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#terrifying looking people are my favorite
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harry with a very pregnant y/n-headcanons
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-> Harry is the ultimate doting husband when Y/N is pregnant. "Let me get that for you, love," he murmurs, jumping up to fetch her whatever she needs before she can even ask. Y/N tries to protest that she's perfectly capable, but Harry insists on waiting on her hand and foot.
-> He constantly showers her with thoughtful gifts - fresh flower bouquets, her favorite snacks and treats, cozy new maternity outfits. "These are for my two favorite people," Harry says softly, cupping her bump as he presents the offerings. Anything to make his wife feel cherished and appreciated.
-> Harry can't get enough of cradling Y/N's bump and talking or singing softly to their unborn baby. He lies with his head in her lap for hours, utterly enamored as he watches her belly ripple with kicks. "Strong one, just like your mum," he chuckles.
-> Harry is in a perpetual state of awe and wonder throughout y/n's pregnancy. He spends hours just watching her, mesmerized by the way her body is changing and nurturing their child. "You're so incredible, you know that?" he murmurs, reverently tracing the outline of her growing belly.
-> When Y/N is feeling achy and sore, Harry draws her a steamy bath filled with fragrant rose petals and flickering candles. "This is your night to relax, my love," he murmurs, gently massaging her feet and lower back after she soaks.
-> Since Y/N tires easily, Harry cheerfully takes over all the cooking duties. "What's my pregnant queen craving tonight?" he asks with a wink, happily whipping up even the most bizarre food combinations her hormones demand.
-> When y/n's ankles start swelling, Harry insists on giving her regular foot massages. He's gentle and attentive, working out the tension in her muscles with skilled, nimble fingers. "Just relax, love. Let me take care of you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her ankle.
-> With nesting instincts in full force, Y/N can't stop buying things for the baby. Harry comes home to find she's purchased hundreds of newborn onesies. "Erm…I may have gone a bit overboard," she admits sheepishly.
-> He sneaks out to buy an entire nursery's worth of plush stuffed animals after seeing how Y/N's face lights up around them. When she wanders into the newly-decorated room, she bursts into happy tears. "For our little one," Harry says gruffly.
-> In Y/N's final weeks, Harry refuses to leave her side, terrified of missing the birth of their child. "Please, let me just sleep on the floor tonight," he begs, not wanting to be separated for even a moment. His overprotective hovering is both endearing and exasperating.
-> The pure, unguarded adoration in Harry's eyes whenever he looks at his pregnant wife is enough to make anyone swoon. "You're the most incredible, strong, beautiful woman," he tells her often, cradling her face tenderly.
-> After the baby's arrival, Harry dotes on Y/N even more - keeping the house tidy, ensuring she's rested and well-fed, while also being the most loving, smitten new father. "I've got you both," he murmurs, pressing kisses to her temple and the baby's downy head. "Always."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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A Room Away (No More)
Part 2 of A Room Away
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader
Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.
Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!
Word Count: 3.7k+ words
A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍
Picture from Pinterest
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.
Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.
The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.
Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.
“Are you okay?” Angela asks.
You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.
“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.
She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. “He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.
Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.
“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”
“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”
“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.
“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”
“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”
“I hope so.”
“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”
Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.
“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.
Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.
“You alright?” he asks.
It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”
Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.
“Hey,” Tim calls softly.
He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.
Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.
“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”
Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.
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The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.
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When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.
Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.
As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.
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Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?
Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.
Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?
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With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.
“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.
You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.
Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.
“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.
“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”
“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”
“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”
“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.
“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”
“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.
“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”
You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.
“Get out,” Tim orders.
“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.
“Out of my truck. Now.”
You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.
“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.
Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.
“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.
“Go home,” he says over the engine.
The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.
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Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.
After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.
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“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.
“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”
“I think that’s the other way around.”
“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”
Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.
Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?
Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.
Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.
“Tim?” you ask as you answer.
“When did the texts start?” he inquires.
“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”
“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”
You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.
“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.
“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”
“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.
“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.
“Be careful, Tim.”
“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”
“Right.”
“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”
“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”
“I promise I’m not mad at you.”
“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”
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Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.
Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.
“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.
He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”
“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.
“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”
“He’s not,” you agree.
Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.
“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”
She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.
Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.
You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.
“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”
“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.
Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.
Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.
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“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”
Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.
He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.
“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.
Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.
“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.
His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.
“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.
“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”
“Don’t forget Kojo.”
“I’ll get him.”
“Oh, you may need a key.”
Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.
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Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.
“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”
“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”
“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”
You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.
Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.
As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.
“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.
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coffincestuous · 3 days
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i’ve been super busy this month so i’m about (checks date) 15 days late to the progress report, but…
kit9 progress report #4!!
we have these two images to start us off!!
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before i get to leyley’s dialogue here, i want to say that i love the inside of wherever this is. is this part of the abandoned factory? is this just somewhere they found? i also see a hammer that stands out, and a particular door that’s boarded up. break in!!!
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i wonder if this is a genuinely flashback or a dream sequence? if it’s a dream, whose? we’ve seen both andrew and ashley have dreams about their past (ashley when the game starts episode one, and andrew when he falls asleep at their parents’ house), and from the devlogs, we know that we’re going to see a whole lot more of their past with the next update!! so, i wonder who this moment is important to?
anyway. leyley suggesting they start a shooting spree in a church is very in-character for her. i don’t think i have to ask how she got there or why, because she’s just kind of… like that. we see that same behavior when they’re going back to the hotel room to lure the cultist out:
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she’s so silly. my favorite problem girl.
the second image we have is this:
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ashley is in some cultist’s apartment? house? …where’s andrew? did they break in? probably not, considering the ritual on the floor being up and ready to go. is andrew around, or is it just ashley here? was she invited? did she invite herself? did they attend another cultist event??
the rune on the floor here is different from the runes we’ve seen previously!! the one in the first cultist’s house is your standard pentagram with five smaller pentagrams around it. the second one, at the cultist party, is also a pentagram with five smaller pentagrams around it (but it looks better than the first one).
welcome to “how to summon a demon 101” with ashley graves!
i assume ashley made some kind of snarky comment to provoke the cultist into identifying her boyfriend. it’d be really funny if she asked if the guy was their brother. really funny
finally, we have A VIDEO!!!!!
youtube
hoooooly shit!!!! teenage andrew!!!!! teenage julia!!!! it’s great to see they haven’t grown out of their emo fashion.
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julia’s so CUTE!!!!! it’s very sweet of her to reach out to andrew!! we know that andrew’s not the type to give a shit (internally) about rumors, but julia doesn’t know that. it’s very nice that she went out of her way to reassure him!!
it’s very surprising that andrew is the one who ultimately kickstarted their relationship. julia probably wasn’t going to say anything to him about her crush despite it being super super obvious. she’s very nervous and flustered in this scene!! the rumors surrounding him and ashley, regardless of truth, must have been harmful enough that he felt like he needed to step in to dispell them. andrew and his reputation… his care for ashley…
i love how we can see ashley’s interpretation of things and compare it to andrew’s interpretation of things. ashley’s view of the world is so skewed by her fears of abandonment and not being enough. she’s terrified of losing andrew, so anyone getting close to him is a threat that needs to be dealt with. but, andrew doesn’t have that same insecurity. he knows where he stands with ashley, he knows that no one can replace him in her life, and she can’t be replaced in his.
i’m so glad we get to see more of julia!! i know the game is titled the coffin of andy and leyley, but she’s important to the narrative!! she’s one of the few people to witness ashley’s full anger!! she was friends with nina!! she has seen how andrew acted when ashley wanted something!! i didn’t want to leave her in episode one…
it’s unfortunate that the next episodes will be delayed due to editor limitations, but that means that the game has so much content and i’m so exited to play it upon release!!!
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yo-yo-yoshiko · 7 months
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The best bug.
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rocicrew · 1 year
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THE EXPANSE 6.04 REDOUBT
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ribbittrobbit · 27 days
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has anyone read three body problem + seen the new netflix series pls tell me if im going to be disappointed or if i should watch it
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catacropolis · 1 year
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SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 7!!!!
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Malleus Overblot sketches
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modpoppy · 2 months
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doodled these in class to feel better about getting like a 60% on an exam so i dont think im gonna tag em
i feel like toki WANTS to be just a wittle kitty (he is not) (he is fucking terrifying)
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kaeyaphile · 15 days
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all thoughts, head full of ✨aventurine✨
+ a bunch of rambling/life updates in the tags, oops
#kayleigh.txt#y’all i seriously cannot stop thinking about this lil’ pixelated man 🫠#i officially have everything to fully level and max him and his lightcone and his traces 👏🏻#only e0s1 of course; i’m broke af 😅#hopefully for his rerun i can get some eidolons but alas not this time unfortunately 💔#he’s literally on the same level as kaeya in my heart; favorite hsr character for sure#(jing yuan has been demoted to my second favorite now because i am a silly goose)#i honestly never thought i’d be so adoring of hoyoverse characters but... here we are 🤷🏼‍♀️#actual legitimate feelings for real people??? ❎#actual legitimate feelings for fictional characters??? ✅#aNYWAYS the brainrot is really bad y’all and i apologize that my entire personality has been taken over by this man 🤡#i wish that i had an income right now so that i could commission some self–indulgent selfship art but alas 😩#once my irl bestie’s wedding and honeymoon is over on may 10th i will be going back to looking for a job 👌🏻#i’ve applied to probably 50+ jobs throughout the past few months and have heard absolutely nothing back 💀#i have given up for now; i have to get my mental health and autoimmune diseases under control first tbqh#i have a psychiatrist appointment on the 16th which i am terrified regarding but hopefully it goes well 🥲🤞🏻#and i am going to start a new injectable medication for my autoimmune diseases asap#i have to deep clean my house and revamp my reptile enclosures before i commit to a job as well ugh#i have to actually get my shit tf together before i start legitimately looking for a job again is what i’m saying 😂
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this rewatch of sdmi has been wild because once you start taking the talking animals and their place in the worldbuilding seriously it's just like oh wow this is some real final fantasy plot huh. what do you mean the resident discriminated-against beastfolk are not only descended from ancient otherworldly beings masquerading as gods, and not only driven insane even more effectively than non-beastfolk by a curse because of their heritage, and not only serve as apocalyptically powerful vessels for those otherworldly beings, but are easy to read as having been created specifically because they're more powerful vessels than normal animals, and then abandoned to their own devices (being enslaved) for thousands of years until the next time their creators pop into this reality and want a convenient corporeal form to snatch. which game in the series is this
#sdmi#scooby doo: mystery incorporated#shitposting#don't get me started on 'what if they look different to different people depending on what they expect to see'#'we're seeing them through the filter the gang/town would see them through; and/or the filter of the medium itself'#'and that filter might be kind of goofy and a bit abstracted; but still Recognizably Looks Like That Animal'#'if you take that away they look a whole lot less goofy and a *hell* of a lot more uncanny than what we get to see in the show'#'pericles is so completely removed from what his species is supposed to look like--#obviously his head is *way* more human-adjacent than a real parrot; but also there are notable differences from greys specifically--#because he has already been touched by the entity for his entire life; and he looks so completely different before and after the asylum#because the entity's had 20 years of isolation; among people who already see him as a terrifying monster; to turn all his influence on him'#'pericles looks the way he does because we are seeing the *real* pericles'#'or at least more of him than scooby or the others'#'that's what being the entity's special favorite will get you 🙃'#anyway these little fuckers are Interesting Actually and i'm having a lot of fun with them; even if the way canon handles them is upsetting#this isn't necessarily my main headcanon but it's one i like a lot and 'what do they *really* look like' might be a fun design challenge#SDMItag#to draw tag#professor pericles
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mataurin · 2 years
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When I talk about monster ivy it’s in reference to the concept of the sublime. Like I’m imagining that scene in annihilation where they come across that guy’s skeleton, or what’s left of it, and he’s covered in flowers and moss and fungi of all colors and it’s horrifying and beautiful at the same time. Art made from the grotesque. Cosmic horror shit. Unintelligible to the eye and inexplicable to the human mind. Decomposition, fungi living and thriving because of death, nature reclaiming her human body like an ancient statue, like a corpse uncovered in the deep woods, now made into a home for the wildlife that live off it. She’s beautiful, she’s terrifying, she’s awesome in the biblical sense of the word. Dust back to dust, dirt, decay, and glorious life again. A never ending cycle.
And I’m also referring to like. A creepy little bog creature who scrambles around on all fours and eats dirt.
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casekt · 11 months
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really feeling a way about eyrie being a healer tonight
#Astro my beloved ;—;#it really is just becoming my favorite healer of the bunch#it’s comfy it’s got good recovery it’s all Very Nice#astro also fits the best in eyrie’s lore—their experiences with healing magic are a mix of geomancy + astrology + whm after a fashion#i say whm but not truly whm the white magic eyrie knows is very distant and removed from that of gridania#but eyrie takes a lot of that healing knowledge and smooshes it into astro#while leveva looks on in fascination and an odd bit of horror#the stormblood quests are very much in line with eyrie’s brain#they’re like ah yes put these practices together yes thank you I already do that in some form#it’s also with geomancy and astrology that they are practices both created by viera peoples but also techniques borrowed#borrowed from times when there was not as strict boundaries of leaving#eyrie borrows the cards into the reading and the sextant and card holder used by astros to channel the healing magic#it’s a common practice back home that tools are not used and the body is the conduit for healing#it puts less strain to use the sextant and cards#i should read more on geomancy tbh#but I was watching cutscenes w eyrie as astro and it was A vibe that I was feeling#tbh eyrie in a trust would be an all arounder as an astro + bard + drk combo#I also have feelings about eyrie coming to terms with drk stuff though warrior and subsequently going back to drk#eyrie knows what myste is and it terrifies them to think of what is inside of them#so they stuff the broken soul deep in their things and leave it there#what created myste isn’t going away. it lurks—the feeling of it in their gut and unsettling#so warrior it is#oc: eyrie kisne#i am so sorry to whomever reads this rant
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sing-you-fools · 7 months
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thinking about Good Omens 2. and stories, and the shape of them, and Terry Pratchett and his themes. and something clicked.
Aziraphale is cackling.
it's not just the ball. he spends the entire season trying to force the story into a shape it's not, and everyone suffers for it.
i've seen some less than charitable takes on Crowley's actions and they all ignore how much Crowley did try to talk to Aziraphale, did try to ask Aziraphale questions, did try to help, only to be ignored or brushed off. because his questions, his offers, they didn’t fit with the story Aziraphale was telling himself.
quiet, gentle, and romantic. it was, if you're our favorite Angel - right up until the end, at least. because he decided that's the story he was in. from the very beginning, he's off in la-la land, living out this romcom with a cute little mystery wrapped up in it, completely ignoring what's actually going on around him. i'll set Nina and Maggie up! (completely ignoring that Nina tells him she has a partner, and at that point, he has no reason to think she's anything less than happy.) i'll take ~our~ car to go do investigate this silly little mystery (he's not taking it even a little bit seriously!) while you stay here and run the bookshop and it will be so quaint and domestic! soon we'll dance and confess our feelings that we obviously share because we're already so clearly a couple we just need to finally say it!
Crowley knows the entire time that they're in a horror story but Aziraphale ignores every attempt he makes to point that out because it doesn't fit the story he decided he's in the middle of.
he brushes off Crowley's concerns and questions - his QUESTIONS! - like they're nothing. he doesn't want to see it, so he doesn't. and Crowley should have told him more?
why would he?
when you are CLEARLY in distress and it's being BLATANTLY AND WILLFULLY IGNORED, what the fuck are you supposed to do? "Crowley didn't comminicate" well okay if I were having a panic attack about something and my husband completely ignored it, chattering on about our dinner plans or whatever, that wouldn’t exactly make me want to open up about what was wrong! that would send the very fucking clear signal that he didn't want to know!
words aren't the only way we communicate and Crowley's body language, the entire season, is that of someone who is living in a horror story, knows he's living in a horror story, and is fucking terrified. if Aziraphale were paying any attention to Crowley instead of focusing all his energy trying to set things up just so for the big climax of his love story, he would know something major was wrong.
why would Crowley have told him how cruel Gabriel was about the execution when Aziraphale's already so thoroughly convinced that heaven is pure and good and has shown over and over through the millennia that he's not really open to considering that it can be cruel!
just look at them at the dance. Crowley freaking out because there's a horde of demons out there and Aziraphale giggling as they go to dance. that's the whole season!
you know who Crowley reminds me of this season?
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he's watching helplessly and with increasing levels of distress as Aziraphale shoves every plot point into the romcom hole even though it's obviously not remotely romcom shaped! and i'm sick of people saying he was abusive because he raises his voice about it a few times!
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kakusu-shipping · 1 year
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How about,
💌- how do you communicate while you're apart? do you give eachother notes/letters? or do/can you text eachother?
Or/and
🎠- what do you do for leisure/entertainment? do you go places, play games together, or simply watch a movie and cuddle?
For any f/o really, but if you want a specific request 🤔 maybe Takashi (ohshc) or Vermont or Kass (your friend’s oc's (I love hearing about oc's people f/o))
As much as I want to talk about Vermont and Kass I don't have a lot of Domestic thoughts for them atm, so we'll go with Takashi. It's been a while sense I've gotten to talk about him anyway
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💌- How do you communicate while you're apart?
I spent most of middle school and my first year of Highschool an entire ocean away in America, so we're use to emailing back and forth a lot.
He wrote me a paper letter once, sent it with physical pictures of everyone and his new little pet Tanuki. That was just before I moved back to Japan. It was cute, helped make me feel better about moving back.
🎠- What do you do for leisure/entertainment?
Usually when we're hanging out one on one it's at Takashi's house, in his room, just kinda chillin. I've watched him put together miniature Gundams a few times, but usually it's just being in the same room doing our own stuff.
When Mitskuni knows we're hanging out though, he likes to meddle. Usually this means calling us, Satoshi, and Chika together to either watch a movie or play some new game he's gotten into. And it's almost always horror, which usually ends bad for scardy cat Takashi (and poor Chika)
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lucidfairies · 4 months
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science class [e.w]
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pairing: loser!ellie x cheerleader!reader
summary: when a new cheerleader arrives at ellie's college, face all dolled up and skirt-clad hips swaying, she all but wants to die.
warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, poc friendly, smoking, bottom!ellie, dom!fem!reader, tribbing, cunnilingus, nipple play, sorta thigh riding, overstim ‼️, ellie comes like five times
wc: 3.6k
top notes: I like accidentally made ellie sort of autistic but it's not my fault okay. also when I was writing this I was thinking abt how if this was a novel the reader would be black but I'm white so idk if I can like write that without like getting something wrong but sorry anyway
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sometimes ellie wished she was blind. she wished that she couldn't see pretty girls, because maybe then she wouldn't fall in love with everybody. especially you.
she was two weeks into her sophomore year of college when you showed up. immediately blinded by your beauty, she almost tripped down the hallway as you walked past, in a short little skirt, and a white shirt. your ponytail flicked as you walked by, meeting up with someone you knew already.
she knew she was fucked.
when she arrived at her class, she was astounded to see that you were sitting in the seat next to hers, chewing gum and typing on your computer with cute blue light glasses on. like it was nothing. like her world wasn't crashing down in front of her.
standing in the corner of the lecture room, she debated moving seats. there were plenty of open ones, but you chose the one next to her? how was she supposed to survive this class with a pretty girl next to her, observing everything she does?
the answer is, she wasn't going to.
she was simply going to perish from the sight of you, from being in your presence, because she certainly didn't deserve to be and-
"ellie, would you please sit down? you're creeping me out." her teacher said, and she shifted nervously, then sped to her seat with her gaze trained at the floor. "okay, let's dive in, shall we?"
and the lecture continued. like you weren't right there. she couldn't understand why everyone in the world wasn't looking at you right now, absolutely entrancing, the way you took cute aesthetic notes and reapplied your shiny clear lip gloss.
"ellie?" you said, hoping she truly answered to that. she turned, meeting your eyes with a nervous smile and rosey red cheeks. "hi. I'm y/n. I just wanted to tell you that I like your sweatshirt."
it was a ratty old thing that joel had given her years ago, with a faded queens logo and a hole in the armpit that she had to sew back together every time she washed the poor hoodie.
"it's nice to meet you," she said quietly, tucking back a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. she realized how strange she must've looked and stopped quickly, "my dad gave it to me when I was like 11. I've had it forever."
you giggled. you just fucking.. giggled. "you aren't one of those people who just wears it because it's cool though, right?" ellie shook her head violently.
"no, I love their music. I wish I was born in the eightees so I could've listened to them live and.. yeah. I really like them." she turned away from you ever so slightly, nervously over talking and terrified that she was embarrassing herself.
"hey, you're good. I wish I was too. my favorite song is probably back chat, but keep yourself alive is a close second. how about you?" and you let this loser girl next to you talk. and talk. and talk.
ellie didn't know that you were intrigued by her demeanor in every way. from the stickers on her lap top to the patches on her backpack, every detail about her you noticed. you observed the way she warmed up to people and let you strike up a conversation with her about anything once you knew her. and it was... cute. really fucking adorable.
ellie's life only got a million times harder after that. to add to her series of neverending death sentences, she now had to see you in your perfect makeup and effortless outfits everyday. instead of just showing up to class, you insisted on talking to ellie. about everything. cheer, your friends, some dude that was hitting on you.
and on top of that? she saw you in the hallways, or on campus and you smiled. waved, even. some days you even talked to her. in public. you weren't afraid to be friends with her. and though she had jesse and dina, she still had very little social experience, and you were like a breath of fresh air.
on a chilly wednesday afternoon, ellie was walking to the building that your class had been in, and caught a glance of some other lesbian couple on campus. that settled it. she was going to ask for your number today, it wasn't like she was proposing marriage. just something simple. easy.
"can I have your number?" she interrupted you mid-sentence. and you smiled. of course you fucking smiled. she prepared herself for the notorious rejection, after hearing rumors of you rejecting everyone that came up to you and asked for your socials we. she wasn't just anyone, though.
"duh, you only took forever to ask." ellie was frozen in place. had you wanted her to ask? couldn't you have asked for hers? but before she could overthink too much, you were shoving your phone in her face and ellie was putting her number in. "anyway, as I was saying.."
ellie tuned out what you were saying, purely by accident. there were too many big events going on in her life for her poor brain to handle. the love of her life just agreed to give her their number, and she was plotting her route to dina's dorm as quickly as possible to tell her everything.
"holy shit dina," she huffed, running her hands through her hair. "I asked for her number so she gave it to me, and we talked! dina, we talked. about things. I already have our life planned out. we're gonna have two kids and a dog, she'll be a stay at home mom, because I'll do everything for her. I would kill for this girl, dina." dina was unimpressed.
"you are such a loser, els. has anyone told you that before?" she wasn't a loser, she was just incredibly and obsessively in love with you. ellie rolled her eyes. "I say make a move. you never know what could come of it."
"I can't," she sighed, trying to find words. "I can't just make a move, what if she doesn't like me? what if she thinks I'm weird?" she frowned.
"you are weird. if she doesn't like you like that, then fuck her. maybe start with being friends?" ellie nodded. she thought you guys were already friends, but technically you never hung out outside of class, and you hadn't really texted that much (she got your number today, but that hardly mattered).
"should I invite her to jesse's on friday?" dina rubbed the back of her neck. jesse was in a frat, one of the largest on campus that had absolutely wild parties on the weekends, which weren't exactly the best place for first dates. but to ellie... smoking and drinking around hot people in a random basement? amazing.
"if you think she's into that, I'm not gonna stop you." ellie was up and out of dina's apartment quickly, biking back to the dorms and planning out everything that was going to happen on friday.
- - -
in ellie's defense, she overslept. she wasn't thinking much about grabbing a jacket when she was already going to be ten minutes late, so when she stopped outside and the cool air hit her like a brick, she was less than prepared. but it hardly mattered. today was the day she was going to invite you to jesse's party, so her stupid jacket was like a blip on her radar.
"ellie, you're turning blue." you said, once ellie stumbled into her seat next to you. she was in nothing but a loose fitting tee-shirt and jeans, nothing to protect her petite figure. you hadn't noticed before how toned her arms were, but you certainly did now.
"I'm fine, it-it-it's not that cold." her teeth chattered as she stealthy tried to rub her hands over her arms to create friction.
"ellie, baby, I have an extra sweatshirt," you giggled when her eyes widened, grabbing the sweatshirt and handing it to her. "wash it and return it to me whenever." it was a bland black sweatshirt, but it matched your outfit, and you were more than happy to give it to ellie.
ellie who was most definitely going to pass out. she was probably just cold. it wasn't because she could smell your perfume on your hoodie that you just handed her. like it was nothing. she was going to fall out of her chair, onto the floor, and die.
"thanks," she pulled it over her head and sunk into it. "I'll give it back next class- what are you doing on friday?" she tried to get her thoughts straight while you looked at her with an adorable smile.
"I'm actually packing up and leaving, I dropped out," ellie's face fell, "oh ellie you're face," you laughed hard, and her expression softened. "but I'm not doing anything. why? wanna ask me out?" ellie was definitely blushing hard.
"my friend jesse is having a party at his frat on friday, do you.. do you maybe wanna go?" you tilted your head and looked away, as if you actually needed to think about it.
"hm, I guess I can fit that into my schedule." ellie released the breath she was holding and looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again.
"uh that's great. it's kappa alpha, at nine. I would pick you up but I don't have a car,"
"how about I pick you up? what's your dorm number?" ellie texted you all the details, and it was settled. you were going on a date. together. in two days, and you were driving. ellie was on cloud nine- not even, cloud fucking ten.
- - -
"hey els," you giggled as she opened her dorm door. "oh, you look so cute! I'm definitely stealing this from you." you pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and messed with the corner of her collar, attached to a red flannel.
"oh thanks... it's yours if you want it." you knew if you asked she wouldn't ever have you give it back, maybe even give it to you right now. she stepped out of her room and shut the door, then followed you down the hallway.
"so who's this jesse kid? I hear a lot about him." you asked, turning on the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. the frat was on the other side of campus and ellie planned on walking? laughable.
"I really don't know him that well, he's dating my friend dina. he's a big stoner, but he's not super into the party scene. just goes 'cause the frat does." her eyes were trained out the window, not because she didn't want to listen to you, but because she was insatiably nervous.
"nice, nice." you paused for a moment. "are we gonna dance together or what? gonna save me a slow dance?" the tips of ellie's ears turned red.
"because I have such a roster." she joked, rolling her eyes. she would save every dance for you.
"perfect. is jesse's weed good?" she shrugged.
"it's okay. not as good as mine, and his plug is kinda shitty. whatever, it works. we're here." you pulled the car to a stop against the curb, in awe at how many people were coming in and out of the house.
ellie desperately needed to get high. maybe then she could talk to you like a normal person, not like she was trying to brush you off. when she found jesse, he was talking to dina and brushed her off. with a groan, she turned to find some other seller.
you were talking to someone, pretending not to pay attention to ellie skittering around the house talking to people she knew. maybe she wasn't as much of a loser as you thought, or maybe she was just a stoner. one of them. either way, she kept disappearing, but when you finally found her again, she was sitting on a couch, joint hanging from her lips as she talked with some friends.
"els," you fell next to her, taking the joint out of her mouth and taking a hit. "we should play beer pong." you suggested, smiling at her the way she liked.
"we were just talking about that," dina cut in, "me and jesse will play with you guys, won't we jes?" he turned back towards the three of you, dazed and a little confused. "that's a yes." ellie was burning lasers into dina, who was standing.
one of the tables was empty, and the group immediately moved to occupy it. you took your place next to ellie, teaming up with dina who was smirking at the end of the table. "you go first," you handed ellie the small white ball.
ellie was skilled, that's for sure. she made almost every single point, which had jesse drinking until he couldn't see straight. she was trying so hard not to focus on the way your bicep brushed against hers, and the way you giggled whenever you made a point. it just wasn't fair. none of this was fair.
"I definitely won." ellie said, as you made your way back inside. "you had, like, two drinks, max. I had jesse drinking for miles." you could tell she was on something now, the way she grinned and made eye contact and jokes were far from her usual character.
"don't you owe me a dance?" your hand locked with hers as you gently pulled her in the direction of where most people were dancing. you lifted her arm and spun her, pulling her back against your front by her hips.
ellie surely wasn't breathing. she was sure that she had died from alcohol consumption, or maybe someone stabbed her, and she was dead, in heaven. or a fever dream in a coma. there was no way in hell -in hell- that you were swaying your hips against her ass, cunt so fucking close to where she desperately needed you.
"this is fun, don'tcha think, ellie?" you whispered, voice low as you guided her hips with yours. her head fell back against your shoulder, alcohol wearing off as you ground her hips against your front. "I asked you a question, darlin."
"so fun," she muttered, eyes closed as she let you bring her hips back and forth with yours to the beat of the music. "wanna go upstairs?"
"ellie williams inviting me upstairs on the first date? dirty." you giggled, pulling away from her body. she was flushed, her boxers were already wet, and she had no clue what going upstairs entailed. but she needed you regardless. "lead the way, confident." she ran her sweaty hands down the front of her jeans and led you upstairs, to an empty bedroom. it was jesse's, and he wouldn't ever know.. right?
you were pulling her face against yours before she even got a chance to tell you that she didn't know what to do. you were definitely taking the lead on this one - not that ellie objected in any sense.
you nicked her bottom lip, eliciting blood at how chapped they were. you pushed your tongue into her mouth, smiling when she moaned and pulled you in by your waist. your hands traveled, brushing against her tits from beneath her tee shirt. obviously she didn't wear a bra, she was too cool and masc for that.
"you're desperate els," you sneered when you pulled away, pulling your crop top up and over your head. "take off your shirt and pants and lay down." ellie had no thoughts in her head; just you. you telling her to strip. this definitely wasn't a fever dream.
she quickly lost her shirt and pants, leaving lanky limbs and embarrassing boxers. her nipples were perked up, waiting to be sucked and slapped, and her face was red with a never ending blush.
when she laid down, you got on top of her, pushing her legs up around your waist as you sucked hickey after hickey into her neck. she was writhing and whining, begging for you to touch her further than just your hands still placed on her thighs. just from making out and hickies she was pushing her hips into you, clit hitting the fabric of your skirt as you moved to push your thigh between her legs.
"need you so bad," she whimpered when you finally diverted your attention from her neck down her chest. you left soft kisses between her tits and around them, before taking her nipple in your mouth and harshly sucking. like a false sense of security.
her hips were coming down hard and fast against your knee as you continued to mess with her tits, pulling her nipples between your fingers and grazing them with your teeth. she was just so fucking sensitive, and she barely even smoked anything.
knowing she was getting close, you moved your knee and kissed down her sternum, leaving a trail of shiny gloss as you got to the waistband of her boxers. "oh, poor baby, you've been waiting for this, haven't you?" you ran your thumb over the wet patch of her underwear.
"nghh- for so long," she moaned as her hips rutted into your palm. "I think about y- fuck- think about you when I..when I come," her eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, knowing she was sharing far more than she needed to.
"do you now?" you teased, pulling her boxers down her pale legs. you added them to the pile of clothes and admired how absolutely drenched she was, practically leaking onto the sheets. "what do you think about, princess?" you were bringing her legs over your shoulders, looking at her expectantly.
"think about you- mh- about this," she was immediately distracted by the way you kissed her clit. "about c-cuming on your- shit shit fuck," you pressed your tongue against her clit and licked, before sucking it into your mouth and painting patterns with your tongue.
after keeping your attention directly on her clit for a few minutes, you circled her entrance with your middle finger, lubing it up before pushing it in to the first knuckle and fuck, she was tight, holding onto your finger to the point you could hardly thrust.
"ellie, you gotta relax. we can stop if you want to." she shook her head violently, unclenching her eyes and trying to breathe. her body released its tension, which made everything less tense, allowing you to push your finger the rest of the way in.
and... she came. just like that, barely a finger deep her cunt, barely doing anything.
"jesus ellie," you laughed to yourself. you didn't wait for her to finish before you started fucking your finger into her. she whined and thrashed to get away from your hand, but you added another finger and pressed down on her hip to steady her. you curled your fingers up just enough to hit that sweet spot inside of her and she almost black out.
"fuck- s'too much.. s'too much," she slurred, drunk on your fingers. the bed shook lightly against the wall at the harshness of your thrusts.
"is it really, baby?" you grinned, before taking her clit in your mouth again. her moans were practically louder than the music downstairs, and her back was arching. she attempted to get away from you, pulling her hips away, but it was no use.
tears welled in her eyes as her stomach tightened. her pussy clenched around your fingers, sucking them in deep. you pressed against her spot as she came, making her let out a broken shriek.
ellie was definitely crying now. especially when you didn't stop... again. you just kept pounding your fingers into her, adding a third. just thinking about how hard she would cum on a strap instead of your fingers had you dizzy.
her second orgasm morphed into her third before you pulled your fingers out. they were drenched in cum, which was dripping down your arm and the sheets. ellie's cheeks were puffy from crying, hips twitching as she tried to breath.
"oh sweet girl, we're not done yet." you wiped your hand on the bed and climbed off of her, stripping yourself of your remaining clothes and coming back over her, kneeling between her legs.
you pushed her leg up, straddling her for a moment. her lips were parted, breathing heavily as she waited for you to drop against her. your lips quirked up into a smirk as you pressed your cunt against hers, head falling back as your clits met.
ellie's pussy was wet, covered in cum, ready to be fucked until she couldn't say any name but yours. you thrust your hips against hers, and she was crying again, pulling and flicking her own nipples as she listened to you moan and reveled at how phenomenal your pussy felt.
she pushed her hips into yours, so you held them down, forcing her to take whatever you gave her. you came down against her pelvis hard, almost to the point where it hurt, but ellie was living for it, sobbing out your name like it was God's.
"can't come again- I can't- fuck, nnghh," you forced two fingers into ellie's mouth and she shut up, sucking them like a slut.
"yes you can." your voice changed, something deeper and more dominant ripped out of you as you got close to your orgasm. a rock in your stomach dropped, and you could feel ellie getting close as you picked up the pace, moaning at how her cunt felt.
you came at the same time, cum mixing and smearing all over both of you. ellie was still crying, back arched as she moaned over and over. you kissed her ankle softly as you came down for your high, climbing off of her after a moment and laying next to her.
"I want you to be my girlfriend," ellie croaked, voice still hoarse for all the crying. you giggled, looking over at her with a grin.
"I think I can do that."
bottom notes: this is the longest fic I've written and I actually thought I wouldn't be able to get more than 2k words.. anyway sorry about the abrupt ending I kinda wanted to be done
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