#i love her

[aadiwrites]

nah just cuddling ain't enough, I want to merge my soul with hers

[vk20002]

I haven’t gone a day without thinking of you ever since our very first conversation

[danadelion]

🥰

[meganeina]

Hii so umm I'm back :3 here's Gangle fanart 🎭

[umberpinki]

F for freakin fabulous

[tiredandsapphic]

PINING, MATTHEWS?

pairing 𖦹 precrash!lottie matthews x fem!reader summary 𖦹 lottie finds herself oddly infatuated over the local record shop girl, the feelings mutual an 𖦹 wc 1.5k, oh medicated lottie, come home, the kids miss u

Who knew Wiskoyak would be cool enough to have a local record store. Thank gods it did, because it was probably one of the best jobs someone could have. Though if it wasn’t for your parents’ connection to the owner, you’d probably not have the job. But here you are, working part time in the perfectly dusty store.

Lottie didn't even know there was a record store so close, not until Van brought it up one day after practice. She practically forced the poor girl to visit claiming that there's more to the music world than just Mazzy Star and The Cranberries.

With her ego half bruised and a newfound curiosity, she searches for this so-called store with Van's shitty directions. She eventually finds it, tucked behind a local cafe and mechanic shop. 

When she enters, she's hit with the smell of incense and cigarettes, walls lined with posters. Faint record playing in the back, something she can't quite recognize, maybe Kate Bush? Her presence surrounded by the rows of cassettes and dusty vinyls, she almost doesn't notice you.

You're at the front counter, legs kicked up on a stool, chewing on a pen cap as you scribble in your notebook. You don't even look up.

Her so-called rich-girl aura doesn't exactly scream grunge record store— she suddenly feels very out of her element. But determined as Lottie is, with a pretty girl and a mission in front of her, she awkwardly approaches the counter.

Her footsteps draw your attention up, expecting some middle-aged guy looking for another Nirvana cassette. Your eyes widen slightly when your gaze travels up a figure in a letterman jacket, to deep brown eyes. Shit.

She smiles at you right away, her discomfort clearly on her face and now you feel the sudden need to make it all better. "Hey," is what you start with, mirroring a warm smile as you look up.

"Hi, I— uhh, to be honest, my friend kind of bullied me into coming here, and I have zero clue what I'm even looking for." She explains in a voice that makes you melt. She's sweet, but god she's fidgety, weirdly nervous. It's like watching a candied tragedy.

Laughing softly, you throw down your notebook, leaning forward on the counter to give her your undivided attention. Lottie's face is now feeling more warm.

"Oh yikes, I see," you raise your brows in a soft teasing way, "well I can help with that. What do you like?" And the question is so genuine, it's like you actually want to know, not just because it's your job.

She fumbles for a moment, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the smallest crease in her brow. It's adorable. 

"I think Mazzy Star and Fiona Apple— but I also really like The Cranberries before a game." The tall girl admits and you nod along, slightly smitten by her taste. And a wave of realization runs over you.

"A game? Oh wait shit, you play for the Yellowjackets." You exclaim and it takes her back a bit, then an embarrassed smile grows on her face. "I'm guessing that the friend that bullied you into coming here is Van?" 

Lottie laughs and nods, "Mhm, that's her. She speaks highly of this place— and you, apparently you're ‘the girl that knows her shit’. Honestly I didn't know it existed." She admits, her eyes on you the whole time. You just chuckle.

"Yeah, a lot of people say that. It's my little heaven, I really only got the job because I know the owner, and of course, know my shit." You admit and stand up, smoothing down your clothes as if you were trying to look presentable. "Also I can totally work off your taste, it's good." You smile and she flushes, you can't help but flush as well.

"I'll feel less like a lost cause, thanks." Her footsteps trail behind you as you walk towards one of the aisles. "I'm Lottie by the way." She adds, if not a little awkwardly.

You give her a smile and tell her your name, which makes the girl beam just a little more. Lottie eyes you as you flip through some shelves, admiring the determined look on your face.

You start to pull out some albums, making small comments, even little music facts. Lottie's knees suddenly feel so weak.

You stop yourself mid word vomit, painted nails gripping a The Cure vinyl. "Oh my god, I've been rambling for the past 10 minutes on music, I'm sorry, you must think I'm a dweeb." You laugh, your cheeks feeling hot.

"No—" she adds, maybe a touch too quick, "not at all," she laughs softly, "it's cute, please, I don't think I've learnt this much about music before than now." She says as if she wasn't looking at you instead of the vinyls the whole time.

You look at her as if she just proposed— your heart certainly feels like she did. 

"Okay, good, because I haven't even shown you half of it yet." You grin and she just nods, more than happy to watch your fingertips skim the vinyl spines as you talk.

You probably talk for way too long, but the lack of other customers and her personality becoming less nervous just makes something click. She makes small jokes that have you laughing, and your job just becomes much more worth it.

At one point she skims over, standing in front of a small section that's labelled 'staff picks'.

"Careful. That section's dangerous. You might leave with a personality." You say casually with a teasing look.

She just blinks at you then laughs, and you walk over. You grab a vinyl off the wall. "Actually, here, I think you'll really like this."

And you hold out an Alanis Morissette album. "If you don't like it, full refund." You say half jokingly, but you're too confident in your music match making skills. "Perfect before a game too."

Lottie's deep gaze flickers from you to the album for a few moments before she takes it, her fingers brushing yours. Your internal record player skips. 

"I'll take your word for it." She nods, clutching the album like it's holy.

It's not even then that Lottie goes to cash out, she still trails by as you show her more, even sharing your own favourite artists, which she locks in her mental diary.

You eventually walk over to the counter to ring her up, almost saddened to do so. You wanted her to stay longer, so did she. Though her short trip evolved into something much longer.

Lottie keeps glancing at you during checkout. She's got that flustered soft fidgeting, biting her lip, her fingers twitching by her wallet, clearly wanting to say something but chickening out. 

So, while she's distracted digging through her bag, you build up the courage to make a move— sorta. You grab a post-it note, scribbling your number and writing 'Call me if you want more dangerously good taste. Or a date. Whichever.' and tuck it into the sleeve of the album.

You look back up and slide her the album, taking her money, as if you hadn't just did the boldest thing you've ever had the courage to do.

"Thanks, for all this." She says as she grabs the vinyl off the counter.

You just nod, "any time, I know this was your first time here, and I really hope it's not your last." 

Lottie smiles, her internal circuit malfunctioning. "I'll have to make sure you're on shift then, next time." She says softly before whispering a soft goodbye.

Your heart thumps as you watch her leave, blinking like you've just had the rug pulled from underneath you. You immediately bend over the desk like you've been shot in the chest, your hands on your face. You don't know whether to throw up or celebrate.

Later that night, after a long shift haunted by thoughts of the tall athlete, you lie on your bed, sprawled out like a coming-of-age movie.

Then your landline rings, coming from your cluttered desk beside your bed.

Your heart stops, it could be anyone, but your chest knows.

"Hello?" You answer after the second ring, finger fidgeting with the twisted wire.

"Hey, it's— uh. Lottie. From earlier." Her voice is a little shakier on the line.

"Oh. Oh, hi." Suddenly the wire of your landline is very intriguing, acting as if you weren't the one who asked for this.

"So. I found something in my record sleeve." She says, open ended.

"Oh. Yeah. That." Total deer in headlights. "Was that okay?"

She laughs at your tone softly, "More than okay. I was wondering... if maybe I could take you up on the offer." 

"Which part?" You're nearly breathless.

She pauses, "Well, preferably both, but the mostly second part." 

"Good, I was mostly hoping for that part." And suddenly your world flipped, for the better. 

You clutch your pillow tighter, the idea of a date with her no longer just a dream, but now a promise.

[authentic-girl03]

BTS of the draft with azzi

[umberpinki]

Illi McMillin, but she actually did make it

[softqsdea]

Me and my baby🤍

Two Women Kissing in Nature (b. 1859)

— by Georges Rochegrosse

[sophierain22]

I’m I getting slim or fat

[mellohiizz]

mel i meant 2 say this in the response and i forgot but i actually think itis the cutest thing in the whole wide world when u draw ken with a ponytail she is soooo. cutes she is so cutes i love her bad @girlnadian

was holding this ask hostage just to have an excuse to draw her again... here's some more of your wife

[spacejunker]

the wife

[candydandyorsomething]

She went from •w• to OwO

She has grown up 🥺🫶✨ @eviltanguyan

[xxl4vend3rxx]

If you guys all behave well you might get more girlspero..

Or have her now I know y’all are rambunctious

[1ml3gits4mmy]

WISH GRANTED

Ive been waiting to draw her w Canines, chipped tooth, and arm hair for so long GRRR