#but drawing art and looking at content for this makes me sooo happy and i hate that i have to force myself away from it

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Lol I'm having an anxiety attack so I'm doing that thing where I go on social media to distract myself and pretend like the actual world isn't wording around me, and I keep coming across Gravity Falls content that makes me SO happy so essentially I'm just like

"Oh god. Oh god. I feel like I'm suffocating. I'm drowning- AWWW LOOK AT BABY BILL CIPHER. My world is ending and I'm standing on debris waiting for a tsunami- AWWW STANLEY PINES IS BEING ZAINY AGAIN. God, I love that guy!!! Existence is pain."

[slvtforasht0n]

Jealousy, jealousy

title inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s track on Sour

.✦ || Boyfriend!Ash x Reader

.✦ || This is your first time being a stagehand at your boyfriend and his band’s show. Even though you couldn’t watch him perform, a particular interaction between him and a female fan piqued your interest. You couldn’t help but look, ought to see what’s happening. Instead, jealousy gets the better of you once you see what’s really going on, your mood permanently shifted. At least, that’s what it felt like.

A/N: first half is highly based on that one interaction that happened in the 5SOS diaries. forever jealous of that girl lol. anyway, i hope you like what i’ve brought out for you for my first post ever. kinda always wanted a tumblr account to post every idea or blurb i get, but ya girl can be very very lazy sometimes.

inspired to write smut ever since i had wattpad. saying this loud and proud. loved duplicity, stall and malignant so there’s that random fact (turn it up for all the other harries/directioners reading this)

i don’t write that much so i’m still trying to improve wherever i need to. ps. english isn’t my first language, so if you do spot grammer/vocab mistakes, it’s not on me sista, still learning:3 sooo i guess i’ll just finish it off by saying this; sit back, relax and enjoy :^)

CONTENT WARNING: fluff & smut, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), spitting, sliiiight dirty talking

WORD COUNT: 5,2k

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As much as you hate your boyfriend in this moment— he wriggled his way to here. His hands all over your frame, reaching to every spot he can find, almost as if his hands have a mind of their own.

His kisses grow more impatient, needy and full of want. Drawing gentle circles against the small strip of bare skin on your back, making you both break the kiss apart with a small gasp.

You weren’t sure of your emotions. Did you want to continue and make him have his way with you? Or did you want to push him away and strangle the living hell out of him?

A faint whimper escapes your lips in between the kiss, his hand traveling down to the heat between your clothed legs. That feeling alone begs to differ. As much as you don’t want to admit to it. You still have that small abhor, but also intense jealousy from what happened prior to all of this.

He breaks the kiss apart, his eyes finding yours. The hazelly green forest almost dispersed into his black pupils, blown out and primed. Fuck… you think to yourself. He looks so provocatively striking, like an erotic sex-god, which is enough to drive you wild— both in a good and a bad way.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” He prompts, his hands finding your waist again to pull you in closer, showing you how induced he is, the want and need inside of him written all over his face.

—

This day has been…chaotic, booked, a haywire of physical and mental exertion that drove you into madness. Almost. You only had a 20 minute break before going back to work, crew following along, five different people guffing into your earpiece that just rubs you the wrong way. Being irritated isn’t even slightly nearing to what you’re actually feeling.

Finally, you walked inside the venue, a moment of calm before the storm. Happy you can let your guard down for another minute or two. You take a deep breath, moving scenery and props along with two other crew members, joining in after your one true moment of silence.

Being a stagehand at a show of your own boyfriend is uncommon, just something you’re not really used to. You’re not sure if you’re able to keep your cool seeing Ashton on stage, beating those drums expertisely, face etched into pure concentration. You always found it to be a work of art, to see your boyfriend practicing at home or somewhere that isn’t on a stage.

But hey, you bite the bullet once it’s showtime, having to face away from the stage, meanwhile he’ll be there to steal the show.

The crew had cued that the band arrived several moments later, and as much as you want to run away to find him, you’re still stuck planning, discussing and arranging tonight’s act.

Hours have passed on and exhaustion seemed to get the better of you. The small gig now filled with a couple of thousands of fangirls, boys, moms, dads, you name it. Two thousand to be exact. You’re not sure if it makes you intrigued, or uncomfortable. Either way, you find yourself lucky you’re not in that crammed crowd.

Playing more intimate, smaller shows was out of the ordinary for the band, something they wouldn’t have done a year ago or two.

The show has started not long after, and your back is facing the stage, eyes on all of these screaming fangirls for their idols in front of them, hands in the air, phones recording, but mainly their loud screams that’s luckily muffled by your in-ears. All you could do is focus on the beat of the drums, imagining his every movement of prowess, how trickles of sweat is already forming on his forehead.

You don’t have it in you not to look, so you do. Just the smallest of sneak-peak. Though, his eyes immediately found yours, like all of his focus was on the back of your head this whole time. Your heart starts to pound faster against your chest, turning your head back to the crowd ahead. Just keep your cool… keep your cool— You have to remind yourself every minute. Or rather every second.

You’re glued to the spot, making sure everyone’s safe and sound. However, there’s a small interaction going on between a fan and… Ashton. His voice being heard through the microphone gives you some sort of solace, your focal point on every pronunciation and syllable on the words that falls from his lips.

This particular interaction is focused on the fan’s cardboard sign, stipulating that it’s her twenty first birthday and now legal to drink, suggesting Ashton a shot. They expeditiously agree and brought the stunned girl up stage. Your eyes followed hers, turning around to look at the stage ahead. You didn’t have the heart in you to dismiss this and act like nothing’s going on.

Ashton’s change of demeanour, presence next to this fan, and just the overall vibes he’s got going on throws you right off the wall. It’s like he’s throwing her a curveball of coy behaviour, something that doesn’t sit right with you. It’s either that or you’re overthinking it. But then again, you might not be, especially having your eyes glued on him right now, watching him unfold into someone he’s not.

You hate it. You hated every second of it, watching the scene ahead. She gets to be the one giving your sweaty boyfriend a hug, a prolonged hug. Sharing a shot, looking into his eyes- him looking into her eyes. It’s like hot steams are blowing out of your ears by how much you hate seeing this with your own eyes. If it were possible, you’d throw Ashton’s drum kit right to his head out of spite and anger. You can’t believe him.

You’re definitely not overthinking, since you’ve picked up on him being ‘the man of the show’. Trying to seem more charming and appealing, in all the wrong ways. You know he loves getting this type of attention, boosts his ego in the wrong way and you’d love to just kick him right in the nuts.

Once the show’s over, you’re finally in your own privacy, changing your uniform to your day to day outerwear. A knock is heard on the door, catching you out of your hazy thoughts, while also feeling jealous and incensed. You open the door and you’re immediately knocked down with a feather.

“What are you doing here?” you utter, laced in a grim tone, not expecting to see his cheery face. Ashton stands in front of you, eyebrows raised by your surprising outburst.

“Checking in on my girlfriend. What else would I be doing?” He responds nonchalantly, entering the small room without needing to ask for permission. Of course he wouldn’t.

He runs a hand through his damp curls, looking around the room before looking back to you. It’s like he struggles to read you and why you’re not responding to him, why you’re facing away from him. “Hey…” He starts off, walking up to you and placing his hands on your waist, making you turn around to face him.

You push his hands off your body almost immediately, his eyes on stalks. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he counters, his eyes searching yours.

The more he acts this oblivious, the more you want to give into the idea of kicking him in the nuts and walking out of this room. You decide to just tell him before he’s going for the the well known question ‘are you on your period?’.

“The fuck was that up stage?” you angrily mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

He seems confused, which is one more reason to be angry at him. How can he be so painfully heedless? You desperately need to just knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

“What?” he raises his arms in an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ motion.

“Oh, so now you’ve got memory loss? Great.” you roll your eyes, facing the other way instead of him. Again. How can a human being manage to piss you off this much? It’s inane.

“Amore… tell me.” He waits for you to say something, anything at all, but all you do is stand there and glare, causing him to take a step closer to you. “Was it the girl who I did a shot with?”

Bingo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes again, as if it wasn’t that obvious why you’d be mad at him about that in the first place.

“Oh come on… Nothing happened, alright? Just did her a favour and probably made her whole night.”

“Yeah, right.” You bite back immediately, not buying any of the bullshit he’s spitting. You can’t even look him in the eyes. You’re deranged in anger, but also so confused and hurt. He’d never gone this close to a girl before in all the months you’ve been dating, so he surely needs to understand why you’re acting the way you are.

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?” he murmurs, managing to boil your blood to the point you could burn anything you touch into ashes.

“Are you kidding me, Ash?” you poss in vexation, glaring through his soul. Words can’t express how tense you’re getting and how much you want to wipe that foolish smirk off his face.

“Babe, you can’t be serious, can you?” He sneers, his eyes giving you a once over. You only let out a frustrated sigh, turning your back to him a third time.

You don’t know what he deserves more, a sucker punch right to his jaw or the infamous silent treatment. Maybe both could give him a well-earned reality check.

“Are you seriously mad about some measly fucking interaction? Really, Y/N?” he huffs, seeming more annoyed than amused this time. Which makes you, on the other hand, infuriated by even more rage.

The way he acts so unbothered is insufferable. You turn on your heel, facing him, an angry etched expression on your face he certainly can’t dismiss now. “You were flirting with her, you ass! Right in front of me!” You bark back, sick of his apathetic state. Just utterly sick of him.

“I wasn’t, Y/N! Why would you even think that?” he retorts, his obliviousness turning into annoyance, his arms now crossed over his chest as well.

You don’t respond, only letting out a spiteful scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I really don’t see what’s wrong here. You have no reason to be mad at me. None.” he mutters, which is just the cherry on the cake, isn’t it? You let out another angry huff before turning on your heel and leaving him in the room, despite it being yours.

However, you’re not as quick as you thought you were as he catches your wrist, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t run away from me, baby. None of that bullshit. Talk it out with me, curse me out, just don’t ever shut me out, okay?” he calmly explains, his eyes trained on yours with his eyebrows creased together in concentration on you. Only you. You take a deep breath, flicking your eyes in between his.

“Why were you flirting with that girl?” you ask after a long pause, your eyes focusing on that one curl that fell on his forehead.

“I wasn’t.” He responds, and it just made you feel even more obscured from this ridiculous situation that brought tension between you two.

You’re starting to think you might be overdoing it. Might be a bit of the jealous kind and just making this ought to paint you to be dramatic.

“Is that all you have to say?” you mask getting offended by his short, incoherent reply, just by answering repulsively back.

“What more can I say then? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.” He crosses his arms again, and it just messes with your head on what type of emotions and feelings are coursing through him. What his thought process is, ‘cause he’s doing everything he can to dismiss the issue. Dismissing your feelings that are as valid as can be. At least that’s what you wanna think.

“Never mind.” You pull away from his grip, sitting down at the nearest couch. You’re done trying to argue to a wall, because that’s the position you feel like you’re in, feeling trapped in a loophole if he continues to act this clueless.

He looks over at you, no remorse whatsoever, and that somehow rises more anger out of you, though you make sure you keep your poker-face. There’s no point anymore if he won’t try to understand you.

“Are ya really just gonna sit there and stare?” he asks. But after a long pause, he just knows there’s not going to be a reply.

“Silent treatment won’t solve anything, love.” he adds, looking at you across the room, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his hand through his hair again.

“Y/N…Just quit it already, will ya?” he grows more annoyed and impatient by your attitude. However, nothing will make you utter out a word again. Not when he at least attempts to apologise.

“Fuck’s sake, Y/N… I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, alright? I wasn’t flirting with the girl- would never do that.”

You think to yourself you might have overexaggerated on wanting an attempted apology, cause it just pisses you off even more.

“Talk to me…” he prompts, taking a few steps closer to you.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as some sort of indication to stride closer. He takes your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and cupping your jaw, making sure you look him in the eyes. “Please?”

You hate him. You hate him so much you’re becoming a tough nut to crack, and he’s fully aware of that. He knows how stubborn and jealous you can get over the smallest things. Still, you don’t know where his mind is.

He pulls you in for a kiss, connecting his lips with yours, catching you by surprise. His hands are trailing down your body and reposing on your waist, pulling you closer than before.

If this is how he ventures his way out to say sorry to you, when you can’t take it as a simple word, you’re not…entirely against it.

You stare profoundly into his eyes after he breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours—But your feelings are very conflicting. You so want to give in, but you’re still mad. And you still hate him. Well, you’re trying to make yourself hate him.

It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve uttered out a word, but that’s none of your concern as you pull him in for another heated kiss, your hand finding its way through his tousled hair, earning a soft groan on his end. His tongue slips out and swipes at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth as you oblige immediately.

He has you fully wrapped around your finger. You can’t even be mad at him anymore, even if it’s play pretend.

His hands are on your waist, but it didn’t take long before one hand slips between your legs, making you instantly weak in the knees.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” replays in your mind over and over when you brought him in for another desperate kiss, pouring out all of your feelings and love for him. The way he said it, the desperation in his voice and his dilated eyes— you can never say no to that. You need him.

You’re a hot mess, letting out huffs of pleasure as he continues to palm you through your jeans, like an attempt to hear you, even if it’s not through articulated words.

He pulls away from your lips, traveling his heated series of kisses down to your pulse-point, eliciting another hot whimper out of you. You’re dazed and all you want is more. More of him. Just more.

He hoists you up, your legs immediately clinging around his hips as he leads you towards the small couch, laying you down and hovering his body over yours.

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, carrying the grace of dawn and the mystery of dusk. Your eyes wandering over every feature of his face, just taking him in. He bites back a smile, his eyes lingering on your chest, then back to your eyes. “Want me to make you feel good, yeah?” his voice is ragged with desire, low and husky that has such a toll on you.

He goes back in for a fervent kiss before you could even respond, pouring out all of his love for you that makes you forget the anger you once had a thousand times more. Your hands wander over his shoulders, all the way down to his hips, pulling him in closer, trapping him in between your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a low grunt in between the kiss, his hips grinding against your heat, drawing out another small sound out of you. His hands that has a mind of its own fondling your breasts through the thin material of your shirt, like he couldn’t get enough of you and he physically needs more. You want more of him too, totally entranced by him, the heat of desire pooling in between your legs with an intensified want to have him in ways that’s unrefined. He moves towards the crook of your neck again, marking you up as his.

You’re already impatient as is, your uncoordinated fingers fumbling with his belt, like you can’t stand seeing him in clothes for another wasted second. He lets you, still immersed in marking your neck up, making sure there are angry marks left behind.

Once you’ve found the zipper of his tight jeans, you tug the material down, his hands coming in rescue and helping himself out of his jeans. In an instant, he pulls at the hem of your shirt, dragging the material over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. Your eyes have wandered off to the door behind him and suddenly you’re too aware that someone could walk in easily.

“Babe… this room has no lock.” you mention, evoking a small smirk on his face. “Don’t you think it’s more fun that way? No one’s gonna come in.” He teases, eyes shamelessly staring at your bra, like he’s trying to smog up the power to disappear things with his mind.

“But-“ he’s quick to pipe you down by a kiss on the lips. “No ‘but’s’, you’re safe with me, amore.”

You pull him back in, sick of prolonging this any longer and seriously needing a good fuck if he’s gonna make it worth the while. If this is his way to at least attempt to apologise, then he better makes it good. Not that he has ever disappointed you in that division.

He hovers over you again, faces inches from yours, his hand snaking under your back to unclasp your bra in what feels like a nanosecond. He pulls the material off your body like it’s some sort of pest- like he’s been wanting it off since the moment he had laid eyes on you. He nips and sucks at your skin, hands exploring every inch of you. He licks a stripe right above your boobs, staring up at you with a well-known grin, eager to have his way with you.

He swipes his tongue over your sensitive nipple, lapping you up and then latching you in between his lips, paying great attention to you with his mouth, suckling and nibbling on your flesh. His other hand wanders to your untended breast, his fingers playing with the other nipple. You let out a soft whimper, already captivated by his fervent skills, your fingers threading through his soft curls.

Your eyes catches his, a sultry grin appearing on his face that has you overdriven with more arousal, more desire for him.

He moves to your other nipple, giving it the same, equal attention, drawing even more sounds and pants out of you.

All you really want is for him to hurry up. Your mind can’t get off of that damned door that has no lock on it, and he’s about to undress you intimately, which has made you apprehensive. He quickly catches on by your stiff demeanour and he lowers himself down, licking a long strip down your bare stomach- trying to make you forget about the door.

You lull your head back, your breath ragged and uneven as you tug at his golden strands tighter than before, earning a low grunt from him. He sure knows how to make you forget about stuff in an instant.

He has his hands on each side of your hips, trailing them towards the button of your black jeans. He works his way to get you out of your clothes, fast and determined, pulling the fabric down your thighs as you help him kick off the material.

“So gorgeous f’me, amore.” he grunts, quickly discarding his shirt off of him, accentuating his perfect, sweaty body to you, the sculputred abs and delicious pecs staring right at you as we speak. You sit up straight on the couch with only the flimsy laced underwear you’re wearing covering three percent of your body at most.

His eyes widen the moment you drop down to your knees in front of him, head-level with the black boxer briefs clung tightly on him. It highlights the swell of his tent that’s covered by the thin material of his Calvin Kleins. Your doe-eyed expression seems to get the better of him, already biting his bottom lip from your sight.

You waste no time, hooking your fingers under the material of his boxers, sliding them down ‘till they drop to his feet. He’s quick when it comes to stepping out of them, eager for you.

You’ve seen him like this before, plenty of times even, but right now— it’s like his arousal is as painful as it seems. His tip an angry shade of pink, pre-cum glazing down to his shaft. His breathing is laboured, his eyes concentrated on you, like he’s trying to moderate himself, keeping everything under control before he snaps.

You wrap your hand around his cock, the smallest of touch already making him hiss in pleasure. With deep shared eye contact, you start to pump him slowly, collecting the pre-cum that’s spilling out of him, whirling it over his tip, eliciting another desperate whimper from his agape lips. His eyebrows are creased, the purity in his eyes completely gone- reciprocated into something more coarse and obscene.

“Baby.. open your mouth.” he demands in a breathier tone, and you instantly oblige. With that, he cups your jaw with both of his large hands, his eyes intensely staring at yours. You don’t know what to expect, but he stars to hover over you, his face significantly closer to yours. He gives you that snarky smirk you know all too well, and then makes sure to lift your jaw a little up higher as he spits into your mouth without caution. Your eyes widen a little, his spit landing right on your tongue.

“Now swallow f’me, amore.” he orders, and you do exactly as he says.

Jesus…even in times like these— he still tastes divine.

His one hand threads through your hair, his other leaving the underside of your chin. “Show me what you’ve got…be my good girl.” he growls, standing up straight. You’re completely gone off guard by this small interaction between you and him, but you quickly shake it off, your trembly hand going back to where it was before.

You lick a strip up over his shaft, swirling your tongue on his tip that has him already writhing for more. You finally take him in your mouth, wrapping your lips sweetly around him and taking him inch by inch, a swall groan leaving his lips in exchange.

You set up a space, sucking him as you wrap your hand around the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth, his hand threading in your hair expeditiously. Low grunts and groans escapes his mouth, totally entranced by your ministrations as he couldn’t help but thrust forward, meeting your pace and rhythm all. He hits the back of your throat at every thrust, tears already brimming in your eyes that eventually seeps down to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but suck him with more precision, eyes deeply concentrated on his breathtaking face.

The desperation and anguish is written all over him, like he couldn’t bear this and needs you in ways where it’s humanly impossible to describe. Sweat already trickles over his forehead, eyes pleading for you, in a way that makes you believe his pupils are contorted into spelling your name- his want like a screeching howl that blares through your eardrums.

In a quick motion, he pulls out of you and you take your time to catch your breath, heaving them out like you’ve ran a marathon, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He pulls you to your feet, hands on your hips and instantly pushing you backwards on the couch as your back hits the cushions, laying flat on the surface. Hovering over you, he delicately scans his eyes over your whole frame, taking in every detail from your tousled hair to your almost naked self. He traps himself in between your spread out legs, his length making contact with your lower abdomen, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His arms are on each side of you, a few strands of his curls hanging over his forehead. “Need to fuck you, baby. Need you right now.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and his tone laced in pure lust.

You bite your bottom lip as he positions you, hands firmly grasping your hips in desperation. “Please…” You utter out, the only thing your lips can form as a sole word, while your mind is going a million miles an hour with how much you have to say.

The warmth of his palms are soon replaced by the cool air hitting your hips, his hands sliding down to your thighs as his fingers prudently play with the lace of your underwear. “So beautiful…” He murmurs in almost a whisper. “I only have eyes for you, you know that right?” He adds, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, examining him. “I know...” you reply in a soft mumble and his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile.

You glance down his body, and the sight alone has you as weak as water. He pumps himself a few times, eyes still trained on yours. He pulls at the laced material of your panties, prodding his length right under the fabric as he teasingly begins to rub himself against you. You let out a stifled moan, eyebrows creased upwards in simple pleasure. He’s fervent with you, fastening his pace ever so slightly that drives you insane. “So wet f’me, yeah?” he grunts, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your soft moans are muffled in between the kiss as his hand that rested on your hip is now gripping your thigh, quickly hooking it over his shoulder. He positions himself at your entrance, gliding himself inside you fervently with your panties now pushed aside. A soft gasp escapes your throat, head already lulled back by how full he’s making you feel once he’s fully inside. After making sure you adjust to him, he begins to set up a slow pace, hovering over your body even closer as this new profound feeling intensifies, hitting you in all the right places.

“So fucking pretty for me, baby… Let me hear you, yeah? Moan f’me…” he praises, and all you could do in response to that is grow louder- despite still being in a semi-public setting. There’s a small chance someone could walk in, or even hear you through the door, but your mind is elsewhere. It’s on him, totally engulfed in pleasure he gives you.

“Taking me so well…” He pants, heaving out breaths as his thrusts start to become rougher, dragging out more moans out of you. “So good for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill you up so well...” He continues, his hands trailing over every inch of your body, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples, eliciting another whimpery moan from your lips.

He continues to thrust into you deliciously, hooking your other leg over his other shoulder, this newfound angle hitting your sweet spot delightfully over and over again. Moans spill out of you in an overwhelming sensation, that’s probably music to his ears by the way he’s thoroughly captivated by you.

His own moans fall from his lips once your hips buck up to match his rhythm of his thrusts. “I’m so close...” you heave out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He takes this as a sign to fuck you harder. Rougher. Like he wants to break you in half.

He adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing out louder moans, that has no way of becoming less when it’s only pitching up higher in decibels. “You’re so fucking hot, baby…So perfect.” he praises you, totally wrapped up in utter pleasure, the slapping sounds of skin on skin echoing through the room.

“Please…” you plead in a high whimper, not really sure why, but you’re completely overdriven in ecstasy, his thumb on your sensitivity never leaving you which adds to more pleasure, egging you on.

“Yeah, amore mio? Gonna give it to me, aren’t you? Show me… Show me how good I make you feel.” he groans completely out of breath, his chest glistening with his own sweat. He leans down, folding you in half like a damned pretzel, hitting you even deeper than before. He nips on the skin at the crook of your neck, humming against you.

“Making me feel so good…” he murmurs against your skin, his thrusts piercing more moans out of you, knowing how much you enjoy his rough side.

The bubbling feeling inside your lower abdomen intensifies by the minute, exhibiting that you’re nearing the finish line. He knows by your desperate pants and graphic sounds as he strives to get you to the pinnacle point of pleasure, picking up on his thrusts, fucking you harder against the cushions with fervor.

Your brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs, moving from left to right in a stirring pan as his lips finds yours in a sweet quick kiss, pulling away to look at you. His hands grip your waist as tight as ever, definitely leaving a mark behind. His whimpers like a melody you can never get sick of, no matter how many times you’re willing to repeat the same tune.

A few more thrusts in and you hear the familiar ringing in your ears as you near the edge completely, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. You scream out his name in the process, clenching sweetly around him as he follows right behind you and finishes, trails of curse words falling from his lips in heavy grunts—filling you with his cum.

He unhooks your legs from his shoulders, pulling out of you with a small gasp. He crashes down next to you, heaving out hefty breaths. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his glistening body. “See? You’re safe with me, just like I told you.” he breathes, letting out a soft chuckle.

You turn your face to look at him, a genuine smile formed on your lips, despite being completely out of breath. “Mmmh, never said you were wrong.”

He chuckles in response, planting a sweet kiss to your temple. “You felt incredible baby, definitely needed this after the show.”

You smile, all the anger and jealousy from before completely wiped off of you. “I always do.” you counter with a smug grin, giving him a bit of a tease.

“A win-win situation for me, eh?” He eyes you, eyebrows raised with a cheeky smile. You laugh, shaking your head. “Definitely.” You agree, a small giggle followed after.

“So… I take it that you’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, his voice laced in a sincere tone.

You had almost forgotten about how immensely infuriated you were before this happened. “I forgive you.” you murmur, glancing at him.

“I mean it when I told you I only have eyes for you.” he utters, pulling you even closer than before, pecking the top of your head.

This was definitely a way to end the night, after a very small gig took place and how the man of your dreams next to you can have you riled up in anger as well as desire in the span of two seconds. You’re not complaining about it at all. You wouldn’t have him any other way— even if it means all the ups and downs that comes with it.

————

[shelter-maki0]

I have finally finished my series of fanfic art! I originally tried my hand at fanfic novel in order to these draw arts. (I like drawing)This was a personal activity I undertook for myself. It was my first experience writing a novel, and I made a lot of mistakes.

Since we're on the subject, let me introduce to the contents of my wrote fic.

This fic utilizes the Time-Turner from The Cursed Child, and it's about a 40-year-old Harry who is sent back to the 1940s in an accident. Harry will be working as a DADA professor at Hogwarts.

Harry shouldn't change the past. Just like the lesson demonstrated in Cursed Child. Harry's looks for a way back to the future, watching over Myrtle's death and Tom's misdeeds in order not to change the future. And I added another idea to it.

Harry's soul wants to let Tom's soul back inside, which he has held for many years. It's an impulse that happens regardless of Harry's will, and they're attracted to each other against their will.

The idea was inspired by Harry's realization in Cursed Child that he is still mentally trapped by Voldemort. What if he was not only trapped in spirit, but also in soul? I thought that idea very hot. (The fact that Harry was still mentally trapped by Voldemort as an adult drove me crazy🥵)

Harry watches over Tom's misdeeds, but in the process, Harry and Tom form a bond that's hard to separate. It was a bond that transcended the attraction between souls.

However Harry loves his family and friends, so he faces many conflicts. Tom&Harry grow up with each other's struggles and problems, The two fall in love. This is also the story of Tom discovering what love is.

Tom in this fic is not a psychopath. Tom grows spiritually in this story, but in the end, Harry erases his memories of that growth.

It's because the future must not be changed, as Harry did in of Cursed Child. That's like Harry watched his own parents die. So, in order to turn Tom into Voldemort, Harry erases the changes he made to Tom and returns to the future.

When Harry erases his memory of love and himself from Tom and returns to future, he finds the same peaceful world. It is the correct timeline in which Voldemort was defeated.

Harry is relieved that he has returned to the correct time without changing the future. But one thing in that world had changed drastically.

It was Harry's family. Harry had to pay the price for the crime of arrogance in selfishly erasing Tom's memory.

The details are described in the novel, but ultimately Harry's love destroys Voldemort. But that love also allowed Voldemort to live. Naturally, the history of many people dying in wars has not changed. They would be tied through a bloody history.

Harry despairs of modern times where he has lost his original family and is married to Voldemort. Harry ruined his life. Furthermore, other people's fates that Harry has moved in the past will befall him as karma.

But Tom is very happy✨and the magical world is probably at peace.

The story ends with Harry laughing hysterically as he realizes that a part of Tom's soul has returned in his own soul.

Happy ending? Probably :(

I understand that Cursed Child is a controversial work. But I love Harry in that work. (I like him with his problems) And it's filled with a very tasty setting from a tomarrymort point of view.

If you know any fic on tomarrymort of in Cursed Child timeline, please contact me. I couldn't find one, so I had to make my own🥲

This whole fic was written to be ridiculous and romantic, fun story tone. And it's sooo long😩

As you can see, I'm not very good at writing English. So I don't plan to translate it, but I would be happy if you enjoyed these artworks alone.

Thanks looking for my art :)

[justcallmecj]

Alr, unfortunately I am like, 20 minutes late for this but I'm posting it regardless. I made some art of Zarina, my Touchstarved oc, with the Li and I just barely missed the time to have posted them on her birthday.

Anyway, September 6th is Zarina's bday (and mine) so these are a series of Zarina hanging out with our favorite characters and having fun!

Leander:

This one is actually my favorite. I got adventurous and tried some special lighting since this bg is a nigh time one. And, surprisingly enough, it did work! In this image, I totally imagine Zarina being shell shocked at being princess carried, since no ones done this with her since she was a small child.

Kuras:

I loved this base for Zarina and Kuras, but then realized that there are no bg in the game where this will make reasonable sense, so tbh I have no clue what Zarina is pointing at. Sooo, use your imagination! Also, Kuras has such a complex design (they all do) so I'm happy I was able to simplify it while also getting across the same vibe. (pretty proud of that gold on his chest honestly)

Mhin:

Mhin took a bit of time to do. The angle is new to me and was hard to translate their clothing as such, however, I got it in the end. I tried to add that signature red they have in their eyes, like how I do with the emotes I've been doing, but it just didn't look right for some reason. But this is what I ended up with and I'm fine with it (even if they look a tad bit dead inside)

Vere:

Vere is actually the last one I did, finished about 10 minutes ago actually. I had a lot of fun doing him, but to be fair, I have fun drawing Vere all the time. I wish I had the skill/confidence to do those shear parts to his sleeve but I just didn't. Maybe another time. Vere seems to be quite peaceful and content in this art and I'm glad since that was the look I was going for! Also, why are they at the Seaspring? Their waiting for Ais to come back, of course! (Totally not bc there was no other suitable bgs from the game.)

Ais:

And this was the first one I did for this series. I honestly love this one, just like the Leander one, for a different reason. The concept is so fucking funny. I imagine that, bc Zarina is so physically weak and has no combat experience, she gets in a lot of trouble. And while due to plot reasons I can't discuss yet, she would be fine in the end and come out nearly unharmed, the others still step in when they find out. The idea of Ais picking her up like a wet cat to drag her away from trouble tickles the corner of my brain, y'know? And she looks so dejected!

[stychu-stych]

Now… I have NO idea if people already asked, but I have been kinda like… looking thru your page in the past few days and I will say that your Narinder’s design looks SOOOO GOOD OH MY GOSH.

Like… okay. People already talked about this but I will emphasize on his NOSE. Like I don’t about tall but something about his nose is..l WLNWNEEM.

IT JUST FITS HIM SO WELL I AM DYING. I AM DEAD. I AM DEAD ROSE QUARTZ/ref to Steven Universe if you know it

Lamb should be very lucky that they got a guy like him.

And I am no joke, I feel like this would be SO creepy if someone told me my nose looked pretty but I swear to god it fits Narinder so well…:’)

Out of all the designs I saw from people, yours is SOOO good and I am already obsessed like hell. I love and love it. Please don’t stop🙏 my art skills could never

I could sit here for hours talking about this but I don’t want to bother you. And you most likely wont read this but still😭

And like, I am drawing fanart of cotl and well duhh of course the first characters I will draw is Lamb and Narinder. But Narinder’s design/face looks so off after seeing your beautiful crunchy art. So since this supposed to be an aaaassskk….

Could we POTENTIALLY KINDA use your way of drawing his face/his nose👉👈 (I feel so weird asking this😨)

New hyperfixarions do truly hurt one deeply</3….

ANYWAYS. Thank you for letting me ramble like this here, I hope you read this very long essay of mine. And if tou don’t, welp… I STILL HOPE YOU MAKE CONTENT.

TY! ✨✨✨ I love drawing noses! I love noses in general, they can be so unique and make faces look so outstanding. And oh, the Lamb feel so lucky, they fell only because of that nose for sure jdbdbd

About your question- I don't mind at all ✌️ thank you for asking. My designs are still fanarts, they're not my characters and I made Narinder this way just because I love sad, angry men with "I'm too old for this" look hdbdhshd I'm so happy that you like my arts and if my work inspires you in some way - go for it! And have fun with drawing

Also why so many people think I don't read their asks or posts where I'm tagged 😭 I read all of it and I'm so hyped everytime someone mentions me. Also I love seeing new asks, I always try to publish all of them, sometimes it can take me a long time when I want to draw something as an answer

[nekonyaniii]

Hellauurr!

Ummmmhh.....!!! I Kinda late for doing introductions, but I'm Nekonyaniii or you can call me Ani! I'm an artist that mainly paint For All Time/Lovebrush Chronicles, YexuanxLittlePainter/CaelxLittlePainter!!! They took half of my soul ... (they should pay for it so I'll draw them a lott nyeheheh!! >:3)

Uhh.. I'm Little Painter's huge simp... She is my sunshine bbg wifey... I also love her silly Yexuan!! (I promise i'm so normal about them, insane a bit (lot) I think)

I'm sooo in love with Yexuan/Little painter!!!! I would be so happy if you love them too! Or my art can make you happy! I love share the joy!!

Ah right! My blog is not spoiler free, I read cn content so I might also draw on what cn content have! Please follow and look at your own risk!!

For easy way to access to see my art link! I recently add a tag to my post! (My bad, I'm so late to know how tumblr tags work TT)

nekonyaniii art = Tumblr tag for my art

nekonyaniii twitter = My twitter! I more active on here .. i think

That's all, thank you! Nice to meet you!!

[ducky531]

A Proper Introduction

After scrolling around the depths of Tumblr (aka, after being on here for a couple of minutes and seeing a couple of people pin things like this-) I have decided to make a small little written section about me for you peeps to get to know me better. (Especially since every other platform I'm on doesn't really allow me to freely write and has a character limit-) Sooo, let's make a proper introduction for once! Hello there! I'm Ducky, or at least that's what you all will know me as. No, that's not my real name, although my username does have meaning behind it. A fun fact with my username: outside of the numbers being a date, I actually don't have any even numbers in my username on any platform. While the numbers do have significance, I just really don't like even numbers, either. So, the numbers actually have two different meanings!...not like that matters anyways- Some of my hobbies include art, cosplay, gaming, and- surprisingly- card games/ card collecting. You peeps here will mostly be getting art and cosplay content. If you'd like to see some of my other content, then please look to my linktree account that has all of my social media platforms listed! Most of the content that you'll be getting here will mostly be One Piece art (and more specifically oc x cc content). However, I will post occasionally for my other fandoms that I am into. Some of these fandoms include: -Hetalia (Hush, this show has had me in a chokehold since 2009-) -Creepypasta -Demon Slayer -Jjba -Alice in the Country of Hearts (This series is SEVERELY underated and it makes me sad ;v;) -Villainous (I have to clarify this: Cartoon Network's Villainous, not Disney's Villainous-) -Tokyo Debunkers -Hazbin Hotel -Obey me! -That's Not my Neighbor -The Arcana: Visual Novel -Naruto -My Hero Academia -Fire Force If you're into a fandom/ I post art for a fandom that I did not list here, please reach out to me if you're curious if I really am or not :3 Sometimes I do like drawing other characters from other fandoms if I like their design enough. In the way of One piece, I'll give you a small survival guide on how to decode a lot of my gibberish posts/ a lot of what I try to convey with my art and writing. (In other words, please take these fun little tidbits of info about the show that make me absolutely happy): -If you'd like to draw Bernice, Lee, or Pandora (All of these are my one Piece girlies, and I love them with every bit of my heart >w<) By all means feel free to! If you post it, make sure to tag me or notify me about it so I can like and repost it! Or, if you pm me with a piece of fanart, please know that I will keep it forever. (I actually do save fan art. I still have so many pieces that I got from 8+ years ago-) -In addition to that, if you'd like to draw my ocs with their canon pairings, yes. Absolutely do not hesitate to! If you don't know who belongs with who, I'll make it easier for you peeps! Lee is paired with Heat (Mr. Flame Thrower from Kidd's crew...what? he deserves more love >:3). Bernice is paired with Thatch (Whitebeard's crew cook...zip it, I know my pairings are odd, but shush. Thatch is my number one favorite character next to Corazon >w<) And finally, Pandora usually has her son Tonta, but I've been working out who to pair her with. (I want to pair her with another member from Whitebeard's crew, but the problem I face is that she's actually my only marine oc...) -I do have a very long and detailed chapter posted on Wattpad including all of Lee's info if you're willing to read through it. I will be doing the same with Pandora and Bernice once I finish their info up. -My top five favorite characters altogether (Going in order) Is 1. Corazon and Thatch, and 2. Heat, Killer, and Fukaboshi. -Following up favorites, my favorite pirate crew is Whitebeard's. (Do not ask me to rank all of his commanders because I will have no definite and final answer ever, the same goes for his allies, lol.)

Uhh....yeah. Uhm...Oh, yeah! the rest of the basics- I am a chick, so please when you address me/ talk about me with other, please use she/her pronouns...no, really, please? Apparently my online presence has given a lot of people the impression that I'm a dude. Dunno why, but it always throws them off when I finally post cosplay content and actually do realize I'm a chick XD. Please keep in mind, too, that I am 22. Which means I feel very uncomfortable with talking to people younger than me...or older than me for that matter...just, basically, I'm very anxious when it comes to talking to new people in general, so if you do not receive a reply from my right away, just know that it's not because I think 'I'm better than you' or am ignoring you. It's probably because I'm overthinking what exactly I should say or just don't know what to say :3 outside of basic info, I do have art commissions open, as well as character sheet commissions. While I don't have character sheet commissions listed anywhere, please feel free to ask me about them. I can negotiate pricing to create a detailed character sheet (Such as my oc's that's posted on Wattpad). Please note as well with my commissions, you get exactly what you pay for in the form of a tier system. (Full Portrait comes with complex background, full body, full color, etc, as well as the base color, lineart, and sketch, along with a few up close shots. The same goes for what of the other tiers you pay for. Base color gets that, lineart, and sketch. And the rest follow suit.) Ok, NOW I think l that's it, lol.

[megidoreyn]

Heyyy it's about the art questions

I would like to know your answer in 18 (the purpose) and 22 (artspiration).

I would also ask 3 but I'd completely understand if you prefer not to answer

The rest are already answered

Hope you have a great month. ;D

Hey there! Thanks for the questions!

⭐️3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand

→ It was a real trip down memory lane to look back on some of these, but here's a sample of some old things from 2021-early 2022! (Prior to posting on social media in Aug 2022) Back then, I didn't have any real incentive to improve my art outside of drawing quick sketches like the pictures above. I had issues being cleanly (due to lack of motivation), committing to learning character details, and more LOL. →Fun fact, I drew on a very tiny 11 inch screen 4GB RAM laptop with horrible color calibration for about 3 years until finally getting something better in early 2022 too LOL. It might be noticeable in some of the above pictures with the color choices being a little too light or too saturated, LOL.

→As also seen at the bottom of this post, It might come as a surprise that I also draw fanart for my favorite assorted fandoms outside of megaten too, LOL. I just never post it in public since they're meant as warm-up doodles!

To be honest, 2020 thru late 2022 was a very low point in my life. I had given up on all creative endeavors at the time due to: My career, being diagnosed with a bodily issue of which the effects I still deal with even today, and other personal issues.

It truly wasn't until late 2022 (when I started posting online) that I truly felt confident picking up my tablet pen again and view art in a more positive light…!

NGL I had written out my entire life story here but ended up deleting it--it would have made this post terribly long regardless LOL💦 Perhaps it'll be a story for another time, though!!🙏 And it absolutely has to do with why the Samurai husbands mean lot to me!

⭐️18. What is your purpose for drawing?

→ That's a good question! For me, (especially due to my visual agnosia) it'd have to be the ability to draw whatever comes to mind with skill and precision. To not hold back and draw whatever comes into your mind's eye without fear or hesitation from others (or your own critical inner voice)… And to be able to properly convey the meaningful themes of your work as clearly as they come into your mind... That, to me, is true freedom.

➡️As for BL content: Despite not posting much of it in public (yet), my purpose in drawing BL (or OTP content in general) is to transmit feelings of love + warmth in my art! To depict tenderness, warmth, and love with affectionate, natural-looking body language to make it as believable + realistic as possible...That's always been my goal! →The world is a scary place out there. Though, if my OTP content can make someone feel a slight glimmer of peace, tranquility, or even hope to keep moving forward...then I'll be incredibly happy!🙏💕 It's always my intention to convey nothing but sweet wholesome vibes and warmth with my pictures, and I truly hope that feeling comes across too. ➡️I'll be super candid and say I actually really enjoy angst and raunchy content as much as everyone else! But drawing wholesome + sweet characters in love just comes much sooo much easier and naturally as breathing to me, LOL. Just because I don't post angst or raunchy things, doesn't mean I dislike it! ☝️

⭐️22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

→ I tend to gravitate towards professional artists with thick painting (厚塗り) coloring styles, dynamic illustrations, and artists that have a strong grasp of anatomy, character design and storytelling! It's hard to pick just one, so here's a brief selection of ones that come up at the top of my head right now!

Thanks again for the questions! Have a wonderful January and rest of your 2024 as well!✨🌟

[hearts401]

not an ask. I just simply want to say how absolutely utterly fucking HAPPY I AM HOLY CRAP!!!!!,!! I watched this guy for four and a half years and he turned out to be a horrible person, so for quite a while I’ve been reading and watching anything I can to fill in the place for “what to get attached to for years again but still watch other things and get attached it’s just this one is always lurking no matter what my Brian will go back to them” and the unwanteds just so happen to be that. Surprise surprise Aaron just so happens to fit the closest out of literally everything I’ve watched and read (even the old four and a half year guy)- to the little personality that my brain has just consumed and placed onto my favourite character but like not actually ther all different but GUH whatever. That doesn’t matter I just can’t not over explain my self and it horrible because I explain myself horribly. Main point is I always get attached to one character and I love them so so much and they never leave my brain ever and Aaron actually just won’t go away. Every now and then I’d come back to loook at the tags here and see the same stuff again and believe me I was grateful for there being anything at all BUT OH MY GOSH!,!, YOU, YOU LITERAL ANGEL, HAVE BLESSED MY ENTIRE SOUL TODAY!!,!! I CAME HERE JUST TO LOOK AT THE SAME THINGS AGAIN TODAY AND YKNOW WHAT I SEE?? THE MOST GORGEOUS ART OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTER OVER AND OVER AGAIN WITHOTHER CHARACTERS WHO I ALSO REALLY LOVE AND I ALSO JUST REALLY LOVE THE RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS SO I ALWAYS SEARCH UP MY FAVORITE CHARACTER AND THEN SIME OTHER CHRACWTRE,,,, AND OBVIOSULY THAT DOESNT WORK TOO WELL WHEN THERES BASICALLY NO FANDOM, BUT AHHHHH!,! LIAM, EVA, PANTHER???? IM LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU. Every time I scroll down I see another one of your arts and I just have to stare for five minutes, AND THEN THERES JSUT MORE!!! IVE ACTUALLY ENTERED HEAVEN AND YOU ARE THE GOD 🥹🥹🥹 anyways sorry if this is weird or anything lmao im just really happy and I can’t word correctly. Recently it’s been a lot asker to get over my fear of talking to others just to say they’re really cool or pretty (even though I’m still super scared) but this has made me so excited I just had to tell the amazing artist who did it GAHHHHH YOU ARE SO AWESOME AND COOL THANK YOU!!!

THIS MADE MY DAY HELLO???? IMGGFJ IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY STUFF SM OMGHGHG IM SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THESE GUYS ITS AGHHG

im also super passionate abt how my favs interact with others ughhgguhfrrgr but theres very little liam and eva content i just had to draw them!!! I ALSO FEEL YOU SO BAD??? ITS SOOO HARD TO FIND CONTENT OF SMALL FANDOMS THAT FITS MY NICHE LITTLE BOX. I LIKE THE UNDERRATED INSIDE THE UNDERRATED 😭😭😭 WHICH IS WHY I LIKE TO MAKE A LOT OF MY OWN CONTENT!!!

I'm actually so happy im smiling os hard over this messagefdhdf i'll draw more of them soon just for you!!!

[eliyafreeman]

🧡 "Maybe he kept us apart for 20 years, but...I knew I'll find you..." 💗

*violent snarling and breathing*

AFTER FUCKING 48+ HOURS ON GETTING THIS DRAWING TO LOOK GOOD, FINALLY. I FINISHED A FULL MOTHERFUCKING PIECE WITH MAKING SURE THERE ARE NO MISTAKES!!!

Anw haiii!!! So, y'all probably question this.. Art? Thing...? Well, let me explain. Because HL2 is a massive trigger for me when it comes to Freeman being shipped with others. So, I said; let's mimic how i would be in HL2 to make things nicer for myself!! I have a HL1 mod in the working by the name Half-Life: Guns and Roses, Featuring me ofc!! (If you're interested to help me with it or just hear abt the project tell me!). So what if "HL: Guns and Roses 2" was a thing (hint hint 😉)? Well, I made up some random stuff in my head and said FUCK IT THERE I FIND FREEMAN, WE ARE TOGETHER AGAIN AND I'M A ROSE GODDESS WITH TELEKINESIS POWERS AND WE ARE SAVING CITY-17 AND THE WORLD AND FIGHTING THE COMBINE TOGETHER.

So, yes!! Also abt my design in this drawing. My HL:GAR2 Rose Goddess design was a rlly different one. Until I went on Pinterest and saw this flower dress that was worn by a model in a runway from 1999!! I FELL IN LOVE!!! IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL!!! 😭💗

Here it is!! I may make a cosplay for sure, I could go to cons with it! ^_^

I rlly loved the design and EVERYTHING!! AND THE PINK ESPECIALLY!!! Changed some stuff in my drawing but meh- And to the rose crown, a golden Lambda pendant is attached to it yes and it is ✨ magical ✨. Sooo yes!! This is the first full art in MONTHS!!! and I rlly mean MONTHS.

I am pretty satisfied but I saw some small mistakes that are hurting my eyes but at least they're not severe ones...- tho I must say, the roses were such a challenge for me 😭, I am just happy I managed to balance everything and it at least looks okay.

I am rlly happy with my work for once (kinda?)!! It's a good thing I suppose, I still could do better with the colors tho since I forgot stuff... ^_^"

Soooo that's all I have for today! And tysm for 100 follows!! Happy that y'all love my content and support my selfship. Even if the support is so little it is a HUGE appreciation from me to you. Tysm 🧡💗

//Full drawing with no crop//

And have a bonus one of us shedding a tear for being together again...💕

💚 Reblogs are highly appreciated!! 💚

canonxcanons/selfshippers with him DNI ❤

[zeldacd]

I dunno if i've said this before (i might have) but I really appreciate the reactions I get on my art here 😊

Especially even the personal projects/AU content, It makes me really happy for someone to see these characters/designs that they don't recognize and interact with them! You're all very kind to me. I've been drawing Zelda stuff since 2012 back when I was still in High School, but back then I had sub zero confidence and was always just too embarrassed to post anything other than the occasional basic fanart.

So posting my AU stuff was completely out of the question I was just SOOO embarrassed by all of it like... in a way it just felt too self indulgent I couldn't imagine anyone other than myself liking any of it.

But! I'm really trying to be more confident, post things without worrying and just thinking "well I like it, if someone else happens to like it too then that's great, but I don't mind if no one else does" and I dunno it just makes me really happy to get any interaction at all on my works. For the first time in years I really do feel happy drawing and I look forward to coming home and drawing despite my constant exhaustion and physical pain.

Zelda has been important to me for a long time, and for a long time I've never really gotten to talk to anyone about it. But I'm proud of myself for how far I've come! Sorry for being corny!!

[pondonyo]

[CURSE WORDS NEAR THE END 'lol idk who needs that warning but yk.. nice to have anyway it may be triggering 🤨🤔👍]

Ok.. sooo I recently had an epiphany spiritual awakening thing and basically it was like..

Why are some people so caught up with God's gender..? Like.. they get obsessed with the fact that God goes by he/him in the Bible and like.. internalize it in toxic ways??

Like.. "God" is just a way to describe kind of.. like an energy. Like a center energy that everything comes from- but yk not dehumanizing. (Yk like.. not that God is human anyway but.. ykwim)

He's incorporeal, so physical restrictions are literally not a thing.. like.. that's just not a thing.

Also the whole getting hung up on God's gender thing is a useless thing that won't help you cuz HES NOT PHYSICAL. PHYSICAL BOUNDARIES AND METAPHORICAL WALLS AND STUFF DONT APPLY.

Like.. I say "he/him" for God cuz that's just respectful. Like.. you wouldn't go around, then meet someone and just call them by one trait of themselves.. like you meet someone with pink hair, and it's like.. you learn their name and all of this information about them but just refuse to respect that?? Huh? And then you just call them "pink hair"

That's the dehumanizing factor I was talking about. But yk.. it doesn't apply to God cuz he's not human.. 💀

SOOOOOO basically (personal rant loll) don't let your spiritually blocked parental figure [for me my dad 😬] hinder your growth potential and natural learning abilities. Just because your living situation is shit- or you feel like shit- or whatever it is-

Persevere. Find what works for you. Get creative. Take risks if you feel you need to. Be brave. You know what you want. So harness that energy towards your desire (like leaving a toxic household) and utilize that for your own happiness and well being.

Anger? Maybe you're so mad at the terrible way they're treating you that you decide to just.. leave. Like straight up leave the house. Like.. take a walk to clear your mind. Maybe the police will be called to look for you? Tell your own story to the police. Tell them what really happened. The truth. It's odd to even have someone running away from home anyway, so maybe someone will help. Whatever the situation is. Just remember there’s always an "out" and ALWAYS positive energy you can utilize towards making things better for yourself.

Remember: Change starts with you. Look within yourself and find that happiness you've always been looking for. You CAN change.

MOST IMPORTANT PART

Take this with a grain of salt too. Don't force others to change for you because we all have free will. THAT is our divine gift. We have the CHOICE to throw that rock, or to offer a hand. It is ALWAYSSS your decision.

[Also personally I was guided to stay away from toxic addictive substances cuz they addled the mind.. but like you do you. That's literally just me. Sooo.. yeaaa]

Pretty cool lol

Thx for letting me share a part of myself with you guys! 😁 BLESSINGS !! HAVE A NICE YEAR !! BYE GUYS !! ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷🤎🤍🩶🖤

EMOJI COMBOS

❗️ possible content warning

🎉 cool discoveries

👋/📫 open chat session things..?? Like posts for free discussions, specifically ig. I mean all of them are open for discussion but like.. questions maybe? Also polls?? Yeah 💪

🖍 TUTORIAL STUFF AND STUFF IM LEARNING ON THE INTERNET (like how to navigate Tumblr on phone

🖌 drawings..?? Like.. tagged for like.. art and such. Maybe like.. commisions?? I could try like.. somthing.. idk lol but imma do that and post my art and I could like.. do that 💪😁❗️❤️

[arthotsglasses]

Just realized March 27th was the second anniversary of this blog.

Ik it's late but thank all of you for making it a great place for me, in the hard times. It was right after quarantine started, got rejected from uni I wanted to go to, and a bunch more bad shit going on. I've received so much support and I hope I've given some too lol

This blog has grown sooo much and I've developed such a good community here uwu. (this acc was my back alley acc to simp/meme for otome games in the beginning but now it's like my main acc lel proud simper) I get to draw sexy anime boys while making you guys happy, what a win-win. My masterlist has grown insanely thanks to all of your ask ideas. I was able to meet some great people and it opened up so many new opportunities as well. I mean bruh it got me into game art college program,,, what more can I ask for hehe it's like I entered a new world here.

I shall continue to provide yall with quality content. When I start doing conventions again soon, some of your asks may turn into prints and/or postcards, soooo yeah looking forward to that! thank ya and have a great rest of your day bois <3

[pandoras-princess]

Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader) 18+

*gif not mine//credit to owner

A/N: Hello my lovely peopless! 🌸 I have had the worst writer’s block and honestly it felt like this part was going to go on forever. But we’re here and we’re over it 🤗 I’m actually quite proud of how this one turned out despite everything so I shall keep it short and sweet but I will say please please read part one before you read this if you haven’t already, this part won’t make sense otherwise but that’s it for the nagging I swear 😚 sooo without further adieu I give you part two 😁😁 Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is always welcome 😌

Summary: It’s been half a year and you’ve settled quite nicely into your job at the Garrison, as well as all the perks that come with it. Your relationship with Tommy takes an unexpected turn, igniting a fire within John he hadn’t known was simmering...

Pairing: (OOC) Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, explicit mentions of sex, smoking

PART ONE PART THREE PART FOUR

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It’s been 6 months since your first shift at the Garrison, and running the bar isn’t the only thing you've settled into.

After spending the night together in his office, you and Tommy came to a mutually beneficial arrangement. You provide him with some much needed stress release, in return he provides you with the love and adoration you so desperately crave, even if only for the brief moments spent in your bed.

As the intimate meetings became more and more frequent, there was still no doubt in your mind that you were little more than a functional lay to the man.

Truthfully, you were anything but functional because with every encounter Tom could feel his heart falling for you.

At first, it was how you'd light a cigarette for him right after sex, plucking the stick from your lips to tuck it between his before you lit your own; it was the way your wild curls would encompass your face like a halo at even the smallest tilt of your head; it was the way you could handle any rowdy punter at the bar with a few choice words and a look that could put even the hardest man in his place. And now? Now, it was absolutely everything about you. Tom found his head clouded with thoughts of you constantly, the only relief taken from being in your presence.

What started out as a bit of harmless fun, had now become a nightly occurence.

Tonight being no exception, you skillfully roll over him, careful not to place any unwanted weight on delicate body parts. Tom pulls on his cigarette, inhaling the harsh smoke as he admires the after-sex glow radiating off your naked form. The only marrs on your skin were the hickeys he made in an eager bid to claim you as his own.

You set about gathering your clothes, unaware of the adoration swimming in the blue irises behind.

“What're you doing?”

“I’m getting ready to leave” you chime, now all too accustomed to the usual routine of sex and a quick smoke before walking home or sneaking Tom out.

Returning to the bed in hopes of retrieving your underwear, Tommy’s large hand wraps around your thigh holding you in place, and any thoughts of the discarded fabric are dashed.

“Stay.”

It was not a question but a statement, the silent pleading in his eyes a far too familiar feeling of your own.

“Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember you sayi-”

“I know what I said, that's not what I want anymore” he interrupts, perfectly aware of the words about to be repeated back to him.

Straddling his waist, his hands come to rest on your hips, thumbs drawing invisible circles on the soft skin beneath as your hands trail mindlessly along his toned chest, goosebumps appearing in their wake.  

“What do you want then?” The question comes out breathily, and your heart pounds against your ribcage at such an intensity you were sure it was audible.

“I wan’t you, Y/N.”

There it was. The words you’d been waiting to hear for what felt like an eternity.

You ignore the niggling voice in the back of your mind; the voice reminding you that this decleration of- of- whatever it is, was coming from the mouth of the wrong Shelby brother.

“Is that so, Mr Shelby?”

Tommy is cast back to the very first time you’d given yourself to him - bent over his desk and shamelessly moaning his name as he pounded you with such force he worried the aged wood might just give out from under you - and he remembers just why he’d had this change of heart in the first place.

You were perfect. Plain and simple.

Of course you had your quirks, everyone did. But try as he might he couldn’t find a single one that put him off. The more time spent together the more he was convinced God had crafted you entirely for his sake.

“Yes Y/N that is so.” Tommy’s fingers connect with your waist and your angelic giggles fill the air, the smile tracing his lips deepening.

Flipping over so that his body is snug between your legs, he continues his relentless tickle attack, relishing the feel of your body squirming underneath him as you desperately try to get away.

“To-tommy sto-stop tickling me!”

Your dainty hands barely manage to prise one hand from your waist before the other reconnects, rendering your muscles useless as you collapse into laughter.

“O-okay you win! I’m yo-yours, all yours!”

“Ah the magic words.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Tommy’s beautiful face beaming down at you, having obviously accomplished his mission. Draping your slender arms around his neck, you pull him into a kiss and his hands roam your body, tracing along each and every curve before settling for burying in your curls.

For the first time in six months, you and Tommy made love. Well, the first and second time, to be exact.

Hours later and Tommy is peeling his body off of yours, lungs begging for oxygen as the fragments of your mind recollect themselves - the ecstasy of your orgasms positively mind blowing.

“Tommy?”

“Mm?”

“Do you mind if we, um, maybe wait before telling everyone. I just don’t fancy them sticking their oar in, m’ really quite content just us” you muse, shifting into place beside him. Your touch dances along his collarbones, exploring every groove and crevice on its travels to his jawline.

Eyes closed, a lop-sided grin gracing those oh so plump lips. Silky brown waves marvellously tousled from hours of your fingers raking through them.

The man truly was a work of art.

Tommy hums softly in response, one lid opening to peer down at you before capturing your hand in his, lightly pecking each of your fingers along the way.

“Anything for you, Princess.”

With the ghost of his soft lips lingering, your focus shifts to the rhythmic beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the ever so slight twitch of his fingers. And so, wrapped securely in the arms of tender loving care, you drift off to sleep.

The next morning your small figure is weaving throughout the back streets of Small Heath, now an expert on the roads less traveled by Peaky Blinders and Co.

With blood pounding in your ear drums and your heart thuddering in your chest, you sneak through the creaky door making a beeline for the stairs.

“Where’ve you been?”

You reluctantly enter the kitchen, finding Polly at the breakfast table with a cup of tea to her left, an ashtray to her right and a heap of papers inbetween.

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“No where.”

“That hickey on your neck says otherwise” she smirks, finally raising her head to look at you.

Your hand pointlessly rushes to cover the purple bruise darkening by the minute on your jugular. “Shit!”

“So how is Tommy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said how is Tommy?” Polly repeats the question, panic creeping up your throat like bile.

“You mean... you know?”

“You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice my own nephew sneaking in and out of this house every night. Give me some credit” she quips. “Don’t worry your little secret is safe with me.”

The parilysing fear immediately dissolves and you plunk yourself down at the table, a dreamy sigh leaving your mouth as you lay your head to rest in your palms.

“Oh Pol, it’s wonderful! He’s so- so-”

“Please, spare me the details.”

“-so perfect!”

“Y/N, he’s Tommy Shelby - perfect isn’t a word within that man’s description.”

“Well it is in mine” you mumble.

“Anyway since you’re here you can help me. We’re having a gathering tonight and I want everyone here so I need you to go and tell them. In the lounge, 6pm sharp.”

“Fine” you huff, rising from the table.

“Oh and Y/N, make sure you cover that thing up before you see John, we don’t need any more murders around here.”

Red hot flames lick at your cheeks and Polly’s lips stretch into a smirk once again, chuckling to herself as she returns to the paperwork before her.

By 6 o’clock all members of the Shelby clan are slowly trickling into the lounge. Tommy and yourself are the first to arrive and he immediately chooses the right corner seat, guiding your body into the empty space beside him.

“Alright Pol” Tom greets his aunt not bothering to make eye contact as he notices a stray curl fall into your eyes, gently tucking it back in it’s rightful place before leaving a quick kiss on your temple.

Polly’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she hands you both a whiskey.

“You’ll want to be a bit more discreet than that when the others turn up.”

“Yes thank you Pol” Tom replies sarcastically as you direct your attention to ridding your jumper of non-existent fluff.

“Alright Polly.”

Your head snaps to the source of the gruff voice, butterflies fluttering against the confines of your ribcage as you lock eyes with John.

“Ye alright love” he plants a kiss on the top of your head before collapsing into the free corner of the sofa.

John was a man of few words, those that didn’t know him might even say simple. But when it came to you, the unspoken language of Jonathon Shelby was one of the few you could speak, thus giving rise to the overly affectionate nature of your relationship.

If this was a few years ago - before Esme, before Tommy, before that tart in the back alley, when everything was right with the world - you’d be tucked up next to John, curled into his side with a strong arm wrapped firmly around your waist. His fingers would absentmindedly trail along your skin, a private joke or snarky comment whispered into your ear every now and then. And when he laughed, oh god when he laughed, each muscle would flex around you drawing you in closer, forcing every fibre of your being to fight the urge to kiss him.

But this was not a few years ago and things had changed, the harsh truth slapping you in the face like a wet fish as you catch sight of Esme trawling into the lounge; each butterfly erupting into a tiny globe of fire as she settles herself between you and John.

How beautifully ironic you thought, shifting yourself closer to Tommy.

Eventually Ada and Arthur arrive and the night rolls on. The whiskey burns through your veins, blending with your blood on its way straight to your head. With a fair amount of Dutch courage under your belt your body was craving the intimacy it was used to on a night like this. So taking your chances you snuggle into Tommy, allowing yourself to relax when you feel his arm instinctively snaking around you.

The action - which could easily be passed off as a caring moment between two friends - hadn’t gone unnoticed, and every muscle under John’s control seized up at the sight.

More stories poured out, along with many more drinks - you’d half a mind to suspect Polly was purposely fueling you with alcohol - and the more brazen you become, your legs now laying over Tommy’s with his left hand resting comfortably on your thighs.

You gently tap on the waistband of his suit trousers, and hope that Tommy understands your silent request. The movement was much too slight to draw any attention and he brings his left hand to scratch an itch that wasn’t there, before casually placing it over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze when he’s sure nobody has noticed.

He forgot, however, that Ada was positioned with a clear viewpoint of the loving act, sitting smugly on the arm next to him as she put two and two together. She thought the pair of you had been awfully happy lately, much too happy for it to be coincidental.

As everyone focused their attention on Polly and her latest crazy tale, John’s jaw clenched and unclenched for the hundredth time, the muscle aching under the constant tension. He sat on the other side of the sofa, soundlessly raging as he thought over the countless nights you’d been draped over him like that, whispering and giggling, eyes glistening with mischief as he shared another secret joke with you. Now here you were, draped over his brother, whispering and giggling as your eyes glistened with what he hoped was the large amount of whiskey you’d ingested, and not the same mischief you once shared with him.

Esme attempted to replicate your position, and she was met with John’s hand roughly pushing her aside. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He wasn’t even sure why he couldn’t take it - it’s not as if you’d ever be stupid enough to fall for his brother’s plan.

“Tommy stop!” you giggle, brushing his hand from your curls as he pretends to mess them up.

That was enough. “C’mon Es we’re going.”

Your laughter dies down as you look up at John, his blue orbs cold and hard as they stare back at you.

For once, you couldn’t place the unvoiced emotion set on his face. For once, you couldn’t read the man you once considered your best friend.

[ceoofanticatradora]

As someone who not only loves Adora but also relates to her on a mental level it is beyond frustrating watching her Birthday go down. Because this day that should be around her? To celebrate her? It's not about her.

The fandom once again makes it about Catra. About Shipping. There is so much Art but how often do I see it is just her? Or her and her friends? It's disturbing even to see Catra with her all the time. Even more so when Catra is the focus, the center of attention. It feels like it's Catra's Birthday. The fandom basically gave her a "second" Birthday, once again trashing Adora. Walking all over her.

While it is not always Catra, just mainly: Adora is nothing but Shipping fuel in 90% of the content that exists of her.

You google "Adora Fanart"? Catradora all over the place the second you make it past the first few Artwoks that are actually just about her.

You look for Adora Stickers on PicsArt? Surprise, more Catradora.

The Adora Tag on Instagram? Surprisingly not filled with as much Catradora (today) as you'd expect but still to be found plenty.

What about Amino? A place much more welcoming to Non Catradora Shippers? Unfortunately even there a lot of the Adora (Birthday) content includes, often even revolves around Catra(dora).

All in one that makes me come to these conclusions. Once again it's not solely reduced to Catra(dora), it's just the most/much more common one and the one I have my biggest issues and negative experiences with.

A big part of the fandom does actually not care about Adora! This is only underlined by everyone making fun of her for being "stupid" ("haha, dumb lesbian, how could she not get Catra loved her all along!?") and ignoring all the abuse she went through because "poor Catra uwu she's traumatized from hurting Adora, Adora better comforts her uwu". As if Adora is not the one mentally (and much likely physically) scarred for all of her life because of being abused in all the cruel ways you could imagine: scratched, hit, kicked, slapped, thrown off cliffs, thrown against walls etc., kidnapped and tied up, pulled by the hair, tackled and shoved, gaslighted, insulted and guilt tripped, the list goes on ... Yeah, even worse some people even call her out for "hurting" and "betraying" Catra, saying she needs to apologize for being so cruel. Because in the end it's only Catra who matters to them.

Adding on to that point Adora is nothing but a trophy or accessoire in those peoples eyes. For them Adora cannot possibly exist on her own, as her own person or generally somewhere outside of her relationship with Catra because that's what "defines" her. Catra did the most horrible things but because she did one good thing and "works on being better" (I guess I don't even have to mention that Catra during and after her "redemption" is still a huge d*ck to basically everyone including Adora) she gets the girl. And God forbid you try to draw Adora in a Ship that is not Catradora. Even Glitradora is thin ice. Because "Catra is sad now :(", "Catra should be in place of XY", "That ... is not Catra? Lol C//A Canon you dummie", you get the idea. If you're lucky you escape insults. And sometimes get backhanded compliments: "Ewww, that ship is sooo gross but I guess nice Art". And if you ship Adora with nobody (except for happiness of course) like me? Oh my Gooood, how could I? Catradora has all this "amazing chemistry". (I should add I do support Ships like Glimmadora for what they are though. But generally I'd prefer to see Adora outside of her "romance/shipability" as many do not.)

Also in it's own way adding onto the second point Adora is no longer viewed or treated as the protagonist she is. No, that spot goes (how else could it be) to Catra, the antagonist of 4 Seasons. And unfortunately they are treated like this not only by the fandom but also the staff, including no other than Noelle herself. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power? I only know Catra and Catra and Catra again and how she got away with abusing almost every character in the entire show (especially her "love interest") without consequences because God forbid anything is not about her.

It's beyond saddening seeing almost everything about Adora being made about Shipping her, like she's not her own character with own interests, views and thoughts inside the show (though I gotta admit the fifth Season did throw basically all of that and her entire arc outside the window for the sake of one of the most toxic and abusive ships I've ever laid eyes upon, it being LGBT does not erase any of that).

Adora deserves better than that. She deserves some godamn respect and actual love (especially platonic) and the Anti Catradora Tag will f**king deliever on that! Because these people? They get it.

Also on a side note it is generally disturbing to view that Noelle made almost everyone end up with someone off and on screen. Like I don't need to explain how unrealistic that is. Hi, yes aromantic people exist and not everyone will find love at the same time just because the peace is restored (even if they are not aromantic).

[wevegottogetaway]

Crashing into you

Sooo, I have no idea where this concept came from but here is you and Harry surviving a plane crash only to find yourselves stranded on an island (featuring best friends to lovers and who knows what else). There is more to come after this part, I’m just really busy with uni at the moment, so smaller pieces at the time it is. Please leave some feedback if you have any, or tell me what you would like to see happen in future parts! Happy reading xx

It wasn’t supposed to happened.

None of it was. Not the birds. Not the fire. Not the nose-dive.

And you weren’t supposed to be there either. Weren’t supposed to find yourselves floating 35,000 feet over endless stretches of sea when it happened. Not you and certainly not Harry whose presence was only the result of his boundless generosity.

It was a last minute trip on your part, an emergency response to the calling of a friend back in London; they’d gotten hospitalized and you were their emergency contact, pretty simple maths. Your assistance was irremissible and since it was cutting your time short with Harry, he didn’t hesitate before offering both his support and an express flight aboard some kind of private jet. None of you knew it at the time, but that decision turned out to be a twisted expression of serendipity, a very sick jock that the universe wasn’t supposed to make.

Except it did happened and there was no escaping the cataclysm that ensued.

                                                        ***

The cabin of the small plane is plunged in peaceful silence, the deep whir of its engines and the soft snores wafting through Harry’s nose the only white noises filling the space. There is no fussing toddler, no businessman talking loudly on the phone, no arguing couple; just you and Harry, one flight attendant and two pilots. Everything around you looks pristine and expensive, from the champagne you were offered but declined at the beginning of the flight, to the refined suede upholstery covering all the seats.

You’re not used to the luxury, and frankly, neither is Harry.

He doesn’t use private planes very often, doesn’t think it makes much sense to waste all that toxic kerosene when commercial flights do the job perfectly, and doesn't like how they make him feel like the diva some people mistakenly make him out to be. But for you he’d bend the rules. For you he’d bend over and backwards to assuage any of your pains and worries. You had been so on edge when you told him about your friend, so desperate to be there for them,  he had just wanted to be there for you in turn.

That’s why the two of you hopped in this small aircraft nearly four hours ago, with his hand drawing comforting shapes on your back. Now, you find yourself absentmindedly nipping at your nails, overthinking ever possible scenario that could unfold once you land and find your friend. In deep conversation with your conscience, you’ve been looking out the small window to your right, as if any of the two blue immensities painting the horizon knew all the secrets that you needed. They don’t; if anything, they bring their own mysteries to an already confusing world.

The atmosphere inside the plane is so inert, it feels like someone pressed the pause button. The flight attendant has remained quietly by her station, waiting for any signal that would indicate her presence required, and the pilots haven’t piped a word since their polite ‘have a lovely flight,’ when you first boarded the plane. The little company wouldn’t bother you so much, if Harry hadn’t fallen asleep thirty minutes in, leaving you to your own devices. You figure you can’t be too grumpy about it though, he did just rent a plane for your sake after all. Plus, his unconscious state has allowed you to ogle his sleepy figure for hours without being noticed, a treat you’re rarely privy to on top of being a nice distraction from your current troublesome thoughts.

Three years. Three years you’ve been a very dedicated friend to him and he to you. Three years of holding each other’s hand through any hardships and laughing till you’re blue in the face; three years of always supporting each other in your craziest undertakings and inspiring each other to be the best version of yourselves. You two are an indestructible pair and your friendship is the purest, most sacred thing you were given in this world.

Except, it’s also been three years of mind-boggling and consuming feelings that can’t be quelled and have no limits. Three years of secret glances when he’s too focused on something else to notice. Three years of talking yourself down from those feeling, but to no avail; they keep coming back full force and with a vengeance. It quickly became a full time job really, an art you mastered over time. At first because he was happily in a relationship, so there was no speculating whether your affections could be returned. Then once that ended, you were already so wired to ignore the skip of your heartbeats when he looks at you tenderly, or the soft and sometimes borderline ambiguous cuddles he gives you when he’s had one too many Margaritas; that the fantasy of him loving you the way you do was just unfathomable, you never even considered speaking up about it.

But these were your three years, not his.

You let out a deep sigh, as your musings once again circle back to your unrequited love. You wish you had more control over them, could limit them to sleepy fabulation sweetening your mind right before you surrender to unconsciousness. But alas, them come and go as they please, slip into your mind at any inopportune time, often betraying you by pigmenting your cheeks in cerise-colored bashfulness. Even now, in the stillness of the pressurized cabin, as your eyes settle back on his slouched form in the seat opposite yours, your skin can’t help but heat up in fondness.

Before you can get too lost in the soft eyelashes caressing his cheekbones, or the cupid bow shaping his pink supple lips, or the way a few of his mischievous curls are dandling in front of his face, slightly fluttering at each soft puff coming out of his mouth…yeah, before you get too lost in all that, you reach for the small bottle of water sitting on a small table.

You barely have the cap unscrewed before a massive tremor shakes the whole aircraft, spilling half of the bottle’s content on your lap. Your hand immediately white knuckles the armrest of your seat, your eyes widening in fear and frantically scoping the cabin for the flight attendant or anyone that could tell you what the hell is going on. Then the panic pumping through your veins prompts you to check on Harry and wake him back to alertness, but to your relief, he’s already groggily shaking the slumber from his limbs with a deep frown on his face. "Wha’s goin’ on?"

If dread wasn’t firing each of your nerve-endings, you’d find his grumpy look and slurred speech quite adorable, but the sight of the frazzled-looking stewardess coming towards you is sending a different kind of chills down your spine. These people are trained to maintain composure in all circumstances, so her trepidation can only mean one of two things: she’s either very new at her job or there is clearly a cause for concern.

"You two need to fasten your seat belts immediately," she speaks hurriedly.

"Sophia, what’s going on?" Harry reiterates his question with more alarm.

"We’ve collided with a flock of birds. We don’t know the extent of the damage yet, so I need you two to buckle in."

You and Harry share a worried look then, still confused about the situation. The plane has regain some semblance of stability, it seems, but Sophia’s anxious behavior doesn’t sooth your nerves one bit. She makes a quick exit back toward the cockpit, probably to discuss the ordeal further with the pilots. You gulp your uneasiness away, fidgeting on your seat as your hands blindly feel around for the safety belt, but the image greeting your eyes as they veer back to the window has your heart dropping to your knees.

Lambent orange and red flaring from the engines and lapping at the wing. Black smoke leaving an angry trail behind the plane and fogging up the windows.

"Harry," you barely manage to breath his name out and the urgency of your tone has him straighten up in his seat. "Harry the wing is on fire." You twist your head back towards him only to find him jumping from his seat to plop down next to you. The absolute gleam of terror swimming in your eyes makes his blood turn cold, so he quickly takes your hand in both of his before glancing at the carnage taking place outside. He gulps in apprehension before buckling his seatbelt and checking that yours is clasped in as well.

"Fuck, okay, it’s okay, love. Everything’s gonna be okay." It’s more prayers than reassurances tumbling out of his mouth, squeezing at your hand in plea, and a couple seconds after his utterance the tremors resume with greater intensity. You both can feel the aircraft slanting downward as everything around you start shaking as though you were caught in an earthquake. Except, you couldn’t be further from earth at the moment, and the shaking is not going to just pass after a while.

Objects start falling and rolling down all over, the tray of complimentary drinks tumbling down from the back of the plane to crash at the front. You and Harry are wrapped up in a protective embrace, tucking your faces in each others neck to avoid impact and because you’re both too afraid to look at the unfurling chaos. You can feel your seatbelt straining against your lower belly in a dire attempt to keep you in one place, but as the plane starts plummeting for good, top becomes bottom, right becomes left, and your bodies become masses thrown around at the hands of gravity just like everything else.

The last thing you hear before everything goes south is a defeated ‘brace for impact’ coming from the small intercom of the cabin. You feel the brutal shock of the plane hitting smooth surface if it weren’t for the speed of the collision, and then it’s just water.

Water everywhere. Water enveloping your body in a frigid clutch, water weighing you down as it imbibes every fiber of your clothes, water invading your retinas and blurring your vision. Water seeping through your mouth, pouring into your lungs when you feel the skin at your shin torn by sharp metal.

You vaguely hear your name being shouted, but the shortage of oxygen in your system makes you feel delirious. At this point you barely have enough energy to fight unconsciousness, much less the threat of your crumbling surroundings. That’s how you don’t feel the hand grasping at your shoulder and hosting you up on a floating piece of broken wing. Harry is holding onto it for dear life as well, muttering more prayers and encouraging words for you to please stay with him but soon you are both overthrown by your unconscious, slowly drifting away on the makeshift buoy.

                                                        ***

When Harry regains consciousness, the first things he feels is hard grounds underneath him. His ears are ringing, his throat is sore and his mouth feels dry, not to mention the splitting headache jackhammering at his skull. Groaning and frowning at the pain, that’s when he realizes that the ground against the skin of his cheek isn’t completely hard, but rather granular at the touch. Slowly, he brings his hands higher near his face and flattens them to hoist himself up. Once on his knees, he finally blinks his eyes opened, squinting at the blinding luminosity of the sun. And then it’s just sand.

Sand everywhere. Sand stretching miles into the distance. Sand itching at the joints of his fingers, sand creeping inside his shoes and clothes, sand weaving through his hair. Sand obnoxiously lingering on his lips, and as he tries to brush it off with the back of his hand, he has to spit some out of his mouth after realizing that said hand is also covered in it.

How did he find himself stranded on a freaking island? How did this happen? How could he be one minute safely by your sides, helping you through a tough situation, and then the next, thrown into the deep end - quite literally - scrambling for his life because some dumb birds decided to crash in the engine of the plane? Why him, why-

It’s a jolt to his brain then, an electric shock firing his body up to a standing position when the thought of you clashes in his mind. His breathing picks up considerably as he recalls the last time he saw you, passed out on the broken part of the wrecked airplane. He’d passed out soon after you as well, but what had happened since then? Had you find your way on this desolate beach as well? Or had your unconscious body slipped back into the water and sank all the way to the ocean floor until you reached that hidden museum of all the things and beings that fell victim to the sea?

Harry shudders at the thought. No. He’s not loosing you, now or ever, he convinces himself as he frantically jogs along the beach. Not when he never got his chance. His heart is lodged in his throat and threatening to escape at every passing second. Not when he still has unfinished, or rather, un-commenced business with you. Sweat drips down his face in searing droplet, a faint sting above his left eye barely registering in his frantic mind. Not before you know his last secret. His breathing is starting to get scarce until finally, finally his blurry eyes fall upon a figure stretched out on the sand, waves still licking at their feet. His job turns into a sprint as he begs for them to be you and for you to still be alive, desperate cries of your name echoing in the wilderness. "Please be okay, please be okay, fuck I need y-"

His relief is short lived once he takes in your passed out form, the blueish hue of your lips and the very lack of movement of your chest, twisting his guts in a painful knot. Harry abruptly falls to his knees next to you and brings his ear to your body hoping for any indication that you are still breathing. He fights the onslaught of hyperventilation that threatens to take over his body when he finds none and quickly checks your pulse at your carotid. His eyes pinch in brief respite: it’s faint but it’s there.

His brain almost goes into overdrive as he tries to recall everything he knows about CPR before his hands instinctively start pressing at your chest as though they already know what to do. It gives him time to absorb all the composure he can muster and think more clearly. He’s got to keep your heart going, that much he knows, and if you’re not breathing, it’s probably because you’ve got water in your lungs. Upon the realization he briefly stops the cardiac massage to pinch your nose and blow as much air as he can into your mouth.

For the next couple of minutes he does just that, alternating between insufflating oxygen through your mouth and pressing at your heart. His own breaks every time he pulls away from your lips and they still don’t pink back up to their usual lovely cherry color. Tears roll down his face in a constant flow, forcing him to wipe his face against the material of his shirt at his shoulder; there is no way in hell he is stopping his action for even a fraction of a second. He’ll die trying to save you before you die on him, and then he’d kick you ass from heaven down to hell for even thinking of leaving him behind.

All of a sudden you start coughing wet sounds from your throat, your body jolting from its spot on the sand. Harry’s never been so happy to hear someone choke (on water, that is) and as you turn your body sideways to let out all the excess of water clogging your chest, he closes his eyes and tilts his head back towards the sky in gratitude. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispers out in relief, before regaining his breathing and focusing back on you. He draws soothing circle against your back as you cough the last bit of water out of your mouth, pushing your hair out of your face to give you space to breath. Lord knows you need it.

"It’s okay, pet. You’re okay, you’re alive. Fuck you’re alive, I can’t- please don’t ever do that to me ever again, you hear me?" He rambles at you as he cups your face with two trembling hands. He is in shamble in front of you, the high he was caught up in, in his order to save you finally dissolving and leaving only but shock and despair in its aftermath. You’d come this close to die in his arms, you both realize. This close from your life being highjacked from his in the middle of nowhere and the thought turns your blood even colder than it already is.

"‘kay, m’okay, Harry. We’re both okay," you reassure him too, and just hearing the sound of your hoarse voice is enough to calm him some. He brings you in a bear hug, tucking your face underneath his chin and draping is other arm over your back. You don’t hesitate before you return his embrace by wrapping your arms around his waist.

For a hot minute you remain intertwined in silence as you breath each other in and revel in the fact that you both survived the crash. Once your heartbeats have lowered down to healthier levels, you slightly part from each other and your eyes glisten as you lock them with his. "You saved my life, Harry," you whisper out to him with a tender caress at his cheeks, trying to ignore the small cut at his brow bone. "I just- thank you, thank you so much."

He answers with a small shake of his head, "don’t thank me, pet. I can’t imagine what I woulda done if y- if I couldn’t-" he struggles to let the words out and his face turns into a grimace at their implication. "M’just so relieved you’re alive, I’m the one thankful for that if anythin’," he ends up saying against the palm of your hand before leaving a small peck there.

As you move to stand up, you feel a sharp sting at your shin as soon as you apply pressure on your right leg. Looking down, you spot a gash at the skin, it’s not too profound that you won’t be able to walk, but it definitely needs tending to if you don’t want it to get infected. You let out a quiet ‘fuck’ in frustration before catching the look of concern of Harry’s face. "It’s fine," you brush it off, "just gonna need to clean it out. That cut on your face as well," you motion at his injury and he brings his hand up to feel out the cut in confusion. He hadn’t noticed the small wound, you realize. "Right, yeah," he answers after inspecting the patch of blood coating his fingers now.

Now that the shock of the situation is slowly dissipating and that reality is setting in, you both start thinking about the next course of action. You’re both alive and relatively unscathed, but now what? How do you get out form this place? Where even is this place? And how do you go home? It becomes increasingly obvious that you don’t have much resources and that you need some sort of plan if you want to survive.

"What about Sophia and the pilots? Do you know what happened to them?" you suddenly remember the rest of the crew. Perhaps they know more about how to proceed in such a situation. They might even know where you’re located, how far you are from home and what’s the procedure to ensure everyone’s survival and rescue.

"I dunno, love. Didn’t see them when we were in the water, I think they might have been on the other side of the plane," the somber look on his face betrays his pessimism as to their fate. They would be on the beach as well if they had survived. As the same reasoning courses through your mind, you look down in sadness at the vicious image of them struggling in the water before succumbing to the fatigue. Harry notices your pained expression and brings you back against his frame to leave a small comforting kiss at your hairline.

"Alright, it’s gonna be fine," you declare in pretend confidence. "People will start looking for us, right?" you try to make light of the conversation. "Hell, there’s probably going to be a whole unit created to find you as soon as we don’t show up in London and I’m sure they’ll find us fast." Hope is emulating in your belly where water had previously drown your vigor. You’re probably right; surely, if the one and only Harry Styles disappears in the middle of a plane crash, the response will be worthy of the man.  

He doesn’t seem to quite share the sentiment however, if the small frown and nervous nipping at his lips suggest anything. "Love, I- Jeff’s the only one who knows we were going back to England. He might not notice right away." It’s his own fear talking, the idea that it might take more than a day for people to notice their unsettling absence.

On a normal schedule, him and Jeff would be in constant contact, sharing details for the next day’s agenda, planning tours, interviews, promotions and pitching in ideas for new projects, but be that as it may, Harry was currently on vacation. He’d taken a couple weeks off to relieve the pressure from the last busy months and catch up on some much needed time with you, and Jeff knew that meant a little less consistent contact for this break to be as rejuvenating as expected. Would he think much of the absence of texts from his friend? At some point definitely, but how long would it take for concern to replace dismissal?

Talk about rejuvenation.

"What about the plane company?" you ask, not ready to see your hopes dwindle down.

He seems surprised at the thought for a second before the anxious lines on his face smooth out some, iridescent eyes locking with your own in renewed faith. "You’re right, Jeff was the one who made the booking, so the company will have to contact him once they know about the crash." You let your lips quirk into a soft smile at his optimism before he adds, "we just have to survive until then."

"Right," you dial back on the heart-talking and dares your brain to recall any tips about survival behavior you’ve ever heard. "So we need find water asap and to make a fire before the night falls." You know water should be your priority, you have three days before you die of dehydration, maybe even less under this blazing sun. And despite behind surrounded by water, you know that the sea can’t help you with that. It’s quite ironic in a sense, you find yourself trapped by water, yet the biggest threat to you in that instance is the lack of water consumption. As for the fire, you also know temperature can drop very low at night in places like this and since you don’t have anything to bundle yourselves in, hypothermia is your second biggest threat.

Harry nods in approval before looking around. The beach is enclosed between the sea and endless stretch of luxuriant green tropical jungle. "Come on then, we should try and see if anything from the plane made it out on the beach. I think I saw some pieces earlier, maybe we’ll find something to store water." You think it’s a brilliant idea since you will need some kind of container should you be successful in your quest for water. And with that, you both start walking back towards the edge of the shore, Harry’s hand holding tightly to your shoulder keeping you close to him.

➪ Masterlist