute, dismissing your objections with a firm, yet gentle push. “no darling,” she replies firmly. “i don’t, but i want to. now go on.” her insistence is unwavering, and you can see that she will not take no for an answer.

with a resigned sigh of “okay”, you straighten your shoulders and approach the entrance to abby's office. a quick glance back at amelia sees her raising her thumbs in a gesture of encouragement to go ahead. you return a grateful smile before turning back around and lifting your hand to knock on the door. but before your knuckles make contact, the door swings open, revealing abby.

you freeze in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of abby before you even had the chance to knock on the door. you realize you must look like a fool, standing there frozen with your arm raised in the air. feeling a sudden pang of self-consciousness, you quickly lower your arm and bring your other hand up to cup it gently, almost as if you could somehow conceal your awkward position.

abby’s smile catches you off guard, surprised to see her display such genuine happiness at your surprised arrival. "oh—there you are.” she says.

you stand there, slightly confused by her unexpected demeanor. her next words, spoken calmly, further perplexed you: "come in." this gentle tone is unfamiliar coming from her, as she's never used it with you before, reserving it only for the presence of supervisors.

she leaves the door open for you, a silence gesture for you to enter before taking her seat at her desk. "i was going to call for you, but it seems like you heard my call telepathically." she quips, chuckling at her own joke.

you internally scoff at her stupid joke, quietly shutting the door behind you as you enter her office. "well, don't just stand there, sit." she instructs, her smile still uncharacteristically cheerful— almost eerie. you can't help but wonder if this is all just an act, a facade that will undoubtedly crack like it always does, given abby's fiery nature. however, you comply silently, watching her sift through documents on her desk.

you struggled to keep yourself from asking what she was searching for after you caught a glimpse of it being the employee files. your heart began to race as an oppressive silence enveloped the room, fueling your nerves. was she looking for your file? was this gonna be the moment when she’d reveal the anticipated reason to use on that dreaded employee termination form? your mind swarmed with questions, each more pressing than the last. how much more can you deal with this suspense looming over your shoulder like the grim reaper.

you attempt to speak in a firm tone, but your voice betrays you, wavering at the edges. “why are you so happy?” your own curiosity battling with a sense of reluctance to hear the answer.

“and why are you so gloomy?” she taunts with a smirk, chuckling. “put a smile on that face for me, yeah? you’re gonna do me a big favor.” she admits, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she mentions the word “favor.” finally finding the paper she had been searching for, she slid it across her desk in your direction. the paper contains the resume of someone you’re unfamiliar with, and your curiosity piqued.

"this is cassidy mcclair," she pauses. "and you'll be her mentor for the week. she's the new replacement nurse after what happened to poor old sadie." a pang of irritation stabs at you as abby uses a condescending tone when mentioning sadie. her untimely demise still weighed heavily on your mind.

you inadvertently let out a scoff as you cross your arms, immediately regretting the impulsive action. abby glances up at you, arching her eyebrow before speaking.

"is there a problem?" her question rhetorical, signaling her indifference to your potential objection. however, you're determined to express your feelings, regardless if rhetorical or not. you werent gonna give some half-ass smile and nod. after all, it wouldn’t be the first time your opinionated mind got you into trouble, as abby so often reminded you.

you respond with a defiant tone, your words clearly expressing your dissatisfaction. “yeah, there is actually.” you retort, your arms remaining defiantly crossed. “you’re supposed to do this. not me.”

abby chuckles at your boldness, her expression growing serious as she responds, “that was rhetorical, surely anyone with a hint of common sense would catch on. frankly, i don’t give a fuck if it is.” she dismisses your argument, beginning to organize the documents on her desk, grabbing the paper in front of you without sparing an eye, her attention now focused elsewhere. despite your differences, you remain silent, yet seething within at her dismissive response.

“be here at eight pm sharp on monday.” she adds, ending the conversation on her terms.

so much for a day off..

AN HOUR AFTER

hospital’s break room - 1:17 am on a sunday morning

after your unsolicited meeting with abby, your emotions were overflowing and the need to confide in someone was at an all time high. though the term 'confide' may be a stretch, considering you practically unloaded your frustrations to the mere mention of "hey, heard you had a meeting with the boss?"

“she didn’t even let me speak, once!” you exclaim, frustration seeping through each and every word, punctuating your sentence with lifting your pointed finger.

talia responds with a sympathetic tone, saying, “she tends to do that..” her words trail off, and you can almost feel the strain in her voice, knowing that she’s the unsuspecting recipient of your pent-up frustrations.

“right! god, she’s so fucking…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe her. “infuriating!” you say louder than anticipated.

she looks up from the coffee maker, surprise etched on her face as other heads turn towards you, startled by your outburst. you sheepishly mutter an apology before letting out a dejected sigh. trying to lighten the mood, you force a smile and lean against the counter. "so, have you had to do any of abby's dirty work too?" you quirk an eyebrow.

the long haired girl chuckles at your antics, her gaze fixated on the coffee maker as it slowly fills her cup with the dark, yet energizing substance. she turns her attention back to you, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "yeah, actually.” she replies, her voice filled with good-natured sass. "but she made the task sound much kinder when she assigned it." she jested.

you jokingly say, "oh, fuck you," to which she responds with a playful eyeroll, but then curiosity takes over. "but really?" you ask curiously. "how'd it go?"

a dreaded sigh escapes talia’s lips as she recounts her memories of being assigned to mentor a new employee. the mirth vanishes from your expression as she begins to share her experience, the once lighthearted atmosphere replaced by a sense of foreboding.

“oh, terrible," talia responds through the sigh, her laugh edged with strain before looking back at the coffee maker, which is about a quarter away from being done. "sometimes, i wondered what would be inside her head if i were to cut it open. a brain made out of putty, or no brain at all?" her words make you wince as you begin to imagine what your own experience might be like. the idea of being a mentor to a complete idiot was less than appealing.

talia takes notice of your nervousness and quickly tries to reassure you, saying, "but i assure you, your experience won't be like mine." she offers a nervous smile, hoping to alleviate your concerns.

you respond with an uneasy chuckle and a reluctant "yeah.” not truly convinced by her reassurance. you know that only time will tell if her words will hold true, and so you find yourself resigned to the fact that you'll have to impatiently wait until monday to find out.

THREE DAYS LATER

your home - 6:03 am on a monday morning

the incessant blaring of your alarm felt like background noise for the past three minutes, though you've been wide awake for about ten minutes prior to its start. last night, sleep eluded you, as anxiety and exhaustion plagued your thoughts. you had hoped that your previous activities on your day off would tire you and help you sleep, but unfortunately, that was not the case. you had laid awake for an extra hour, struggling until sleep finally took over.

your anxiety, semi-dissociative state can be attributed to your "big day" ahead, as abby had nicknamed it. the thought of the unknown had you sweating bullets. not to mention, your boss’s words that stayed with you like crazy glue, stubbornly stuck in your mind. with reluctance, you forced yourself out of bed and into the bathroom.

as you turn on the faucet, the soft meows of your kitty-cat, charles, reach your ears. your face lights up with a smile as you turn and spot him. you kneel down, showering him with a few gentle pets as he responds with a pleased purr. "hey, buddy," you whisper, planting a kiss on his head. you then stand up to check the water temperature, only to huff in frustration when it doesn't meet your desired level. turning to the kitty by your side, you murmur, "i know, bud. lemme feed you while i wait for the water."

the kitty yowls eagerly and paws at your legs, anticipating its food. you repeatedly tap the can's bottom against the bowl until the food finally falls free, landing on the plate. the cat's excitement escalates as it watches you kneel down to place the plate on the ground. chuckling, you observe the kitty pounce on the food as soon as it touches the ground.

“eat up, spud.” you give your feline friend one last pat before walking away to the bathroom. you undress and check the water's temperature once more, finding it to your liking. with a satisfied nod, you step inside, letting the hot water wash over you and momentarily rinse away your worries for today.

AN HOUR AND HALF LATER-ISH

saints mary’s hospital - 7:28 am

what was meant to be a calming shower had obliterated your sense of time, leaving you in a scrambling to finish your morning routine. with a start, you realize it was nearly seven-thirty, and sprung into action, throwing your clothes on at an almost superhuman speed. you had never dried your hair this quick before in your entire life. yes, abby had mentioned to be there at eight, but you knew that translated to "be there before eight."

you arrive at the hospital just before eight, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, knowing all too well that you wouldn't make it through the day without it. you quickly exit the elevator, stepping into the lobby to find abby engaged in conversation with a red-haired woman.

the ginger had her hair braided, resembling abby's but with more volume. her fair complexion was adorned with freckles, resembling a sky full of stars. like many others on this floor, she wore a blues-and-white uniform, with a small cat pin attached to her shirt pocket. her colorful keys hung around her neck, and her radiant smile oozed an infectious energy, effortlessly drawing a reciprocating smile from you as you approached.

your smile momentarily falters as you overhear abby's sarcastic, yet condescending tone. “oh, there's the princess!" she exclaims, closing the distance to you with the woman following suit behind. this must’ve been the woman abby was talking about, leaving you feeling increasingly anxious, your eyes locked on the girl behind her. however, abby manages to draw your focus as she speaks up.

“this is cassidy. the one i told you about the last time we spoke.” she says firmly, bringing her hand up to her shoulder and beckons her toward you.

“hi.” you say shyly.

cassidy reciprocates the greeting with a wave, her expression a mix of nervousness and surprise. however, before she can respond, abby cuts in, with a tone of sarcasm. “i trust you won't be as late as our little princess here was," she says, referring to you, causing cassidy to nervously laugh and answer with a tentative "no."

your frustration peaked as you clenched your fists, your anger evident. It was clear what abby was trying to do once again, to twist the truth and make you appear worse than you actually are. she smirked, seemingly enjoying your irritation, before patting cassidy on the shoulder and wishing her good luck.

with the condescending smirk, abby leaned in to whisper in your ear, her tone different, dripping with sarcasm. "good luck, princess." and with that, she walked away, leaving you to face the challenge ahead.

"cunt," you silently say to yourself in annoyance, sending a glare at abby's retreating form. after a moment, you plaster on a forced smile and turn your attention to the ginger girl in front of you. you extend a hand and saying, “hi, i’m y/n."

"hi, i’m cassidy, but you already know that," she laughs, taking your hand in hers and shaking it firmly. after releasing her grip, she absentmindedly begins to stroke her braid with the same hand, a subtle fidget that seems to be her go-to anxiety coping mechanism.

you smile, genuinely impressed by her hair color. “yeah, i love the color of your hair, by the way. it's beautiful.” a hint of bashfulness washes over cassidy's cheeks as she responds, "thank you, it's my natural hair."

you let out a soft "cute..." as your eyes dart over her vibrant locks before gathering your thoughts. "well, let's get to work," you sigh, beginning to walk over to your desk. cassidy quickly follows, and upon reaching your desk, you set down your things and greet amelia with a friendly smile. you then turn your attention back to cassidy, clipboard clutched in your hand.

“alright, just follow me this way.” you lead cassidy through the hospital floor, providing her with a tour of the different departments. while the tour starts off awkwardly, you and cassidy manage to strike up some small talk. despite her quiet demeanor, she proves to be a hard worker, efficiently tending to her tasks. you can relate to her reserved nature, knowing firsthand how it feels to be somewhat introverted.

FEW HOURS LATER

hospital’s break room - 12:40 pm on a monday afternoon

after having cassidy follow you around like a lost puppy, occasionally taking notes on her little cat shaped notepad when needed. you both sat in a corner, eating in comfort silence. amongst the normality, you couldn’t help but notice her lunchbox also in a cat-like shape. a soft chuckle escaped you, causing cassidy to look up from her food, her chewing briefly stopped to ask, “what?”

you point out the box which promptly makes her look down, mouthing “oh.” cassidy chuckles nervously, her cheeks tinted with a hint of embarrassment. "i suppose i’m a cliché," she admits, her smile widening. "it’s no secret now that i enjoy girly things.”

you nod, a smile playing at the corners of your lips in response. "i think it's cute." you utter with a slight smirk.

cassidy grins, a hint of self-consciousness in her expression. "you don't think it's too silly?" she asks, seeking validation.

"nope," you reply sincerely, “everyone has their own interests. who am i to judge?" you shrug, emphasizing the point.

cassidy chuckles again, playfully teasing you with her next words. "i'd beg to differ." she pauses for a moment, before continuing, "dr. anderson seems to be quite interested in you." her tone implies a hint of a tease, suggesting that abby's fondness for you may be noticeable to the people around you.

as soon as cassidy suggests that abby has a soft spot for you, you sputter and cough, practically choking on your food. between gasping breaths, you manage to exclaim, "what?! you definitely need your eyes checked!"

cassidy's eyes widen with concern, and she begins to pat your back to help you through your coughing fit. after regaining your composure, you nod, trying to play it cool as she asks if you’re alright. your voice is still strained when you speak, "i’m fine, but what makes you say something like that?" you ask, completely bewildered.

once she's assured that you're okay, cassidy begins to chuckle lightly and leans back in her chair, arms crossed in a confident stance as if she solved the equation pi in her one sitting. "i’ve seen the way she talks to you," she says, low and soft, smirking.

“yeah, she talks like she has a stick up her ass.”

your blunt comment about abby having a "stick up her ass" makes cassidy erupt into laughter. "yeah, that's—that’s definitely true," she concedes, still giggling, "but there's also… a passion behind it." she pauses before continuing. “It's like she does it out of love or something," her eyes fixed on you.

you let out an amused sigh and roll your eyes, responding with a playful retort, "yeahh, I don't know about that." you can't help but chuckle as you continue, "but, that’s definitely crazy talk." you tease, a hint of mirth in your voice.

cassidy laughs, feigning surrender by holding her hands up in a playful gesture. "hey," she says, a toothy grin plastered on her face, "i know what i'm seeing." she retorts.

you continue to eat, a scoff escaping your lips as you try to dismiss her earlier accusations. "you saw a bunch of nothing.” you remark, keeping your tone nonchalant. cassidy responds with a soft scoff of her own, but the silence that follows is strained, uncomfortable, well at least for you… you think.

your mind drifts back to all the times you've interacted with abby, a strange feeling beginning to grow inside you. there were no signs, no hint of anything more than anger and hatred, right? no itty bitty details so unmissable to others, but you? no, it couldn’t be, that’d be ridiculous, hell, every it'd be a synonym in the book ridiculous! there were never any crossovers besides hatred, a mysterious hatred, but hatred nonetheless. come to think of it, you never really found out why she hated you so goddamn much. was it envy? fear? if so, of what exactly?

whatever the case was, it doesn't matter. because you would fucking pay to see her at your mercy. beneath you with a look of hopelessness glistening in her eyes, for it to be her to struggle to utter a simple explanation, only for you to completely demolish the right of speaking. to watch that stupidly neat braid disheveled and her oh so infuriatingly muscular arms that seemed to taunt you, begging to be popped like a balloon.

yeah… you definitely hated this woman.

SIX MONTHS LATER

front desk - 1:30 pm on a wednesday afternoon

gathering any loose strands of hairs from the nape of your neck with one hand, you create a makeshift ponytail, struggling to keep a straight face as cassidy’s stifled laughter resonates nearby. you playfully chastise her, trying to suppress your own laughter.

“stop laughing,” you admonish, your attempt at a stern tone is undermined by your own stifled giggles. “you’re gonna get us caught!”

as luck would have it, you and cassidy had bonded over an unexpected shared interest— a love for plants. and they say that a mother’s life is over when they have kids. quite literal bullshit if you ask anyone with a brain. cassidy, besides being nature’s supporter, was also incredibly humorous, her wit and humor made work a little more bearable.

over a few rounds of cold beers, she had discovered abby’s mysterious hatred for you. her curiosity knew no bounds, weaving theories on why, but never truly connecting the dots. from that point on, she couldn't resist teasing abby when she erupted into her typical outbursts—episodes she jokingly dubbed "hissy fits." just a few weeks ago, she had been assigned to work the counter beside you after amelia went on maternity leave.

"check this one out," the red-head chimes, tilting her phone towards eyes’s view to reveal a piece of media from abby’s instagram. cassidy, as if being a FBI agent was her second job, didn’t break a sweat looking for abby’s entire life online the moment it was plausible.

now, knowing who to call, you glance to see a photo of the blonde with her usual serious expression. the framing itself is taken from an awkward angle. “she’s so stiff, like a damn statue.” she laughs.

you let your hands fall once successfully securing your hair in a bun, a chuckle escaping your lips. "not a bad-looking statue, though," you remark casually, shrugging your shoulders. a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you added, "maybe she should start a new career as a model. the 'stiff but stunning' look could be all the rage."

cassidy quirks an eyebrow your way, a mischievous gleam in her eye as she teases you, “oh, am i sensing something here?”

you respond with a scoff, hastily denying any such notion with playful push. “god, no!” you exclaim, feigning offense, your laugh mingling with her own.

amidst the laughter, your moment is abruptly interrupted by the overwhelming waft of a potent perfume that assaults your senses. immediately, you recognize the scent and dart your gaze towards its source—abby’s new assistant. wearing a top brazenly too small for her ample cleavage with an extravagant makeup job tailored for a circus clown, it's painfully obvious whom this performance is intended to impress.

fucking ‘asshole’ anderson. It’s a pity really; she’s a decent-looking girl, but a relentless ass-kisser. everyone in the hospital picked up on her antics pretty quickly, constantly trying to win abby’s favor. rumors speculated, suggesting they did more than just work together, but hey, they’re just rumors.

“you should be working, abby wouldn’t like this.” her grating voice rings out, dripping with unwarranted confidence.

“we’re on our break, alexa.” you reply coolly, not bothering to mask the distaste in your expression.

she theatrically glances at her watch and purses her lips, stating smugly, “not anymore.” her gaze flicks to you, a smirk playing at her lips. it takes every ounce of restraint you possess not to grab her by the hair and slam her head against the wall. instead, you listen as she adds, "i should be informing abby about this,” she emphasizes with her hand, going in a circular motion towards you and cassidy before finishing. “but she's requested your presence in her office right now."

you stare at her, bewilderment etched across your face. abby? needing you in her presence? the confusion can’t linger long when she impatiently snaps her fingers.

"chop, chop, she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” she prompts, her tone dripping with condescension.

fucking bitch.

"you said you needed me?" you inquired, poking your head through the door’s open crack.

"yes, shut the door and take a seat." she affirms, witnessing firsthand the intentitive— almost obsessive behavior driven by a need to be perfection itself. her eyes don’t move from the paperwork at hand, but there’s no need for her body language and demeanor is a revelation on its own.

her stoicism matched almost flawlessly, as if they had been meticulously practiced in the mirror—akin to a morning ritual, like a cup of coffee. and her physique? it’s a memoir to resolution, sculpted from the divine hands of a deity, making you wonder: how could a person be so flawless? is she a forsaken angel, once god's favorite, now cast away from grace?

her voice, now with a hint of a crisp clear edge, breaks the silence, stating firmly, "i need to discuss something with you." her arms are now visible, resting on top of her desk, hands neatly folded together, an action that seizes your attention like a magnet. was this beautiful “angel” of a woman merely toying with you, masquerading as a jester with deceptive tricks?

nervously, you lick your dry lips and nod, responding with a strained voice, "yeah?" she picked up on that.

her eyes narrow with curiosity, and she leans forward, her voice laced with suspicion as she queries, “tell me,” she begins, letting the question linger in the air for a moment. “why do you still waste time with cassidy?” her tone carries a note of mild disdain. “she’s a bit.. odd, don’t you think?”

within the span of a moment, a wave of frustration surges through you, compelling you to argue your case. however, you find yourself inexplicably entranced by her features, unable to break the spell that has woven its way around your thoughts. nodding without conscious thought, your gaze is transfixed on the magnificence standing before you— the artistry of her face and form.

the sun's warm glow streams through the windows just behind her, casting a radiant light upon her as if nature itself were emphasizing its own masterpiece. every detail of her appearance is meticulously crafted, like a tempting apple dangling in front of the unsuspecting. a loose strand of hair falls gracefully in front of her face, accentuating the fine features of her facial structure. the angular lines of her nose seem to carry the weight of her sharp-edged spectacles, and her eyes, often lacking warmth, rarely seek solace in anything but themselves.

the sinew, a testament to the muscularity of her arms, even beneath the loose confines of her doctor’s coat, as if they were destined to stand out, to be admired. the way she held her pen moments ago makes it seem almost insignificant in comparison to her thick fingers, wrapped around it like a vice. her penmanship is impeccable, smooth and faultless, as if her hand is a perfectly calibrated machine.

god’s greatest gifts bestowed on its worst creation alive.

"are you even listening to me, right now?" she questions, her jaw setting tight.

startled, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking to moisten the dry eyes that had forgotten to blink in their fixated state, you confirm. “yes.” no.

“i asked you a question.” she snaps, her voice stern.

“what was the question?” you stammer, feeling flustered under her intense scrutiny.

“why—forget it.” a sudden shift in her expression indicates a change of mind. it seems the words didn’t sound as smart when she voiced them aloud.

“what?” you stutter, leaning forward in your chair. “what were you going to say?”

“i said, nevermind,” she replies, her tone firm and dismissive. “you’re free to go.” she averts her gaze from you, redirecting it towards her paperwork, as if you had suddenly become unimportant and unworthy of her attention.

you’re left dumbfounded, what was that about?

FEW HOURS LATER

your bedroom - 3:20 am on a thursday morning

your sharp gasp and the tension in your body were palpable, confined to the bed where your body lay cushioned. a hand ran through your hair before tugging it tightly, adding to the pleasure that coursed through you. the serene hum of your vibrator, nestled between your legs, was a poor substitute for the fantasies that danced through your mind.

your guilty pleasures, your secret desire.

“oh, abby!” you moaned, the broken syllable laced with longing. images of her flashed through your mind, your body yearning for the warmth of her fingers instead of the cold, mechanical pleasure your toy provided. the thought of being stretched by her strong, capable hands was all it took to push you over the edge.

a wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body shaking as you orgasmed, the fantasy of abby's touch more potent than the reality. the intensity of your pleasure left you breathless, even as you knew it was only a fleeting escape from reality.

as your mind snaps back, an overwhelming rush of realization washes over you. you toss aside the vibrator, sitting up with a sigh. you can’t help, but feel shame towards yourself. the thought of your boss—the one person who makes your life a living hell—occupies your thoughts. how could you even entertain the thought of her?

a fallen angel, huh?

SAID “FALLEN ANGEL”

abby anderson

she was fucking on one today, and in return she thought you were too. her mind was consumed by you. even the morning coffee, always a comfort, tasted bitter and cold. she didn't even acknowledge the usual flirtatious advances from her assistant when she greeted her this morning. instead, she simply asked for her requested files and retreated to the sanctuary of her office, locking the door behind her.

it was always you, stirring up trouble by merely existing near her. cassidy mcclair, that braid-wearing copycat bitch, had you wrapped around her serpentine fingers. and you? you should have known better than to waste your precious time with people like that, but there you were. in fact, compared to these idiots you had to call coworkers, you were leaps and bounds above them.

you were just making a mistake, a mistake that was costing her sleep— more than she already doesn’t get.

she silently fumed as she stood in front of her office door for her daily check on what everyone was doing, over the years making mental lists of the flaws of each employee. amelia, didn’t know if she was bleating or laughing, and those killer front teeth— literally. one glance and someone’s head would be off. then there was samson, who seemed to do nothing, but shove burgers down his gargantuan throat. she was convinced he never even bothered to chew.

it was laughable, and she could go on and on about the flaws each one of her employees had. but you, well, not a single flaw could be attributed to you. not one mentioned on any list of the many she had. in essence, you were the embodiment of a boss's dream employee—quick on the case, a good sport, but until now, there was one flaw that had eluded you: the habits of hanging around the wrong people.

granted, it's not like cassidy was forcing drugs down your throat, but it was clear she was trouble. competition, that had to be eliminated. but one might wonder, why? why did abby have such a deep-seated grudge against you? why did she feel this burning urge to take you down? just like a pack of wolves, having her sights set on the weak link, ready to pounce.

deep down, abby didn't fully understand her intense feelings towards you. each attempt to articulate her emotions only led to frustration as they were often misinterpreted in the delivery. you made her nervous in a way that was both understandable and utterly perplexing, leaving her with feelings uncharted. in a desperate attempt to maintain control, she decided the best course of action was to keep her fondness for you hidden. surely, as long as you remained oblivious to her affections, there would be no complications, right?

she’d pledge that promise to the death, do everything to her power to keep it this way. there would be no vulnerability, no broken hearts to be on the mend, even if meant being cruel. but when cassidy came and first laid her eyes on you. oh, how she wanted to claw her eyes out just for even staring at you for a millisecond long.

it infuriated her to see how easily cassidy could evoke laughter and smiles from you, things that abby denied herself. many long, self deprecating nights filled with overflowing ashtrays of spent cigarettes and a collection of empty whiskey glasses were becoming too often to be called a casual drinker.

the day she requested your presence in her office, and sat across from her as she filled out the paperwork to transfer cassidy to another floor was a moment of triumph. however, her satisfaction evaporated rather quickly—leaving her dry to the bone. throughout the entire conversation, you appeared to be dazed, barely registering a word she spoke. had she been too late? were you already so smitten with cassidy that you couldn't even comprehend a word coming out of her mouth?

was it already too late?

after you had left her office, abby found herself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. alone with her musings, her mind raced, and suddenly, all her thoughts aligned. if the two of you were indeed in a relationship, as it seemed so obvious, then separating the two of you would create an irreversible ripple effect. like two peas in a pod, together you were a force to be reckoned with, but tearing one away and crushing it would change everything.

if cassidy wanted to stoop low, she could go lower.

ANDERSON’S ESTATE

4:54 am on a sunday morning

due to the convoluted approval process, the transfer paperwork would likely take weeks, if not months, to be approved. there was no way abby could allow that to happen. by the time the transfer was accepted, you'd be off in dubai for a honeymoon with your apparent soulmate, sipping margaritas without a care in the world. no, she had to find a way to expedite the process, and it had to be done by the end of this overcoming week.

so she found herself in her office, nursing a few glasses of whiskey and indulging in chain-smoking cigarettes, a habit she could never partake in one without the other. surrounded by the solace of her private liar, the alcohol and nicotine fueled her thoughts, as she brainstormed list after list of ways to get rid of cassidy. patient abandonment was one option, but it ran the risk of tarnishing her own reputation as well. however, she was past the point of caring about the repercussions of her actions. all that mattered was taking down cassidy, one way or another.

feeling a mixture of an uncomfortable unfulfillment and disoriented, she runs a hand through her tousled mane. with a groan, rubs her eyes and gets up, smoldering the glowing embers of the cigarette in the overflowing ashtray before trudging off to bed like a pouting toddler.

In the comforts of her bed, shafts of dawn gently seeped through the curtains, with her loyal puppy, alice, sleeping at her feet, whining occasionally as she glanced up at her owner. abby couldn't help but wonder if the dog was attempting to communicate with her, as if offering a cautionary message. was it the effects of the whiskey and cigarettes playing tricks on her mind, or was her canine companion genuinely trying to warn her of impending consequences? these thoughts swirled through her muddled mind, yet the idea of it actually seemed far-fetched.

it’s a thing to think of, and another to do.

ONE DAY, MONDAY

cheshire cat grin

“and i want you all to be more aware— if you haven’t been already.” the firm voice snapped abby out of her reverie.

a weary sigh emits as her body slumps into a loose crescent shape, the strain of sitting in an ass-numbing chair for hours was finally taking its toll, and listening to her supervisor drone on and on about the same old report on employee performance wasn’t helping either. however, one particular statement caught her undivided attention.

the rise in unauthorized narcotics.

the report revealed that there had been a 3% increase in the number of supplies used compared to the usual amount. this increase caused considerable stress for the superior, who advised—no, demanded that all doctors on each floor find the culprit.

with mounting irritation from the current predicament, the overseer noticed abby’s expression and prompted her with a question. “is there anything you’d like to say, abigail?” she inquired, presumptuously.

as the superior fixed a firm gaze on her, abby’s initial instinct was to reply with a simple “no.” but then a new thought took hold. she sat up straighter, straightening her normally confident demeanor even further, and responded with a question of her own. “hypothetically speaking, if i do uncover the perpetrator, what measures will be taken in response?”

the woman’s scoff conveyed a dismissive tone, as if the answer was lingering in the air. she smugly responded, “well, hypothetically, they’d be fired on the spot, and all hospitals in the county would be notified never to employ them again.” there was a brief pause before continuing with that same overly confident demeanor, “so, they’d have to move just to find another job.” eyeing abby as if searching for even the slightest hint of nervousness.

under normal circumstances, abby’s temper would have flared at her superior’s condescending tone, but in that moment, everything was perfect. a polite smile abby offered held more than the naked eye could see.

the jigsaw pieces were falling into place.

TWO DAYS LATER, WEDNESDAY

surprise!

the days melded together, each one weighed down by a stack of endless papers and an incessant, desperate assistant who was over her shoulder, relentlessly nagged for her attention. in those moments of exhaustion, she started regretting ever giving them the slightest bit of her attention in the first place, justifying the brief lapses in her focus as mere 'moments of weakness'.

in obeying her supervisor's advice, she had been carefully observing everyone, with a heightened level of scrutiny directed towards cassidy, intentionally growing increasingly “suspicious” of her. with a fierce determination, she wrestled hard to suppress the many outbursts that threatened to spill over simply due to the sight of you and cassidy together.

even as a child, abby had a knack for fixating on unimportant details, down to the intricate nuances of color. her attention to detail had grown into a deep obsession, enabling her to familiarize herself with an object or being within days. with cassidy, she had approached it like disassembling a game of jenga, meticulously analyzing her every action, carefully calculating her plans. all she needed now was the opportune moment to set everything into motion.

just as she was about to execute her plan, a sudden, unexpected event occurred, as if on cue.

with newfound courage bolstered by a glass of whiskey and a cigarette, she rose from her chair, only for the shrill ring of her phone to pierce the tense atmosphere, and she glanced down to see a rarely-seen name on the screen— her grandmother, susana. an unyielding, meticulous woman, had been a source of inspiration for abby as she grew up, shaping her into the determined individual she had become.

susana, was a renowned fashion designer based in paris, a demanding professional life that had left her with limited time to spend with her beloved granddaughter. with a huff, sitting back in her office chair, abby picked up her phone and pressed it against her ear, preparing for their conversation.

"oh, my darling abigail!" the sound of her grandmother's sweet, melodic voice filled abby's ear.

a subtle wince crossed her face, and a forced smile tugs at her lips, almost as if her grandmother could see her through the phone.

"hi.” she responded, prompting her grandmother to lightheartedly tease, "oh, darling, why so timid?" her chuckle echoed over the line.

abby responded with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "sorry, gam-gam, I'm just a bit stressed." she confessed.

her grandmother replied with a lighthearted hum. “well, in that case, meet me at the cafe down the street for a little whine down.” and with a click, the line went dead, leaving abby scarcely a moment to protest.

with a heavy sigh, she tossed her phone aside, muttering, "damnit." frustrated, she ran a hand over her face.

in the reserved confines of their booth, her grandmother inquired with a casual tone, "so, did you receive my letter?" she pierced a strawberry with her fork, taking a bite.

abby responded with a nod, her thoughts momentarily astray to the brief moment earlier when she'd seized the opportunity to execute her plan on cassidy's unattended bag during your lunchtime in the break room. she knew such an opportunity might not present itself again anytime soon, as cassidy was set to be away until friday.

“and the book?”

abby paused, strawberry mid-air on her fork, perplexed by her grandmother's question. "what book?" she questioned with a full mouth, confusion lacing her voice.

her grandmother sighs, explaining, "the book didn't arrive?" she grumbled about the subpar mailing service. "doesn’t matter," she continued, "we can just head over to the bookstore after and replace it." her interest piqued as her grandmother added that it was another mythology book, a favorite topic of hers.

abby's eyes sparkled with excitement. "awe, sweet! i’ve been meaning to go." she responded enthusiastically.

the older woman chuckled, observing, "old habits die hard, I suppose." she then posed a question that seemed to ignite her interest even more. "tell me, have you managed to swoon any girls with your extensive library of knowledge?" her grandmother's smile grew wider at this question, her genuine wish for abby's happiness evident. how could abby possibly ruin her grandmother's happiness?

abby wasn't one to lie, but she felt compelled to do so, especially since the truth was more difficult to share. a gentle smile tugged at her lips, and a blush appeared on her face as she played with the blueberry on her plate. though it was a lie, it was an effortless one. "well, there's this one girl at work," she began, her voice growing more softer. "she’s incredibly sweet, and I think she likes me." the rosiness in her cheeks deepened, adding a touch of authenticity to her fib.

“awe, sugarplum, who is it?”

“her name is y/n.”

ANOTHER TWO DAYS LATER, FRIDAY

the final act

after two days of being completely immersed in the book, abby managed to force herself back to reality. cassidy had reappeared, prompting abby to resume her daily observations. she diligently watched over you and cassidy, particularly monitoring the red-head’s interactions.

she had arranged a private conversation with the supervisor, raising concerns about “suspicious” behavior involving cassidy. the supervisor guaranteed action before six pm that afternoon. all she needed to do now was secure her bag alone before then. abby set an alarm on her watch, stashed the narcotics in her pocket, and exited her office, determined to carry out her plan.

she closed her door and was immediately greeted by the familiar sounds of chatter and movement, the distinctive scent of the hospital filling her nose. as she inhaled, it was as if she was breathing in the purest air. but then, the explosive sound of a voice abruptly shattered her moment of comfort. she jumped in surprise and turned her head to see a nurse.

"sorry, doctor," she apologized, her smile tinged with nervousness. "i—uhm, have documents for you to sign for a discharge." she extended the clipboard, waiting for abby to take it.

still feeling discombobulated, abby nodded stiffly as she accepted the clipboard and signed it. “are… are you okay?” the nurse's question caught her off guard, prompting her to look up. "yes—yes, I'm fine.” she replied, her voice somewhat strained.

saying a brief goodbye, she walks down the hallway, and sees cassidy getting dressed in the staff room. abby smirks, and walks inside just as she’s gonna leave. the initial door opening scares, making her jump back, and she sees it’s abby, she greets her with a smile, and quick hi, trying to exit. but abby isnt gonna let her leave so quick.

abby says a brief farewell and proceeds down the hallway, catching sight of cassidy dressing up in the staff room. she stops with a grinch-like grin saunters into the room just as cassidy is about to exit. the sudden door opening startles cassidy, making her jump back. she quickly greets abby with a smile and a casual "hi," attempting to leave. however, abby is determined not to let her go that easily.

"hey, wait." abby halts cassidy in her tracks with a firm arm grab, causing her to stop.

cassidy looks up, bewildered, and clutches her bag close to her shoulder, waiting to see what this was about. abby’s eyebrows furrowed, it’s been truly a long time since she stood by her self-proclaimed enemy. she didn't seem to have changed much— not that she cared to notice, except for the new pin on her shirt— a small pride flag, cute.

abby scoffs, chuckling which prompts cassidy to raise an eyebrow. “what’s so funny?”

in response, she shakes her head dismissively, replying with a hint of mischief, "nothing, just a joke i remembered." adding slyly with a cunning smile, she continues, "how do you like working here?"

cassidy swallows, her nerves becoming visibly apparent as she nods in agreement. "it’s good," she reiterates, adding, "yeah, i love working with the children."

abby hums in response, laughing. "well, don't let me stop you." she promptly opens the door for cassidy, eliciting a smile from her in response, and as she begins to pass through, the taller blonde adds. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

as she watched cassidy leave with her bag in hand, abby's emotions were divided. she felt a sense of sheer satisfaction, empowerment, her lips twisting into a muscle straining grin as she watched the bag recede into the distance, carrying her ticket goodbye. and she didn’t feel an ounce of regret because she did warn her. to enjoy it all, her time at the hospital to its fullest, and she meant it. true to her nature, abby prided herself on consistency, even more so in her efficiency, like a stealthy ninja.

in and out, no flaws, no witnesses.

no window for the light to shine through.

THE LIGHT

cascading over your form was from the now straining lamp above. your head ached, overwhelmed by the events of the day. but one interaction stood out as particularly odd— an event you didn't take part in, rather witness instead.

it seemed under every blue moon that cassidy and abby would interact, despite working on the same floor. there were no crossovers, so when a hand broke that line. there was something unsettling about the whole interaction, especially the invader's body language. her movements were mechanical, unnatural even, making it all hard to ignore.

a chill runs down your spine as you consider the implications. you know what you witnessed, but it feels almost unbelievable. just as with notorious serial killers, you struggle to comprehend the thought processes behind such heinous acts. perhaps this lunatic in particular requires her own account to explain her motives and actions.

you arrived at just the right moment, only a few seconds before their conversation ended. fortunately, you had come in time to witness abby casually slipping something into cassidy's bag while she was turning away. the object had a distinct pill bottle shape, subtle enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention, but enough to pique your interest.

the rumors of stolen narcotics had been circulating, and a mysterious culprit was being gossiped about behind closed doors. you and cassidy had spent some time discussing the topic, sharing silly theories, though nothing more than just pure hearsay.

your eyebrows furrow in thought, though it wasn't helping. instead, only intensified the now throbbing headache, slowly morphing into a full-blown migraine. with your hands holding your head up, you look down at long forgotten paperwork that was meant to be done from the comforts of your own home, but considering the distressing state you’re in. it was far from comforting now.

with a frustrated sigh, you flick off the lamp and abandon your paperwork, ready to rise from your desk. suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you with a spike in heart rate. you glance down at the caller ID.

you immediately answer the call, only to be met with cassidy's hysterical voice. through her sobs and gasps, she reveals that she was fired due to stealing narcotics. your worst fears were confirmed; it was no longer just a mere theory. you had indeed witnessed abby slipping something that resembled a small pill bottle into cassidy’s bag.

as you try to console your friend, a whirlwind of emotions begins to roil within you. some of that emotion directed towards yourself, but strongly towards abby. it was true, you saw it with your very own eyes, and yet chose to wait. you hated the fact that it took you so long to come to your senses, and a wave of guilt consumes you for not marching straight to the supervisor moments after witnessing it.

even if it was too late for your friend, it wasn’t for abby.

the lobby, now shrouded in dimmed lighting with very few sources of illumination, seemed like something straight out of a horror movie. paying no mind to the eerie ambiance, you quickly make your way towards abby’s office door, knowing she typically uses this time to prepare the employee’s schedules. the reasoning behind why she does it in her office is unknown, but frankly, not your biggest concern.

your knuckles collide forcefully against the wood, channeling the full extent of your anger’s strength. the door swings open, revealing a slightly taken aback abby. she utters, “what—what are you doing here?” her tone seems somewhat off.

you don’t waste any time, no words, and cut straight to the chase. “what did you do to cassidy?”

she raises an eyebrow in confusion, responding, “what are you talking about? are you on something, y/n?”

without hesitating, you push past her into her office. turning your head at neck breaking speed to set your hardened gaze onto hers. your voice takes on a more firm tone: “am i? are you?!”

you repeat your question with unwavering determination. “what did you do to cassidy?”

with a scoff, she crosses her arms, feigning innocence. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she denies.

“oh, don’t play dumb,” you retort, your gaze unwavering. “you know exactly what i’m talking about! tell me, what was it that you threw into her bag?”

she nervously swallows, her composure faltering for just a moment before she regains control. this reaction was all you needed to confirm your suspicions.

"that’s confidential.” she repeats assertively, making her way behind her desk.

"confidential, my ass!" you yell in response. "i know damn well what i saw!"

she stops in her tracks and turns her head to face you, a look of indignation on her face. “what did you just say to me?”

ignoring her interruption, you push on, demanding answers. “what did you do to her? what did you say?!” your fist clenched tightly.

for the first time, she drops her facade, maintaining eye contact without hesitation, as she admits. “i gave her a little parting gift.”

the intensity in her eyes makes your blood run cold, trying to gather a sense of what her cryptic response implies. you stammer. “what—what does that even mean?”

she suddenly realizes the gravity of her confession—how she inadvertently revealed her actions, but anger clouds her morality. "just drop it.” she grits out through clenched teeth, patience wearing thin.

the fire in your eyes flares up, brimming with anger and defiance that refuses to let you back down. "no!" you firmly retort. "you’re going to tell me!" frustration seeps through your voice as your patience wanes. you’re tired of her smug superiority, the audacity to act as if she had everyone under her command.

her lips curl into a smirk, her voice oozing with sarcastic scorn. “oh, i’m gonna tell you?” she taunts, scoffing. “tell you what? about your little friend?” her tone carries undertones of something against your mere friendship with cassidy.

the mention of something more regarding your friend sends a pang of defensiveness coursing through you.

"what?" you breathe out, taken aback. "what does that even mean, huh?"

she takes a step forward, each breath heavy and labored. her voice betrays her impatient nature, a predator preparing to pounce. “oh, you know what that means,” she retorts, scoffing internally at how dull you’re being to an obvious situation. despite the tension in the room reaching a high, it’s abby’s intensity that seizes the moment. you half expected to see her licking her lips with anticipated hunger, like a ravenous beast.

it sends a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through you—an alluring mixture of curiosity and trepidation. the encounter itself feels like a high-stakes game of chess where you struggle to predict your opponent's next move. as you step back, your confidence falters, and your voice softens into a small whimper.

“i don’t...”

abby catches onto this, pouncing on it like a hungry lion sensing weakness, further igniting her motives.

you gasp as your back meets the cool, solid wood behind you. in an instinctive movement, your eyes flick briefly behind you before darting back forward. only to find abby’s overbearing presence suffocating your personal space.

"oh, i think you do." she rasps, tilting her head to the side, a chuckle escaping her lips. her faltering gaze lingering to your lips for a fleeting moment before pulling away. her tone seethes with anger, words biting as she scoffs.

“you think you’re so damn slick, huh?” she paces back and forth, a fierce intensity in her stride, causing you to wince in response.

“you act like i wouldn’t catch on to your little games, as if it wasn’t painfully transparent to everyone around you!” her frustration builds, and she raises her arms, unleashing a frustrated sigh before bringing them down forcefully to slap her thighs. "as if i wouldn’t notice!”

you couldn't understand where this anger was coming from. sure, she had always been an asshole, but lately, her outbursts and irritability have seemed to reach a new assholery. and it seemed to have started around the same time you had become friends with cassidy. It was almost as if your newfound friendship had awakened something within her, something darker and more volatile. perhaps jealousy?

abby’s anger blazes brightly in her eyes, her words sharp. "god, you’re infuriating," she says, her voice laced with hostility. "like some fucking prodigy, you think you know everything, don’t you?!" she emphasizes with lurching her body forward, her hands slamming down on the desk either side of you, effectively trapping you in place.

your breath hitches as she draws nearer, her proximity sending an intoxicating wave throughout your body. the intensity of her anger is palpable, every labored breath brushing against your skin like a gentle caress. her lips are tantalizingly close to yours, separated by an annoying invisible barrier that could be shattered at any moment if she so desired. just one push.

"fuck you, abby!" you hiss, your voice faltering for a moment before hardening. "you always had a goddamn bone to pick with me, you piece of shit!" your words linger in the air, carrying years of built-up resentment directed at abby. but the shock of her unexpected confession wipes away your outrage, replacing it with astonishment.

"because i love you!" she yells, her voice ringing out louder than intended. her revelation hangs in the air, rendering you speechless. as those words sink in, your breath catches in your throat. "what?" you manage to croak out, hardly believing what you've just heard.

you observed a flicker of vulnerability in her expression that's quickly replaced by a hardened composure. there was no turning back, the cat was out of the bag, and so she only pressed forward with determination.

her voice descending to a low, sultry tone, she says "you think watching what's mine prancing around like a slut at her own workplace doesn't make me livid?" each word drips with possessive anger and suppressed desire.

your voice comes out smaller and fragile than anticipated as you muster the words, "i’m… i’m not yours." you struggle to meet abby's intense gaze, your body tensing subconsciously as you push yourself against her desk, attempting to create some space between the two of you. the air is thick with tension, the room practically vibrating with the weight of abby’s confession and your denial. you felt trapped, your body practically molding into the desk behind you.

"do you believe that?" she inquires, raising a brow in challenge. she lifts a thumb to slide across your bottom lip, her touch firm yet almost teasing. she pauses for a moment before letting out a gravelly chuckle, further probing into the tension. “i don’t.” she admits with a light shrug. her movements felt taunting, yet calculated as if she’s trying to catch you in a lie, and to fess up.

abby was frustrated, bordering on infuriated, trying to make sense of the situation. her mind was a tangle of emotions, and she felt like she was grasping at straws, trying to connect the pieces in her head. she had the mental board laid out in her mind, each string connecting to a different thought, all pointing to one central question: you and cassidy, and the enigma of your poorly hidden relationship. this uncertainty fueled her anger, and you weren’t making it any better. she wanted to do something— anything— to show you that you weren't just anyone's; you were hers.

"what about alexa, huh?" you ask, gaining a peak of confidence, your words snapping her attention back.

“what about her?” she questions truthfully, amused by your presumed jealousy. “you jealous?"

caught off guard and exposed, you feel the equilibrium shift, upending the chess pieces in your mind. "i’m not jealous," you insist, realizing the power her words hold. it’s as if she has cornered you in this game, check. mate.

“oh, sure you aren’t." abby steps closer, her body pressing against yours, trapping you between her and the desk. her words take on a dual edge of ire and yearning as she smirks. "i should’ve known with the way you’ve been acting, you’re practically begging me to put you in your place.” she murmurs, chuckling gravely. "to fuck you until you can only say yes, doctor anderson." she feigns a high pitch moany tone, a lewd and terrible, yet obvious admit of sounding like you as she says “yes, doctor anderson.”

she laughs before humming, seeming to enjoy that fantasy as she lets herself become lost in the idea for a moment before continuing.

abby’s features lean in closer, the heat from her breath caressing the apple of your cheek as she murmurs against your ear, “tell me, do you let cassidy make you her personal pocket pussy?” her words send a shiver down your spine as her hand moves to caress your cheek, pausing to let you feel the weight of her question in the air before inquiring further, “to bend you over anywhere, anytime, and you’ll just take it like a good girl?” her words laced with a lewdness that sends a thrill through your body, despite the fact that you know you should reject the notion. the question itself was filthy, taboo, and utterly intoxicating. but you couldn’t deny the existence of being drawn to it, deep down knowing more than ever if you ever were to think of that fantasy, you’d want it to be her, not cassidy.

“no, no, it’s not like that.” you attempt to defend yourself, trying to find the right words, but abby interjects before you can say anything else. she scoffs at your attempted denial, her grip on you tightening, causing you to wince. her voice lowers into a dark laugh, her disbelief evident. "oh really? you really expect me to believe that bullshit?"

her name escapes your lips in a gasp, but abby cuts you off yet again, her eyes darkening as she speaks.

"lemme tell you what it's like," she begins, her tone husky. “i think you'd like it. hell, you pray that it does happen because you're nothing but just a pathetic girl who wants some attention. is that what you want? attention?" abby inquires, licking her teeth in an almost predatory manner. your heart races in your chest as her words cut through you.

the tension in the room is palpable, thick with unexpressed desire and emotion. you find yourself unable to hold back any longer, your voice quivering as you voice your deep-seated need. “i want your attention," you confess, your words almost inaudible, they're so faint.

even if faint, she heard all of it, dissected each syllable. it’s all she ever wanted, no, needed to hear from you. “yeah?” her voice falters into a soft whimper, tilting her head to the side and grabbing your cheeks with her large hands, only now focusing on your lips. “i’ll give you all my attention.” she promises, swiftly pulling your face, smashing yours onto hers.

your body trembled from the conflicting sensations, a clash of cold and hot, a maelstrom of warring emotions. years without her touch had left you craving her embrace, and her lips on yours sent heat coursing through your veins. though the kiss stood unspoken, there was no need for actions that spoke louder. both hatred and desire intertwined, two sides of the same coin, fueling this volatile gesture. your hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour, as hers did the same, desperately pulling you closer, kneading your flesh like clay. your hands finally found a resting place on her shoulders, gripping her like a lifeline in the storm of sensations swirling around you.

your movements, your gasps and sighs, fueled the fire within abby, and with a determined strength, she hoists you up onto her desk. the sudden change in position elicits gasp from you, pressing your body against hers with an arch, and abby seizes the moment, slipping her tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervent passion. it was a dance both familiar and new, a moment of fiery connection that consumed you both.

her breath ragged, lips tingling from the passion of the kiss as stares down at you, her eyes dark and filled with hunger as she murmurs her confession. "i've always dreamt of this… having you," her fingers roaming over your body slowly as she says this, relishing in the way you react to her touch. she presses her forehead shading yours, her dilated eyes reflecting the depth of her desire. her cold thumbs find their way underneath your clothes, tracing slow circles, sending a shiver through your body. "having this feeling of your skin under my fingertips."

your voice quivered as you call her name, and for a moment you think your plea to have her lips on yours again are answered, but instead, she finds her new focus, your neck. her lips fall, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites. the sound of your whimpers only spurred her on, her hands gripping your hips possessively as she continued to mark your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys.

abby was in her element now, and your desperate tone only fed her desire. she wanted more, to hear you call her name even more. with a smirk, she lifted her head, eyes burning with amusement. "yeah? you like the sound of that, pretty girl?" she muses, her hand suddenly landing a sharp smack on your thigh, making you jump. in response, she chuckled at your reaction, her laugh sent tingles down your spine, a mixture of amusement and desire. her grip on your thighs tightened, pushing them higher up, and drinking up the sight of you, spread before her with your feet on the desk sent abby's desire spiraling out of control. she couldn't help but lick her lips, taking in the full view of your flushed skin and parted legs. you couldn't hold back a squirm, feeling so exposed— though you weren’t — under her intense gaze.

"i love seeing you like this," she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. she steps towards you again, nestling herself in the newfound space. her lips return to your neck, greeting the previous bruises plastered on your neck with soft licks and kisses. "so desperate and needy."

her hands leave your thighs as she lifts herself up to meet your gaze, taking in your already disheveled state. with a hum of satisfaction, she asks, "who gets you like this?"

you manage to respond with a barely audible, "you, abby." she hums at your whimperish respond, a smirk crossing her lips at the confirmation, "yes, not that bitch, cassidy. me. and only me, right, baby?" she gives a slight nod, as if she’s responding for you.

the blonde brings her hand up to your lips, watching as you open your mouth to invite her thumb, which she eagerly accepts.

she let out a low, guttural groan as you suck and lick her pad of her thumb, enjoying the sensations that your mouth causes. she couldn't resist the urge to voice her thoughts, her words thick with possession and desire.

"hm, such a dirty girl." she paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, before amending her statement with a husky tone, "my dirty girl."

you release her thumb with a pop, humming a tone of satisfaction, and licking your lips to savor the lingering taste of her. a chuckle escapes abby's lips as she watches you, her eyes roaming your body yet again. the desire to rip your clothes off and shut you up has been building since the moment you walked into her office, "take this off, baby. you’re killing me with not showing me what's mine," she growls, her words tinged with need and possess. "need to see it, feel it. need." she mumbled against your skin, completely submitted to her delusions. you don’t fight this time, barely able to remove each article of clothing with abby eagerly kissing and licking every available inch of skin. but stops at your bikini line, encountering a setback— your underwear — cockblocking her.

her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, looking up at you with an almost comical expression of frustration, and offense. as if being unable to take off your underwear because of her was a you problem. “funny.” she retorts, tone dripping in sarcasm, but nothing on her face shows amusement. “real fucking funny.” she remarks, punctuating her words with a sharp smack to your hip, kneading at the red skin roughly, making you wince. “you fucking tease.” she continues, her voice laced with a mix of desire and irritation.

"i should punish you for that little stunt," her fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, intending to pull them down herself since you’re incompetent to do so. “but, fuck, look at all this.” she relents, sliding them off your legs— and pocketing them for later — to reveal your core, practically weeping for her. “all this f’me?” she pants, eyes flicking up to yours.

a whiny moan of her name slips past your lips, but she shushes you gently, her voice softer now. "i know, baby, i know." she cooed, her large hand running comfortingly up and down your side. as she spreads your quivering legs further, exposing your drenched folds, abby feasts her eyes upon the sight before her. her lips curve upward, "fuck," she breathed, her eyes never leaving your pulsing core. “look at this pretty pussy. this is prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen—this has to be mine.” she leans down, her warm breath ghosting over your clit before she pressing a tender kiss there, savoring your reaction to her smallest touch, and now wondering what other reactions she could get out of you.

you weren't prepared for what came next, not one bit. expecting her to take things slow, you were completely caught off guard as abby gripped your thighs and, in one swift motion, separated your slimy folds, lapping any sweet nectar waiting for her. you tense from sudden sensation, letting out a loud, unapologetic moan as you arch off the desk. your hands instinctively tangle themselves into her steady braid that soon unravels from being used as reins.

encouraged by your fervent response, abby delved deeper, her skilled tongue tracing a path to your engorged nub. enclosing it between her lips, she whispered her praise, "you taste better than i thought." her voice trembled, mingling with your own moans.

as her teeth gently nipped at your sensitive bundle, you cried out, your thighs involuntarily squeezing her shoulders. a wicked smirk graced her lips as she basked in your reaction, taking immense pleasure in your submission.

the unexpected pinch sent jolts of shock through your body, your limbs twitching and writhing in a frenzied dance. in response, abby repositions her left hand on your abdomen, gripping tightly to anchor you in place. each sound that escaped your trembling lips fueled her hunger, her throaty hums resonating against your flesh. with a devilish gleam in her eyes, she teasingly traced circles near your navel with her thumb, heightening your anticipation.

a groan rumbled in her throat when your fingers gripped her hair, the sensation only spurring her on. her mouth fastened more insistently around your swollen nub, sucking harder as you cried out her name. the strain in your voice confirmed her suspicions: you were on the cusp of your release, and she was eager to push you over.

abby's fingers joined the fray, sliding in and out of your slick folds with practiced ease. her relentless assault on your clit continued, her touch sending shivers through your body and causing your breaths to come in ragged gasps. the sight of you, quivering and exposed before her, stoked a fire within her, a determination to send you flying over the edge.

abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.

"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious once more, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby," your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.

her fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."

the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?

it’s rather short lived, quickly fading into a hazy blur. you threw your head back as her eyes closed, savoring the taste of your ecstasy with a hum, helping you through your orgasm until your body laxs.

withdrawing her fingers, abby admired the sight of your juices clinging to them, a testament to her efforts. a satisfied smile stretches across her face as she reveled in the knowledge that she had brought you to such heights.

she licks them clean, feeling a rush of gratification that only you can provide. releasing her fingers with a soft pop, her lips make way and pave along the curve of your hip, leaving a trail of wet, sticky kisses behind as she moves up to stand before you. “such a good girl..” she mumbled against your skin. you lift yourself up with your elbow, taking a moment to catch your breath, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm that has left you momentarily speechless. you couldn't help, but notice abby’s disheveled appearance as well. untangled, her hair strays from its famed braid, now flowing around her face like a cascade of waves.

but before you could comment on the sight, she claims your lips in a tender, sweet kiss, her hands cupping your face. the connection was brief, and when she pulled away, a grin lit up her features. without another word spoken, she unclothes herself, revealing herself in all her glory. you knew she worked out, but goddamn, did she work out! the determination to achieve the physique showed immensely. in your admiration, you felt the apple of your cheeks warm up, causing you to look away.

"don’t go shy on me, babe," she chided playfully, repositioning your face to meet hers. she seals the deal with another kiss pushing you down gently onto the desk. "lay back f’me, ‘kay?"

with a nod, you comply, watching as the corded muscles in her arms flex as she moves into position, lifting your leg. a grin tugged at the corners of your lips as she placed a tender kiss on your ankle, making her soft chuckle fill the air in return before she securely set your leg on her shoulder.

the moment your wet folds connected, a guttural moan escaped her lips. the sensation was everything she craved, wasting no time in starting a vigorous grinding motion. as she ruts back and forth, she can’t help but mutter curses under her breath, lost in her own pleasure. "fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good." she hisses, throwing her head back. the raw intensity of her emotions written clear as day on her features.

her concentration nearly falters when she glances down, and the sight that met her eyes threatened to make her cum on the spot. the image of your hair spread out across the desk, your bouncing breasts with every upthrust combined with the feeling of your warmth against hers drove her to near insanity.

abby swore she had to be on the edge of a near-death experience, or some type of dejà vu as she gazed upon you in awe, swearing that you resembled a goddess straight out of a mythology book she had once read. though the memory of the goddess’s name was just out of reach, abby couldn't shake the feeling that she had personally seen a painting she once visited come to life in front of her very own eyes.

your hair, freed from its usual up do, was now cascading around your head and spilling off the edge of the desk like an ebony waterfall. your body, unrestrained, was a breathtaking display of femininity. each heaving breath caused your breasts to sway gently, your nipples hardened in anticipation. the way your skin glistened with a thin film of sweat only added to the captivating tableau.

in that moment, abby could almost imagine you as a divine muse from an ancient myth, a vision of beauty and desire. if she didn't snap herself back to reality, the mere sight might have been enough to send her hurtling toward an orgasm. but she had other plans, and she was determined to make them happen.

without warning, abby leaned down, her left hand resting beside your head to brace herself. as her mouth wrapped over one of your taut nipples, her tongue danced over the sensitive bud. simultaneously, her free hand kneaded your other breast, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting her thrusts, and for a moment, it stuttered her pace, a low moan escaping her lips.

"fuck—baby, don't—don't do that," she pleads, filthy groans slipping pass her lips as her hand slides down to your hip, holding you firmly in place as her engorged clit pulsated with building intensity. she was determined to make you cum before she did.

your whispered invocation of her name caused her to glance up at your flushed, disheveled appearance. the sight was a temptation she couldn't resist, and crashed her lips against yours, the feverish kiss mirroring the urgency of your coupling. the closeness and ferocity of both embraces unconsciously synced your movements, hips rocking in unison.

"fuck! abby, i’m gonna cum, please!" your gasps grew heavier and staccato, your forehead pressing against hers as her pace quickened, breaths entwining. normally, abby would step in and reprimand her employees for behaving too freely when seemingly having too much fun. however, in this moment, she actively encourages it, the atmosphere brimming with an intense hunger for it.

"i know, baby, i know." abby's hand found your cheek, stroking it soothingly as if trying to appease your mind to allow what’s inevitable. "cum for me—cum with me," she pants, her pace faltering as she reached her zenith. her arms enveloped you, her hair acting as a curtain around the two of you. guiding you through your release, the slick of your shared pleasure coated your entwined bodies.

once over, abby’s rhythm ceased, and she collapsed on top of you, utterly spent. the weight of the night's passionate encounters bore down, leaving the two of you entwined in the afterglow.

in the act of catching your breaths, it gave abby post-nut clarity. her cheeks reddened, overwhelmed with shame for her past behavior, guilt gnawing at her insides as she realized how much of an ass she had been. it makes her get up, promptly making you sit up, confused.

with a shaky breath, she pushed her hair behind her ear, an expression that was nothing like her usual confident self. "look," she began hesitantly, her voice strained as she struggled to find the right words. unable to meet your gaze, she continued, "i’m sorry for everything. i've been having these feelings, feelings i-i don't even know how to process about you, but i... just wanted to say that i'm sorry for being such an asshole. it was pathetic."

finally, she looked at you, her lips laced in a pout. her confession took you by surprise, leaving you speechless. it was a side of abby you never saw, apologetic.

“asshole is an understatement.” you finally say, laughing softly, an attempt to alleviate the tension in the air, yet it brought no amusement to the receiver. with a quick gulp to clear your throat, you question, “what kind of feelings?” tilting your head to one side.

abby's mouth forms into a tight smile at your lighthearted comment. "they're romantic feelings," she confessed, taking a step forward. she knew the likelihood of your response, but nonetheless continued. "i wasn't lying when i said 'i love you’… but if you don't—" she let out a shaky exhale, the next words stinging. "I'll understand."

unable to suppress an oncoming smile, you take the sight of the usually tough-as-nails abby anderson, now a softie. taking for a moment before responding with a soft voice that leaves abby confused, "you look pretty like this.”

"what?"

"yeah, you should wear your hair down when we go on a date."

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm, @lvlymicha, @brackishkittie, @loveyru

ONESHOT TAGLIST, @st4r-b3rries, @h0pe-scotch, @grey-jedi12, @lucidfairies, @luvmily, @sarahduke, @sc0ttstre3ted, @lonelyfooryouonly, @4pascal, @rew1nds, @viswifetotallyreal, @giuliaexe66, @andersonfilms, @ankle-biter69, @ellieslovr, @wakeupitsdawn, @lavdia17, @donalesaa, @xayn-xd, @brunaedn, @fatamoangana, @drunkonnatasha, @freesmbdy134, @sincerely-forest, @mytwoseater, @starrywilliams, @pinkygirliee

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @mimimar

Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!

I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.

I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.

Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?

Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.

We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 

That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!

I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!

What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?

I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 

I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.

[starheavenly]

hiii!!! loving your locket comics!!!!!! just wanted to ask a few questions about your process, if you dont mind :D

whats your general process like?

do you do thumbnails, how do they look like?

roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

how detailed are your sketches? do you do multiple?

do you have any specific techniques for lineart?

do you typically use references for your comics?

generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

do you have any advice for drawing comics?

sorry for for the absolute bombardment of questions, lmao. just really enjoy your art and comics and very interested in the behind the scenes!! feel free to skip any questions (or this whole ask) well wishes and salutations!!! :D

Hello! I'm so glad you enjoy my comics, and I totally don't mind breaking down the process!

For a normal comic page, I would likely actually write a script since it's much easier to keep track of dialogue and actions. But since these are short, I just write it into my thumbnails.

Step 1: Thumbnails. Easily one of my favorite parts, since I get to throw all my ideas down. I do these comics on a 2-panel grid, so I don't have to worry about actual paneling, and it allows me to focus more on the setup of each shot. Think of it like storyboarding!

Step 2: Add cleaner thumbs if needed. I actually made 3D models of Deadlock and Ratchet's chest in Blockbench, so I often trace them to save myself some time! (It might look insane, but I promise, for me, it's not.)

Step 3: Lettering! I actually like to get the lettering out of the way right away since it can take a while. Ever since I started treating lettering as its own form of art, my skills have gotten better, but it also takes much longer.

Step 4: Clean sketch! I'm just now finding out that people think I’m doing lineart for these? I am not… these are all just clean sketches. Maybe doing the blackwork gives the illusion of lineart?

Step 5: Color! Most of these comics are in black and white to save time, but it also lets me focus on values and shot framing again. I add my glow overlay to the eyes, and boom, done!

Roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

It really depends on how complicated the panels are. I like to step out of my comfort zone. I know the Grimlock and Misfire one took longer because of how many panels there were and the fact that I was drawing characters I’d never drawn before, but I’d say it usually takes around 5-8 hours for a whole page.

Do you typically use references for your comics?

I'm literally the reference GOD- we all know this. But yes, I love using references and doing character studies. I have yet to do a study on LL Drift, but I have a few references of him that I’ve made.

Generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

I mean, I wouldn't say I don't put in a lot of effort? I put in enough. I don't know… there's a point in the clean sketch process where you can kind of just turn off your brain. I'm passionate about comics, but we can all agree there's a point in a drawing where you just zone out.

Do you have any advice for drawing comics?

I think being able to balance dialogue and visuals is super important. I don't know if you guys have picked up a graphic novel from Barnes & Noble recently, but if you open a page, you'll see a character sitting with the biggest bubble you've ever seen, filled with paragraphs of text. While I get it—being a novel as much as it's graphic—I personally like to visualize emotions more. If it means adding two more panels to make an interesting dialogue setup, I don't mind doing it. Another thing to remember is that not all panels need to have details or 100% effort. Sometimes you need to simplify and move on, and that's okay! Those two extra panels that are giving you a better stage setup might be the ones that need fewer details and less time. I would consider my comic page work and my 4-panel work very different. One is about paneling, setup, and visuals, while the other is very much like storyboarding. Both are skills you learn with practice and study.

[purpleph4se]

nsft alphabet - hwei

lukai hwei x reader

warnings | smut, afab!reader, switchy hwei

a/n | can i say how cute he looks in this gif omg i love him sm. but um hello again ykw back again with the most random shit ever. tryna get back to writing slowly but surely, the nsft alphabet is just to dip my toes back into writing since i’ve haven’t i so long. so i got into league of legends which i hate myself for but now im obsessed. i started playing lol for jhin but when hwei came out i was done for. as always enjoy my nonsense.

A - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- oh he’s so soft and gentle. doesn’t matter if he was on top or bottom he would just want to lay with you after, he’s absolutely mesmerized by the afterglow, especially how it looks on you. just wants to hold you close, taking every emotion in. 

B - body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- on you - he could never pick one thing he likes about you just because he simply loves all of you. might sound corny but he loves how you make him feel more than anything, he loves loving you. 

- on him - his hands i think. he’s not self absorbed, but his hands are what help him create his art so he keeps them nice and pretty without really realizing. also he can’t help but melt when you kiss his hands at any moment. and he enjoys the sounds he can pull out of you with just his hands.

C - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- loves to cum inside of you. i feel like it's not even in a possessive manner but he feels more intimate and closer to you. like he’s literally part of you now. likes to cockwarm you after. gets extremely embarrassed seeing it drip out after and offers to clean it up for you  <3

D - dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- oh to be tied up and at your mercy. the desire of being roped and gagged, laid down on the bed and at your utter mercy as begging you with his gaze to straddle his hips and use his cock to your heart's content. he needs you to take your pleasure from him, to use his body to make yourself feel good, while he whines into his gag. 

E - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- little to none i feel. he has had crushes before and small flings (jhin) with partners but it never went far enough especially after the incident. but once it does happen i think he’d take it real slow, to really get to know what he likes and what his partner does, super gentle but quickly learns. 

F - fave position (this goes without saying)

- visual link (nsfw!) = 1 2

- missionary or cowgirl, just any position where he can see your face. he just adores being able to look into your eyes. it just makes it all the more intimate. his arms are wrapped around your torso, your chest pressed up against his as he sloppily thrusts into you, wantonly moaning into the curve of your neck. gets so desperate that not even fucking you properly, just grinding himself into you. loves being able to kiss you and swallowing your sweet noises and vice versa. would live in your skin if he could,,

G - goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous?)

- i wouldn’t say he would make jokes but he’s able to laugh something off and he wouldn’t be bothered if something embarrassing happened. 

H - hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

- not super hairy, the hair he does have is sparse and thin. hes quite bare actually, does do a little self grooming to keep himself neat.

I - intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- so so intimate!!! he doesn’t call it sex or fucking it’s ~lovemaking~ in his book. his main turn on is to show how much he loves you and loves sharing pleasure with you. spoils you from head to toe with adoring kisses, fingers painting the shape of your body as they worship each groove, curve, and imperfection—he whispers quiet praise. to hwei, you are the most precious thing in his life, and he needs you to understand that fact to the very depths of your soul.

J - jerk off (masturbation headcanon) 

- yes and no. my depraved mind is telling me yes, bc i’m just imagining him desperately humping a pillow while whining out your name. but also realistically, he might just be too caught up in his own mind to even think about it, especially if he already has you to take care of him. 

K - kinks (one or more of their kinks)

- praise - he lives to praise you. telling you that he loves you, nudging his face into your neck and moaning, “you’re so beautiful, my love”. and he also thrives off of attention from you, too. poor boy is not used to hearing praise, so when you first tell him, “good boy”, or “you’re perfect”, it sends a shiver down his spine and ensures to pleasure you harder so he can hear it often.

- submission - as well as living to praise you it goes hand in hand with living to serve you. wants to make you feel good at every second of the day, at your beck and call, damn near worships the ground you walk on. (could spend hours in between your legs but i’ll elaborate on that later). but when and if you take control and ~take care of him~ he’s such a good boy and he follows your every command without question. be sure to praise the poor boy to really break him~

L - location (favorite places to do the do)

- his preference is in his own bed or house, where he can be assured that it’s just the two of you and you have all the time in the world together. he’s not really picky about where in your shared home, just as long as he can take his time. however, one days he gets especially desperate for you and he can’t take his time he wouldn’t mind taking you to a secluded little area at koyehn, he’d feel so bad but he cannot deny the thrill of reveling in the desperation.

M - motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- he wants to make you happy all the time, and he’s learned there is no greater bliss than coming undone for one another. so just just knowing he’s got the power to make you writhe and sob with pleasure is enough to get him going.

N - nope (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- would never never hurt you whether it be physically or emotionally, he’d never degrade you or hit you. he cannot bear the thought of hurting you. to hwei, your body is a temple for his reverence and worship—never to be hurt by a violent or cruel hand.

O - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

- hwei prefers giving. not because he doesn’t like receiving it but rather that he just too sensitive (and he’d rather just give you pleasure).

- receiving - he gets rather shy, because of all the noise he makes and just how early and quickly he finishes, often without warning. but of course you don’t mind.

- giving - there’s just something so absolutely beautiful about being able to bring you so much pleasure and listening to your sweet voice rise an octave higher while lapping at your most sensitive parts. he gets so pussydrunk and loves to have you on his tongue for hours. when it comes to skill, he wasn't particularly skilled at going down on you at first. but with a little gentle instruction, hwei now makes your legs tremble and give out with only a few swipes of his talented tongue. sit on his face plz 

P - pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

- it could really depend! usually it’s always slow paced and sensual, almost always containing foreplay to worship you. if you ask hwei he can go faster and treat you a little roughly, but he likes to take his time, enjoying the connection of your bodies completely and thoroughly, his every move laced with sensuality and passion. he likes to find that perfect little spot within you and land every hard, deep thrust right against it, making you shiver and curl your toes. however, if he’s feeling particularly desperate….

Q - quickies (their opinions on quickies, how often?)

- on days he’s desperate and especially needy he would actually initiate a quickie, just one look at the vivid pink swirling in his eyes and you know. both of you often have to cover the other’s mouth to muffle any sounds that try to come out. but you do find yourself braced against the wall with your legs around the painter's slim waist fairly often. he walks out with so much shame afterwards tho.

R - risky (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

- pretty open minded, likes to explore with you in the bedroom. he’s always interested in trying different positions or indulging you with different kinks and scenarios. when it comes to risks, hwei would not do anything to harm you physically or any heavy degradation to you. 

S - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- he really strikes me as someone with low stamina. he's usually spent after one round, poor thing! but you are unbothered by it and hweis lack of stamina certainly doesn't stop him from letting you leave the bed unsatisfied. just because he’s too exhausted for one more round, doesn't mean he can't make you cum in other ways~

T - toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- now let me think of this realistically in runeterra terms…most likely no, simply because the thought hasn’t crossed his mind before and i don't think vibes would exist. but if they did however! and you told him he’d be very interested to try them with you. and also strap ons particularly piqued his interest! 

U - unfair (how much they like to tease)

- once he gains the confidence he can be a little bit of a tease, but he gives in so easily. just one little pout on your pretty lips has him giving in to you. if he does tease you it’s when he worships you which can sometimes be so long and intense, you actually beg hwei to take you already. but if anything, he loves to be teased and wants you to keep teasing him until he’s sobbing for you. 

V - vocal (how loud are they, what noises do they make)

- whining, whimpering, sobbing the whole nine yards babe. poor boy is always in tears at the end. at first he was so shy about the sounds he makes. he went as far as trying to muffle them by kissing you, or burying his face into your neck, releasing only short whines and whimpers every now and again. as he opened up to you heard how he loses himself in pleasure, his volume rises and his moans and whimpers grow in number and intensity, as well as volume. as he nears his peak, his voice often breaks under the amount of raw bliss. and every single sound that leaves his pretty lips is like angelic music to your ears.

W - wild card (random headcanon for the character)

- CUCK ACTIVITIES!!!!!! this is just my depraved mind speaking but him watching you get absolutely ruined by jhin sends him spiraling, his two favorite things putting on such a pretty show. actually just a threesome with both of them is my personal dream, or let’s reverse it, jhin watching as he orders hwei on how to make you feel~ 

X - x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- hwei genuinely thinks he’s not big, it's kinda adorable. he’s pretty long but not all slender, his cock has a curve upwards when it's stiff and the tip takes on that pretty, purplish hue when he's really needy, he's also got a few visible veins running up the length of it that are even more sensitive than he is. he can’t help the pang of confidence he gets when you lower down on him that first time and he sees the way you gasp and flinch as you try to adjust. 

Y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- ranges from standard to low depending how he’s feeling. while hwei enjoys sex, to him it’s only one of the many ways in which he can show his affection towards you. cuddling with you under the covers, opening his heart up to you with hushed whispers in the dead of night—all of these are ways in which hwei reveals his yearning for you.

Z - zzz  (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- it depends! sometimes poor boy is honestly out like a light afterwards, but on other nights he stays up watching you drift off taking the opportunity to trace your body with his hands. admiring the work of art that is you.

[gillanfryingpan]

For The Forgotten Ones is completed, I haven’t read the final chapter yet because I wanted to finish this first

Buddy thank you so much for this wonderful story, I know I keep saying it but it genuinely changed my life. I hadn’t been in the Undertale fandom since about 2017, it was my first fandom experience so it was very special to me, but I left it far behind. at the start of this year I stumbled upon Calcium-cat’s comic based on the first chapter, and I found my way to this fic and read I think seven chapters in one night LOL. I had to stop because it was so late, but afterwards I sat in the dark of my room and just, felt. this fic felt like the peak of the old Undertale fandom, it was almost overwhelming (in the best way). all these emotions and this energy that I hadn’t felt in years all came rushing back it was like magic. like rediscovering the meaning of life. I know that sounds ridiculous and cheesy but Undertale genuinely made me who I am, it was my first fandom, drew my first fanart and wrote my first fan fiction and went to my first con and made friends and discovered this whole community that made me feel like me. and this story is interwoven with all of that. it feels like Home.

because of this fic I gained the motivation to create SO MUCH art, my skills have developed so much and I genuinely love my art now when I didn’t really before. I’ve found my style bc of you :) I’ve also gained an actual following now that continues to grow which is a dream come true since I first joined the internet. and I’ve made so many wonderful friends, I’ve got a group that came together bc of this fic and they’re all such wonderful people that I may never have met otherwise.

I’ve still got so many screenshots and ideas to draw for this fic so I’ll be appreciating it for a long time still, but this is a thank you, a gift and an appreciation for all that you’ve done. you consistently uploaded a sizeable chapter EVERY WEEK which is INSANE, your dedication is so inspiring. you created a beautiful world and characterized all these popular characters so well, especially when mischaracterizations have become the fandom canon atp (looks at Swap Sans,,,) you did so much. you created a family we all adored, we laughed and cried and prayed and joked and created this wonderful community within a wonderful community just to appreciate your words. truly effing masterful. I love For The Forgotten Ones, I will print it out into a book someday soon, to put it on my shelf where I can see it always. Thank you thank you thank you I’ve said so many words and still I feel I have not expressed the depths of my feelings

oh well

I gotta post this sometime lol

ok bye :) 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

(and to anyone else who reads this, this art is also going to be my dtiys event but I’ll make a separate post for that !!!! it’ll be going on until the end of November)

For The Forgotten Ones by Im_Sorry_Buddy

Ink!Sans and Aster by @comyet

Nightmare!Sans and Dream!Sans by @jokublog

Geno!Sans and Error!Sans by @loverofpiggies

Killer!Sans by @rahafwabas

Cross!Sans by @jakei95

Blue/Swap!Sans by p0pcornpr1nce

Dust/Murder!Sans and Phantom!Papyrus by @ask-dusttale

Horror!Sans by @horrortalecomic (Sour-Apple-Studios)

[piftamere]

thirteen - don't get used to it (wc : 1.7k ; cw : suggestive, implied sex, emotional abuse)

track thirteen

atsumu insisted that he had to take her out on a “real date”, just the two of them, so here they are, cramped in a tiny, soft-lit restaurant, hidden away in a quiet street not far from her campus. it’s the kind of place where you’re pressed close, making the tension between them even more palpable.

the thought worried him at first, being here together with how distant she had been these past few days, but he quickly found that the tension was gone.

he doesn’t know what happened to make it dissolve, it’s not like they talked since the party, and he can’t imagine that his humiliating loss or him coming over all bloody are what made their situation better. but when he woke up next to her this morning, she seemed back to her usual self.

the cut on his lip is starting to scab over, but the faint purple bruises on his cheek serve as reminder of last night’s events.

“what’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?” he asks, resting his arms on the table, a playful smile on his lips.

for a split second, she thinks about saying, “well, there was our first date…” but she decides to spare him (this time).

”oh, easy,” she says, leaning forward. “this guy thought he’d blow my mind by taking me to an art exhibition. the worst one i’ve ever seen. the paintings looked like a toddler had a go at them, but this guy was nodding and stroking his chin like he had found the next van gogh.”

atsumu laughs, “he honestly thought that’d impress you? you’re the most critical woman i know.”

“like you know other women.” she scoffs with a smirk, and continues, “he was trying so hard. he even quoted something he read on, i’d guess, the website, and he was making up deep meanings based on nothing.”

atsumu shakes his head, with a grin, “i have to say it’s nice to hear you roast someone other than me for once.”

she grins back. “don’t get used to it.”

here, so close to him he’s worried she can hear his heart pound in his chest, leaning over the small table to whisper jokes at his expense. with her head tilted back, her laugh chases his worries away as if they never existed.

while she’s in the bathroom, he takes care of the check, doing what a gentleman (or someone trying to act like one) would.

“so, how’s your exhibition coming along?” he asks as she comes back to the table, a note of genuine interest in his voice.

she pauses, her hand fiddling with the rim of her empty glass. “good, i think. i’m almost done with a piece, but...” she sighs, her brows furrowing slightly. “something’s missing. i can’t quite figure it out.”

the corners of his mouth tug into a half-smile and he leans in, intrigued, “can i see it? maybe i can help.”

her gaze catches his, slightly surprised by the offer. “um sure.” her voice is hesitant, but still warm, “now? the studio’s not far.”

he slides his card back into his wallet, an enthusiastic gleam in his eyes, “why not?” he stands up, offering her his hand, “lead the way.”

the walk to the studio is quiet but filled with unspoken longing, the kind that buzzes just beneath the skin, that sharpens every sensation, makes every brush of an arm feel deliberate. when their eyes meet, though it’s fleeting, it leaves a warmth that spreads like wildfire, igniting every nerve. atsumu isn’t solely driven by a newfound passion for art, though it’s true he’s starting to see the appeal. part of him wonders if she feels the same. if she too has been haunted by thoughts of him for weeks, the way his have been consumed by her. how they creep in, distracting him during practice or when he’s supposed to study. his mind drifts and he finds himself imagining how her skin would feel, how she would sound, taste.

they spend approximately 2 minutes looking at the painting before the charged air between them betrays the real reason for their presence here. his eyes linger on her more than on the art, a small smile on his lips.

she slips off her heels, murmuring about wanting to be “more comfortable”. her jacket follows, shrugged off with a casual remark “it’s so warm in here don’t you think?” but her gaze, now fixed on him, speaks a language far more suggestive.

she moves toward him, slow and deliberate. he meets her halfway, their lips connecting in a kiss that starts tender, before deepening with an urgency neither can suppress. her hands find his jacket, tugging it off his shoulders with a need that makes his head spin.

guiding him backward toward the nearest table. the paint bottles and brushes roll off in a loud crash as they collide with it. they don’t seem to notice, or if they do they don’t care. she tugs at his shirt and he gets the hint, pulling it off in one swift motion and tossing it on the ground. their breaths quicken, their movements synchronized yet desperate, and soon all of their clothes are in a pile at their feet.

in this moment, she doesn’t think about anything else, her mind only occupied by the feeling of his lips on her skin. and atsumu, he doesn’t care about her mixed signals, the way she’s hot and cold, drawing him in only to push him away. for now, every doubt, every persisting question about her honesty, about the truth of her feelings, melts away. none of it matters. only she does, only the way she feels under his hands, the way her fingers cling to him like she’s holding on for dear life.

~

they’re lying on the floor, draped in a cloth stained with paint. he threads his fingers through her hair, tenderly, as though he’s trying to engrave this moment in his memory. her head rests on his bare chest, as it rises and falls with steady breaths. she seems so angelic in the cool light of the studio. he watches her, captivated, like he’s seeing her for the first time.

the gentleness of his touch unravels something knotted inside her. she thinks about her revenge, how insignificant it seems now. she wonders if it’s worth holding on to anymore. maybe she should let it go, let herself have something nice, regardless of how or why it started. and just maybe, she’s starting to like atsumu. really like him. enough to reach for his hand where it rests against her, intertwining her fingers with his. his grip tightens, slightly, enough to let her know he feels the same.

~

she climbs up the stairs to her appartement, still high on the night she had. when she reaches the final step, she’s harshly brought back down to reality, seeing the person standing between her and her front door.

she looks drunk, and her wide-eyed gaze screams at her to run away, but it’s too late. she walks up to her, the volume of her voice high, her tone already accusing.

“you think you’re too good to answer my calls?”

“mom?” the word slips out, barely audible.

“so you do remember who i am? didn’t think you would.” she spits back.

“i-” she’s struggling to find the words, too stunned to know what to say or do.

“save it." her mother cuts her off, quick and bitter. “you abandoned me. just like your father did. cowards, both of you.”

she stands there, speechless, words stuck in her throat but that doesn’t stop her mother.

“do you even know what you are? you’re heartless. a manipulative, selfish monster.” her voice breaks under the weight of her anger. “i can’t see anyone putting up with your shit. who could? i’m your mother, and even i can barely stand to love you.”

there’s a moment of silence, like the air has been sucked out of the room, and the ghost of a smile tugs at her mother’s lips. like she missed this.

“you’re going to end up alone.” she continues, her words quieter but still as sharp, her breath reeking of alcohol “and when you do, when you’ve driven everyone away, don’t come crying to me.”

and suddenly she’s 12 again. the familiar, suffocating scent of alcohol hangs in the air, mixing with the smell of burnt food coming from the kitchen. her mother’s voice cuts through the room like a blade. her face a furious shade of red, her eyes burning with a hatred too big for her to fully grasp.

her heart thumps against her ribs. she feels so small, shrinking further as her mother looms closer, until she’s backed up into a corner.

she swallows the lump rising in her throat, tears threaten to spill from her eyes but she refuses to give her mother the satisfaction.

so she clamps her lips shut and stares at the floor, wishing herself to disappear into the cracks of the hardwood. she doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. her hands clutch the hem of her shirt tightly.

as quickly as it started, it’s over. her mother storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her. she finally exhales, her breath uneven. her head hurts but she stays stuck in her spot. tears quietly rolling down her cheeks.

as the years passed, the wounds left by her mother’s words calloused over, layer upon layer, until her sadness hardened into something sharper. anger. resentment.

she became an expert at avoiding home. lingering in malls, friend’s houses, libraries, and when she looked old enough to be allowed in, bars. anywhere she could distract herself from the suffocating walls of her house. when she finally turned 18, she packed what little she had and left. quietly, without a note. she didn’t look back, didn’t call. and as terrifying as this newfound freedom was, she could finally breathe freely.

until tonight.

she doesn’t register what happens, too lost in her own mind, lost in a sea of blurred faces, ringing and muffled voices. a hand tries to grip her jaw but something stops it. a masculine voice, shouting, screams, she thinks she hears kageyama. she doesn’t know how long she’s been zoned out, how long he’s been there. the door of her apartment is open, she takes the opportunity to escape, slipping inside and running to her room. she slides down the door after slamming it behind her. her legs have given up on her. she feels sick, her heart’s racing. her hands shake, she can’t breathe.

fun facts

in middle school yn’s art teacher noticed something was wrong, she was sleeping in class, failing her assignments, and he encouraged her to chanel her feelings into art

she started with pottery but she wasn't a fan, she liked smashing them more than making them

yn doesn't mind going on terrible dates because it makes good anecdotes

despite how critical she is, yn secretly loves kitschy, fun art.

there’s a painting of a pop-arty cat in her studio she pretends doesn’t exist but secretly loves.

atsumu saw it and she lied saying someone else must have painted it and mistakenly put it with hers.

kiyoko sent the texts while yn was on her date but she chose to ignore them

author's note

this is a roller coaster lol, the cw for this chapter’s giving me whiplash

when i was proof reading this i saw i accidentally wrote "makes both of his heads spin", a revealing slip of the keyboard lol

i think i'm going to add songs to each chapter, or at least the ones i have a song in mind for

play dumb! - next

taglist : open!

@alpha-mommy69 @bakugouswh0r3 @giocriedpower @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wondipity @iaminyourfloors @na0koz @from-mae @eusaevi @kr1nqu @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @thechaosoflonging @littlemiyastars @seikamuzu @nymphsdomain @r4veeen @shesabeeler @meekydeeks @justanotherweeb666 @bxbygurlisa

if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[lostintransist]

Chiseled Heart | Part 4

AO3 | Part 1

Some days he hated Feather. If killing her would have solved the problem König might have considered it. However, he had been the idiot who failed to notice the provision of his contract with the gallery that required his attendance for at least one hour each show. The buzz of his phone in his pocket alerted him to the end of his contractual time.

If your brain could make sound effects appear in the real world the dial-up tone would be playing as you processed the fact your gym buddy stood in the art gallery that was hosting a show for your favorite artist. He wore a black surgical mask here like he did at the gym, his hair taking on a slightly reddish cast in the lights.

Danielle had come with you to the art show this time, as she is always down for a reason to wear a pretty dress. But how did you explain to your friend that you and your gym buddy had never actually exchanged names? He’d only saved you at least three times and you hadn’t remembered to ask his name. Fuck. You couldn’t believe you had been so inconsiderate!

“Oh! Hi! I didn’t know you liked sculpture,” you smile up at him to cover the realization that you didn’t know how to address him.

At your elbow, Danielle speaks up, “Who’s this?”

You gesture to him, “This is my gym buddy, the one I’ve been telling you about.”

She steps around you, all elegance and grace as she extends her hand.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Danielle.”

He takes it, hand swallowing your smaller friend’s fingers.

“König,” he shakes firmly before returning his hand to his side.

“And obviously you know,” Danielle gestures to you.

Your mind drifts as she continues to talk. Tasting the sounds of his name on your tongue you savor the flavor of it. A touch on your arm clicks you back into the present moment.

“You like King’s Healer, König?” You blurt out the question before you can think to reign it in.

Danielle and König both look at you. Danielle’s face reads ‘I love my friend but you were clearly not paying any attention’ and König’s brows are pulled together slightly, blue eyes looking a tad watery.

“I am done looking for tonigh-”

You cut him off, sadness rising through you like water creeping through a paper towel.

“You’re leaving? Oh,” you give him a small, sad smile. “I guess I will see you at the gym then?”

If deer had blue eyes they could be called König. You winced at the stab of guilt that bounced between your ribs.

“I can stay a bit longer if you don’t mind company?” He offered, hand gesturing back into the room where people mingled.

Danielle sent you an appraising look when you couldn’t prevent a smile from forming.

“We wouldn’t mind the company at all! This is my favorite artist and I’m mostly here to see some of his newer stuff. I am on the email list for the gallery specifically so I can know when his new pieces arrive,” you start further into the room.

You came by nearly every other week to look at the sculptures. King’s Healer captured evocative emotions that ran the gamut. Spinning you sent a grin at your friend and König.

“They put his new things in the big room, he is a major draw. I asked one of the staff once why they put him there. They said that is the room with the most reinforced floor and it pulls people past all of the other artists giving them exposure and boosts sales for everyone on display.” Turning back to watch where you were walking you pull in a deep breath to combat the need to run.

Danielle appeared at your side as you stepped into the large room. Bright lights highlighted the pieces on display. Sucking in a sharp breath you count twenty new pieces.

“Does he ever sleep?” You ask to no one.

“Why do you use he?” König’s voice comes from above your head.

Tipping your head back you see him peering down at you, confusion etched between the hairs of his brows.

Spinning to face him and relieve your neck you consider his question. Danielle squeezed your arm. When you nodded in acknowledgment she drifted off to look at all the displays.

“It’s mostly a feeling.” Movement from behind him alerted you to more people trying to enter the space. Without thinking you laid a hand on his arm and guided him to the side, leaving the doorway free. “Here let’s shift out of the doorway. It’s mostly a feeling I get when I look over all the work. I’ve been following this artist for a few years now.”

Pulling your hand back to yourself you notice König starting at his arm as if you had burned your fingerprints into his flesh through the long sleeve of his shirt. Ignoring it, as every interaction with this man led you to believe that he did not have enough kindness in his life, you go on.

“Whether or not King’s Healer is a man isn’t the point, the art has this,” your fingers curled and shifted as you thought of the word, “Masculine feel to it. Yes, he depicts awful things sometimes but the things that he creates don’t showcase the fears seeded into women’s nightmares like I would expect if he were a woman.” You shrug to end your small tirade as if you hadn’t dumped all your thoughts on this man.

“Do you,” he dragged his eyes up from his arm as he shoved his hand into his pocket, “Have a favorite piece on display?”

Rolling your lips between your teeth you look around, none of these pieces seem familiar.

“I’m going to be so sad if it was bought already,” biting the inside of your cheek you start moving around the room, observing and dismissing each new work of art until you finally duck out of the main room into a smaller, more dimly lit space. There it sat, like a child sent to a corner.

Most sculptures focused on what to leave behind as one created an image. This one did the opposite; the negative space told the story. Nested inside a boot print, large enough that it would require both hands to hold it securely, was the naked footprint of a child. When you had first seen it you had wept. The weeping more came from the story the gallery told by the placement but it still ripped at your heart.

The first time you wandered through these rooms and found King’s Healer’s art this footprint sat opposite a woman being dragged into a thick chunk of stones by many grabbing hands. Her arm stretched out, agony and fear etched across her face and in her eyes. You had studied her first, taking in the craftsmanship and the skills in every hand, different. Some had missing parts of their fingers above a certain knuckle, or the impression of hair on another. When you finally studied her, the woman in pain, you followed her eyes and found the footprint. A child. Her child? The nature of humanity is to tell stories, and the story you told yourself that day brought you to tears. You vowed that day to care for the memory of her child if you could. You saved money each paycheck for this single treasure.

Letting out a sigh of relief you turn and see König staring at the boot print. His shoulders are hunched as if he isn’t allowed by gravity to stand upright.

“Why this one?” His head turns first, eyes still on the art.

When they connect with yours the slut in the back of your mind starts panting. Fuck. You were attracted to him. Mmm. Were you attracted to him or did he just listen to you ramble about art? You could dissect that later.

Shrugging one shoulder you trap the tale behind your teeth. There had to be a lighter way to explain the heavy feelings this caused for you. Directing your eyes back to the boot print you fold your arms as if they could hold back the sea of emotions. His presence at your side settles you, as steady as the moon.

“It’s one of his first works. There is something special to me about it. He’s never done another piece in this style, using the negative space. All of his art tells a story and this one keeps me up at night.” Glancing up at him you find his eyes on you. König looks away, as if ashamed to be caught. “Do you have a favorite bit of art you have seen tonight?”

“Ja, but nothing from King.” His shoulders curled in ever so slightly more than before.

“Really? Would you show me?” You are curious to know what drew his attention.

König straightened so fast you swore you heard something in his back pop. He stared down at you like he had never seen a person before, confusion and awe warring through his eyes.

“Ja,” he nods his head once and strides away. You nearly need to run to catch up to him.

When he notices you take a few seconds to settle next to him before the painting a tinge of pink spreads above his mask.

“Entschuldigung,” he says bashfully.

You wave away what you assume in an apology.

“I’ll take excitement over keeping up most days.”

The painting takes your attention as you glance at it. A lush meadow ringed by great mountains is dotted with flowers.

“Dis reminds me of my oma’s home in Austria,” his tone nostalgic.

Glancing at him and back to the painting you ask your next question.

“Do you miss it?”

König let out a long breath before his answer.

“Sometimes, I doubt the flowers would recognize me if I returned though.”

With your period incoming you couldn’t prevent the rush of tears to your eyes. Trying to be discrete you fanned at your eyes.

“Mm? What is wrong?”

König tilts his head to look at you, alarm evident when he sees your watery eyes.

“Sorry, don’t mind me. Your poetic grief just caught me in a soft spot is all.” Your smile does nothing to remove the worried panic from his brows. “Thank you for showing me. I think though, even if the flowers don’t remember you the trees and the earth will.”

Now König looks like he might cry and to save both of you the embarrassment of being weepy fools you grab his free hand and drag him through the crowd back to King’s Healer’s room. Danielle finds you there as you examine each piece and discuss it with her, König still at your back.

When you have seen everything Danielle turns to you.

“You ready to go?”

“If you are. König, it was delightful to see you. Would you want to walk out with us? I know I delayed you leaving earlier.”

“Ja, I am ready to leave.” He gestured to the door, “I will walk you to your car.”

König leads you and Danielle outside, the balmy weather welcoming you after the heat in the gallery. He opens the door for Danielle who slides in behind the wheel and then follows you to your door.

You chat and laugh with him a moment more before climbing in.

“What was all that laughter about?” Danielle questions you as she pulls out of the spot.

Watching König disappear in the side rearview mirror you fight to form words.

“I bucked up and got his phone number.”

“Damn girl, I didn’t know you liked them so beefy,” she shot you a glance as she commented.

Smacking her arm lightly with the back of your fingers you fight down the mortification that she might be right.

“Neither did I.”

<Got home safe!

>Gut. Rest well.

<🥰

Masterlist | Chiseled Heart Masterlist

@demothers-empty-blog @ang3lc @warlike-morning

[hiraethwa]

to be loved is to be known

zero; i was made for loving you // from a distance

<the collection — to be loved is to be known>

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst to fluff, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, blasphemy, soon to be married and then divorced!reader, not very canon timeline compliant if you squint

wc. ~600

lucky is to have you. lucky is something i am not.

kageyama tobio thinks he must be born cursed. that or the gods just enjoy playing cruel pranks on him to see him flounder about and suffer as he flits around in the palm of their hands. 

because how else would one explain missing the person who he’s been waiting for by years, not just once, but twice? he swallows the feeling that is bubbling up in his throat as he watches you give him a thumbs up on the sidelines, eyes catching onto the glint of gold on your finger. 

yeah, he decides bitterly, they must be toying me for their own amusement. 

he remembers the first time he met you as clear as day, introduced by kuroo tetsuro—the gods-favored one who had been blessed not only to have the fortune of meeting you first, but also managing to claim your heart as his in the process. 

he had seen you in passing a handful of times, heard of your name on the same stage as him, your names endlessly intertwined together. as if you were two sides of the same coin despite never having properly interacted before. 

if he was being honest, he had been mildly irked at the constant comparison. the articles, doing their analysis of “genius setter kageyama tobio vs strategic setter oumae y/n”, goes on and on about your technical prowess (which is almost on par with him) and your strategic plays (purportedly better than his own), all concluding with a question—will you surpass him as japan’s best setter? 

not to mention, you are the people’s darling, all smiles and sunshine, even-tempered and ever so delightful to be around, unlike the storm that accompanies him whenever he is off court. 

though when kuroo-san personally requested for his help, he found his own curiosity piqued. considering that he is indebted to kuroo-san for all that he had done to help karasuno grow into their wings years ago, how could he reject his request?

besides, kageyama had his own questions for you. he found himself looking up replays of your games on youtube after going to one of your matches with hinata and his younger sister, mesmerized by your skills as a setter. despite the minor annoyance he had with the media, he quickly came to agree with their shallow assessment.

“oumae y/n, nice to meet you.” your words were polite, that dazzling smile that wins everyone over to your side making its first appearance. “i’ve been dying to meet you since i saw you play a couple of years ago. your precise sets are a work of art, and i’m sure you’ve been told this, your serves are godly.”

somehow you almost, almost remind him of oikawa tooru, if not for the sincerity behind your words, the stark contrast to oikawa-san’s habitual disingenuous tone. 

despite himself, a faint smile made its way onto his face—one of many, many more that you will pull out of him in time. 

“i’ve heard some things, but godly, that’s a first.” and you had fucking beamed at him like a bright sunny day, like a fan meeting their idol for the first time. he supposes that it was exactly that, if you had been following him for a while. 

you went on to pepper him with questions about his serve, showing him how you do it, and asking him to correct your form.

he wishes he could chalk it all up to falling in love at first sight. at least then he would have been able to blame it all on illogical emotions that do not have a basis for why he fell for someone who is taken. 

but the gods do not favor kageyama tobio, for they curse him so, bestowing the fate of koi no yokan upon him—what was supposed to be a magical feeling of knowing that you are meant to fall for them inevitably, with a cruel twist just for him. 

and he knows, fuck the gods, he knows more than senses the light flutter of his dormant heart awakening to you. 

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon (open! ask for taglist)

a/n. might have lost my mind writing lovesick tobio but it was worth it <3

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy hearing about how i break hearts a little too much)

[linos-luna]

Hi gorgeous 💞

I hope you're doing well (I was worried af)

If it's not too much to ask but my birthday is on 14th March so can you write a yandere hyunjin x f reader smut where the reader who is already held hostage is given a gift by hyunjin (just surprise me with your writing girl)?

I would seriously appreciate it from my heart ❤️

Wanna see a manipulative, toxic and delusional hyunjin in love with me 😩

Bye 👋

Sorry it’s late! I’ve been so busy! 😭

Happy late birthday 🎊

———————————————————

Work of Art 🔪

Yandere!Hyunjin x Reader

Warnings: Yandere!, 18+, slight Stockholm Syndrome?, Slapping, Hair pulling, Emotional manipulation

—————————————— 💞

It’s been two months. Two months since you lost your freedom. Hyunjin was obsessed. He wants you to keep you in his home forever. If he goes out, he handcuffed you to the bed frame. Although lately he hasn’t done that. Probably because now you don’t move. You seemed to have given up on trying.

The days blended together so you didn’t even realize that today was your birthday. You stayed in bed until noon, only waking when some light from the window hit your face. You sat up, only to see Hyunjin standing at the door. Watching.

“Good morning, my love.” He said with a soft smile. “Today is a special day!”

“What….?” You mumbled.

“How could you forget?! It’s your birthday, silly!” He chuckled while going to you and leaning in to kiss you.

You were silent, actually surprised that you forgot your own birthday.

The man stroked your hair as he waited for your kiss although you didn’t budge. This seemed to frustrate him and he pulled your hair so your lips touch his. “Y/n!” He whined.

Reluctantly, you kiss him. He bit your lip and kissed you with lots of passion.

Sure you kissed back but not with as much vigor as him. This only hurts his heart.

“Y/n! I don’t understand…” he whined. “why…? Why won’t you love me like I love you!”

“Hyunjin, you kidnapped me!”

“Because I love you!”

“This isn’t love!!” You interrupted. “This… this is hell!”

“No no no… i-I’m sorry! It shouldn’t be!” Hyunjin frowned and dropped to his knees while holding your hand. “I only wanted to show you love and cherish you. I want to spoil you!”

“Hyunjin—”

“I’m sorry, y/n…” He pouts, giving you sad eyes, “I-i never meant to hurt you…”

“Hyunjin… you—!”

“No no I'm awful!” He interrupted while starting to cry. “I-I just want someone to love… I-I’ve never had someone love and care like you do. You’re so genuine and kind…”

He continued rambling. From his rough upbringing to his desire for love. He’s all alone in this world and it had your heart breaking for him.

“I-I have a gift for you…” he said softly. “Please. I worked so hard on it.”

“O-okay…” you nodded reluctantly.

Joy lit up his face and he quickly left the room. As soon as he left, the tears were gone. It was as if he flipped off the emotion like a light switch. Instead, he smiled to himself.

Hyunjin came back in the bedroom with a canvas. You were a bit confused until he turned it around. It was you. A painted picture of you sleeping. The style made you look angelic.

It was beautiful but also unnerving. When did he paint this? Was he watching you while sleeping? Every minuet detail of your features was there. Every mole and blemish was painted in great detail.

“Wow, Hyunjin… it’s very nice.” You said slowly while studying it. You couldn’t lie, it really was an amazing painting.

“Oh, my love. I’m glad you love it!” He smiled. “I worked so hard to capture your essence! You truly are a work of art!”

You couldn’t help blushing. You’ve never had a compliment like that and it was giving you butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you, Hyunjin… I-I really do love it…”

“Oh good!” He was excited as he leaned in close. “Please, my love. May I kiss you?”

There was a moment of silence before you nod.

———— 💞

Dinner was a bit awkward. You sat in silence as he fed you.

“Do you like it?” He said suddenly.

“I do but… Hyunjin I can feed myself.”

“No darling. Don’t worry about that.” He said while putting more meat on the fork.

“No really—…” you grab the fork from him, about to raise it to your mouth before he suddenly slapped it away.

“Hyunjin—!”

Before you could finish, there was a swift slap to your face.

“No! Only I can feed you!” Hyunjin yelled suddenly.

You held your cheek in shock, too stunned to speak.

“Oh I’m so sorry!! My love, I'm sorry!!” He suddenly switched up and got to his knees, dropping the bowl of food to the ground, but he didn’t seem to care.

“No! Don’t cry! Don’t be mad!” He begged while grabbing into each side of your hair and pulling you close. “Please forgive me! I love you!”

“A-agh! Hyunjin!” You whimpered as he tugged harder.

“My darling. My sweet girl, please!”

He pulled harder, making you drop from your seat to the floor.

“J-Jinnie! You’re hurting me!!”

“W-what?!” He paused, still holding onto your hair. “No! No im not!!”

“Jinnie stop!”

“No you stop!” He yelled. “I love you! I’m just trying to love you!!” His voice broke as tears formed and it made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hyunjin…”

“No! You don’t love me!” He sobbed. “I-I thought I finally found my soulmate… one that will love me as much as I love her!” Hyunjin wiped some tears while looking at you. “I-I’ve never had that kind of love. My M-mother left! A-And father would beat me! I-I only wish you give the love I never received!”

Whether this story was true or not -it’s not-, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But his vulnerability and tears tugged at your heartstrings.

“Hyunjin….”

“No! Just go!” He cried. “Just leave me! Leave me all alone! I’m used to it!” He pulled some keys from his pocket and threw them in front of you.

You were frozen in place. You felt awful. Pure guilt. How could you hurt him like this?? All he wanted was love. You felt like a monster.

Without much thinking, you hugged him tight. “I-I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin leaned into your hug, making himself look as small and vulnerable as possible while continuing to weep.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” you whispered while rubbing his back.

“C-can I… can I give you a bath?” He asked softly. “I-I wanted to spoil you with a little… at home spa…”

You pulled away and looked at him. Here he was crying and expressing his deepest emotions and traumas, and yet he was still thinking of you. He was still wanting to spoil and shower you with love.

You only nodded and Hyunjin smiles before kissing your forehead and leaving to the restroom, getting some of the soaps and candles ready.

It made you feel guilty. Perhaps you have this all wrong. He really does have a good heart. Perhaps you’ve never experienced real love. Maybe… this is what true love is.

Hyunjin had no more tears. This face had cleared up so fast as soon as he entered the restroom. In fact he had a smile. A satisfied one, like a spoiled child that got his way. It was just too easy.

Hyunjin walked to the bedroom, grabbing a robe for you, stopping by the painting. He took a deep breath while running his fingers along your painted nude body.

He turned back to the restroom, mustering up some tears red cheeks before calling out to you.

"Come on, my love! The bath is ready!'

[kelin-is-writing]

kelin may i hear more about rockstar touya \(★ω★)/

I was planning to post other headcanons before going for these, BUT I’ve got some for Rockstar!Touya that are pestering my mind these days and your asks come in the right moment, so bear with me please 🤧

࣪𖤐… ROCKSTAR!TOUYA

The first time Touya knew that he wanted to become a rockstar was in middle school, right at the age of thirteen, his influent CEO of a father was trying to mold him into a carbon copy of himself to rival Yagi Toshinori’s Enterprise. While taking a break from studies, he saw his sister watch on TV a rock concert of “Loudness” and to say Akira Takasaki is his role model is the least. That’s a true legend to him.

After “Loudness” and Akira Takasaki, he discovered “Metallica” and Kirk Hammett which made him go like “HOW??? HAVE??? I??? MISSED??? ALL??? THIS???”, scolding himself for taking so long to fall in love with the electric guitar and its sound. The next week he’s blasting full volume “The Final Countdown” by Europe inside the Todoroki Mansion like the good old stamp rock fanatic he is, getting himself scolded and grounded by Enji who is a fan of traditional Japanese music so yeah…

At one of the Todoroki family gatherings during the weekend, he was scrolling down his phone looking first of all where to take guitar lessons and second for a guitar to buy, but he knew his father would never agree to get him one. That’s when his grandfather, peeking at his grandson’s phone, butted in and asked Touya if he’s interested in music. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing to answer that question, since he’s the father of his father, but he did and hell has it been the best thing he did!

On his fourteenth birthday, Enji’s father bought Touya his very first electric guitar, a good old Fender Stratocaster CUSTOM MADE for him. It’s snow white like his hair and has a his name engraved on the bottom left side of the guitar, while on the other side there were engraved tiger’s fangs, all in turquoise… The color of his eyes. And this has been by far Touya’s best birthday ever.

After finishing Middle School he choose to attend an Art School, taking the music classes as main classes of course; he may or not have done it to piss off and raise Enji’s blood pressure from how mad he got for choosing something different from Finances and Management. Oh his father was livid and Touya was so proud of himself for that.

He has formed a rock band, of which he’s the guitarist and vocalist, with Tenko Shimura (Bassist&Vocalist) and Shuichi Iguchi (Drummer) called “The Villains”… Are we even surprised about this name? Really? Because I am not. Tenko suggested, Iguchi supported strongly and Touya just went with it because complaining and thinking about another name was “Too much effort”. He likes it a lot but will never admit it.

At the age of nineteen, Touya owns a Fender Stratocaster (Custom Made), an Elite Stratocaster, an ST-83-80 Japan (1983) black, Lone Star Strat, IC350 black, IC50 black, ICHI00 white, Gibson SG Standard mahogany and a Jackson Pro Series DK Modern HT6 MS. He also owns four acoustic guitars for songwriting, like a Martin GPC-X1E, Martin 000-28 Modern Deluxe, Taylor GS Mini-e Rosewood SN LTD and a Taylor AD22e. Did he pay all them with Enji’s credit card? Hell yeah. Did he do it out of spite? Absolutely. Did he care about his father’s blood pressure rising even more? Not even remotely.

His favorite groups are Loudness, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Europe, Scorpions, Slipknot, Three Days Grace, Green Day, Skillet, Linkin Park, The Rasmus, L’Arc-En-Ciel, UVERworld, Nirvana, Guns N’ Roses and Evanescence to list some, because there are many more he adores honestly. He isn’t a picky ear as long as the song gives him chills and inspires him, being someone who’s driven by emotions that’s what makes him likes something he hears.

Atsuhiro is their homeroom teacher, at the Art University they attend, who introduces them to Giran, a friend of his, who has an agency for new talents and after they sent him six of their songs wants to launch their very first album by August to make them debut at the “Rock In Japan Fes.”

Touya, being the emotional driven type of musician, is the one put to write the lyrics for the band’s songs and most of the times are hits, especially because his and Tenko’s voice brings to life the emotions of the lyrics in a way that it reaches the listeners right into the heart and soul.

You will never catch Touya’s fingers empty, there’s always rings decorating them and some rings are even custom made by his cousin Geten, who owns a Jewelry shop that he promotes a lot on his social media. One of his most precious rings is the one that he got made for him, with his birthstone carved in it, when he turned eighteen.

He has three earrings on his right ear: an helix, mid helix, conch and low helix. Four on his left one: two helix, a low helix and one on the lobe, plus three nostril piercings on the right side of his nose.

After “The Villains” debuts and proving his father that he could succeed through music without his help nor his name, Touya owns now a black card that he lets Fuyumi and Shoto use to their heart content.

Last, but not least, be ready to be the muse of Touya’s songs the instant he falls head over heels for you. The moment it happens everything, and I mean everything, to him becomes about you driving Tenko and Iguchi to pure exasperation.

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 ୨୧•❣•

felix catton x reader

summary: after seeing felix continuously surrounded by girls at his birthday party, you try your hardest not to get drunk on jealousy.

contains: jealousy, angst, fluff? oh, and like a million references to drinking.

a/n: this one's for all my fellow retroactive jealousy girlies out there! yey mental illness! wrote most of this at 2am so don't mind the elusive ending.

word count: 0.8k

the cicadas have been droning on for what feels like an eternity as you wait for felix beneath the minotaur statue at the maze’s heart. the inky sky above you stretches on beyond the garden walls, fractured by an array of white-hot stars. you cross your arms, tap your heel briskly against the earth, indicating your frustration to no one but yourself. all night you’d watched girl after girl fawn over felix, linking their arms into his own, batting their lashes with an evident goal. you couldn’t watch any longer, stomping away towards the maze, wishing for nothing more than to get so lost you would never be found. nevertheless, you have been. 

“so this is where you’d disappeared to.” felix sighs, golden angel wings glimmering in the moonlight. “i’ve been looking for you all over.”

“surprised you even noticed i’d gone.” you scoff.

felix purses his lips. “i’m sensing some tension. what have i done now, hm?” 

he cocks his head at that, a confused look about his features. he holds up an offering, a bottle of fine wine he’s clearly been helping himself to. you refuse it, try teasing him to forget your emotional turmoil, but it comes out all wrong. “wouldn’t you rather get drunk with your fan club?” 

felix wastes no time towering above you, a gentle hand clasping your chin, a soft pair of lips pressing your own. “are you jealous, love?” he asks, and you can practically hear his smirk. “this has to be cutest thing. sure, maybe they were a little enthusiastic, but you know i only have eyes for you.”

“oh, hush!” you whine, swatting his hand away. “why don’t you go bother one of your girlfriends.” you know you’re being petty, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i only have one.” he says, voice gravelly and stern. “and don’t you forget it.”

felix has grown to be well-versed in the art of comforting you. he knows you often feel insecure or not worth his time, a concept he will never truly grasp, in spite his best efforts. what he doesn’t know is the gut-wrenching feeling of imagining your lover leaving you for someone else. the knowledge that he loved someone else before you, who knows how many. you try to fight it, remind yourself this is a natural thing and in no way his fault.

“i’m sorry.” you click your tongue. “i don’t mean to be annoying or toxic.” your voice takes on an edge, a subtle quiver only a trained ear such as felix’s could detect.

“hey, none of that.” he playfully scolds, enveloping you in strong arms. “you’re the only girl for me, you know that. i’ll remind you as many times as you need.”

“why do i feel like this?” you asked. “you’re nothing but understanding and loyal.”

he gives you a warm smile, plants a kiss atop your head. “it’ll pass, love. trust me.” there’s a silence so heavy neither you knows how to break it.

“want a drink?” he asks, holding up the wine. felix smirks as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. perhaps a bit of humor will do the trick. “in a way you’re kind of an alcoholic, you know, only drunk on jealousy.” 

you give him a roll of the eyes and a faux laugh. “at least i’m not an actual drunk.” you tease as you take the bottle from him. 

“we all have our faults.” he jests. “you feel better?”

“sort of.” you sigh, but you realize it’s a lie as you start to spiral once again. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to harness those feelings of yours that lead you to this state. the jealousy that feeds you manufactured visions of felix`s past, one where he was happier with someone who wasn’t you. one where another person slept on your side of the bed, touched him the way you do. you know it isn’t real (not anymore), but the mind can be quite a convincing thing —

“love?” you hear felix say, and suddenly you’re on a staircase; your makeup is fresh, the night still young. “you look amazing!” he says proudly as he takes a drag of his cigarette. it’s the first he’s seen of you this evening, and he can’t stop himself from drinking in the sight before him. it was all in your head. now the party has just begun and your mind will not stray. the vicious cycle will not repeat itself. there will be no comforting, no drying of unnecessary tears tonight. you will focus on the man, the angel before you and steer clear of the maze of jealousy. yes, you will get drunk tonight, drunk on open-mouthed kisses, drunk on someone who wants you and only you.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

[ffc1cb]

new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle. 

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right. 

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation. 

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change. 

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down. 

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.