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#look at her long leggies
mabsart · 2 years
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[Spooktoberbyal]
🍂✨🎃5: Oh My Gourd! 🎃 🍂✨
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abirddogmoment · 3 months
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Looking forward to her looking like a proportionate dog, hopefully one of these days
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guiltyidealist · 24 days
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the girls 💞 (toy poodle mixes)
Abby (11y/o, owned 11 years); Lily (2y/o, owned 1 year); and Bella (2y/o, owned 2 weeks)
My dad and his wife are leaving town for 3 days and I'm sitting the dogs
Bonus TEENIE boy (neighbor's new Aussipoo)
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blujayonthewing · 11 months
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reopening the years-settled nonissue of 'what kind of dog is wildshaped juniper' to struggle between 'this is an irish breed known for its intelligence and loyalty and sweet disposition and they're widely used as therapy dogs' and 'this thing looks exactly like juniper'
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leatherbookmark · 2 years
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i think there’s this fandom idea that lxc’s seclusion is All The Time No Matter What (and i too subscribe to this notion) but then he actually attends the banquet and even is active during it and. i understand that no one including himself wants him to turn into his father. i also don’t want to be mean to lwj because i already am, a lot. but
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ohnoitstbskyen · 3 months
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What are your thoughts and the same-face-syndrome Oda has going on with Nami, Vivi, Rebecca, and Shirahoshi?
Oda is kind of a frustrating artist in this regard, as he is in many regards.
Because on the one hand he demonstrates, to a greater extent than almost any of his peers, the ability to design interesting, varied, creative, compelling and fun characters, with a huge variety in presentation and body type, and without the dehumanizing distancing that a lot of artists employ when depicting non-normative bodies.
Charlotte Lola for example, one of my favourites, is a character who is extremely caricatured, and depicted as stocky, broad, and rough around the edges, with a missing tooth and odd proportions. But the story consistently treats her interiority with respect and depicts her as complex and interesting beyond her sillier surface traits.
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... and then up AGAINST that you have the Infinite Leggy Busty Beauty Brigade, which includes Nami, Robin, Carrot, Pudding, Doll, Domino, Boa Hancock, Vivi, Kalifa, Shakuyaku, Alivda, and on and on and on and on.
And it's this frustrating binary where Oda seems to know exactly ONE way to visually present feminine beauty: thin, curvy, busty, with long legs and a round face, and he repeats it over and over and over again like his only two modes of design are either Copy Paste Pin-Up or Crazy Caricature.
The same face syndrome comes out of that, I think. Because the gamut of what A Beautiful Woman™ can look like in One Piece is so narrow and has so few traits available to it, repetition becomes inevitable.
And idk if this is just Oda's personal indulgence, maybe he just draws the kinds of women he's attracted to, and fair enough I guess, people have the right to be self-indulgent in their art, but it is consistently one of his biggest weaknesses as an artist and designer that he just can't seem to stop reproducing the same hot babe design over and over again.
I will say that Oda is not noticeably any worse in this regard than most anime and manga - copy pasted normative bodies with same-face syndrome is the norm, not the exception, especially for female characters. And that doesn't make it not a flaw in Oda's work, just a flaw that should be understood and assessed within its context, where Oda's repetitive babes are (at least in my opinion) still more distinct and interesting than how most of the industry treats its Hot Babe characters visually.
Still wish he would incorporate, like, ONE new idea for what a beautiful woman can look like, though.
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nickfowlerrr · 11 months
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Bellllaaaaa hiiii:)
I’m hooked on biker/bartender bucky(even tattoo artist bucky) with fucking Tats right now and I’d totally love if you could maybe write him and chubby/plus sized reader having a flirty relationship, maybe they’re like a fling or something. She works at his bar/tattoo shop, whichever au you pick, and they’re just fucking flirty and so naughty together lol
Smut is always welcomed!!
Thank u bby in advance<3 mwahhh🥺💋
about how it started..
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pairing: bartender!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. pining. flirting. smut. a little tiny hint of voyeurism/exhibitionism. if i’m missing something pls lmk!
words: 3.1k
notes: thank you, mickey, for sending this and sorry it took so long! i kind of wanted to incorporate more mention of his tattoos but i felt like i kept screwing it up so i kept it very vague - i’m sorry. but i hope you like this! i really love the idea and i’d love to do more with them in the future, too (including more of his tattoos too 🥴), so thank you, thank you, thank you!! 🥰
also this gif isn’t necessarily the bucky i was picturing but the visible tattoo feels right so whatever 😌
i hope you guys enjoy this! thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. as always, feedback and comments are always welcome and so appreciated! 🖤
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You know you should be checking tables right now. You know. But goddamn if you can’t take your eyes off of the brawny, blue eyed, six foot something beauty that is Bucky Barnes.
You’re leaning against the far end of the bar, eyes fixed on him with no plans of trailing anywhere else.
He’s making another Sex on the Beach for the less than subtle, leggy, bleach blonde who’s been fawning over him since she got here. When she and the other college girls showed up, seeming to have already been pregaming, you knew tonight wouldn’t be uneventful.
You could obsess over the fact that the twenty one year old, who looked like she stepped right off a runway, was currently pushing her chest out and twirling her perfectly styled hair as she continued rambling on and on to Bucky, but his disinterest was clear to you as he kept a polite smile and entertained her as he finished the drink.
That, and because you had no right or reason to obsess over who was flirting with him and when.
Right?
You pushed the thoughts away as you admired Bucky’s profile. The way some of his hair had fallen out of his bun and hung around his perfectly sculpted face. How his brilliantly blue eyes shone still through the dark strands. And god did you envy his perfectly shaped nose. Your eyes fell to his lips as he smiled at something the girl said, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care, you were so caught up in the beauty of it. He gave her the drink before he tucked the loose hair behind his ears.
You watched as the girl held out a twenty with a sultry smile and a wink before Bucky took it with a small laugh as she sauntered off back to her friends.
He put it in the cash box and then pushed up his sleeves as he took the time to count out how much the bar had made so far tonight.
You swear your mouth went dry as his tattoos were on display now. The dark ink that told story after story lining his forearm, and though you couldn’t see them right now, led all the way up his strong arm only added to the endless list of things that made him attractive. The artwork was mesmerizing. Just like him.
“You just gonna stare at me your whole shift, sweetheart?” he says to you without looking over, a smirk playing on his lips.
You take in a breath before pushing off the bar and walk over to meet him where he stands.
“Who says I was staring at you?” you question and lean over just slightly to glance at Torres who was pouring shots at the other end of the bar.
Bucky turns to follow your gaze and gives a laugh when he sees who you’re referring to.
“You and Torres, huh?” he plays along, smirk never faltering. He finishes his count and tucks the box back under the bar before he turns fully to you, blocking your view of the younger man completely, not that you cared.
Bucky walks into you, backing you up until you’re forced into the dead corner of the bar. You nearly stop breathing when he leans into you, his cologne invading your senses, his warmth surrounding you as he keeps you trapped between him and the bar, his thick arms on either side of you. Your lips part on an inaudible gasp when his lips brush against your ear.
“He know I was guts deep inside you last night? How you were screaming my name, begging me not to pull out? So fuckin’ desperate to be full‘a me,” he reminds you as his hands find your waist and he squeezes your softness before pulling you flush against him and letting his hands slide down to your ass. “How many times did you come again? I think I lost count,” he taunts as he leans over you and gropes you shamelessly.
You can see out past his shoulder as he nearly nuzzles into your neck, your eyes growing heavy with desire as your lips stay parted in heated awe.
Your eyes meet the blonde Bucky had just served as she looks on in a bit of a stupor before blinking and turning away with a hint of a blush warming her cheeks.
“Watch it, Barnes. You’re gonna lose out on tips if you’re not careful,” you warn playfully, if not a bit breathily.
When he starts kissing your neck, your knees become unsteady as a warmth starts to grow in your tummy.. and lower. Your hands latch onto the front of his shirt in an effort to stay steady.
You’ve noticed he’s been getting more brazen every day, more teasing and touching when he knows full well people can see, and the fact that he really doesn’t seem to care sparks a bit of hope that maybe this could grow into something more than what it started as.
But as Bucky nips and then gently kisses your pulse point, all thoughts fly right out the window as your main focus is solely on not melting into a puddle right then and there.
“Don’t care,” he says against your delicate skin, placing another kiss to your neck before you push him back just slightly. “What?” he asks as a half smile adorns his face when he stands up straight again, looking down at you.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish right now,” you say as you hold his smoldering gaze.
“You think I won’t fuck you right now?” he challenges, his seriousness sending a thrill up your spine.
You let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh as you push him to turn around. “I think you have some patrons waiting for your attention,” you say, ignoring the desire burning deep within at his words.
He sucks his teeth as he walks back over to the lively area of the bar, but not before eyeing you with a look that promises he isn’t done with you tonight.
You watch him back before spinning around and coming out from behind the bar to start checking tables.
You’re leaning over a newly emptied table close to the bar when you feel his heavy gaze on you.
The low cut scoop neck of your top already offered a generous view of your cleavage, but as you’re leaning over to wipe the table down, you’re sure he can see right down your shirt. You hide your smirk as you walk around the table and make a show of leaning over once more, your tight black skirt that hugs your tummy riding up your thick thighs as you do. You’d forgone underwear under your opaque black tights and wonder for a second how much he can see as you bend further over the table.
You don’t have much time to wonder as suddenly Bucky is right up behind you. You stand up against him, your ass brushing against his crotch. His hands are on your skirt as he adjusts it back down for you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, voice low and husky.
“Cleaning a table,” you answer innocently as you stay where you are, enjoying the feeling of his large hands on your wide hips and his solid chest at your back.
“Yeah? Cuz from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re purposely being a little tease.”
“Me?” you say in faux offense, turning to face him. “I’d never. Just doing my job, boss.”
He pushes you back against the table just slightly, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t been thinking about how hot it’d be if I came up behind you, ripped your tights open and fucked you stupid right here on this table?”
You swallow hard as you feel yourself growing wet at the scene that plays out in your mind. The bar is near empty as you’re both getting ready to close up but the idea of Bucky taking you right here and now, onlookers be damned, has heat creeping up your skin.
“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” you whisper wantonly, eyes swimming with lust.
A sinful growl escapes him as he presses himself closer to you. You can feel his growing bulge against you and it takes everything in you to not let out the whimper that threatens to slip past your lips.
Joaquin left twenty minutes ago after him and Bucky served last call, so it’s just you two and the lingerers who are slowly making their way out.
“What am I gonna do about it?” he repeats as his hand comes up to hold your chin. He leans down, face to face with you as he continues headily, never taking his eyes off yours, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid. Right here. On this table,” he breathes each sentence before he finally takes your lips in his. It’s gentler than you expect as your eyes flutter shut and the sound of the entrance door closing behind the last patron signals that you’re alone now.
You sigh into his mouth before you pull him closer, the kiss growing more heated with each moment that passes.
You let Bucky ruck up your skirt as your hands fumble with his belt before you start working on his button and zipper. You stop him for just a second, grabbing his hand, “You rip ‘em, you buy ‘em,” you tell him, earning a grin from him.
“Deal,” he says before easily tearing your tights and turning you around, forcing you down against the table.
“No underwear, huh?” he taunts as he rips your tights even more, his thick fingers wasting no time in playing with your wetness on full display for him.
Your legs are spread as you moan at the delightful feeling of his fingers pushing into your sex, opening you up for him as he scissors his fingers inside your tight heat before curling them the way he knows you like.
“Fuck, Bucky, please,” you whine as you clutch onto the table, pushing your hips backs and trying to fuck yourself on his hand.
“Jesus, fuck, you’re perfect,” he swears before landing a stinging slap to your ass and pulling his fingers out. He quickly tugs down his jeans and frees himself from his boxers, his erection hot, heavy, and throbbing.
“Make me so fuckin’ hard, you know that?”
You only mewl in response as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you. He doesn’t have as much patience as he normally does, though. He’s been thinking of you nonstop since you left his apartment this morning. Been wanting you close again from the second you left his bed.
He knows this was just supposed to be a fun fling, but from the first time he kissed you, he knew he was done for. He knew he’d only want more.
And he was right.
He wanted all of it with you, not just sex. He wanted to spend his days cuddling you in his bed, watching movies, talking about nothing; hell, he even had to stop himself from texting you the other day to see if you were busy when he had to go get groceries because he wanted your company.
He was hooked on you completely.
But this “fling” was your idea and he didn’t want to run you off with the idea of commitment so soon. So for now, this would have to do. And who was he to complain about the nights he got to spend flirting with you, teasing you, taking you apart only to put you back together in his arms come morning.
He’s pulled from his thoughts as the head of his cock catches along your slick entrance, a hiss emanating from him as you gasp at the feeling.
He slowly lets himself push in, deeper and deeper until his hips are flush against your ass and he’s filling you completely.
Your soft moans urge him on as he begins to fuck you, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the quiet of the empty bar. As he starts to thrust harder, the squelching noises of your fucking grow louder and louder as you moan without care, your hips hitting the edge of the table over and over with his every thrust.
His hands frame your waist as he holds you tight, rutting ever deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you whine and gasp in pure pleasure, the coil in your belly tightening with each glide of his cock along your walls and every nudge against your g-spot. Bucky slips a hand down and finds your puffy clit, circling it as he feels you getting closer, your walls squeezing him tighter and tighter.
Your toes are curling in your shoes as your feet arch and slip against the floor when the muscles in your legs and core tighten and strain as your walls clench down on his thick cock and your orgasm hits you hard.
In the same instance, Bucky growls as the swinging of the entrance door sounds. You don’t even bother to look up as you’re lost in the euphoria of your high.
“We’re closed,” Bucky barks, his hips never faltering as he continues to fuck you while your eyes screw shut in overwhelming pleasure.
You vaguely hear a fumbling apology and the door closing once more as Bucky buries himself inside of you, leaning over your bent body and rutting into you as his groans and moans tumble heavily from his lips. With one more thrust, you sigh breathily as you feel him spill inside of you.
The weight of his body on top of yours is a comfort you can’t help but revel in as he holds you still and gets all of his release out, your velvety walls milking his cock as he fills you with his hot come.
He’s breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm and gently pulls his cock out of you. You instinctively press your legs together, your thick thighs making it easy. You push yourself up off the table after a moment and turn around, fixing your skirt as you do.
“Fuck,” you breathe under your breath happily. “Maybe lock the door next time?” you suggest playfully, “Or, at least turn the ‘OPEN’ light off.”
“Next time?” Bucky says with a raised brow and a smirk as he fixes his pants. “You like getting fucked in the bar that much?”
“Well, you did say something about fucking me stupid.. And not that that was bad at all, but, I’m not feeling very stupid right now.”
He licks his lips as he takes you in, taking your hands in his and tugging you close. “Why don’t you come home with me and I’ll get you there,” he says smoothly.
“That’d make it three nights in a row,” you say, a little unsure. “You sure you wanna risk it? I might not wanna leave.”
“I might not want you to,” he says, surprising you by how soft and sincere his voice is.
You meet his eye and swear you could drown in the glimmering blues as he smiles that schoolboy smile. You let out a shaky, nervous laugh.
“You fallin’ for me, Barnes?” you tease playfully - just a hint of hope laced in your tone.
He surprises you again as he takes hold of your chin, peering deep into your eyes, before he brushes his nose against your, his lips inches away from your own as you breath each other in for a second.
And then he kisses you.
Soft, yet firm and as you lose yourself in it, a deep yearning for Bucky that you’ve kept down from day one rears her head once more.
You part for a second to breathe before you crash your lips into his again, pulling him closer to you by the front of his shirt.
Your tongues glide against one another as he slips his in expertly before kissing you deeply.
He lets his forehead fall to yours as he parts from you.
You're breathless as he wears a nervous smile you’ve never seen on him before.
“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” he repeats your earlier taunt, trying to hide his anxiousness as he waits for you to respond.
You suck your lip as you consider him, biting back the smile threatening to take over your face.
“I’d tell you that, maybe, I’ve fallen for you, too,” you admit shyly, looking up to see his cocksure smile back in full force, just the way it always is.
“Then I’d tell you to take me back to your apartment,” you say, leaning into him for another sultry kiss. “So you can fuck me stupid,” you breathe against his lips, “as many times as you want.”
You nearly squeal as you're taken off your feet in the next second, Bucky’s strong arms holding you securely as you wrap your own around him.
“That I will happily comply with,” he says, kissing you hotly as you smile into it. You pull away just slightly to speak.
“We didn’t finish closing,” you laugh.
“Don't care,” he says, kissing you again as he easily walks to the bar, holding you with surprising ease that you aren’t sure you’ll ever get used to before he sets you down. “We can do it tomorrow,” he excuses, grabbing his keys from behind the bar and flicking the lights out. You grab your jacket and bag from the shelf you kept them on and follow behind Bucky as he locks the doors, escorting you out and to his car.
Before you get there, he turns on you, both of you stopping in your spots.
“We really doing this?” he asks, wanting to make sure this is really what you want, too.
You smile and nod.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
He lets himself smile in return.
“So I can call you mine, now?” he asks, grabbing your hand, pulling you to him.
“I’d be good with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“You sure? Cuz once we make this official, I’m gonna let everyone know. I might never shut up about it.”
You can’t help but laugh at how excited and proud he sounds. “I think I’m okay with that,” you smile up at him, meeting his lips in another kiss before he leads you to the car and opens the door for you to get in.
You know you’re okay with that. It’s what you’d been hoping for from the first time you’d kissed, for this to lead to something real, something more. Now here you were.
He wanted to officially call you his, and Bucky was finally, truly yours.
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courtforshort15 · 2 years
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Green is the Color
Pairing: Matt Murdock x FemReader
Word Count: 7,200
Summary: Karen Page looks flawless next to Matt in a way that you don’t. Insecurities and jealousies were bound to pop up at some point.
Trigger warnings: None. Just some angst with a happy ending.
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You're jealous of Karen.
Beautiful, smart, sweet Karen who has never been anything but kind to you. Leggy, slender, blonde Karen who catches eyes effortlessly wherever she goes. Determined, self-sacrificing, truth-seeking Karen who seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, who seems honestly happy to see you whenever you join them out as a group.
And though you're the one who sleeps in Matt's bed more often than not, though you're the one he whispers soft, sweet things to while he holds your hand as you walk home, though you're the one he calls when he's hurt or happy or needing you with him, you can't help but be jealous of her.
They look flawless together. She's light where he is dark. She is petite in everything but height, and he is made of muscle and broad shoulders. She is sweet and open where he is charming and dangerous when you truly look at him. 
They are beautiful, standing together laughing loudly, and you are not the only one who notices.
"God, some people have all the luck, don't they?" A woman next to you at the bar says to her friend. It’s your turn to buy the drinks for the group, and you're waiting patiently as Josie helps another patron. The conversation catches your ear, and you're not exactly surprised when you notice they're talking about Matt and Karen. It's not the first time you've heard something of this sort.
"They'd have such beautiful babies," the other woman replies, and the sound of her voice and the words being said pierces into your skin. "They look so good together it almost hurts. I hate them."
The women gather their drinks with shared laughter and walk away, leaving you to yourself while you wait on Josie. Your cheeks burn in something akin to shame and sadness, the realization that you'll never look as good next to him as Karen does. And though Matt has told you time and time again how much he loves you, it's not the first shred of doubt you've felt. 
Hearing someone else echo the things that have lived inside your heart for so long drives a sharp blade into your chest, and you struggle as you work to maintain your breathing, knowing Matt will pick up on the irregularity. You're in a crowded bar and Matt is a few drinks in, so you think you're safe at your current distance away, but the second you join the group, he'll be able to tell that something is off if you don't force yourself to calm down.
With a fake grin that pulls sharply at the corners of your suddenly dry mouth, you thank Josie when she sets your drinks in front of you, and you slowly make your way back over to them where they're playing a game of pool. You set the drinks on the table next to them, and Foggy immediately dives into the beer you've brought over. 
Karen thanks you for her drink with a smile, and Matt squeezes your hand in appreciation before he plays the part of an ordinary blind man and pretends to be awful at the game. It's all in good fun for him, though you all know he could whip everyone's ass, and he gasps in fake shock whenever he sinks a ball intentionally that he pretends is unintentional for the benefit of whatever bystander may be nearby. 
Matt says something that makes Karen laugh, and she places a hand on his shoulder as he smiles. Matt is your boyfriend, the man you'd gladly spend the rest of your life with, but you suddenly feel like an intruder in your own relationship. 
With a grimace you hope no one notices, you toss your drink back, setting the glass loudly back on to the table. 
"I think I'm going to call it a night," you tell the group, already turning to grab your purse. Immediately they all protest, asking you to stay for another game, or at least another round of drinks. You try to make the smile on your face look as warm and friendly as it always is, but you know you fail on some level. But in everyone's inebriated state, they all take it as completely genuine. 
"Alright, sweetheart," Matt says easily, placing his cue stick in the rack, turning to grab his suit jacket from where it's been tossed over one of the chairs. "We can leave. Are you staying with me tonight? Or do you want me to come over to your place?"
"No, it's totally fine," you object instantly, already taking a few steps away in an effort to distance yourself. "You should stay and have fun."
He waves your protest away with a smile. "We’ve been here for a while already. We can head out.”
You let out a laugh that surprisingly doesn’t sound nearly as fake as it feels. “You guys won a big case today. You deserve to stay out and celebrate.”
“She’s right, Matt!” Foggy calls out from the other side of the table before he takes a long sip of his beer. “We deserve all the alcohol that Josie can provide us with tonight. That case was a nightmare.”
Your laugh is a little more genuine this time, eyeing the way Foggy sways when he puts his beer down. Karen isn’t faring much better, if the flush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Stay, Matt. I’ll be okay getting home.”
The easy smile has left his face, and he makes his way over to you. You stay rooted to the spot, knowing that rejecting his advancements would tip him off to the fact that something is wrong. There's also the factor that you hate denying him any sort of affection he needs to give or take from you, so you stand still and wait for him. When he’s in front of you, he reaches a hand up and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing a finger over your cheekbone with the movement.
“Are you alright?” He asks quietly, his voice meant for only your ears. “I can at least walk you home if you want.”
You turn your head to press a light kiss to the inside of his wrist, unable to deny yourself the warmth that his closeness brings you. “I’m just tired, and I think my stomach is a little off.” This close to you, he should be able to tell a lie from the truth, but the words that leave your mouth are honest enough. You’re tired of feeling inadequate, and your stomach is reeling with the thought of other people seeing what you see when you look at Matt and Karen.
The excuse you’ve given him is completely true, he just doesn’t know the reasons behind them.
“Then I should definitely–”
Smiling slightly, you shake your head. “I’ll take a cab home. I want you to stay with your friends and have a good time. You earned it."
Matt sighs and reluctantly agrees to let you leave without him, but not before pulling you in close and placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’ll call you later, alright? If you’re still up, I’ll come over when I’m done tonight.”
“That works,” you say with a small shrug. A small smile slides across his face, and he pulls you in one more time to press his mouth to yours, before he takes a step back and turns to face his friends. You send Foggy and Karen a quick wave and another false smile, before making your way to the door.
You don’t miss the way the two women from before not-so subtly eye you up and down with their eyebrows raised, no doubt finding you lacking for a beautiful man such as Matt, especially when compared to the gorgeous woman that is one Karen Page.
Your cheeks burn again, but you push past the women without a word.
When you’re all settled in bed, you curl your knees up to your chest, yanking your heavy blankets over you in an effort to keep yourself in and the rest of the world out. A few tears cloud your vision, but you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to keep them from slipping out. If Matt were to stop by, he’d smell the salt of the tears, and nothing would stop him from getting an answer out of you for why you were upset.
He’d know if you were lying, no longer distracted by his friends and the loud noise of the bar, and you’d be unable to persuade him to let it go. Feelings would tumble from your mouth unchecked, and he’d either be angry or hurt at your accusations. 
…or worse, he’d admit that he feels the way about Karen that the rest of the world has decided he should.
In order to keep that from happening, you turn your phone on do not disturb in an effort to make sure you’re not woken up by his call, hopefully keeping him away for the night if he decides not to disturb your sleep.
You ignore the way your heart twists painfully in your chest.
****************
“That looks awful, Foggy,” you tell him as you step into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page a month later, eyeing the way his face is peeling from an awful sunburn he’d gotten on a trip to Florida to visit his parents. “Do you need me to go and get some aloe for you?”
Foggy laughs, but immediately winces as the expression on his face pulls at the skin that already looks extremely painful. “I’ve got some in my drawer,” he says, motioning to the bottom part of his desk. “I’ve been told to reapply several times during the day. Thank God I don’t have any clients coming in today. I'll just be here all day working through some case items with Matt.”
“That’s good at least,” you say, walking forward and placing a sandwich on Foggy’s desk before taking a seat in one of their lobby chairs, waiting for Matt to arrive so that you can have lunch with him in his office. You’d picked up sandwiches from his favorite deli, including one for Foggy, knowing Matt won’t have time to go out and meet up with you somewhere today.
“Thanks for bringing this, by the way,” Foggy says with the biggest smile he can offer with the way the skin has tightened on his face. “Though, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to open my mouth wide enough to eat this.”
You send him a sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine. It looks super uncomfortable.”
Foggy snorts. “If I can deal with watching Matt kiss Karen in the hospital that one time, I can deal with this. Now that was uncomfortable.”
Your blood runs cold. 
“Matt…kissed Karen?” You ask, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest, the increased speed sharp and painful as it pounds relentlessly. “When was that?”
Foggy must not hear the way your voice has changed, too busy trying to take a bit of his sandwich. “During the Punisher case. I like…turned to look at them, and bam. A full smack of his lips against hers, and it looked just as uncomfortable for me as it was for them.”
“So this…was a while ago?” 
Foggy freezes, finally glancing back up at you, a confused frown on his face. “Matt didn’t tell you?”
You shift in your seat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, but you're not quite sure if you pull it off. “Tell me what?”
He shakes his head. “I mean, it’s no big deal, really. They only dated for a small period of time, and it’s barely even worth mentioning, to be honest. It was right as Elektra came back into the picture.”
Ah, Elektra.
The woman whose scars you’ve been steadily trying to heal ever since you met him.
“Do you think it would have gone anywhere if Elektra hadn’t come back?” You ask hesitantly, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand. Foggy looks thoughtful.
“I’m not sure,” he says, appearing to think about it. “They definitely liked each other. It could have been something, had either one of them been truthful with each other. To be honest, I kind of thought they would try again after everything with Fisk, but they’ve remained just friends.”
You glance down at your hands, struggling to take a deep breath. When you glance back up, Foggy is frowning heavily.
“Are you okay?”
Forcing a smile on your face, you nod, trying to get rid of the images of beautiful Karen and handsome Matt, standing next to each other and smiling, like they had that night at Josie’s. The picture of them together flashes through your head almost brutally. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just didn’t know is all,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I’m super hungry, so I think I’m a little out of it.”
Foggy looks at you, eyes narrowing in consideration, before his face brightens again. “I totally feel that. Like…my life is perpetually split into two sections; eating, or thinking about when I’m going to eat again. My stomach is forever calling out for food.”
You laugh, and while you find what he’s said amusing, it’s not enough to drown out the roaring in your ears. The new knowledge has sent you spiraling, and it’s like every thought you’ve had about the two of them is standing in front of you, taunting you. Matt and Karen had at one point been together. Maybe only for a short period of time, according to Foggy, but feelings had been there, and you can’t help but think that you were possibly the thing that was standing in the way of the universe correcting itself.
Foggy has thankfully turned back to his sandwich, and you pray for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
Your phone rings, and you pull it out of your purse, grateful for the first time in your life to see your boss’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” her voice greets you, “I know you’re taking your lunch, but is there any way you can come back early? Someone in accounting messed up the data you’ve collected, and I could really use some help getting it sorted back out. It needs to be resubmitted by the end of the day.”
Perfect. 
“Yes, I can be there in ten. I’ll see you soon.”
Your boss hangs up, and you’re shoving your phone into your purse as you rise up from your chair. “I have to go, work emergency,” you tell Foggy in explanation as he looks at you questioningly. “Will you give Matt his lunch and tell him I’m sorry I missed him?”
He nods with a small grin, gingerly wiping his mouth with a napkin as he swallows, careful to not rub too hard. His skin really does look painful. “I’ll tell him to give you a call later. He’ll be sad that he didn’t get to spend lunch with you.”
Your heart aches painfully in your chest. You’re sad, too, but right now the relief far outweighs the disappointment. You’re not sure you’d be able to handle sitting across from him right now, insecurities and negative thoughts spreading through your entire body like an uncontrollable wildfire. 
Matt has always made your heart pound relentlessly in your chest, the mere thought of him sending you into overdrive. His wide smile. His cocky smirk. His beautiful eyes he only lets a select few see. His soft skin.
But now your heart is pounding for a whole different reason, the anxiety ensnaring you so completely in such a small period of time, and you don’t want him around to witness the fallout that’s bound to happen.
You send one last smile to Foggy, and if he notices the panic and misery in it, he doesn’t say anything.
*****************
The final nail in the coffin happens at a fundraiser Nelson, Murdock & Page had been invited to. The fundraiser was raising money to help underprivileged individuals afford legal counsel when charged with petty crimes, and the firm is happy to attend and donate what they can to the cause. 
Matt had asked you to accompany him, wide smile on his face while he told you about the mission and purpose, and you readily accepted his invitation to join. He seemed so eager and excited, and you couldn't have thought of an excuse to justify not going if you tried.
You’d picked out a beautiful dress for the evening. Red and black, an echo of the black he wears out at night, and the red of his sharp lenses, two different personas he puts on for the world. You prefer Matt in sweat pants and a hoodie with large fuzzy socks pulled up mid-shin, but you love all pieces of him, and this dress reminds you of the person he chooses to be for his city.
He’s running late, which is unsurprising, given the long day he’d had in court. He warned you earlier that his work day may run over, but that he’d join the group as quickly as possible. 
You enter the fundraiser with Foggy, Karen, and Marci instead, taking in the way the lobby of the museum has transformed into a beautiful layout filled with cocktail tables that are covered with sleek black cloths and lit-up centerpieces. The lighting is low and almost romantic, a soft jazz band is playing on a stage directly ahead, and there are various decorations and balloons in hues of blues and purples.
It’s not necessarily a black-tie event, but people are dressed beautifully as they talk amongst themselves, weaving in and out of the crowd as they greet and strike up new conversations with people who have just walked in. It’s not exactly surprising when an older woman walks up to the group with a smile on her face, arms outstretched for a hug. Your group of lawyers is bound to run into people they know.
“Foggy,” she greets warmly, pulling him in, squeezing him to her. Foggy leans in immediately, beaming at the woman.
“Emily,” he says with a kiss to her cheek. “Always wonderful to see you.” He turns to the rest of the group, arm still around her shoulders. “Everyone, this is Emily Davidson. She is an old friend of the family.”
She smiles broadly at the group, before lifting her face back towards Foggy
“Where’s Matt?” Emily questions, arm still wrapped around his waist after a brief chorus of hellos are said. “I thought he was coming.”
“He’ll be here soon,” Foggy answers easily. He takes a flute of champagne that a waiter hands to him. “This is–”
“Oh, you must be his girlfriend,” she says with a large smile, interrupting Foggy and finally stepping away from him. Her eyes are absolutely lit up with warmth and excitement. “Matt said you’d be here with him.”
But Emily isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at Karen.
Your heart drops. 
Of course it’s Karen. It’s always Karen.
“Aren’t you just beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing Karen’s hands in what can only be described as pure joy. “That boy always sure knew how to pick them.”
“I’m not—”
“He says you’ve been together for over a year, right?” She continues, voice carrying over Karen’s immediate objection. Karen gives you a look that is extremely apologetic, cheeks turning red. “None of the other women he’s brought around have stuck. I’m so happy to know someone as sweet looking as you has decided to–”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Karen finally manages to interrupt, looking deeply uncomfortable as she shifts on her feet. The woman frowns, but Karen removes her hands from hers and gestures towards you with a smile that is kind, but also increasingly awkward.
Emily stares at you for a second, mouth dropping infinitesimally, but she recovers quickly, a wide smile once again lighting up her face. Though she is subtle about it you don’t miss the way her eyes briefly glance up and down, as if sizing you up. 
“Oh. It’s so nice to meet you, dear,” she says, taking a step towards you. Her gaze upon you is kind, but more reserved and closed off than it had been with Karen. She seems to be yet another person who expects Matt to have someone as beautiful as Karen on his arm, and the thought causes your throat to go dry and your heart to drop. “You look lovely, too. That dress is stunning.”
You force a smile, and you hate the way it’s appeared on your face more and more these past few weeks. It was once a smile that was meant for the occasional awkward conversation, but lately it’s almost found a permanent home on your face.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you tell her, hugging her awkwardly when she pulls you in. Your body is full of tension, and your movements feel stiff. She pulls away, taking a step back. She eyes the group once more, the four of you in a semi-circle around her, before mentioning that she has some friends she needs to catch up with. Emily walks away, unaware of the turmoil that is brewing in you.
The air is sweltering around the four of you, and your hand is holding on to your clutch in a grip that would be bruising if it was someone's hand instead.
Karen abruptly turns to you, an hesitant smile on her face, “I–”
“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” You cut her off, making a show of looking around you, trying to spot one. Your eyes land on one finally, and it’s like a lifeline that’s calling to you. “Oh, there it is. I’ll be back in a few.” Without another word, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the bathroom, shoes clacking loudly on the floor. 
You're in a stall before you know it, the bathroom shockingly but thankfully unoccupied. You lock the stall door with shaking hands, begging yourself not to cry as your face crumbles. The last thing you want is to go back out to your friends with red eyes and smeared mascara, so you bite your tongue until it bleeds.
You have to get out of here.
An idea springs up inside your head, and you yank your phone out of your purse, immediately pulling up your message chain with your younger sister. 
Text Sent 7:32pm: I need you to call me in fifteen minutes with an emergency.
You hold your breath, praying that your sister responds shortly. It’s always been a code when one of you needs an excuse to get out of something, and you’ve never relied on it the way you’re relying on it now.
Text Received 7:33pm: Is everything okay?
Sighing in relief that she’s answered so quickly, tears still pricking at your eyes, you type out a quick reply.
Text Sent 7:33pm: Not really, but I’ll explain later. Can you call me in a few?
Text Received 7:34pm: Absolutely.
You rejoin your friends with another fake smile, and make an effort to seem as put together as possible. Temporarily shoving your misery aside, you crack a few jokes, laugh at Foggy’s commentary of the people around him, and tap your champagne flute against Karen’s in a funny, random toast, ignoring the way she’s looking at you in concern. You make a show of wondering where Matt is, casually mentioning that he had said he would be arriving soon, craning your neck to glance around the room as if in search for him.
In reality, you’re hoping he’s nowhere near the event, so that you can slip out without a word.
You know you’re being borderline childish with how you’re reacting. It had been an easy mistake on Emily’s part, but it’s once again reinforcing the idea that Matt should be with someone who looks like Karen, at least by society’s standards.
A beautiful man with a beautiful woman. It doesn't matter that he's blind and can't possibly know what his partner looks like; there's still an unfortunate, unspoken rule that says beautiful people belong with other beautiful people.
You're cute, in your own way. But other people don't seem to think it's enough. And while you’d normally be the type of person to flip society the bird, you can only hear the same message so many times before it starts to sink in like a poison with no antidote.
True to her word, your sister calls at the fifteen minute mark, and you feel the way your phone is vibrating in your purse. You pull it out, sending a quick apologetic look to the trio as you take a small step to the side, and answer it.
“Hello?”
“Are you coming over to talk about whatever is going on?” Your sister says in greeting, her dry tone still managing to sound a bit concerned.
“Oh no, are you okay?” You ask in reply, placing a heavy frown on your face. The group is watching you closely, even while they make small talk amongst themselves.
“Did Matt do something?”
“I’m at an event right now,” you say, somehow managing to sound regretful, letting a wince slide across your face. Foggy looks at you, his brow furrowed, as if trying to figure out what's going on. When he wants to be, he's more perceptive than anyone ever gives him credit for. “Can I come by after?”
“Tell whoever’s there that I need stitches or something,” your sister suggests helpfully.
You sigh loudly, shifting your eyes upward in what you hope conveys a small amount of annoyance. “Okay, I’m coming.” You hang up shortly after, turning to the group with an unhappy look across your face. At least that part isn’t necessarily a lie. 
“Do you really have to leave?” Karen asks, and while she sounds sympathetic to whatever may have happened on the phone, there’s also a tiny spark of suspicion in her eyes. You ignore it.
“My sister sliced her hand open and probably needs stitches,” you say as an explanation, grimacing. “She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She’s awful with needles and is freaking out. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
Marci gives you a sad smile, and it looks a little too knowing for your taste. She’s the one who knows you the least, and while she’s a part of the friend group by way of Foggy, you don’t know her nearly enough to be overly concerned about whether or not she believes the act.
Foggy and Karen, on the other hand, seem to be a little more cautious with the explanation you’ve given, and you know that if you stay with them much longer, they’ll see right through the agony that’s tearing its way through you, no matter how hard you’re trying to keep it at bay.
“Tell Matt that I’m sorry to have to leave so early,” you say to Foggy as you lean in to give him a hug. Karen hugs you, too, and you try not to flinch from the touch. 
Beautiful, lovely Karen. It’s not her fault, you know. But it doesn’t stop the sting.
“You could call him yourself,” Foggy suggests as you move to leave the group. You don’t answer, adrenaline and panic finally sliding through the cracks, and you can’t be there one second more. 
You’re crying on your sister’s couch in a set of pajamas she’s leant you forty-five minutes later, bottle of whiskey on the table in front of you, your cell phone once again on do not disturb with a growing collection of missed calls and voicemails.
******************
You stumble back into your apartment the next morning, still dressed in your sister’s pajamas, evening dress bunched over your arm. Your expensive heels hang almost pathetically from your fingers, a reminder of a failed night out, having been replaced by a pair of old flip flops.
“Hey,” a voice says, and you’re not necessarily surprised to see him standing in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. He looks tired, more tired than you’ve seen in a long time, and you wince, knowing a large part of it is due to you.
“Hey,” you whisper in reply. You set your shoes and dress on your kitchen table, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “What are you doing here?”
Matt’s eyebrows shoot up in slight surprise, mouth parting. “Am I…unwelcome here? Am I intruding?”
“No, of course not,” you say in a rush, disliking the way his beautiful face flashes with something that looks like hurt. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
“You would have known if you bothered to answer my calls or listen to any of the several voicemails I left last night.”
You hang your head in shame and guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“I had no idea what was going on,” he tells you, placing his coffee cup on the counter and taking a slow step forward. There's a look of concern on his face, though it's buried under a level of irritation and exasperation that seems to be slowly settling in. “You were just…gone.”
“I told Foggy and Karen that my sister–”
“You’re a horrible liar, sweetheart,” Matt says with a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “They knew something was up, and unfortunately I was still too far away to know something had happened to actually do anything.”
“Nothing hap–”
“Did you miss the part where I just said you are a horrible liar?”
Your jaw snaps shut. 
“Your sister finally called me back last night after you went to bed, or else I would have had no idea where you were,” Matt says, and he sounds extremely frustrated. “You can’t…you can’t just disappear on me like that.”
You know the way people have just up and left him in the past without a word, you know the way it has continued to leave scars on him, and it makes you feel incredibly guilty. But it doesn't stop the way you begin to also feel defensive, a direct result of the weeks of hurt still flowing through you. 
“I’m not a child, Matt,” you tell him in something that could almost be construed as a snap. “You don’t need to know my whereabouts all hours of the day.”
He looks like he’s been slapped and you wince, already regretting the words. “That’s not–you think that’s what this is? Me being clingy? Or–or me trying to control what you do?”
“No–”
“Foggy said you ran out of there last night looking like you were about to burst into tears and all I could do was call and call and call and pray that you were okay. You went to your sister’s place in Jersey because you knew I wouldn’t be able to track you the further away you got, right? That I would have no idea where you were unless someone told me?"
You flinch, you can't help it. “That wasn’t the only rea–”
“And all because a woman mistook Karen as my girlfriend instead of you?” He asks incredulously. “How childish is that?”
It’s your turn to feel like you’ve been slapped. Your cheeks flood in shame, embarrassment, pain. You’re not quite sure how to respond to it, because a part of you knows how childish it had been. But the insecurity is not based on one event, but a series of them, and the chorus of voices in your head that tells you you're not good enough for him has been growing steadily louder since that night at the bar.
Matt’s words have effectively stunned you into silence, and while you open your mouth several times to speak, nothing comes out. Your shoulders sag, and you all but curl into yourself, hugging your arms around your waist in an effort to appear as small as possible.
To take up as little space as possible. 
The way Matt is still tense tells you that he had been ready for you to fire something back at him, some sort of rebuttal that he’d easily tear down as he would in court, and when you don’t, he seems confused. His brow furrows as you all but wilt in front of him. 
You watch as a flicker of realization passes over his face, and you cringe. He's caught on, and you don't like it.
“It actually…it actually hurt you,” he says, and his voice is startlingly quiet, a sharp contrast to the way he had sounded so heated and frustrated just moments before. “Didn’t it?”
You give a noncommittal shrug, shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly, but otherwise don’t have any sort of reaction. 
Matt licks his lips, and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion even in your misery. “Why…why did that upset you so much?” You shrug your shoulders again, but he shakes his head, as if refusing your lack of a response. “No-no, don’t do that. You can’t have a reaction like that and expect me to just not say anything about it, to not want to know what’s wrong or what I can do to fix it. Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Your eyes are welling with tears before you can even try to stop them, and with a quiet whine, you cover your face in your hands. 
You hear Matt swear, and before you can even take your first shuddering breath, he is wrapped around you. Your head is tucked under his chin, a hand cradling the back of your skull to keep you pressed into him, the other wrapped around your back. You leave your hands covering your face, unwilling to tear down the barrier at the moment. You’re barely holding things in as it is, and the thought of exposing yourself to him completely right now is terrifying.
He’s whispering soothing words into your ear, the same things he always tells you when he knows you’re upset, and while the words take the edge off, they’re not a match for the misery that’s got you shredded by its claws.
Eventually he takes a step back, though his body is still pressed lightly against yours. With slow movements, he removes his arms from around you, and gently tries to pry your hands from your face. You struggle against him for a moment, tears still soaking your hands, but you give in, as you so often do, when it comes to the gentle force that is Matt Murdock.
He tilts your face up and places a soft kiss onto your forehead, palms cupping your face as he gently wipes the tears that have dripped down your cheeks. His eyes dance blindly across your face, and though he can’t see the way your sadness has literally poured from you, he can feel the way the heat of the tears have scalded you on their way down.
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, still cradling your face in his scarred, calloused hands. “What happened?”
You take a deep breath, one that sounds more like a gasp than anything, and keep your eyes squeezed shut. “Everyone always…everyone always assumes you’re with her.”
“With Karen?”
You nod, fingers twisting themselves into the t-shirt he’s wearing. 
“It’s happened more than once?”
“It happens all the time,” you tell him with something that sounds suspiciously like another sob. His frown deepens. “And maybe…maybe I just hear it more now because I've become so sensitive to it, but it’s happened quite a few times. And I know how stupid it is because I shouldn’t listen to what other people say, but it still just sucks to hear it over and over again.”
“What do people say?”
You try to twist out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. He presses another kiss to your forehead and asks the question again, softer this time. “They say…they say how beautiful you are together. How you’ll have beautiful children together. And when they–when they see that you’re with me instead, it’s almost like it’s offensive to them.”
Matt makes a mournful sound in the back of his throat, thumb catching a new wave of tears that trail down your cheeks at the admission. “None of that matters to me. You know that. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and I don't need to be able to see you to know that.”
“I know,” you whimper, and the sound makes you feel borderline pathetic. “But it matters to me.”
“Why, sweetheart?”
“Because it’s like everyone is saying I’m not good enough for you,” you say, still keeping your eyes closed as you expel the root of the insecurity. You feel like you're tearing yourself apart for him, the wounds every bit as real as the ones you spend night after night patching up on him. 
“She is beautiful and kind and all the wonderful things you can think about a person. And I love Karen, she is such a wonderful person, and I'm incredibly lucky to call her a friend." You open your eyes briefly, taking in the way Matt looks just as pained at the words spilling from your mouth. "But it’s hard when everyone is basically telling me that she’s the person you should be with. And it’s–it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing before. But hearing it come from other people just makes it worse.”
“Why would you–”
“And then Foggy told me–”
“Foggy?”
“--that you and Karen used to date,” you continue, as if the words can’t be stopped now. “He told me that you were together briefly, and that maybe it would have continued had Elektra not come into the picture. He said he had half-expected you two to perhaps get back together, or to try again. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. That maybe I’m just some placeholder until–”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he says, and though he hasn’t raised his voice, the tone is stern and it finally manages to cut you off. You lower your head, but he lifts it back up. “Open your eyes.” With a deep breath, you do so, his face coming into view above yours. His mouth is parted in something that both resembles shock and slight frustration. “I am with you because I love you. Not because I can’t have Karen. Not because it didn’t work out with her. I am not with her because I don’t want her. I want you, only you.” 
“But–”
“We went on one date, and I knew pretty early on that even though it felt nice for a moment, it was never going to be something that was sustainable, or worth fighting for because she wasn’t right for me. There is nothing between us, and there hasn’t been in years, and there won’t ever be again, because I am with the person I want to be with,” he tells you fiercely, pressing his forehead into yours, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I am yours in every single way. And whatever you need from me to help you believe that, say the word and it’s yours.”
His tone is once again quiet and gentle by the time he’s finished speaking, and the words are a balm that rushes through your skin, putting out and soothing the heat and anxiety that has been coursing through your veins since the night before. You take shuddering breath after shuddering breath, attempting to bring your heart rate back down to normal, and at last you succeed.
“Sweetheart?” he asks gently when you’re quiet for too long. He pulls his head back, head tilted down towards you in the way you’re so familiar with. “Tell me what you need from me.”
You shake your head, contemplating the right words. “I can’t think of anything that you don’t already do, Matt,” you admit softly. “You…you already know what I need before I even know how to articulate it.”
He's quiet for a moment before he opens his mouth. "Do we need to…keep a little distance from her for a bit?" He looks deeply unsettled by the idea, and it's equally disorienting to you, too.
"God, no," you say with a gasp, jerking back as far as his hold on you will let you. "None of this is on her, at all. And I don't want her to feel like she did anything, because she didn't."
Matt looks relieved. "I didn't think it would be something you'd go for, but I wanted to throw it on the table, in case you did need some space."
You shake your head. "No, I don't need anything like that. I promise. Foggy and Karen are my friends, too, you know," you tell him, mouth tilted ever slightly at the corner as you think about all the memories you've shared over the past year. "Sure, I met them through you, but I love them. You're a package deal, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
He tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. "They feel the same way about you."
You can't help the way your smile widens slightly. "Good…I'm glad."
Matt places another kiss on your forehead, pausing again before he speaks. “I like to think I'm good at reading you,” he says softly, eyes landing on your shoulder, the color almost green in the sunlight that's pouring in from your kitchen window. “And I like to think that not a lot gets by me. But this did. And it seems like it’s been there for a while.”
You shrug, as always trying to downplay the way you’re feeling, but per usual, Matt doesn’t let you get away with it. 
“It was a miss on my part,” he continues with a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on the fact that something was off.”
“Nothing about this is your fault, so please don’t apologize.” He opens his mouth to object, but you shush him with a soft finger on his lips. “I could have said something. I know how to use my words. I… purposefully avoided you when I was feeling like this because I knew you’d pull it out of me eventually. So that’s on me, I think.”
He looks contemplative for a second, before a small smile graces his face. You trace his mouth with the finger that’s already resting there, and he takes the opportunity to press a kiss to it. “I’ll make an effort to listen more for when something might be upsetting you, and you’ll make an effort to talk to me about it. Deal?”
Nodding, you mirror the small grin. “Deal.”
“And if I feel the need to pull you close and put my hands on you in public so that everyone knows you're mine, you'll be okay with that, right?"
You can't help but huff a laugh. "Matt–"
"Or if you prefer, you can do the same to me, whenever the need arises," he says innocently.
Your eyebrows raise. "Why do I feel like you're asking me to claim you in public?"
"It's a mutual claiming, sweetheart."
You roll your eyes fondly. "I guess when you put it that way, how can I say no?"
Matt smirks as he lowers his mouth towards yours, hand slipping into your hair so that you are angled perfectly beneath him. "Seal it with a kiss?”
“Absol–”
His lips are on yours before you’re done speaking the word.
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eddiesxangel · 10 months
Text
Hey Siri, Play Jealous by Nick Jonas | BarTender!Eddie
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ty @mmunson86 for the idea 😚
Wc 2.4k
Cw: You see another woman flirting with your husband when you go to visit him at work, smut ok no minors 🔞 only description of the reader is what they are wearing
You’re late, Eddie was expecting you at his bar at 8:00pm like always, except it was already 8:45pm and you were just leaving the house. You were running behind because you were trying to look extra special for him. It has been a while since the two of you had been intimate. You’ve been married for a little over a year now and to say you’re still in the honeymoon faze is an understatement. However in the past month or so, it’s been lacking. Work has been draining you so much that you’d only want to sleep after the two of you would come home from closing up the bar. Eddie's business was doing very well, so much so that he needed to hire more help but training had been taking longer than expected, so there was no way he was able to leave the bar unsupervised, he had to work.
You wanted to get dolled tonight for the both of you. That’s why you decide to go all out for him, to show just how much you want him. Your hair was done at the salon after work, you refreshed your makeup to more of an evening look and you bought new lingerie just as a surprise, and to top it off you put on that midnight blue mini dress he loves so much. That’s why you’re late tonight.
You walk into the bar and take in the familiar surroundings. You make a B line to the main bar to the far right, and you spot him immediately. There he is, leaning over the bar, a toothy smile plastered on his face, his hair was down, framing his beautiful chiselled face, both elbows resting leaning into someone that you can’t quite see yet over the crowd. As you make your way through the horde of people you’re able to make out who it is he’s speaking to. Your heart stops and a wave of insecurities washes through you. The person he is charming was a beautiful brunette, evidently sitting alone. You can automatically tell by her body language that she’s openly flirting with your husband. The sirens in your mind are screaming, MINE MINE MINE. Can she not see the single wedding ring adorning his hand? It’s not like the other hand, hidden with the rest of his signature rings.
Eddie stands up, turning to make another drink, mid-way through he spots you. At first, he’s taken aback by how good you’re looking tonight. You have on that tight low-cut dress he loves so much. Was that a push-up bra you were wearing? Yes, it was. As you got closer the smell of your perfume consumed his sense, it was the same one you wore on your wedding night. Was tonight your anniversary? No, it wasn’t. Eddie was sure of it. So why were you all dressed up?
You sit down on the bar stool next to the leggy Brunette, side-eyeing her as you do. Eddie always knows how to read you, he knows you are about to start acting up. Eddie enjoys it, so he lets it happen.
“What can I get for you doll face?” Eddie eyes you up and down. He clocks your jealousy in a second.
“Whatever she isn’t having” nodding to the drink he had just made the brunette.
He playfully rolled his eyes while she scoffs at you. So this is how you’re going to play tonight? Yes. Do you care she is a paying customer? No. She’s probably thinking her drinks will be free by flashing her tits to your husband.
Eddie gets to work on your favourite drink, you don’t have to tell him, he didn’t have to ask, but he wanted to have some fun.
“I don’t know who you think you are but I saw him first.” The brunette flips her long hair over her shoulder.
“Oh really? Did you now?” You raise your perfectly sculpted brows to her. You can see Eddie’s shoulder slightly moving up and down like he’s stifling a laugh, which he was.
“Looks like you’re taken anyway, what your man who gave you that rock not satisfying you?” She motions to the 2-karat diamond ring Eddie gave you as an engagement ring. It's sat there for 3 years along with the newer wedding band to match. So she notices your ring but not Eddie’s? “Have to run out on him like a little tramp?” She smirks thinking she’s won the battle.
You don’t think twice, you hop your ass on the bar, swing your legs over and plop down on the other side. You grab Eddie’s shirt by the collar, startling him a bit, and kiss him. You kiss him hard, calming your territory and he pulls away.
“This chick bothering you baby?” You look over at her, face in shock. Eddie didn’t think It wasn’t funny anymore, he should have stopped the situation from escalating sooner,
He firmly whispers in your ear to go to his office and don’t talk to any more customers on your way there...You’re in trouble. what you did was unprofessional. However, technically you didn’t work there. You walk from behind the bar and he apologized to the brunette for your actions, yet she’s the one who called you a slut.
Not even 5 minutes later the door swings open and slams shut. Eddie locks the door and turns to see you sitting in his desk chair.
“on your knees. Now.” He points to the ground in front of him.
As you slowly get up revealing that you’d taken off your dress leaving you in just the black lacy set you had on underneath for him. If he was affected by it, he didn’t show it, he just continues speaking.
“You think you can play these games while I’m at work? You think you can just walk in here an hour late, start acting up, looking like that, and you’re not going to get into trouble?” Your pricing eyes look up so innocently like you’ve done nothing wrong.
“You’re mine, and you were flirting with that wom-”
“Are you talking back to me right now?” Eddie cuts you off.
You both know this isn’t how he truly feels. This was your little song and dance the two of you did. You could see he was holding back a smirk.
“No” you answered.
“Don’t make me tell you again” he cupped your throat and you let a moan slip.
You sunk ever so slowly to your knees. His cock was already painfully hard, seeing you kneel before him.
You grazed your hand over his tented jeans.
“You’re in no place to tease sweetheart “ he undid his pants shoving them and his underwear down to release his cock. The tip was already red and leaking pre cum, ready and waiting for you.
“Open up sweetheart, show me you can be my good girl”
He didn’t have to tell you twice, you opened your mouth slightly sticking out your tongue. He slapped the head of his dick on it a few times before sliding it in.
His head fell back with pleasure, as your warm wet mouth consumed him.
“You’re taking it so well baby, being such a good girl” he didn’t give you a chance to take control he just slowly thrust into your mouth, slowly picking up speed as he began to throat fuck you.
“You think I would want anyone but this perfect mouth baby? Do you think I would want to replace you with someone else? Not a chance “ he spoke through gritted teeth.
You can feel a puddle of heat collecting in your panties. Your blood was rushing south, your now swollen clit was throbbing and begging to be touched. Eddie gripped your hair at the back of your head. You’re sure your perfectly styled hair was now ruined. The tears were forming in your eyes as he continuously fucked into your mouth.
“My perfect girl, look at you, so good to me” He abruptly pulled out giving you a chance to catch your breath. He placed his hands on your shoulders to lift you up. He grabbed your throat as he kissed you sloppily.
“Get on the couch” he walks you backwards, hand still attached to your throat, kissing you until the backs of your knees fold against the plush green corduroy. You plop down with a bounce.
“Spread those legs for me baby, let me see you” he hovered over you, both hands settled beside each ear on the back of the couch.
You slowly opened your legs, exposing more of he delicate black lacy number you had on.
He trails a single finger down your chest, across your tummy, and stopped at the hem of your thong.
“This new baby?” He pinches is fingers into the gusset of your panties and snaps the material.
“Already soaked for me and I haven’t even touch you yet.” He motioned to his fingers covered with your heat.
“Baby, please touch me” You grind your hips into nothing, begging for his touch, the only touch that ever gives you the amount of pleasure you desire.
“You think you deserve it? You’ve been naughty” He questioned.
“Yes, baby, please, I need you, it’s been so long, I need it, please” You’re begging your husband to fucking touch you and he was reviling in it.
“You need me to claim you? Let everyone know who you belong to? Hmmm is that it? Not enough that I made you my wife? Just had to claim me in front of everyone in the bar”
“Yes you're mine” you state.
“Fine, but only because I haven’t tasted this pussy in weeks” He didn’t give you time to reply. He moved so quickly, shoving your lacy panties to the side and attaching his lips to yours. He ran his hot tongue up your slit, collecting all your wetness in his wake. He hummed into your pussy as a sign of enjoyment. He circled your clit, finally getting relief from the pulsing that has been building since the second you walked into the bar. You groped the back of his head like he did you minutes before. “Oh right there!” You let your head rest on the back of the couch, soaking in the marvellous feeling of Eddie's mouth on you. His 5 o’clock shadow was brushing your inner thighs as he ran his face up and down, and side to side. He was devouring you. Every touch, every kiss, every lick was consuming you. The build on your lower abdomen was growing, you were being wound up tighter and tighter. “More please” You managed to whisper.
“Good girl, remembering her manners” Eddie spoke into you while inserting a single finger into your wet hole. “More baby, I need more” You ground your hips into him.
“Greedy greedy girl” Eddie takes his finger out of you just as quickly as it went in, he gives your pussy a small slap and stood up. You cried at the loss of him, but it was short-lived. He crouched down to bring one leg up and rested it on his shoulder. He lines himself up at your entrance and groaned as his throbbing cock slid into you effortlessly.
“This what you wanted baby? *thrust* To fuck you *thrust* in my bar *thrust* You got all pretty just for me? *thrust* All pretty just so I would fuck you silly tonight is that it?” You couldn’t answer, you were in fact being fucked dumb. Eddie sped up with each thrust and with each thrust the head of his cock would brush up against that spot. The spot that made you see stars.
“Answer me” he gripped your chin and made you look into his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes that made you fall in love with him. Looking into his eyes snapped you back into reality. “No, it’s not what I wanted” his hips stopped mid-thirst not expecting your answer. You strain your neck to connect your lips. You kiss him, you’re desperate for his affection. Touch starved by the weeks without intimate moments like this. Eddie kissed you back with the same need you both needed this just as much as the other.
“No baby it’s what I needed” you spoke into his mouth. Eddie groaned and flipped you over. He yanked down your thong and bent down to give your pussy one last kiss before splitting you open again. The new angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head, and the sounds of your moans, and skin-to-skin filled the room. Your moans could be heard above the sounds of the noisy bar on the other side of the door, but none of that mattered.
“Baby touch me please I’m so close” you panted. A hand reaches around your lower tummy down your mound and attached to your clit. A cry of pleasure left your mouth as he grazed your clit while plowing into you.
“Give it to me baby, claim me as yours” Eddie gritted out, you can tell he was getting tired but he wasn’t about to give up.
“Your pussy was made for me, going to fill you up with my cum, gunna give you a baby”
His words had you coming on his cock instantly, your body shook with pleasure and he continued to pound into you as he rode out your orgasm and chased his. “Give me your cum baby, I need it. I wanna have your baby” you cried as he continuously fucked into you balls deep, they were slapping your clit overstimulating you just prolonging your orgasm. That seemed to do for Eddie. You beg Eddie to fill you with his cum making him pump his hot load into you time and time again.
You felt Eddie slump his body over yours as he let out a sigh.
“God I missed this” he gave you a peck on the cheek before pulling out. You whimpered at the loss of connection.
He damped some paper towels with his water bottle to clean you up. It’s the best he could do without having to go back into the bar bathroom.
“Don’t ever think I would want any other girl other than you” he kissed you before having to walk back out into the bar. The impromptu 30-minute break was not on the schedule. He needed to make sure everything was ok in the bar. You found your dress and walked back out like nothing happened.
The leggy brunette was now snuggled up to some other guy in the back booth, you make eye contact and give her a little wink. Eddie was already back behind the bar, lipstick still smudged on his face but you couldn’t really tell in the dim light.
“See you at home for round two hot stuff” You leaned over the bar to give him one last kiss goodbye. Eddie groaned, he still has 2 hours left until closing he wasn’t sure he could wait that long.
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cottonlemonade · 6 days
Note
can i have a menu a with a soda and dorayaki and sit next to oikawa!!!
Keeping Your Enemy Close
word count: 1460 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.
pairing: rival!Oikawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)
genre: fluff
warnings: none
request: fluffy, school festival with rival Oikawa
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“Do you want to know what I think?”
“No.”
“But-”
“Never, actually.”
Oikawa pouted, “Iwa-chan.” and then looked to Makki and Mattsun who immediately developed an immense interest in their shoes and surroundings. The four third years were busy leaning against a rickety folding table underneath a banner advertising the volleyball club, but even though many girls came over to check it out, boys seemed to make a wide swerve around them. They had only gotten three possible new applicants thus far.
“What do you think, Oikawa-san?”
The boys groaned when, with a wide smile and a flourish, Oikawa turned to yet another girl who had asked. She was nervously kneading her hands and blushing furiously. They knew her as a new addition to his fanclub, but to be honest they started to blend together for the other three. All gorgeous and leggy, she was definitely the captain’s usual type. Oikawa leaned in to whisper something in her ear they luckily couldn’t hear, then the girl gasped quietly and nodded before linking her arm with her friend and wandering off, throwing longing gazes over her shoulder at the setter, who waved after her.
“I think I’ll give it another week and then I’ll ask her out.”, he said, half to himself, half to his friends who quite frankly, couldn’t care less.
But a loud scoff came from their left and the boys turned to see their chubby class president with folded arms next to a stall handing out flyers.
“Something the matter, y/n-chan?”, Oikawa asked sweetly.
“Don’t call me that.”, you said automatically but the boy only grinned and regarded you with his signature teasing gaze.
“But you seem to like it, hm? Y/n-chan~ Now, what’s wrong?”
You clutched the flyers in your hands tighter in an attempt to control your breathing. “I just pity her, that’s all.”, you said after calming your heart a bit.
“Hm? Is that so? Are you sure it’s not because you want to go out with me?”
You knew you would get in trouble if someone reported you smacking him over the head with the flyers - again. So you resorted to glaring menacingly.
Because you didn’t have an answer.
Because you wanted nothing more, actually, than to have Oikawa Tooru notice you like that and ask you out.
But you would never tell him.
Instead you changed the subject and focused on the only thing that grounded your sanity.
“Tuck in your shirt before I write you up.”
Oikawa sighed and did as he was told, making very sure to slightly lift the shirt first to give you a glimpse of his toned stomach. He smirked when your lips parted slightly at the sight.
“So how about it, y/n-chan?”, he asked while carefully straightening out his uniform, “Should I take you out for a date? We could go to a park, maybe hold hands if you're nice to me and if you’re really nice to me I might even consider giving you a kiss or two.” He winked. He enjoyed this game way too much.
Iwaizumi, Mattsun and Makki had stepped aside, getting out of the way of your wrath.
“I would never.”, you held tighter onto the flyers for support, hoping your voice wouldn’t fail you as you went on, “I would never go out with someone as vain and arrogant and immature as you. You’re nothing but a volleyball obsessed gymnasium-dweller who happened to have slightly above average looks.”
Oikawa took that personally. He only stared wide eyed as you stomped away.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to Mattsun as he shrugged, ”Well at least she thinks you’re handsome.”
Iwaizumi frowned, “That’s what you got from that?”
Oikawa knew you didn’t mean it. At this point, he could tell the difference between someone genuinely despising his guts and someone who was only trying to hide their true feelings. To be honest, you weren’t on his mind outside of school and even then he mostly drifted off while you made announcements in front of the class. To him you were just there, clearly in denial about your crush on him because of course he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Maybe he would go out with you, he thought. If only to prove a point. He wanted you to be putty in his hands and confess that you were into him, just so he could go a day without getting written up for things like untucking his shirt or kissing behind the gym.
He watched you weave your way through the masses of students and parents, all happily chattering and checking out the different offers from the stands at the school festival. And making up his mind, he went after you.
He found you in an empty classroom, carefully putting some kind of announcement on the blackboard, your hand steady, writing neat and precise.
“Can I talk to you for a moment, y/n-chan?”
He heard you sigh before turning to him.
“What is it?”
He stepped in, closing the door behind him to mute the distant voices of students hurrying through the corridors.
Leaning against the only exit, arms crossed in front of his chest, he said, “I wasn’t kidding, you know. About taking you on a date.”
You made some kind of sound that was probably supposed to be a scathing one but instead came out as a squeaky sort of cough. Pushing off the door he swaggered over to you until he was standing right behind you. You hadn’t looked at him yet.
“Hm? Y/n? What do you say? Wanna go on a date with me?”
His voice was low and sweet - he knew this particular tone usually made his girlfriends melt and he was glad to see that it worked on you as well. He extended a hand to half trap you between him and the blackboard for good measure. Goosebumps formed on your neck and when you finally turned around to him, there was a very distinct blush dusting your cheeks in stark contrast to your sour expression, the desperate attempt of returning his sweetness with disgust.
“Stop it, Oikawa-san.”
“Or what?” He leaned down to meet your eyes, leaving only two or three handwidths between your face and his. He could smell your shampoo. It was a pleasant scent, eucalyptus maybe.
When you didn’t say anything but the pink on your cheeks turned a deeper shade he leaned in further. He felt your shaky shallow breath on his skin.
When he didn’t budge, you closed your eyes and… seemed to wait.
Oikawa couldn’t help it and chuckled. Your eyes shot open and you watched as he lowered his head before throwing it back in full on laughter.
“I knew it! I knew it, y/n-chan.”, he sing-songed, not moving away, “Next time you write me up just-“
He was cut off but your lips on his. It was nothing more than a quick peck but it definitely shut him up.
You must have worn some kind of lip gloss or chapstick - the kiss left a faintly fruity taste behind.
He blinked. What was that?
And you were about to duck away when his free hand held you by your waist and he leaned in for a second kiss, catching you by surprise this time. It was again a sweet, innocent kind of kiss, only gently touching the other’s lips. When he moved away he searched your eyes for a moment and you held your breath when he went for a third. Closing his eyes, he really let himself get a feel and sense for you. The hand previously laid against the blackboard now cupped your cheek to draw you closer. He swiped his tongue against your lower lips and gently pushed into your mouth. He tasted the tangerine ramune that stood next to your notes on the teacher’s desk. This didn’t make any sense. It was not the tangerine that made him dizzy. You were… addictive. How?
Propelled by some unknown bravery your hands ran through his hair, drawing an involuntary hum from deep in his throat. His large hand on your waist squeezed and he moved in closer, needing to feel more. But before he could conduct further studies you pushed him away, panting slightly - your lips reddened and hair a little disheveled. He was too stunned to stop you when you weaseled out of his arms and ran out the door.
“Oikawa-san?”, he heard a familiar voice call from the corridor, “Oh, Oikawa-san, there you are. Do you want to come have some lunch with me?”
It was the girl from earlier. “Coming.”, he said quietly, absentmindedly and followed her, still tasting tangerines.
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a/n: thank you so so much for your request! This one got so away from me. I hope you enjoyed it tho 🌟
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daydream-cement · 8 months
Text
Little Walks
Miranda Hilmarson x Reader
Just little walks taken Miranda to your car.
Author's Note: Just a random lil fic. Thank you to @bri-sonat for your beta <3
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“You’re Y/n, right?” A voice called from behind you. It was familiar enough to remind you of two distinct characteristics of its owner: cute smile & great tipper.
You stopped and turned your head, pausing to wait for the leggy blonde who was walking fast to catch up to you. Her excitement to see you was obvious, involuntarily giving you butterflies. You greet her with a nod and a big smile, “Constable. I haven’t seen you for a while. How have you been?”
Miranda fell into stride with you, her joy was infectious, “Busy, but good! I’ve been meaning to come back in. I miss that hot chocolate you made me.” 
“I can assure you, there is nothing special about my hot chocolate.” You laugh, turning your chin upwards to catch a glimpse of her face. Much to your surprise, Miranda was already looking at you, her blue hues unwavering when they locked on your own. There go the butterflies again.
“I’d beg to differ.” Miranda shot back before dropping her gaze. Her tone suggested flirtation and the growing blush on her cheeks made you turn your attention to the sidewalk before you could get your hopes up. The constable’s eyes were glued to her boots kicking at a patch of gravel, her confidence wavering, “...do you usually get off work around now?”
You had no reason to lie to the tall constable, rather you were keen on getting to know her, so sharing things about yourself made sense. “For the most part, yeah. I like it when they give me a consistent schedule.” 
“Cool... cool...” Miranda nodded nonchalantly, her cheeks showing signs of a suppressed smile.
--
She had started this little habit of waiting for you after a few times of eating at the restaurant where you waited tables. Hilmarson had gone two straight weeks of waiting for you to walk you to your car just to spend time with you. Her chivalrous offer to walk with you to your car was unexpected (and somewhat unnecessary), but how could you say no to those sweet eyes, and why would you want to? 
To you, it was all one big coincidence that Miranda was always nearby patrolling when you walked down the alleyway toward your car. It was just a wonderfully serendipitous moment where her work schedule coincided with yours. 
She would ask you about your day and sometimes speak vaguely of her work. You knew you had a small crush forming when you watched the way she would coo at passing dogs and cats sitting in the windows of the apartments they called home.
Miranda spoke incoherently in a high-pitched voice, squatting low to welcome an overexcited puppy into her arms. The constable enjoyed the animal’s attention for a long while before she looked up at you with a great big smile, “Isn’t she adorable?”
“She is…” You say, eyes focused on the constable. Your agreement was two fold - while the puppy was adorable, so was the woman crouched in front of you. Your gaze caused the blonde to look away, a blush spreading on her face when she realized your words had more than one meaning.
The puppy continued on with her walk and Miranda and you did the same. There was an awkwardness between you, but you saw the constable smirking from the corner of your eye. 
The silence continued until you reached your car, the constable quickly reached out and opened your car door for you, “Hey, Y/n… I was thinking, uhm…”
Butterflies began swarming in your stomach and you paused in front of the constable, watching her expectantly. “Mhm? What is it, Andy?”
You could see the constable’s eyes go soft at the use of the nickname, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she considered her words carefully. “Well, I was wondering… if you have time…”
Your eyes went wide and you leaned in closer, desperately hoping Miranda was finally going to ask you out.
“Do you think you, uh… could text me where you got that top? It’s… very cute.” Miranda looked away from you, her eyes squeezing shut as she realized how disappointed she was in herself.  She had completely chickened out and couldn’t bear to see the look on your face.
And it’s a good thing she looked away. You were so disappointed. You actually thought she was going to ask you out.
“Oh… Uhm, yeah. Sure.”
“Great. Thanks.”
The rest of your interaction was so strange. Miranda was as polite and kind as always, but there was a newfound distance between the two of you as she bid you goodbye and closed your car door. 
--
Miranda stared at her shoes as she leaned against a building and waited for you to get off work. She was ten minutes early so she wouldn’t miss you. This walk to your car would be different. That's what she kept telling herself anyway.
She held a cigarette between her middle and forefinger while her cell phone was wedged between her ear and shoulder. The constable spoke in a hushed tone to her partner, “I’m not going to chicken out! Don’t say that...”
“I don’t know about that. You didn’t ask them out the past two times you said you would. I’m just assuming you’ll do it again.” Robin was plain in her criticisms of her best friend, not sugarcoating anything for the constable. 
Miranda took a drag of her cigarette and pouted, “I swear, Rob. I’m gonna ask them for dinner on Friday.”
“You better. Otherwise, I’m going to have to listen to your pining for another week.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“I’m not wrong. Whenever we are together, it’s ‘Y/n did this’, ‘Y/n did that.’ It’s never-ending, I swear, Mir.”
The two’s bickering was cut off when Miranda turned her eyes up and caught a glimpse of you leaving through the side door in the alleyway. The constable swiftly hung up on Robin and tamped out her cigarette on the brick wall nearby. “Y/n!” 
You paused with a great big smile, treasuring the image of Miranda jogging down the alleyway to walk at your side. After Miranda had acted so strange yesterday, you were filled with determination to ask her out. You tried to make sure your flirting was as thinly veiled as possible - your hand reaching out to squeeze her forearm as unabashedly admired her face, “Good afternoon, constable.” 
“H-hey...” the constable was taken aback by your forwardness, her thoughts stalling as she looked from your eyes to your hand. “I, uh, brought you something.”
You giggled and looked over her person expectantly, wondering what she could have possibly gotten you, “Really?”
“Yes! It’s right, uh- Right here.” Miranda searched her pockets until she found the little shell sitting in her pant pocket. She held it out to you with a great big smile. “Yesterday, you said you never get to go to the beach as much as you want to... So I.. uhm.. brought the beach to you.”
Her thought and pure sweetness made your heart ache. You pouted slightly as you took the small olive shell from her palm between your fingers, examining it for a moment before squeezing it in your fist. “Thank you, Andy...”
Andy. She loved when you used that sweet nickname. Never had she liked it before it fell off your lips.
“I found it on this beach when Robin and I were out of town doing interviews. I was actually thinking you would like it a lot there...”
“I’m sure I would. Maybe you should take me sometime?”
Miranda’s whole body was buzzing with excitement. “Really? Together?”
“Absolutely.”
You both spoke simultaneously, “Like a date?”
Immediately, you looked away from one another. There was an abundance of excitement and energy between the two of you that created a thick silence.
Miranda took the brave next step in taking your hand and intertwining your fingers. She broke the silence in a hushed tone, “I was able to get a day off Friday… I know you usually don’t work those days. We could go then.”
“I would really like that…” You smile, meeting her eyes before lifting her hand to your lips to press a soft kiss to her skin.
Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @shyladyfan, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @principal-weems09, @imlike-so-gaydude, @emilynissangtr, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @oculusalien, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @bychrissi, @bitchr-mkay, @h-doodles, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @lilfartbox1, @mountain-bikingwitch, @aemilia19, @agathaandgwenslesbian, @gay-frogs08
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apocalypseornaw · 7 months
Text
Real or Not (Pt 3/5)
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Dean Winchester x Reader
You and the boys meet up with Camila
@lacilou you wanted pain
A/N: remember before you get too mad at Dean there's 2 more chapters!!
If there was one thing you'd learnt in your life especially as a hunter was using the fake it till you make it method. Bobby always said to keep your shoulders squared and head held high, even when you were terrified because it put forth the idea that you weren't.
You'd been silent the entire two hour car ride. You didn't want to speak to Sam nor Dean. You'd even taken the backseat saying you just had a small headache and wanted a quick nap. Rather Dean believed you or not you weren't sure.
"Maybe he doesn't care" the moment the thought slipped through your mind you felt a little bit of guilt for having such little faith in the man You'd spent the last few years in the bed of and so long before that as a friend to. He cared he just didn't assume to think you would lie to him.
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You actually almost dozed off about the time you felt the impala slow down and looked up to see Dean was pulling into a motel parking lot. You took a deep breath the moment you spotted Camila's mustang. You could do this, you were pretty damn professional when it came to the job, people were at risk.... kids. You could swallow anything you threw your way if it meant saving kids.
Sam glanced over his shoulder at you and you could see the unspoken question in his eyes "Sure you ok?" You gave him a small smile as Dean parked. You climbed out slowly, smoothing a hand down over your hair. You could do this.
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The moment the door to room three twenty two opened you heard Donna's voice flash through your mind "No one can make you feel bad about yourself unless you let em"
Camila was well if you were being honest nothing short of gorgeous. She was five foot nine so she was leggy, dark black hair was braided back in an intricate style leaving her bright blue eyes clear. The moment she spotted Dean a smile split her face and you felt your heart drop. You could do this.
She walked over to the three of you, her attention clearly on Dean as she said "Thanks for coming. I knew I needed backup as soon as I figured out what I was dealing with" Dean nodded "Sure thing" then turned towards you "You remember Y/N don't ya?"
Camila's eyes narrowed slightly when she looked at you but schooled her features before Dean or Sam saw it "Of course! You're Vivians niece" you forced a smile onto your face "That'd be me" Dean reached out and pulled you into his side "Well since we're all caught up want to update us on the case?"
If looks could kill you'd either be in heaven or hell just from the way Camila stared you down once she realized you and Dean were indeed together and it wasn't just a rumor floating around the hunters mill.
"Of course Deany" you felt yourself bristle but held it in. Kids were at risk, you had to remind yourself that.
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The location of where the kids had to be was narrowed down to two places. You stood next to Dean, across the table from Camila and Sam. Like it or not this was her case and her lead. She smiled at you "Y/N, we both know these two work best as a team as why don't they take one location and we take the other" there was something in her eyes, a challenge. She thought you'd back down.
You returned her smile fully "Guessing we're taking your car then because mines home at the bunker" She nodded "Of course"
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You were at the trunk of the impala taking one of the impromptu flamethrowers Dean held out. You were hoping your feelings weren't showing on your face but those hopes were dashed when he said "Y/N, you good?"
You nodded "Aces" he stared at you for a second then nodded "Be safe, come back to me in one piece" it probably shouldn't have bothered you but when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead instead of your lips you felt your stomach drop. He kissed Jody, Donna and Charlie on the forehead, not you.
You refused to fight before a hunt so you smiled "You too" then walked over to where Camila stood, very much looking like she was planning to feed you to a changeling.
"Ready to go?" You nodded as you heard the boys shut the doors of the impala. The moment the engine roared to life her smile dropped "a little strange he doesn't kiss you before a hunt, he always called it a good luck charm when he was with me" you felt your mouth fall open at her comment but once again that overly friendly mask fell into place "I'm kidding of course! I know this is a little awkward"
You laughed lightly but the only thought you had was to knock her perfectly white teeth down her throat and say you were joking. Instead you climbed into her car and shut the door.
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You walked through the abandoned warehouse slowly, checking every corner. The further you walked the more you were beginning to think the boys had caught the action. Camila was nearby, you could hear her footfalls echoing.
"Ya know Y/N, how long have you been with Dean?" You rolled your eyes before saying "Should we really be discussing my relationship mid hunt" she let out a bark of laughter "Oh come on sweetcheeks. It's apparent thr boys caught the fun. Why can't we talk a little"
You spun on your heel to see she was about two feet from you "I've been with Dean a few years" she nodded slowly "when did you move into the bunker" you shrugged "a few months after they found it" "so right after me and him broke up?" You shrugged again "Don't keep up with other people's relationships"
You started back walking, with intentions to head outside but stopped when she said "Funny that timeline is around the same time I told him to move on that I wasn't coming back to him" You felt your shoulders tense "What are you trying to say here Camila?"
She walked around you to be facing you before a smile slipped onto her face "Dean got with you because he couldn't have me. Want me to pull up the emails from us talking? Of him telling me how he loved me?" You knew your face had fallen even before she said "Oh honey did you think he followed up this" she motioned to herself then to you "With that?"
You'd taken enough, you swung on her felt a sense of satisfaction when it connected solidly. Instead of trying to swing back she simply cradled her jaw and smiled despite the blood dripped from her now split lip "I hit a nerve. You know I could have him back tonight. He loved me more than Lisa or Cassie. I went through thinking he wasn't what I wanted but he is, and you need to face it"
"If he still wants you why is he with me then?" You asked, mustering every ounce of false bravado you could. She took a step towards you "Did you know he was looking at rings at one point? He would've stopped hunting if I'd asked. Does that really compare to you and him? Has he even said he loves you?" You didn't reply but your face must have shown because she made a tsk tsk sound "You poor thing"
You could feel your hands shaking by that point and damn her she grinned "Oh feel free to hit me again! I can play victim then! Dean I don't know what happened she just attacked me" you motioned to the door of the warehouse "Leave now"
She motioned around "What, are you gonna walk?" You squared your shoulders and got nose to nose with her "If Dean wants a two faced bitch over an honest woman so fucking be it but I won't be disrespected" she cackled like a mad woman "You're a crazy bitch" before turning and walking out.
You waited until you heard her mustang pull over to let the tears that had been threatening to escape fall. She'd just picked at every fucking insecurity you had. Maybe she was right, if Dean loved her enough to even consider giving up hunting maybe you should take yourself out of the equation.
You walked out into the cool night air about the time your phone started ringing. It was Dean. You answered it "Hello?" The voice that hit your ears made your heart freeze over. Camila replied "Told ya" you hung up and stared at your phone before hitting Donna's number.
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You climbed into Claire's car and knew she had questions from the look in her eyes but luckily she didn't say anything besides "You headed to Donna's?" You nodded slowly before turning off your phone. Dean's number kept calling but you refused to hear Camilas voice any more. She'd won, you'd lost the man you loved.
@psychicbouquetblaze-stuff
@lacilou @saranghaey @stoneyggirl2 @marimarvelfan @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @backtotheshitshow @jackles010378 @leigh70 @diagnosedpsychosis @badassbitch-21
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chillyfeetsteak · 4 months
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those of you who have been following me for a long time may remember I used to have a rabbit named Sudie. She passed away in 2020 at the age of 12, and it's only recently I've been able to look at photos of her without crying. She was the absolute perfect pet and friend, and I've never known an animal like her before or since.
I was going through photos of her because I might get a memorial tattoo eventually, and I forgot how much she loved to sleep lying as flat as possible, with legs sticking waaaay out. Here's a leggy-out compilation for your dash
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abiiors · 11 months
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haunt // bed - pt. 1
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a/n: a while ago, i wrote do me a favour after which i said, i would write a matty hate sex fic. well this is it (and perhaps a bit more than anyone asked for), read dmaf again if you want to refresh your memory, or don't. there are 3 parts to this + an epilogue. i also know very little about western weddings, so ignore the inconsistencies lol.
a note about the banner: the photo in it is only meant to describe the dress, not the race, body type, hair colour, etc of the reader <3
minors dni! part 2, part 3
wc: 2.7k
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see u in an hour xx
charli’s text flashes on your screen, illuminating a small corner of the dimly lit room. it’s not that late in the day, in fact, it’s quite early—only about 10 am. you’re supposed to be hurrying around the room, checking for any last minutes things you might have forgotten. you won’t be back home until tomorrow after all. yet here you are, surrounded by the things that should have been packed in your bag last night. 
the dress, laid out on your bed, feels like a weapon; red silk slippery enough to slide between your fingers effortlessly. “a wily vixen”, that’s what charli had called you when she'd seen you in it for the first. the thought of that day—bridesmaids dress shopping with four other excited girls—brings a small smile to your face. 
everything laid out here is a weapon really; your four-inch, sharp heels, the delicate and dainty diamond jewellery, the makeup you plan on wearing—blood red lipstick, a perfect shade match for the dress. an expensive crystal bottle of the same perfume you have used for the past six years. 
familiarity breeds contempt. familiarity is also an excellent knife to twist in someone’s gut. because everything here, today, is meant to maul and wound him.
see you in an hour babe, love you. you write back and chuck your phone onto the pillow where it bounces a little before nestling between its creases. you stare at it, maybe your body still yearns for a call that will never come? no more can’t wait to see you up there. no more cheeky selfies in a state of half-undress. just a smooth, black screen.
right then…time to get going. 
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charli has been flittering around the room for the last twenty minutes. her white dress fits her like a dream, her makeup is a work of art and her excitement about marrying george is so palpable in the room that at least one person squeals or sighs every five minutes. 
most importantly, the smile on her face is a permanent fixture. and every time you look at it, a warmth spreads through your body. she deserves this—the happiness, the celebration. the happily ever after. no matter how your marriage ended, you won’t stop believing in it for her. 
“so!” charli walks over to you and takes your hand, “how do i look?” she twirls and the dress swirls around her, the tiny crystals catching light and making her shimmer like starlight.
you laugh in response, “like george is about to go into cardiac arrest the minute he sees you!”
the pair of you giggles like teenagers. you can so clearly picture it before it has even happened. the joy and love that will shine on george’s face; his excitement, quiet yet infectious and for a brief moment you’re transported back to your own walk down the aisle. 
small, unsure steps, worried about falling flat on your face in those tall heels, but all of that had evaporated the second you had seen his tear-stained face. and the bright smile that had bloomed a split second later. 
but that’s how long the ache lasts; a brief moment. it’s bad enough that you’re going to have to be civil to him, there’s no need to make it worse with unnecessary nostalgia. 
besides, there’s her to think about. 
she in question is a beautiful, leggy blonde who is at least seven years younger than him. not that you’ve seen either of them today…yet. it’s only because you and charli got drunk one night, four weeks before the wedding, and she felt bad about keeping it from you that matty had a plus one. and that’s how you fell into the rabbit hole of scrolling through this girl’s Instagram profile at two in the morning. 
if you thought you knew his type, you would be dead wrong. physically speaking, she is the exact opposite of you—someone who looks like they belong on a giant billboard in times square, perfect and stunning. then there’s the more questionable aspects of her feed. the flat tummy tea adverts and the paid partnerships with various brands that are always under fire for being unethical.
but that’s the ugly green monster rearing its head. it’s not like you aren’t known for indulging in vanity every once in a while. 
she will be here today, no doubt, clinging onto his arm like a decorative little thing—woah, where did that snide thought come from?! you shake your head to yourself, at least a little embarrassed. he’s not even here yet and he’s already screwing with your head; pushing you back into old jealous and insecure habits. someone clears their throat. 
nora, one of charli’s longtime friends, has her champagne glass raised. a toast. she takes a deep, shaky breath and smiles tearily at the room, about to give her sentimental speech when a resounding knock echoes and cuts her off before she has even begun. 
five heads turn to the locked door and you happen to be standing closest to it. 
‘i’ll get it,’ you tell no one in particular, hand already on the doorknob. the possibility of it hits you way too late. 
it hits you right as his clean-shaven face comes into view. 
it has been ten months. ten months since you gave up the last name healy and changed it back to your maiden name on all your official documents. it had felt like a form of catharsis, getting it done with such urgency back then. but you also remember the days when you would be asked to state your full name and stagger a little at how odd it sounded to no longer have healy in it. to not have a ring around your finger to fidget with. no one to hold you at night. 
but back to now. back to here. 
it’s not hard to see that he has changed a lot in the last ten months. he looks serious; not necessarily sombre—it’s his best friend’s wedding, after all—but mature, more grown up. the grey in his hair, in his beautiful curls, is now much more prominent. the crow's feet around his eyes are more or less the same (and it sends a small pang through you; has he not laughed recently?). his mouth holds—held—a faint smile that’s already slipping, already morphing into a thin line. the exact same face that you woke up to for years now turning into a mask of carefully arranged neutrality.
“charli,” he whispers roughly and then clears his throat, “here to check on charli.” and just like that, he steps past you and into the room where he’s engulfed into a hug by the bride (and slapped on the bum by another bridesmaid but you ignore that for now).
pointedly, you also ignore the sting that comes with being sidestepped so easily. 
you stand by the door, back still to the room, for a second longer than necessary. it doesn’t even register that you’re letting the warm spring air in. is this really how little seeing you impacts him? it must have. because if he’s here then she is also here. 
“tell him i’m fine!” charli’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you shut the door softly. “and tell him not to meddle, i’ve got my girls.” she looks at you over his shoulder and throws a wink. your gut tells you it’s nothing but a charity gesture, just trying to gauge the tension between you two. guilt gnaws at you—she shouldn’t have to play peacemaker, she shouldn’t have to worry about two adults behaving themselves. 
“only doing my duty here,” matty raises his hands defensively, “keeping the groom happy.” 
the rest of them tease and taunt him playfully while you take the time to admire—no, simply look at—his suit. it’s nowhere near as nice as the one he wore at your wedding, of course not. but it’s beautifully made, tailored to fit and accentuate his muscles. and there are a lot of those now, that much is evident from the way his sleeves stretch over his biceps. he fills it out nicely, not that he didn’t before, but something about the fabric straining across his arms does funny things to your stomach. funny, you thought that feeling was a thing of the past. then there’s the navy trousers that compliment his backside rather nicely. 
there’s a part of you that is appalled at all these observations you have been making but there’s another part—bored and much more matter-of-fact—that reminds you that there’s nothing under those clothes that you haven’t seen, touched, licked or sucked before. there’s nothing new. he is still the same as he was before, just now with a few extra muscles. 
“go away,” charli’s nudges him gently toward the door. “we’ll be out in fifteen.”
he hugs her just before he leaves, dropping a friendly kiss on her head. after everything you’re glad no one had to pick sides in the divorce. you’ve at least managed to hold the friend group together, even though the same can’t be said about your marriage. 
matty leaves just like he came in, sidestepping you and making sure he’s looking straight ahead. there’s a brief second however—a fraction of one really—when he slows down and breathes in. his adam’s apple bobs roughly and his face struggles to hold the blank expression. 
but it must have just been you projecting right? no one can go through that much in half a second. 
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“there you are, darling,” denise walks in on you mid-smoke. “i was looking for you.”
she’s in a beautiful pink dress that brushes her knees and makes her look ten years younger than she is. you blush slightly at having been caught smoking; it’s a recent habit, not one she would be aware of, and you don’t want her to judge you for it. 
“denise,” you try to hide the half-smoked cigarette, “you look beautiful.”
she pointedly looks at your hand and laughs. “my son does enough of that.” then she straightens up, as if bringing matty so casually into this conversation was a mistake. you suppose it was—it does make your heart skip a beat. 
“i just wanted to say hi, darling,” she adds hastily, “and look at you…” her eyes scan you from head to toe, linger on your face for just a second before she smiles again. “simply stunning.”
“thank you.” your voice comes out in a whisper, fighting to get past the lump in your throat. you didn’t think there would ever come a day when she would have to so formally stop by to ‘say hi’. yet here you are, almost a pair of estranged mother and daughter. 
“i don’t…” she starts but shakes her head minutely, “i don’t want to condescend you. but are you okay? with matty bringing that girl, i mean.”
that piques your interest. “that girl?” you stifle a little giggle. “sounds like you don’t like her…”
denise shrugs, leaning against the wall and looking at the bushes in front of her. “she’s okay, i guess.” then she takes a bit to smooth out her dress. “but she’s not you.”
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“dearly beloved…” the officiant, charli’s godfather, begins, which you tune out instantly. weddings are lovely and romantic, wedding speeches are dull and boring. besides, like it or not, something else has captured your attention. 
you stand behind the bride, holding the ring she’s supposed to put on george later. and right in front of you stands matty, holding the matching platinum band in his hands. adam and ross stand behind him, smiling and occasionally laughing along with the rest of the guests. you tried it at first too, to only keep your attention on george—who looks very handsome and beams wide the whole time—but it’s impossible when you feel your ex’s piercing stare right on you. 
you would have thought he would stick to the little ignoring act from before. instead, his eyes have lingered on you from the second you walked down the aisle as a part of the processional. tracking your every move, every small step. frankly, it’s insulting. does he think you would ruin the wedding as some sort of diabolical revenge against him? you scoff internally; of course, he would think such self-centred thoughts, it’s just all about him, after all.
you raise an eyebrow at him. what’s your fucking problem?
he smiles back; an arrogant curl of his mouth that turns his face from sweet to insufferable within a matter of seconds. you, his eyes seem to say, you’re my problem. 
well too fucking bad then…
you huff and look away to the side at the guests. it’s only about fifty people from both sides. just family and friends—a lovely kind of intimacy the couple had asked for. you smile at george’s parents who sit in the first row. his mum dabs at her eyes, clearly overwhelmed with emotion. and behind them sit denise and tim. right next to her. 
she’s exactly what she looks like on her instagram page. dainty and beautiful, picture-perfect elegant. her whole face looks like it could be hand-crafted by the gods (or very expensive surgeons according to the snide little voice in your brain) but her eyes are bone dry. 
that’s because she doesn’t belong here, your brain chimes in. not among your friends and your family. 
well, ex-family…
her name doesn’t immediately come to the forefront of your mind. all you know from that drunken night is how charli made you block all her socials at the end of it. as if you were going to go back to them again and again. as if you have no purpose in life other than obsessing over your ex’s new girl. 
she sighs, then looks out the window with a bored expression on her face and you have to focus your attention back to the bride and groom before you do something drastic. not before you catch matty looking at you from the corner of your eye, however. 
not just at you…he’s staring at the plunging neckline of your dress that shows off your cleavage wonderfully. with the big window to your side, it’s so clear to see every little detail of his face—his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip (he’s unaware that he’s doing it. you know that for a fact). his pupils that are blown out wide, making almost the entirety of his eyes look black; dark and hungry. 
your mouth curls into a smirk, arrogant enough to mirror his own. well, this is interesting. 
matty’s mouth presses into a thin line. even now, after you caught him so red-handed, he’s trying to deny it. but you don’t miss his ears turning the telltale shade of pink. 
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“...and i promise to love you for the rest of my life.” george’s voice breaks on the last word, the tears flowing freely but he smiles through all of it. in front of you, charli’s shoulders shake. they haven’t even put the rings on each other yet and they’re already emotional. it makes you laugh, and surprising, you feel the tears escaping your eyes.
i promise to love you for the rest of my life. that’s what matty had said too. i promise to dance in the kitchen with you and do all my silly little romantic gestures. i promise to never let you fall. i promise, i promise, i promise…
so many of them unkept, so many of them just pretty words spoken on a perfect day in front of a tearful audience. 
“i do!” charli squeals before the question is even finished, making everyone laugh. a wet chuckle escapes you at her infectious joy. 
“do you, george, take charli to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant asks. 
“i do,” he says patiently and charli sticks her tongue out at him. 
you sincerely hope they stay like this for the rest of their lives—polar opposites who complete each other. not people who are so similar, they don’t know how to exist in the same space anymore. 
matty smiles, first at the couple and then, shockingly, at you. husband and wife he mouths. 
jarringly still, you smile back. 
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i would love to hear what you think 🤭
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mossy-rainfrog · 1 year
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[ID: A digital illustration of many different characters and symbols from Star Wars Rebels season 2, surrounded and connected by designs from various Lothal cave paintings. 
From left to right, and top to bottom: A small snail from Atollon, peering out from its shell. Next, Ezra Bridger with his arms crossed, rolling his eyes as he says “I’m literally neurodivergent and a minor but ok ://“. A drawing of Ezra’s repainted imperial cadet helmet. Garazeb Orrelios, looking to the side with his teeth bared and his ear flicking up to listen, with an arrow pointing to his ears and saying “ears!!”. Ezra, with his saber ignited, grinning and looking over his shoulder as he runs, yelling “let’s go loth cats” in all caps.
The next section shows Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla kissing, with her hand tipping up his chin, and him blushing with many hearts floating around them. A brown spotted loth cat laying down in a loaf position, with one leg sticking out, captioned “leggy”. Sabine Wren takes her helmet off and scowls harshly, saying “cringe” in all caps. Hera sits in the cockpit of a fighter with a smile, captioned: “[screamo playing over cockpit radio]”.
The next section shows Sabine and Zeb lounging together, with peaceful smiles on their faces as they simultaneously daydream the words “violence murder killing arson biting”. Chopper stands in the center of the entire piece and extends one arm as he says “fuck!”. A Lothal cave painting with a Loth Wolf and a rider, staring to the side. The glowing meteorite stone is visible to the right.
The last section shows the fulcrum symbol glowing gray. Kanan and Ezra mimic the copycat meme from Into The Spider-Verse, with Kanan deep in thought, a hand on his chin, and Ezra watching him with wide eyes, a hand on his own chin. Ahsoka Tano is drawn buffer than her canon appearance, and has her lightsabers ignited as she reaches out her right hand to something unseen, her expression a deep scowl. Sabine, with her helmet on, jumping into the air with a basketball labeled “Ezra” as she dunks it into a net labeled “brother zone”. The piece is dated January 2023, and the artist’s signature is visible under one of the pieces.
The next three images are zoomed in on various sections of the piece. End ID.]
ok the ID for this is already long enough, but I've been rewatching the comfort show of All Time (SWR) and I ended up having so many silly art ideas that I put them all in one piece. I had an INCREDIBLE amount of fun with it, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did making it :D I miss my space family ;~;
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Dog details and translations below the cut!
Gráinne (graw-nyuh), the Disappointing Marsh-Wolf. Biggest, sweetest softie of a dog, she's a total pushover. Loves everyone she meets. Totally happy to just flop over wherever, including on top of you.
Fiadh (fee-a), the Haunted-Looking Dog. She's terrified of everything, including and especially cats. Usually found cowering behind either Caoimhe's or Gráinne's legs. Will NOT face her fears for a treat, and would, in fact, be offended at the implication there.
Caisearbhán (kah-SHAR-vawn), the Elongated Spindlewolf. Leggy, excitable, and wants nothing more than to launch herself at new people and give them a THOROUGH sniff. And lick. Extremely good motivated and has criminal tendencies (long nose directly into Caoimhe's bag. Yoink!!!) but is a genuinely friendly creature.
(and in case anyone's unsure, Caoimhe's name is pronounced KEE-va, since she's from northern Ireland!)
Caisearbhán translates to Dandelion, because they're both incredibly fluffy and are, somehow, everywhere you look.
Tar anuas means "come down"
Suigh síos means "sit down"
Tar liomsa means "come with me"
And then que linda means "how cute"
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A silly little comic for @neathyingenue of our gals!! I just really like drawing them being silly and happy tbh
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