Whisp

Small hc's to scratch the itch ♱ The first time she met you she was flabbergasted, you cannot tell me this girl wasn't a little sheltered. Especially towards more alternative people and things. At first she thought it was a joke or something, but after a few times of seeing you decked out in layers and lace realizes, it's actually how you dress. ♱ Outright told you you looked like a doll, coming from her you didn't know wether that was an insult or a compliment. She didn't know too wel herself either, but then she gets to know you, grows fond of it and quickly feeling a big fat crush develop ♱ Asks you out with a humble bouquet of your favoriates with lace trim around them. You said yes, ofcourse.

♱ Bumps her forehead into you bonnet each time she goes in for a peck, she'll always grumble but it's so obvious she adores the way it frames your face ♱ Once she understands it's not JUST fashion this girl does her homework on it's history, because what matters to you matters to her. Expect the research for any of your interests though ♱ Despite her love, adoration and support is still appaled by the prices (me too girl), like what do you mean you just dropped 400 on a random tuesday on a dress. But how can she be mad, when she sees her pretty girl all dolled up in her full get-up :((( ♱ Printed tights drive her crazy, i said what i said. Tights, thigh highs, knee high socks, anything like it makes her cheeks go red. ♱ Helps you undress at the end of the day, imagine you've been out and as pretty as it is your dress is starting to weight you down, your headdress is tight and itchy on your head and the pettycoat keeps scratching your tighs. When you get home she helps you get settled on the couch and peels of those pesky shoes, gently takes everything off and mutters how cute you are whilst undoing the ribbons that seem to never end. When everything is finally off she'll make sure to run her hands trough your hair to ease the slight burn and itchyness that had been bothering you all night ♱ overdressed femme gf x underdressed minimalistic masc/butch trope stays undefeated with you two ♱ Why do you need so many bows, also i bought and built this shelf for you to display them all. Will complain but at the same time makes sure everything stays safe and pretty, and delicately handwashes your favoriate jsk with utmost care ♱ Would probably never wear anything to match, but will get into tiny things. A little teacup ring she'll wear cause it reminds her of you, or a fluffy keychain decorated with lace and pearls. Probably wears your socks to the gym, she'd be in all black/grey/navy but then she's moving around and she's flashing everybody with frilly socks. Manny looks at her like she grew a second head, but then quickly pieces it together. You two were dating, and he to her suprise didn't tease her about it... too much ♱ She'd have fun with it though, laying back and snickering, trying on pieces of your collection, having you straddling her as you do her makeup ♱ I personally hate going out so biased, but i imagine she'd enjoy tea parties with you. Nothing super fancy, maybe just spending some time with you baking sweet treats, putting them on a platter and sharing tea from a china set she bought for your birthday. Kinda like an at home date, being all adorable, talking about the new book she's been reading and being happy and lesbian. ♱ As an outsider she does get a little worried about you, seeing how mean some lolita communities can be, so makes sure to let you know how precious you are to her. That you are allowed to wear it, and not feel judged by members of your own community. ♱ On that note, outraged if someone even mutters something under their breath. Out and about people can also be mean or just plain annoying, so she is protective at that. Like no don't touch my girlfriend's dress or hair, no it's not a costume, also fuck you for the classic ''bo peep'' insult, no we won't take a picture for your kid. This girl is your bodyguard and lets others know it. Spicier? ♱ Loves the texture of lace on her lips, wether it's from a choker, or tights, or even socks. She'd kiss along it before finally reaching your lips. ♱ Same with little hand cuffs, the way the just sit on your wrists, she loves watching your hands trail down her stomach, the frills tickling along her skin ♱ Like i said, tights. Drive her wild everytime, and she has to resist the urge to rip them open cause well... abilletage tights are too pricy for that ˙◠˙ But she just also loves the texture, that soft fabric, sliding her hands over it and gripping your thighs, cupping you over the fabric and watching you squirm

I'm too lazy to write it, but i should.... decisions, decisions ૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒)ᦱ

The struggles of wanting merch for a niche character, i am begging you to take my money pleaseeee :( Like do i contact them... again? They're only active on their personal but i don't wanna bring art business on a personal acc. But at the same time i can't reach them on their art acc help

Like what are we even doing atp, women can't be masc, butch and now even tomboy anymore ANGELS ARE LOSING THEIR WINGS PEOPLE

Autism going crazy for this playlist and this is probably only half mhmmmmm oh abby how i wish u were real, she is my muse

whatever bro

1.1k words

Underneath the silver moon;Abby x Seraphite!reader

CW;Abbey- mitski

Sypnosis; (wip) abby finds a scar on her patrol, idfk‘’insert poetry or text here’

…Those were the last words her blue orbs were able to skim across before her peace was interrupted. And of course there he stood, Manny. With his big signature grin and raised brows. She was needed as per usual, and he didn’t bother to hide it knowing beating around the bush would egg on her annoyance further.

‘’We’re being called up, ambush west of the TV station, Isaac wants us out there right away.’’

Abby stiffened, everything about her face becoming resolute. But before she can imagine the absolute worst outcome, a whole dead troop, he reads her every micro expression and quickly mutters out his next words.

‘’no casualties.’’

That alone got her jaw a little looser, already aching from how it tensed.

‘’M’kay… i gotta-’’

“already grabbed it’’

He states proudly, tossing her beloved backpack to where she caught it, ready to set out but not before double checking everything was inside. Damn worry wart.

‘’Abs’’

‘’Don’t.’’

She whispered out, not wanting to hear the whole ‘relax’ lecture again. Something he made sure to lay on thick these last few months, much as her fellow soldiers. Always an awkward pat on the back, telling her to ‘rest up’, ‘take it easy’ or even ‘simmer down’. That just pissed her off. Specifically being under Isaac’s radar didn’t allow that. Rest was a privilege, a luxury, not a soldier’s right. Wether 1 hour of sleep or 10 you were sent out in the cold muddy terrain, expected to do your job. That’s the one thing he asked, do what he said and he provided. Who was she to argue with that?

The old engine roared to life as her troop settled into the truck’s boot, all squeezed together like sardines in a tin. Rifles and shotgun clinking together under each bump of the road. Seattle’s terrain grew worse by the day, the rapid streams only expanding, destroying more in their wake, structures and parts of the forest burned down from the fights and rot simply spreading, not only in the form of infected but crumbling buildings.

Rubble was starting to pile up but to waste troops, send them out to clean it in times like these were ridiculous. As per such more and more routes shut down, new shortcuts being made, temporary unsafe solutions. Small tunnels trough the collapsing buildings, right trough high risk areas with infected activity and even a mass of boats being fixed up to cut trough the rapid waters more often.

But a boat couldn’t keep you safe, not when a new gush of water rushes down sweeping soldiers off and into the waters. How many deaths would it be before anyone protests, if ever?

Death, it was all she could think about. She heard it over the crackle of radios, right out of Isaac’s mouth, everyone’s mouths and right on paper. She could never exactly place how she felt about death, most people were pretty black-and-white about it. They feared it, or simply didn’t. Moreover she didn’t care much about her death but that of others, what if something happened to say Manny.

People would talk about it for 2 days and move on, but his father would be alone, she’d live with more guilt after promising to keep him safe, his bed would remain messy and unmade, maybe someone new would be assigned as her roommate. His pictures would be kept in a box, something precious, something dear. His fishing pole would remain untouched, grow dusty, the fingerprints would slowly disappear under the layers of caked grime.

She couldn’t help but really look at him for a few moments, the small scar right by his left brow, the stupid man bun he insists on keeping, his scraggly beard she teased him for, his mannerisms with his fellow soldiers, trying to keep the mood up, cracking a corny joke here and there. She… appreciated him, but the day those words would roll off her tongue would never come.She’d never say it, but actions speak louder than words anyway.

And just like any other day, she made a promise in her own head to keep him safe.Manny on the other hand snickered and pulled her out of her somber thoughts, as he playfully tugged her braid.

‘’¿Estás bien? Did the floor do something or-?’’

Her cheeks flush just a little, she’d probably been glaring at the floor again, with her brows furrowed, that classic pout.

‘’all good, listo?’’

‘’sí, vámonos’’

He quickly responded, hopping out with the rest as everyone murmured. So far no scars, only signs of the ambush from this morning. Broken arrows and empty bullet shells scattered across the ground. As if everyone silently agreed the group divided into 4’s and searched the area. Abby was already off, peeking behind the corners and sighing. These tense moments, knowing another ambush could occur any second were the worst. And they were right near some overgrown woods, trees stretching over them. Perfect hiding spots.

Soon enough Manny joined her, glancing around for a few seconds before deciding it’s safe.

‘’So, all of that Spanish really is sticking.’’

“Hm, i’ve been doing my homework.’’

‘’qué impresionante’’

‘’Psh’’

As they squabbled they were headed right into the old warehouse, right on the border of what was still ‘’their’’ territory. Such a trivial thing to fight for, alas. Isaac’s orders were final. How could anyone deny him that when he took them in, starting this all up from the ground?

The metal racks were caked with dust and grime, yet still no spores. Old rusted tools, glass shards crackling under their soles, and her least favorite part being the pallet racks lining the walls, stretching to the top of the building. Something about it felt too closed off, she felt caged. But of course, she brushed it off, only stretching her neck to try and relieve all of the tension before heading further in.

But the quiet never lasted long, an explosion ringing in the distance.They didn’t even have to exchange a glance to rush back outside, the weather now even more depressing and sputtering down droplets of rain. Black smoke filled the air as the truck was slowly burning down, being reduced to nothing but it’s steel frame. The tires seeped into the ground like melting ice cream and the pungent smell of rubber quickly burned into their nostrils after the smoke. She didn’t even have time to pull her shirt over her nose before arrows started flying, multiple scars rushing in to try and corner the group.

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AN/; This is all i managed to squeeze out of my brain, but i thought i'd share anyway just to be sure before deciding to make the final decision to delete it. The pacing is bad, the spanish is done with crappy translators and despite loving Abby so incredibly much as a character i feel that my writing does not portray her well enough for my liking.

This is my first ''fic'' afterall but i still put immense pressure on myself to make something perfect. And i simply, can't.

Ugly self portrait and a wip i'll likely never finish. i fucking hate drawing

These are the laziest sketches ever but i'm really sick rn so please understand. I'll be working on these troughout the week, the anatomy is so off wich pains me but i'm trying to get back into drawing thus i'm veryyyy rusty Tldr; looks like poo, working on it, i feel like how these sketches look... poo