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najia-cooks · 6 months

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[ID: One puffy circle of bread, and three which have been halved to show an internal pocket, on a striped blue and white kitchen towel. End ID]

خبز الكماج / Khubiz al-kmaj (Palestinian flatbread)

Khubiz al-kmaj is a thin flatbread with an internal pocket. It is commonly eaten with breakfast to scoop up dips such as hummus, used to eat stews, served alongside main dishes, and used to make sandwiches and to wrap falafel. "خُبْز," pronounced "khubz" or (in Levantine varieties of Arabic) "khubiz," comes from the root خ ب ز (kh-b-z), which also produces the word "خَبَزَ" "khabaza" (Levantine: "خَبَز" "khabaz"), "to bake."‎

This bread is eaten across the Levant and in Greece, with slight differences in terminology and style. It is variously called "خُبْز العَرَبِيّ" (khubz al-'arabiyy; Arabian bread), "خُبْز "البَلَدِيّ (khubz al-baladiyy; bread from my country), or (occasionally) "خُبْز البيتة" or "البيتا" (khubz al-bita), a borrowing from "pita." ("Pita" itself is perhaps from Greek "πίτα" "pita," or the modern Hebrew "פיתה.") The bread is referred to as "khubiz al-kmaj" in Palestine, from the Turkic "kömeç" / كُمَجْ‎ ("bread baked in ashes"). The collective term for the bread in general is كماج (kmāj); each individual piece of bread is referred to with the singulative "كماجة‎" (kmāja).

Today, kmaj is frequently made with white flour; some people add olive oil or milk powder to ensure a very soft dough. Leila el-Haddad writes that a more traditional method omits milk and uses whole white spring wheat, a whiteish wheat grain harvested in late spring and ground without removing the bran.

Since the late 20th century, many Palestinian households have used an electric cooker (طنجرة الكهرباء; ṭanjara al-kahrabā') to cook kmaj, placing one kmaja inside of the chamber and one on top and allowing both to bake at the same time. These aluminum and tin cookers, which were invented in Gaza and became popular there during the first intifada in the late 1980s, are designed to route electricity through a metal pipe or spiral wire on the underside of their lids, heating both the top and the inside of the cooker simultaneously.

The cookers' popularity can be attributed in part to a curfew that Israel imposed on Gazan refugee camps during the intifada, supposedly in an attempt to restrict the movements of resistance fighters. Refugees in the Jabalia camp in the north, for example, unable to afford home stoves, and without the necessary outdoor space to make familial clay ovens, would have to wait in line for hours every day to get bread from shared ovens, risking curfew violations; household electric cookers were far more convenient. The success of local industry and innovation in the form of Gazan-manufactured technology was also symbolically and strategically important during the first intifada, in which Palestinians employed strikes and boycotts (largely organized by women) of Israeli companies and goods as a strategy of resistance to occupation.

An electric cooker is still today considered a very important tool, as it spares families the need to purchase kmaj (the price of which was soaring compared to the cost of flour in the 2010s, and which was often of inferior quality compared to what could be made at home). They are frequently given as wedding or housewarming presents. Lack of access to electricity, though, imposes a limiting condition on the usage of these cookers, as Israel has for over a decade strangled the flow of power to Gaza: Abier Almasri wrote in 2017 that tasks such as cooking and laundry had to be rushed during the four or so hours a day when electricity was available. In this environment, electric cookers are useful in that they can prepare a lot of bread in a short period of time. Fathia Radwan said in 2022 that she would wake up early, after the nightly power outage, to prepare more than 100 loaves of bread at a time for her family of nine.

Today, the taxes that Israel levies on imports of raw materials into Gaza makes the cost of new electric cookers, which sometimes exceeds 120 shekels (37 USD), too expensive for some families to afford. The difficulty and expense of importing materials, and the impossibility of exporting goods to foreign markets with the advent of the 2007 siege, also limit the number of factories in Gaza that are able to manufacture these cooking pots. The aluminum industry, introduced to Gaza in the 1960s and once the basis of a manufacturing and economic renaissance in the region, deteriorated as a result of the siege, as factories were no longer able to export goods to the West Bank and were newly reliant on imports of raw materials from Egypt. Even parts to repair electric cookers are expensive, due to a tax levied on items judged by Israel to have a "dual," i.e. a possible civilian and military, use.

Still, repairman Iyad Faraj estimates that over half the homes in Gaza have and use an electric cooker, as maintaining, repairing, and operating one is cheaper than having a gas pipe installed (at 68 shekels, 20 USD) and purchasing gas. Electric pots thus stand in many homes as both a utilitarian item, and a symbol of Palestinian ingenuity and resistance to Israel's attempts at impoverishment and starvation.

Support Palestinian resistance by contributing to Palestine Action’s bail fund or to Palestine Legal’s defence fund, by attending court or making a sign to support the Elbit Eight, or by buying an e-sim for distribution in Gaza.

Ingredients:

500g (4 cups + 3 Tbsp) white whole wheat (spring) flour

1/2 Tbsp (5g) active dry yeast

1/2 Tbsp (6.25g) vegetarian granulated sugar

1/2 Tbsp (7.25g) kosher salt

About 2 1/4 cups (530mL) room-temperature water, divided

Olive oil

White whole wheat flour is flour that has a white color once ground, despite the fact that it includes both the bran and the germ of the wheatberry. It is milled from white spring wheat (so named because it is harvested in late spring).

You may instead mix white all-purpose flour and brown whole wheat flour in your desired proportion. Keep in mind that whole wheat flour will need more water and more kneading than white flour. If you’re using all white flour, you will need about 1 1/4 cup (300mL) water.

Instructions:

1. Mix flour, yeast, sugar, and salt in a large mixing bowl. Add water gradually until dry ingredients come together into a sticky dough.

2. Knead the dough on the countertop or in a wide, shallow bowl until smooth, about 5 minutes. (If using whole wheat or white whole wheat flour) continue incorporating water into the dough as you knead to maintain a tacky texture.

3. Fold the dough into a ball and return to the bowl, seam-side down. Pat the top of the dough with some olive oil, cover the bowl, and let rise for an hour.

4. Pinch the dough into about 8 balls of equal size (about 110g each). Cover and let rest for 10 minutes.

5. On a lightly floured surface, roll out each ball of dough into a circle about 1/4" (1/2cm) in thickness. Set dough circles on a surface prepared with parchment paper and cover closely with a kitchen towel or plastic wrap. Let rest and ferment for at least 1 and up to 10 hours.

An overnight rest is traditional in Palestine and will create a more complex flavor in the bread (see note below).

6. Remove each circle of dough from its resting place with a metal spatula and roll it out to a 1/4” thickness again. Preheat a baking stone or sheet in the top third of an oven at 500 °F (260 °C), and then cook breads in the oven for three minutes, until large bubbles have begun to form.

7. Flip bread over and cook for another 3 minutes on the other side, until golden brown and puffed up completely.

8. Wrap breads in a kitchen towel or tea towel and allow to steam for a few minutes while the others cook.

Notes

The climate where I live is dry enough that I have discovered a risk of my breads becoming crackers if I leave them out overnight. The dried-out flatbread does puff up in the oven, but the resulting product is not as nice and fluffy as it should be.

Through experimentation, I have found the best method of both preventing drying out and guaranteeing that the flatbreads will puff up during cooking the next day is:

1. Roll out the dough and place dough circles on a lightly oiled surface. Cover them closely with lightly oiled plastic wrap.

2. The next day, fold dough circles back into balls. Place seam-side down and roll out again on a lightly floured surface.

3. Bake as described above.

If you live in a humid environment, the first instructions given in the recipe above should work for you.

#Palestinian #bread #khubz #baking #breadmaking #long post /

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alizalayne · 2 months

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Hello! this will be a quick process post so that you can see how I needlefelted a fursuit head!

I began by following the "bucket head" tutorial by Matrices, then added a layer of polyfill so that I wouldn't use as much of my merino wool. This is how I typically make a doll head, my "core wool" is often polyfill because it really likes to clump together and fuse.

Overall, this project took about two months of my spare time. This is the first fursuit head I have made, but not my first needlefelt project.

I would really like to encourage other people to try making masks this way! You can do any kind of subtle color with wool and the wool fiber is very cheap. If you wanted to make a fursuit head with the entirety of starry night flowing over it, or a head with tons and tons of complex colors, I think wool might be the best material. I also did not need to know how to pattern or sew in order to make this-- it was sculpture rather than sewing, which I am bad at.

The rest under the cut!

Another angle where you can see that I am building up the structure of the head.

I then made the ears, which are translucent because they're felted, just like real ears!

I wasn't happy yet with the proportions at this point, so I spent a lot of time figuring that out and deciding where and how I'd be placing the eyes.

I made a pair of sculpey follow-me eyes by using a little soy sauce dish as a concave circular mold and tried a foam clay nose and teeth. The sculpey eyes could be more successful, they took a lot of shaving and adjusting to get right and they eventually cracked from the strain I'd put them through while making them more shallow. For a while, I intended to make wefts of white wool to use on the sides of the head, but I ended up preferring a domestic shorthair head shape because it reads the most clearly as a cat vs any other animal.

I originally intended to have the eyes behind clear plastic domes and used "shaker domes" that people use to make greeting cards to cover the eye, but in the end they made the eyes too dull. I made foam clay housing for the eyes and painted it pink with acrylic paint. I used stick-on car window tint to create the pupils. My visibility inside the head is really good!

Finally, after fiddling, one of the eyes was deeper than the other and I had to re-set both to account for it. I added spot glitter on top of the acrylic paint on the eye using some gold watercolor paint I had, which was silly because I'll need to wash the head at some point. I will probably seal the eyes before washing and hope for the best. I intend to spot clean the head until it absolutely needs to be washed, at which point I'll remove some pieces or find a way to protect them while soaking the head in a cool dr. bronner's bath.

I glued down a layer of felt fiber on top of the foam clay "tear ducts" and then felted new fiber over the tear duct skin and cheeks to blend them into the face. I also removed the teeth and closed her mouth because I didn't have time to adjust the teeth as much as I wanted before the con that my friends and I attended. I would like to modify this head so that she can open and close her mouth.

Lastly, I added wire whiskers with little glass beads looped onto the ends and paper eyelashes that I also watercolored and sealed, like the insides of the eyes. Like I said before, it's gonna be a problematic wash, but I'm confident I'll figure it out, and I can always repair her or replace her lashes if something goes wrong.

Last thing, to keep the inside of the head nice and cool and prevent fogging since in the end I closed the mouth and had sealed eyes, I made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece fitted into two collapsible auto funnels.

I would say that realistically this entire project cost me less than $150. I had some materials lying around, like the wire and the beads and the sculpey.

I added two ear vents on either side of the head so that I had options on where to feed the snorkel out. If you look at the other pictures on the blog of me wearing the head, you mostly can't even see the snorkel mouth. However, it was a little problematic to let go of the snorkel to talk. it would be perfect for a silent suiter, but I'm lucky that so many people wanted to talk to me. I'd like to try and replace the snorkel mouth with something I can talk in, but I'm not sure what to use. It should be something that can create a seal to keep my breath out of the head. it's possible that I will be able to make something with a painter's mask.

I hid the "seam" between the head and my body with two yards of tulle tied into a big bow and sewn down onto the neck so that it wouldn't move around.

I hope that if you try making something similar you'll show it to me!

#fursuit #fiber art #needlefelt #sculpture #dolls

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srvbryn · 4 months

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JOHN DORY. HELLO TROLLS!

Pairing: John Dory x F!Lover!Rock Trolls!Reader

Warning: I DIDN'T PROOF READ 🙌 I was struggling (I'm lazy)

Summary: You've been living with JD in Rhonda since you first met him 20 years ago, after Brozone disbanded.

So to sum it up, his brother's reaction (separated) meeting you for the first time.

Floyd part is a bittt longer because I'm picking favorite 🙄🙄

The contrast between the rhythmic beats of pop and the raw energy of rock seems weird at first but you and JD have been living with each other for 20 years.

So when you first meet his brothers + poppy, (more like when they first see you lol)

Meeting BRANCH + Poppy for the first time :

• Poppy was literally jumping from place to place when she first saw you inside Rhonda's driver seat.

• Branch was surprised to see another troll, EVEN MORE SO A ROCK TROLL? Other than his brother, inside Rhonda. He didn't think twice about asking JD questions. "Who exactly is she to you John Dory?"

• "My girlfriend" JD doesn't seem to mind when people find out about his relationship. To say the least, Branch was surprised to find a troll capable of handling his older brother.

• He's irritated that after Brozone disbanded, his brother didn't feel bad for abandoning him, but hey, that's in the past, and seriously, seeing as you were a rock trolls, it was quite surprising.

BRUCE :

• "Baby, we're home!" JD exclaimed as he, Poppy, Branch, and Bruce entered Rhonda.

• "What do you mean Baby?" Bruce was about to ask, but before he could, he saw you jump on JD and smother him with kisses on his face.

• When Bruce sees you properly after you jump off JD, he realises you aren't a pop trolls, but rather a rock trolls.

• To say the least, he was surprised, just like Branch, and it was amusing to see someone who could handle the "Leader" oh wow

• He's relieved that JD has finally toned down his domineering personality, unlike 20 years ago.

CLAY :

• JD forces you to go outside with him and the others to find Clay because you were always inside.

• When you saw that Clay decided to cut when JD when he's talking - and ignore him when he wants to hug Clay

• You were furious knowing that JD been struggling to change his whole demeanor and controlling personality

• "HEY! YOU CAN'T JUST IGNORE YOUR BROTHER LIKE THAT!" you stand in front of Clay with both of your hands on either side of your hips.

• JD's heart skipped a beat when you said that to Clay. He knew he wasn't the best older brother to them, but seeing you defend him when Clay ignores and cuts his words when he's talking warms his heart.

FLOYD :

• You finally get to meet Floyd a few days after the whole 'Saving Floyd from Velvet and Veneer rising superstar from Mount Rageous using family harmony' thing was successful.

• You were in Rhonda, and JD was sleeping next to you. You heard a knock on the door, opened it slightly, and saw pink hair with white streaks that you knew it was Floyd and let him in..

• "You must be the infamous (Name)" Floyd laughs. He wasn't surprised to see you as his older brother's partner. That's because you're very understanding and kind, which Floyd admires in others. He was relieved that someone like JD now had a partner who could handle him with ease.

• "I'm not exactly famous, but hey, my name is (Name)," you introduce yourself to Floyd. The only brother with whom you have yet to speak is finally in front of you.

• "and I'm Floyd" he offered a hand to shake and you shake his hand. "I just want to say thank you" he suddenly said out of the blue.

• "What?" You were perplexed as to why he abruptly said thank you?? "For staying with my older brother after Brozone split up." He's been through a lot, and I'm glad you were there to support him." He goes on.

• you smile, "hey JD I think I finally have a favorite brother" you yelled out.

#trolls band together x reader #trolls #john dory x reader #john dory #branch #trolls floyd #clay trolls #poppy trolls #bruce trolls

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burnednotburied · 9 days

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Chapter 3: Cursed Creatures

AO3 Link | Chapter 2 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas

Note: This is not at all how I thought this chapter would start. Alas, I am riddled with religious trauma, and Taylor Swift just released the song “Guilty as Sin?” I mean… “My boredom’s bone-deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks, Throwing my life to the WOLVES” Are you kidding me? It’s perfect. So this started out differently than I planned. But what was I to do? I am just a girl.

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There were many topics on which you had been educated in-depth but were never supposed to experience first-hand.

Sex was one of those topics.

You knew the mechanics of it. The anatomy that was involved. Its purposes and benefits. The dangers of it.

You had been told, vehemently, that it was something that should never be done outside of the safe and proper confines of marriage.

Which meant you could never do it because you could never marry.

The Prophet had to remain pure.

Set apart.

Free from romantic, familial, worldly ties.

You were taught to suppress any desire to do otherwise. A task that you had been mostly successful at upholding.

But there were times when your eyes lingered where they shouldn’t and your own thoughts made you shiver and blush.

It was the sin of lust.

The other major vices were usually easily circumvented. You could be disciplined and selfless, just and kind, modest and brave.

You always did what you were told, and you didn’t ask questions.

You told yourself that you weren’t weak; you just knew your place. You knew what was expected of you, and no other options had ever been made available.

So, like thrown clay, you had allowed yourself to be molded into the person you were today, each piece of you carefully and intentionally shaped by the hands of others.

The Elders created the perfect Seraphite specimen. Quietly devout. Enigmatic. Indelible. Untouchable. Obedient.

A mouthpiece disguised as a leader.

A Prophet.

They made you.

You were not a naturally occurring thing.

Sometimes you didn’t even feel human.

Lust was one sin you knew could be concealed, buried far below your surface, unseen by critical eyes.

It was a small act of rebellion. A hidden glimmer of defiance. Although, you weren’t doing it on purpose.

And it was made especially loathsome due to the regrettable fact that it only ever happened to you when you were looking at or thinking of a woman…

Now the Wolf stood in front of you, hammer held tightly in her right hand.

Demons were quickly descending upon you, and you had just witnessed (and neglected to intervene into) the death of three of your own people. The only person you helped was the Wolf, your enemy, who you were meant to kill.

You could guess what the Elders would say if they were here now. How disappointed they would look as they pointed out your many failings.

For once, you didn’t care.

Strangely, despite everything, you felt like a bird whose cage door was just thrown wide open.

Or a well-trained dog that had been mistakenly let off leash.

You could breathe. Unrestricted.

Your eyes remained glued to the Wolf.

Her back was to you, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin. Her shoulders rose with each of her deep, deliberate breaths.

Time seemed to slow as your eyes traced down the length of her arms, taking in her strong form…

See, you knew the sin of lust was bad, if only because it made you stupid.

Or distracted, at the very least.

Demons were coming, and you had just been moments away from gutting this girl.

You definitely couldn’t trust her.

But you didn’t have to trust her to look at her.

A series of snapping twigs and high-pitched shrieks from the surrounding forest instantly brought your attention back to the approaching threat.

Demons were another one of those things that they taught you about but never thought you’d actually encounter.

When you arrived on the mainland that morning, you had been led to the network of Seraphite-built bridges, above the city, concealed in the clouds.

Nearly your entire day had been spent in the sky.

If there were any Demons below, you didn’t see them.

Honestly, you hoped you’d never have to come across the cursed creatures.

The sounds they made were animalistic, but somehow still eerily human. Like a voice that was either enraged or overwhelmed with pain.

You had been told that they were unsavable. Completely consumed by the disease and irrevocably punished for their sins. No longer even human.

As a child, you heard stories of the first Prophet valiantly fighting off hordes in defense of her early followers.

In training, they taught you how to fight both Demons and human adversaries alike. Although the former was always theoretical.

You were shown sketches, detailing the different stages of it.

Foolishly, you thought you were ready.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for what came running out from the cover of the trees.

It moved faster than you would’ve thought possible, too quickly for you to take it all in, but the glimpses you captured were grotesque.

It went straight for the Wolf, swinging its arms wildly. She effortlessly dodged its attack before striking with the hammer. Hard. It was dead in just three blows.

Two more approached from behind you, closest to Lev, and it was past time for you to be useful.

Lev was a skilled archer, but he was still a kid. And Yara, also a kid, only had use of one of her arms.

Both of the Demons were focused on Lev. He fired an arrow, hitting one of them in the chest, but it didn’t take it down.

Its back was to you.

You couldn’t let yourself freeze again.

You closed the distance between you and the beast, lifting your dagger with both hands and bringing it back down swiftly, piercing deeply through its skull.

It let out one last pained shriek as it fell.

The Wolf had taken out the other Demon before Lev had to loose another arrow.

But there were two more where those came from. One swung at the Wolf, and the other came for you.

You were able to dodge, narrowly missing the impact of its savage attack. Stepping back, you continued to evade its blows.

You swung at it, but the thing was fast. Your blade cut into its shoulder instead of its head. Ripping your weapon out, you tried again. This time, you hit your target.

That was two for you.

“Prophet, look out!” Yara shouted. Before you could discern which direction the threat was coming from, you were brutally thrown to the ground, the wind knocked out of you entirely.

Death wore the grisly face of the Demon standing above you.

You had dropped your dagger, leaving you completely defenseless.

Lev’s arrows pierced its throat twice.

It kept coming.

You blinked and it was on the ground. The Wolf knelt over it, hammer crashing over its skull repeatedly, past when the thing was decidedly dead, until the hammer actually broke in her hand.

You just blinked again.

She saved you.

Why did she save you?

You scrambled to your feet, your breaths coming too quickly.

You tried not to panic.

You had only almost died.

You were fine.

The Wolf dropped the splintered remnants of the hammer and stood, shaking out her hand. You stared as she walked over to where your dagger lay on the ground and bent to pick it up.

She looked at you for—as far as you could tell—the first time since you’d cut her down from the rope.

She walked over, holding your gaze.

You realized that she could kill you now. That that was likely why she had saved you.

So she could end you herself.

Because you were the Prophet, and a Seraphite. Or because you had nearly killed her before.

She could even do it with your own weapon. The one that had been meant for her.

You imagined that would be satisfying for a brutish Wolf.

As she approached, you noticed that she towered over you, making you doubly aware of the fact that this was not a fight you would win if it came down to it. Especially when you were unarmed.

She stopped when she stood only a couple feet in front of you, turning the dagger over in her hand and simply offering it to you, handle-first.

Dumbly, you slowly reached out and took it.

Her hand fell back to her side.

There was a hint of a smug little smile on her face, like she knew what you had been thinking.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” she said, voice low. It was the first time she’d spoken directly to you, and you resented the way it made your cheeks warm.

Before you could come up with a competent response, Yara interrupted.

“Prophet, Wolf! Come on. We have to move!” She held a lit torch in her uninjured hand. Lev stood at her side, ready to run.

“Where are you going?” the Wolf asked, unsure if she would be following. You were already moving to join Yara and Lev.

“Out of these woods. We’ve gotta run! Now! The coast is this way.”

They took off into the trees with you close behind. The sound of footsteps falling behind you informed you of the Wolf’s apparent decision to tag along, at least for the time being.

You could also hear more Demons, closing in on either side, chasing the torch’s light. Which meant they were after Yara.

You ran faster, trying to close the distance between you just in case.

As she passed an abandoned vehicle, one of the Demons jumped out, tackling her to the ground.

Lev shot an arrow through its head as you ran to her, pushing the dead Demon off and helping her back to her feet.

The horrifying chorus of even more of them, just beyond your vision, made you startle with each screech.

“They’re all around us!” Yara cried, moving closer to her brother.

The Wolf, weaponless after breaking the hammer, quickly looked around, finding a glass bottle. She grabbed it and threw it at the next creature that emerged from the forest.

The Demon slowed, momentarily stunned, and the Wolf wasted no time knocking it over and bringing her foot down on its skull hard and fast.

Just one stomp and it was dead.

You flushed again, transfixed.

Stupid.

You should not find that attractive.

But she was undeniably incredible.

You shook your head in an attempt to refocus as you turned to watch Lev take down another with a couple well-aimed shots.

A shriek behind you revealed the presence of yet another. You turned to meet it, killing the thing easily enough.

It seemed your training in combat had been sufficient after all, at least where Demons were concerned.

“That was the last of them,” Yara said.

“You guys okay?” the Wolf asked, like she might actually care.

“Yeah,” Lev breathed out, bow and arrow still at the ready.

“We have to keep moving before more come,” Yara insisted, taking up the lead again as she pressed forward.

You all ran after her.

“Every direction looks the same,” said the Wolf. You were inclined to agree. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

“It has to be this way,” Yara said, quietly determined.

“What the hell am I doing?” the Wolf muttered to herself under her breath.

The four of you picked up your speed as the Demons grew closer.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Abby seriously had no idea what the hell she was doing.

She was running through the woods, fighting off Infected with three Scars.

And one of them was the Prophet.

Who had been fully intending to disembowel her not too long ago…

Something had to be wrong with her. Maybe it was brain damage from nearly suffocating.

Because this wasn’t like her.

A couple hours ago, Abby was killing Scars. Happily.

Well maybe that wasn’t the best word for it. It didn’t make her happy. She just didn’t feel bad about it.

And now, she was prancing through the forest and going out of her way to protect Scars?

The kids were one thing. They seemed to be just as in danger with other Scars as they were with the Infected.

What had that one woman called them? Apostates?

Abby had done enough reading to know what the word meant. She guessed they must have broken some stupid, insane rule and run off.

Or been kicked out.

Either way, from what Abby had gathered, they had gone rogue and were being hunted by their own people.

Which meant they weren’t necessarily her enemy.

But the other girl. The Prophet…

Abby didn’t know what was going on with you.

Were you going rogue too, or were your friends just dead and you needed help getting past the Infected and out of the woods?

And yeah, you had been about to kill her before. But you’d stopped as soon as there was a distraction. Took the out the second it was offered.

And then you had been the one to cut her down.

So maybe you didn’t want to kill her.

That counted for something, right?

Abby didn’t let herself think too much about how pretty you were.

How stunning your eyes looked when they met hers.

How your fingers felt, lightly grazing her bare skin for just a second, then leaving all too soon.

And how you had definitely blushed when she spoke to you.

See? She totally wasn’t thinking about any of that at all.

And she was probably delusional.

And way too distracted, spending any amount of time or energy thinking about such crazy shit while you were all actively running for your lives.

Abby was bringing up the rear of the group, and she knew a horde of Stalkers was not far behind her.

She really hoped these Scars knew where they were going.

“It’s just up here!” the girl, Yara, shouted from up ahead, leading the way to a wall of hanging vines.

The boy, Lev, pulled the vines aside, revealing an opening behind. Yara carefully but quickly maneuvered through. You waited until both she and Lev were on the other side before looking up at Abby expectantly.

There wasn’t time to argue, so Abby went next. You followed closely behind, then let the vines fall back into place, hiding your path from the Infected that pursued.

On the other side, Abby was met with the sight of several dead bodies, clearly recently slaughtered.

She couldn’t tell from this distance what had killed them. Or if they were Scar or WLF.

“Those are fresh. There another way around?” she asked, maneuvering around the corpses.

Lev spoke up. “If there were, would we be going this way?”

Okay. Fair point.

Yara pointed to a chain link fence with the torch. “Come on, Lev. Get it open.”

The kid tried to bend the steel wires up to create an opening. It didn’t budge, despite his efforts.

“Move,” Abby said. He did.

She strained as the piece of fencing gave way beneath her hands.

“Get in there, Prophet,” she said, teeth clenched.

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You quickly slid through the opening and popped up on the other side.

Finally, you were free of the suffocating forest.

The clearing was illuminated with light of the full moon.

You wandered on ahead as Lev, Yara, and the Wolf came through the fence behind you.

“Prophet?” A new voice spoke out as you turned the corner. The reverence in the person’s tone alone told you that you were dealing with a Seraphite.

You turned toward the voice to see a woman you recognized but whose name you couldn’t recall. She was large and stood tall, the side of her face bloody and a pickaxe in her grip.

She had been part of a patrolling squad in the area. You’d seen her briefly earlier in the day, with Emily, after the Wolf had been captured.

The woman saw that you were, in fact, who she thought you were, and she bowed her head out of respect.

“Are you alright, Prophet? What are you doing out here? Where is Emily?”

You were at a loss for words.

Her voice was calm and concerned now, but you knew that she would kill Lev, Yara, and the Wolf if given the chance.

“I—”

Your two friends entered the clearing behind you, drawing her eyes toward them.

“Apostates,” she hissed, and instantly her demeanor changed.

She rushed past you, ruthlessly throwing Yara to the ground and lifting Lev up by his neck.

You moved without thinking, your dagger still tightly clutched in your fingers. Again, you raised your arms above your head, just as you had done when fighting the Demons. Using all of your strength, you brought the blade down above her head, piercing her skull. The weapon was long enough that it exited through her chin.

Her body slackened and slumped to the ground. Dead.

You stared down at her, feeling the weight of what you had just done.

This wasn’t a Demon. It wasn’t an animal.

She was a living person.

And a Seraphite. One of your own people.

You were supposed to be her Prophet. Her leader. Her new hope.

She hadn’t been watching her back because she never imagined that you could betray your people like that. That you would pose a threat to her.

You continued to stare, holding your breath. You couldn’t look away.

You didn’t deserve to look away.

You felt a sob rising in your throat. Your eyes began to water.

No. You would not cry.

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Abby was the last to enter the clearing.

By then, the Scar was already holding Lev in the air, and you were already approaching from behind, lifting your dagger.

Abby watched as you killed her.

Woah.

You were good with that knife, she’d give you that.

Yara and Lev got back to their feet and watched as you stared down at the dead Scar, unmoving. Like you were frozen.

You weren’t even breathing, and you looked like you might cry.

Abby had been wondering how many WLF soldiers you killed today before you got to her. If the three she’d seen hanging when she first came to were yours.

Now, she was sure they weren’t.

Because based on your reaction, that had to be your first time.

She wasn’t usually one to be especially sensitive to the emotions of others, but when she heard you sniffle, finally taking in a ragged breath, she couldn’t help but move towards you.

Abby thought of her own first kill. How easy it was to do in the heat of the moment, but how torn up she’d been in the aftermath.

She understood that it was necessary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard as hell.

She fought the urge to put a hand on your shoulder, or even rub your back soothingly. Reminded herself of who you were and who she was and all the reasons why she shouldn’t even be here right now.

Instead, she bent to retrieve your dagger from the body. She tried to hand it back to you, but you were still stuck, staring down.

“Hey. You did a good job.” She took your hand in hers, placing the handle into your palm and closing your fingers around it. She didn’t let go, allowing her hands to fully encompass yours.

Abby waited until you met her eyes. “You saved them,” she said, nodding towards Lev and Yara, who were both silently watching this unfold. “You did what you had to do.”

You drew your eyebrows together at that, like you wanted to argue. But you seemed to change your mind, ultimately just nodding your head lightly.

She let her hands drop and glanced back down at the slumped body again, her eyes catching on something.

“Wait. Is that my backpack?” Abby asked, looking more closely.

Beside her, you lifted your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

“Probably. Emily gave it to her earlier,” you said numbly.

Abby didn’t need to ask who Emily was. She could guess.

She reclaimed her belongings while you pulled yourself together.

“Are you two alright?” you asked the siblings.

“Yes, Prophet,” Lev answered, watching you closely. Abby noticed that you seemed to bristle ever so slightly at his use of your title. You didn’t say anything though.

She held her rifle in her hands again, happy to have her stuff back.

Especially the guns.

Wordlessly, the Scar kids led the way into the nearest building.

Out of habit, Abby began gathering supplies as you went along, taking ammo and medical supplies and anything else that seemed useful.

“How’s the arm?” she asked Yara, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“I have it under control,” the girl insisted defensively.

“Okay…” Abby took a box of ammo from a cabinet. “Grab any supplies you find.”

“We can’t touch this stuff. It’s Old World,” Lev said, like that should’ve been obvious.

“Are you fu---? You need supplies. We’re not out of the woods yet.” She opened and then shut a drawer. “Pun fucking intended.”

“What’s a pun?” Lev asked from another room.

Abby didn’t have the energy to answer that question.

Instead she said, “I’ve never seen Scars go after Scars like that before.”

“Seraphites,” you and Lev corrected in unison as you explored different rooms of the building.

Again, she ignored. “So what the hell did you do?”

“I shaved my head,” Lev answered simply.

Abby scoffed. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

The group passed through building after dilapidated building, heading towards the coast. At least in theory.

“We’re almost there,” Yara said. “Just a little farther.”

She led the way down a steep drop-off into another run-down building. One where you wouldn’t be able to get back out the same way you went in.

“Now what?” Abby threw out, tired and frustrated.

“I’m quite confident it’s this way.”

“Quite confident?” Abby repeated incredulously.

“You don’t have to follow us,” Lev pointed out.

“You want me to leave you three out here alone?” Abby shot back.

Your response was an immediate and insistent, almost panicked, “No!”

Everyone else turned to you, surprised.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Lev offered.

Abby found the front doors, but they were held firmly closed by a metal gate on the outside.

Above the door was a large opening, too high for Abby to pull herself out of, but not too high for someone to climb through with a boost.

“If you get us through there, we’ll open the gate,” Lev said.

Abby remembered again that these were Scars she was dealing with. And like hell was she going to boost you all up to safety just so you could leave her stranded here.

“Get them out,” you said, as if you could read her mind. “I’ll stay with you.”

Lev started to protest but stopped after one shake of your head.

Abby nodded. “Okay. Come on.”

He gave you one last look before walking over to her, stepping into her open hands and pulling himself through the opening.

“Your turn.” Abby looked at Yara. “Watch that arm.” She carefully helped the injured girl maneuver up and out.

The all too familiar shriek of Infected sounded off behind you, coming from deeper in the building.

On the other side of the doors, Lev pushed at the gate. It wouldn’t budge.

“The gate’s stuck!”

“Fuck! Hurry up!” Abby looked back and forth between the door and the direction the Infected were coming from.

“We’ll look for another way!” Yara said, and the two of them disappeared from view.

Abby tried to stay calm and prepared herself for the inevitable fight.

“They’re not going to leave me,” you said, drawing her attention. You held your knife at the ready, rolling your shoulders back.

She didn’t respond, not sure if she believed you.

“They won’t,” you reiterated.

“I hope you’re right, Prophet.” She offered one of the weapons from her stash. “You ever shot a gun before?”

You shook your head but accepted the firearm anyway.

“Come here. I’ll show you.”

What Abby hoped would only be a few Infected turned out to be an entire horde. Runners, Stalkers, Clickers, and even a couple Shamblers.

You were fighting them off like a champ.

Seriously. She was impressed.

You’d kept the gun, watched her rushed demonstration on how to operate it, but ultimately chose to primarily stick with the dagger.

Both of you had been fighting for several minutes as you moved through the building. No sign of the other two Scars. Abby had pretty much resigned herself to needing to find her own way out.

She cleared the room she was in, lowering her weapon to take a breather.

You were in the next room, and it sounded like you had cleared that one out too.

The only warning Abby had before she felt the blow was you urgently shouting, “Wolf!”

A Stalker that she failed to notice had her pinned to the ground, knocking her rifle from her grip in the process.

It reared its head back as Abby struggled, fighting to get it off her.

A gunshot rang out, and the Infected slumped, lifeless.

She shoved it off her and sat up to see you standing there, borrowed gun still aimed and ready.

“Good girl!” Abby exclaimed, beaming up at you from where she sat on the floor.

Wait.

What the fuck?

She meant to say “good job”…

Actually, she hadn’t meant to say anything.

You lowered the weapon. Based on the look on your face, you were just as taken aback by her use of those words as Abby was. Although, she managed to keep it from showing on her face. Mostly.

She stood quickly and fumbled through a recovery. “Good shot. That was—I mean—It was a good… A good shot. Good job.”

You smiled softly at Abby’s obvious display of nerves, walking over to where her rifle had fallen when she was attacked.

You picked it up and returned it to her.

“Try not to drop that again, yeah?” you said, mimicking the teasing tone Abby had used when she said those same words to you earlier that night.

She made a face. Something that was equal parts embarrassment and amusement.

“Prophet! Over here!” came Lev’s quiet voice from the next room.

You shot Abby an I told you so look before the two of you ran after the sound.

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When Yara collapsed, the Wolf picked her up and carried her.

You listened as she quietly comforted your dear friend, encouraging her to keep breathing and promising to find somewhere to rest soon.

Your heart felt soft for her in that moment.

Or maybe you were just exhausted.

Lev led the group with you in the back, gun drawn and alert to the best of your current abilities.

You entered a clearing, full of enormous metal boxes and small, raised buildings. All things from the Old World that you had never seen before and didn’t have words for.

The Wolf instructed Lev to start checking the doors of all the small buildings. It took a few tries before he found one that was open.

The inside was in noticeably better shape than any other structure you’d seen on the mainland, with a few simple, fully intact pieces of furniture.

You watched as the Wolf moved through the first small room and into the second, carefully setting Yara down on the couch. She went over to the windows, checking again to make sure the four of you hadn’t been followed.

When Yara began to slowly remove her overshirt, you were quick to help, being especially careful with her injured arm.

It was swollen and bright red from her elbow down to her fingertips, visibly mangled. You had to bite back a gasp.

Lev stood on the other side of the room, a horribly worried expression on his face.

It wouldn’t be helpful for you to panic now.

“Hey,” you said to him, light and encouraging, drawing his gaze to you and away from his hurt older sister. “It just needs to be set. Okay?”

You turned your eyes to the Wolf who was still hovering by the window. “You know how to do that?”

The face she made confirmed what you already knew. Yara needed much more than just for the arm to be set.

Still, the Wolf walked over, instructing Lev to cut the discarded overshirt into strips and telling Yara to lean back.

You helped her, kneeling on the floor by the side of the couch where her head lay, ready to assist in any way you could.

“I’m gonna move it, okay?” said the Wolf.

“Okay.”

They were both speaking so softly.

“You ready?” she asked.

Yara nodded, reaching her uninjured hand out for one of yours. You held it, letting her squeeze as tightly as she needed to.

The crunching noise the arm made as it was set nearly made you sick.

Yara let out a series of pained noises, panting and grunting. You used your free hand to gently brush the loose strands of her hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears.

You whispered that the worst was over, and that she would be okay now.

You didn’t know if that was true, but you hoped it comforted her a little.

The Wolf broke a leg off a wooden chair, took the newly cut strips of fabric that Lev offered, and went to work bracing the newly-set arm, using the chair leg as a splint.

Yara watched the Wolf’s face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The Wolf secured the last piece of cloth before she answered, meeting Yara’s gaze.

“Abby,” she said.

She stood, looking to Lev and then to you.

“I should go,” the Wolf—Abby—said.

You stood too, to walk her out.

Lev quickly filled in the space that you left, kneeling in the same spot and taking Yara’s waiting hand in his.

Abby grabbed her backpack and followed you into the first room, toward the door.

You paused, turning to face her.

“Are you—” You wanted to ask where she was going. What she would do next. Really, if you were being honest, you didn’t want her to go at all.

But you didn’t have the right to ask for any of those things, so instead you went with, “Are you okay?”

You gestured to your neck, meaning to indicate the dark, noose-shaped bruises that circled her own throat.

It felt like so long ago that she’d been hanging in front of you, unfortunate to find herself on the wrong end of your dagger. But, realistically, only a couple of hours had gone by.

She cleared her throat, her own fingers instinctively ghosting over the marks.

“Oh umm… Yeah. It’ll be fine.” She waited a beat before adding, “Thanks for cutting me down.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, considering it was technically your fault she needed to be cut down in the first place.

You settled on a nod and a tight smile.

She turned to go, twisting the doorhandle and stepping back out into the rain.

Before you could close the door behind her, she looked back and said, “This area gets a lot of traffic. Whatever shape she’s in…” Abby leaned closer, hand on the door frame, “You need to get out of here by tomorrow.”

Again, you nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

She held your gaze for a moment longer before she turned and walked down the steps.

You shut and locked the door.

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As Abby walked away from the office trailer, she couldn’t help the images that came to mind.

She kept envisioning you and Lev and Yara, dead.

Hanged and gutted by the Scars.

Or shot by the WLF.

Or ripped to shreds by Infected.

She had real responsibilities. A friend to look for. A whole community counting on her.

She had a war to get back to.

But if she left now, would she always wonder about what happened to you?

The urge to stay near you—to protect you—was so overwhelming. She didn’t know where it was coming from or what she should do with it.

You were not safe, but she knew you were much safer with her.

Isaac had warned her that the first Scar Prophet had been able to make even the most dedicated soldiers turn on a dime. He said that with just a few carefully chosen words, she could make a person question where their loyalties lied.

It had seemed so ridiculous just that morning, but now you were doing the same thing to Abby.

You were in her head.

But this didn’t feel like manipulation.

She didn’t know what it was that drew her to you, but it felt real. Natural. And entirely unintentional.

Or maybe she was reading you all wrong, and you really were a master manipulator.

Abby needed to make a decision. Because she was currently standing still in the pouring rain with the trailer still in view.

She chose to trust her gut.

And her gut was telling her to turn around. To stay with you.

Owen would have to wait.

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Note: Thank you to anyone who’s read all three chapters of this! The fact that literally anyone has is absolutely bonkers to me. I’ve already learned so much about myself as a writer since I started writing fics a couple weeks ago. For example, this week I learned that I DO NOT enjoy writing fight scenes… Unfortunately it was thoroughly unavoidable for this chapter. Regardless, I really hope it was interesting to read, and I’m looking forward to fleshing out the relationship between Abby and my reader more and more!

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

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heejayy · 1 year

Text

Paint me

Warning • 18+, nudity, swearing, cunnilingus (reader receiving), scissoring!

Genre • smut! Slow burn?…kinda

Pairing • Artist! Shuri x Black fem! Reader

Life was not cutting you any slack recently. It’s like everything you needed to go right went wrong, so it was either jumping in the middle of traffic or find a way to relax. As tempting as running into traffic sounded you opted to try and calm your nerves. Your friend Riri knew what you were going through and joked about how her friend went it a nude artist and just laid there for hours eating and getting painted, it was scandalous but it also sounded fun. Out of curiosity and desperation, you searched it up and signed up for a session.

That’s how you found yourself being a nude model for a day.

“Ok ok I can do this just one day. One day of being completely naked in front of a random stranger ” you clung onto your purse straps for dear life trying to soothe yourself as you walked down the studio hallway, it held a smell of fresh acrylic paint and clay.

“Room 2b” you whispered over and over to yourself until you found it, when successful you knocked lightly three times.

“Come in!” A firm but soft voice called from behind the door. You walked in to see big and small canvases scattered all around with beautiful artwork ranging from nude people to random paintings. You were in awe of how realistic they were.

“You must be y/n, hi I’m Shuri nice to meet you” You turned around to be met by a tall slim but muscular woman holding out her paint-covered hand. She was beautiful, she could be art herself.

“Hi yes I’m y/n” she smiled shaking your hand.

“Welcome to my studio, are you new to this?” You raise your eyebrows confused, “Nude modeling I mean.”

“Oh oh yes this is my first time” she nodded with a warm smile.

“Well I’ll try to make you comfortable as possible, shall we jump right in?” You nodded.

“There’s a changing room right there feel free to take your time” You followed where she pointed, and you entered the spacious dressing room nervously. You’re more nervous now than before, you didn’t think she’d be so damn attractive.

“Dear god, what am I doing?” You can’t believe you’re about to let someone paint you naked.

You looked in the full-length body mirror and sighed, you pulled off your shirt, pants, and socks, then you unclipped your bra and slid off your panties. You grabbed your complimentary robe covering your expose body and walked out.

“Ok I’m ready” you whispered picking at the fuzzy robe, she looked at you from her phone and smiled.

“Perfect, now come here “As you shyly made your way over to her your cheeks began to heat up, why is she making you blush? You just met her.

“Now what I need for you to do is to sit on this couch for me” She guided you forest green suede Victorian-styled couch. You did as she asked and waited for further instructions.

“Since this is your first time we won’t do anything to exposing unless that’s what you want” you shook your head “No that’ll be fine.”

“Are you ready?” She asked getting her supplies prepared. You nodded as you slowly slid off your robe, there was an awkward silence as you sat there while Shuri stole glances at you. You looked away shyly wanting to wrap the robe back around your body.

Shuri cleared her throat “ok what I want you to do is lie down, take your right arm and cover your breast, take your left hand and drape it between your legs, raise your right knee a bit then turn your to look at me” you tried to follow her instructions and when you thought you had it you glanced at her for confirmation. She just chuckled and began to approach you.

“No my love you look stiff and afraid I need to be relaxed, may I touch you?” You nodded slowly.

She grabbed your hand fixing it over your boobs, her hand grazed your under boob and sent shivers down your spine. You hope she didn’t notice your awkward behavior. She then placed her tatted hand under your knee slightly moving it down a bit. Her hands were so cold against your warm skin that it felt like sparks.

“Can you arch for me?” Your head snapped to her, a little taken back by her question you let out a weak “Huh?”

“Just arch for me, makes it seem a little more natural” Again you did as asked and looked at her for confirmation. She nodded smiling “Yes just like that.” You reciprocated her smile as you began to feel a pulsating feeling between your legs, you bit the inside of your cheek hoping it would go away.

“Alright if you are comfortable we can start, you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

She scanned her supplies looking for a sketch pencil and began, she studied you carefully taking in all your beauty. You watched her hand quickly move as her eyes flickered back and forth from the canvas.

“By the way you have a beautiful body, I like your tattoos also, and that surprised me you don’t seem like one to have tattoos” You listened to the way she complimented you and your body made you more flustered by the second.

“Thank you.”

“You’re a quiet one” you blinked out of your daze “Oh uh well what would you like to talk about?”

She thought for a second “Hmm I don’t know, how about you tell me what got you into nude modeling?”

“Well my friend made a joke about how I could calm my anxiety and nerves by just relaxing and letting someone paint me, so I looked into it and here I am” she chuckled with a nod “Interesting.”

“So what got you into painting nude people?” She smiled seeming like she was waiting on that question.

“Well I enjoy all forms of art but painting has to be my favorite, I discovered the interest of painting nude people through my ex-girlfriend. She was into that Renaissance romanticism stuff and she asked me to paint her naked so I did” You slightly nodded trying to not move much.

“So your girlfriend was the reason you found your love for painting?”

“Sort of but I don’t credit her too much” you giggled, your giggle caused her to look at you and smile.

“Are you in school?” You nodded “Yup I got two more years left.”

Silence fell again as you couldn’t think of anything to ask her, your eyes began to wander to the bodies that were painted on the canvases. People with different shapes and sizes, different skin tones, some with faces some with just the body. Suddenly you started to feel a knot in your thigh, you were getting a cramp. You immediately sat up wincing in pain “Ahh ouch, shit my thigh” Shuri looked up concerned.

“Let me get you some water” She put her paint brush down jogging over to her mini fridge.

“Here this should help” You slowly sipped the water and you held your thigh.

“I feel like this is my fault, I’m the one that put you in that position. I feel like I should help. May I massage your thigh?” You nodded without fully acknowledging the full question, before you knew it Shuri was kneeling by the couch with her veiny hands underneath your right thigh slowly massaging you. You didn’t know what to feel at the moment, your cramp was easing up but something else began to hurt- well more like throb. You couldn’t believe you were fully naked letting an attractive stranger rub a cramp out of your thigh. It was starting to feel like the beginning of a porno.

Her soft brown eyes found their way to yours watching you. It felt as if she could tell you were enjoying this. “Does that feel good?” She gave you a sultry glance as she continued to feel on your thigh. You thickly swallowed nodding.

“Yes it’s starting to feel better” Your voice came out weaker than you intended due to the fact you were trying to hide your whimpers. Maybe it was because you were severely touch-deprived or it was the way she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you but whatever it was it had you immensely turned on.

Feeling yourself become more wet you shifted your thigh moving it away from her “It- its gone now, I’m good” She looked at you for a second then nodded.

“Alright let me know if I can help you with anything else” She returned to her painting stand and you went back to holding your position. You could still feel her soft hands rubbing on you

“So you seeing someone?” Your eyebrows raised at the sudden question.

“No not at the moment.”

“Why doesn’t a beautiful girl like you do not have a boyfriend?”

“Girlfriend,” you corrected. Shuri’s eyebrows raised in interest, that’s all she needed to hear, “but besides that I don’t know why, girls just don’t talk to me.” She noticed your frown and furrowed her eyebrows.

“I don’t buy that” she chuckled.

“Well I don’t know what to tell you sweetie I just don’t seem to attract the right one.“

“Well you’ve attracted me,” she said with a smug look. She must’ve noticed your surprised expression that you failed to hide “Too forward?” You shook your head no.

“No not at all” She nodded as if she noted that for later.

“Hey pretty girl I know I make you feel things but can you stay still I gotta finish” Feeling even more flustered your clench your thighs out of instinct.

“Something wrong?” Shuri asked taking notice of all your recent fidgeting.

“No no I just um…nothing I’m fine” she cocked an eyebrow eyeing you from head to toe, normally a look like that wouldn’t bother you but given the fact you’re naked it made it worse.

“Do you need help with something?” You don’t know what came over you but you felt bold.

“Yes,” not excepting that answer she abruptly stopped painting and peeked around her canvas. A sly smile appeared on her lips, she dropped her paintbrush in the cup filled with mucky water and began walking towards you.

She towered over your sitting position staring down at you with lustful-filled eyes. She gently grabbed your chin lifting your head to her.

“Tell me what you need help with pretty girl” Without a word you slowly spread your legs apart while still looking up at her with pleading eyes. “I- I want you to please me.”

She smiled in satisfaction. She slowly got down on her knees keeping eye contact with you. She left soft kisses on your thighs before leaving one on your pussy, you let out a strained moan arching your back.

“Damn, you’re wet as fuck baby” She licked between your folds before starting to suck on your clit.

“F-fuck” you whispered.

“Mmm baby you taste so damn good” She flicked and licked on your clit fast with her tongue moving in and out of your hole.

“Sh-Shuri fuck slow down or I’m gonna cum early” She didn’t listen keeping her pace. Shuri smirked humming in satisfaction with your fucked out state. She bobbed her head up and down licking and sucking up all your juices, your eyes rolled behind your head feeling your release nearing. Her free hand snuck it’s way up your body up to you mouth, she stuffed two fingers in your mouth and you begin sucking without question.

“Fuuuuuuckk! Nngghh shit!” Your feet were pointed as your thighs clenched around her head, you had your hand in her curls gripping on them. As she focused sucking on your swollen clit you soon came on her tongue.

“Oh, my fuck! That shit feels good” Riding out your high she gently rubbed her thumb on your clit.

“You did so well, do you feel better now?” Unable to answer out of breath you just nodded.

Shuri came up from between your legs with your juices still on her lips, you cupped her face pulling her towards you leaving a sloppy kiss on her lips.

“Mmm now that relaxed me“ You grinned biting your bottom lip.

“I’m glad I could satisfy you.”

“What about you-“

“Shh pretty girl, next time you can repay me-“ you disregarded her words and push her against the couch. Horny and eager to please her you smash you rip her shirt off and smashed your lips together.

“Fuck baby” she whispered against your swollen lips. Letting your hands wander you reach her baggy pants unbuttoning them and pulling them off. You quickly got her boy shorts off just as fast pulling her towards you.

“Damn baby if I knew you were like this we could’ve done this earlier” you rolled your eyes giggling.

“Hush” you open her legs to see her glistening under you, you smirk sticking two fingers down there to feel her. You wipe up her juices and stick your fingers in your mouth sucking on them.

“Damn you taste good” flustered she shyly looks away with a smile.

“Come er’ baby” you pulled one of her legs around your waist and teasingly rubbed your pussy on hers. Her head instantly fell back as her eyes rolled.

“Shit baby don’t teas me” not hesitating you began rubbing your soaked pussies together. The feeling was beyond blissful, it felt amazing as you humped against her.

“Fuck” you whimper feeling your things tremble, wanting her to cum first before you came again you reached between you two starting to play with her clit. She gasped reaching for your hand but you moved her holding it above her head. The sounds that came from you two were down right sinful, moans along with the wet squelches from your pussies filled the room. This was better than those videos from Twitter in your opinion.

“Y/n I-I’m close fuck keep going!” Her whimpers got whinier, you smirked watching her beautiful face contort in pleasure.

“I- fuck! I’m cumming ngghhh” as she came you didn’t stop, you helped her through her high just as she did with you. When you thought she had enough you leaned down leaving a kiss against her lips before letting her hand go above her head.

“Fuck” you two said in unison trying to catch your breath.

After your little rendezvous, Shuri cleaned up and went back to painting you, it took a few hours but the time passed quickly with your nonstop flirting and such.

“Do you normally eat clients out while painting them?” You joked.

“Haha very funny do you normal scissor with strangers?” she said sarcastically, “I do not but for you? Well, I just couldn’t help myself.” You winked giggling. She laughed shaking her head as she turned to canvas around, a gasp left your lips.

“My god Shuri this is beautiful! It’s so realistic,” you excitedly beamed “I love the way you got my hair just right” Shuri blushed with a smile never fading over the way you complimented her art skills.

“I’m glad you like it…maybe you could uh” you handed her your phone, “go ahead and put your number in my phone pretty girl.” Shuri smiled taking your phone.

“Don’t forget to call me.” She winked watching you walk out.

“Don’t worry I will!” All you could think was wow, you went to get relaxation and left with just that. Not the way you might’ve thought you would get it but you weren’t complaining.

Taglist 💌 : @abenomeiiii, @lustfulbarbie, @locoforshuri, @6-noir , @saintwrld , @zayswriting , @vampzxi , @ihearttish , @cafehyunji , @ccharrrr , @sapphicvqmpires , @yamsthoughts

#shuri udaku #Shuri smut #shuri x fem!reader #Shuri x reader #shuri x black!fem reader #lesbian #shuri x you #shuri x y/n #shuri imagine #shuri x black!reader #mdni #18+#shuri fluff #shuri of wakanda

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astonmartingf · 1 month

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LOVE, AGAIN ; LH44

— after another failed first date, lewis calls yn for a debrief reminiscing their past relationships

amgf in case you didn't notice, i'm moving my works... that's it

masterlist

Waving goodbye to the man, you stand in front of your apartment complex watching his car leave from the corner of your eyes. Pressing your lips on a thin line, you fish out your phone pressing ‘4’, but before it could input your command the screen flashes of a familiar contact photo.

Chucking to yourself at the coincidence you swipe your phone answering the call as you make your way in the elevator. “Good evening. I was just about to call you. Is this where you say you’re staying the night at her place?”

Your voice filled with excitement for your friend, in the hopes that his date went better than yours. On the other end of the phone you could hear the sound of his engine purring, perking you up as he could be on his way to a successful date.

His laughter rings to your ears, “I am staying over but not at her place-”

An audible gasp left your lips, cutting him off- “Oh my gosh you cheeky bastard! Are you actually going to have a one night stand Sir-”

“I’m staying over yours.” Your enthusiasm slows down as you ponder over his words, wincing while you enter your apartment.

Removing your heels you set your bag down the counter, opening the fridge your eyes land on the bottle of wine you wanted to share with him- “Debrief?”

A hum was heard from the other side of the phone, “I’ll be there in 10. See you darling.” His voice was curt as he ended the call before you could sympathize with him.

“And then she just kept talking about herself, which I personally don’t mind as it takes off a lot of the burden from me constantly talking, it was a nice change…” Lewis swirled the wine in his glass, adorning matching pajamas with you, face covered in a clay mask, the perfect trifecta after a long day.

“But- clearly there’s something else that you’re omitting for the story. What happened after Lewis?” You scoot closer to him, desperately closing in the distance, curiously pressing the details on his eventful night.

Looking away, Lewis sighs before taking a sip of his drink, “She just said something that rubbed me off the wrong way.”

Sitting up straight you squint your eyes, inspecting his facial expressions, observing his body language and looking for little quips that could help you pinpoint what exactly his date said. “You don’t say… she said something about Abu Dhabi right?”

Gawking, Lewis scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You of all people… I can’t believe you sweetheart, you’re supposed to console me after my sad date. And no, for the record I don’t think she cared too much about me being a driver, which was a plus but there were other factors that outweighed why the date ended sourly.”

You stop laughing halfway as your face softens at his statement, “I’m sorry… But you have to admit that was funny. It just came out of nowhere, I shouldn’t be teasing you when you called me to hang out after a failed date…”

Lewis perks up as you mention failed dates, “Speaking of dates, what about you? Now that I’m thinking about it, you left earlier than me, what happened?”

A sigh left from your lips, grasping the bits of memory about your date just hours ago. “Honestly, it wasn’t that memorable. It was like an interview, he kept asking me questions and not in a way to form a conversation, he’s just nosy.”

Lewis grimaced before shaking his head in disappointment, “Yikes… sucks to be you I guess.” shrugging, Lewis downs the remainder of his drink before setting the glass on the table.

“Who would’ve thought, we’re both successful in our careers, getting paid, we have ample time, yet here we are… Is this the mid-life crisis people were talking about in their 30s?” Your eyes met Lewis’ mulling over his questions.

“I disagree. I think it’s alright… I mean where else would I be if not here with you? I’m fine with that, I think you just miss being out and about with people apart from me… Am I boring you Lewis?”

Shaking his head in disagreement, Lewis lets out a breathy laugh, “I’m not even sure what I miss, this is fine… It’s a lot better, I’m stable, I’m doing the things I love to do and spending time with the people I love. Maybe I just miss the feeling of what could’ve been, the choices I made that put me here, every now and then I think if things had gone differently.”

A small smile forms your lips, “You’re missing her aren’t you?”

Raising his brows, the corners of Lewis’ mouth curl up to a small smile. “I think about her, I do. But do I miss her? As a lover, no. As friends, maybe. It’s just, she was there in my life for a long time, and now she’s gone. A lot of people have come and gone, and at the end of the day we always come back to each other.”

You nod, tracing the rim of your glass, “I remember you calling me after your break-up with Nicole- funnily enough I don’t think I told you this but I was on a date that time.”

Lewis let out a gasp before scooching closer to you, “What? When was this? How did I not know about this?”

Holding back your laughter you place your glass on the table beside his. “It just happened, I was on this date with a guy… I’m thankful you called because he was insisting we go have drinks at some bar, I wasn’t interested and he kept saying something. You just called then and there when I needed you the most… and I guess the same goes for you.”

Silent, Lewis trails back on his memories of what happened that night, nodding his head slowly as he recollects what had happened. “I’m glad I called you, I guess we both needed each other that night. And I’m sorry for your shitty date in the past.”

“It was fine, it gave me something else to focus on… and when I went over to yours we ended up drinking either way so it’s just a full circle. I ended up drinking with a different person.”

Lying down on the sofa, Lewis settles his head on top of the pillow on your lap, “It’s been so long… You think I still have it? The charm?”

Choking on your drink, you laugh at Lewis’ statement, “Are you actually worried about that? Lewis, you’re in your thirties… What was that film again? Thirty, flirty, and thriving? Yeah, you don’t have to worry Lew- look at you, I don’t think you should worry.”

Lewis hums in your assurance, “You think so?”

“I know so. You’ll feel it Lewis, you’ll be in love again.”

#f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton imagine

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agent-cakeshroom · 3 months

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Random thought(when is it not random??) to expand on later

Cash Cow JD AU

Dunno if an idea like this was done or not but hear me out. While hiking the Neverglades, maybe about 5 years after the band broke up(he's already gone back and thinks his bros are dead), JD final starts letting himself sing again. It starts as humming lullabies he used to sing for his brothers, turns into quietly singing the songs he wrote for Brozone, and ends up him just singing whatever he's doing. He strikes me as the type, when alone at least, to sing the randomest shit to fill the quiet. Well, during one of his better spontaneous songs, a suspicious individual overhears. Think Mount Rageon kind of design, but adult and much more corporately power hungry. He carefully sits out in the open while JD is singing, letting the Troll see him when he turns. It startles JD, but the guy acts so genuinely impressed that he puffs up proudly and brags a bit. The Evil Man(lmao) asks about why he quit singing for audiences, and John Dory doesn't quite get into it, but it's been so long since he really talked to someone. He's hesitant, but eventually opens up about his brothers and everything that happened. And that they're probably dead. Evil Man acts all sympathetic, but sees the sun is going down and mentions he has to return home. A fancy little city not too far(for his big ass legs at least). He invites John to come explore, and dude is intrigued and bored. So he hitches a ride on Evil Man's shoulder.

Things go south not too long after. Come to find out, Evil Man had a few other trolls "under his wing". Aka held hostage to act as idols under his name. Maybe varying genres? JD would be the Pop Troll to complete the little group, and is designated as lead man. John is like "uh no way, bye" but Evil Man has magic technology lol. Maybe bracelets that paralyze the wearer if they move too far from a certain area? Something along those lines. So JD is trapped.

With this, Floyd and Bruce hear about JD around the time just before the first movie. Maybe while that's going down, Floyd goes to see one of JD's shows and tries to talk to him. JD panics because Evil Man would 100% either exploit Floyd's talent or use him against JD. So big bro tries to make him leave by saying horrible things? Like "I'm more successful now than we ever were. Why would I leave? I've found my Perfect Harmony." He specifically drops that in to try and clue Floyd in that something is wrong. Floyd, being the empath he is, gets the hint and sneaks in a mention that he'd go find their other brothers then. By the time Floyd meets up with Bruce, the first movie has happened. Second movie happens, let's say, 3 months after? Not too long. As that's happening, Bruce and Floyd try to hunt down Clay. They finally find him when they all suddenly go gray. The strings were broken. John Dory's lil group feels it too, mid show, and it royally pisses off Evil Man. He cuts the music, and JD glances backstage to see the look on his face. He's about ready to legit murder the Trolls, but just in time JD feels a weird warmth in his chest. He goes off script, starts singing acapella and the rest of the group join in. Their color comes back, there's sparkles and magic in the air, and the crowd eats it up. They finish out the show, and Evil Man chews em out. John Dory explains he has no idea what happened, and they manage to get off without too much injury.

Bruce, Floyd, Clay, and Viva(after some convincing) leave to try and figure out what just happened. They hear about the Rockapocalypse over a radio(maybe they have a different mode of transportation? Rhonda comes in later). They hunt down Pop Village in no time, before the Bergen wedding, and find Branch and Poppy. Reunions!!!

As far as I've gotten, gotta get back to work. Will try to add more laterrrr

#dreamworks trolls #trolls john dory #john dory au #brozone #will i ever write a full blown fic?#prolly not #thats a lot

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bigmammallama5 · 1 month

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Finally, I have all my photography processed and uploaded from the December soda firing! I've made notes of all the clays, slips, and glazes used-all with a very high success rate despite the fuel issues we encountered while firing.

#arting #pottery #wood fired pottery #wood soda pottery

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jbbartram-illu · 3 months

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So I still don't have any fired clay to show for it (because I switched out a bunch of elements & a thermocouple & so had to fire the kiln empty for them to settle in & oxidize), BUT I ran a successful cone 6 firing (to 2232ºF)!!! In the kiln that lives in my garage!!?! THRILLS.

Tomorrow is my first bisque firing with actual things (little glaze testing bowls/owls)...please send only the finest vibes for this momentous occasion & join me in praying to the Kiln Gods that it all goes well.

Also, did I mention before that I'm naming this beast Calcifer? It feels appropriate seeing as kilns are basically a type of fire demon, & this one comes across as a bit surly & stubborn, but also good at heart?? (I hope?!)

#artblog #pottery #ceramics #kiln #kiln log #calcifer the kiln

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writingquestionsanswered · 6 months

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Writing with Chronic Illness

strigiformthunderstorm asked: Could you advise on forming a writing routine with a chronic illness? I have several conditions that cause a lot of pain and fatigue, and working part-time takes up nearly all of my energy. I used to write daily but stopped while I was in "survival mode", and now getting in my head about the quality prevents me from writing. I've had success with creating multiple routines to accommodate my fluctuating symptoms, so instead of writing out a schedule, I'm kind of choreographing a dance. For example, right now I'm coming out of a flare up so I'm trying to think of adaptations like writing in bed, taking naps between writing sessions, and being less hard on myself about smoking for my pain while writing + just doing brain dumps if that's what I need to get into the flow of things. I'm also neurodivergent. I'm trying to get to the point I'm actually writing the book (instead of world building/planning) and am making consistent progress.

[Ask edited for length]

A few things that might help:

1 - Don't worry about writing daily or hitting specific word counts. Doing things to "move the needle" are just as important, even if that is doing brain dumps, researching, or looking for inspiration photos.

2 - Try to avoid making writing feel like a stressful activity that your brain will automatically want to avoid. The things you're doing are already on the right track, so continue to give yourself grace, give yourself positive reinforcement for anything that moves the needle, and doing what you can to make writing relaxing and rewarding.

3 - Many writers find that writing sprints are a productive way for them to get words on the page. So, for example, try setting a timer for 10 or 20 minutes (or whatever increment works for you) and write as much as you can during that time. Don't worry about quality (we'll get to that in a minute), just get the words down. Do this a few times a day, and it starts to add up quickly. You may also find that you gather momentum and are able to write more per sprint, sprint for longer periods, and/or include more sprints into your day.

4 - Focusing overly much on quality is probably a bigger obstacle for you right now than anything else. This is by far and away the biggest pitfall writers fall into. Remember: writing is a process that requires editing and revision. No one writes a perfect first draft. There's a reason we call them "rough drafts" and "zero drafts." There's a reason we self-edit and revise. There's a reason we use beta readers, critique partners, and editors. It isn't supposed to be perfect at the beginning. Imagine being a sculptor, taking out a lump of clay, squeezing it to shape it a few times, and then being livid because it isn't a beautiful sculpture. That's what you're doing when you allow your brain to be frustrated about the quality of your writing when you're writing a first draft. You're getting mad because your lump of clay didn't instantly become a beautiful sculpture. If you never let your lump of clay be a lump of clay, and something that looks more like a misshapen whatever rather than the thing you're trying to make, then you'll never get it to the point of actually becoming the beautiful sculpture. You have to let the words on the page be ugly before you can shape them into something beautiful when it's time to edit and revise. Have a look at the following posts for more:

Concentrate on Quantity at First, Not Quality Overcoming Embarrassment Over Own Writing Delaying Writing Out of Fear Worried About Writing Style

5 - As far as routine goes, you're actually already doing what I would have suggested, which is to utilize a variety of different routines that are catered to meet your needs in the moment. Doing the things you're already doing, plus what is mentioned above, will hopefully be enough to get you over this hurdle.

Sending you lots of happy thoughts and hope for progress! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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#writing tips #writing help #wqaadvice

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harlowcomehome · 11 months

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Mind if I break your heart?

Requested by my 💀 anon.

You and Jack have been friends for years, growing up around one another as your families were close. You finally admit that you’re in love with him, is it too late?

“Stop, you’re so annoying” you giggled as both you and Jack tried to walk into the door at the same time. He had a way of always teasing you, it had been like that for as long as you could remember.

Your mom and Jack's mother Maggie, had been best friends since high school. By default that meant that you had to tolerate both Jack and Clay. You didn’t mind it though, you didn’t have any siblings of your own, so you found some comfort in them.

Your relationship with Jack was always a lot different than your relationship with Clay. You didn’t question it, it wasn’t until the summer going into high school that you notice a difference in the way you felt about him.

From then on you swallowed your feelings, knowing that it would be a waste of time to interfere. Jack was so career-focused even at a young age, and you didn’t want to ruin things or make it awkward between your families.

When high school was over, you went to college in another state. Jack moved to Atlanta, and you talked often.

He always made sure to keep you updated with anything that was going on in his life, you weren’t surprised by any of his success, or the fact that he was creating a solid fan base. He had always been very magnetic, his energy and was something most people were jealous of.

Jack always made it a point to come home during the holidays. Family always meant a lot to him, which you admired.

Right now, it was summer break and you were taking time off from school. Usually, you tried to keep busy by doing summer classes but this year you didn’t have it in you.

Maggie told Jack you’d be home to which he was eager and made the time to see you.

You hadn’t told him that you’d be home because you didn’t want to disrupt any of his plans, so you were shocked when he was home at the same time as you.

“Who told you I’d be back?” You eyed him up and down as the two of you helped in the kitchen.

“ The better question is, why didn’t you?” He paused, staring over at you.

“Because I knew you would drop everything to see me.”

“You’re my best friend, are you not?” He shook his head.

There it was, those two little words that stabbed you internally over and over. “Best friend.”

“I mean, yeah? I just know you’re busy” You shrugged as you continued to peel potatoes.

“Never too busy for my favorite girl” he smiled as he began to peel the shell off boiled eggs.

Your heart was doing somersaults, even though you tried to ignore it.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been meaning to ask you” Maggie started to speak as she entered the room. “Did you put more thought into that benefit concert?”

“Yeah Mom, I had Neelam call and I’m going to do it” he turned to you with a big smile on his face. You hadn’t seen Jack perform in person for a long time, and the two of you had been talking about how much you both missed it.

Maggie smiled, she watched as the two of you exchanged excited looks. “Can’t wait!” She smiled at the both of you before she left the room.

“You weren’t going to tell me about this?” You asked as you stood with your hands on your hip ready to sass him now.

“Maybe I was waiting for your mom to tell you first” he rolled his eyes.

“Jackman Thomas, you can’t be serious right now? You’re really upset that I didn’t tell you I took the summer off?”

“Full government? But yes!” He stood with his arms crossed against his chest.

“Would it help if I told you I was sorry and I gave you a hug?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no” he held his arms out and you giggled as you walked toward him.

“You’re so damn dramatic” you giggled as you felt his body against yours.

“I just really miss you,” he said seriously which surprised you.

“I missed you too! Let’s get this food done before our moms get hangry” you joked.

Eventually, the food was done and everyone was sitting in the backyard talking.

“How long are you here this time?” Your mom turned to Jack.

“I don’t have much planned right now so I’m hoping to stay a month” he smiled and you immediately couldn’t stop smiling yourself.

“And the benefit concert? When is that?” You chimed in.

“Nothing is official yet but if it all works out we will have everything ready to go in two weeks or tops three ” he smiled.

Clay was sitting beside you showing you some of the upcoming projects he had been producing on.

“That’s so cool! Russ huh?” You smiled. “My little Clayboss is growing up.”

The next few weeks you and Jack and sometimes Clay were inseparable. It was nice and felt like old times. Clay eventually had to fly out to LA for work leaving you and Jack to yourselves.

“Want to go look at houses with me?” Jack text you early Saturday morning.

You called him immediately, “Houses? As in, to buy?”

He chuckled at your reaction, “Is that a yes or no y/l/n?”

“I’ll be ready in thirty minutes, is that okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll go pick you up then” he hung up.

When Jack picked you up, you slid into the passenger side of his jeep effortlessly. “I love this car.”

“Do you?” He smiled, and you noticed he was wearing Prada sunglasses.

“Damn, we are bougie today huh?” You joked.

“Check the glove box” he pointed, trying his best to contain the smile on his face.

He had got you some of your own, almost identical to his. “These are mine?”

“Yeah! I meant to give them to you for your birthday but I never got to” he shrugged.

Jack had promised you he’d come down for your birthday but a few work things had come up and it resulted in an argument between you two, it was really the only time you two had ever got into an argument that big.

He eventually showed up a week later but he hadn’t given you these. You were confused because he still gave you a gift then, maybe he just didn’t want to admit that he bought these for no specific reason.

“Yeah… that” you awkwardly giggled.

“Hey! It never happened” he winked. “Do you like them?”

“Love them. Thank you.” You put them on, checking yourself in the mirrors. “So house hunting?”

“I want to move back after I drop this next album.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Kentucky looks best on you.” It did, that wasn’t a lie but selfishly you were just excited for him to be closer.

You and Jack looked at several houses that day but nothing jumped out at you. You walked around each one, silently envisioning yourself, living there with him.

Jack was in the living room and you were looking at the master bedroom when you heard the realtor speak.

“You two are the cutest couple.” You could tell she was trying to get information, knowing that she probably knew who he was.

“Y/N? She’s my best friend” he just nonchalantly replied.

You walked back into the room he was in, shaking your head no to him. You were pleased to know he didn’t act disgusted by her comments.

“None of these houses are calling to me” he sighed, clearly frustrated.

“Let’s go eat lunch and then we’ll figure something out” you hummed.

“You’re right, I’m hungry” he nodded and the two of you thanked the realtor that had been helping you all day.

“That’s realtor thought we were dating?” You decided to test the waters as he drove the two of you to go eat.

“I guess so.” He shrugged.

Every moment together you debated finally telling him how you felt. That you had admired him and loved him since you were a teenager. That the way he laughed made you have butterflies and the way he made sure everyone around him was taken care of was admirable. You wanted to tell him right now, as you sat across from him in this pizza parlor but you decided not to, like you always did.

When the night of the benefit concert came you went with your mom and Jacks family.

Jack had been super secretive about everything, and you were just excited to see him perform.

You went backstage, greeting Urban immediately. You had only seen him a few times this summer so far.

“It’s been too long” you hummed.

“He’s excited to perform in front of you, but I never said that” he laughed. You overanalyzed these moments, wondering if you were just too hopeful.

You had decided that when Jack got off stage you’d tell him how you felt, you didn’t want to waste any more time harboring these feelings. You wanted to shout it from the rooftops, hoping he felt the same way.

The concert was amazing, Jack brought out a few special guests and he performed “Sundown” which was your favorite song by far.

When he got off stage you were excited to see him, you had planned it all in your head. You were shaky, nervous as hell but excited to get it over with. The last few weeks told you that maybe your hopefulness wasn’t as insane as you originally thought.

Then you saw her.

Jack was talking to someone you had never seen before, and before you knew it he was kissing her. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him.

Urban and Clay looked over at you, you had gone silent.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Clay realized you looked like you saw a ghost. Your eyes welled up with tears and he followed your eye line.

“Excuse me” You ran to your car, quickly getting in and bursting into tears.

“How could I be so stupid?” You said out loud, hyperventilating.

You replayed the last few weeks in your head, trying to recall how often he had been on his phone. If you missed some sort of vital information, maybe you missed the signs. Why didn’t she go look at houses with him?

You were brought out of your thoughts by a knock on your car window. It was Clay, and he knew exactly why you were crying.

“Can I sit by you?”

You unlocked the doors, allowing him to sit beside you in your car.

“How long?”

“What?” You wiped your mascara-stained tears off your face as best as you could.

“How long have you been in love with him?”

“It doesn’t matter Clay, it really doesn’t.”

“It does trust me.”

“Since high school” you mumbled. “I was going to tell him tonight because I thought things were going fine and he didn’t tell me about her.”

“He’s been seeing her for about six months? I don’t think it’s been super serious, she’s meeting my mom for the first time tonight” he responded.

“Wait, are you not surprised?”

“Me, Urban, and my parents have been making bets for the last few years wondering if you’d ever tell him” he laughed.

“He doesn’t know?”

“He’s kind of oblivious” Clay shrugged. “You know if you leave without saying bye it’s going to break his heart right?”

You nodded, “Let me fix my makeup and I’ll be back in?”

“Love you sis” Clay nodded as he left your car.

“Love you” you smiled weakly as you started to reapply your eyeliner and face makeup.

You rushed back inside and notice Jack was looking for you. “I thought you left!” He ran over to you and hugged you.

“You did amazing! Not that I ever doubted it but it’s been so long since I got to see you in person” You smiled, trying your best to hide your emotions.

Jack saw the twinkle in your eye, knowing something was wrong.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He whispered, pulling you to the side.

“I’m fine Jack, just tired” you shrugged.

“Are you sure?” He eyed you up and down.

“Baby?” You heard a voice walk over to him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Y/N, this is Rose” he cleared his throat, still worried about you.

“Hi Rose, nice to meet you” You shook her hand and smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet you! Jack told me all about you!” You could tell that she was nice and genuine.

You wished you could say the same but you hadn’t heard a single detail about her.

“I have to go now, I’m headed back to the dorms earlier than I planned so I need to start packing” you lied, mumbling the first thing that came to mind. You hugged Jack goodbye and rushed out of the venue.

“What’s her deal?” Urban whispered to Clay and he shrugged.

“Rose, stay here? I’ll be back” Jack ran after you.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Jack called out to you as you started your car. He ran over to you, pressing himself against your hood before running over to your driver's window.

“Where’s the fire?” He joked.

“Jack, please just let me go” Your sentence having a double meaning now. Your lips trembling, your hands too.

“Did I do something?”

“Jack, I can’t do this right now.”

“What’s wrong? Why’re you leaving already? You’re going back to the dorms? Since when? What’s going on?”

“Jack, I love you.”

“I love you too?” He laughed, confused.

“No, I’m in love with you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for years. I thought I’d tell you today but-“

“Years? You’ve felt this way for years? Why didn’t you say something?”

“When did I have a chance to?” You put the car in park. Stepping out and standing across from him.

Jack was pale, his cheeks bright red. He felt dizzy, nauseous, and genuinely just shocked.

“You moved to Atlanta! You chased your dreams. Our moms are best friends Jack! When would the timing have made sense?”

“Y/N. You should’ve told me sooner, it would’ve changed things!”

“Would it have? Be honest!” You yelled.

“Fuck” he pulled on his curls, walking away before suddenly turning back to you.

“I loved you first! I loved you for a long time! Why? Just why now?” He shouted, his voice cracking.

“Do you love her?” You swallowed.

“Oh, my go- what the fuck? What?” He was frustrated.

“Do you? Do you love her?”

“Yes!” He shouted.

“Then let me go” you whimpered “forever.”

“Y/N, that’s not fair” he breathed out.

You got into your car, starting it, and leaving as Jack watched you drive away.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #💀 anon #angst

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marinas-drafts · 6 months

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|| Sarge & Lil Mama

|| Finishing What They Started ||

Blurb: 1k word count

Warnings: PG13 -Mentions of gun violence, assassination attempt, mentions of the murder of Sam Cooke, discussions about the real mob connections to record labels that threatened Cooke and others, Elvis being a protective husband and daddy, slightly misogynistic commands for a woman to give up her vocation??

Note: this is very much self indulgent for my own fascination with Sam Cooke and my theories regarding why he was shot dead in a Los Angeles motel while at the top of his fame, dismantling segregation with his performances, starting up a new label where artists owned their work and becoming publicly supportive of the likes of James Brown and Cassius Clay. He’s was RCA’s second most successful artist right behind Elvis Presley, a lovely human and an incredible artist, if you haven’t listened to him I throughly encourage you to, he’s groovy 💋 You may recall that in the proposal fic of Sarge, Elaine mentions having helped produce Cooke’s recent first record and Elvis urges her to marry him, there’s always time for music ventures after babies

Sarge & lil Mama Masterlist

February 1965

“Elvis, you don’t understand!” Elaine insists as if there’s nuance to the fact she’d just got shot at in broad daylight on Memphis’ Main Street with Jesse in her backseat.

“The hell I do!” He screams back, disheveled from the beating he’d administered her bought-off driver and gloriously beautiful in the greatest rage she’d ever seen take over him. Their sunny nursery on the top floor at Graceland was illuminated by a cheerful late winter’s sun and the pastel’s of the empty baby crib and curtains was in stark contrast to the dark mood hanging over the couple.

Elaine had gotten three shots into the windshield of the car that had done the drive-by and the Shelby county police were on a manhunt and giving Graceland’s phone an update call on the quarter hour.

Elvis hadn’t waited for no police when he’d heard shots outside the studio. Runnin’ out and finding no other culprit to get his hands on save the most recently inducted member of the Memphis Mafia who’d paused in a damn intersection plenty long enough to allow the hitmen to aim, fire and leave despite Elaine’s screams and threats. The man wasn’t recognizable in his mug shot, so swollen and bloodied was he from Elvis’ ire.

“Woman,” Elvis claws at his destroyed pompadour with gnarled hands, “you tell me our friend Sam Cooke didn’t die by accident, ya tell me he got taken out with two bullets in him and bled out on some seedy motel floor -not for some damn hooker but over y’all’s lil venture. You get your car windows blown out by a twelve gauge, my fanmail’s laced with love letters from the fuckin’ Chicago mob warnin’ us, sayin’ leave off the music level venture -or else. Ya tell me ya ain’t paranoid then ya ask me to let ya just keep at it? W-w-what do ya expect me to do, Tink? Huh? W—w-What?” he is bellowing at her by now, his terror coming out in anger, and Elaine just stares at his positively battered fists.

“E, your knuckle’s bleedin-“

“-don’t change the goddamn subject!”

“I’m not it’s just- it’s drippin.” she mutters meekly as the lemon yellow carpet specks from crimson drips.

He sticks the offending fist in his mouth and sucks at the cut before continuing, his voice shaking, “Ya tell me all this then ya insist on goin’ about your damn career! I don’t get ya. I really don’t get ya.”

“It’s not just my career, Elvis!” she begs, “It’s yours! It’s the future of dozens of independent record makers hinging on this. If I just lay back after this -we ain’t gonna have a free music industry where artists get their rights, own their work! We’ll always be payin’ up to the mob -and we ain’t ever gonna be free of Colonel without it! This is why they’re so damned scared, E, so scared they’d turn to murder! I’m doing this for us, keepin’ at it for you!”

“W-w-we got enough as is, Tink.” he whispers, eyes wide and scared for her as he looks down at her, pastel blue coat grimy and bloody as his hands, a mockery of their pristine little life. “We got enough as is, an’all that risk takin’ -i-it ain’t your job, sweetheart. That’s man's work.”

“They killed that man, Elvis.” she repeated disbelieving the truth that’s been haunting them these past two months. “They’ve killed Cooke. Our friend, my collaborator. Killed him dead. And they think they’ve got us all scared, ‘cept for me. And they tried to finish it today.”

“Yeah.” he agreed, eyes watering, “And I ain’t gonna let that happen to ya ever again, I just ain’t. Not even if I gotta chain ya to my bed.”

Elaine swallowed down the warmth she felt rush through her at his rampant protectiveness. “A couple more months and we’ll be set, we can switch you over, you’ll be independent.” she sniffles, “You won’t be beholden to the colonel. You’ll have options.”

“I-I-I d-don’t need rid of him, Tink?” he disagrees while his tone stays questioning, still unable to understand her icy animosity towards the man. “He done gave us all this!”

“-and to quote your mama, we don’t need all this.’ We never have.” Elaine replies, putting her hand over his fist as he’s walked closer to her seat on the edge of the nanny bed, “But it wasn’t him, it was you that gave us all this. He goes on like he’s connin’ the nation into lovin’ ya. What a fool. There’s not a soul on God’s green earth who didn’t love ya once they knew of ya.”

“I don’t need all them lovin’ me.” Elvis whispers, his eyes glued to her lips as he sits down beside her gingerly as if fearful he’ll hurt her while he’s still keyed up, “Jus’ you. Tink I can’t do nothin’ -nothin without ya.”

“Elvis, just give me a few months more,” she begs softly as they sway towards each other, “give me your men and guns and what else, but let me finish. For Sam. And for us.”

His nose brushes hers, long and elegant and nuzzling her cheek and the bridge of her own, nuzzling tears she didn’t notice she had shed, his breath ghosts over her parted lips.

“No.”

He answers as he slots his mouths over her own gasping one, dragging his lips over and up and to the side of her own, smooching her clean, savoring the softness of them like he nearly lost her.

Which he had. He almost had.

He grips her tighter and forces her to accept his terrified love, bending her backwards in his fervor, massive hand, so recently used to maul her attacker, now cradling the back of her neck tenderly, rubbing at the soft spots on either side of her skull.

“Elvis-“ she whimpers at the denial.

“No.” he mutters and shakes her by the neck like a kitten, “Lovin’ ya gives me enough right as it is, but I got more, you know I’ve got more reason. You're my children’s mother! You ain’t meant to be out there gettin’ shot at! Working nine to five like some sunnuvabitch’s damn Secretary. I married me a woman not a-a-“

“I’m doin’ this for us.” she insists weakly.

“And I’m the one who decides for us.” he reminds, his hand still firm on her neck and those lean, piano playin’ fingers span all the way to her pulse point, she thinks she feels pressure increasing there, “And I say no. Be my wife, Tink, be their mama. S’why I married ya.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo 💋

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