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#thank you for wondering though you are so sweet
luveline · 17 hours
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jade!! i saw you were willing to add emily to your 46 fics and i have a request!! i think about your emily x single mom!reader everyday and i was wondering if you’d write more in that universe? maybe emily has to drop readers kid off at their first day of pre-k or preschool (i have no clue what you call it in the uk) because reader has a work emergency or something??
thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.1k
“It’ll be fun,” Emily says. 
Jane is looking at Emily like she’s grown a second head. “No.” 
Emily tries again. Swallows her nerves, and readjusts herself where she’s on her knees. “Mommy was gonna drop you off herself, but it's her very first day back at work and they needed her super early, so it’s me. But mom will be the one who picks you up again.” 
Jane just squints. 
“I have to go to work, too,” Emily says. 
“I’m com’n with you,” Jane says, nodding. 
Emily looks behind Jane at the baby gated corral of little kids. It’s possibly the worst adjustment in the world for your work to decide the day-of that you’d have to go early. You didn’t have time to prepare Jane for her own first day, and Emily isn’t good at this bit yet. 
“No,” Emily says, holding Jane by both arms, “I have to go work too, and it’s too boring for you. You’re gonna have way more fun here meeting your new friends.” 
Jane had already met one of the daycare workers, incidentally called Janet, a few days ago to try and ease the new phase of her life, but it’s a common fact that the majority of kids cry on their first day here. Why wouldn’t she? Jane has spent the majority of her growing life with you. This is a horrible adjustment, but better she does it now. 
Emily’s just waiting for tears.
“Em-wy…” 
“It’ll be fun, okay? There’s so much to do! Colouring, painting, dancing, nap time. They’ll make you lunch, and your new friends will have games to play–” She strokes Jane’s arm. “Sound fun?” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“I’ll miss you…” Jane mumbles, her eyes finally growing shiny. 
Emily’s honestly not expecting it. “Well, I’ll miss you more. But mommy will pick you up soon,” —you aren’t working the full day— “and you’ll see me at dinner time, okie dokie?” 
“I’m not…” Jane looks lost for what to say. She’s very, very little. Emily isn’t surprised. 
“I know it’s different, but it’s not bad.” Emily tilts her head to the side, giving Jane her gentlest smile. She’s learned all her motherly tricks from you. It’s easy to fall into that tone of voice, that same affection, because Emily adores Jane. 
“Em-wy,” Jane mumbles again. 
“Janie,” she says, copying Jane’s warbling voice. “Baby, I swear it will be great, and then mommy will pick you up and I will buy you whatever big girl dinner you want. We could have McDonald’s.” 
She whispers the last part. 
Jane smiles slowly. “Okie dokie.”
Emily should’ve guessed that Jane wouldn’t cry. She’s a funny little kid, quiet and sweet and a teeny bit slow to understand. Perhaps she’ll cry once Emily’s already gone. 
“Okay. Do you want a cuddle before I leave?” 
Jane nods, tucking her face into Emily’s front. Emily wraps her arms around her and breathes in the smell of the lavender conditioner you’d run through her hair last night. “Love you, babe,” Emily whispers. 
“Love you too.”
Emily thankfully gets home. Hotch laughs at her eagerness to not work, remarking that somehow you’d made a family of a woman determined not to be tied down. He had a point —Emily didn’t realise she wanted a wife until she met you. Didn’t realise she wanted a daughter until she met Jane, though she’s had her whims and whiles about it. 
This is real. 
You hear the door and hurry to it. Emily’s barely out of her shoes when you find her, in your smart clothes yourself, a chocolate smudge on your cheek. 
“Where’s the fire?” Emily asks. 
“Thank you for this morning,” you say, taking her hands. 
Emily softens as you rub her fingers. “You’re welcome. Did she– was she okay? She looked extremely worried for a baby.” 
“She’s not a baby.” You lean forward and to one side, just touching her. “Emily, you– I was so worried, I thought she’d take it hard but you really pulled a magic trick. She didn’t even cry when I picked her up. When I asked how her day was, she told me you promised it would be fun… and that you were going to get her McDonald’s.” 
“I will get her McDonald’s.” 
You take a swift, soft kiss. “My hero. She told me she missed me, but guess who she mentioned first?” 
Emily raises her eyebrows. 
“Mm-hm,” you hum, pulling her to the kitchen. “Em-wy, of course.”
Emily squeezes your hand as you both enter the kitchen to find the source of your kissed cheek. Jane sits at the table in lavender pyjamas to match the smell of her hair. She’s eating chocolate covered strawberries and celery with peanut butter, spread on her hands and lips, but less on her cheeks than her mom. 
“Baby, look! Guess who’s home?” 
Jane finds Emily with her gaze and gasps happily, clapping, a strawberry falling in the gap of her chest and table. “You’re back!”
“I’m back! You’re home, too! Did you have fun?” 
There’s a suspicion in Jane’s expression that she’s too young for, as though she’s guessed this whole daycare business is permanent, but she shrugs it off. “I miss you,” she says. 
“I’m back,” Emily reminds her. “I can see where mommy got her kiss from, that looks yummy.” 
You wipe your cheeks with two palms and bring them down to find chocolate melted against your fingers. “Thanks for telling me.” 
“I had plans to help you eventually.” Emily rounds the table and chair to tip Jane’s head back gently, looking her over. “You okay? Did you have a good day?” 
“Good day,” she echoes. 
“You’re happy?” Emily asks. 
She’d realised how nervous she was for your girl the second she left the daycare building. What if Jane hates it, and she cries the whole day and makes her eyes sore? Emily hadn’t enjoyed thinking about it, deciding she’d get her more than McDonald’s. 
“I’m glad you had a good day,” Emily says. 
“I fed Sergio!” Jane tells her. 
Sir-joe must be a pretty happy cat. “Thank you, babe, you’re the bestest.” 
You aren’t jealous but eager as you slide into Emily’s side and under her arm. You smile as you rest your face on her shoulder, a little cat-like yourself as your breathing evens. “She saved the day.” 
Jane looks up at you both, but her eyes meet Emily’s as she smiles. “Missed you, mommy,” she says. 
Emily’s heart skips a beat, wondering, just for a moment, if Jane was talking to her. Emily wouldn’t mind it. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
You nab a strawberry from Jane’s plate. Emily’s expecting it, but she’s still too happy to talk as you kiss her cheek. “Got you back.”
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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Last one - I promise - I think- I hope 🙃🌻🌻
Can I request- apple pie rich vanilla perfume - for Spencer Reid
Thank youuu 🌻
Haha thank you for your requests my love! They were fun :) Also sorry in advance for the ending of this one it feels awkward to me but I couldn't figure out how to end it
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 535 words
The amalgamated scent of your shower products follows you out of the bathroom, your hair wetting your shoulders. It makes you shiver, but you leave Spencer’s bedroom window open to let the cool night air in a while longer. 
“Do you have hot chocolate mix?” you ask Spencer, padding towards the kitchen. 
“No.” His voice comes from the living room, and you hear the couch springs creak as he gets up. “Just tea and coffee. If you want hot chocolate, though, I could go get some.” 
“That’s okay, tea sounds good.” You start pulling open cabinets, looking for it. Spencer appears a moment later. 
He touches your shoulder to encourage you back as he opens a drawer. There are more nighttime teas than caffeinated ones, most of them unopened. You wonder if they were gifts. 
“Thanks.” You glance up to flash a smile at him, then startle. 
Spencer’s hand flattens to your shoulder as if to steady you. His brows twitch together at your expression. “What?” he asks. 
“Nothing. Just…you’re in a hoodie.” 
“Oh.” He looks down as though he’d forgotten. “Yeah.”
“You’re in my hoodie.” 
His eyes meet yours again, the color of melted chocolate and twice as sweet. “Is that okay?”
You nod, your fingers finding the ribbed cuff at the end of his (your?) sleeve. They run over it absently. “Yeah, it’s okay. It just surprised me. I’ve never seen you in anything so casual.” 
“Really? I think I dress casual,” he says, softly, almost as if he’s wondering to himself. 
“I guess I’ve just never seen you in….loungewear,” you clarify. You let your touch skim upwards, pinching the fabric halfway up his arm. Spencer comes out of his musings to give you a soft smile. You mirror his expression. “It’s cute.”
His lips twitch at your word choice. “It’s okay that I didn’t ask before borrowing it? You just left it on the couch when you went to shower, and it always smells really nice.” 
“Yeah, it’s okay.” You start rifling through the tea drawer, feeling your face warm slightly. “It smells nice?” 
“Well, it smells like you.” It’s not flirtatious or even particularly kind, only matter-of-fact. “Vanilla, like that perfume you use.” 
“You like it?” 
“Yeah, I do.” You can feel Spencer’s gaze on the back of your neck. “I mean, it smells better on you, but the sweatshirt is a nice substitute for when you’re not nearby.” 
“Oh, wow.” You pick out your tea, turning to him with your eyebrows raised. “I can be replaced by a hoodie? That’s how much I mean to you?” 
Spencer knows you’re only playing with him, his lips curving. “That’s not what I said.” 
You break immediately. He’s too sweet to tease for long. Your arms come around his neck, your chin resting on the soft fabric covering his chest. 
“I can’t smell it anymore,” you say. “I think I must be too used to it.” 
Spencer holds your back with one hand, and with the other brings the collar of your sweatshirt over his nose. His inhale is subtle enough that you can barely hear it even this close. 
“It’s still nice,” he tells you. “But anything would be, on you.”
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aniimoni · 1 day
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Do you have a Lamb reference for your COTL Lamb design + do they have a name and what's their personality like? (asking because I wanna draw them)
AHHHHH I’m taking this as an opportunity to gush about my lamb, if you don’t mind anon.
First things first:
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There you go, HtK AU updated ref, all nice and pretty (Hello Balls, don’t mind this)
Now, as for your other questions:
My lamb doesn’t have a name! They are mostly referred to as “Lamb”, “Holy Lamb”, plus some other nicknames. They DID have a name, but they’ve grown detached from it due to godhood getting the best of them (more on that laterrrr)
PERSONALITY!!!!! Boy do they have a personality. I would say that pre-final battle they were VERY animated. Like- look at this:
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It was difficult for them to adapt this “non-chalant” manner that was expected of them. They have always been an expressive, genuine, and “chalant” being.
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But of course,, uhhhhhh…….. “lore stuff” happened.
After that, they’re more cold towards their followers (though they will put an act up sometimes), with some exceptions, of course (cough disciples cough cough)
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They also develop a temper problem.
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Which may or may not be mostly reserved for someone special 😇
It just really depends on which lamb we’re looking at.
Pre-Final Battle: animated, expressive, genuine, “chalant”
Post-Final Battle: mostly cold/distant (with exceptions), in-genuine, situationally temperamental
Honestly, I am REALLY glad you sent this ask because I got to talk about my lamb EVEN MOREEEEEE!!!! I’m pretty proud of how far I’ve come regarding the way that I draw them.
(btw, person who sent an ask asking more questions about the keloid: I’m working on it, I promise!!! Thank youuuuu!!!!)
Augh god, anon, there’s just so much I could tell you about my lamb- but I will spare all of you. Though now i’m wondering who exactly is behind this 🤨 Anyhow, this was very sweet! Don’t feel pressured to draw my lamb 🫶🏼 You got me to actually go through with my plan to redraw the reference page I had lol
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solxamber · 1 day
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This is Love - Riddle Rosehearts x reader
3 times he notices your acts of love and realizes it doesn't have to be grand and overdramatic like the movies, it could just be like this– sweet and considerate.
crossposted from my ao3!
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You’re not speaking to him. He knows why, of course—Riddle's temper had gotten the better of him again. Another argument, another set of rules he enforced too strictly, and this time you’d had enough. He had heard the bite in your words, the frustration lacing every syllable when you told him to “loosen up.”
And yet, despite the tension still simmering in the room, Riddle can’t relax. His back is stiff as he stares at the ceiling, hands clenched under the covers. He doesn't want to admit it, but the silence bothers him. It gnaws at him, the guilt festering. He can feel your presence beside him, but the distance between you feels like a canyon.
How could he have let things escalate like this?
He hears you sigh—sharp, frustrated—and then there's a shift in the blankets. For a second, he’s certain you’ll turn away from him, shutting him out entirely. It’s what he deserves, after all. But instead, something surprising happens.
Your arm. Wrapping around his waist. Gently, deliberately, like it always does before he falls asleep.
Riddle stiffens at first, completely taken aback. His mind races, wondering if this is a trick or just muscle memory. He doesn’t dare breathe. His heart is in his throat. You pull him closer and press a kiss to his hair.
Why are you…? After everything, you still…?
He feels the warmth of your touch seep into his skin, and slowly, so slowly, his rigid posture begins to relax. His breath comes out shakily, and though his pride won’t let him say it out loud, he’s grateful. It’s your way of telling him you’re still angry, but you love him. You always do.
And with that, sleep finally finds him, nestled in the comfort of your embrace.
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The cold is biting today, and Riddle feels it in his bones. He’s leaving class with you, rubbing his arms discreetly as he walks. His uniform is meant to be formal and pristine, not warm, and his stubbornness refuses to let him complain. Still, he knows you’ve noticed.
Of course you’ve noticed.
“Riddle,” your voice breaks the quiet as you hurry to catch up with him. He doesn’t even look at you, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from earlier in class.
“Are you cold?”
“I’m fine,” he insists, his words clipped and precise. But the truth is, he’s shivering. His hands are numb. He’s starting to lose feeling in his fingers, and you can see it all over his face, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
In a swift motion, before he can protest, you slip off your jacket and drape it over his shoulders. Riddle freezes—literally and figuratively.
“W-what are you—”
“Take my jacket,” you say casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I can’t have the Housewarden of Heartslabyul freezing to death.”
The words hit him harder than he expects. His cheeks flame bright red, matching the tips of his ears, and he’s torn between protesting and basking in the warmth your jacket provides. It smells like you, like comfort, and he’s mortified by how much he likes it.
“...Thank you,” he mutters, barely audible, but the soft smile on your face tells him you heard him loud and clear. He tugs the jacket tighter around himself, both embarrassed and… a little touched. Maybe more than a little.
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It’s late. Too late. Riddle’s been up for hours, drowning in paperwork and assignments, his brain on the verge of collapse. He’s so exhausted that even the numbers on the page are starting to blur together. Just a few more pages. He can finish this. He can—
He doesn’t remember falling asleep. One moment, he’s sitting at his desk, half-writing, half-dreaming, and the next, he wakes up with his face smushed against his textbook. His eyes flutter open groggily, his neck aching from the awkward angle.
Great. This will set him back for the entire day.
He blinks, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, and looks down at the stack of papers on his desk. The assignments are… finished? Every single one of them.
Riddle frowns. There’s no way he did all this. Is there?
“When did I finish this?” he mutters to himself, flipping through the pages. The handwriting is… definitely not his.
“You didn’t,” you say from the bed, voice casual as you scroll through your phone.
Riddle stares at you, wide-eyed and confused. “What?”
“You were practically dead on your feet, Riddle. I finished it for you.”
He’s too shocked to respond at first. His heart races, a mix of disbelief and something else—something soft, unfamiliar. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to process the way his chest feels tight, but in a good way.
“You… shouldn’t have done that,” he says weakly, though the words don’t carry any real conviction. He’s already skimming through the assignments, seeing how you’d matched his usual style of work almost perfectly.
You just shrug, grinning lazily. “Yeah, well. I wanted to.”
And there it is again—that warmth. The same feeling he got when you held him during the argument, or when you handed him your jacket. It’s starting to become more familiar, more difficult to ignore. His heart does a funny little flip in his chest as he stares at the completed work, then back at you.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice so quiet he almost hopes you didn’t hear it.
But, of course, you did. You always do.
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Riddle's never been great at expressing feelings that aren't tied to logic or rules. Love is messy and complicated, the kind of thing that doesn't fit neatly into the boxes he's carefully organized his life around. But there are moments—like when you wrap your arms around him after a fight, or when you lend him your jacket, or when you finish his assignments without a second thought—that make him wonder if maybe love isn’t supposed to fit into a box at all.
Maybe it’s supposed to be messy.
As he lies next to you in bed that night, your breathing steady and peaceful beside him, he finds himself unable to sleep. He keeps thinking about everything you do for him, the way you make his rigid, rule-bound world feel just a little more flexible.
“I love you,” he whispers into the quiet of the room, his voice barely audible.
You stir beside him, half-asleep, your arm lazily draping over his waist. “Love you too,” you murmur back, voice soft and groggy.
Riddle feels a weight lift off his chest, something warm and sweet settling in its place. He closes his eyes, smiling into the darkness, and for once, he falls asleep with no worries at all. Maybe this is love.
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milkbobatyun · 8 hours
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till death do us part
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pairing: jiaoqiu x gn!reader
genre: fluff, angst
summary: your dream was to be a healer, his was just to follow you, so how did it end up this way?
word count: 1.1k
a/n: wrote this before 2.5 was released (because i loved him the moment i saw his release) , this is just my own headcanon about why jiaoqiu "withdrew from medicine with a broken heart", hope yall enjoy (,, . ̫. ,,)
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for as long as you could remember, a certain, teasing pink furred foxian stuck to your side like a burr. he followed you everywhere, like a shadow, though the jiaoqiu then would protest otherwise. he was your protector, he would huff, cheeks puffed out in indignation.
sometimes, jiaoqiu led you through the warbling creeks and rustling bushes, on a mission to help you find herbs. other times, you led him by the hand, playing general and soldier in the streets. the locals knew, if they wanted to find either of you, spotting the other half of the duo would often lead them to the person they wanted.
your childhood aspiration was to practise medicine and become the best healer, while his was more simple-minded. he just wanted to follow you, to be with you.
“to the ends of the planet?” young jiaoqiu’s head wobbled forwards and back fervently in agreement. “but what if i die?” hearing those words, jiaoqiu’s busy hands froze, eyes growing comically large, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his soft ears flattened against his head in displeasure, sticky fingers reaching out to pinch your baby fat. “no! stop thinking like that!” he chided.
your tinkling laughter hugged his fluffy ears. “im just kidding, no need to look so worried.” you dismissed easily, turning back to sorting your herbs. 
jiaoqiu’s nose crinkled as he looked down at the pile of bitter-smelling herbs, before his shoulders slumped in despair. they all looked the same, how was he ever going to learn them all?
seeing his face, you quietly chuckled into your hand. 
“silly goose!” you teased. “you dont need to study medicine if you find it so hard.”
jiaoqiu pouted, feigning sadness at your teasing, tail drooping sadly towards the floor, a frown surfacing on his face. 
he only hoped that there wouldn’t come a day that he would regret not taking up medicine.
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the wintery cold lingered in the air, jiaoqiu’s sensitive nose picked up the hints of the scent. time had flown by quickly, his initially small and pudgy figure shooting up to an unfair height, his face sharpening, growing into those classic foxian features. it was down right injustice really, how such a man had a wonderful and pleasing face as his.
though you didn’t realise it, your own height had lengthened too. if you asked jiaoqiu, you looked as striking as your youth, if not even more. every time he saw you, his heart would beat quicker. your touch sending sparks flying on his skin, the warmth lingered after your hand was long gone.
jiaoqiu could only thank the aeons that his ears were not the colour of a tomato, though he doubts his soft cheeks could say the same. whenever he saw you, a cloud of red dusted his cheeks.
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the loud, red firecrackers boomed in the courtyard of the yaoqing. cheers of joy and sobs of relief echoed behind.
today was the graduation of the yaoqing healers. after so many years of hard work in the pollen and dust filled cabinets of the yaoqing medicine storage, you were glad to be out of the stuffy old place. 
though jiaoqiu didn’t outwardly express his joy like you, his secretive smile and curved eyes told enough of his happiness. he was proud of you, fearlessly taking on every challenge learning medicine had thrown at you and creating your own solutions.
when you eagerly ran up to him, he engulfed you in his warm embrace, one tooth-achingly sweet grin from you cracking jiaoqiu’s mask, a suppressed grin of amusement and adoration surfacing from beneath. with your signature clap and handshake, the two of you made your way home, you skipping along the path, while jiaoqiu sauntered behind you, listening to your cheerful chatter.
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how did it end up this way? it was supposed to be a routine round…
you were merely assigned to patch up wounded soldiers. so how was it that you were now bloodied, clinging to that thinning thread of life?
the rain poured down, a witness to the tears of jiaoqiu. his arms cradled your fragile body close to his chest, his warmth a campfire that roared against the encroaching cold.
the droplets slapped across your cheeks, a harsh reminder that you were clinging onto the edge of consciousness. the world was a blur of rain and darkness. you were vaguely aware of a warmth pressing against your cheek. you peeled open your tired eyes, trying to gain a sense of where you were. last you remembered, the encampment had been attacked.
“jiaoqiu?” you whispered out feebly, the words barely escaping your lips, which were slowly turning blue. “im cold. i feel so cold… i think im bleeding somewhere, it hurts...” you nestle in towards jiaoqiu’s warmth, seeking warmth as the cold seeped deeper into your bones. “you’re warm…” you trail off, the chattering of your teeth drowning out the rest of your words. your thoughts began to fade away, slowly bleeding out, like the blood from your wound.
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how did it end up this way?
jiaoqiu’s trembling fingertips frantically tapped against your cheek, eyes wide with fear and desperation, in an effort to keep you awake.
you blinked up weakly at jiaoqiu, focusing your energy on staying awake. “jiaoqiu?” you meekly called out. “you look better when you smile, smile for me…please?” you pleaded quietly.
through the raindrops and tears that coated his face, jiaoqiu tried to smile, the corners of his lips twitching into a sad smile. seeing him give you a feeble grin, your face mirrored his, a shallow smile etched on your face.
‘if only i knew how to stop the bleeding…if only i learned, instead of giving up halfway, maybe i could be more use.’ jiaoqiu thought bitterly to himself, scorning his own stupidity.
with an effort, your shaking hand reached up towards jiaoqiu’s face, cradling his cheek. “dont be sad, smile for me. thank you for being with me.” you whispered.
“please dont leave me.” jiaoqiu pleaded, his voice cracking with sadness. “we still have so much to do. you’re gonna be ok.” jiaoqiu chanted the last 5 words like a mantra, a prayer that the aeons turned a deaf ear to.
the surrounding din of the world faded away, your life playing back before your eyes. you thought of all the moments you had shared with this sly foxian, wishing for just one more day, nay, even a second and you would be satisfied. but jiaoqiu was here, holding onto you and that was enough.
a final sighing breath slipped from your lips, your eyes losing their spark. your hand fell away from his cheek, head lolling to the side. in death, you were serene, a faint smile on your face—an angel taken too soon.
the rain fell harder, as though the heavens themselves were mourning your death, while jiaoqiu bowed his head, tears cascading like a waterfall of sorrow.
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taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox
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∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡
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suzukiblu · 16 hours
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Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 
“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 
“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 
“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 
“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 
Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 
A lot. 
“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 
Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 
“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 
“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 
Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  
So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 
Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 
. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 
“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 
“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 
“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 
“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 
God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 
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r3leee · 2 days
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you asked, you shall receive !
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HEY QUEENS!! i am SO sorry for getting this out so late, your girl was going through it 😭😭 (two concerts, two tests, socratic seminar prep, and finding out i’m bi all in one week). anyway, thanks for waiting, here you go <333
pairing: dom!billie eilish x sub!fem!reader
summary: your girlfriend, billie’s, been doing promo work all day for her business trip. naturally, when she gets back, she wants a piece of you, and though you can offer that to her, you have to be quiet…
warnings: RPF!! don’t like, don’t read, established relationship, no direct smut but like a little if you squint (i’m not sure if i’m ready to sail that ship yet), hickeys, exhibitionism kink if you squint, implied-girly/femme!reader
word count: 716 (IT'S SHORT IKKKK I'M SORRY)
listen to: needy by ariana grande
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IF YOU COULD use one word to describe your girlfriend, one of the last things in your mind would be clingy. handsy? yes. possessive? yes. dominant? oh, ya. but clingy? no, not really.
she only ever got like that when she was away from you for a while or really, really horny; today’s case was the latter.
you two were currently in paris for a bit of promo. you both were very happy you were able to be on this trip, since you were usually subjected to staying at home.
the past few days were relatively normal: getting settled in and a photoshoot. but today was more intense.
today, m had multiple photoshoots and an interview. she had to wake up early for them, so by the time you were up, she was gone. instead of heading straight for the studio, you decided to treat yourself a bit.
that morning, you ate at a small café and went shopping at the local stores. you got lots of things: jewelry, makeup, accessories, and of course, clothes.
while in a certain store, you found this gorgeous dress. it was sleeveless and shiny in your favorite color, fit with a bow in the back.
you immediately bought it and changed into it before going to visit your girlfriend.
she was on her break when you walked in, hands riddled with bags galore. when she heard the door open, she looked up, a stern expression on her face, but it immediately softened when she saw you. “hi, sweet girl,” she immediately beamed.
you walked over to her, placing a light kiss to her cheek before she cupped your face and kissed you in the lips. “hi,” you replied softly. she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before you sat on the velvety couch.
“where were you?” you quickly set your bags down, going on about the morning you had. but, she couldn’t help her eyes constantly drifting down to your dress. the way it fit on you, slightly raising up on your thighs was enamoring and she couldn't tear her gaze away.
later, billie was doing a photoshoot as you sat behind the camera and watched. she was stunning with her ocean-blue eyes and long black hair. you weren't aware of it, because, at some point, you had some emails to reply to, but when she wasn't being photographed, she was staring at you. so much so that at some point, the director had to tell her to focus.
that's how you ended up here: in your girlfriend's lap, a hand over your mouth.
“shh…gotta stay quiet, baby, right?” she nodded towards the bathroom.
for this specific trip, like most, you booked a connected room for you two and finneas. but, upon arrival, the staff had informed you there was some kind of plumbing issue in finneas' bathroom, and that the shower there was shut off.
of course, it was unrealistic to make him not shower the whole trip, so right now, he was borrowing yours. you were just wondering why he had to be borrowing it right now
you nodded as she whispered, “good."
at this point, she'd been on you for what, 10 minutes now? you weren't sure how she still had room to keep sucking and marking at your neck, almost similar to a mosquito drawing blood. red and purple hickeys cascaded all over your neck to the point it was almost painful, but you didn't ever tell her to stop. not once. she was too precious for you to tell her no.
every time you heard a noise coming from the bathroom, you turned your head, worried you'd get caught. but, never more than two seconds later, a hand on your jaw would turn you back. "it's fine, baby," billie would whisper. "we're gonna be careful, not get caught," she'd reassure you before attacking your neck again. all you could do was whine.
that was until you heard the door creak open. "fuck." immediately, billie threw a stray blanket over you as she went on her phone. you just stared up at the ceiling.
finneas walked back to his room without a second glance. and as soon as the door shut, your girlfriend took the blanket off you. "come here. we're good now."
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Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 3
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Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader
Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention to you!?
~1.5k words
Read Part 1 + Part 2
Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).
My Masterlist
Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and liked this little series so far! This part reveals more about Y/N’s interests and talents, which she’s afraid to share because she is insecure! But not for long with sweet Jeon Wonwoo around. Also she has a fictional younger sister named Daehee (not after anyone in particular, I just like that name). 😉 These two are so innocent and cute, I’m having such fun writing them! Enjoy!!
Taglist: @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy @sojuxxi  @vixensss @lixisoul99 @mjpark15 @lelsforlino  @neivivenaj  @blvkkeddcc (lmk if you want to be tagged!)
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
“Whoa you’re going all out on that, Y/N—”
Your younger sister, Daehee, had come down for breakfast with her bangs still in curlers, wearing her school uniform shirt over her Hello Kitty pajama pants. She was watching you as you concentrated on preparing various dishes at the stove. A thin omelet, grilled shishito peppers, vegetable tempura; it was pretty simple stuff, but you’d developed an urge to create aesthetically pleasing lunches these days.
You couldn’t really explain it, although somewhere in your heart you knew it probably had something to do with Jeon Wonwoo.
For the past week, Jean Wonwoo had been spending lunch on the roof alone with you.
The two of you barely exchanged words, really. Your longest conversation probably lasted only a few minutes. But not for Wonwoo’s lack of trying! You still wondered why he was spending his lunchtime up there at all—even more so why would he keep trying to strike up conversations with you? You guessed he really was just that nice. But every time you were around him you couldn’t help clamming up somehow.
“Are you in any clubs, Y/N?” he’d asked you the other day, between bites of his kimbap.
“Uh, no...” you answered quietly, your nerves frazzled from your total lack of conversational skills.
“None of them appeal to you?”
“Uh, not really that...” you didn’t know how to answer him. You’d ended up just looking at him blankly, like a fool. However, nothing in his facial expression or his tone made you feel like you had to necessarily come up with an answer... But his gaze was intent, and you found it hard to hold onto for more than about three seconds.
“What do you do for fun? To relax?” he followed up breezily, “You’re the class mystery.”
“Um,” the odd self-consciousness you felt at being called ‘the class mystery’ aside, you couldn’t really think of anything to say to him.
Actually, there was one thing that came to mind... but it wasn’t something you’d ever shared with anyone. Your one ‘hobby.’ Though to you it felt more like... squeezing a stress ball. It was what you did when you needed to turn your brain off.
He wants to know what I do to relax?
You couldn’t say what compelled you, but you pulled out your phone and found the photo album you had saved of your miniature paintings.
You worked with acrylic paint on very small canvasses, using very fine, small brushes to create miniature floral designs, portraits, landscapes... Your style was incredibly detailed. You had hundreds of tiny canvasses in little boxes and frames all over your room. You took pictures of most of these tiny paintings when you finished. You had even recorded a couple of time-lapse videos, showing you creating them in fast motion. You’d never felt compelled to create a social media account to display or monetize them, though. You painted because it was what you had done since you were a preteen—the careful, methodical process of dabbing tiny paintbrushes into your carefully mixed colors, getting the tone and shading of a poppy flower’s petal on a tiny scale just right... For you, creating these paintings was like a meditative practice.
By some stroke of inspiration—or insanity—you handed your phone to Wonwoo. His face became visibly more curious as he took your phone carefully in his hands.
“Wowwww,” Wonwoo said, holding the screen closer to his face. He seemed absorbed in your phone—you even caught him zoom in on a few pictures. You could tell he was looking carefully through the album.
“You’re crazy talented!” he said after a while. He sounded genuinely impressed.
“No, haha,” you somehow laughed, coughed, and gasped at the same time, your heart accelerating out of embarrassment from his compliment.
“No, seriously—Y/N, these are really incredible!” he said. “They’re so detailed, and they’re so small! How do you even do that!?” His eyes were glued to your phone screen. A part of you was screaming inside, why on earth you would show these to him!? and urging you to snatch your phone right out of his hand, throw it over the side of the building even. You couldn’t believe that Wonwoo was seeing this, this... habit. And YOU had been the one to show him, of all things!
“I wouldn’t say they’re ‘incredible,’” you said, filling up with more and more anxiety over coming off as bragging or crossing some social boundary that you shouldn’t have crossed.
Wonwoo finally looked up from the screen, looking directly at you instead. You still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you felt his eyes on you. After a long pause, you dared to glance up at him...
But he quickly looked away from you.
Ugh, I’m probably making him feel like he has to be super nice or something...
“Oh, whoa—a time-lapse?” He said, quickly recovering from the somewhat awkward moment when your eyes had met. But his stumbling across the most recent time-lapse video that you’d made prompted you to snap out of your reverie and bolt to grab your phone out of Wonwoo’s hands.
“Ah, don’t watch that!” you lunged for your phone, but Wonwoo reflexively pulled his hand away, surprised by your reaction but still effortlessly dodging your attempt. He smirked down at you, and your heart almost stopped.
“Why not?” he said, and the deep resonance of his voice made you realize how close your bodies were—you were practically sprawled over him after reaching for your phone, his face just inches from yours...
Your whole body seemed to flush a deep shade of red before you catapulted backward away from him. You could have sworn that you saw that Wonwoo smiling to himself, but you were so flustered and anxious about the way you’d completely invaded his personal space that you couldn’t think straight.
“I won’t watch it,” he said light-heartedly, smiling at you as he tossed your phone back to you. “But you are super talented, Y/N. Painting is such a unique skill, too.”
And just like that, he went back to eating his kimbap like nothing had happened. His relaxed, friendly tone mercifully neutralized the atmosphere, but you just stood there clutching your phone to your chest.
“It’s not that I’m embarrassed,” you started, even though you couldn’t look Wonwoo in the eye, “It’s just—I’ve never shared these paintings with anyone except my family...” Your heart kind of ached for some reason as you said this to Wonwoo, who just continued to look at you in silence. What on earth had compelled you to share that with him?
Agh, say something! You willed for this pause in conversation pass, but it didn’t seem to be budging.
“Thank you for showing me,” Wonwoo said at last. His low, gentle voice seemed to shoot directly into your bloodstream, flushing you an even deeper shade of red than you thought was humanly possible. You looked at him briefly, and something about the way he was looking back at you...  
The moment had played over and over again like a movie in your head for the past few days. The directness of his gaze. The rich, sincere quality of his voice. The way he’d smiled to himself... you couldn’t stop thinking of that particular lunch hour.
Standing at the kitchen counter, Daehee watched you dip veggies in tempura batter and toss them in the pot of hot oil on the stove. You let your mind run through the questions it had been asking all week: why was he spending time with you like this? Did he lose a bet? Is there some kind of hidden camera prank you should be wary of? More than that, why was he being so nice?
“Hellooo, earth to Y/N! I said you’re really going to town on your lunches these days,” Daehee tried again to get a rise out of you.
“Oh,” you said, taking the last piece of tempura squash out of the oil. “I just like experimenting.” You weren’t lying, exactly—you did like exploring all kinds of different food and dishes. Cooking was fun to you, different from the calm of painting.
You would be lying if you said that an added bonus wasn’t Wonwoo noticing and complimenting your work.
You liked it when he praised you. It felt like he meant it.
No one could be that good at faking sincerity, could they?
You couldn’t help but hear that small voice in the back of your head, doubting Wonwoo’s intentions.
But he hadn’t done anything other than come up to the roof during lunch this week, mostly just eating in silence with you—the two of you simply looking out at the sky...
But after you had shown him your paintings...
Maybe it was since then that you had started to put more effort into your lunches.
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fanfic-she-wrote · 2 days
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Second Chances
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(Beetlejuice x Lydia Deetz)
Chapter 1
(Spoilers for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice ⚠️ Do not read if you haven’t seen the movie!)
Chapter 2:
Breakfast was quiet as Astrid and Lydia sat at the table both lost in thought about last night. Lydia was thinking about Betelgeuse and whether or not to contact him. Did he even want to see her? Probably not. She thought mindlessly stirring her cereal around in the bowl with her spoon.
Astrid on the other hand was wondering why her mother was near the attic at all. Was she just going up there to check on things like she said or was she actually going to see Betelgeuse. Why she wanted to she didn’t understand. If only her mother would tell her.
Astrid looked up at Lydia and noticed how far off she looked. Something was bothering her. She opened her mouth, hesitating for a moment to say anything.
“Mom?” She spoke.
Lydia looked up looking almost surprised at the sudden interaction. “Yes?”
“Why were you going up to the attic last night?” She asked, hoping she would give her an honest answer this time. There was a long pause as Lydia was trying to decide exactly how to respond.
“I don’t even know. I just couldn’t get him out of my head.” Lydia finally answered.
“Like he’s haunting you?” Astrid asked, sounding concerned.
“In a sense... it’s like I’m drawn to him. I want to talk to him.” Lydia said looking down at her bowl almost feeling ashamed for wanting to but she couldn’t help it.
Astrid stared at her for a moment trying to process what she had said. She couldn’t believe she would actually want to see him. “Could he be manipulating you somehow?”
She shook her head, no, in response.
“There is just something about him. I can’t explain it but it was different this time. He was different. The ways he helped us out…and even during the wedding he was in a weird, slightly creepy way, kind of sweet.” Lydia admitted.
There was a long pause.
“You must think I’m crazy right?” She murmured still not looking at Astrid.
“Well…I don’t get it but if that’s what you want to do, I support you.” Astrid told her, placing her hand over Lydia’s.
“Thank you.” She said letting out of sigh of relief, grateful her daughter understood.
“Hey if it were me swooning over some dead guy you’d support me too right?” Astrid remarked.
“I am not swooning!” Lydia exclaimed a faint blush forming on her cheeks.
“Sure, sure.” The teen smirked, rolling her eyes jokingly.
—————————
Betelgeuse walked about the tiny model cemetery which he did on occasion, playing over the almost wedding in his mind. He had it planned out so perfectly. He was sure Lydia wouldn’t be able to say no. He did everything Rory didn’t and it still wasn’t good enough. If only she’d give him a chance. Just one kiss and—
Suddenly, he heard the door creak open. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched as Lydia made her way over to the model town. Why was she here? He wondered.
Lydia took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do.
“Beetlejuice.”
The room suddenly became very cold and the drapes fluttered wildly even though the windows weren’t open.
“Beetlejuice.”
The attic became an eerie green color and smoke began to emanate from the model town before her.
“Beetlejuice.”
Then everything went dark and silent. She held her breath, waiting in anticipation.
“You called?” A gruff voice spoke from behind her making her jump in surprise.
“You really need to stop sneaking up on people.” Lydia snapped.
“Hey, it’s what I do.” Betelgeuse shrugged.
“So, what do you want now?” He said trying to sound more indifferent than he felt. Secretly he was glad that he could see her again. He wanted to be mad at her, but couldn’t.
“You.” Lydia answered simply. Betelgeuse looked down at her, stunned at her response. Did he hear he correctly?
He stuck his finger in his ear to clean it out, but instead of earwax he pulled out a little green bug. He flicked it across the room and turned back to Lydia. “Say that again?”
“I want you. Just you.” Lydia clarified.
“Wait? What? Really?!” He asked, perking up. She nodded and gave him a small smile.
Without warning, he pulled her into a hug and spun her around. “I knew you’d come around! You won’t regret it! I’ll-“ She pushed him away and placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.
“I want to go slow.” She told him. “I won’t send you back, but you have to promise to behave.”
Betelgeuse nodded his head in agreement. “I’ll try, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up babe.”
“Beetlejuice!”
“Eeeee! Ok, ok! I’ll behave.” He exclaimed with a flinch.
“Good!” Lydia smiled, satisfied with herself and turned back towards the door, Betelgeuse following her.
“What about a little mischief? Maybe scaring the occasional Jehovah’s witness?” He asked hopefully.
“Nope.”
“Aww cmon, ya gotta work with me here! I can’t just quit cold turkey.” Betelgeuse insisted half jokingly.
“I’m serious. I’ll send you back.” Lydia assured him.
He let out a defeated sigh. “Ok, ok fine. I can do this…but only for you.” He said pointing towards her.
Lydia’s heart skipped a beat repeating what he said over in her mind. “Only for you.”
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Just One Reason: A Walk in the Park
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Lloyd Hansen
masterlist - to be added
Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You push through the door of the lobby and hold it open for the elder woman hunched over her walker. You patiently let her through but she doesn’t even acknowledge your deed. It’s too bad that most times you help people, you don’t even seem to notice. That’s fine. You’d feel worse to see her struggle. 
She heads for the outer door but before you can rush over to get that too, someone else does. You blanch as you recognise the man with the bristly mustache. It’s Lloyd. You haven’t seen or heard from him in the week since the sandwich shop encounter. You just assumed it was another random crossing of wires. 
The woman mutters as she passes through the door and his cheek twitches as he waits until he’s through to let go. He shakes his head and turns to you, “there ya are. Didn’t know your unit so kinda just been hanging around.” 
You blink, “you’ve been waiting on me?” 
“That lady was a grouch, huh? Not even a thanks. Telling ya, tootsie roll, you’re too sweet,” he says. That pet name is cute but a bit much. 
“Um, yeah, but she’s probably in a lot of pain. Maybe one day I’ll be in the same way and someone will hold the door for me,” you shrug. “But uh, why exactly are you waiting in my lobby?” 
“Friends stop by to say hello, don’t they?” He grins.  
“Sure, but uh...” 
“You said we’re friends so... did I misread this? Were you just being nice? The way you do, huh? Because lying isn’t very nice, tootsie.” 
You shake your head, “no, I just... I don’t know. I’m surprised. That’s all.” 
“Good surprise?” He lifts a brow. 
“Yeah, of course,” you squeak. 
“Mm, and where are you off too, besides helping little old ladies?” He challenges. 
“Just going for a walk. I like to walk through Garnet.” 
“Garnet? You mean the sh—the path down there?” He points to the wall and you nod. 
“They have pretty flowers.” 
“It’s... almost winter,” he sniffs. 
“Yeah, I know. I like it though. There’s still ducks around.” 
He nods, his eyes narrowed discerningly, “you always see the silver linings, don’t ya?” 
“I try,” you shrug. 
“Well, can I crash your walk? Could stand to stretch my legs.” 
You nod and hum, “that’s fine.” 
“Just fine?” 
“Lloyd,” you give him a look, “you’re more than welcome to walk with me.” 
You tuck your earbud case away. The left one is broken anyhow. He pulls the door open again and waves you out. 
He follows and catches up to you on the sidewalk. You walk down the pavement and breathe in the brisk air. You fix your beanie over your ears and slip your hands up your sleeves as you cross your arms. 
“Damn cold, isn’t it?” He puffs a cloud of steam into the air. 
“I can’t wait for the snow,” you say.  
Your father always loved the wintertime. You would watch the flakes drift down and build a snowman, even a tiny one if there wasn’t very much, and you’d have hot chocolate on the porch in your mittens and pajamas. And Christmas... 
You push away that thought. 
“You’re quiet? You alright?” He nudges you with his elbow. You flinch. You forgot he was there for a second. 
“I’m wonderful. How are you? How’s your ear?” 
“My ear...” he echoes. “You remember?” 
“Did you get it looked at? Does it still hurt?” 
“Yeah, it’s alright. Still a bit fuzzy on that side,” he shrugs. “It’s whatever. I’m a big boy.” 
“Right, but did a doctor say so or--” 
“You worry about me that much, tootsie?” He scoffs. 
“It’s important. You never know, could be worse than you think. And if it’s nothing at all, at least you know,” you say. You don’t want to nag him, even if you should have nagged your dad. Maybe... 
“No, I didn’t. Really, it’s not the first time I got a good blast to the ear,” he says. 
“Right,” you accept as you turn through the gate to the park. The arch is missing letters but it’s still beautiful. 
He sighs again and rubs his hands together. “God, I hate the cold.” 
“You should get gloves,” you uncross your arms and reach into your pocket, “I don’t know, mine might be too small.” 
You offer him the woolly mittens. He clicks his tongue, “that’s cute, definitely too small.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and chatters. You look at his jacket. You try to see the inside above the collar. “What are you doing?” He glances at you from the corner of his eye. 
“Is that lined?” You ask. 
“What?” 
“Your coat. Is there a lining in it? It looks thin.” 
“I’m just fine, mom, thanks,” he snips sharply. 
“Gosh, sorry, I just... I could sew a lining into it. I replaced the inserts in my boots too. It’s not that hard.” 
He furrows his brow, “it’s whatever. I spend most of the winter south. Right by the equator where it’s nice and sunny.” 
“Ooo, that sounds cool,” you say. “By the ocean?” 
“Surrounded by it,” he says nonchalantly. 
“Wow. I’ve never seen the ocean.” 
“You haven’t... tootsie, what’re ya doin’ to me? You’re lying.” 
“Nope,” you shake your head. “I’m sure one day I will. Is it pretty?” 
He looks at you and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, “yeah, it’s... beautiful,” he looks ahead thoughtfully. “Guess I should pay more attention, but yeah, real blue and big and sh—stuff.” 
You bounce on your feet and stop suddenly. You hit his arm and point, “don’t scare him.” 
He nearly trips as you gesture to the little chipmunk on the broken bench. You can’t help a squee as it skitters onto the seat and glances around nervously. You squeeze Lloyd’s sleeve without thinking. 
“He’s so c-y-ute!” You say, “isn’t he?” 
He doesn’t answer right away but you’re too enamoured with the tiny critter to care. 
“Yea, super cute,” he agrees at last. 
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ripdragonbeans · 1 day
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Bonded To Dragons
Chapter 1: Meeting Your Bonded
Warnings: None
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Finally, after years of wondering, at the age of twenty-two, you were going to meet your Bonded. Finding out you were a Central was a surprise to you and your family. Finding out who you were Bonded to was even moreso. You shook out your hands, trying to keep them dry from the clamminess that now coated them. It was nerve wracking, meeting your Bonded. Their lives were tied to yours. It’s instinct for them to do anything to protect you. You could only hope that they felt the same way and it wasn’t only just instinct fueling them. Sometimes, finding a genuine connection within a Bonded Circle could be hard. You refused for yours to be a forced one. You wanted yours to be genuine, full of trust and respect for each other.
As you approached the door that led to your Bonded, you took one last deep breath before opening it.
You entered a cold room to find your three Bonded waiting for you. Aemond, Aegon, and Jace. All three of them were slouched in a chair doing one thing or another to pass the time. One of them was tall and lanky with long silver blond hair and an eye patch. His eye snapped to yours the moment you walked in. His stare was so intimidating that you had to look away. You focused on one of the other guys. There was another with shoulder length silver blind hair. One leg was crossed over the other and he lounged on his phone scrolling through what looked like a dating app. The thought of one of you Bonded on a date with someone irked you but you let it slide for now. The only one without silver blind hair sat a little straighter. When his eyes locked onto yours, you felt yourself relax. You could do this.
“Hi, I'm -”
“We know who you are, Byka Zaldrīzes,” said the long haired one. He didn't look up from his phone or even get up from his chair.
“Why did you call me little dragon?” You asked him.
“I'm impressed you know High Valyrian. And to answer your question,” he hummed. “Because you're ours.”
You crossed your arms and lifted your chin up high. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
“And that's where you're wrong, Byka Zaldrīzes. You're our Central. It's our job to take care of you.” His violet eye bore into yours.
So this is what it would be like to be a Central with these three. Constantly coddled by one man while the other two just do their own thing. Of course this is how the Targaryen Bond Circle would be. Hoping things would get better, you muttered words of annoyance under your breath as you walked to the other side of the room.
The one with curly dark brown hair got up and brushed his hands on his jeans before walking up to you. His eyes were a beautiful brown and had small flecks of gold in them. He flashed you a smile as he approached you.
“My name’s Jacaerys but you can call me Jace.” He put a fist over his heart and bowed slightly. “I promise to protect you with my life. I am honored to be your Bonded.” He took your hand in his and brushed his lips against your knuckles.
Your breath caught in your throat at the vow. No one has ever been this loyal to you yet here someone was, pledging their life to yours.
“Th- Thank you, Jace. That is very sweet of you. And I promise to protect your life with my own as well,” you said quickly without thinking.
Someone growled behind you. “There will be no promise of the sort.”
Annoyance started to tickle your nose.
“And why is that?” You turned to face the voice. It was the long haired one again. The one with an eye patch.
“Once again, it is us, the Bonded, who protect the Central. It is not the other way around.” He stared at you fiercely as though he was asking you to challenge him.
“I'm going to assume you are Aemond,” you said. “The one who knows everything. I am sorry to say, however, you don't know me or what I'm capable of.”
“You'd be surprised to know what I know, Byka Zaldrīzes.” Aemond got up and circled you with his hands behind his back. He observed you as one would observe an insect or a science experiment.. “Do you know why I call you little dragon?”
“You said you call me that because, according to you, I’m yours.”
“You are. And you are just that, a dragon. Just like me and my brother here, the one who hasn't even looked up,” Aemond paused to smack the last one in the chair. “You're a dragon shifter.”
You scoffed. “How can you be so sure? We just met.”
“Every Targaryen bonded group has been a group of dragon shifters. We're revered throughout the community. We're wanted, desired. You are one of the lucky ones.” He cast a sideways glance at Jace. “And him, too.”
“Of course I'm a dragon shifter,” said Jace. He puffed up his chest. “My mother is a Targaryen. She's a dragon shifter so I am as well. I didn't need to be put into a Targaryen Bond Circle to know that.”
“Some of us aren't that fortunate to already have the knowledge,” you muttered.
Jace’s eyes went wide. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I'm sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I forget that your power isn't something you're automatically told once it's known sometimes. My family was always big on telling us so we could work on honing our skills.”
“I wish my parents were like that,” you said wistfully. “Up until Aemond said anything, I never even thought about possibly being a dragon shifter. But being your Central, it would make sense.”
You thought of your family, what your father might be thinking now, how proud he would be to learn his daughter is a dragon shifter. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes at the thought of him, the only one in your family still alive due to the war. For him you’d see this through.
“Are we done here?” complained the other silver headed one.
“You haven’t even introduced yourself and yet you want to leave?” Aemond asked his brother.
“Yeah, I got a hot date in a few hours!” he insisted.
Anger ran through your veins. “Hot date? You have a Central Bond. Me.”
None of your Bonded would touch another so intimately except for you. You didn’t want to act rash or stupid, but it was part of being a Bonded. It was part of that primal part of you. No one touched your Bonded. The mere thought of Aegon being with someone else made your blood boil.
“Ah, yes, how could I forget?” Aegon finally looked up at you. He gave you one glance over before turning back to his phone. “You’re cute but I’m not giving up my social life for you.”
Aemond smacked his brother on the side of his head. “You are one of her Bonded and you will respect her.”
“I’ll respect her but I’m not gonna lose out on any hotties because of our Bond.”
“So,” you piped up, “you wouldn’t mind if I slept with any other guy?”
Jace and Aemond immediately turned to you, eyes ablaze.
“You will do no such thing,” growled Aemond.
Aegon shrugged but you could see the uneasiness in his eyes.
You took a step towards him. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You know the thought of me being with another guy drives you up a wall. If you’re gonna fuck with anyone, it’s gonna be me.”
Hot tension suddenly filled the room. Aemond gripped the chair closest to him as Jace took three long strides to get to you. He pulled you into his side and ran his nose up the length of your neck.
“I won’t push you,” Jace whispered in your ear, “but know that I am more than ready for us to complete our Bond.”
A shiver went up your spine at his words.
Jace backed away and Aemond was quick to take his place. He pulled you in tight with a hand around your waist. He cupped your face with his free hand and placed a whisper of a kiss over your lips. “I will always be yours. Now and forever. Say the word and we’ll complete our Bond.”
All you could do was nod at his words. You wanted to pull him closer, hell, you wanted to complete the bond right then and there. Instead, you brushed your lips against his, like he did to you, then took a step back.
“So it’s settled then. We’re the Targaryen Bond Circle.”
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A few hours later, the four of you sat at a cafe. It was purely to get to know each other and to strengthen the Bonds between you all. No powers, no shifting, just four people out for the day together.
“I’d like to spend the next few days getting to know you guys better,” you told them. “Maybe I could spend one day with one of you over the next three days? Like tomorrow I’ll spend all day with Jace?”
“That works for me,” said Jace. He covered your hand with his and gave you a small smile.
Out of the three of your Bonded, Jace has been the sweetest. He was careful not to push any boundaries but you also assured him there were very few. The primal need of the Bond wanted you to be as physically close to all three of them as possible and Jace was more than happy to take that up. He always had a hand on or around you.
Being with your Bonded has brought a sense of calm to you that you’ve never felt before. You felt almost complete. You knew as soon as all three of the Bonds were completed, everything would fall into place and feel perfectly. But until then this was more than enough to make you happy.
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14-crush · 15 hours
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hm, first I want to say thanks! Yumis dub of 14-crush is why I started using tumbler and I've made so many friends from this site. Second, did you ever think more about your Agent 4 for 14-crush? just came to mind since their last message thing was more about Ahato so I've been wondering about them a bit
yeah, i guess i did make her part still mostly revolve around ahato, huh...
i guess i didnt get the chance to portray this very well, but Four is the kind of person who, as much as she teases her friends, is always trying to lift everyone's spirits. she's a little too impulsive, though, so sometimes she screws up and accidentally hurts someone's feelings. or, in the case of that general part of the story, ends up rushing the group into something that ended up being really distressing for one of her friends.
and whenever she screws up like that, she starts feeling really, really really really guilty. like way more than is necessary, a lot of the time. i'm pretty sure i have drafts from before Crush got on "indefinite hiatus" showing her grappling with this guilt more Somewhere in one of my old sketchbooks, but because things ended up getting cut short, i ended up only showing the resolution.
so i guess my answer is... four's a really sweet and playful person with really big feelings! she's always trying to understand people better but sometimes she misses the mark a little bit. next time i come back to make a short story/comic it oughta involve her, i think. i hope it didnt come off like i don't care about her as much.
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r0seb100d · 22 hours
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PLEASE DO A FLUFFY DALLAS X READER CUDDLING ONESHOT WHERE THEY JUST KISS AND CUDDLE AND LOVE EACHOTHER AND JUST FLUFFFF
Hello! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy <3 🤍
Warnings: fem!reader, fluff, kissing.
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Oh, be my once in a lifetime
Though the muffled echo of Hank Williams playing downstairs from Buck’s bar was mildly irritating, especially at 10 p.m., the steady rhythm of Dallas’ heartbeat as y/n lay on his chest felt like home.
Dallas was running his fingers through her silky hair, his nails gently grazing her scalp, causing y/n to press herself closer to him. 
“Feels nice.” She mumbled into his chest. He smirked slightly, glancing down at her, also loving how relaxing it felt to just lay like this after an exhausting day.
“Oh yeah?” His tone was half curious, half teasing.
“Mhm.” Y/n ran her cherry-red nails up his chest, reaching to play with his St. Christopher chain, twirling it between her fingers, admiring its faded silver, so worn out from being used as a lighter for his matches; she couldn’t deny that she found that habit sort of sweet and amusing, even though smoking was more than gross to her. 
The tickle of her fingers against his chest sent a shiver through Dallas’ body, and he shifted slightly before reaching behind and pulling the chain off. Y/n sat up in confusion, gazing at his beautiful moonlit face, wondering what he was doing; maybe it was uncomfortable and he wanted to take it off.
“Come closer, doll.” He gestured towards her. She leaned in, and he placed the chain around her neck. The small action made her heart melt, and she reached up to touch it gently. 
“Keep it; it tells all those other guys that you’re my girl.” Heat rose to her cheeks, leaving a rosy hue that Dallas found adorable.
“Thanks Dal.” His hands found their place on his waist, and he pulled her back onto him, but this time capturing her lips in a soft kiss. She smiled and hummed into the kiss, their lips gliding over each other so perfectly y/n could have sworn she felt her heart jump in her chest. They finally pulled away breathless, lips swollen and hair mussed. 
Dallas pulled her in even closer, his back resting on the oak headboard of his bed, with her straddling his stomach, and he could feel the warmth of her soft cotton pyjamas on his bare skin.
Reaching for his Christopher, he used it to tug her in once more. Y/n let out a small laugh as he did so, and Dallas couldn’t help but smile too, her laughter so adorable and contagious. He kissed her more passionately this time, running his rough hands along her smooth skin, feeling every curve and dip that he was determined to memorise for as long as he lived. 
Suddenly, she pulled away with an irritated huff. 
“What’s wrong?” His brows were knit together as he tried to figure out what was bothering her. 
“It’s that stupid music.” She pouted,
“It’s ruining our moment.” He laughed at her comment, not totally disagreeing with her; however, when she attempted to get up to play something on the little radio he had in his room, Dallas was quick to wrap his arm around her waist and playfully yank her back to him. Laughing, y/n tried to pull away from him, desperately wanting to change the music, but he was much stronger than her, and he flipped them over so he was hovering over her, the both of them laughing.
“Dallas stop! I need to get up.” 
“No way, you’re warm, and I don’t want you to.”
“Stop being silly; I’ll be back in one second.” She stuck her tongue out at him. At this, Dallas began to tickle her sides, causing her to burst out into breathless giggles and squeals as she squirmed beneath him.
“Stop! I promise I won’t get up!”
 “Promise?” 
"Yes, I promise.” He began to pepper her face with small kisses, still set on teasing her as much as he could, loving the sound of her laughter and the sweet taste of her lips. Dallas lay down beside her and pulled her in close to him, but as he adjusted his position slightly, y/n took this as a chance to sneak out of his grasp and run towards the radio, flicking on a random station, leading the room to be filled with a Beach Boys song. 
“There. much better.” What she didn’t realise is that Dallas was standing right behind her, and as she began to turn around, he swiftly lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing.Her heart was racing in her chest. 
"Hey, you promised.” Y/n bit down on her lip, holding in a grin. Moments like these with him were the best. Moments where they could just be themselves together. She tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear and gave him a long, deep kiss, wrapping her legs around him, tugging on his hair softly as he gripped her thighs.
“You’re forgiven.” He whispered as he led her back to the bed, so they could lay together again.
♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
౨ৎ 824 words ౨ৎ
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maikissed · 2 days
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cherry flavoured lips part 3
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Kylian Mbappé x reader
And there was one, very disturbing truth behind anger taking over Kylian’s common-sense: he turned wrathful and dangerous. warnings: none
Previous parts: part 1, part 2
Bon appétit!
“Hello, you” Gia beamed as soon as she opened the door before his eyes with a quick swing.
He greeted his friend with his most charming and bright smile, the sound of music coming from behind her was subtle, a sign that the party was yet about to start. Most of the time he made an appearance closer to it’s end than beginning, but there was something he anticipated way too much to delay his arrival. Gia eyed him mysteriously, with a glint of amusement painting on her face, and took a step to the side to let Kylian in.
“Happy birthday” he leaned to her to press a quick kiss on her cheek “Hope you stay such a wonderful and sweet person for another year” he smirked while pulling away, handing her a little gift bag for the occasion.
Gia snorted with a frown at his sarcastic wishes, voicing out a honey coated thank you as she accepted his present.
“Good thing you are at least good at buying gifts, though” she laughed turning around and taking his arm to lead him inside her apartment.
“I have to be honest, y/n always helped me pick them out, but this year I was on my own” he muttered eyeing the surroundings, already spotting few familiar faces.
Gia hummed at this information, not actually giving him a sign that she might be disappointed in a poorer choice of a birthday gift for her, but more thoughtfully, wondering about something that appeared in her mind. She stopped suddenly, facing him, her facial expression unreadable.
“She is here with her new tidy and well-mannered boyfriend. He’s British, you know” the way she articulated this sentence made his lips twist in a mocking smile “She didn’t tell me much, but the way things took turn between both of you worries me” one of her brows shot up as she peered at him. He knew she expected for him to clue her in to it.
“Kyliaaaaan!” there was a call from behind him, more like a roar to be honest, and he gladly turned away from Gia to greet his friend Remy. He could sense Gia’s annoyance at breaking her little investigation “Long time no see, you handsome beast” Remy laughed pulling Kylian into a tight hug “You gotta keep up, I’ll make you something to drink” and with this last sentence Remy pulled him in the direction of the bar, leaving Gia frustrated and annoyed. She turned to find y/n.
He spotted her among the crowd not so long later, and despite being surrounded by many of his good friends he haven’t seen for quite some time, he could not tear his eyes away from her and this new addition of hers, smiling politely at everyone they made the tiniest conversation with. The guy was tall, just a little scrawny though, he admitted he was good looking just enough, hair perfectly styled, a dirty blonde. But nothing really admirable, he concluded. Nevertheless there he was, standing next to her, close, very close, his arm wrapped around her waist, his palm gently caressing her side, tenderly and affectionately, Kylian was eyeing the movements of his hand along her body way too attentive. It did make him feel uncomfortable, he moved his fingers up his shirt to undo a few buttons, since he registered something growing painfully inside his gullet. The sour taste of whiskey was turning it even worse but he could not stop from sipping it. There were words around him, some questions, he believed he answered a few of them, but his mind was absent, focused on a scene few meters away. Y/n laughed, gazing up at her companion, her eyes pretty and sparkly, her hair styled different tonight, wavy and wild. Beautiful. Truthfully he did not expect her to attend with him tonight, at some point he somehow forgot about this new revelation, maybe even blocked it from being true in his mind. But right now he kept observing them together from the distance, many restless thoughts raging through his head. They truly seemed close, did he have her already? Did she fuck him? Did she enjoy it? Are they going to fuck tonight? Do they spend every night together? What the fuck? He could not believe everything that was happening right now. Anger started to take over him. And there was one, very disturbing truth behind anger taking over Kylian’s common-sense: he turned wrathful and dangerous.
-
“Are you going to introduce me?” Ian whispered in y/n’s ear, she stiffened for a moment wondering about how to escape this situation. She smiled timidly at him, taking a quick look in Kylian’s direction.
Of course she could not omit to mention about being friends with the Kylian Mbappé himself, because pressing on the lies would not do her good in her very first serious relationship. But Ian did not know how far their friendship went and she could not block her fears about the very first interaction with Kylian after they parted so coldly and unpleasantly few months ago. She was such a coward. But she could not hide the fact that she missed him.
And there was no point in opposing, it might wake some doubts and even suspicions in Ian so she agreed, nodding with a smile, and taking his hand with intention to approach Kylian. Few more steps his way and she was heavily fighting the urge to run away from here as fast as she could. Kylian noticed her in no time, a very dark but delightful smile appearing on his face as he looked at her, just at her.
“Hi” she called, rather stiffly, but she greeted him with a kind smile. He still did not look in Ian’s direction.
Kylian leaned into her, close, with aim to greet with her, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek and she felt hot and nervous. A normal greeting, as she did with every other friend present here. Nothing weird, nothing suspicious, still her legs turned weak. He said hi back as he straightened up.
“I wanted to introduce you my…” she started in English, something heavy, like a bile, or more like a stone, appeared in her throat and blocked her voice from coming out, she could not fathom why, but she swallowed heavily and added quickly: “My boyfriend, Ian”
That’s when he finally looked at him.
“Ian. Nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan” Ian added, calm and collected, with a subtle accent, he truly seemed nice.
“Kylian” he shook his stretched out hand and y/n let out a big breath of relief “Appreciate it”
“I was really surprised when y/n mentioned you guys are acquainted” Ian continued and Kylian smirked scoffingly at his choice of words. Y/n actually went pale.
“Oh, that’s how she put it?” Kylian asked, his eyes beaming playfully as he looked down at her “In fact, we know each other since diapers, our mothers are very close friends” he said nonchalantly before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip of his drink.
Ian peeked quickly at y/n, a sign that confirmed Kylian’s suspicions that she skimped on stories about him and how long they knew each other. And definitely skipped crucial elements regarding their long time friendship. It should make him feel downhearted, it did deep down, but he was not paying attention to it now. He was determined to prove something here, using nothing but the truth.
Although Ian did not come off perplexed at this information. His expression cool and relaxed.
“That’s great” Ian nodded “You guys go way back”
“Oh, we do” Kylian hummed, his gaze traveling back to her “Don’t worry, chérie, I am not going to embarrass you with stories, at least not so soon” a cocky smirk appearing on his lips.
And she frowned delicately, for his eyes only to see, because she guessed that the meaning hidden behind these words was not really innocent. Ian chuckled, but she could sense that he preferred to change the subject.
“You play a game this Sunday, we will stay in Paris for few more days, I was discussing it with y/n, that we should definitely buy tickets to see it”.
Yes, such conversation has taken place, but right now y/n had doubts if it was such a good idea. She hoped Ian would forget, she had various ideas about many other plans for them for this week, just to make him forget about attending the closest PSG game.
“Oh, that’s a fantastic idea” Kylian politely agreed “It’s been a long time since you last came to see me play” he turned to her, his attitude friendly and amiable, but by some means she sensed a ruse hiding beneath it all.
She was not exactly sure why she was so reluctant in this encounter. It was truly a pleasant and nice conversation they had, but she knew Kylian, she knew she hurt him, she could see it deep in his eyes.
“I’ll send you tickets, how about that?” he proposed generously.
Strange feelings enveloped y/n in a few seconds, it came out of nowhere, she did not expect it, the conversation started to fade around her suddenly. A heavy burden fell upon her shoulders quickly, like a lightning striking just beneath her feet. She started to fight for the next breath, an alarming sensation, like she was about to faint in any second now. It terrified her, strong and cold chills ran across her whole body and she muttered a fast apology, informing that she needs to find a bathroom. And she left them alone, with no second thought if it was a good idea. She did not care, she needed some time alone. She almost ran in the opposite direction, not very much focused about where she was heading. She realised she ended in Gia’s room. The noisiness of music and conversation fading in the quiet room. She rested on the closest armchair, trying to calm her nerves and shaking hands. Was she experiencing a panic attack? She wasn’t sure, she never had one before. She breathed a sing of relief as her mind started to slow down, quieting down. Looking at the shelf to her right she spotted a collection of pictures collected upon it and stood up when she noticed a few that she recognized and remembered. Gia loved stacking memories with pictures, the collection was quite impressive. Some hanged on strings along the walls of her room, other framed prettily on the shelves. A specific one caught her attention and she approached it, spotting a photo taken at one of Gia’s Christmas parties. It was her and Kylian. He was seated on a chair, looking to the side and up at her as she stood above him, her fingers delicately grazing his chin from behind, she was laughing at something, looking at him, he was smiling softly at her. She took in their appearance, scoffing at the sight of her long, colourful nails, now shorter and elegant. They both looked careless and so young, so unburdened. But what caught her attention the most was the colour of Kylian’s hair, he dyed it white at the time, and despite the fact that she was immensely drunk that night, she remembered it so well. And she remembered she used to not be so innocent as well.
-December, 2017-
“Ky!” she called as soon as she noticed him enter with a few of his friends. She was anticipating him for a whole evening. And he was always late, she was embittered, she loved partying with him and he always made her wait for him “You can take off that beanie now, it is not snowing inside” she snickered noticing him wearing a ridiculous headgear in a covered room. Was this a new style now or what?
She approached him closely, rather wobbly due to the amount of alcohol she has already poured into herself, reaching for his hat, but he shifted swiftly to avoid her reaching hand. She frowned, visibly surprised. She noticed a mysterious smile on Tchaga’s face from behind him. Interesting, he was wearing a similar hat as well.
“What is it now? Are you hiding something there?” she asked playfully, still trying to snatch the hat off his head. She was truly determined.
“Don’t” he warned, his lips stretching into a little smile and she giggled.
“Let me see” she whined, still putting up a little fight with him. But she was drunk and he was way too sober and strong for her. He grabbed her sides to steady her “You did something with your hair, didn’t you?” she laughed, excitement gushing out from her “Show me!”
“No, I did not” he opposed with an accusatory expression. Oh, he would not give her shit now. She knew he was lying. And it made her even more excited now “I’m just comfortable like this” he commented.
And she was a smart girl, that she was, so she shrugged as a sign of finally giving up, stepping away from him, making his grip on her loosening. And that was when he lost with her. She still had it in her to be clever enough and quickly reached for the hat, taking it off him in a swift move. He groaned trying to get his hat back, one hand on her waist, another gripped the forearm of the hand holding his beanie. But it was too late already, she could see it now. She did not laugh, she did not appear much surprised. She just gazed up at him, her eyes round and big as she took in his appearance. He looked like he expected some form of stronger reaction from her. She swayed in his hold.
“It’s white” she stated and he smirked in amusement at this obvious conclusion.
Was he about to make fun of her now? Looked like it.
“It’s cool, it’s hot” she emphasized, still mesmerised at the sight of him “Suits you”
“Yeah? You like it?” he chuckled, because she truly must have looked funny, so serious and so stunned.
“Mhm” she nodded “It’s sexy” she added, noticing the playfulness disappearing in his eyes, making room for something closer to curiosity now, with a bit of more intensity as he looked at her.
She was young, and she was wild, drunk, carefree and absolutely… hot right now. So many concerning feelings she had for him this whole time now dangerously skyrocketed. She realised she stood there awkwardly, trying to keep herself straight, trying to calm her racing heart, calm the drive awaken in her. She was turned on. Irrationally, rabidly turned on by her friend. She wanted to climb him. Oh, fuck. She was so drunk and as it turned out - horny. And so, so stupid.
“Alright” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. Oh fuck, fuck! “How many drinks did you have, ma chérie?”
“A few” she choked out nervously after few seconds.
“I see” he nodded, still holding her close “Want me to take you home now?” his eyes… stood out much more now in contrast with his hair. Dark, enchanting.
Oh no, don’t talk to me like that, a little voice screamed inside her head. She was close to a tremendous break out, close to doing something foolish. She could not trust herself if they were to be alone.
“Just one more hour?” she managed to say and he accepted her proposition, swearing to keep her close to himself for the rest of the night to make sure she would not drink too much anymore. For her own good.
He was being a good friend. She began experiencing torture.
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seiwas · 6 months
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I just read your latest Nanami piece and I was in complete and absolute awe. You write beautifully!
I’d like to ask what are your favorite books and authors.
hi there! thanks so much for taking the time to read that lil piece of mine, and for letting me know how you feel about it too!! i am so touched 🥺 i'm glad you liked it 🥺
and omg i may disappoint you here, but i don't actually read a lot of books 😭 i haven't picked one up in a while 🥺 i used to read a lot of self-help and memoir type books though! and one of the ones that i remember really liking is 'when breath becomes air' by paul kalanithi.
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masquenoire · 12 days
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Barring any new asks, I think that's the last of those 'icons only' memes and it was very fun doing them all! Thank you so much for sending them in everyone, I'm feeling more confident about activity again and will hopefully be inspired to write a bit more often from now on providing schedule eases up sometime soon!
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