loony

butch cowboy abby who drives with one arm out the side of her open truck window and has her fingers tapping against the door

butch cowboy abby who is nearly always packing

butch cowboy abby who has a full bush, untrimmed and untouched because why would she mess with something that's already perfect?

butch cowboy abby who loves it when you ride her strap, but especially loves it when you ride her clit

speaking of, butch cowboy abby's clit is thick, just like the rest of her. her favorite thing is when you suck on it on your knees and bury your nose in her bush, genuinely drives her up the wall

butch cowboy abby who prefers to carry you rather than have you walk through the mud and mess up your nice new boots she's just gotten you for your anniversary. you used to insist that you were too heavy, and she'd just scoff and subtly flex. now, you've accepted that your husband can absolutely carry you around everywhere you need <3

butch cowboy abby who brings you flowers she's found in one of her pastures, grinning when you add your own little touch (most of the time, a ribbon from her braid) before displaying them on the big oak kitchen table

butch cowboy abby who only trusts you to cut her hair. no one else. her ends are starting to split? time for her lover to get out the scissors and work their magic

butch cowboy abby who grabs handfuls of your ass, constantly, always finding the time to feel up the fat and muscle there while listening to you talk about your day

butch cowboy abby who got 'dyke' keyed into her black truck, on the drivers door, and kept it ever since. she says it adds an 'artistic' touch

butch cowboy abby who damn near runs for town council in her little dilapidated southern town because she's tired of all the thinly veiled threats and intimidation from the old men

butch cowboy abby who ends up saying fuck it, instead hoisting up a pride flag next to her american flag, high and proudly, just to piss off the bigots

butch cowboy abby who has the best eggs in the entire state. seriously, they sell out so fuckin quick that people are lining up at 6am to get a chance at em. (bonus: she never charges over $4 for a dozen, simply because she doesn't believe in it, and she's got too many damn chickens)

butch cowboy abby who grins like a little kid when you come home from the farmers market with honey sticks, biting the top off of hers and smearing sweet sugar kisses all over your lips as thanks

butch cowboy abby who uses dip when she's had a particularly long day on the farm, whether it be some asshole who tried to overcharge her for a new calf, or an issue with taxes, etc, and you can always tell because her mouth has a sting to it when you make out with her later on

butch cowboy abby who stands with her hip jutted out, and her hands crossed over her chest, making for the most intimidating yet heartwarming sight you've ever seen. her pouty lips draw you in, so, so very deeply, and the subtle tick in her jaw has you runnin laps round the barn

butch cowboy abby who fingers you so good that you couldn't speak, even if you tried. she gets you going so well that you drool all over her, and her favorite is when you're a babbling mess leaning your weight onto her while she makes you feel good

butch cowboy abby who spoons you in the early mornings, sighing quietly into your sun warmed skin as she contemplates sleeping in a little longer instead of tending to her outdoor duties

butch cowboy abby who lets you braid little ribbons and whatnot into her hair, proudly displaying your work, paired her flannels and starched jeans as she lumbers around the farm

butch cowboy abby <3

I love it, honestly. I think I mentioned it in my HP headcanons, but I love an AK-eyed Harry with some white in his hair and a very visible scar. I love a slightly unsettling Harry. And I think the AK eyes, which look like a normal green unless you see them from a very specific angle and then they gleam like a killing curse don't actively contradict canon either (the white hair and the obvious scar are not canon though, as he can hide his scar with his hair usually, so it's likely on the smaller side. I think they're cool concepts though and make for a striking image). Also, canonically, Harry has some strange reactions to the veil and the Killing Curse and I love connecting him with death when I can in headcanon and fic.

Also, canonically, Harry isn't short. I believe he's around 5'11-ish in HBP and DH, and we know he can look intimidating when he straightens up and glares at you:

“You never really tried!” she said hotly. “I don’t get it, Harry—do you like having this special connection or relationship or what whatever—” She faltered under the look he gave her as he stood up. “Like it?” he said quietly. “Would you like it?” “I—no—I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean—”

(DH)

That's canon.

I also love the idea of his magic being powerful enough to be felt. And considering how instinctively it reacts to Harry's emotions, it's halfway canon as well. His magic sort of just does things when Harry's upset or wants something enough. I think it's loads of fun and has tons of potential for fic purposes. (God knows I overuse the AK-green to describe Harry's eyes from Theo's POV in my fic)

I know! I feel the same way about that scene. It's really no wonder Harry was as traumatized as he was in OotP (honestly, he's incredibly resilient, all things considered). The graveyard was awful. And their laughing is some of the worst of it:

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort’s lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him . . . he was not going to give him that satisfaction. . . . “I said, bow,” Voldemort said, raising his wand — and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

(GoF, Ch34)

Especially when you read Harry's thoughts about the Cruciatus and how he wants to die so it will end and they laugh:

“Crucio!” It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end . . . to black out . . . to die . . . And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort’s father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters’ laughter.

(GoF, Ch33)

But the part that stuck out to me the most last time I read it was this moment:

he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was. . . . White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he’d ever screamed in his life — And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off; he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back toward Voldemort.

(GoF, Ch34)

Not only are the DE laughing at him, but they pushed a pained, shaking, and stumbling 14-year-old kid back into the circle to be tortured again!

Harry was stumbling over himself, barely getting onto his feet, and they pushed him down again and laughed. A bunch of grown-ass men. It's disgusting and horrifying. Like, them pushing Harry back towards Voldemort when he's barely walking and shaking all over disgusts me. That is so vile.

I think a good chunk of them seem to be 100% going along with Voldemort of their own free will and not just for his favor (though, I think that is part of it). After all, they did stuff like that on their own volition earlier in the book:

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Harry recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee. “That’s sick,” Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. “That is really sick. . . .”

(GoF, Ch9)

I really hope these DE didn't get to escape Azkaban for a second time after the second war (the ones that survived it, that is).

tried my first hand at beard!harry & i’m pretty happy abt it! thank you for the commission! ✌🏽🫡