Malcolm Bright he/him 34 / 5'7 / pansexual / son of notorious serial killer The Surgeon / NYPD Profiler Consultant Criminal Psychologist with the Major Crimes Unit / Former FBI Special Agent //Canon divergent based on Malcolm Bright from Fox's Prodigal Son. Indie roleplay blog. OC, multifandom, smut friendly. 18+ blog. NSFW 18+ dark themes. This is a sideblog I will follow back with icancorruptyou
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psa
Hello everyone, Sorry for the break, I went on holiday to Disneyworld Florida with my sister and had the absolute time of our lives. Came home and got the worst cold/flu thing and have just been trying to get through it. Starting to feel a little better, gonna make it through all my replies. Love you all take care
x For all my blogs @icancorruptyou @notyouraveragedickgrayson @thetroublewithhim @beautifulxboy @prodigalsonmalcolm
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Malcolm was not used to human touch. It almost felt alien to him even though he knew deep down his body needed it. It was hard not to think of himself like a poison, hard not to question why someone would want to be close to him, to dirty themselves with his troubles. There had come a point where Malcolm had decided to let it happen, if someone was to want to be near him he would let them but the guilt of not warning them was often painful, it was like watching someone drown and not moving to help. He saw it as selfish and maybe cruel. Holding Hyacinthe was like finding a wounded bird, they needed his help and there was no way that Malcolm could say no. After leaning over and pressing down the flush Malcolm settled back down to let them rest against Malcolm. He brushed back their hair and untangled an earing from the strands. "Your exhausted, dehydrated and shaking" Malcolm listed off just thinking out loud as he took their wrist to feel their post and measuring their pulse against his watch. "Do you think you can move?" he asked softly as he lifted their chin a little to look into their eyes. "Maybe we can get you to the bed so you can rest" he suggested. He could move the bindings Malcolm had to sleep in and then the bed might be more comfortable to sleep in. "You can have my bed as its closer to the bathroom" he whispered as he run his hand gently down her back.
His touch was kind, gentle, something she had not been used to for the most part of her life. She had been too used to violence and hatred to the point that being treated kindly was out of the ordinary. The gentle hand on her shoulder made her skin shiver, like this of a horse touched by the ever so light paws of a butterfly. But soon enough, when her clouded mind realized he was not here to hurt her, she relaxed visibly under his touch.
She shook her head. "I don't know," she groaned, once again shaken by a series of painful retching that left her feeling so weak she, strangely, found the strength to lean away from the toilet seat. Once she was not overwhelmed by the impossible smell, she felt immediately lighter. That was at least something. By instinct, she leaned against Malcolm and his gentle touch, before taking her fake lashes off.
Hyacinthe had not noticed anyone touching her drink, mostly because she was being extra careful about it and trusted the barman with her life. On top of that, she had not eaten anything. At all. When he confessed he was worried, all she could do was moan softly, buried in his arms at this point, completely unable to move except for the shivers that shook her from head to to. "Why?" she grunted. There was nothing to worry about, she thought. She was safe. He was keeping her safe.
"Can you..." Unable to find the right words, she gestured to the toilets for him to flush them. All she wanted at this point was to be able to brush her teeth and drink one or two bottles of water. However, she did not even find the strength to move her legs anymore. One of her hands was clinging weakly to Malcolm's shirt, as if to hold him back from going anywhere, while the other was simply resting between her thighs.
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That time I made my one and only fan video for Prodigal son
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Malcolm Bright he/him 34 / 5'7 / pansexual / son of notorious serial killer The Surgeon / NYPD Profiler Consultant Criminal Psychologist with the Major Crimes Unit / Former FBI Special Agent
//Canon divergent based on Malcolm Bright from Fox’s Prodigal Son. Indie roleplay blog. OC, multifandom, smut friendly. 18+ blog. NSFW 18+ dark themes.
(bio and rules below, to see the whole blog view on desktop)
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Malcolm had not been asleep, he was working on a case in the far end of the apartment. Hyacinthe had been staying with Malcolm for a while, helping them out while in a tight spot. If Malcolm was being honest with himself he hoped the arrangement would be a little more permanent. He had enjoyed the apartment not being so empty, he had enjoyed Hyacinthe's company and always marvelled at what they would be wearing to go do their shows. To watch someone so creative, so passionate and brave was like a light in his life he had never had before. Malcolm tried to give Hyacinthe privacy and had been meaning to talk to them about the idea of converting the upstairs into Hyacinthe's own space. He wasn't sure if it was too much, too forward and might scare them away. "It's fine" he spoke softly as he held her hair back and placed a hand on her shoulder. He couldn't leave them alone, not when she was suffering. "Your fine, try and breathe" he spoke as he bent down to rub her back. Nothing shocked him or grossed him out, especially with his line of work you needed a strong stomach. "No need to be sorry" Malcolm frowned as he sat down with her as he assessed the situation. "Okay, thank you for telling me" he kept his voice flat and careful not wanting to come across as judgmental. Even if she had taken something Malcolm was not one to judge, his diet was mostly pills to get him through the day. "Anything you ate, could someone have spiked your drink?" he fired off questions noticing how violently her body was shaking. He reached up to grab some makeup wipes and held her chin as he helped wipe under her eyes guessing the running makeup was making her eye sting. "I'm worried about you" he confessed as he gently wiped her face.
@prodigalsonmalcolm sent: [ kneel ] sender finds receiver sick in the bathroom ("tossing their cookies"), and kneels beside them, holding their hair back and cleaning their face
Hyacinthe had tried to be as quiet as possible when she came back at Malcolm's place. She still was not entirely at ease with living with him, mostly due to the fact that she felt like a burden to the man, but this night, she had had no choice but make herself at home. She did not even have time to think about getting out of drag. All she felt was a weird, burning sensation that whirled up from her stomach to her chest and throat. She barely had time to run to the bathroom, looking her heels on her way there, and to get on her knees in front of the toilets.
How long did she sit there, long legs stretched away, head leaned forward, throwing up and retching when there was nothing left in her stomach to expulse. She had gone from glamorous pale to sickeningly greenish white in no time. Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, her little black dress rolled up on her hips, while she desperately tried to keep her long blonde wig from falling in front of her.
It was only when fingers brushed hers to take a hold of their hair and hold them back, only when a gentle hand settled on her shoulder and a familiar face appeared in her field of vision that she realized she had not been as quiet as she hoped to be. "Malcolm," she whimpered, before throwing up again, her weakened body retching almost painfully. It lasted long, long seconds, leaving Hyacinthe panting and shaking from head to toe, beyond exhausted, and ashamed. She could not even bring herself to look at him. "I'm sorry..."
What a pathetic sight she gave him, she thought. The smell did not help keeping her calm either but there was nothing left to expel from her body and she was soon left panting, now and then shaken by intense gagging, heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to leave her body. "I didn't take anything... I promise..."
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PSA
Hello everyone.
Going forward on all my writing accounts @icancorruptyou @beautifulxboy @notyouraveragedickgrayson @prodigalsonmalcolm @thetroublewithhim I am coming back to writing daily but there will be a big change. I will be selective and slow at replies and will be replying to threads based on how much muse I have for them. Its really become apparent that with the discovery of my chronic illness (stage 4 Endometriosis) that I need to reshape my entire life. That also means conserving my energy or the things I love to do such as writing, art and reading. I want to make a life for myself where I am not constantly burnt out for living in dread at the thought of disappointing other people. Its not personal. If I had the energy and concentration I would love to write endlessly and reply super quickly to everyone. I hope you understand. - Mun Mandy
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Malcolm’s inability to sleep had become a helpful trait when it came to having Hyacinthe stay with him. The night-time was not a peaceful experience for them both. Malcolm had become accustomed to the sounds they would make, the twitches of their feet and hands, the groans and then finally spiralling into all-out panic. It felt cruel to keep waking them up just as they fell asleep. At one point Malcolm considered strapping them into his own restraints but figured that would be far too triggering and cause more problems than they were trying to solve. Instead, Malcolm let them have the bed as he spent a few hours in one of the comfortable chairs. He had dreamt of them, being able to hold them in his arms, rubbing big circles on their back as he kissed their forehead to soothe them in their trauma-laced sleep. Being in a basic state of survival was a feeling that Malcolm knew all too well. He knew that sure, a full night’s sleep, eating nutritional foods and taking care of themselves was the ideal goal but realistically it was about working with the basics. Any amount of rest, any food and any form of self-care would do. Getting the brightly coloured cake ball was pretty easy. The thought had come to him when he was looking through his own bare cupboards trying to find anything to offer. As he stood holding the cake ball out to the moving blanket that contained a human inside. “Last night you asked me to get the tissues from your bag and inside your bag was two cellophane wrappers licked clean. I noticed the roughness over the outside of the wrapper and i recognised it. The Miss Muffin bakery across the street from the club I met you at. I thought you must of come off of your late shifts and got a treat for yourself. The wrapping was too small for a cupcake but just big enough for a cake pop” he rambled catching himself at the end as he knew he was talking to much. “Or you know... I guessed” he smirked as he pulled out two more flavours from his pocket and placed them on the side table.
@prodigalsonmalcolm sent: [ snack ] sender brings receiver their favourite snack.
The set of greenish brown eyes are fixated on the television screen, watching without looking at them really the images broadcasted. It was a television show, at least they understood as much by the pre-recorded laughs they could hear despite a foggy mind. Last night had not been too good to them. Between a striking night terror and the panic attacks that ensued, leaving them a trembling mess, their shaking hands unable to hold even a glass of water, Hyacinthe had been left curled up on the couch, buried under soft and warm blankets, exhausted but refusing to sleep, shaking from head to toe, staring blankly at the screen.
When they heard the door lock open, they blinked briefly and turned to the door, hiding their hands under the folds of the blanket at the same time. A small, evanescent smile, appeared on their features at the sight of Malcolm. He had left only a few minutes before, simply telling them he would come back soon and left them alone at his place. They did not immediately notice what he was holding until he was sat next to them, holding out a pink sprinkled ball of cake wrapped up in cellophane under their eyes. At its sight, their stomach growled hungrily but their fingers grabbed it in a gentle way. "Oh, thank you..."
Slowly, they unwrapped the snack that always agreed with their stomach - and their mental. "How did you know?" they asked. Had they told him about it, about their food aversion? Was it just a happy coincidence? These snacks had always settled nicely with them, despite rarely being able to eat them.
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Malcolm took his time. Her words were incredibly spot on. Malcolm had a deep appreciation for people who had such finely tuned empathy, it was something he was paranoid about lacking. He nodded and took a sip of his drink as he looked down at the table and pressed his lips together as he breathed deeply through his nose. "That is exactly what it feels like" he smiled briefly as he looked up and nodded again with a gulp "no, your not crossing the line at all" Malcolm wondered if he did have any lines, sometimes other people's boundaries were invisible to him.
It was pleasant to hear about the strong bond between Natalie and her brother, it made him genuinely smile. "That's a wonderful thing to feel close to family, I bet you have some very special memories" he folded his napkin and nodded at the waitress who bought them their bill, without thinking Malcolm slipped in his card into the leather folder. "Midnight it is" Malcolm smoothed out his jacket as he pulled out his chair and stood up to leave "There is a cocktail bar just a few doors down" he suggested "its very calm" he mentioned without telling her it was members only and she would be his guest.
When Walls Come Down
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Hey all, just come back from my holiday in turkey, we had the best time! won’t be home until the 26th October. I’m looking forward to getting back on my laptop and doing some replies 😀😀
My other blogs
@thetroublewithhim
@prodigalsonmalcolm
@notyouraveragedickgrayson
Xx
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Family and friends had always said there was something different about their partner. They are a good partner, a wonderful parent and works hard. Sure they were brooding and mysterious but that’s part of their charm. It wasn’t until someone broke into their home, not just some kid looking for things to steal but a trained hitman. It wasn’t until they watched how brutally their partner took them down, not even a flinch. It wasn’t until they watched how they wiped blood from their own face while dragging the body across the carpet and passed the framed pictures of the family and life they had built together that they realised the person they married may not be the person they think they are. Shivering in shock and tears in their eyes they asked their partner where they were taking the body. They pulled the body through the kitchen towards the back door as they looked up at their lover without missing a beat and spoke words that changed their lives for ever “im going to bury it with the others”.
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Idk if I wanna continue writing here tbh. I don't have enough motivation. Or am I just lazy af.
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Other people didn't understand, they couldn't grasp it if they had not been through it themselves. Pure fear and terror filling every part of the body making every nerve in the body alert. The petrifying struggle of needing to run to survive but the body is frozen in place. Having no control over yourself is just a sick feeling but seeing something that was so very real, something that you can touch and it can touch you but being told it was all in their heads was just one more stab in the back. Malcolm didn't know if the come down was worse than the actual centre of the episode. Coming down felt like everything inside of you was drained. Being so far detached from the world and everything around them was dehumanising. Malcolm would usually feel embarrassed, ashamed and oh so very low. Many nights Malcolm had to pick himself off of the floor in the morning after a terrible night spent alone. Now he had Amy by his side he was able to stay safe, recover easier with her understanding and compassion. He just hoped he could be there for Amy in the ways she was there for him. "Okay, okay" he whispered as he helped her off of the floor and they made their way to the sofa. Malcolm grabbed the blankets and pillows and kept an eye on his partner from the other end of the apartment. Walking back he made sure to get comfortable as he didn't know how long he was going to be in her embrace in her time of need. Wrapping her in his arms he pulled her against his chest. Her hair was a little wild but Malcolm brushed it back from her face with his fingers. "I've got you" he whispered with a soft deep breath trying to slow his own heartbeat. He raised an eyebrow as she sat up a little and looked at him, a small smile came to his lips as he listened to her "i love you too, you are so precious to me" he muttered as he looked at her lovingly. He hated that she went through similar things that he did, nightmares, visions that haunted them but he felt lucky that he was able to be there for her.
prodigalsonmalcolm:
Malcolm could see that Amy was suffering. He never wanted her to feel this way but it was something they had to go through together. Malcolm will never forget the fear he felt and the heartbreak that caused his body to shake and his chest to ache when Amy talked about leaving. Slowly Amy was letting him in, allowing him to get closer until he was able to finally have her in his arms. Wrapping his arms around her, holding her waist close to him with his other hand on the back of her head he cradled her in his arms. Slowly he rocked them back and fourth in his arms to sooth her “its okay, its okay” he muttered into her ear as he closed his eyes for a minute as the world felt like it was beginning to stop spinning so fast. Malcolm could feel how weak Amy was in his arms and knew what that felt like, slowly he guided her to the floor so they could stay connected. Rubbing her back soothingly after a while he spoke “tell me how your feeling” he asked softly and cautiously “shall we try going back to bed?” he suggested as he lent back a little to look into her eyes “maybe we should get some matching leather straps for you” he spoke light-heartedly in a soft mumble.
Despite being completely at ease with Malcolm, there was this deep, prominent part of Amy that needed to stay in control of her emotions, to not let it all out. Her entire mind was set on stopping the tears, on burying it all back, deep inside. It was hard to acknowledge that all the trauma she had locked down for years and years was trying and slowly succeeding to break through. All she wanted was to live a somehow happy life with Malcolm and yet, here she was, ruining everything. Needless to say, it was even harder bringing herself to talk about it out loud. “Drowning,” she whispered breahtlessly. It was hard enough muttering this one single word, let alone a whole sentence of those.
Amy felt like drowning. Everything was just too much. She could have gravely hurt the man she loved, if not worse. On top of that, it was the first time her body reacted so violently to a night terror. Usually, she would simply be incapable to move, her eyes stuck on the faceless figure staring at her from afar, but this time, it had been different, and Amy did not particularly like different, especially not in this situation. At his suggestion, she shook her head violently, pushing on his chest like it was the bed she was trying to get away from. It took again all her energy to muster up a proper sentence as her nerves threatened to snap once more. “We can try the couch…” After what had happened, there was no way she would agree to go back to bed for the night.
She could not hold back the desperate laugh that left her quivering lips but also sent a few more tears rolling down her cheeks. With the help of Malcolm, she was slowly recovering. They both made their way to the couch with pillows and a light cover. She let him lie down first before joining him so she would be wrapped in his embrace. It was the way they supported each other in their own trauma, she thought, that made her feel so comfortable with him. Or at least it was part of the reason. But she knew she could say it like it was, raw and hard, and he would understand her. And so would she. “Malcolm,” she called finally after a few seconds of silence. Their eyes met in the dark.
Amy could finally understand how painful it must have been when his ex partner broke up with him after one of those night terrors. Had he done the same to her - as if he had been capable of that -, she would probably not have recovered from it. Without a word, she pressed herself into his chest and nuzzled her face in his neck, her body language enough to say how sorry she was he had to go through that before. “I love you…”
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Hey :) Could I request a Malcolm Bright x Female Reader smut fic please ? It's Malcolm and Reader First Time together. Oh, and of course they are very close to each other both on emotionally and intellectually. The first time they make love is slow and passionate. (Both are extremely touch and affection starved) 🥺 I hope this doesn't bother you. Feel free to change some things you don't like. Just have fun ! 😉
//Unfortunately I do not write fan fiction or x reader stories. Thanks for checking out my roleplay blog! If anyone else wants to pick up this promt then go for it :D
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Malcolm listened in the phone as he stared at one spot on his wall, taking in each breath and the how magical everyday words sounded coming from her. "That's understandable" he spoke softly as he nodded and then took in a deep breath. They were both on the line, sitting in comfortable silence as they both waited for the other to speak. Malcolm's heart thudded in his chest as he gulped back what he really wanted to say. A big smile stretched across his face as he heard her naturally seductive and witty voice. He still had to remain professional. "Of course" Malcolm spoke, his voice deep and sure about himself as he made plans in his head of what exactly he was going to do when he hung up the phone. "I will be here right away" he spoke light-heartedly "oh trust me, the best pancakes in town, fit for a queen like yourself" he commented as he got off his stool and pulled some clothes from his draws. "I will be there in half an hour" he told her as he looked at the watch on his wrist "I will urm... I will see you then" he added trying his best to say the right thing in the situation. It didn't take Malcolm long to get ready, he had slipped on a smart pair of trousers, a belt and a shirt without a tie, somehow in Malcolm's mind that was dressing casual. Slipping on his shoes he smoothed down his hair and pulled on his long black jacket. Pocketing a pair of gloves, his phone, wallet and a pack of benzos in case he needed to calm down. Closing his front door he was about to lock it before going back into his apartment he grabbed something he couldn't leave, breath mints. Now a part of him felt guilty, this felt like a date, this could not be a date due to professional boundaries but still... maybe this was a date. Driving through the night he placed the address in the computer of the car to get directions. She did not live very far, in fact it could have been walking distance in the day time. Parking up he took out his phone and phoned Amy "Hey, Im here, just outside the door" he mentioned wanting her to feel as secure as possible. For people who had been attacked even a short walk from the door to the car could be triggering. Malcolm wondered what Amy would be wearing, what she would choose to show Malcolm about herself.
prodigalsonmalcolm:
Walking with Amy through the studio and standing at the door with her, seeing her in the beauty of the daylight where a ray of sunshine picked up on the glitter of her cheek, Malcolm thought in that moment that Amy looked magical. She had such a strong and careful spirit. Malcolm had to admit to himself that he was fascinated with her. The idea that Amy could be going home to lay in a bed alone, that he might be scared or feel lonely made him want to protect her. His eyes focused on hers for a moment as she spoke “take care of yourself Amy” he smiled and nodded. As he walked away he turned back “oh and, call me anytime…” he held out his hands to his side with a shrug “I don’t sleep” he smirked. At least one of his biggest problems came with an advantage of being available at odd hours.
Amy watched him walk away and, when he turned around, had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling. Despite the horror of this case and of what was happening in her mind, he was still able to make her smile and that was something that was not given to anyone. “Cool. I don’t sleep either,” she replied, recovering her sass at the very last second. It was not until Malcolm was out of sight that Amy walked back into the venue.
It was way past three in the morning when she finally crashed into bed. Her clothes and wig were carefully stored back in her drag room. She had removed her makeup and was slowly scrolling on her phone, ready to fall asleep. And the thought of Malcolm came back. Almost automatically, her fingers flipped out of the Instagram app and reached for her contacts to find Malcolm. Before allowing herself to think about it twice, she dialed his number and pressed the phone to her ear. When he picked up, she felt her heart skip a beat. “Hey… You’re not sleeping.” Like you said. “Can we talk… now?” she asked. “Like, can we meet?”
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This was were Malcolm was most comfortable, all in with the difficult and intense conversation's. It was the type of subjects and issues that people liked to bring up over a long period of time, it would fear the other persons reactions to the point of losing sleep or avoiding the telling them or even getting close to anyone. The more time Malcolm spent with Natalie the more comfortable he felt. Natalie was living with trauma as well which made it easier for Malcolm to connect with her. Malcolm sat back in his chair and thought about his words before speaking. "Yes" he nodded "I am in touch with him, I would like to say that the reason I am still in touch with him is, I believe he has information on my cases. He connected with other very dangerous people and even if he did not know the suspect he has the ability to think like them. I also am not quiet about my theory that The surgent has more victims than we currently know about. I also... when he has no access to me his manipulation gets... intense" Malcolm admitted. Listening to Natalie's story he was sure to give her the attention and understanding she had shown him. Hearing how her father had died the day of her surgery Malcolm had a sympathetic expression as his heart ached for her. "That... that must have been so very painful, so confusing" Malcolm almost whispered. He nodded at the theory that with every good thing that happened a bad thing has to follow "oh it can feel like that" he smirked as he sipped his drink. Malcolm looked around them and saw how the restaurant was closing for the night. "Wow, its almost ten" he thought out loud. "Would you like to grab or drink or would you prefer for me to get you a cab or in fact my driver can take you home" Malcolm suggested as he offered all the gentlemanly options for her.
When Walls Come Down
#malcolm and natalie#natalie#mollysmythtymsyllom#so i have this book that I write replies in so i don't get distracted#and also i make artwork to go with it
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Unknown baby - Malcolm and Amy (Closed starter)
Months of investigation work, hundreds of late night coffees, stale doughnuts, head scratches, migraines, warrants and leads had lead to this. They were too late. Malcolm had tried resuscitation on the 29 year old woman they had been trying to save but her wounds were too deep to save her. All Malcolm could do was hold her hand as she took her few last breaths. Her last two words were "my baby" before she slipped away and Malcolm laid her down and closed her eyes. While the rest of the team moved into the house now that the killer was caught Malcolm couldn't stop thinking about her words. There was no intelligence on the files that there should be a baby in the house. Walking through the house the detective ignored the blood that covered his clothes and hands as he listened carefully until he traced the small gurgles to the closet in the bathroom. Malcolm's eyes grew wider as he looked at the small baby and leaned forward to pick the baby up. "Hey, your safe now" he spoke softly as he rocked the baby in his arms. "Oh, i want to take you home" the baby fit in his arms perfectly and seamed quite calm. "I'm sorry about your mom" Malcolm spoke as he looked into the babies eyes. Malcolm was walking home, alone, his head full of images of the crime scene, his hands still stained with blood that refused to come off. Some sort of shock made him shake a little as he got his phone out to make a call to his partner. "Hey, Amy, I need to talk to you. I'm okay. Just had a rough night... also I held a baby, his perfect. Anyway... when you can call me back. I love you" he spoke into the phone as he left a voice message.
@dragonsmadeofdiamonds
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Seeing your name pop up on my phone was a delight. I could write a whole novel on this gif with our babies ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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