#wild sweet william

[vandaliatraveler]

Part 2: Early Summer Wildflower Palooza, Cranberry Glades. During the first week of July, as the orchids are peaking in the bogs and seeps, the first wave of summer wildflowers, including the milkweeds and beebalms, arrives in earnest, bringing a blaze of color to open meadows and bog and forest margins. In the old growth woods of the adjacent Cranberry Wilderness, an array of strange and beautiful fungi sprout from moss-covered logs and the forest floor.

From top: tall meadow rue (Thalictrum pubescens), also known as king of the meadow, a wetlands-loving perennial whose distinctive, cream-colored flowers are composed of thread-like stamens only; meadow phlox (Phlox maculata), also known as wild sweet William and spotted phlox, easily distinguished from other phlox species by its red-spotted stems; mountain wood sorrel (Oxalis montana); a ramp (Allium tricoccum) flower, which emerges in early summer on a leafless stalk, after the foliage has died back; a shiny hemlock varnish shelf (Ganoderma tsugae) assailed by pleasing fungus beetles (Megalodacne), rarely seen because they hide under leaf litter during the day and feed on Ganoderma fungi at night; a lovely colony of crown-tipped corals (Artomyces pyxidatus); the beguiling fringed loosestrife (Lysimachia ciliata), an aggressively-colonizing perennial that makes for a shady ground cover in native wildflower gardens; and that blazingly-beautiful mint, scarlet beebalm (Monarda didyma), whose storied history as a medicinal herb stems from its antiseptic and stimulant properties.

[faguscarolinensis]

Saponaria officinalis / Common Soapwort at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[chick-it-out]

!!!! phlox spotted :v

[i-identify-plants-in-pictures]

Saponaria officinalis / Wild Sweet William

[midnaurs]

Shirley talking more about The Children's Hour in her memoir My Lucky Stars: A Hollywood Memoir

[topoet]

In the Garden June 2024

June blooms in the garden – some, like the poppy, gone already – sweet william pansies poppy wild flowers flox hosta dusty miller astilbes orange daylilies

[z0mbiesnoon]

yeah !!! yeaaahhh.... !!

i had to im completely hyperfixated on this silly little arg

template by @fetusmeme

[atyourmerci]

☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

✩ ✩

“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

17

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

18

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

19

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[areyoufreeafterclass]

"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,

Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,

Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,

With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine."

William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

[faguscarolinensis]

Phlox divaricata 'Blue Moon' / 'Blue Moon' Woodland Phlox at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[edenspoem]

𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥!𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞: 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬.

note: just had this thought. this half-pure and mundane—but intimate thought about cowgirl!ellie again. what did we expect. mdni. suggestive themes. meant to be pictured in the wild west. discord. kofi.

trouble is found rearing godless heads in your pastures—as usual. be it animal, heretic or a trespassing posse, the homestead you search for solace in happens to be in an unfortunate area. men are the worst of them; with a saloon right in town vicinal to it, roisterers who stumble out this far do so with affected intentions, none of them good, lord-ridden ones.

now, what confounds you is the neglect to prepare you for these trespassers. it should be taught as a standard, right? wrong, you guess; father is the one neglecting this option. instead, he hires someone else. a girl-else. real beautiful one, too. nothin' wants a bargaining with her—their life, sidled against her gun in slim, muscled arms that tan in the neat, whiskey sun. hell, you wouldn't either. she spits on the metal barrel to wipe it down.

her total occupation is to ensure your solace, security—and happiness. however the last is achieved, is a secret kissed and not told.

she is awful sweet. an emobidment of rot-in-the-tooth, but it eases inside with small ligatures of addiction, following without a cause. she inhales sharp and long after pulling the rim of a glass from her heart-drawn lips, muttering, “damn, that time already?” and with squinted eyes in the shade of her hat—she looks too fuckin' cute. the chair she sits in groans under her shifting. “mhh—gotta hunt the perimeters. can't let no hounds claim a sheep-sized snack tonight, right?”

nothing but the words 'hunt' and 'hounds' trails into your ears. nothing other than the illicit escape to adventure unravels your knees to straighten and flips your head in her gunpowder-scented direction—the scent that lives in this house. she connects sights with you when your seat shifts, too: smug-faced. as though ms. williams expects a question to slip from that ever-quiet mouth. well, you part your lips for breath, and she beats you to it.

“wanna come?” that shotgun you wore intrigued eyes for—minus the cowgirl offerin' it—gets slinged over her shoulder. it fits the shape like a damn sleeve. “can't sit there playin' pretty all 'yer life—and i know you don't want to.” fuck, her salve-warm tone enraptures you.

the weald outside is grand in-person compared to what a window provides. chirps ring, but a growl can drag through the hollows and one can never be honest as to where it originates from. she states this in an earnest manner: with the pressure of her hand imprinting warmth to your chemise, onto your waist. “aim it down a little more. right.. there.” she pushes her voice so low in her chest, it turns her careful speech into intoxicating rasps. you get so lost, so distracted, she has to calibrate you herself—three of those fingers touching your arm. “there you go.” you can feel the shape of her vowels dust against your nape.

then, her leather-rough finger is guiding yours into the trigger loop, resting on top of it. “'n this part, i don't gotta explain. but you be mindful of it, yeah?” she turns, and the point of her nose respositions behind your ear. her lips—intentional. all she is, is redolent intention; not whispering into it, but along it. the little grin against your pulse suggests it. the slowing breath, aware of her closeness, proves it. “doin' so good..” then, her teeth bite down for a giggle.

guns aren't the special and lone thing she spits on to clean up, though; that mouth can—and was—used for more than it. and, perhaps, you adopt her strange methods too. do with that information as you will.

[judenostopwaitkeepgoing]

Your Villain... on a Leash!?

18+ | Suggestive Content | MDNI | EN-released!Villains x Fem!Reader

How would your favorite member of Crown react if you asked them to wear a collar and a leash for you...?

CW: Suggestive content, Dom/Sub dynamics, puppy/pet play, possible deviations from canon, fem reader, nothing super, super explicit, but these men are filthy so...

AN: Just more of my domming-the-Villains agenda! I feel like most (?) of the members of Crown are tops/doms, so it's fun to imagine them as subs! I just want to boss them all around so bad! Lol, Enjoy!! hehehe

William Rex

Will would have a lot of fun with this. He'd be beyond delighted that you are asserting yourself and asking for something that you desire, especially something that is so naughty. He's not usually the submissive type (his power can literally get him anything he wants lol) but he decides to indulge you because you're so cute when you're bossy. But! Unbeknownst to you, he is already scheming to one day lead you around on a leash in return. But until then he’d be grinning and panting like a true puppy, really playing it up and testing how affectionate of a pup you can handle! It's almost overwhelming! He might even bark!

Harrison Gray

Haha, I can't imagine Harry getting into this, but he might reluctantly wear a collar just for you. It'd have to be a time when no one else would see. He'd be too embarrassed! He would probably draw the line at being led around on a leash. Harry seems like more of a cat than a puppy... He'd come to you eventually and you could at least praise him for being such a sweet boy, enjoying the blush that he tries so hard to cover up. ;)

Liam Evans

Liam is kind of already wearing a collar, how convenient. He would get soooo turned on by this activity lol. The idea of you tugging him around, keeping him close to you all day, petting and praising him...? It would drive him wild. He'd want to do this all the time. He'd lick you and pant and everything. Liam is so obsessed with his mistress. He’d get really into being your sweet, doting puppy that he'd actually whine when you try to take off his collar lmao.

Elbert Greetia

Wouldn’t mind this at all! Actually he’d kind of be into it because it would signal that you want to keep him by your side all the time. He wouldn’t be the most effusive or expressive pup but he would be sweetly, silently awaiting your praises and caresses while you lead him around. The way he doesn't take his eyes off of you like a loyal guard dog is so endearing to you. Once you two are alone, he'd start begging for even more affection from his mistress...

Alfons Sylvatica

Hahahaha! Who knows! Would Alfons be into this? Hard to say! He's so kinky, but he also gives the impression that he likes to be the one in control. He’d probably like to see you try to be his master, and he might even get unexpectedly turned on at this display of assertiveness from you? But... I can’t imagine him being a well-behaved puppy. He'd probably do everything in his power to fuck with you haha. He'd be all like, "isn't it your job to train me?" Yeesh. Roger Barel

“Ooh...? And where would you lead me to, hm?” He’s actually kind of intrigued by this request from you. Roger is a certified top, but since it's you he'd want to see how you go about this. For science, of course. He would love having so many opportunities to get you flustered, since he’s attached to you by a leash. He wouldn’t want anyone to see him in a collar but you, though haha. So you'd have a very limited area where he would feel comfortable enough to be your dog. And, let's face it, he would wriggle out of his collar and pounce on you before you could even lead him around lol.

Victor

The "V" in Victor actually stands for "vers." Lol. Victor happily obliges this request haha. He's such a gentleman and also such a freak lol. How could he refuse. He would gaze at you affectionately while you put his collar on and ask you all kinds of leading questions throughout the day to tease you. “Does my pretty master want me to fetch something for her?” “Does my collar look cute enough for my extra adorable master?” He’d ham it up so much that you'd get all flustered and quit this whole thing. But he'd still be grinning ear to ear, because he's so obsessed with you lmao.

Jude Jazza

Hahahahahaha, oh you silly little robin. You're not gonna do this with him. Lol, so cute that you thought this request could even be uttered. Lmao. He'd pull one of his faces and be all like "Are ya actually a dumbass?" BUT! I could see him enjoying making fun of you for asking this so much that he kind of talks himself into trying it? But only if you're willing to barter. He'd be all like "I doubt you've got what it takes to train a dog like me." You’d have to let him tie you up and lead you around somewhere as payback. And he’d want it to be extra humiliating for you. You're kind of scared to agree to it, but... he’d be so sexy on a leash. Dear god. He’d be so pissy and annoying lol. Bratty puppy Jude? Yes please! Ugh and it would be fun to treat him like a dog for once...

Ellis Twilight

Jesus christ. Imagining Ellis... in a collar? and on a leash? is unreasonably hot??? He would of course be down to do this if you told him it'd make you happy. And of course he’d be so casual about it, just smirking at you and being all like “So that means you’ll lead me around on a walk all day?” He would be so affectionate with you, licking you and rubbing his fluffy hair against you all day. He'd ask, “What if I don’t want to leave my master’s side, even if she takes me off-leash?” And you would just die! Like what is wrong with him??? ugghhhhh, Ellis is THE nosebleed material!!!

[urfavoritegirlkisser]

"Midnight Rain" - Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader

a/n - finally getting back to writing!! it's been tough with school and stuff but I was finally able to write this, which had three drafts of how it could maybe go so enjoy!

Tags: Fem!Reader, Fem!Popstar!Reader, Rockstar!Ellie, wlw, slightly suggestive since it's kinda implied they had a one night stand, lightly proof read sorry babydolls, petnames like sweetheart and honey, playboy!Ellie, asshole!Ellie kinda, use of y/n, a little angsty won't lie, insecure!reader, lemme know if I forgot anything xoxo

You wake up to the constant ping of your phone on your nightstand, quickly realizing this wasn’t the hotel room your manager had arranged for you and registering the faint sound of the shower running.

Sitting up, you let yourself fully wake up before reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand

The top one is a message from your manager with the link to a news article

“Pop Star Y/N Not As Innocent As She Seems?”

The article is about some grainy photos and a video of you last night at an after party with Ellie, who is in a rock band under the same label as you, it was your first big win taking home a Grammy for ‘Best New Artist’ and you decided to let yourself loose for once.

Your management wanted to keep up this facade of a sweet young pop star and that meant no ‘going wild’ as your manager liked to call it.

So the photos of you dancing and making out with Ellie Williams, who was known for her bad reputation and playboy tendencies was not good for your reputation apparently.

Speak of the devil…

You realize the shower has turned off and you see as Ellie walks into the room, clad in just a sports bra and sweats as she dries her hair off with a towel.

She looks over and smirks, “Well look who finally decided to wake up” she says with a chuckle and offers you a shirt of her own

You blush slightly, putting on the shirt before grabbing your discarded undergarments and quickly slipping them on, “My manager messaged me an article, apparently someone took some photos and videos of us last night at the party”

Ellie sits on the bed with her back against the headboard, “So? Not the first time this has happened” she says while fiddling with the rings on her fingers

You sigh and roll your eyes, “I mean to you maybe, but my manager is currently on my ass about what we’re supposed to do now and-”

Ellie cuts you off with a scoff, “Sweetheart it’ll be fine, they’ll circulate the pictures for a few weeks and then everyone will be over it”

You sit there before turning to her fully, “Will you be over it too?” you ask softly

The look in her eyes makes you regret even asking that.

“What? You think this is going to continue once you walk out that door?” she says with a laugh that makes your heart drop to your stomach, “Look you’re cute and all but I have a reputation to keep, honey”

You felt stupid, because of course this would just be a one time thing for her, and you knew that.

Maybe you thought you would be the one to change that.

“Right…sorry, yeah, I’m gonna go” you say as you take off her shirt and just put on the dress you wore to the after party, grabbing your things and making your way to the door of Ellie’s hotel room.

“Honey, don’t be like that” Ellie calls after you but you simply walk out the door and to the elevators where you go to your room a couple floors up, setting your stuff down, changing into casual clothes and sitting down on your bed.

You don’t know why you thought that you could change her mind, it was a fun night, but one that was meant to be forgotten.

Everyone will forget it happened, including Ellie.

You’ll forget it happened.

an - sorry if that was all over the place, I rewrote this like three times, anyways go drink water you girl kissers xo

[catfern]

feed.

in support of palestine ∙ the reality of tlou ∙ resources

pairing: vampire!ellie williams x reader

music: angel - massive attack

word count: 630

summary: freshly turned, ellie has a hunger insatiable. you would bleed for her, but that's not all she wants.

warnings: pussy eating turned feeding, mentions and descriptions of blood, cannibalism (kinda), alludes to character death.

cat says ⎯ a quick little drabble to celebrate the start of autumn (fall, if you're a weirdo). also letting u guys know i'm alive barely! keep an eye on me, something fun coming soon!

sweet.

something sickly artificial, absent life beneath her tongue. a languid pulse, tired obligation.

pulling back, a gnawing feeling sits on ellie’s skin as she contemplates; the delicacy of a moment, so violently ruined by the willingness of her own temptation. the fever of something passed, as she watches the arc of your breathing on stained sheets.

you had agreed, so blindly loving, to the baring of her teeth. what a poorly hidden creature you had opened your arms to. come here, take my warmth, i shall feed you.

so very selfish, to long for more, to take. her tongue, taught to pull at the slick between your legs, thrumming a mean word, a trail down the pillow of your thigh. a soft whine dripped from the swell of your lips at the first feeling of her canines, press, press. a strained cry, the wound of an animal. ellie wonders if perhaps, you would curl away. an itch inside her told her not to let you.

glaring red, a sign to stop. a syrupy taste that bellowed the taunt of an addiction, something so, so easy to fall into. she watched the ichor pinken, mixed with the cotton shine painting the inside of your thighs.

“fuck…” a low, inserted rumble from the cavity of her chest. a call, answered. made for her own greed, your body now merely a vessel for this — awakened craving. she longs to feel the rip beneath this wicked invasion of ivory, the tears of your flesh, bitter on her tongue. if she pulled harshly enough, she thinks, she could even hear your body scream apart beneath her. 

wants and needs cloud the dimly shining lust in her, a newfound hunger choking that light. 

bleed.

shaky breaths crown on your ribcage, wordless mumbles dying in your throat. ellie would, maybe, laugh, something teasing, if not so consumed. a soft rhythm beneath her fingertips, buzzing in her skin, your own bastion of moribund life. she can feel you, feel your response to this … violation. and you want this? in some perversion of ellie’s own mind, you do. you want to feel the bite, teeth sinking into the hand with which you fed her.

you seize so unnaturally, beneath your lover’s teeth. pulled on strings, following a wicked path of pain, a stained rut of your hips, a whine amidst the blood.

ellie watches, impatiently, her own breath heavy and rotten through her nose. strings of red, falling across the plains of your stomach, the crooks of your neck, discovering as if not already a part of you, exotic on your own body. her mark is left here, deep in sconces of your flesh, pulling you on marionette wires with every scattered indulgence.

her tongue is a burning heat, tracing brutish, possessive trails in the fading delirium. her fingers press harsh fingerprints, inked in apple-ish reminiscence, across the curve of your breast, and your breath hitches.

“i can’t—“ she’s too close, too, too close. her breath melting against your skin. you can see her, blurred and wild, face flushed against the stretch of your legs. the eyes of a dog, wide and unforgiving and helpless, buried in the fading warmth of your body. you watch as one would something untamed, cornered. 

“you’re too good to me.”

ringing truth in your ears, a pained reminder as you lie, so eager to please, no matter the tax, in this hazy room of mortal lust and tenderhearted violence. 

ellie sits, she waits, for what she does not know. metal in the crooks of her teeth, a maple taste deep in her throat. to love is to consume, to swallow whole, to nourish. love shared is love lost, life lost.

ellie waits, shedding animal in dying skin, to rot in your memory.

⎯ kofi

[moonstruckmoony]

HL x Kuroshitsuji ✨

“Humans are easily tempted. When they are poised on the edge of hellish despair, and a spider-thin thread of salvation presents itself, they will invariably grasp it. No matter the human.” -Sebastian Michaelis

Winter Blackstone as Ciel Phantomhive

Sebastian Sallow as Sebastian Michaelis

Ominis Gaunt as Snake (Featuring Snake’s snakes: Emily, Oscar, and Wilde)

Phantomhive Household:

Poppy Sweeting as Finnian

Samantha Dale as Mey Rin

Garreth Weasley as Baldroy

William Blackstone as Vincent Phantomhive

Snowball as Sebastian the Black Borzoi

Midford Household

Anne Sallow as Elizabeth Midford

Natsai Onai as Francis Midford

Others

Amit Thakkar as Soma Asman Kadar

Imelda Reyes as Grell Sutcliff

Another disclaimer that the BG for the first one is inspired by AFK Journey, just think they look fitting for this.

· · ─────── ·❆ ❅ ❆· ─────── · ·

Happy New Year everyone! I’m back. This was actually a fun idea that was supposed to be for Halloween, and I did start working on it on Oct but some things happened to me so I had to take a step back for a while but I’m ok now and am present here! But hey, it isn’t Chinese New Year yet but 2025 is the year of the snake so posting it this year is kinda fitting, no? 🫢 I had no intention of going back on my word on finishing all the MCtober prompts no matter how long it takes (bcs the prompts are fun!) but I’ll take my sweet time and if I had ideas outside of the prompts I might work on those first before going back on track.

I just wanna say that I’m very grateful to be in this fandom, it let me rediscover the joy of drawing for myself again after years of not doing it consistently (I was mostly drawing for work.) I’ve been loving everyone I got to meet and make HL friends with so far.. love u guys 🫶✨Hoping for a year full of love, joy and stability (as stable as it can be) for everyone.

[cherry-pop-elf]

What their Amortentia would smell like: Weasley Edition

All you did was something so harmless. You entered the WWW shop, and explored. Found yourself by the love potions, uncorked it for shits and giggles, and the smell sends you down a rabbit hole

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

The beach. You smell the beach. The warm sand, the cool salt air, and the distant wind of beach flowers. It’s so warm, and inviting. The more you inhale, you smell something else. Marble. You smell cold stone, as if you were in Gringotts. A cooling scent to keep you grounded. A giggle leaves you, as you knew you smelled wet dog in there. You were going to keep that last detail to yourself. But, it did solidify something. He did smell like wet dog after his showers. You damn well knew it. Your Billy Boy.

Charlie

A smack to the face it was. This intense campfire. Very specifically a camp fire. Not a wood stove, not a fire place. It was a campfire. With those blends of nature, and burning of dried leaves. The smell of a campfire in the dead of night. When your eyes stopped watering from the smoke stench, you could smell something else. It’s almost like berries. Wild berries. A sweet, almost tart, against all that fire. Along with leather. Oh the leather clings to your throat. It stays with you, and hangs. That’s your Charlie alright.

Percy

Parchment. Parchment, and books. A rather bland scent. You swore you could even smell a freshly corked ink bottle as well. Amongst the paper, you smelled something else. Earth. You smelled earth. Specifically earth that had been freshly rained on. It’s such a soothing scent. Despite its blandness, it was comforting. It’s very familiar, and soothing. Just because it was simple, did not mean it was boring. It was his scent after all. It’s a simplistic, homey, scent. Simple, but never boring. Oh Percy. Your sweet little Percy.

Fred

Grape. That surprised you. Yes there was the expected. There was the scent of fire, gun powder, everything that defined a fire work. Yet, grape was a surprise. Grape, and tea. Specifically grape tea. There was also this distant taste of night air on the back of your tongue. As if you were enjoying a cup of cold grape tea, during a rainy night time sit on the porch. It was an almost mature scent. Fred? Mature? You were speechless. Yet, you couldn’t deny it. It’s him. It’s him to the smallest accent. Your Freddie.

George

Oranges. Oranges, and freshly made pastries. Yes, there was that familiar fire work scent, but you also smelled oranges. As if someone made orange cupcakes, and served it with an overly sugary coffee. It very much was a scent of someone waking up early in the morning. Fixing a cup of sugary coffee, with some freshly peeled oranges, while enjoying a freshly baked cookie. It’s so warm, and cozy. As if entering a kitchen, after the Fourth of July party. It’s so homey. Yep, that’s your Georgie.

Ron

Very fresh, funny enough. Like cut grass, and fresh laundry. It’s just a very homey scent. Like you were home sick, and you finally got to walk in through the front door again. It’s such a soft embrace. Like being hugged, after a rough day. You swear you even smell wool. Like of an old sweater, that’s been loved to death. Very musky, but in a good way. Like someone’s been working hard on a garden all day, and came inside to cool off. It’s such a warm scent. It makes you smile, and feel almost refreshed in a way. It was just right. It was home. Ron was your home, and he can make your day turn out for the better. Even if it’s just a few words. Your Ronnie.

Ginny

Wind. That’s the first thing that comes to mind. Just that scent of a windy day, where nature is carried through. The soft scents of floral undertones, mixed with fresh grass. There is also the scent of wood. Specifically freshly cut wood. Like someone had been whittling away, and was working hard on a project. Such earthy undertones, amongst the familiar scent of her favorite perfume. She wasn’t much of a girly girl, but that didn’t mean she hated femininity as a whole. Besides, her brother got it for her. That’s when you smiled. This was a scent of a little sister, that was loved so much, and strong in her independence. Oh that Gin Gin.