#⊰ NOBULLY » come get that honey sweeter than i ever knew / love me till my lips turn blue. ⊱

[nicawlette]

i gotchu fam wangyico

SEND NAMES OR SHIPS FOR TEXT POSTS THAT REMIND ME OF THEM » ACCEPTING

[nicawlette]

Sorry bab 😔 nicolette & Wang Yi

SEND NAMES OR SHIPS FOR TEXT POSTS THAT REMIND ME OF THEM » ACCEPTING

[nicawlette]

Happy Birthday, @nobully Teehee

April 1st, a day that most spent playing practical jokes and causing trouble, Nicolette chooses to spend another way entirely.

In the privacy of her bedroom, she brushes through long, silky strands of hair; taking extra care in added curls and intricate braids, mauvine tresses arrange themselves into a complex, eye-catching style, a pink bow clipping shining locks at the back of her head.

Fluffy brushes apply blush to fair cheeks and full lips, painted petal pink, pull into a barely-there smile as soft brown lines and colored powder frame two-tone eyes. Sitting before a mahogany vanity, Nicolette admires her reflection in the mirror, fine features complimented by soft, pink shades.

While not the usual style of sensual reds and sharp black liner, Nicolette appears satisfied by the end result. After all, she wants to look cute today.

She dresses without any particular rush. Smooth fabric spills across her skin in pretty pink shades, the chiffon skirt light and flouncy where it reaches mid-calf. Wandering hands drag over its semi-structured bodice, where the v-shaped neckline and off-shoulder sleeves allow prominent collarbones to breathe. Dainty strings of pearls are then fastened around her pale neck: one set a comfortable choker, the other nestling just above the slope of her breasts, while more delicate pearls dangle from a wrist and hang from each ear.

A pair of mary janes call to her from the closet, slipping on like a pair of gloves— snow white like the fur collar of the red jacket she rests around her shoulders. The one she stole and never gave back. Its twin exists somewhere else outside the city. She wonders if it's being shown the same love, the same dedicated use.

Looking towards the floor-length mirror beside her door, Nicolette smiles back at her deceptively soft appearance. Pretty and sweet. Would he blush? Would his heart race? Would he think her cute-- the only one who'd ever called her such and seemed to sincerely believe it? The idea is enough to make butterflies flutter in her stomach, though they quickly squirm and die along with the fierce ache in her chest when she remembers: a daydream is just a daydream.

Shaking her head as if to will away the bitter thoughts, scarred fingers reach out to pluck a pair of pilot sunglasses from a shelf, baby pink and recently repaired. As they slide into place atop her head, she recalls the exact pattern of the crack in the left lens. Gone, as if it had never even existed.

When she steps outside, there's only a brief pause ( a deep breath, a slight hesitation ), before she's on her way. Nicolette walks with a confident determination— a set path in mind she has no plan of straying from. From a cozy coffee shop in Golden Ward she orders a single pastry and from a local convenience store, a candle. One taxi ride later, she stands before the Boardwalk, and turns away to wander towards the beach on foot.

By the time Nicolette reaches the spot, the sun hangs low in the sky, casting the familiar scene is golden light. This part of the shore is devoid of inhabitance, too far from the attractions and more secluded. It looks the same as she remembers, and it settles something in her gut to find it empty.

Gazing upon the sparkling water that seems to extend forever, Nicolette slips off both shoes and steps barefoot into the warm sand. About halfway down the shore, she stops and sinks to both knees. Pink chiffon pools around her lone form, a solitary flower. She gets to work, tearing the sticker logo from the pastry box and removes the lid. Pulling it from the container, she sets it upon her lap and inserts the stripped birthday candle into a layer of white icing. It's silent, save for the quiet ❛ flick, flick ❜ of a lighter, and then her forlorn expression is illuminated by the soft glow of a flame.

Nicolette holds the slice of red velvet cake in both hands, lifting it toward her face. The artificial red of each layer makes her grin— she figures he'd appreciate the implication. Red, like blood. Red, like her longing heart. It's lonely on this day, without him. The second birthday they could not celebrate together, but this time, the enemy is distance, rather than forgotten memories.

❝ Wang Yi... ❞ His name is spoken as a whisper, wistful, but entirely precious. ❝ I'm sorry I couldn't give you this in person. ❞ Because he was gone. She had lost him, as he warned might happen, and yet she could not blame him.

❝ Happy Birthday, Wang Yi... try and celebrate the next one with me, yeah? ❞ There's more she wants to say— so much more— and yet the words do not come. She cannot speak them, not when her heart clings to the chance that she might one day tell him everything in person. Until then, Nicolette will swallow them all.

Because he had lost her, first.

Although her life goes on without him here, she misses him. Terribly. She does not regret giving him that which remains lost. I'd rather have you, than not at all. ❜— she had promised to never mourn the decision. Those pieces of her guarded heart will not return, and there's little she can do but accept it. That was their agreement; although it does not make the absence hurt any less, she wouldn't have made a different choice. It was always going to hurt, regardless.

They say the heart can only grow fonder.

With the sun dipping at the endless horizon, Nicolette closes her eyes and makes a silent wish, blowing out the candle. Whether a smile sits upon her lips or tears wet her cheeks, the absence of light makes it impossible to tell.

[nicawlette]

WELL WELL WELL if it isn't THE SQUAD!! Nicolette and her favorites boys, her scrimblos!!

Artist @ Hndsm_Kakigori Come get y'all soup @nobully , @schleckermaul and @archaictold !!

[nicawlette]

Hiiiiii~!!! Of course I had to steal this idea because it was too perfect to pass up. Here's some incorrect quotes/text posts featuring the squad. I went insane so they're under the cut.

Featuring @nobully , @archaictold and @schleckermaul

[nicawlette]

👀 do you ever think what life would be like if you were just growing up normally?

👀 + HONEST ANSWERS

There's a long stretch of silence following the question and her hand falters in its gentle petting for just a moment before resuming. Despite her clear hesitance, Wang Yi must be able to tell that he hasn't overstepped when she continues to brush through his hair. Nicolette fights back against the instinct to retreat and close herself off, letting out a soft sigh as her eyes peer down at the side profile of the head in her lap.

After everything he'd done for her that evening, she insisted on doing something in return. It feels terribly lacking as a means to express her gratitude, but he looks relaxed and so she doesn't press. The weight on her thighs is comforting. It grounds her enough to finally answer.

❝ Yes... and no. ❞ He makes a soft, curious sound in response that says ❛ yeah, I get it, but also keep going ❜. Her responding smile is tired, but sincere ( and perhaps fond ). ❝ I used to imagine all the time what it'd be like to... have not lived through the things I did. I'd feel jealous of people with normal families and wonder how different I'd be now if I had one, too. ❞

❝ But... I gave up on that a long time ago. I— ❞ Nicolette falters, her voice wavering until it drops into a low, quiet murmur. ❝ I can't even fathom it... being normal. It's like wondering if I could turn into a completely different person. ❞ And that's really what it would be at its core. She is who she is before of the battles survived. She is ugly and twisted because of the pain. There is no way to remove those scars, even if they heal.

❝ It'd be like picking up a handful of broken glass and trying to picture what shape it could've made... a disappointing waste of time. ❞

[nicawlette]

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING ( old as fuck )

@nobully asked: 😙 yeah sure when pigs fly

( yeah... lmao... no way, right?? )

😙 for my muse’s reaction to yours being super affectionate.

The first one goes down with a single punch and it'd almost be embarrassing if she hadn't made sure to strike hard enough the first time. The second manages to get a lucky hit in, fist grazing her chin before Nicolette turns out of the way and kicks a leg out, heel slamming into his jaw. Once he hits the ground, neither of them make any move to get up.

❝ Oooi, is that really it? ❞ She scoffs, stepping close before squatting down beside a head. She leans over his face, inspecting the broken nose gushing blood down grimacing mouth. It's at that moment that the man on the ground coughs, sputtering around the fluid and effectively spewing it into her face. ❝ What the Hell?! ❞ She shrieks, standing up quickly and backing away as scarred hands scrub at her eyes. ❝ That is so fucking gross! Ew! EW!! ❞ It's not the first time she's been covered in blood, but she's usually more prepared for it. Being coughed on is so not cool or sexy!

It must be obvious that she's about to start throwing a fit, because Wang Yi decides to move closer from where he'd been watching, invading her space. Bemoaning ceases as he takes hold of her face, wonderfully tender in the way his palms cradle both cheeks. ❝ Wangyyy, ❞ The familiar pet name spoken with a pitiful whine as Nicolette relaxes into the touch, ❝ get it off— hurry, please! It tastes gross! ❞ Lips are practically dyed crimson, stained by a drop dipping past cupid's bow.

❝ Yeah yeah, I'm working on it. Be good and sit still, I'll handle it. ❞ It sounds like a scold, but the corners of Wang Yi's mouth curl up with something like fondness, or perhaps amusement, as his eyes grow dark with interest. He's always liked the sight of her dressed in blood.

Two-tone hues are both pleading and intense boring into his own before she obediently closes them. He runs his thumbs gently through long lashes and over flushed cheekbones, smearing the evidence across her fair skin. She feels one brush slowly over delicate cupid's bow and seam of her lips, and they part slightly as if on command. When her eyes flutter open, Nicolette finds— to her immense satisfaction— that Wang Yi's attention seems to be directed elsewhere. The pad of his thumb rests at the corner of her mouth as it upturns into a smile, and surely he feels the movement, just as he can see it happening.

❝ What are you looking at so hard? ❞ She asks, voice quiet in the space between them while Wang Yi tracks plush lips forming around the words. The silence might as well be an answer. The smile grows, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners— a telltale sign of its sincerity. ❝ Am I pretty, Yiyi? ❞

His instinctual response has him arching a brow, eyes rolling at her fishing. ❝ Obviously, ❞ he answers, but then Wang Yi looks at her— really looks, and seems enraptured all over again. ❝ You look beautiful like this... ❞ A compliment she's used to hearing, but spoken without a hint of irony from one whose sole focus she always aims to capture— Nicolette can't help the way heart jumps and blush darkens, crawling towards her ears.

❝ Like what? ❞ And it's accompanied by the hint of laughter. A barely there giggle, like an exhale. ❝ Covered in blood or smiling? ❞

❝ Both. ❞ He doesn't even have to think about it, but his cheeks grow warm with his overt honesty, anyway. He traces over her bottom lip, reveling in the plush softness as he drags it down slightly. ❝ And, yes, all the time, too— before you ask. ❞ Because he knows her well enough to guess exactly what she's thinking when her lips part wider to speak.

Nicolette preens, shortening the distance as she leans in a little closer, peering up at him with imploring eyes. ❝ You're supposed to be helping me wipe it off, remember? ❞ It lacks all displeasure, and Nicolette contradicts her own suggestion by allowing pink tongue to dart out and lick the pad of his thumb clean. ❝ It still tastes bad, ❞ a complaint, ❝ won't you give me something else to taste, Wang Yi~? ❞ And an invitation.

Wang Yi hardly appears put off by the idea. ❝ Oh yeah? And how do you suggest I do that? ❞ He returns her teasing without missing a beat, digging thumb further into the curled corner of her mouth. His other hand prods at the bruise on her chin before tucking a strand of violet hair behind an ear. Her responding pout only encourages him, and he eliminates the distance between them just enough to press his lips to the tip of her nose.

There's a fluttering in her stomach as Nicolette releases a soft sigh, drowning in the warm affection that still feels new and addicting every time it's exchanged. It leaves her unsteady and high, spoiled enough to always seek out more. ❝ Come on... that's the wrong spot. ❞ With a murmur she tilts her head up, breath ghosting over his face with each word as they share the same air. ❝ If I'm gonna taste blood, I'd rather it be yours, anyway. ❞

The sentiment is shared, but it pleases him all the same. Wang Yi uses his sleeve to finish the job, hands falling way from her face only once he's satisfied. One slides to the bare expanse of her nape while the other fits into the curve of Nicolette's waist. ❝ There— perfect, good as new. Would've been quicker if you were patient. ❞ They both know he's full of shit.

She giggles when Wang Yi bends slightly to brush the curve of his nose and lips against her temple to her hairline, head tilting to match his movements while she grabs for him: scarred fingers wrapping around a wrist and arm encircling his neck. ❝ Stop being mean to me, ❞ says a voice wavering with giddiness. ❝ Heartless man. ❞

❝ So spoiled. ❞ Chastises her cruel lover at the same time he gifts an open-mouthed kiss to blooming bruise. But he must be feeling impatient too, because Wang Yi submits to her insistent tugs closer and finally wipes the grin off her face, replacing every taste with that of his own.

[nicawlette]

👀 + ideal date....night?

HONEST ANSWERS

❝ Ohhhh— ❞ Lips form an 'o' as eyes light up with interest. Of course the ❛ with me ❜ is already implied, though it's unnecessary seeing as he is the first and only face that comes to mind. ❝ Okay, okay— I know this one, ❞ she insists, ❝ gimmie a sec. ❞ Chin nestles in the 'v' between thumb and index fingers as brows knit and lips pout into an expression mimicking very serious thought.

Nicolette has been on her fair share of dates with flings, but a committed relationship is new territory. Feelings like this are still unfamiliar and ever expanding, big enough to press painfully against the cage of her ribs as if trying to burst out. She wonders if it'll always be like this— doesn't hate the idea like she thought she would in the past.

It makes her feel whole. Full, rather than empty.

❝ Obviously we have to get dressed up, not up for debate! I have to look so good you think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen or I'll die. ❞ Dramatic as always, but spoken with the utmost sincerity. ❝ And when you're all handsome and cool it makes me weak in the knees! ❞ Not that he lacks the ability to elicit a reaction no matter how he looks.

Perhaps that too, is a side effect of these too-big feelings.

Stroking her chin, a soft hum reverberates within her chest. ❝ And then... ❞ Well, this is where she's begun to feel conflicted. Social butterfly that she is, Nicolette has always been drawn to flashy things: a tightly packed club filled with gyrating bodies, high-end restaurants she didn't have to pay for that encourage pointless peacock-ing, even something illegal, but thrilling! Yet, when Nicolette spends time with Wang Yi, lately it seems that even the exciting fails to capture her attention the way he does.

❝ Oh! We could go to an arcade, or one of those carnivals where all the rides are definitely unsafe and have taken a few lives in their decades of use. And you compete with me in some of the games and be impressed when I win. Oh... but you have to win most of them so I can be wooed and get me all the cute prizes. I want to win a fish! ❞

The mental imagery is unfurling as she speaks, cheeks flushing as she pictures Wang Yi with an armful of plush animals he picked out just for her. ❝ We'd eat all the bad shit at the stalls and risk our lives on the flimsy rides. Wait— but I want you to make me dinner too... so then I guess we'd have to go back to your place after that and I could distract you the entire time you're cooking— not too much though because I'll be hungry. There would be lots of kissing, and then after we eat dinner, we can have dessert. Heh. ❞ Maybe she's giving this too much thought... suddenly, Nicolette feels a little embarrassed getting so into it. Does this makes her sound childish and too easy to please?

❝ Um... w-wait... give me more time, I'll think of something expensive and crazy, instead! ❞

[nicawlette]

UNPROMPTED VALENTINE'S ASK » @nobully

Valentine’s is all about chocolate, right? So rather than stressing himself out over making sweets or baking cookies, Wang Yi uses his brain and does something that takes half the effort but still looks pretty damn impressive.

And so, precisely on the morning of Valentine’s Day, he drops off a plain cardboard box in front of Nicolette’s door. In its base sits two ice packs and on top of that rests a big chilled basket of…beautiful chocolate-covered strawberries. He’s even added a white-chocolate drizzle to them here and there so it looks more, uh, store-brought, mostly because Nicolette will never shut up about it if she finds out he hand-dipped every single one, ugh.

The note he attaches to it is even simpler, written in small, neat handwriting on plain white paper. Nothing romantic about it:

So anyways, today’s that day. Enjoy. Don’t eat it all in one sitting because you’re not getting any more. — W.Y.

When she opens the door that morning to find a nondescript box, Nicolette almost wonders if this will be like the start of many crime movies. She lugs it inside regardless, far too curious to let the potential horrors deter her, and only grows more interested when she feels a slight chill permeating through the bottom of the cardboard. Once it’s placed on the table, she expects to open it and find a severed finger, or perhaps a limb, along with a ransom note inside. Instead, she’s pleasantly surprised by the aroma of chocolate that spills from the top as soon as the flaps are lifted.

Nicolette quickly frees the basket and kicks the useless box aside, ignoring the harsh clatter of the ice packs against the floor as she admires the contents. The chocolate covered strawberries are gorgeous and perfect— near perfect, actually. There’s a note, too. She’s already shoving a piece of fruit in her mouth as she begins to read, but finds herself nearly choking. It’s a short, simple thing, but it makes her throat feel strangely dry and clogged up as she swallows painfully, body moving as if in a haze to sit down on a chair. Scarred fingers fiddle with the white cardstock mindlessly as two-tone hues appraise the gift with new set of emotions.

Gone is the vague curiosity, replaced by something heavier and more confusing.

Anyone else might miss it, unlikely to be overly critical of a present, but she’s more observant than most would give her credit for. Looking closer, Nicolette can tell from the presentation alone that they aren’t store-bought. There’s no label, no branding— not even a fake one. That knowledge alone makes her brows furrow with something undefinable and complicated. He put in a lot of work, that much is abundantly clear. It’s wholly unexpected, and she can’t help the way her eyes drift towards the white box sitting across the room with a look of disdain. Her cheeks suddenly feel hot. Maybe it’s shame. Or embarrassment. 

She doesn't know. She doesn't know.

Although she’d joked about receiving something for the holiday, Nicolette hadn’t expected more than a cheap set of chocolates in a tacky, heart-shaped box. Even nothing at all would’ve been unsurprising, if not a little hurtful. This? It seems like a joke, but there’s nothing about it that would confirm that assumption. In fact, the note is fairly straightforward in that typical blunt way Wang Yi says things when he's either indifferent, or overly embarrassed, and the strawberries taste good— great, even. It’s not that she can’t picture him putting in effort like this entirely. He would, perhaps, for someone like Zhilan, but whether it’d be out of genuine kindness, or his strange desperation to appear as such, she couldn’t possibly guess.

But there’s no way he’d bother to put up such an act, for her sake. No, he simply... decided to do this. For her? For what? His message holds no subtext of expectations for gratitude or return. It’s so unlike his normal behavior that seems to scream just how difficult he finds it to be in her presence majority of the time. She has to throw a fit or pout just to get anything at all from him, including the truth, usually. ❝ What the Hell, ❞ she says aloud, to no one in particular, ❝ you confusing bastard... ❞ Driving her crazy still, without even needing to be in the same room. For all the problems she gives him with her unpredictable behavior, the irony that he could render her speechless with just this, is not lost on her. She wants to laugh. She does.

A breathless, hallow thing that makes her face grow hotter still. It’s almost amazing how it sometimes feels as though she can understand him perfectly, and at others, not at all. So similar, so different. Both a complete enigma to those around them, entirely by design. The relationship between two liars is a dangerous, unpredictable thing on a good day, but for as much as they drive each other up the wall, she’s okay with that. Wang Yi shoves his own foot in his mouth around her nearly as much as he fools those around him with his normal, average guy performance. But shockingly, he almost always apologizes if she makes a fuss, even without the presence of their third party member. Sometimes it’s an exaggerated act, and other times... well, she hates to admit ( even to herself ) that she’s come to value his opinion even a little, but the way her chest sometimes aches with a sharp sting at his thoughtless words makes it impossible to deny.

Yet, he apologizes, regardless of how much prodding it takes, or how awkward it comes out. Wang Yi has no reason to pretend with her. They both know that. There’s no point in coddling her feelings to get on her good side, and she knows for certain that isn’t his goal. In fact, he seems to have no goal at all, at least with her. He apologizes when he fucks up, and then he fucks up again. And it’s... okay. It’s nice. It’s real. She fucks up too, after all. The constant arguing and reconciliation that falls alongside their civil, positive interactions feels more genuine than most anything else. As sincere as Zhilan’s unwavering gentleness. Without even realizing it, she’s nearly dropped all pretense with him, too. It’s a scary thought. She doesn’t know what it would mean to let it all go completely. She catches herself becoming too complacent and puts on an act or insists on goading for a reaction, if only out of fear. Maybe she cares about him, maybe she’s already too attached. But if her shock to this gift means anything, it’s that she still doesn’t really know where she stands, with him. Not fully.

A shared understanding, their kiss that lacked feelings, but wasn’t so meaningless that she wouldn’t mind doing it again if the mood struck, the way he makes her feel exposed, not rejected, when he calls her out on her bullshit— Nicolette knows it’s more than she could expect from anyone, more than she deserves, but she’s always been selfish. It’s too hard to let her guard down fully, yet. Maybe that’s okay, though. ❝ Goddammit... so fucking stupid. ❞ The laugh that follows is a little less hollow this time as she eats another strawberry and stands from the chair. ❛ Normal people don’t struggle this much with friendship, ❜ she thinks, ❛ we’re ridiculous. ❜

The basket is nestled safely in the fridge before Nicolette exits the kitchen, grabbing a pen on her way. When she picks up the box of chocolate she spent way too much dust on, she bites the bullet and scribbles a messy addition to the note on top before heading out the door.

[nicawlette]

pfft SKETCH + DOODLE

Send "Sketch!" and I will draw our muses together in a way that sums up their relationship! | Alternately, send “Doodle!” and I will draw our muses together as my muse would draw them!

Mun sketch:

Muse doodle:

❝ I drew us as dangerous apex predators found in the wild! ❞

[nicawlette]

SPOTS TO KISS.

@nobully asked: spots to kiss + *insert number here LOL*

7. a kiss on the eyelid or the undereye. 35. a kiss on the space between shoulder blades. oh i inserted some numbers alright. my city now, bitch

The call of the waking world reaches Nicolette much slower than it usually did, especially in more recent times. As of late, it's been a miracle to fall asleep at all— when she does, it's no more than a few hours of fitful tossing and nightmares. Her body aches and her mind is plagued by too much stress to turn off. When she wakes, it's with a start, the tail end of a scream or cry for help on the tip of her tongue that comes out as broken wheezes.

Somehow, it has left her feeling more exhausted than if she'd simply skipped it altogether.

That morning, however, Nicolette stirs in steady increments. Her body begins to rouse before her brain does, all ten fingers and toes coming to life as they tense, wiggle and then relax. The blanket grazes against her bare calves where the legs of the loose sweatpants she'd borrowed had bunched up at her knees during the night. A leg bends, hitching higher until a foot brushing an ankle that isn't her own and her thigh curls around one of Wang Yi's.

She's laying on her right side, plastered up against him as he sleeps on his back. Her left arm is thrown across his waist while his stretches out, supporting her neck. Her right is bent and trapped trapped beneath her chest, growing numb, whereas Wang Yi's rests comfortably at his side. Nicolette's head fits into the curve of his neck, face buried against his shoulder.

Oh, yes, she remembers now— after he'd cared for her all evening and beginning of the night, the exhaustion hit her like a train. Those handful of hours with him had felt like days with how much they'd jampacked into them. She hadn't even had to ask about staying over. Wang Yi had simply offered her a pair of pants and pulled the covers back like it was something they'd done a hundred times before. It didn't feel strange or awkward to crawl into the space beside him, and she hadn't hesitated getting closer.

It wasn't at all like the first time, when he'd fallen asleep at the edge of the bed while reading to her before ultimately leaving the room. It wasn't even like the second time, where he begged her to stay after a fight that had felt much bigger and more important than any other petty argument they'd had. They slept in the same bed, then. Like friends at a sleepover. Side-by-side, with a strange distance despite being close enough their arms could've brushed with the slightest movement.

The distance is gone, now.

Thinking back, she recalls the way he'd been shocked by her clinginess ( but also that he had not rejected it ). Her excuse had been that sleeping on her back hurt too much because of the wounds, and it was easier like this because it took the weight off. It was partially true— she hardly feels them at all right now, as long as she remains still. Wang Yi had not put up a fight about it. Did not demand room to breathe or complain about being uncomfortable. In fact, he almost held her closer, and seemed more amused by her excuses then anything else.

The last thing Nicolette remembers is the feeling of his fingers brushing hair from her face and stroking over the bandages at her shoulder. It was the most peaceful night of sleep she's had since the mist ( maybe even before that ). She feels more rested than she has in ages. It makes her reluctant to let it end, but then Wang Yi begins to stir beneath her snake-like constricting and Nicolette knows there's no use holding on. She makes a noise of complaint anyway and he responds with a questioning sound of his own, clearly not-yet fully awake.

❝ Mn... Yiyi— ❞ She starts, unsure of where her sleep-addled brain plans on going with the forming thought, but it is effectively deleted the moment she turns her head to look at him the same time he cranes his neck to look at her. They meet by way of mouth— or, to be more specific, Wang Yi's lips meet the skin beneath her left eye. They brush towards her cheekbone, trailing along the trademark scars. He lingers even as she blinks at him in surprise, but neither move to pull away. It's a terribly vulnerable place to be touched and it freezes her in place. Her relationship with the marks is a complicated one. They used to make her feel self-conscious, afraid that the only good thing about her had been ruined.

The resentment towards their existence is not gone, but by this point she's left behind most of the insecurities. They merely add to her mysterious allure. People loved to ask questions, and she loved to tell grander and grander lies about how they were received. Still, no one ever touched them. No one was allowed to touch them— Hell, she hardly put her own hands anywhere near unless out of nervous habit. But Wang Yi is doing just that, and she's... letting him, eyes closing without her permission. What started as an accident is now done with intention as his lips move slowly over the marks as if to feel out their shape. He seems intrigued by them, but Nicolette realizes he may still be half asleep when his tongue peeks out to lick over the ridges of a scar and she gasps.

He goes to do it again and it knocks a laugh from her lungs, eyes crinkling at the corners as she dissolves further into amusement and swats at his chest. ❝ What the Hell are you doing?? ❞ She pulls back, both palms pressing into the mattress on either side of his body so she can hover above him. Plum stands pool in rivulets beside his head as she laughs in his face.

That seems to be enough to fully knock the sense back into his brain and eradicate the last vestiges of sleep. He doesn't appear apologetic, though. Instead he considers it, then replies, ❝ I was curious what they felt like. ❞ As if that made total sense. The same curiosity as when he'd expressed interest in tasting her blood. It makes her giggle harder and she shoves her hand against his cheek, breathing ❛ you're so fucking weird ❜ like it's the greatest compliment one could give.

She moves to sit up fully, turning her back towards him before Nicolette feels the bed dip as he gets up too. Her hair spills over her shoulders, the muscles of her back shifting as she arches and lifts both arms above her head to stretch. It's not the smartest idea, considering her injuries are still healing, and she hisses through her teeth as the position tugs painfully at a few fresh stitches. Still, Nicolette finds herself smiling, because she can feel Wang Yi's eyes on her. She snorts, rubbing at her cheeks as they begin to warm under the attention.

❝ I swear you're doing that on purpose, ❞ he mutters, but the complaint hardly holds up when he reaches out to drag a hand down the bandages he'd wrapped himself. As he strokes further down, the pressure shifting from gentle and tender to firm and purposeful. It delivers the desired effect, encouraging both soft sighs and hitches of breath followed by quiet, wounded noises.

Nicolette shivers. ❝ That's a bold accusation, ❞ she teases, ❝ I'm innocent— scout's honor. ❞ Wang Yi scoffs from behind and her smile grows wider. She doesn't have to look to know his expression is one exasperation when he mutters ❛ Innocent? Since when? Do you even know what that word means? ❜ Oh, her cheeks hurt from grinning. She's grateful he cannot see it, but he can probably hear it in her voice, anyway. ❝ Oh yeah? Correct me if my memory is failing, but you didn't seem too bothered by it last night. ❞

That gets him, but he hardly seems to shy away from the callout as he once would've. There's no reason to— they aren't supposed to hide things, after all. ❝ That was last night, ❞ he insists, ❝ and as much as I might want to mess you up, I just put you back together. Don't go doing anything stupid like busting open your stitches so soon. ❞ Contrary to his words, his fingers press into her tender flesh as they slide to the curve of her waist, causing her to gasp ❛ Hypocrite! ❜ without any actual heat. The pressure is gone just as quickly. ❝ I should probably leave soon, anyway. ❞ He sighs, and Nicolette doesn't miss the quiet mutter under his breath ❛ shouldn't put this off ❜.

❝ No fair. ❞ She complains, but it's only for the sake of being selfish. Nicolette vaguely remembers him mentioning visiting other people, and she supposes it makes sense, considering the state the mist had left her in. It doesn't make her any less disappointed about having to go back to the cold solitude of her apartment. But she's not about to start acting like a jealous girlfriend just because she's lonely. She has no right to, and it'll only freak him out. Still... ❝ Hey, Wang Yi... ❞ Nicolette murmurs, sounding more hesitant than intended. ❝ If I... need help again, could I— I mean, I can do it on my own, obviously, but— ❞

Noticing her clear struggle, the way her shoulders hunch up to her ears, Wang Yi shuts her up as effectively as his instincts encourage. He leans forward, pressing his lips between her shoulder blades, feeling the way she relaxes almost immediately. The longer they remain, the more the tension melts away. It's nothing like kissing her bare skin, but the heat is transferred between them anyway, through the layer of bandages. ❝ Nicolette, ❞ he starts, and she can feel his lips form around the syllables of her name, ❝ bandages shouldn't be left on for too long without being replaced. Especially if they get dirty. When it's time to change them again, let me know. I'll do it for you. ❞ And that's it. That's all it takes for him to save her from herself. Screw whatever shortcomings or struggle she has with asking for help— she doesn't need to ask, then.

Heat pools in her stomach and on her face— colors from cheeks to ears. There's warmth blooming in her chest and fluttering in her guts. It feels nice, to be cared for like that. To not have to beg for it. ❝ Mmn... okay. I'll hold you to that— it's too much of a hassle to do by myself, anyway. ❞ It's the closest she can get to admitting how good it felt to be tended to by his hands. To be touched and desired despite her broken state, allowing respite from the events that gave her the wounds in the first place. It's the best she can do to express how comforting it was to share a bed with another body— his body.

It's the only way she knows how to convey the trust she's placed in him, until the opportunity presents itself to word it better, later. Later, when more of this makes sense. For now, it's enough.

❝ Well, if you're kicking me out, you better give me a jacket to put on— I'm not leaving your condo with my tits out, bandages or not. ❞ From over her shoulder she offers him a smile and adds, ❝ I want breakfast, too. You won't force me to leave hungry when I'm in recovery, will you, Yiyi? ❞

[nicawlette]

👀 do you think you have a chance at a real relationship with wang yi?

👀 + HONEST ANSWERS

Anger roars to life to life beneath her skin in an instant, ready to consume everything in its path even if she burns along with it; however, it brings with it no warmth. Instead, it just leaves her feeling terribly cold. ❝ Don't you think by now I've learned not to expect shit that isn't going to happen? ❞

There's not much else to say about it, is there? Perhaps that isn't the expected answer, but neither is it a lie. Bitterness sits at the back of her throat as she swallows, acidic and stomach churning. ❝ It doesn't really matter what I do or don't think, anyway, does it? He made it clear what he wanted when he spent weeks freaking out about our first ❛ accidental ❜ kiss. Something that doesn't mean anything. ❞ And oh, how that seems a little harder to say than it used to.

It was fine, nothing had to mean anything. Nothing ever did. She is plenty used to exchanges like this by now in her life. The heaviness in her chest will get easier to ignore with time and time and time...

Right?

❝ I don't think someone like me has a chance at a real relationship with anyone. Ever. ❞ Is that the honesty you wanted?

[nicawlette]

A  FUCKED  UP  KISSING  MEME

@nobully asked: 💔 i am ready

18. a  kiss  that  draws  blood.

She wasn't not drunk— not that much, at least. Not enough to be unaware of what she'd done, or was doing. Not enough to forget it all tomorrow.

Just enough that loose inhibitions had all but disappeared during her time spent at various bar counters, laughing and flirting with whatever patrons had been chosen to keep her company before she'd set off for her next destination. Nicolette preferred not to look too deeply at all the things that had led to her spending the evening like this, eager to turn everything hazy around the edges.

The problem with letting go of inhibition, however, was that she lost the restraint she already possessed so little of. Emotions ran high, volatile, ready to take the place of logical thought with the slightest provocation. It was a dangerous cocktail that often got her into trouble.

It was precisely why Nicolette finds herself sitting in Wang Yi's apartment with her shirt rolled up, biting cheek and tongue through the stinging pain of antiseptic being dabbed against the ugly wound on her waist. She's not drunk, but somehow sentiment had won out above all rationale, leading him to be the first name she thought to call as she'd sat bleeding in the alleyway behind the bar. He hadn't sounded too happy to be woken up so late and just as anxious as the first time she'd called him for reasons like this, but even so... he'd answered.

And then he showed up.

❛ I'm not going to the hospital. ❜ Had been the very first thing she'd said when his feet came into view, and she must've expressed just how nonnegotiable it was from the start because, miraculously, he hadn't argued. Still, an acute sense of dread had filled her, that he might just leave, and while Nicolette could realistically take care of herself just as she always had, it would be a nightmare. And... she didn't want to be alone. ❛ Take me to your place— it's closer, and I risk running into Zhilan if I go back to the apartment... we can't worry him. ❜ We, because it was the best way she knew to convince him.

Thank God for little miracles. It had worked, and she's only half regretting it as Wang Yi nudges his fingers a little too firmly against the split flesh. She hisses sharply through her teeth, and he surprises her by murmuring a soft ❛ sorry ❜ despite his apparent annoyance. Nicolette won't dare to fool herself into believing he's actually worried... that this gentle care is anything other than an effort to preserve the flimsy facsimile of normalcy he's created for himself by acting like a good person. Still, it's enough to make warmth bloom within her chest, right alongside a dull ache.

Another bit of rough prodding causes her to flinch away from his touch, a gasp of pain leaving her lips as they pull into a grimace. ❝ Oi, nurse, you're patching me up, not dissecting me like a goddamn frog! ❞ Nicolette turns to shoot him a warning look, but the expression on his face gives her pause. She manages to catch him tearing his wide eyes away from her expression of pain just in time, but he's not quick enough to play off the way his gaze lingers on her sluggishly bleeding wound, cheeks slightly flushed in a matching shade of red.

❝ Maybe if you stop moving around so mu— ❞ He starts to complain, a rather poor excuse, before her harsh bite of laughter silences him.

❝ Oh, I see. ❞ The words are drawn out and dripping with meaning. The cut on her bottom lip burns as Nicolette smiles, appraising Wang Yi with great amusement.

❝ I don't know what you're talking about, ❞ he argues, ❝ do you want my help or not? ❞ Knowing him, he's probably bluffing— there's no way he'll just leave her to bleed out, no matter how much she pisses him off. All she has to do is seem a little hurt, genuine or not, and he folds for her, every time. Is any of that real? Is any of that concern for her wellbeing or feelings actually directed at her as a person? Or is it another lie, one he won't let go of, even in her similarly twisted presence?

She decides not to think too hard about that, right now. Instead, Nicolette focuses on how that earlier warmth has dipped low to pool in her gut at the way he'd seemed so enraptured by her suffering. ❝ Are you sure it isn't you who wants something from me? ❞ She tests, reaching down to wrap scarred fingers around his thin wrist. ❝ You seemed awfully focused on something other than providing medical treatment, just now... ❞ Her grip tightens before letting go altogether. ❝ Do it again, ❞ she says, quiet and provacative, ❝ you know you want to. ❞

Emboldened by her open invitation, Wang Yi only appears to hesitate for a brief moment, as if waiting for her to lash out, before his firm touch returns to the edges of the injury and presses a little harder than necessary. Her brows knit, face pinching in discomfort as she makes a soft, wounded sound. He's wholly entranced, giving her his full attention in a way he hasn't before ( aside from the night he'd been drunk ).

She's always been addicted to that— being under someone's sole focus.

Nicolette realizes belatedly that her bottom lip is bleeding again as it's abused between her teeth, copper coating her tongue. Wang Yi seems to notice, catching the way a drop rolls down her chin. Of course, she notices that, too. ❝ Hey... did you still want to try my blood? ❞ The words come suddenly, surprising even herself, though she doesn't allow it to show.

❝ Yeah, kind of, ❞ he admits, before appearing suspicious, ❝ wait... you don't mean— ❞

❝ You don't hate the idea, do you? ❞ She interrupts, turning towards him on the stool to lean closer, unbandaged wound momentarily forgotten. ❝ Don't lie. ❞

❝ That's not— that isn't the point. ❞ There he goes, trying to make excuses, instead of just going with the flow. ❝ Plus, if I really wanted to, I have your blood on my fingers. That'd be much easier. ❞ Proving his point, Wang Yi begins to lift the hand that had fondled her just moments ago, bringing it towards his face.

Nicolette stops him just as quickly by grabbing his wrist again, yanking it away and in turn, pulling him closer. Her other hand grips his face, thumb and forefinger holding his chin in place. ❝ It's no fun that way, ❞ she scolds, clearly teasing. She's still thinking about the way he'd reacted to hurting her, and it makes heat rise to her cheeks in excitement. ❝ Come on, doc... ❞

❝ I don't think this is covered by your insurance. ❞ He snarks, though it's weak and clearly just for show. He makes no move to pull back.

❝ It's okay if you're too embarrassed to admit it... you can just push me away if you don't want to... ❞ That whispered warning is all he gets, and when no rejection comes, Nicolette does not allow herself to hesitate. She closes the distance between them quickly, angling his face towards hers by the hold on his chin. He seems cautious still, meeting her movement more slowly.

Their lips slide together wetly, aided by the slick fluid coating them from small cut. She hums curiously, deciding to make it easier for him. Fingers release his chin for a moment before grabbing his face, pressing into his cheeks and forcing his mouth open at the same time she lets go of his wrist to rest her hot palm atop his thigh, using it as leverage to lean against.

This seems surprise him enough that he bites down on her bottom lip on reflex, eliciting a sharp cry of pain. The cut splits further and floods their mouths with blood. He jerks, gasping audibly, but she follows after him even as he begins to pull away. ❝ It's fine, ❞ she reassures against his lips, breathless, ❝ keep going. ❞

He pauses for only a second longer before relaxing by fractions, returning the kiss with growing fervor. He's not as wildly eager as he'd been when drunk, too held back by his own thoughts. Still, it's clear he's enjoying himself, and she's pleased that his talent in this field is just as prominent while sober. Wang Yi doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands, but settles for moving one towards the curve of her waist, settling it below the cause of this whole situation.

His fingers twitch like they're barely holding back giving into temptation, and even that soft brush against her tender skin causes some hurt— yet the muffled ❛ ah ❜ she makes in response is hardly one of just pain. Apparently, that proves to be ample motivation. He does not flinch this time, nor pull his hand away. Instead, he parts his lips further and their tongues meet at long last.

It goes on like this until she loses track of time. Until everything starts to feel a little hazy around the edges again. Nicolette had been sober since she'd called Wang Yi in the alley surrounded by unconscious bodies in worse shape than her, and knows that alcohol is not to blame. In fact, her side feels far too warm and wet, even if the press of Wang Yi's fingers against her flesh is pleasant. She's the one to pull away first, growing lightheaded from lack of air, among other things. They're both flushed and panting, and she notices that her hand had found its way to the nape of his neck while the other remains gripping his thigh.

Nicolette blinks slowly, breathing in deeply. Her voice is wrecked and her gaze is liquid hot as she confesses, ❝ I'd love to continue, ❞ and if that doesn't make him sputter, ❝ but I... think I might pass out, soon... ❞ There's only a second of confusion before he notices the state of her wound and pulls away, all heat replaced with outrage and panic. She closes her eyes, mildly disappointed, though a muted smile plays on her lips as she drowns out his questions and scolding.

❝ It's fine, ❞ the assurance is punctuated by another squeeze to his thigh, ❝ I've... lost a lot more than this, and survived. ❞

❝ Just... bandage me up... and let me sleep over, yeah? I'm tired... ❞ Maybe if she's lucky, her pitiful state and wildly impressive makeout skills will keep her from having to occupy his bed alone, this time.

[nicawlette]

Send a flower to hear…

@nobully asked: 🌷🥀🌹🌺

AND: 🌷 praise me >:0

🌷… a compliment. ( x2 )

❝ Two compliments, huh? Looks like Wangy is being greedy as usual... ❞ She appears a little apprehensive, but it's more about reluctance to openly compliment someone who won't return the favor, rather than struggling to think of anything. ❝ He's a lot smarter than he lets on, though I think that's all by design, as is usually the case with him. He's a lot smarter than me academically, that's for sure. ❞ It's a little hard not to feel like an outsider when him and Zhilan get particularly passionate about something she struggles to understand, but somehow it still gives her a sense of fondness, as of late.

❝ He's cute, too. I like cute things. A young, handsome face— he makes such enticing expressions. It makes it hard not to tease. ❞ They're pretty similar, when it comes to such things.

🥀…. a complaint.

❝ He's got no idea how to communicate with women. ❞ Okay, maybe just her, specifically. ❝ It'd be funny how quickly he's able to piss me off... if it didn't piss me off, so much. ❞ Her lips tug into a slight frown, but if one were to look closely, it seems more for show than anything else.

❝ Like being stupid enough to go and get himself hurt, and then having the audacity to try and defend it like it was a good idea. He's such a dipshit about the dumbest things, I swear to God. ❞

🌹… a confession.

Ah... Nicolette feels her cheeks go a little warm, and she promptly looks away. Lips part and then close and then open again, struggling to put it into words. ❝ I know I just bitched about him being difficult... but I kind of... don't hate it, either? ❞ Scarred fingers rub the back of her neck in a show of discomfort. ❝ He's— well, sometimes I feel a little jealous that he seems to get along with others so easily, like how overly nice he is to Lanlan compared to me, but then I remember that it's because he's usually bullshitting everyone. ❞ Everyone but her.

❝ I like that we fight, because it's a sign that he's being his real self. It's... different. Good. It makes me feel special. I think we're getting better, though... at not lying, and still getting along. Sometimes! ❞

🌺… a secret.

❝ Hmm... oh, hah! Here's a good one, I'm sure he'd have a field day with this, ❞ she grins to herself, as if in on a private joke, ❝ I wouldn't mind making out again, if the opportunity arose. He flipped out about it so much after the last time. We worked it out, I think, but I've taken pity on him and haven't mentioned it since. ❞

❝ It's not like I'll just make out with anyone— I don't regret that it was him, though I'm not sure the feeling is mutual. It's too bad! I think we had good chemistry! Maybe I'd even let him be a little mean, pffft— ❞

[nicawlette]

❝ Th-This is really the— pfffffft !!! Th-The nicest thing a-anyone's everrrrhhhhhehhe given meee—hhhhhahHAHAHA !!! ❞ She's cradling the drawing like it's a national treasure, tears on her face. It's getting framed and hung in her room.

[nicawlette]

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING

@nobully asked: the good kind of spam ⭐️☎🎼👋📱

Send ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanons about our muses.

Perhaps the only reason Nicolette still insists on putting up a front and telling unnecessary lies in Wang Yi's presence despite knowing how similar they are is not because she's afraid he'll reject her if he knows too much, but that he won't. She's spent her whole life believing there'd always be a space between her and ❛ regular people ❜ she couldn't cross because of the things she's done, that she's long given up actively trying. But here's this person who's similar to her in many ways and can clearly see past her bullshit, yet doesn't seem to give a shit one way or another. Nicolette has no idea how to handle the idea of being SEEN ( being KNOWN ), that it both terrifies her, and makes her a little desperate not to be left behind. No wonder she tries so hard to get under his skin still.

Jumping off your HC, Nicolette has a sneaking suspicion already that Wang Yi follows her accounts. She can't prove it because there's too many followers to go through and he doesn't use his name, but she just knows in her BONES. She's made it a point to include more pictures and posts involving the trio that sometimes they nearly overtake her usual content ( fashion, sexy selfies, makeup, cute animals, ya know ). Some of her followers are a little bitter wondering who these 2 guys she's hanging out with all the time are, but who cares! She's clearly having fun.

Send ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent).

photo: At one point, it was a photo she took quite suddenly after intentionally goading him until he looked pissed off and flustered. But it has since been changed to a picture she took in secret on a complete whim while he and @archaictold were being nerds and discussing their research at the library as she hung out in thee background ( until they were ready to pay attention to her ). He's got this earnest, almost excited expression on his face— a more sincere look of happiness than she's sure he'd ever direct her way. She just couldn't resist capturing for herself. name: 🌊Yi-Yi🌸 ringtone: pink venom ( she rarely uses default ringtones. prefers music or memes as ringtones/texttones )

last texts received: [txt] what's with the missed call?? [txt] that voicemail was creepy too... [txt] nicolette what did you do? [txt] you know what. nevermind. i don't want to be involved.

last texts sent: [txt] are you in the right headspace to receive information that could possibly hurt you? [txt] lanlan said i should try speaking to you in a language ur familiar with [txt] so i found the perfect video to intellectually express my predicament [txt] (video link) [txt] translation: i found out. pls help

Send 🎼 for a song that reminds me of our muses.

Palm Reader » DREAMERS, Big Boi ft. UPSAHL

This Hell » Rina Sawayama

BlindLife » YDE

Send 👋 for three things that describe our muses relationship.

Sitting so close to a burning fire that the heat is nearly painful on your skin, but being unwilling to step back because the air around you is far too cold.

The fear of being alone and afraid of monsters that lurk in the dark paired with the unexplainable sense of safety and protection you feel once you're completely covered under the blanket. Like it's dangerous, but nothing can get you under there...

A funhouse mirror

Send📱for a voicemail my muse left yours.

1 Voicemail — Saturday, 3:25AM

There's a long pause after the beep followed by some aggressive shuffling and then an out of breath, ❝ Hello? Wangy? Can you— ❞ The voice suddenly cuts off with more shuffling and some muffled shouting in the background. The wind is loud, nearly blowing the speaker out as if the caller is running outside. ❝ Oh for the love of— ❞ The sound of a scuffle can be heard and a string of expletives before a loud crashing noise. Silence. And finally, ❝ Hey Wangy... can you come pick me up? ❞