little smol information post abt little smol me
other platforms where you can find me:
- twitter (not really active there)
- fa (not really active there too...)
- insta (im bitch ass dead there i won't even put a link)
- vkontakte (only ru but i post there a lot more)
also you can repost my art, just don't claim it's yours and tag me.
no trades requests comms.
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hello and congratulations on hitting 200!!! 🥰 that’s so awesome!!
could i please request something w the love of my life, jean? 🥺 (and maybe a lil cameo w eren because i love him too but you don’t have to if it’s too much!!)
thanks so much and congrats again 💗💗
thank u!! oh sweet jeanbo! u got it!
for reasons unbeknownst to you, jean had agreed to come with you to the mall. was it for the froyo? the pretzels? surely it wasn't for the stores themselves? regardless, you didn't comment when he agreed, and you'd made it the whole drive without so much as a comment on how bored he's gonna be.
you walk into the mall and grab coffee, but it soon becomes apparent that the mall is way too busy for either of you, as swarms of people gather to watch a local performance at the mall's centre. you suggest that you both come back tomorrow, and head for the exit.
outside, the heat hits you, and you feel a little deflated not being able to partake in a little retail therapy with your boyfriend. you're lost in the daydream when you feel an elbow to the shoulder.
"hey," jean says. you turn to look at him and watch as, without a word, he nods to the ikea across the road. he'd sensed your disappointment, and seeing how your eyes light up like a child in a candy store window, he smiles and grabs your hand.
you stroll around the soft furniture and desks, commenting on ones you like and finishing off your coffee. but when you get to the model rooms, it's jean's turn to act like a kid.
he swans around the kitchens, pretending to be a cheesy chef on a morning cooking show. he waltzes into the living rooms and puts on a persona of a single stud living alone in a bachelor pad. through every room he leaves you a giggling mess, amplified only by his failed attempts to pronounce every swedish name he came across.
after exhausting his acting prowess, he throws an arm around you as you stroll through the remaining rooms.
"remind me never to bring you here again, you're a mess," he says, teasing you. you look up to him wide eyed and mouth agape, but it was all in good fun.
"whatever," you reply, "you're the one living out your failed actor fantasy in the middle of an ikea."
he huffs a laugh.
"maybe," he agrees, "guess I'll tone it down when we come back here shopping for all our own stuff."
the comment catches you off guard in the best way. living apart was hard, and you'd often thought about moving in with jean but didn't want to broach the subject lest you scared him off. but, knowing he was on the same wavelength as you made your stomach flare with butterflies, and a grin appear on your face.
"just a little," you agree, "stay a little silly, just for me."
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