#(look at her little freckles <333)< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

i hope yer happy with yourself YURI CAUSE CROSS HERE MUSTVE HAD HER SPEAR AND STABBED MY HEART AND THEN PULLED IT OUT TO KEEP IN HER TROPHY ROOM OF HEARTS SHE HAD STOLEN /LHJ

overall, tiddies rating 10/10

DAMN ten outta ten??? she wouldn't know what to do with all this flattery dude cmoon HHGFSHGF fr fr waaa thank youuuu >:'D <333333

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Fanon Canon Witch Wives💜🗝️👁️🌸🦋✨

NOW WITH CLARA FRECKLES!!!🧡🤎

The previous commission art is here. In it, Clara (My Wittewife) didn't have her freckles, but I'm thanking @bilumiart for being kind enough to add them in when I asked!💕

[bookshelf-dust]

something’s gotta give

gif by @kwistowee

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,988

warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope

synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?

a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333

————

“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.” 

You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant. 

She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag. 

You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”

“Of course! You have a good day, now.”

“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter. 

���Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him. 

“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in. 

The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is. 

“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…” 

You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”

He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”

You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall. 

You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”

When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem. 

You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”

Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—

“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie. 

He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”

In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you. 

God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson. 

You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob. 

What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help. 

But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy. 

You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside. 

Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks. 

He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor. 

The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass. 

Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines. 

You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him. 

What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger. 

A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning. 

He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance. 

But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him. 

And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now. 

Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms. 

There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow. 

“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin. 

You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer. 

“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”

He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”

“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”

You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.

The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!

Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible. 

Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”

“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”

You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”

Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”

You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.

He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”

That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door. 

“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter. 

“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”

You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time. 

————

If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work. 

You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine. 

Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace. 

You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be. 

You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door. 

“Why are you dressed like that?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”

You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself. 

Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks. 

His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera. 

“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling. 

You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”

The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like? 

Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around. 

The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle. 

In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders. 

Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears. 

At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms. 

“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s. 

The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie. 

He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!” 

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even. 

Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for. 

You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes? 

A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive. 

You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality. 

In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first. 

“You find everything you needed today?”

She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”

She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer. 

“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month. 

The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door. 

When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”

Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.

“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”

Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep. 

The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front. 

You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.” 

Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”

You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say. 

He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”

Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh. 

“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”

Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 

“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom. 

Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.

————

You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today. 

You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction. 

You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality. 

You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies. 

Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go. 

It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it. 

The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose. 

You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly. 

You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.

You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open. 

It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him. 

Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors. 

“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him. 

Eddie says your name. 

He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face. 

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”

He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”

“Let me help you—”

You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering. 

He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?” 

You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”

You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion. 

You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it. 

When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright. 

Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you. 

He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word. 

Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin. 

The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness. 

Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet. 

You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest. 

“What for?”

“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”

Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”

“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”

You blink. 

“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”

Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction. 

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”

You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm. 

“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”

You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”

Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”

“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him. 

He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing. 

“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”

When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps. 

“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”

He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”

Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”

You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring. 

“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”

“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”

Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished. 

“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”

“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”

You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him. 

“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”

He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?” 

You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in. 

“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”

Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it. 

And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers. 

You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on. 

When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him. 

Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say. 

“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[hyunebunx]

💛 w/ felix please!!

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333

Sunsets were your absolute favorite.

It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.

Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.

Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”

Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”

You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”

“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.

The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.

“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.

Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”

Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.

You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.

Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.

“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”

His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.

You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.

The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.

“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.

You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”

Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.

Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.

There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.

When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.

The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.

And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view. 

[encasedinobsidian]

ain't shit sweeter, ch 4: Lake Meadows

Father in law!Javier Peña x OFC │ Series masterlist

Series summary: In the late 1990’s, Javier Peña transfers to the DEA field office in Chicago, taking the long-awaited opportunity to spend more time with his son while he adjusts to life post-Colombia. But in the midst of it all, he falls in love with the woman who resents his very presence in her life; his daughter-in-law, Mabel.

A/N: These chapters take forever BUT I got over the hump, and I really like this series a lot. Thanks to everyone who has been so patient, who has sent me Javi edits and thirsted for more daddy in law <333

Chapter length: 8.2k

Read here on AO3!

The color of Mabel’s eyes shifts in the golden sun of the afternoon, her nose a little bit pink from the chill and her eyes glossy from the cold that has only just begun to set into the midwest. A velvety shade of chestnut — they don’t get much lighter when the sun casts its rays between the trees, but the dark ring around her irises becomes darker and her pupil expands when she looks into his eyes. They look, admittedly, a lot like his own, but where he has dark hair, hers is light, and where his nose curves, hers has a little slope dusted with freckles. And her lips are always pillowy, always shiny and rosy. She’s a very pretty girl, a beautiful girl, and he has always known this, always understood the infatuation that James has shown for her since the beginning. “I like it,” Javier says, voice low, almost a murmur, but all he can think of is what it might smell like on her skin. How it would smell mingled with her perfume, with whatever it is makes her hair smell smooth and floral when she stands as close to him as she does now, with her head tilted back to look up at him, her hand held high with her sleeves covering everything but her fingertips. 

[elsweetheart]

Hi!! I feel like u write Ellie and Abby the best and I love ur writing 😭 Can u do Ellie’s reaction to reader dressed in lingerie for her?

tht is so sweet 🥹 i feel like there are writers way better on here but thank u so much for enjoying my stuff <333 i will do some lil hcs for ya

pretty little lady.

🎀 kinda nsfw. reader raiding an abandoned victoria’s secret (the dream) and showing ellie what she found ;)

• so you’d wandered off on a supply run and hit the jackpot, an old victoria’s secret store — fully stocked, because who was raiding underwear stores in an apocalypse? ellie was off grabbing necessities, so you shoved a few lingerie sets into your backpack sheepishly and wandered out, finding her again. “stop wandering off, you little worm.” she poked your butt when you arrived back by her side, none the wiser.

• it was raining outside later that night, the two of you had cleaned up and now she was lounging around in your shared room, wearing her hoodie and sweatpant shorts. you slipped away, settling on a lacy pink set. you checked yourself out, smiling giddily at the way it cupped your ass and pushed your tits up. it wasn’t often in the world you lived in that you could feel truly pretty, let alone glamorous. you fished further into your backpack, coming across the cute white stockings you’d taken with pink bows at the tops of them and pulled them up your legs. your stomach swirled, giddy and nervous. it bottomed out between your legs, fizzling into warm excitement at the thought of ellie taking it off you.

• you get back into the bedroom to find ellie laying about, reading a book she’d found earlier on your supply run. “els, can i show you something?” you stood in the low light, your hoodie and sweatpants pulled over your lingerie. “uh-huh?” she tossed her book aside, sitting up slightly in concern. you exhaled with a nervous smile, reaching for your hoodie zipper and beginning to pull it down. “well i already like where this is going.” she raised an eyebrow with a grin, sitting up more on the bed making you snort.

• “shush, dork.” you flushed, revealing your new bra. you pulled your pants down, kicking them to the side before standing before her in all your lacy pink glory. “well, what’dya think?” you clasped your hands together shyly, looking down at yourself to avoid looking at her. she was quiet, so you peeked up to find her taking in all the small details, a smirk plastered on her face. she scooched to the edge of the bed, holding a hand out. “i think… you should come closer.” she smiled, her voice more quiet and intimate now.

• you scurried closer with a demure giggle and stood between her legs, where her hands hovered above you for a moment unsure where to touch first. ellie was a tactile girlfriend, and she had to feel you to know that she wasn’t having some kind of crazy wet dream. she settled on the backs of your thighs, stroking the smooth stockings before finding her way to the bows at the front, fiddling with them. “this all for me?” her question seemed genuine, in awe of you.!

• “who else?” you shrugged, just as genuine and this answer caused her to look up, eyes all soft and in love. you broke eye contact, looking down at yourself with a flushed smile causing her smirk to widen across her freckled cheeks. her long fingers pinched the bow in the centre of your panties and you held your breath, warm simmering lava dripping down into your heat. “this is very cute, suits you.” her voice was even quieter now and it brought a warmth to your face. you felt special, knowing no one else would be able to hear this conversation— her sweet words reserved just for you.

• “i’m gonna need you to spin for me, little lady.” she grinned, guiding your hips to encourage you to turn in a full circle. you obeyed, and her eyes lingered on your ass, only retreating upwards once you’d turned fully back around. “god damn.” she comment lowly to herself, making you bite your lip.

• “wanted to look pretty for you.” you admit, placing your hands on her shoulders. she stared up at you before turning her head and placing a kiss to your hand where it rested. she then warmed her hands along the backs of your thighs and pulled you onto her lap. “you always look pretty for me.” she began, running her hands over the lace of your panties stretched over your ass. her hands ran up to your waist, and then slowly round to the front, one of her fingers hooking into the underwear that covered your pussy, tugging at it ever so lightly. “these are pretty easy to pull to the side huh?” she leant in, lazily dragging her lips across yours.

• “mhm.” you agreed, urging her to go on. she slowly peeled the lace to the side, exposing your damp cunt split open by your position on her lap. “could always keep ‘em on. they’re too pretty to take off.” she spoke against your mouth, fingers swiping through your wetness forcing a shiver through your body. “s’what you wanted right? you wanted to tease me, hm? if you wanted to get laid, you could’a just said so babe… but i’m definitely not complaining.” she pulled back once more with her infamous smirk to get another look at your lace covered tits before you launched at her, desperate for her mouth to be on yours once more.

♡

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

First of all congrats once again on the milesone bby!!! for the sleepover can I as a micro drabble for jack and pirate AU ?? honestly at first I was going to ask for frankie but jack just felt like a better fit fbfgb love u <333

Sil my love! I had the time of my life sailing the seas with Pirate!Jack. Inevitably, this Captain Jack is partly inspired by the OG Captain Jack Sparrow and POTC. I loved POTC fanfic back in the day, so thank you so much for sending this prompt!

Jack Daniels x pirate AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 889 words | warnings: non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, childhood sweethearts, mention of arranged marriage, historical romance

The last time you saw him was seven years ago, when you hurled words dipped in hurt and  teenage venom at him as he held you, his beat-up leather bag at his feet by the water.

‘I need to go and earn my fortune, or your father will never let you marry me. Can’t you understand that?’ he pleaded with you.

‘We can run away!’ you insisted, your cheeks streaked with ugly tears.

He shook his head, kissing you on your forehead. ‘I want you to have a life you deserve, and I can’t give it to you if I don’t do this.’ 

Taking off the only thing he has of value - his mother’s gold ring set on a chain - he slipped it over your head and kissed you one last time.

‘I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, darlin’.’

You stand on that very same dock now. You’ve grown up. You’re taller, sadder, and you wear your melancholy like a shroud. You’re set to sail across the seas to England, a country you’ve never set foot on; and to marry your betrothed, a man you’ve never met.

You’re numb, resigned to your fate. Jack is dead. Or he’s found someone else, married and happy in a distant, exotic land. It doesn’t make a difference either way.

His mother’s ring, the only thing you have left of him, hangs between your breasts, digging into your skin under your corset, the same place it’s been all these years.

Your chambermaid asks gently, ‘Are you ready, my lady?’

You nod.

And you walk the plank.

The sound of cannon fire jolts you violently out of your sleep, and you bolt up from your uncomfortable little cot. It sounds like hell unleashed up on deck above, the sound of boots and violence right on top of your head.

Your chambermaid bursts into your room with one of your coats in her hands.

‘What’s happening?’ you ask frantically.

‘Pirates!’ she screams.

She throws the coat over your shoulders, and you hastily pull on a pair of boots. Once you’re decent, a lieutenant appears to escort you both to safety.

It’s bedlam above. The bitter tinge of gunpowder stings your eyes and nose, the smell of blood turns your stomach, and then the screams and the clang of swords - the lieutenant presses a hand to the back of your head so you’re looking at your feet as you sprint across deck, or you surely would have fainted.

Your entourage makes it to the back of the ship, where one of the rowing boats is ready to be lowered into the water - when you hear a gun being cocked at the back of your head.

‘Not so fast, darlin’.’

Darlin’.

You’d know that voice anywhere.

Your chambermaid shrieks in fright when the lieutenant falls onto the floor from a blunt crack of the butt of a pistol against his head.

Slowly, you turn around.

His eyes are the same. The same brown, but now, there are lines around them and creases at the corners. He’s obviously seen a lot of sun, freckles and marks pepper his face, and curls peek from underneath the wide-brimmed hat he wears. Behind him, you see the looming figure of a ship flying the unmistakable black flag of a skull with two swords underneath it.

Jack grins at you. ‘Hello, darlin’.’

You walk straight up to him and slap him across the face, with everything you got. From the corner of your eye, you see the other bedraggled pirates gasp at your bold action as his head whips to one side at the force.

But he only grins wider and pulls you into him by your wrists. He smells of the sea, musky, with the distinct whiff of ocean salt.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ you spit at him, your traitorous eyes brimming with tears.

He clucks teasingly. ‘What a tongue you’ve got on you now, darlin’.’

You shove at him with your whole body, but he barely budges. ‘Fuck you, Jack. I waited for you, and you never came back for me.’

He cocks his head to one side. ‘I did come back for you, darlin’, I was at our hometown but three days ago - only to be told that you were on your merry way to marry some landed gentry across the sea. And that simply won’t do - I’m a pirate darlin’, and I don’t share what’s mine.’

You scoff. ‘I’m not yours, Jack. You lost me when you left me seven years ago.’

‘It’s Captain Jack to you, thank you very much,’ he retorts playfully, unfazed by your ire. You gasp when he unceremoniously rips open the lapels of your coat, and one rough fingertip trails down your bare neck, curling around the delicate gold chain that you never take off.

His eyes soften at the sight of his mother’s ring. ‘You lie so well, you’ll make an excellent pirate yourself, darlin’.’

Grabbing him by the scruff of his collar, you kiss him hard, his big hands gripping your waist, crushing you into his embrace. Brushing his nose against yours, he pulls back. 

‘I should’ve asked you all those years ago,’ he says, regret colouring his words. ‘Will you marry me?’

You palm his cheek, grinning through tears. ‘Yes, my captain, a thousand times yes.’

[deblklesb]

imagine abby slutting the reader out on her strap and pulling her hair

anon I'm so sorry for taking to long aaaa hope you enjoy this <333 (name calling, pussy slapping, dirty talk) (MDNI)

I can just imagine her freckled skin blushed from the effort, sweaty and with some scratches you left while she fucked you with her fingers.

I guess she would love to fuck you from behind, you on fours or laying on your belly. Always touching, grabbing, biting, while whispering filthy words. Chest filled with deep feelings watching you contorting and pleading, tilting your ass up to welcome her inside in the most sinful way possible. She grunts and slaps one side of your ass, trying her best to not lose control too much and end up marking you more than necessary that day.

"I could just stand here and you would ride my cock so well because you're so needy, right babe?", you can't see but she's smiling devilishly. The question is rhetoric, the answer is too obvious.

While you moan and whine and try to move your hips along, she just keeps smirking and feeling her swollen clit pulsating under the strap.

Grabbing the sheets, you roll back your eyes as soon as you feel her hand pulling your hair. A long moan escapes, ecstasy making you lost completely the sense of reality as your nipples friction against the sheets and your clit begs for attention.

"Please, Abs...", calling her so desperately, the silicone against your walls making you gasp. "Please, please"

"Looking so good, taking my cock like a good slut", you clench around the strap with those words, the overwhelming sensations almost making you cry because she's trying to take the most filthy part out of you today. And she's succeeding. "Say what you want, babe, c'mon"

"My- my clit...", you gasp, a strand of spit falling to the pillow due to the time you've spent open-mouthed. You were literally drooling for her.

"Aw, you want more attention? Little bitch", Abby chuckles and her free hand lowers untill she's touching the neglected bud. "I'm not giving you all of this at the same time, you hungry whore", she's being so harsh today, fuck it. You love it.

"Abs...", the whine come out while the tears start to gather on your eyes. "Please, I'm being- so, so good"

"You don't get to decide that"

The emptiness that reaches you when she takes the strap out makes you plead like a brat, hips moving, searching for her. "Shush", she slaps your ass again.

The blonde spits on her hand, the other still on your hair. With your abused cunt exposed and contracting, she then starts to rub it furiously, having you bouncing along. It's messy and wet, her fingers pressing your clit in repeated, dynamic movements as you moan and smile like a whore. Her whore.

"Fucking-" her strong palm slaps your pussy once, making you squeal. "-slut", then again. Tilting your ass even more to open up, she almost can't believe how filthy you are. Her girl is so nasty, such a needy thing. "Loving to have you pussy slapped, uh?"

"Yes", she slaps again, making you clench around nothing. "Yes!"

She lets a moan escape when noticing you just got more wet, the glistening on your core making her go absolutely crazy.

"You're getting wet over this, you dumb bitch?", you can't answer that, too far gone, but the fucked up, lazy smirk on you says it all.

Being the last straw, it makes Abby resume her previous activity: she goes back inside, her strap filling you so deliciously, and she's pounding you like an animal. Her strong body impacts yours so good it brings out screams and cries, she's so big and warm around you, muscles covering yours as she whispers more unholy words against your ear and keeps pulling your hair, hips always moving untill you can't hold back and starts to come.

At your high, she doesn't stop. She just keeps going, fucking you through the orgasm as you whine with overstimulation and tears flood your face.

[shoshiwrites]

forgot to add these in the other ask - glance + roots + bling from the character design asks, also for jo! have a lovely day shoshi 🖤

Thank you so much JJ, I hope you do too <333 I appreciate everyone being patient with me on these!

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

Jo's got dark hair with curls and quite a bit of volume, which she does try and pull back for her work week or around the apartment, and dark brows, and a big sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. More than that though, it's a careful and quite serious expression she wears when she's not smiling — observing, thoughtful. 

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

Jo's look is (I hope!) very rooted in her time — '30s and '40s tailoring and silhouettes. It's inspired by the simpler looks of the period, menswear and workwear and military garb (both actual and not). Good trousers, blouses, belts, jackets. She also loves more delicate pieces in her non-work life, and for her undergarments. Her palate is very much inspired by different shades of coffee, and green, and other earth tones.

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

Her two staples are little gold hoop earrings, bought with the check from her first feature from the paper she started at, and a wristwatch. Sometimes she'll wear a chain bracelet with it. William's college ring, for a while. The heirloom engagement ring he gave her is too big and flashy to wear overseas. Teehee. She doesn't usually wear a necklace unless it's one of her mother's, a medallion or cross tucked beneath a sweater or nestled in the v of her button-up blouse.

[Character asks: Jo Brandt edition]

[colesluvr]

could you PLEASE write a Kai and nya x reader oneshot where Y/N is a rich mommy, takes nya and Kai to places they couldn't afford as kids and go shopping? :(

Here For Them | Platonic!KId Kai & Nya x Female Reader

*blows dust off this fic* sry the ending is rushed, this was sitting in my drafts for days D: BUT this was so cute and fun to write <33 this children have my heart and soul. ALSO KAI'S FRECKLES AAAWH!!! <333 anyway, hope you enjoy!

When Nya and Kai were born you were best friends with Maya and Ray. They treated you like family and were so excited to have you meet Kai and Nya.

However, when Krux and Acornix appeared and took the Master of Water and Fire, you were their only family they could rely on.

When they were younger you refused to tell them why your parents left for so long, so all you said was they were on a mission and may not be back for a couple of days.

You wanted to go after them, but their children needed you. You did everything in your power to be the best mother figure you could to them.

They ended up growing up with you, always visiting Four Weapons everyday because Kai would throw tantrums when he wasn't there.

As you watched Kai run into the shop with his little legs, you felt something tug on your pants. Looking down you saw Kai's younger sister, Nya look up at you.

You smiled as you lifts her up and hold her in your arms. Suddenly she points to her pants and you looked down to see a hole near her knee and her dress was stained with grass and dirt.

You called Kai over and as he did you noticed his clothes were dirty and stained as well.

You thought for a moment, getting an idea instantly as you put Nya down.

"How would you guys like to go shopping for new clothes!"

The little girl clapped her hands, while her brother blew a raspberry, crossing his arms.

"Ew. Shopping's for girls." Kai groaned, refering to you and Nya. "I'm a boy, and boy's don't go shopping!"

You chuckled slightly, squatting down to the boy's level.

"Boys are also clean! And you, sir, are a messy little boy." You smiled as you poked his side, causing him to squeak and jump, pushing your finger away.

"Fine. But- only because I don't want to stink!" Kai walked past you as you picked up Nya and followed Kai who thought he could take the lead.

"Sure thing, buddy."

_

You and the Smith kids reached the mall smack in the middle of Ninjago City. God, who said it would be this busy. You told yourself as you held Kai's hand so he wouldn't run off anywhere, depsite his puling of his arm.

"Okay, where do you two want to go?" You asked the kids, who stayed silent for a moment before you noticed Nya point to a store, "Toy's R Us?" You asked and the gilr nodded, sucking her fingers as she contiued to look at the store.

"I want to go in there!" Kai giggled evily as he pointed to a Hot Topic, "No, you're too young for it." You said quickly as you pulled him into Toy's R Us for Nya.

As you entered you placed Nya in the cart while Kai trailed behind, wanting to go to Hot Topic, not knowing what he'll find in there. Over time he found a couple of toys he seemed to enjoy and liked the trip to this store.

You were able to get Nya a couple of new toys while Kai wanted to buy the whole damn store.

"Y/N! Y/N! Look! Look!" Kai laughed as he pointed at toy car. It was the color red with a orange flame design on the side of it. The wheels were also painted gold.

"I bet it could go really really fast!" Kai spoke as he made car noises and raced around the asile. You smiled softly, picking the toy up and placed it in the cart with Nya who was playing the doll box she had in her hand.

_

"Okay," You sighed as you were finally able to step out of Toy's R Us, looking at the recpit and chuckled. "You both made me spend over 85$ already?" You joked as Kai shrugged, jumping up and down in the cart.

"Okay, how about we actually get what we came here for?" You asked and Nya giggled, nodding her head as Kai agreed with his sister.

Minutes tured into hours and you were able to but the siblings new sets of clothes for them to put when they got home.

"Do you both like what you go?" You asked, walking out of the mall holding Nya in your arms while you held Kai hand. "Totally!" Kai grinned as he placed on his new sunglasses you bought him.

"I'm glad," You smiled, heading back for home.

_

As you three got home, Kai quickly ran to use the bathroom while you took your shoes off, locked the door, and placed Nya on the couch while you grabbed the bags and placed them on the kitchen tables.

"Y-Y/N!"

You turned around to see Nya wave a dress in the air. "You lil'sneak!" You smiled, walking over to her playfully with your hands on your hips, "When did you grab that?"

"Wear!" The little girl demanded.

You took out your phone and checked the time. You sucked your teeth in.

"It's already 9: 30, hun. And you still have to take your bath." You picked Nya up, hearing Kai exit out of the bathroom. "However, tomorrow you can wear all the new clothes you bought!" You made a deal with the girl, who smiled and nods.

"Even me?" Kai's voiced was heard from the kitchen, causing you to laugh. "Even you, Kai. We'll have a mini fashion show!"

"Oh! We should record it and show mama and papa!" Kai smiled eagerly, running to his room to change into his PJ's, no knowing he also needs to take a bath, but you said nothing.

You went quiet when Kai mentioned Ray and Maya, in their case, their parents. How are you going to tell them?

Nya grabbed your cheek, pinching it, knocking you out of your thoughts, instantly smiling and tossing Nya into the air as you walked into the bathroom.

[chronicowboy]

temptation tuesday

tagged by @try-set-me-on-fire (i have such a big fat creative crush on you btw) <333

so i am trying to focus on my original fiction (my queer (mainly wlw) pirate novel, my play called GENDERENVY, my sitcom about my evil hellhound of a dog) for my last summer before i graduate but obviously fic is an unmoving parasite on my brain so you can have a little extract of the fic i most want to write but absolutely cannot continue for some reason:

Somebody sits down beside him. A woman of around his age who is beautiful—no other way to put it—and only vaguely familiar like an itch in the back of his skull. She's short, probably wouldn't even reach his shoulders if they were to stand, pale skin and a freckled face, piercing green eyes and red hair so dark it almost looks purple until the sunlight catches it. She smiles at him when she catches him looking, something searching on her face like she's trying to place him just as much as he's trying to place her.

"Oh, you're Buck, right?" she asks with a dazzling moment of realisation. "Christopher's dad?"

Ah.

"Oh, um, no, not exactly," he mumbles. "I mean, yes, I'm Buck, and I'm here for Christopher." He wrinkles his nose at himself, squinting slightly in the glare of the afternoon sun. "Not, like, here for him here, you know? I'm not, like, kidnapping him. And I'm not-not his dad?" He clears his throat and glances back at the entrance, checking his watch as his leg starts to bounce. "I mean, I'm not his dad. I'm his dad's best friend. And Christopher's best friend too." She tilts her head at him, eyes narrowing with a scrutiny that only makes the words keep coming. "But, uh, not in, like, a no responsibility way. I'm also kind of his guardian? Or, well, not yet. That only ever happens if Eddie dies. Which, um." He swallows loudly, fear bitter as bile and thick as mucus in the back of his throat. "Fingers crossed that that won't happen." There's an awkward laugh as Buck rubs at the back of his neck. "I'm..." He sighs, shoulders drooping. "I'm Christopher's Buck."

When he turns back to her, he's expecting her own awkward smile or amused laugh; that's normally how these things unfold. Although Buck has never quite beefed it that spectacularly before. Instead, when he returns his attention to her, there's a dazed sort of understanding on her face. That's when he sees a glimpse of her with one of Christopher's friends at the last bake sale.

"You're Charlotte's mom, right?" he asks, immediately cursing himself when her cheeks turn red in much the same way he's sure his did at her own assumptions.

(Ass = you and me, Buck thinks.)

"I'm, um, Dina." She introduces herself with a nervous nod, folding her arms over her chest. "Charlotte's mom's best friend," she clarifies with a meaningful look. "And Charlotte's best friend. And, also, a kind of co-parent, I guess?" She bites her lip and looks over at the school doors just like he had. "Legal guardian in the event of Morgan's death too." She nods once again, short and sharp and final, turning to him with something scared and hopeful on her face. "Are you in love with Eddie?"

Before Buck can even splutter in reply, the school bell rings and the doors fly open on a crowd of over-excited children ready to go home and watch TV or play video games until their heads hurt. Buck should probably be looking for Chris, but he can't tear his wide eyes away from Dina's anxious anticipation as she waits for an answer.

"W-what?" he breathes out. For all of these misunderstandings he's been through, even outside of the school, nobody has ever called him out on it before. "I'm not... Why would you... He's not... We're not—"

"Oh, thank God." She sighs happily, a sad grin stretching across her face. "I'm in love with mine too."

tagging my usual lovely legends @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @diazass @danielsousa @alyxmastershipper if u have anything to share <3

[rennybu]

Hiii Andy! I've adore your art for years and your characters. Their designs are so lovely!! And expressive!! I was wondering if you had any tips for a cohesive character design? Or even advice on adding little asymmetrical details or features? And help is greatly appreciated! Thanks! Wishing you all the best!

HELLOO!!! AAAH Thank you so much for such a thoughtful question, this makes me so happy to hear! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get back to you, it turns out I have way too many things to say about this topic AKLSDHFKLSDG

(pls take this readmore<3)

For the starting point in a design, I try to stick to whatever rules apply for the setting the character is in, and their role in that setting.

Basic colour theory is always at the back of my mind, as well. I tend to use analogous and complementary colours when I design my characters and their closets. Analogous colours keep a palette contained and feeling similar to itself without being monotone. And then using colours that are complementary to that elsewhere in the design adds contrast while still maintaining that feeling of cohesion :D

The intended use of the character also heavily affects what can make a design cohesive or not - it's very dependent on art style and medium. (A design for use in animation would be extremely different from semi-realistic TTRPG concept art. The rest of what I've written skews more towards the second option!)

I consider the colours, shapes and materials that make sense for what I want to convey about the world, and how the character would want to be presented in it. The Dogwood characters are my current exercise; Mel's clothes fit him perfectly since he works a labor intensive job on the farm, and his identity is wrapped up in it so he never strays far from heavy cotton, straight cut. Ryan and Park both wear ill-fitting clothes in completely different ways (Ryan, butchly. Park, autistic and transly) - and they each have work uniforms. Ryan's work uniform suits her gnc appearance (welding coveralls/safety gear), while Park's uniform completely transforms him into "Just Some Guy" and that changes how others read him, too (cashier). And they all shop at Local Thrift Store / Farmer's Surplus / The Walmart 1hr Outside of Town. Their styles give them each a distinct silhouette, and their levels of social comfort as well as public expression contribute to body language, colour choices, and shapes that make them stand apart from each other despite living in the same small bubble. COHESION!

Asymmetrical details and features are my FAAAAV THEY ARE SO FUN, I find inspiration for these in people-watching, nature documentaries, architecture, my reflection, my friends.. <333 This part is also fun to tie in to the character's setting! Springboard questions like. Are they prone to injuries? Magical injuries? Do they have like, modern dental procedures available? Do they give a shit about crooked or crowded teeth? Are they missing a tooth, or did they chip one? Do they smile a lot and have crow's feet/other wrinkles? Do they get a lot of sun, and do they have/use sunscreen? (Even finer wrinkles.) Did they have acne as a teen? Do they still? Are they in a combat-heavy setting, with the scars to show it? Even more uniform features like freckles aren't symmetrical.

Clothing is really good to use to play with asymmetry - maybe the character rolls their cuffs but one is coming undone a little. Jewelry of all types is also great for asymmetry since it can go anywhere on the body!! Facial and other physical deformities or injuries are also incredible to see, and should be researched to find out if they impact other parts of a person's overall health and mobility outright. The different skin texture of a birthmark, for example! I noticed in certain photographs, the subject's red birthmark changed the texture of the skin, so I started drawing Orson with one drooping eyelid on the side affected by his birthmark. The more you look, the more you find!

Before I get too carried away. I try to use asymmetrical details and features as a way to boost that "world setting" cohesion, and to bring attention to parts of the character I am personally endeared by or want other people to notice. Mahon's snaggletooth is an eternal fav, which made me draw him smiling more, which made me more prone to drawing lines around his eyes. And since the anchor is in his left hand, and he tries to hide it subconsciously, I put thumb-holes in his left sleeves, which he plucks through as a nervous fidget, and as a result, his clothes pull a little across his entire body :D ITS VERY FUN to find the right jumping-off point that lets specific details click into place. For Mahon especially, since so many of those details are derived from the setting and his role in it!

Asymmetry and symmetry are just tools at ur disposal. Asymmetry tends to be more comfortable and natural. Symmetry gives a sense of stability and can be pushed for a sense of power, a sense of being uncanny, rigid, etc. Asymmetry can also be pushed into uncaniness depending on what it's applied to!! (But as a matter of personal taste, I find asymmetrical details to feel more natural and inviting than perfectly symmetrical ones. Which. Again. Depending on the character's purpose, could equally contribute to a cohesive design!!!)

OMG ok my final thought. Asymmetry can also be used as a balancing tool which yet again lends to a sense of cohesion. Adding a detail on the left while leaving it out on the right, repeated throughout with different details where applicable. Loam's colour spots, archery gear, scars and jewelry are all areas I've played with this idea.

[msmk11]

Girl Crush

James Potter x Regulus Black

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: Angst/ Hurt no comfort

Summary: Regulus journals once again about a certain someone- someone he can’t seem to get his mind off no matter what he does. (Song fic!)

A/n: Hello, hello! I hope you enjoy this angsty fic that’s been sitting in my WIP for literal months. I did not originally intend for this to be a Jegulus fic, but when I was listening to this song (the Harry Styles cover) the other day, I suddenly became inspired. It’s sooooo post-Jegulus coded it hurts. This is also my first Jegulus fic so I hope it’s good! Lots of love <333

February 07, 1978

I've got a girl crush.

I hate to admit it but…I got a heart rush and it’s not slowing down.

It’s been 9 months since we broke up, and 3 since you got together with her. So you think I’d be over it all by now. But every time I see her, I feel my heart quicken. Not out of love, no. But of jealousy. My heart is green and my stomach aches from how it longs every time I see her- Lily Evans.

I wish I could say that I hate her, because rage is much more digestible. But I can’t. I can’t hate her, and I can’t hate you. There’s no one to blame but myself for everything.

I understand why you left.

I mean, I get it. There’s me…and then, well, there’s her. The Death Eater vs. a Flower. The choice is painfully obvious. And while you may be an idiot, you’re far from stupid. I know she’s the right choice, and I think you know it too. And that’s why

I got it real bad and want everything she has- that smile and that midnight laugh, she's givin' you now.

I can remember it clear as day, how Lily used to hate you. I remember when she’d deduct points for your uniform being messy, or scold you after another one of your many pranks. Anytime she looked your way, she’d roll her eyes a little and grimace. Anytime you were paired together for projects she’d groan and glare at the teacher. I remember it all too clearly. That’s why I also remember when everything started to change. When you came back this year, for your seventh year, you were different. More…grown up I suppose. Maybe it was the war…maybe it was our breakup…or maybe it was your parents getting sick…but you had changed. There was a little less pep in your step, less of your loud laughter in the hallways, and more solemnity in your eyes and tension in your posture. You became Head Boy, to everyone’s surprise, but to Lily’s the most. Maybe it was your sudden forced proximity, or your new maturity, or even the fact that you had become more handsome than the year before (not that I thought that was possible), that made her opinion change of you. Slowly, I watched how her scolding turned to teasing, her stares turned fond, and how she began to laugh at your jokes. Maybe it’s because I was once the recipient of your affection that I noticed your growing attraction to the redhead…how you could often be caught just staring at Lily for long periods of time, not saying anything (even though you love to talk), how you started carrying her books as you walked to class together, and how you waved proudly at her when she started coming to your quidditch games.

When you two finally got together, everyone was shocked. I mean, Lily had always hated your guts, and now she was dating you?

But not me. No, I only knew it was a matter of time.

Watching you two together is more painful than I thought. Every time I see you with her, talking to her, holding her hand, kissing her…I am painfully overcome with a sense of deja vu.

But while the memories are there, your physical presence is gone.

Admittedly, I wanna taste her lips.

Her strawberry, freckled lips, so irresistible, that when she breaks away from your lips, I watch as you chase after hers, hungry for more.

With as much time as you spend chasing them, I know they taste like you.

The mintyness, due to all the tic tacs you eat, always worried you have bad breath.

How they’re always slightly chapped, because you chew on your bottom lip when you’re focused.

The vanilla chapstick you use because you like the way it tastes.

When I catch you kissing at a Ravenclaw party one time, I can’t help but notice how totally enraptured by Lily Evans you are.

The loud, upbeat music blasts through the cacophony of voices. Everyone is sweaty as they dance to the music, and the sickly, sweet buzz of booze vibrates through the student body. Horny teens grind on one another and laugh. But not you. No, you’re clung to her waist, seeming to move in slow motion. Your head is buried in her neck, your brain clouded by the warm vanilla scent that clings to her being.

Oh how I’d kill for you to do that to me. I want to drown myself in a bottle of her perfume, so that maybe you will.

I want her long red hair…

Hair that, when your hands are in it, make it seem as if you’re playing with fire. I notice how when you twist her hair into a braid under an oak tree on the grounds, or tug her pigtails in a teasing way she sighs or laughs, reveling in your touch as you braid and unbraid, over and over, mesmerized.

I want her magic touch.

A touch that is so addicting to you, I assume you two are glued together, the way you’re always touching her. A hand around her waist as you eat in the Great Hall. Your fingers intertwined and hands swinging as you stroll down the hallway. Her hand on your thigh as she takes notes in class. The playful fighting in the common room. When you lay in her lap as she combs through your hair, your eyes closed in content.

Yeah, 'cause maybe then, you'd want me just as much. I've got a girl crush.

Everyday as I look in the mirror I pick at more parts of myself. I remember how you used to love me so much. My pale skin and dark curls. My constant glower. How my hands were always cold. Seeing myself is a painful reminder that you don’t love these things anymore. That you don’t love me anymore. And it makes me wanna rip myself apart limb by limb. I wanna replace each part of myself with Lily Evans, til you love me wholly again.

I don't get no sleep. I don't get no peace. Thinkin' about her, under your bed sheets.

I don’t sleep much now. For a multitude of reasons, but one of the biggest being I’m not falling asleep in your arms anymore. The bed feels cold without you and the nightmares come much more easily now that you’re not there to fight them off. It’s oddly quiet, far too much for my liking, without your soft snores filling the air or unconscious contented sighs.

And I’m kept awake too by the thought that you probably hold her tight at night now, wrapped in her embrace.

Do your bed sheets still smell like me? Or has her flowery scent taken over? Does she have cold hands that soothe your always warm body? Or soft touches that lull you quickly to sleep?

The way that she's whisperin’…The way that she's pullin' you in. Lord knows I've tried, I can't get her off my mind.

Maybe Hogwarts is a small school, or maybe it’s the fact that I see you everywhere, figments of what was, that makes me so consumed by thoughts of you and of Lily. I’m sure I spend more of my days thinking about the redhead than not at this point. It’s become an obsession.

I’m not surprised you fell for her. She’s magnetic. I see the way she draws you in. I can’t escape her force either. But her pull on me is so strong I feel I could merge with her and become one.

I wanna taste her lips, 'cause they taste like you. I wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume. I want her long red hair. I want her magic touch. Yeah, 'cause maybe then you'd want me just as much.

Oh James Potter, how badly I want you.

Oh Lily Evans, how badly I want to be you.

I've got a girl crush. I hate to admit it but, I got a heart rush and it’s not slowin' down.

[maeverojaskinnie]

what do u think the oou characters look like?

This is such a good question agggh!!!!

Addy: During oouin I imagined her to have a grown out purple bob that barely touched her shoulders. i've thought of her as being really pale - bordering ghostly.

Bronwyn: I've always imagined Bronwyn with long wavy brown hair - and obviously her grey eyes. I also feel like she would be quite tall (around 5'6 or 5'7).

Cooper: In my mind Cooper has a blonde crew cut in oouil - then quite long floppy hair in oouin. He is also a short king and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Nate: He's always been quite hard for me to picture tbh. If I had to describe him, he has dark brown hair that is not floppy but also isn't short?? Maybe a 5 0'clock shadow???

Maeve: Chestnut brown shoulder length hair with blonde and auburn highlights (this is so specific, but Maeve is such a vivid character for me to picture, I just can't help it). She also has a smattering of freckles on her nose and quite a soft, heart shaped face.

Luis: The tallest of the group by a MILE. He has black hair that is short on the sides but long on the top. I've also imagined him with 2 moles on the right side of his face for some reason? Ooh, he also has a strong nose that is a little bit bent from being broken so many times.

Phoebe: Copper red hair that reaches the middle of her back, with a bit of a wave to it. Her whole body is covered in freckles in true redhead fashion. I also think she would have quite prominent eyebrows.

Knox: Blonde crew cut style hair - almost a buzz cut. Long, lanky limbs. a scrawny white boy, if you will.

Kris: Short fluffy, light brown hair. an oval type face with ridiculously long lashes. I also feel like he would around the same height as Luis.

Thank you so much for the ask, my lovely <333

[tangerinesperfume]

omg i was just scrolling through the foster au tag this morning and then i saw ur post!

an image came to my head of sam waking up in the morning, cuddled up with tara. tara's still sleeping. and sam lets the quiet peace of the morning wash over her as she watches tara as she sleeps. maybe it's one of the first few times that tara's cuddled with her at night, so they're still getting used to all this physical affection. sam traces the lines of her little face, admires her freckles, strokes her hair as she thinks about how much her life has changed since this sweet little girl came into her life. maybe tara wakes up and allows herself to relax in sam's embrace before they get up to face the day.

i'd love to hear any thoughts u have about little quiet moments between the sisters like this, in any scenario!! <333

This is so freaking sweet. I’ve always had a soft spot for sister relationships.

There’s actually this song called you matter to me from waitress the musical that goes:

Dear baby

I hope someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight

They don't pull away, they don't look at your face

And they don't try to kiss you

All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight without an ounce of selfishness to it

And I think it fits perfectly with Sam and Tara’s growing relationship. They’ve both been deeply hurt by the world and they have each other to mend the world and make it theirs.

Both Sam and Tara had a difficult relationship with physical touch growing up but when they started warming up to each other, they didn’t realize how deeply they both craved the safety of being held tightly.

They both put the other on a pedestal as a god sent saint and see the other as their savior. It creates some issues in their relationship down the line, but they are just so so so sure about their places in each other’s lives.

When they are quietly in bed, so close in proximity, the world is quiet, safe, and entirely for them.

[sydneyofalltrades]

Since y’all seem to love my Savannah Doe AU I figured I could write a little about it I guess?

Uhh yeah it’s all under the cut, reminder Sav and Penny are two separate people, thanks :)

ummmm mainly for @fucking-gay-frogs and @sugarcoated-dandy bc they love this au a bunch <333

Light. Dark. Pushing. Pulling. Overfilling. Emptying.

And then.

Grass.

A trip, and hands in the cold wet grass. It had just rained.

An itch, in the neck. But the neck isn’t there. But the head?

Feel. Warm cheeks. Long hair. A full neck, with just a scratch.

Search. A mirror. To see. The truth.

Voices. Bodies. Laughter.

Garbled. But loud. Cover ears. Still there.

Faces. Blurred. Hands, warm. Holding. Name. Name asked.

You don’t know. You don’t know who you are. You just remember the accident.

“She needs first aid!”

“She needs to breathe.”

“She needs- Ricky?”

A boy. Crawling to her. Holding hands.

A name. A small simple name coming to mind.

Do you remember? Yes.

“Savannah. I am Savannah.”

Pause. No speech. Everyone’s confused.

“So Jane Doe came back too? With me?”

Pigtails. Freckles. Big worried eyes. Another girl, like her.

“You’re… Penny?”

Eye widen. “How do you know that?”

Confusion. “I don’t know. I only remember-“

Quiet. The pain is too unbearable.

“Well, we’re all okay. That machine brought us back. He gave me my head back. But you had the other head, didn’t you?”

Look up. “You remember. I was- lost. A lost person. Now I have a name. And a life.”

Blinking. Realizing. She was a person. She was Savannah.

“Well, we can’t leave you here,” another voice, loud and worried, “You can stay with me, my parents aren’t ever around.”

Red hair. Warm smile. Familiar face.

“O-Ocean?”

She nods. “I’m Ocean, Savannah. I voted you to come back, remember? As Jane?”

Savannah took a moment. “After you realized choosing yourself was immoral. I remember.”

Ocean held Savannah’s hands and helped her up. She stumbled, but was able to stand.

She saw the other people. She helped up Ricky, who seemed unable to walk and talk anymore, but he was able to stand with her support.

“Savannah?”

She looked around. The girl with purple hair. Who played that silly recorder.

“Constance.”

She looked around. “And Noel. And Mischa. And Ricky. And.. Penny.”

Penny smiled. “That’s right, Sav.”

“Who’s Sav?”

“It’s you,” Ocean explained, “It’s a shorter version of Savannah.”

Savannah blinked, then slowly did something she never thought she could do. She smiled.

“I like Sav. I like you guys too. I hope I can understand why that machine brought me to life, but I think he’s dead.”

The others laughed, and Savannah was confused until Constance explained they thought she made a joke.

Turning around, they all saw the rollercoaster. The wreckage they all climbed from. Alive.

Now there was Savannah. A new member, an unknown face.

But soon she wouldn’t be so unknown. And that was guaranteed.