#୨୧.. riri

[diarivie]

I made them into gifs..whoops 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

[wonryllis]

the jennie theme we love it 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

yes we love it riri tyyyy ^3^

[ruanais]

RUA OMG UR BACK HI IVE MISSED U SM LOVELY!! How are you doing!!<33

AAAHHH !! HELLO RIRI !! :D im doing just fine <3 what about you ??

[okwonyo]

✴︎ LET ME LOVE YOU.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀​ seven minutes in heaven with your ex boyfriend.

( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ୨୧ f .. r 1800 university au slight angst fluff exes to lovers getting back together ── flirting heavy make out skinship use of profanity ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

ˊᗜˋreblogs&feebacks。C𝑙𝑖CK

DED𝑖CATED to ✶ to my puppy riri @isoobie mwah 🎀

a good portion of your life decisions has to be rethinked. half of the said portion needs to be modified, or even, destroyed with your bare hands.

starting with the one that let you here in the first place; agreeing to go to your friend’s party. leading you to end up in the middle of young adults drenched in sweat added to the scent of pure alcohol and other substances, loud music buzzing all the way to your brain, the ground vibrating as bodies jump up and down along the beat. not that you are shaming anyone ─ it is not as if you weren’t on the dance floor as well. vibing to the music after one of your friends dragged you to it with her, you bumped into a few people you could recognize the face or name’s first letter of. some you knew way better but decided to ignore until you were ready to face.

without even realizing, the simple fact of letting yourself loose around your friends made you stay at the party, that you were originally planning on staying for one hour to, much longer. as all your favorite songs were playing on the speakers, you didn’t even notice most of the people leaving. then when you did, the couch was too comfortable to get up just yet and quickly a bunch of people gathered around you until forming a full circle with you in it.

the second decision you should have made was leaving as soon as you saw a guy that you can’t reckon the name or existence of finishing his bottle of beer eagerly before putting it flat on the center of all of you. not because seven minutes in heaven is a silly game, although it is, there is a more important reason you should have avoided being in this circle or this party as a whole.

now, the bottle landed on you, heeseung being the one who spinned it in the first place. you find yourself trapped in a ridiculous closet with your ex boyfriend. which you haven’t seen in the flesh since he left korea during a whole year. and no, not even when he came back three months ago.

(not because you resented him. most likely because you were too nervous to confront him about your relationship’s current situation.

everything was too complicated, acting as if he was your ex boyfriend made your heart lighter and slowly became a reality as the months passed by.)

you could practically hear the grin growing on his face as you walked into the small piece, you wanted to kill him when he opened the door for you.

arms crossing themselves under your chest, you watched heeseung close the door behind him. his grin being ten times bigger than when your eyes met in the circle, “so─”

he got cut off as soon as he started talking, “we are not,” you emphasize on the last word. “kissing”

he fakes a saddened sound and a little pout, it doesn’t last long, though. his beautiful smile is back on his lips when the thought that you saw right through him runs in his mind because of course, he was ready to for it. he steps in front of you, “why?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. his voice is deep and slowly goes into a whisper, “are you getting shy? we already did that plenty of times before.”

the sound of his voice solely makes you court-circuit. you can feel your whole face getting red at the memory of his hot mouth on yours, the way he sighs in your mouth after a long time being away, his tongue traveling inside of it, his hands all over your body like he wants to make sure every part of it is still there, you remember it well. your eyes shot back and forth between his lips and his eyes ─ panic quickly settingin.

heeseung seems to notice your state of mind because he tilts his head to the other side, his smile turns into a playful smirk and he cocks one of eyebrows. a hum leaves his chest and vibrates in his throat as his mouth is still closed, silently asking you for an answer.

you cringe when you finally make your heart beat normally again, “we─we are exes!”

instead of ‘we haven’t seen each other for more than a year’, because it would be too weird, this is the only excuse you can come up with.

“is that all?” he chuckles, he takes another step towards you. for a second; he seems hurts, you brush it off. you furrow your eyebrows deeper at his movements as well as at his question. your excuse should be enough, alas it seems like it isn’t, “are you going out with anyone else these days?”

his body was beginning to be too close to yours for you to keep eye contact. you huffed anyway, as if you weren’t too busy mourning your semi-failed relationship with him to fall for somebody else. his stares is insistent on you and you can’t help but drag your gaze anywhere but on him.

you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “no, i am not,” there is no reason, for why you didn’t just tell him it was none of his business, not one you can wrap your head around at least. maybe you are not so petty anymore or maybe you don’t want heeseung to think you are in a relationship.

heeseung head falls, looking at his shoes. he stayed silent for a worrying amount of seconds, so much that you looked up to his face just to see him fighting a smile from spreading all over his face. he nodded while fighting for what seemed to be his life, slowly going back to looking at you. his tongue poked his cheek, despite all his efforts, he was still smiling.

he steps closer to you again, now you have to tilt your head up to look at him, “good,” he affirmed with full confidence, like the way he carried himself in front of you, “you don’t need anyone else,” there rest of the sentence is unspoken but still written all over his pretty face: other than me.

these simple words make all your control over your mind vanish. all the thoughts in your head vanishes in a few seconds, getting quickly replaced by the sugarcoated words of the man in front of you, who keeps on coming impossibly closer to you. he slowly is cornering you between the small closet’s wall and himself — before you can touch it, you almost trip over your feet as you walk backwards, his strong hand hold your lower back to prevent you from falling. your hands hold onto his biceps, you can feel his skin under your palms, your fingertips sinking in the muscles beneath them.

your heart is racing so much that you can feel it in your feet, warmth floods through all your body and you feel embarrassed by the thought of how red your face must be at this exact moment.

“are you okay?” he asks you gently. and hell, you could make a mess of his mouth right now.

you only press your lips together and nod, letting out a weak sound of ‘mhm’. then you just stare at him for a while, your chest rises and falls, your breath is heavy, the tension is building and heeseung is very close from combusting, you know it. however, he doesn’t lean in just yet, he wants you to make it ─ he wants to make sure you want it.

he speaks up again but his words are barely registered by you, “the only reason you have been feeling alone is because i wasn’t there,” nodding your head, your gaze too focused on his biceps. “i have been feeling the same as well,” he whispers, your thumbs rub against his skin, your mind is empty. he tucks a hair strand behind your hair, “but i’m here now,” he assures. “hm?”

you nod, although you didn’t really listen. there is only one option left.

your hand goes up to his shoulder, brushing against his neck to the back of it before reaching his hair. you lean him down as you put yourself on your tiptoes, heeseung lets you do whatever you want.

softness closes over your mouth. as usual, heeseung sighs into it, as if he has been craving this for months, and maybe he did. you could feel your body getting weaker. his arms hugging your waist gently the same way yours hug his neck ─ you both pulled each other as close as you could. your mouth fell open and he gently licked into your mouth.

he kisses you softly, carefully and kindly. heeseung always kisses you like that when he has missed you. his hands grip into your shirt as if he doesn’t want to you go away from him, bringing you closer and closer as the kiss goes on, he wants to melt into you.

he pulls back quickly, feeling himself losing it, “i missed you so much,” he tells you. his breath brushes right against your mouth. you can only look at him, not knowing what to say, with your gorgeous eyes and flushed cheeks. he whines, “don’t look at me like that,” and his tongue goes back to working in your mouth.

he wants to devour you.

you mind completely clouds over when heeseung tilts his head to the side in hope to get better access to your mouth, and his wish is given to him in a silver plate. you let out a song you are too embarrassed about to not throw into the bin of your deepest and darkest memories. you release a shuddered breath against his mouth when his hand drags itself from your waist to your nape, sending you chills through it. heeseung’s hand on the back of your head made your lips press even more against his.

you don’t know how long heeseung kisses you breathless but suddenly he slowly leans back up, his grip on your waist getting tighter. you slowly gets lifted off the floor for a hug-kiss. the joy bubbles up in your chest, threatens to burst out off your chest, and heeseung has to stop the kiss because you are smiling too hard.

you hug him tightly, hiding your face in his shoulder while his lips travel on your neck, leaving kisses here and there while you giggle. you missed him so much.

for sure, you could stay like this forever and you would if it wasn’t for the loud banging against the door. the seven minutes are over, still heeseung kisses you ─ a few quick pecks before putting you back on the floor.

he stares at you for a moment, a curse gently leaves his mouth and weirdly because it’s him, it doesn’t sound so be, “you are so pretty.”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes. feeling so soft and flustered, suddenly even more shy than earlier.

heeseung dragged you out of the closet with his hand in yours. you put a lot of effort in avoiding eye contact with your friends, which happened to be the majority of the people present here. with an arm hugging your waist when you both reached the couch, heeseung made you both sit on it. his arm lay heavy on your shoulders while he swooped in to kiss you softly on the cheek.

everyone groans loudly. you are both so back.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open !

(..◜ᴗ◝..) thank u for reading ! ^^

[fairyygore]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。RiRi ୨୧

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[mattslolita]

bambis friends finally letting Chris see Bambi but there watching u 2 like a hawk and say “u got five minutes” 😭😭

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

chris was unavoidable — he called and texted you every day, almost filling up your voicemail box. you couldn't go to certain places without knowing for sure that he'd be there, and you weren't ready to see him. he hurt you really bad, and he needed to realize it. you'd always spoken so highly about the way he treated you, but you should've known you would never be anything more with him.

it's been two weeks — you would be lying if you said you weren't completely losing your mind having not seen chris. you were a wreck, not your usual bubbly, emotional self. of course, the crying had doubled and stayed consistent — you felt bad for your friends taking care of you in this time, but they didn't mind and insisted on helping you out.

"you won't believe who the fuck just asked to see y/n," niyah fumes, walking into your bedroom as she shook her head whilst staring down at her phone, "chris gon text me and ask to see you!"

you sniffled as you were cuddled into riri's side, scream playing on the laptop in front of you. if chris were here, he would've looked at you crazy since he knew that horror movies were your way of trying to cheer yourself up. the thought of chris made your chest tighten, as you realized — you really missed him.

"let him," you say in between sniffles, causing everyone's eyes to widen as they stare down at you.

"y/n, are you serious?" zay asks you seriously, her eyebrows knitted together, "are you sure it's a good idea?"

"maybe he has an explanation," you said, wiping at your eyes as you hiccup, "i deserve to hear it. it's not fair."

your friends all share a knowing look with each other, before niyah sighs and types away on her phone. "here's some tissues pookie, he's coming in six minutes."

—

the familiarity of your house brings chris a desperate comfort he'd been missing for the past two weeks — his hair was tousled messily, eye bags prominent under his eyes from lack of sleep. he'd been in a terrible state without you, and it was definitely showing. when he walks inside of your home, your friends are quick to stare the man down. his cheeks heat up with shame, fully expecting one of the girls to lunge at him.

"five fucking minutes," niyah hisses, her eyes boring into chris's with anger, nodding towards your room.

he gulps before walking past the group of girls who stare at him as he makes his way into your room. the door creaks open, and your head pops up from your bed quickly as your eyes land on chris — he looks tired and numb, and something inside of you breaks as you sniffle and sit up.

"hey, bambi," chris says hoarsely, voice barely above a whisper as he closes the door behind him.

"hi, chris," you say quietly, playing with the hem of your shorts as you stare up at him curiously.

he motions towards the end of your bed, and you nod as he sits down and lets a sigh escape his lips — you watch him fold his hands in lap, struggling to maintain the eye contact you insist on trying to keep with him. "dunno if you're gonna forgive me, but i jus' wan' tell you what happened."

you're silent, still eyeing him curiously — he takes this as an initiative to continue. "for some time now, you an' me have been together, but not together, if that makes sense. i will admit i was scared that i would fuck shit up, thas' why i haven't made any moves to make shit official with you. but i was finally ready to do things the right way."

you could feel your heart skip a beat at his words — chris wanted to make things official with you. it was all you'd ever wanted, but now you're conflicted, because you don't know if you could trust him. "that doesn't explain madilyn...why were you with her?"

the crack in your voice causes chris to run a hand along his jaw as he shakes his head. "i went to her for advice on how to ask you. i didn't realize she had a different motive, i swear."

suddenly anger beings to course through your veins upon the realization that madilyn had been after chris just to spite you — for whatever stupid reason, she had always been jealous of you, and you didn't know why. you should've known better that chris would go for someone else — still, you weary on anything to go further for you guys.

you slowly crawled over to chris, running your hands along his shoulders to his chest, as your lips hovered over his neck. you pressed a soft kiss there, inhaling his familiar cologne, "i really missed you, baby."

"i missed you too, ma," chris mumbles, his strong hands moving to place on you on his lap, causing a small giggle to escape your lips. he wipes away at a stray tear that leaves your eye, "can i make it up to you?"

[fangsforiris]

hello I love your blog I was wondering can you do a headcanon of the sakamaki brothers receiving chocolate on Valentine’s Day

╭── · · ୨୧ · · ──╮ Sakamaki’s Receiving Valentine's Day Chocolate HC’s ╰── · · ୨୧ · · ──╯

Word Count: 3201 Included Topics: General HC's, & Would He Give Chocolate to Someone?

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

General HC's

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

Shū (Ririe):

🍫  This would be a regular occurrence for him every single Valentine's Day. 

🍫  If there’s something this man is used to, it's being admired. 

🍫  In fact, every single year when Valentine’s Day comes around, his locker would be filled to the brim with chocolates and love letters. 

🍫  And every single year, he’d struggle with opening his locker. 

🍫  Shū’s even thought about skipping the day and ditching school altogether. 

🍫  Reiji usually forces him along with some of the other maids, secretly the maids find it funny for Shū’s reaction each year as the amount seemingly doubles. 

🍫  Once he finally used all his force to open the locker door, thousands of letters and chocolates flew out.

🍫  It was especially bad one year, during his first year of high school, where he needed the janitors to open his locker for him. 

🍫  They were shocked to be instantly flooded with love confessions and cute teddy bears. 

🍫  The entire hall was covered in all of these letters addressed to Shū. 

🍫  (Ririe, at the time, before he’d change his name.)

🍫  It was embarrassing to say the least, even more so when Shū is sitting, covered, almost drowning, in these letters. 

🍫  He’s definitely beloved, and Ayato always sees it as a competition between him and Shū to see who gets the most letters and chocolates– not to mention confessions. 

🍫  It’s Ayato’s unsaid thing that he keeps track of. Hell, he even has a whole tally chart and graph. The only time you’d see him pull out the whiteboard for math purposes is to win against Shū. 

🍫  But for every year that passes, he always loses. 

🍫  It’s gotten to the point where he gets upset about the day, and in response, Laito and Kanato are forced to cheer him up. 

🍫  Shū’s usually indifferent to receiving chocolate. He doesn’t have a set opinion on it, after all they’re the ones choosing to spend their money on him.

🍫  It’s canon that this boy isn’t that fond of sweet treats, so most likely he’d give all his chocolate to Kanato, or the current Prospective Bride at the time. 

🍫  Maybe if he’s a bit peckish, he’d have some himself.  

🍫  Everyone’s reactions to him coming home with a large sac of letters and chocolates would be annoying to deal with. 

🍫  Especially with Ayato and Reiji’s blatant jealousy. 

🍫  Shū would be nice about it, though. He’d appreciate the gesture, for all its worth. But would let them down as nicely as he could. 

🍫  If it’s becoming more of a hassle for him, though. Like he’s being harassed, expect him to be visibly annoyed. 

Reiji:

🍫  Reiji gets a medium amount of love letters and chocolates. Not as much as Shū, but enough. 

🍫  He doesn’t exactly care about this day, he finds it more of an annoyance if anything. 

🍫  Like we get it, you’re in love. Can we please get back to work? – Reiji, probably. 

🍫  He also isn’t the type to keep track, however he only will show some sort of care when it comes to competing against Shū. 

🍫  To his dismay, Shū never cares, yet receives the most. 

🍫  However, he is definitely a hopeless romantic, despite his annoyance. 

🍫  Like he’d bring that to the grave and then the next life. It’s his biggest downfall. 

🍫  When given chocolates, he’d try and show some sort of indifference, after all he does have a reputation to keep up. 

🍫  But inside he’d 1000% appreciate the gesture. It makes him feel good inside, especially to know that others enjoy his demeanour. 

🍫  Reiji gets enough criticism at home, so for people to be displaying their interest, despite him knowing that sometimes he can be a bit insufferable to be around, means a lot. 

🍫  Like you made his day. Not that anyone would know, though. 

🍫  He’d even inspect the chocolates at first before accepting them, after all, he can’t let his guard down. 

🍫  This, and the fact that it has to pass his ridiculously tough standards. 

🍫  He’ll look for the artisan, the craftsmanship, and the overall theme. 

🍫  Reiji’s like your worst critic. Even more so for himself.

🍫  If the chocolates do happen to meet his standards, then you’re in luck. 

🍫  He will graciously accept them with a polite “Thank You” and a small smile, though he’ll never admit to enjoying them too much. 

🍫  (He just for the life of him, cannot, let go of his walls.)

🍫  If the chocolates don’t meet his expectations, he’d maintain his composure but might subtly express his disappointment.

🍫  This can either be through a raised eyebrow or a slight frown. 

🍫  He is not shy at all or hesitant to offer pointers on how they could be better next time.

🍫  But regardless of how he may react in public, in private it’s a whole different story. 

🍫  Reiji would keep the chocolates neatly organized and stored away, perhaps even using them as a reward for himself during his study breaks or moments of relaxation.

🍫  This would be the small glimpses of vulnerability you get from Reiji as he savours them away from the world and in the confines of his private study. 

Laito:

🍫  Laito would have a few set admirers throughout the years. 

🍫  So having the small giggles behind corridors, and hush hush love confessions, along with letters and roses aren’t shocking. 

🍫  He’s one of the regulars, along with Ayato and Shuu, who get a lot of valentines. 

🍫  He takes interest in this holliday. Laito is one of the ones, along with Ayato, who enjoy it. 

🍫  In fact, he makes it a point to great himself to somethings during the day. 

🍫  Like dinner reservations, perhaps light flirting with a few girls, that sort of thing. 

🍫  Some Valentines Day’s, he would make dinner reservations with Kanato, and treat his younger brother. 

🍫  Secretly, he enjoys spending time with his brothers, even if he has his subconscious loathing. 

🍫  Laito would use the day as an excuse to permit him sleeping around. 

🍫  After all, isn’t that what the day is for? 

🍫  He’d probably lure some girl who’d confessed to him and then spend the night with her. 

🍫  Otherwise, he finds the chocolate and confessions endearing. 

🍫  To be in love, and love in general has always been a murky subject for him. 

🍫  Laito yearns to be able to love someone as pure heartedly as Ayato can. 

🍫  In fact, it’s canon that he loathes Ayato for being as pure as he was, and wishes he, too, was pure. 

🍫  But we all can’t get what we want, can we? 

🍫  So Laito sticks to his role, even more so accentuated on Valentines Day. It’s all a part of the act, and who else would he be if not a slave to his own design? 

🍫  Now, when Ayato complains about him losing again, you bet he’s one of his biggest supporters. 

🍫  He’d secretly leave a few letters in his locker the day before, have some chocolate planned out. The whole works.

🍫  Sometimes, he doesn’t know why he does it. After all, he has a standstill relationship with Ayato. 

🍫  Sure, they’re the closest of the brothers, but there’s that small lingering feeling of ‘why can’t it be me?’ 

🍫  (Take that how you want!!)

🍫  Overall, when receiving chocolates, he’d enjoy some, but most likely would loan them off to Kanato. 

🍫  Laito canonically likes macaroons, so sure he’d be fine with chocolates, but if you knew him well enough, you’d present macaroons to gain his affections. 

Kanato:

🍫  Kanato gets quite a lot of valentines.

🍫  Like he definitely gets more than Ayato or Laito. 

🍫  This is mainly because both the girls and guys fawn over his whole cute boy appeal.

🍫  And coupled with the fact that some think he’s a girl. 

🍫  It annoys him to no end to know that people still think and mistake him for one. However, if it happens to work in his favour, he’s alright with it. 

🍫  He loves sweets. And just anything in between.

🍫  He’s a whole fanatic. So it’s not as shocking to see him interested and overtly excited for Valentine's Day to arrive.

🍫  Kanato has it marked down on his calendar and everything. 

🍫  The day is even circled in red via. crayon all in a heart shape. 

🍫  This one loves it. 

🍫  Especially with the aesthetics people can use. He is a sucker for the outfits he could match up with. 

🍫  After all, he knows that’s what both the girls and boys like. 

🍫  And if Kanato caters to his audience, chances are his odds of winning become 100%. 

🍫  It’s canon that he’s quite manipulative in order to get what he wants, so take this as an example of that. 

🍫  In a sense, Kanato feels ‘entitled’ to getting chocolates on this day. 

🍫  Like if any of his brothers have any, he’d instantly pull out his cards and obtain them. 

🍫  He also likes when Ayato or Laito give away their candy to him. It makes the most sense in his mind, considering how he eats, breathes, and adores desserts and savoury treats to the fullest.

🍫  When a few boys come up to him, assuming he’s a girl, he actually plays along with it, to everyone’s surprise. 

🍫  Like once, some of Ayato’s teammates came up to him and gave a confession along with some chocolates. 

🍫  Ayato and Laito stood off to the side and watched as their brother was being flirted with and as he played along to their antics.

🍫  Once the boys left, they passed Ayato and Laito and thanked Ayato for being okay with them sharing their affections for their sister.

🍫  Ayato would go up to Kanato, Laito as support, and Kanato would just say “I wanted the chocolate.” 

🍫  In terms of accepting affections, Kanato wouldn’t care for it. 

🍫  Shockingly, he’s one of the biggest heartbreakers in the school.

🍫  And everyone has a set idea that they can be the one to change him. 

🍫  So for every Valentine’s Day that comes around, many more try their luck in hopes of being the one Kanato chooses. 

🍫  (Spoiler: They’re never chosen, and they go home defeated or in a state of array, not realizing that they’ve been tricked.) 

Ayato:

🍫  This man, believe me when I say it, is an IT boy. 

🍫  To his core, everyone loves him.

🍫  He’s like the modern day Ririe before he lost his drive. 

🍫  And Ayato really plays on that narrative. 

🍫  So when V-Day rolls around, you bet he has all the girls and some guys coming up to him with chocolates and notes to give their confessions.

🍫  To Ayato, it’s most definitely an ego booster.

🍫  After all, who doesn’t like him? 

🍫  Ayato cares about Valentines Day the most out of his siblings. 

🍫  Part of him likes the attention he gets from everyone, whilst the other subconsciously uses it as a setting mark for how likable and good of a person he is. 

🍫  That’s why he cares so much about how many letters, chocolates, and potential confessions he’s received. 

🍫  If he doesn’t see the results in pure tangible numbers, he bases his self-worth over it. 

🍫  So for every year he loses against Shū, he wonders if there’s something wrong with him.

🍫  All Ayato can think about is his mothers constant nagging on ‘beating Shū.’ 

🍫  If he can’t even beat him in a stupid popularity discourse, then what good is he?

🍫  Laito and Kanato take notice to this, and always keep a stack of Valentine’s Day notes with them to add to Ayato’s pile. 

🍫  Kanato will even go as far as to sharing his chocolates with Ayato. 

🍫  Whilst Laito will continue changing up his handwriting to write more notes in order to boost Ayato’s self-esteem.

🍫  And it’s a given that those 2 are the saviours for the day. 

🍫  You know that they’re going to be talking up Ayato, telling him how great of a brother he is, how cool and sick he looked during his basketball tournaments. 

🍫  You know, just the small stuff to keep the waters calm. 

🍫  He’d enjoying eating the chocolate, however not too much considering that he’s an athlete.

🍫  If he’s in a good mood, he’d share with Kanato. 

Subaru:

🍫  This one… well he’s anti-social. 

🍫  He doesn’t exactly care for Valentines Day, considering how he doesn’t really get that many valentines. (That he knows of.)

🍫  Subaru would be the most shocked out of everyone. 

🍫  It’s canon that he’s a loner, and oftentimes doesn’t hang around anyone. 

🍫  So most likely due to his reputation, and the potentially bad things people say about him (mainly said in passing from Ayato or Laito,) that he doesn’t have any friends. 

🍫  So for someone to give him something for Valentines Day? He’d be skeptical. 

🍫  Subaru definitely wouldn’t accept it. He would think it’s some sort of sick prank carried out from Ayato or Laito. 

🍫  He’d get embarrassed, fast. 

🍫  Like humiliating him, seriously? He’d deal with his brothers at a later date. 

🍫  This poor, sweet boy can’t comprehend the fact that he can be likeable, to anyone. 

🍫  This honestly makes him feel worse about himself than anything. 

🍫  And the poor person who offered the chocolate? Well lets just say his shock and instance scared them away. Perhaps for good. 

🍫  Say if he accepted it, his brothers would 100% tease him. 

🍫  He’s the youngest, so of course it’s normal. 

🍫  He’d get all flustered as well, like his face would go red, down to his neck, and faintly on his ears. 

🍫  Subaru definitely gets more valentines than you’d think. However since he’s always stuck over his head, he doesn’t realize it. 

🍫  A lot of people actually like him, however he keeps himself away from people due to his fear. 

🍫  Like the bad boy, shy and lonely appeal really shows with him. 

🍫  Once, some girl went up to Ayato and Laito in hopes of them giving Subaru her confession letter and box of chocolate. 

🍫  They genuinely thought it was for them, but to hear it was for Subaru, Ayato lost it.

🍫  After all, he isn’t some delivery boy!

🍫  The ride back home was awkward to say the least, with Subaru being teased by Laito and Ayato ranting about the treatment. 

🍫  Subaru definitely reads over some of the letters when he’s down, as they talk about his character. It makes him wonder if he’s so bad that he tries to convince himself to believe. 

🍫  For a moment, he thinks that he could be loveable. 

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Would He Give Chocolate To Someone?

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

Shū (Ririe):

🍫  Realistically, for his current self, not really. 

🍫  If he was really enamoured with someone, then he’d do the whole works. 

🍫  I like to think that his love language is gift-giving. Considering his abundance of wealth, he’d be a really great gift-giver. 

🍫  But if we’re asking his younger self? Of course, but in secret. 

🍫  Shū would take great pride in doing something nice for someone, so when ‘White Day’ comes around, if he likes them, they’re 100% getting spoiled. 

🍫  He really doesn’t seem like the type of person to care about this stuff, however due to his large abundance of money, it’s all in good nature for him to spend it. 

🍫  He has so much money either way, what’s he going to do if not spend it? 

Reiji:

🍫  Reiji, realistically, wouldn’t waste his time with that. 

🍫  He knows his worth, in a sense, and wouldn’t be entertaining someone he knows he isn’t interested in. 

🍫  Call that the ‘gentlemen’ in him. 

🍫  However, he would entertain it for a lover. Before forcing them to get back to work. 

🍫  Reiji doesn’t like to admit it, but he’s secretly a hopeless romantic. 

🍫  He really wants to spoil someone, and vice versa. 

🍫  Like he can be a bit of a romantic, even though he loathes emotions, he’d let his walls down for this. 

🍫  He’d even go as far as doing the most in hopes of competing against Shū. 

Laito:

🍫  Laito has many admirers. 

🍫  Most in the sense that he uses them for a quick fling.

🍫  So the chances of him actually having a favourite is unlikely. 

🍫  Thus, coming to the conclusion that he wouldn’t give anything for ‘White Day.’ 

🍫  He likes the current relationship he has with some of the people he messed around with, so why would he want to risk ruining it? 

🍫  Say if he did have a partner, then his natural romantic side would come out. 

🍫  But would it be superficial? You be the judge of that. 

Kanato:

🍫  Most likely not. 

🍫  Kanato, like Ayato, likes receiving more than giving. 

🍫  So chances are very slim with this one.

🍫  But if you catch him in a good mood, he’d offer for them to join him at a tea party.

🍫  So in a sense, sure? 

🍫  Honestly, he’s very selective, so if Kanato does get chocolates, he’d buy some of his favourites and call it a day. 

🍫  You better be grateful, though. After all, Kanato doesn’t just share his sweet treats with anybody. 

Ayato:

🍫  Ayato’s pride would not allow him to do such a thing. No way. 

🍫  He likes receiving goods, not giving. He’s more so take, not give. 

🍫  But on the off chance that he is really attracted to someone and values them, he’d consider getting a small chocolate bunny. 

🍫  Something small and sweet. 

🍫  (Shocking for him who likes to show off, but he becomes shy with this sort of stuff,) 

🍫  But make sure to really appreciate it, especially if he goes to brag about it to his brothers. 

Subaru:

🍫  Subaru gets very embarrassed, and very quickly too. 

🍫  The chances of him giving something in return isn’t as slim as many would think. 

🍫  If he really liked the person, and found himself comfortable around them, then he’d give some chocolate. 

🍫  I like to think that he can bake, very well at that. 

🍫  Like he’s the designated baker of the family, but he likes to keep his hobby as a secret. 

🍫  So imagine the cute bento boxes, and chocolate covered strawberries, along with cute cakes he’d make. 

🍫  Normally he has to hide it away from Kanato, and his other brothers in fear of being teased. But once he’s over that stage, his potential partner would enjoy his sweet treats. 

🍫  BONUS: Subaru would use the schools culinary kitchen to bake if he doesn’t want to risk being seen at home! 

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

That's All !!

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

Thank you for the ask, Anon!!

[peachesfather]

Gina's Diary ʚïɞ Masterlist

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Mizu ಇ

Doing way too much chapters:

Doing way too much - mizu x black fem! reader

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[pvnks0ul]

˗ˋˏ 𝐤𝐢𝐰𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

– 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐫𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧 ୨୧

── ⋆⋅𝐚𝐮'𝐬⋅⋆ ──

𝐑𝐖 – when I kissed the teacher (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – me & mrs. wolf (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – little one

── ⋆⋅𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬⋅⋆ ──

𝐑𝐖 – nsfw hcs (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – braiding riris hair

𝐑𝐖 – nerdy!riri x bimbo!reader(18+)

── ⋆⋅𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬⋅⋆ ──

𝐑𝐖 – mean!riri drabble (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – lend a helping hand (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – friction (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – downtime (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – encore (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – sweet seducing sighs w werewolf!riri (18+)

𝐑𝐖 – worth the wait w nerdy!riri (18+)

more coming soon...

[diarivie]

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[angelicbites]

♡ riri’s intro ♡

୨୧┇name: rina / riri

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♡ my favorite ... ♡

୨୧┇color: pink >_<

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୨୧┇birthday: december 13th !!

୨୧┇extra: i don't usually do nsfw but you may see once in a blue moon smth nsfwish !

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[brightlilith]

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Masterlist Tokio Hotel - Masterlist Connected by music • Tom Kaulitz Patreon

𝘿𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 27, 2022 — 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙔𝙤𝙧𝙠, 𝙉𝙔𝘾

..

𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭?

𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭...

𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐'𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.

"Pampacapam!" - understood her little arms and smiled. – I'm Riri, I do magic. I fulfill dreams and desires.

"What? do magic?" - I finally managed to say something, after cursing even the fifth generation of someone after that scare.

"I will explain, pay attention, better sit on the sofa, the floor looks uncomfortable." -Riri said, and as soon as she said it, I realized I was sitting on the floor looking like an idiot.

I got up and went to the sofa, I don't know how I didn't freak out and started screaming like crazy and Amelia hadn't come here yet.

I took a deep breath and nodded, indicating that Riri could speak.

𝘐'𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮.

𝘙𝘪𝘳𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘰.

"I traveled from the Magical World to here, to help you return with your true love. The universe is suffering with you apart." - Riri made a melodramatic voice. I laugh at that.

"And who would that unlucky person be?" - I said between laughs.

"Tom. Tom Kaulitz." - As soon as she uttered that name, my smile disappeared.

"Don't get involved in this!" - I exclaimed. "He and I are over, there is no more, and there is nothing in the world that can change that."

Even though I still love him, I can't force him to love me back, he's happy, with the person he's always loved since he was a teenager.

"There is, shut up." - Riri laughed. "Now that I'm here, don't worry about anything else." - Riri gave a sinister smile.

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

I wake up with a lot of headache, I look at the clock and see that it's 7 pm, I realize that I'm in my bed, the Mp3 along with my headset was on top of the dresser next to the bed close to my cell phone. I get up and immediately get dizzy and my vision is black, I stay still for a few seconds and my vision returns to normal and the dizziness passes.

I go to the bathroom taking my medicine bag, I take one for a headache and I leave the bathroom taking the empty glass on top of my desk and I head towards the kitchen.

The apartment was dark, Amelia must have gone home to pack her things, we'll be traveling tomorrow. I go to the kitchen, fill the glass with water and take the medicine.

I close my eyes and lean against the bench.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘮.

“The universe wants us together, what a joke." - I laugh at myself.

"Who are you talking with?" - I stopped laughing immediately, Riri's annoyingly melancholy voice echoed through the apartment.

I turned sharply and pointed at Riri.

"Are you real! I'm not dreaming?" - I asked myself, I put my hand on her face in a form of despair.

“Of course I'm real, why wouldn't I be?" - She asked, raising one of her eyebrows.

"I thought this was a dream."

As soon as I said that, I didn't notice Amelia behind Riri in pure shock and despair.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" - She screamed, reacting the same way I reacted when I saw Riri.

Riri shuddered and mumbled some incoherent things but you could hear brief parts cut off because some words she spoke too softly.

"... she wasn't supposed to see me... what the hell... they'll want me to go back to... shit... if she doesn't interfere and stop... all right"

Riri turned and smiled at Amelia who had a frying pan in her hands, totally desperate and alert in case Riri went upstairs.

" I'm Riri, I do magic. I fulfill dreams and desires." - She finally said, Amelia screamed and threw the frying pan towards Riri, almost hitting me.

" HEY, ALMOST HIT ME." - I shouted, and Amelia laughed without humor muttering a brief apology.

"All right, let's calm down, and I'll explain everything." Riri said

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

After that disastrous scene, we came into the room, Riri explained everything to Amelia and also said that Amelia couldn't tell anyone, which she readily agreed.

Amelia and I exchanged glances when Riri said that Tom and I should be together. Even though she knew the meaning, Amelia said that she would help if Riri also helped her with Georg.

Riri laughed and said that she would see what she could do about it, but that the focus would be on me and Tom.

Of course I felt strangely uncomfortable with all of this, it's not every day that a magical being appears saying that he will do everything to get me together with someone else.

"So, about this “agreement”, how is it?" - Amelia put finger quotes around the word agreement. She looked quite interested. I gave her a light slap.

"There is no agreement." - Riri said calmly. "We are certain that we will, for better or for worse!"

The doorbell rang, I knew exactly who it was, Amelia glanced at me as Riri looked at the door, I told Riri to disappear, hide, evaporate, whatever, while I went to open the door Amelia stayed on the couch watching tv.

"Hi darling" - The man with blond hair and bright smile said.

"Hi love" - I smile.

Tysm<3

English ins't my fist language. Constructive criticism and supportive messages are always welcome, it motivates me to keep writing. Sorry for the spelling and grammatical errors.

I'll post it first on Patreon and then I'll post it here! (I need money to live 😞)

(Not revised)

~

💗

© morganaah/brightlilith ─ all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other platforms.

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[eluxcastar]

I know there's an questionable amount of 13 with Arlecchino but. Can i have 13 sandrone? Please? Or 14? There's no food going on with that doll

Sandrone experiencing a crumb of love

── ୨୧：sandrone x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: sandrone questioning why her assistant has not left on account of her delightful personality

୨୧﹑genre :: slight fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, they're not in a relationship, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 1.4k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

sandrone is written like a bitter old man LMAO, but tbh, that's just the characterisation of her I prefer. some like her motherly, and Idk I just like her being a bit grouchy and wondering why these damn kids are on her lawn (slight joke), BUT I DID TRY TO GIVE HER A HEART so you can have that consolation

I hear your burning question "Riri what happened to the fourteen part" well you see the dreadful phenomenon we all know and hardly tolerate called "I can't read" struck again BUT I had an idea retrospectively so I will do that

prompt list

Sandrone is not the most personable woman. She is aware of that fact; she just doesn't care. Many people will come and go, but, dedicated entirely to her work, she finds that adapting herself for the comfort of others is an inconvenience.

You have always been her exception, a fatuu she kept around initially out of the necessity for a helping hand to hold the torch for her or aid in the testing of her creations. There is always something that needs doing, and with that workload, the demand for an extra set of hands arises to make a place for you. Assistant isn't quite the right word, her first inclination settling on lapdog and staying there as she took great pleasure in her cruelty towards you to see how long you would last under the thumb of her snappy and curt demeanour.

Evidently, you proved to be more resilient than she expected, and with time, her intentional tormenting died down to the bare bones of her attitude. Sandrone no longer requested you complete such dangerous tasks alone or begin spiels of the unnecessarily specific detailed demands she had of you. She relaxed into a state of simply accepting that, for a little while longer than the rest, you would be there to stay.

It's almost nice to hear sounds around her workshop, formerly filled only with mechanical dolls and spare parts she keeps. A person flitters about moving tools from her wall to her hand, living, breathing, capable of speaking with or without her prompting and all too inclined towards doing it. She listens to you as you work across the room—your footsteps, the humming whenever you start when you forget she's there, the clatter of gears, even the rubbing fabric of your clothes sometimes—and it's pleasant for the silence to be filled with life.

The thought almost confuses her, really, but she'll get over it.

What she may never get over is why. There are plenty of places you can go, a transient, run-of-the-mill worker she picked at random from a pile of names and didn't care to know anything about you beyond your capabilities until you showed up.

You remain steadfast by her side and don't show any signs of dissatisfaction, lost in your own little world some days. Maybe you cope with her by blocking out her presence. That would explain the humming and why you seem so happy to work here.

People always find something wrong. You have found nothing, and it makes her suspicious.

"Why are you here?" she asks one day, speaking out of the blue, out of character for her.

"I work here" is the response you offer, short as she usually is and with a bit of sass of your own that you picked up.

"I know." Slightly annoyed, she rephrased the question. "You could have transferred jobs before now."

"Paperwork's not worth the trouble," you joke, though she doesn't get that or doesn't find it funny, and her expression only sours at you. You throw your hands up in defence. "I kid, I kid! I don't have any reason to."

Sandrone knows what people say about her. She doesn't trust such a superficial reason, especially after your comment. "You're satisfied here?"

You shrug. "The work is easy, the conditions aren't gruelling. It's better than most places."

"I see," she says, falling silent. Her curiosity is mostly sated, save for some remaining questions she hasn't roused the courage to ask you yet.

"Should I be more unhappy?" you question, "You stopped making workplace hazards, and it's not unbearably cold in here. It's not like you're that difficult anymore."

She presses her lips to a lip line, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth. "You speak too carelessly."

You only offer her a smile and an unbothered "I know."

"I should reprimand you," she adds. Her hand absently finds a pleat in her skirt and toys with it, fingers running over the fabric as a background to the conversation. She considers what to say if you're so flippant with her again. Perhaps you think she'll go soft on you if you act friendlier towards her. She lifts her head with another thought. "If you have an ulterior motive, speak."

From the corner of her eye she sees you turn to glance at her for only a second before your focus is back on the tools you stand arranging for her. You always put them away just as she likes them.

"Is it a crime to just like you?" you retaliate with something unexpected, something gentle.

Sandrone opens her mouth to speak, bitter words on the tip of her tongue that die the moment she gains a hint of a conscience against ruining it. Nobody likes her. Sandrone is disagreeable, has a terrible personality, is snappy and disdainful, and is downright rude at times. People don't simply like her.

"People believe I'm terrible." She settles on a half-hearted grumble as she turns away. There's nothing more to be said, really.

"That's ridiculous." You say it too quickly for her liking.

She glares back at you like sharpened daggers looming inches from your back, though she's across the room and would have a hard time getting to you so quickly. "You're lying," she spits.

"A little," you admit, trying to ease the damage, "I don't think you're completely terrible."

She can't keep the frown from her face this time. "But I am still terrible."

"To an extent," you admit, cautious, but not nearly enough. "You have good qualities as well. It's not enough to just say you're terrible." 

Seconds pass in silence, awkward on one side and impatient on the other as you shift your weight between your feet. Sandrone merely stares ahead, clearly having no intention of speaking and every intention of watching you squirm for as long as she can prolong it.

"What? You wanted me to be honest."

"You're reprehensible," she mutters. Her hands ball to fists in her lap and then relax again as she lets out an irritated huff. It's not worth working herself up over something she has heard many times before, a fact she has long accepted.

You sigh, a strangely upsetting sound. She doesn't like it, she knows that much. It's not the kind of sound you make when you're happy, and she'd much rather hear you hum your little songs across the room. "Don't end up a self-fulfilling prophecy." 

"I'm doing no such thing," she says, sending another sharp glare your way to accompany her retort.

You crack a lopsided smile at her. It's a ridiculous face you're making, really, and in response to a perfectly reasonable statement. "Aren't you?" you question.

…Perhaps she might be. Perhaps a part of her does search for abhorrence. There's no greater reason to suspect you secretly despise her than her own belief—paranoia, one might even say—but to expect anything else is setting herself up for stark disappointment.

"Do you mean it?" she says quietly, eyes more focused on the fabric between her fingers to stave off the nervousness she's strangely riddled by.

You're nobody. Your opinion means nothing to her; it never should, never has and never will. You can lament all you like and--

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met."

She pauses, hand stilling in place, skirt pinched between her unmoving fingers. Her head tilts up, and she twists in her chair to meet the back of your head in a one-sided staring contest. At the first sign of you turning to her, Sandrone turns away, determined to hide whatever face she makes to gawk at you.

You are not real, fake, an imposter. She made a doll to curb her loneliness and programmed it to speak. You must be. You must be saying what she wants to hear. It is not new for lowly grunts to fear Harbingers to the point of reverence, though you have never shown signs of false flattery in your time with her.

Yet all of that is a lie; you are not another lifeless creation that operates on a mechanical heart. Perhaps you have simply gone mad in your time with Sandrone, or she has. Madness might suit her a little more than you.

"You jest," she manages to say after a long stretch of silence, browns furrowing to hide her shock at the sentiment, though you can't see her face. "I should cut out your tongue."