#──★ gemstones

[beausling]

DOLLY I AM ACTUALLY SCREECHING RNN OMFGG

IM GONNA BE FUCKING THEM ALL🤗🤗

✩ ₊ ˚ . ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤgemstone ! readers ♡

there are girls who are forged into what they are today, and girls who become it on their own, with a little push in the direction to make them shine and glimmer as they do. sometimes, there are girls who are both; forged into the person they become, and beautiful as ever when they reach their true potential.

ㅤ ㅤㅤ6 MINI SERIES ─ 6 !READERS ─ 9 MEN . . . TO BE RELEASED AS FINISHED.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤamethyst !ㅤㅤㅤㅤ༻ੈㅤ✩ㅤ‧ㅤ₊ㅤ˚

kryptonian ! reader !! made up of lightning and storm; the girl who stole jason teague's heart and captures clark kent's along the way, with a little bit of malice woven into it. find 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝓎𝓈𝓉 in SMALLVILLE'S MOST WANTED. ✩ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤforged with . . . royalty, wisdom, peace, protection.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤopal !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ༻ੈㅤ✩ㅤ‧ㅤ₊ㅤ˚

supe ! reader !! embedded into your dreams and kinetic to your mind and subconscious; soldier boy's one saving grace and safe place in the russian laboratories. find 𝑜𝓅𝒶𝓁 in DREAM STATE. ✩ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤforged with . . . hope, purity, good luck, fidelity.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤaquamarine !ㅤㅤ༻ੈㅤ✩ㅤ‧ㅤ₊ㅤ˚

mermaid ! reader !! things were always a little odd in outer banks, though no one was more privy to it than your family & their secret life. apple of jj maybank's eye, and thorn in rafe cameron's side. find 𝒶𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 in JUST ADD WATER. ✩ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤforged with . . . serenity, harmony, balance, tranquility.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdiamond !ㅤㅤㅤㅤ༻ੈㅤ✩ㅤ‧ㅤ₊ㅤ˚

starlet ! reader !! hollywood's most infamous actress, an icon of our present time and a permanent figure in the decades before. jensen ackles's most beloved wife. find 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹 in THE SIX WIVES of JENSEN ACKLES. ✩ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤforged with . . . love, strength, eternal beauty, luxury.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤemerald !ㅤㅤㅤㅤ༻ੈㅤ✩ㅤ‧ㅤ₊ㅤ˚

best friend ! reader !! the world has fallen apart, leaving few sane people left amongst a mix of dead and decay. dean winchester's first love and daryl dixon's willing liability. find 𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁𝒹 in SERENDIPITY. ✩ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤforged with . . . rebirth, security, growth, prosperity.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤruby !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ༻ੈㅤ✩ㅤ‧ㅤ₊ㅤ˚

jailbird ! reader !! someone with more secrets than memories, it's no coincidence that you wind up in the world of underground street racing. jason todd's worst nightmare. find 𝓇𝓊𝒷𝓎 in SHUT UP & DRIVE. ✩ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤforged with . . . passion, wealth, vitality, success.

notes. ! reader series my beloveds !!! so excited to write 4 all of these <3 i will post each of the lil mini series as they finish and in the same time frame so there will be no waiting for me to wrap it up in 5 business months LOL JFKLSDJ pls lmk if u are excited about any of them in particular so i can prioritize them <3 !! love u all

tags. @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @sunsettsam @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @couturewinx @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @angelicalm3ss @nperoconelcositoarriba @impala67rollingthroughtown

[luvfy0dor]

“And My Daddy Tells Me I Light Up His World ♡” Dad!Bsd Drabbles ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Warnings; Line breaks between indented paragraphs mean new scenarios, girl dads, d/n- daughters name, s/n-sons name, p/t-parental title for reader

Description; a couple different scenarios, 2 for Fyodor, 1 for Dazai, 1 for Chuuya

A/n; just so u guys do know I giggle every single time I type out d/n, also also I've got a req still about dad Fyodor in my inbox but I don't know why it's so hard for me to write it 3: I'll get it out ong, im so sorry dad fyodor anon </3 consider this tribute to you 3: also next post's gonna be for the event! Had to rewrite it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Fyodor stood in the kitchen, accompanied by his young daughter sitting at the dining table. In his hand was a letter to Nikolai, written a week ago that he had finally decided to mail. He grabs an envelope before rummaging through drawers while his daughter colors idly across the room. She peers up at him from her spot and hops out of her chair, coloring paper in hand. "what're you looking for, papa?" She asks, looking up at him with her e/c eyes, the ones that matched yours perfectly. He smiled at her and closed the drawer he was looking through. "Just a pen, malyshka. Do you know where I could find one?" He asks her, looking down at her. She nods and fetches one of the pens from her big bag of coloring supplies, digging through it for a quick second before returning to him with her arm outstretched and a glittery pink gel pen in her small hands. "This is okay, right, papa? Who's the letter going to?" He takes it appreciatively and writes out Nikolais name and address. "Uncle Kolya, and any pen you give me will do, sweetheart." He gives the pen back to her and ruffles her hair. "Oh, uncle Kolya will just love it, then! I'm pretty sure his favorite color is pink. I'm gonna color this for him so that the next time he comes over he'll have a present from me!" She says with excitement, skipping back over to her seat at the table to resume her coloring. "Oh, ofcourse, d/n." After Fyodor mailed the letter, he soon got a response from Nikolai expressing his disappointment over the letter not being fully written in pink gel pen, which was backed up by his daughter as well.

You stood in yours and your husbands bedroom, buttoning his shirt for him while he watched the numbers flicker and change on the alarm clock on your nightstand. Your daughters school was hosting a daddy-daughter dance and your daughter insisted on Fyodor taking her. He agreed obviously, but he felt unfamiliar with such things, after all, he'd never experienced a daddy-daughter dance in his childhood. You gave him a smile once you buttoned his shirt and grabbed the only tie he owned off the dresser. "You look so good, Fedya. Like a prince." You said with a smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. He hummed and guided your chin with his fingers to kiss his lips completely. "Just a prince? Not a king?" His eyes were half lidded as always and you could make out a small smile on his face. "Alright, fine, a king." You finished tying his tie for him and left it slightly loose around his neck, knowing he was never really fond of how tight they could be. "Perfect, that would make d/n our little princess." Almost as if summoned, her footsteps are heard pattering down the hallway in her cute little flats that you got for her. The dress that she wore was adorned with puffy, mesh layers on the skirt and some gemstones on the top. "Papa, are you ready to go yet? " she asks, walking over to his side and examining his outfit thoroughly and gasping excitedly. "Papa, your tie matches my dress!" She says, pointing out the same colored material. "It does." He picks her up with a smile. "Do I look pretty?" She asks, a big, toothy grin on her face. He laughs and nods.

"Absolutely, now go say goodbye to p/t." He says, putting her down onto the ground so she could hug you and bid you a goodbye. "Bye, p/t!!" She says, squeezing you quite tightly. You hug her back and kiss her head, looking down at her. "Bye, sweetheart, I love you. Oh- wait! Before you go I want a picture of you and papa." You fish your phone from your back pocket and open the camera app as she backs up and hugs her papa just as tightly as she held you. Fyodor places his hand on her back while they both smile for the photo, but wince all of a sudden as your phones flash goes off. "Oh- whoops, I forgot to turn the flash off- for real this time." They both pose again, d/n giggling at your small mistake. You snapped it and then examined it on the phone before your daughter started pleading to see it. Fyodors smile was as charming as always, both in person and in the photo, and your daughter looked absolutely adorable in her poofy dress. Once you had shown her and she was satisfied, she quickly made her way out of the room, holding the skirt of her dress by the handfuls. Fyodor laughed at her under his breath before he leaned in to kiss you once more before he left, letting his hand linger on your hip like his taste did on your lips. "Bye, Fedya, I love you, have fun." You grin, to which he lets out a sigh. "I will, I love you too, Moya Lyubov." He pulls away and follows the young girl out of the bedroom. You smiled to yourself as you heard him call from down the hallway, "Wait, malyshka, don't go out the door so fast", followed by the prompt creeking and closing of the door.

Osamu Dazai ★

No one got the memo that it was apparently 'bring your kid to work's day', but everyone had to adjust rather quickly when Dazai pulled up to the Ada with a young child on his hip, oogling at any shiny object in its sight. Kunikida was the first to ask about it. "Is this another orphan that you've decided to pick up off the streets? It's too young for a job here." Dazai rolled his eyes. "For your information, this is my son. His babysitter has come down with the flu." He clarifies, walking past everyone to his desk and sitting the one year old on his lap. The baby leans towards him and reaches for the tassels of his bolo tie, grabbing and pulling on them to his mouth. Dazai laughs and gently pulls them out of the little boys grasp. "No, s/n, you can't chew on those." His son pouts and coos out some baby nonsense, starting to look around for some other entertainment, only to find nothing that interests him. He looks up at his dad with his big brown eyes and pouts, huffing and gripping his long jacket in his chubby fists. "Papa, 'ome." He babbles, missing the comfort of yours and Dazais house and preferring to be there over the agency. "I know, s/n, believe me. I'd rather be at home than sitting here with these people." He says, sighing and shaking his head. "Just keep him from crying." Kunikida says exasperatedly while writing a report from the last case he worked on for Fukuzawa. Dazai hums in acknowledgement and turns the baby to face away from him, keeping him sat on his lap. "My boy doesn't cry, he's nothin' like those other babies." He says with a grin, grabbing a pen and wrapping his son's hand around it and helping him drag it acrossed the closest paper on Dazais desk. "Yeah, just get a feel for holding the pen and as soon as you can write on your own, daddy's never doin' his own reports again." He grins. "Your son isn't doing any paperwork for the agency until he joins. And that still doesn't mean he'll be doing yours." Kunikida says from his desk. Dazai shakes his head and lets go of his sons arm. "Ugh, whatever... Kunikida doesn't gotta know if I bring it home though." He whispers to the boy, evoking an unaware giggle. Kunikida let out a knowing huff and gave up on trying.

Chuuya Nakahara ★

After his little girl had asked him on numerous occasions for a trip to the fair, he was finally able to get some time off and go with you and her. He weaved through the crowds with her on his shoulders and his hand in yours while trying to decide on one final game for your daughter to play before you left.. "Papa, look! They have fish!" D/n exclaimed, pointing at the booth that ran the famous goldfish game that parents never want their kids to see. Not Chuuya though. He's nothin' like y'all. Chuuya didn't mind the idea of having a fish for his daughter, even if it was him who had to feed it every day and clean it's tank regularly. He smiled and looked over at you with eyes that asked you if you were in mutual agreement of letting her try to win a goldfish. You smiled back at him and nodded, noticing your daughter watching the two of you exchange your glances. "Alright sweetheart, let's go get ya one of them fish." He walks over to the stand with you, lifting her off of his shoulders while you handed the carnie a $5 bill for a basket of ten ping pong balls. Chuuya watched d/n try to toss the first five into one of the colorful mini-fishbowls and miss every single one, so he grabbed a ball and tossed it, getting it into one of them. The man running the game cheers and heads to get d/n her fish, but she ends up getting two of the last four balls in on her own, nearly shrieking in excitement. "Daddy, that means I get three fishes, right?" She excitedly asks, her hair bouncing in the pigtail style it was pulled into. "Yup, that's right." He smiles at the carnie when he hands the fish to him and mutters an appreciative thank you, patting his daughters back and telling her to do the same. "Thank you! P/t, can we get them a tank at home?" She asks, still super hyper from her triple win. You laugh and nod, holding two of the fish so Chuuya doesn't have to hold all three and your daughter if she chooses she's too tired to walk to the car. "Yeah, we'll stop at the pet store to get you a nice tank for them." You tell her, nodding for her to follow you and Chuuya grabbing her hand so she doesn't get lost. "What do you say to daddy? He got you one of those." You say with a small laugh and she looks up at her dad with big, adoring eyes. "Thank you, daddy! Ahh, I'm so excited for my fishes!" Her misunderstanding of the plural version of fish also makes you giggle a little. "You're welcome, princess. Y'gonna take real good care of them? Remind me to feed 'em every day?" He says, guiding you guys through the parked cars towards your own. "Yup! Every single morning! But what're we gonna do when I'm at school and you and p/t are working? What about their lunch?" She frowns. "Fish don't need lunch, don't worry." He reassures her and hands you the third bagged fish for a moment while buckling d/n into her seat. "Good, I don't want them to starve!" She says. Chuuya laughs under his breath and closes the backseat door, pulling out a cigarette to smoke before taking the sorta-long drive to the pet store and home. Now he had three more responsibilities, but it made his baby happy, so he really didn't mind having to take care of three more animals in addition to his original one.

A/n; yawns speed ran these, wrote Chuuyas in like,, 12 minutes, it's not proofread (js Chuuyas) but hopefully it works (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ also I'd like to come out and say ion proofread my own stuff, I have my friends do it (I love you guys MWAH)

[danika-redgrave124]

Winx Yuu

@alexglitches I was inspired by some of the asks you got, but I did my verison of Winx Yuu a little different based them off dreams and the night sky.

@twisted-dreamscape I was also inspired by the mini story you wrote.

I think Yuu's magic/powers should be related to dreams and the night sky because of the prophetic dreams Yuu has about the Great Seven which hasn't been really explained yet in the main story.

Yuu's wings are large and delicate, resembling the wings of a celestial butterfly. They are semi-transparent with a gradient that shifts from deep purple at the base to a soft, glowing blue at the edges. The wings are adorned with sparkling constellations that seem to move and change depending on her emotions.

Stella and Yuu have a Sun and Moon Dynamic Friendship. Yuu is also friends with Musa, sharing a deep connection through music and emotions. They also gets along well with Flora due to their mutual love for nature and the mysteries of the world. This is before they were sent to the world of Twisted Wonderland.

Strengths

Highly creative and imaginative, able to think outside the box in difficult situations.

Strong connection to the dream relam and night sky, making their powers extremely effective at night.

Excellent at calming others and offering guidance, often serving as the emotional anchor for their friends.

Weaknesses

Can be somewhat distant and lost in their own world due to wanting to figure out their own powers, making it hard for them to connect with other others on a deeper level.

Their powers are weaker during the day, especially in bright sunlight.

Yuu's empathetic nature can make them vulnerable to extreme negative emotions and nightmares of others, which can drain their energy.

★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Yuu's Hobbies (Before they awoken their powers)

Stargazing

Yuu has a deep connection to the cosmos, so they love spending time under the night sky, observing stars, constellations and celestial events like meteor showers.

Astrology

Yuu is fascinated by Astrology and enjoys studying the influence of the stars and planets on human behavior and events.

Storytelling and Mythology

Yuu has a passion for ancient myths and legends, especially those related to the stars, the moon and dreams. They enjoys reading and telling strokes that weave together elements dreams and the cosmos.

Yuu's Hobbies (After Awakening Her Magic)

Collecting Crystals

Yuu, now, has a collection of crystals and gemstones, each chosen for its connection to celestial and dream energies. They uses these crystals in their magical practices, incorporating them into spells, meditation, or simply decorative pieces in Ramshackle. They don't collect blot stones.

Malleus often gifts them crystals even though they don't have a connection to celestial or Dream energies, Yuu still greatly appreciated them.

Crafting Dreamcatchers

As a way to learn more about their dream powers in a tangible form, Yuu enjoys creating intricate dreamcatchers with Luna's help. They infuses them with protective magic, ensuring they capture good dreams and ward off nightmares, both for themselves and their friends.

Grim has two of them.

Pomefiore have three of them.

Heartslabyul have one each.

Jack has one.

Ignihyde has multiple of them

Ruggie has a lot of them for his family and himself.

Malleus and Silver have two of them. Lilia has one, but he secretly put it into Sebek's room in a place he wouldn't see it.

Meditation and Moon Bathing

To stay grounded and centered, Yuu practices meditation, often under the light of the moon. Moon bathing is a claming ritual for them, where they absorbs lunar energy to recharge their magical powers and clear their mind.

[inkedinfusions]

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 | eren jaeger halloween special

⊱♱⊰ | A small Halloween party and smudged makeup may seem like what happens every other year, but this one is about to take a turn, one both expected and surprising.

── ★ ˙ ̟ . ♱ .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist of works

𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 '𝟐𝟒

word count: 2.3k

content warnings: fake blood, mentions of alcohol

a/n: I started this today lmao. Anyways, I hope ya'll have a happy halloween if you celebrate it, and if not, I hope the candy that this festivity brings you is sweet and plentiful. Also thanks to my beta reader for reading and revising on such short notice (read: I deadass just texted them the link to my docs and they read it over immediately) Truly the goat <3

Thanks for reading!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 smudges in the corner of your eye for the umpteenth time that late afternoon.

Historia huffs, reaching for the makeup remover and cotton pads to wipe it off, being extra careful to not erase any of the purple shadow that adorns your eyelids.

“Would it kill you to stop squirming?” she asks when you blink and smudge it again.

You groan, almost hiding your face in your hands before realizing that would only mess up your makeup further. It had taken a grand total of three baby wipes, five brushes and a shit ton of q-tips to make the eyeshadow and glitter look good, and you aren’t about to mess up the other half of Historia’s hard work.

“I’m sorry!” you say. “I can’t help it if my eye twitches— and It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose.”

Mikasa snorts from where she lays on her bed, doom scrolling while she waits for you to get ready. The witch hat she’ll be using is sitting on her nightstand, next to some discarded accessories and a pallet of red face paint, responsible for the tracks of painted blood on your face.

Historia sighs, screwing the lid back on the liquid eyeliner bottle. 

“I’m just going to use a pencil,” she says. “It’ll be easier to wipe off and correct later.”

“I told you to do that from the start,” Mikasa chimes in.

You stay still when Historia brings the liner close to your eye, flicking it outwards. The pencil will be easier to smudge, but quicker to clean up, even if it means you’ll spend a great deal of the party in front of a mirror. Or you’ll just give up halfway through and hope that the pseudo smokey eye is excused by your costume.

“Why can’t you do it?” you ask Mikasa when Historia is done, helping her arrange the makeup supplies so that they are less of a pain to clean the next morning.

“I mean,” you continue, “you basically wear this everyday, no?”

Mikasa shrugs, standing up to help tidy up. “I can’t do it to other people though. Only myself.”

Her lips twitch in a mischievous smile before continuing. “Eren is the one who knows how to do that,” she says, grinning slightly like it’s some kind of inside joke. “Maybe you should ask him for help?”

Historia chuckles and you feel your face heat up. “Shut up,” you protest.

“I’m just saying-“

“Shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

Historia’s makeup box closes with a click, and Mikasa's vanity is more or less cleared up. You and your friends had chosen to arrive early to get ready in her room, while the boys are busy raiding nearby convenience stores for snacks and booze.

Halloween is never boring with your friends. Either because of some stupid stunt Connie and Sasha pulled, or dumb gossip you would share late into dusk, your get-togethers are always thoroughly entertaining.

And speaking of the devil.

“Hey guys,” Sasha says through mouthfuls of chips, entering the room. “Done with the costumes?”

A small chorus of Yeahs echoes in the room

“Mikasa is wearing the same emo outfit she always wears so—“ you mutter, ducking and laughing when Mikasa launches a pillow in your direction, ignoring the ‘It’s goth!’ she throws your way.

You take cover behind Annie, who arrives just after Sasha, almost crashing into Historia when she starts to fiddle with the tiny gemstones on her face in the mirror. 

“I think this one’s crooked,” she mumbles, slightly poking at them with her pinky finger.

“Babe,” Ymir says from where you thought she was passed out on a bean bag. “It looks fine. Leave it.” 

“You think so?”

“You could be wearing a trash bag and still be the most beautiful girl in the room.”

“Ugh, gay people,” you say teasingly, knowing as well as them that their relationship is actually goals, and no, you weren’t jealous at all of their mutual sappiness. 

“Ugh,” Ymir replies. “Straight people.”

“But I’m not-“

“You like Eren,” she cuts you off. “That’s enough.”

That serves to silence you for the time being, wisely choosing to instead stuff your mouth with the bowl of chips Sasha stole from downstairs.

“And speaking of the devil,” Mikasa says when a car is heard outside.

 “Oh! You think they bought sour gummies?” Sasha asks with stars in her eyes, already rushing downstairs.

“Knowing them they probably bought half the store,” Ymir mutters, reaching for Historia’s hand to follow Sasha.

You make your way downstairs, walking among fake cow webs and hanging ghosts, guided by the lively chatter of your friends. 

Sasha and Connie are already on the couch munching on snacks, chattering excitedly next to Jean, who is browsing scary movies on the Tv, looking for something to have in the background.

Reiner and Bertholdt are busy setting up the drinks, arranging the kitchen table with a wide variety of sodas, booze, and colorful red syrup. You even spy some edible fang gummies, the only snack not already poached by the others.

“Hey,” Eren greets you when he sees you approaching, although it’s partially muffled by the vampire fangs in his mouth.

“Hi,” you smile, matching bloody grins on both your faces. “Those fangs working for you?”

“They are a pain,” he groans. “I swear some of this blood is real, with how many times I’ve cut my own gums.”

“Maybe you should stick to those gummies,” you point to the kitchen table, opening up the bottom cupboard to take out the punch bowl.

Eren, who has already given up on keeping his plastic fangs on, follows you as you move through the kitchen, taking over the punch preparing process from Reiner and Bertholdt, shooing them to the living room.

“Maybe I will.”

He rips the plastic bag open while you pour a sizable amount of cherry juice into the punch bowl, followed by pared orange peels, cinnamon sticks, cloves, ginger and chili. You take the bag from his hands and take some fang gummies to sprinkle into the bowl, mixing the ingredients thoroughly.

“Could you pass me the—“ Eren passes you the vodka wordlessly. “Oh thanks.”

“Course.” 

You prop it up next to the punch for anyone looking for a drink with a kick to it. You had learned from previous hangouts that alcohol in communal punch was not something to mess with, some people’s unreal tolerance (Eren’s and Annie���s) spiking up the median endurance. 

Let’s just say that you don’t remember much from New Years Eve two years ago.

You don’t notice how his eyes linger on you for a moment, how the tips of his ears go red when your fingers graze. And if you do— well— you’ve both played the oblivious game for far too long to do anything about it.

“Hey,” Eren starts, prompting you to look at him. “So I was wondering—“

A loud screech and your friend’s subsequent complaints makes you both jump in place, and a loud robotic voice informs you that the karaoke speaker Historia had brought has been turned on. Loud music follows the voice before the volume shoots down, and the first few notes of a popular song start to play.

You turn to Eren after a beat. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He grins, handing you a red cup he had previously poured. You’ll know he’ll tell you if you push, but like many past occasions you simply return his grin, accept the drink, and walk towards where your friends are gathered.

Your throat feels raspy after the eight consecutive songs you’ve sang, some with Sasha and Connie, one with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, and others where you didn’t have a mic, but were simply belting out the lyrics with everyone else.

Scream plays quietly in the background after an unexpected scream (funny) had scared you and Sasha, prompting you both to bump into each other and make a mess of popcorn on the floor.

Said girl still ate them, so you can’t really say they went to waste. Under five seconds too, so, in her words, the five second rule still applied.

Reiner had somehow been coerced by Jean and Marco into singing a Disney song, and you were sure that the whole block could hear their screeches. You were a giggling mess by the time they sang the last note, tears coming out of your eyes at their impression of what was before a heartfelt anthem.

It is only when you wipe off your tears that you realize your fingers are stained black. Shit, you think, the eyeliner.

You groan, not really wanting to go fix it, but knowing that you probably look like a panda and not at all like the smokey black eye you had envisioned.

“Hey, Mikasa?”

“Yeah?” She turns towards you.

“Can I borrow your liquid liner? I’m going to try and do it myself.”

“Are you sure you won’t poke your eyes out?” Mikasa asks, raising her eyebrows. While you didn’t appreciate her lack of faith in you, it was well founded. You weren’t clumsy by any means, but your hands had the tendency to shake when you needed to do precise work.

You open your mouth to reassure her when a voice coming from your left pipes up.

“I can help,” Eren offers.

“You sure? I wouldn’t want to interrupt your fun or something.”

“It’s fine. Besides, Jean’s voice is kinda making my ears ring now.”

A beat passes, interrupted by Mikasa clearing her throat. “If that’s all then, better hurry. The pizza is getting here soon, and I can’t guarantee you’ll get a piece if you’re not downstairs the moment the doorbell rings.”

“It won’t take long,” you say.

“Sure,” she says, unconvinced.

You and Eren both decide to ignore the implications of her statement, walking upstairs. You start to walk towards Mikasa's bedroom, meaning to retrieve her eyeliner.

“Where are you going?” Eren asks.

“For the liner?”

“I have a different one that it’s easier to put on. Come on, it’s in my room.” He nods towards the door to his bedroom, and you fall into step next to him as you stroll down the hall.

“I forgot you had an emo phase.”

“It wasn’t— whatever.”

You snort at his lack of retort. His so-called ‘emo phase’ wasn’t actually emo, but you liked to tease him about it every once in a while.

You make a quick detour to wipe off the black smudges that were left over, messing up your eyeshadow but not really caring enough to fix it properly. It would do for the night. Besides, unlike with the eyeliner, you could simply blend it in with your fingers.

Eren flicks the lights on and you flop onto his bed while he searches for the forgotten liner, a remnant of his dark and embarrassing past. Well, embarrassing for him at least. You, on the other hand, found it incredibly attractive whenever he put it on. Not that you ever told him.

“Here.” He takes a black bottle after rummaging through his drawers for a while.

Eren takes a seat next to you, and you move onto a similar sitting position, facing him. 

While you couldn’t stop moving around when Historia was helping you out, you are now completely frozen in place, transfixed in his aquamarine eyes.

You feel every breath he takes, every exhale he lets out. Small translucent freckles that remain from summer decorate his cheeks, where startling red is also painted.

His touch is feathery soft, the fingers on your chin doing almost no work to keep your head in place. Still, he doesn’t remove them. 

Eren gently tilts your face as he goes, filling in the gaps in the wing, in your upper lash line, in the inner corner of your eye. 

You realize his mouth is moving after a while, bringing you out of your stupor. 

“I— sorry, what?”

You mourn the loss of his fingers on your chin when he pulls back to screw the lid of the liner back on. Eren chuckles, and it’s not the first time the sound brings butterflies to your stomach.

“I asked if it’s okay like that.”

“Yeah,” you say, still a little out of it. “It’s fine.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t even looked at a mirror—“

“What were you going to say to me in the kitchen?” You interrupt.

His mouth slams shut, and for a second all you can hear is both of your heartbeats drumming in your chests, blood rushing through your veins, warmth beginning to spread throughout. There’s even the bad singing of your friends in the background to top it off.

“It was nothing,” he says.

“No it wasn’t. What were you going to ask?”

You watch as Eren internally debates with himself, weighting the pros and cons interfering with your pull and push game would bring. The pros win, it seems, because he replies, softer than you've ever heard.

He gets closer to you, fingers once again finding their home on your chin. His eyes look for resistance but find none; your pulse looks for his own and finds a rhythm.

“Can I—?”

You don’t let him finish, and it’s really something you have to work on, the way both of you never wrap up your questions. But oh, you don’t find it in yourself to regret it.

He tastes like candy, sweet and sour, the lingering flavor of alcohol adding a small kick to the kiss. Your hands find his way to his costume’s collar, his own to the back of your neck.

It’s soft, gentle, warmed in the slow burn of a confession years in the making. Maybe you did have one regret— the fact that it took this long for you to get here.

You part just as quickly as you came together, the subtle after taste of his Halloween treats lingering in your breath. You smile, and he smiles, and you both start giggling like little kids after a sugar high, intoxicated in the other's presence.

“Hey,” he says, thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth. “Now your lipstick is smudged. Want me to help you with it?”

[dragon-ascent]

Geo resonance

Zhongli and geo vision reader

★彡some ramblings, use of 'wife,' geo is alive and well in MY heart

Archons don’t exactly grant Visions, but that doesn’t stop Zhongli from being ecstatic – and a bit of a braggart – about you having a Geo vision. "My wife is an allogene of the Geo element," he tells anyone willing to listen, even if the conversation has nothing to do with Visions - he'll still find some way to squeeze in the fact that you wield his favoured element. It's a little embarrassing, but when you see how Zhongli's eyes twinkle with mirth at the mere mention of your vision, you can't help but blush.

Literally ANYTHING you do using your powers, Zhongli will be praising you. "Beautiful work, my beloved!" he'll say as you summon shining gemstones to pierce monsters, infusing your weapon with glimmering Geo energy. Heck, even if you simply dispose of a mere hilichurl, your husband will smile approvingly and mention how much he enjoyed the technique you implemented.

It’s a mutually beneficial thing; when the two of you fight together, geo resonance kicks in. Zhongli’s shield becomes even more indomitable than it usually is, and you get stronger as well. Fights are already generally short (perhaps mostly because of the literal god fighting by your side), but geo resonance just makes things even easier.

It is true that physical contact is different when an allogene touches you; for instance, the touch of a Pyro user is unusually warm while a Cryo user's touch is quite cold. As for Geo users, there is often a pleasant vibration, like listening to the veins of the earth sing a sleepy melody. So when you two hold hands, Zhongli loves to simply close his eyes and press your intertwined hands to his cheek, listening to the steady and gentle hum of contact. It serves as a reminder to him that this beloved companionship is as steadfast as stone, one he will cherish forever.

[phantasmiac]

civilian touya who has an awkward relationship with his family. puts the civil in civilian. he got all his angst and rage out of his system during his teenage years, and enji’s been on a self improvement journey for some time now. things should be good now — but he only visits home once every two months (sometimes even less often) and no phone call with him ever lasts any longer than five minutes (unless you’re natsuo. then you get an extra five). and no matter how hard fuyumi or rei attempt to pry on the occasions he does join them at the dinner table, whatever he’s been up to recently is still a mystery for the most part by the time he leaves. touya loves his family, because loving unconditionally is just in his nature. but he spent so much time being angry and pushing them away during his teenage years that he doesn’t really know them anymore — and he can’t bring himself to trust people he doesn’t know.

civilian touya who randomly brings home his hot tattooed gf one day. rei’s eyes are sparkling as she laughs and chats with you, hand resting over your own in that warm motherly way. and the whole time enji’s sat like a fucking statue with an unreadable expression on his face that makes him look constipated. he’s trying so hard not to say oh brother 🙄 so this is what touya’s gotten himself into. he hasn’t gotten to the chapter about conservatism in his self help book. he doesn’t say anything because everyone seems to really like you and touya’s been watching you and his mom talk with a fondness that’s lowkey causing cracks in his stone cold heart. but secretly, he’s betting that this relationship isn’t gonna make it touya’s next visit.

civilian touya who brings you over again…. and again…. and again. enji’s so bewildered and stressed at the fact that he was wrong it’s comical. and he has yet to voice his concerns to anyone else bc he doesn’t want to look like an asshole so he just has this ongoing bet with the voice inside his head that you and touya are going to break up any minute now. everyone else has joined touya in being infatuated with you because you’re great — but also because touya’s now started to visit more often and there’s a constant grin on his face that they haven’t seen since he was a little boy. and enji swears he won’t fall for your little tricks! he’s absolutely livid when a chuckle escapes him at a juvenile joke you made. scandalized by the fact that he’s a little curious about the meaning behind one of your tattoos — you’re not gonna get him to ask 😡

civilian touya who announces that you’re five weeks pregnant a year and a half into your relationship. rei cries. because she’s going to be a grandma, of course, but also because he actually chose to share the news with them instead of suddenly disappearing to some foreign country to raise a family in secret — something she’s convinced the touya before you would have done just to avoid being open with them. and enji, thinks this might just be his aha! moment. having a baby this soon, out of wedlock? bound to fall apart. for once, he hopes he’s wrong.

civilian touya who has one hand stabilizing the smiley, toothless baby girl sitting on his lap and the other holding your left, thumb rubbing the aquamarine gemstone on your ring finger. enji watches his firstborn dote on his own and silently reminisces the first few months of touya’s life. he remembers being full of love for someone for the first time in his entire life, and being terrified; it was all more than he knew what to do with. touya seems to know exactly what to do with it all when he coos at his two girls. love was never a challenge for him — just finding somewhere to place it.

★ a/n: i wrote this with the panel from 388 in mind and that’s the ONLY reason shouto isn’t mentioned. ily bby it’s not what it looks like

[sometimeslapine]

[…Store-Bought Is Fine]

(the part two to the previous story! things get a bit more intimate...)

Shutting the door, locking the door, testing the door.

Satisfied, she slung the car keys back on their wall-mounted hook, and loudly announced her arrival home to nobody in particular. It was almost midnight.

She knew her roommate was out for the weekend, off to some convention thing. She knew she still had the house to herself for at least a few more days, but it never hurt to check. A little peace of mind goes a long way, especially given the whole… y'know. She was pretty sure that they were pretty sure that they knew the nonsense stuff she was into, but, still.

She looked down at the brown bag of oddities picked up about an hour earlier. She's really going to go through with this, huh. It almost felt anticlimactic, in a weird way? She'd mentally ran through this scenario about a dozen times on the drive home, almost burning the novelty of the situation out. Still, though…

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

The clock finally struck twelve, and she set to work, full of eager energy. She'd always been a bit of a night owl (partial consequence of her hobbies), so it wasn't long before most of the kitchen was an absolute mess. It's the saffron, you see. A nightmare to refine when all you've got is the kind of second-hand electric stove a a certain landlord would "so graciously" provide with the place. A few dozen croquaenen stigmas removed, drying out as best they can over the low heat of a burner.

Several of the other reagents had been prepped by the time she was starting to grind up the would-be saffron in a mortar. Most of it was ready-to-use from the get go. Wasn't a lot to extracting the lavender oil, normally, but the need for a dry environment limited her options a bit. No boiling water, no steam allowed tonight. Still, she managed.

One in the A.M. finally landed, and she was prepping the space in her bedroom. The new moon tonight gave no ambient light to work off of, but old habits and comforts kept her craft project close to an uncurtained window, regardless. Small heat-resistant tarp laid out, sigil carefully drawn with the saff powder, lavender oil spread thinly around the perimeter, incense lit to set the mood, gemstones and the elemental charm each placed at a focal point in the design, and, uh,

…Hm,

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she held the unlabeled bottle of that ficus sap stuff in her hand, gently rocking it back and forth in contemplation, feeling the viscous weight slowly shift its center of gravity, watching it coat the inside walls. She honestly had no idea what to do with the this stuff. Not for consumption, obviously, but uh. Damn. Really regretting not asking for clarification now.

Well, she was nothing if not one to improvise.

Running back to the kitchen to grab a small cup, she dipped the air charm in by its band and spilled enough of the latexy sap in to completely coat the thing. That's basically what balloons are on a technical level, right? A latex coating encasing air? Or the representation of air, anyway. That makes sense conceptually, right?? Yeah. What's the worst that could happen.

She carefully laid the encased charm back down on the decorated tarp, its position on the sigil representative of one's body. For good measure, she gave the same treatment to several of the gemstones, carefully removing them all from the mixture with a small pair of tongs. Another moment to dry, then back into their place they go. Again, why not.

She had herself a mostly-complete alchemy circle. As a final precaution, she opened the bedroom window to that moonless sky (cautiously, only giving about 12 or so inches of an opening), aiming her tower fan to cycle air out. She didn't know how much smoke this thing was about to put off, and the last thing she needed was the fire alarm flipping this late at night.

A pause, to admire her handiwork. A photo taken, to document this setup in the off-chance it worked. Just one final reagent to go, and a comparatively big one at that.

She brought a section of the lavender oil to ignition with the still-burning incense, and carefully stepped onto the tarp, into the circle.

There was a blinding flash. The full span of the ring was now quickly ablaze with a low, luminous indigo flame. It was silent, bringing a radiance that almost felt cold. She felt a tingling sensation shoot up her spine; Either an effect of the ritual doing its work, or the nervousness of the situation as a whole. Playing with fire indoors was always a bit of a hazard, but she'd rather not risk doing this particular one outside, not with her fear of heights. Last thing she needed was an open sky without a safety harness.

That tingling eventually spread out across the rest of her body, slowly at first, and then rapidly down her limbs, with an intense heat that felt completely foreign to her. It wasn't the flames, but something more… internal? The closest association her brain could make was someone very gently running a lint roller across every square inch of her body. Weird, gentle prickling sensations, a light tug upwards as if some phantom adherence was being removed. Under any other situation, she'd have kicked back to enjoy the sensory show, but this was nothing but terse apprehension, a feeling that felt like it was going to drag on for eternity.

And then it stopped, just as quickly. The flames sputtered to an emberless ash, leaving a sweet honeyed scent throughout the now-darkened room. She collapsed on the floor, exhausted, panic finally over. Wow, did she ever feel light-headed. Probably should've had something to eat before this.

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

She laid there on her back for quite some time, hazy attention focusing in and out on the ceiling. Slowly coming-to again, she braced herself for the fire alarm to kick off screaming. The window precaution seems to have done the trick in evacuating the smoke, at least. That's good. That's… good. Wow, did she ever feel light… ah… …light-everything? What… what the fuck.

Was that a sign it worked?

She lifted a hand upwards above her, as best as she could. It felt like her strength was sapped. She- "Holy shit." Involuntarily spoken. She could almost see right through it though, if she looked hard enough. "Holy shit. What the fuck." Propping herself up against the side of her bed, she pulled off her shirt as quickly as she could manage, pausing to lament the smudged ashen marks the sigil left on the backside. It was faint looking down, but sure enough, she saw the carpet underneath, no, directly /through/ her own chest. "Holy shit." It was literally all she could manage, rendered otherwise speechless.

She placed a hand against her belly, and gave a hesitant push. It squished down in, far more than it had any right to, before springing right back up when her pressure relented. "I- I'm a balloon. Rubber. I'm- This is- I- h-hah," before fully giving way to excited laughter. The absurdity of it all hit like a truck.

A beat passed, her taking time to fully come to terms with the changes that had taken place. Right. She did this to herself, intentionally, with purpose. There was only one thing on her mind.

She scrambled across the floor to her closet (as best she could, given the lack of any actual internals that would've helped with that,) and- "Where the /fuck/ is that air compressor." …and unburied the thing she kept hidden but never had a chance to use, covered in dust as it was.

It was by no means powerful, but it moved air around, into things, and that's all she cared about in the moment.

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

Plugged in, Powered on, Airflow tested.

With her clothes now fully removed, she did her best to prop herself up against the bedroom wall, naked and reaching (blindly fumbling) around behind her. The still-running hose went it with no resistance at all, and she immediately felt a pressure begin to build around her pelvis before dispersing upwards. Everything quickly felt tight. There was a bubbly tingle. A slight belly bump made itself known, and she stared at it in amazement as she watched the rise and fall of her shallow breaths become more of a rise and rise, and rise, and rise.

The feeling, the experience left her even weaker in that moment. She slid back down to a seated position, grabbing at her own tummy, cradling it as it rounded out to something akin to a basketball, waistline slowly gaining an inch or two every minute, puffing out onto her lap. God, this felt fucking incredible. It was greater, unlike anything she could've imagined (and that imagination certainly wasn't devoid of attempts). The pressure buildup, the restricted movement, the taboo nonsense feeling of it all. It was like getting a really good stretch in that just kept going and going. The bonus vibrations she got from the air compressor's magnet-driven motor traveling through the hose certainly didn't help her feel in any way Normal about it.

it was a few minutes of bliss before a hit of clarity successfully broke through the obsession. she needed room to grow, and the corner of her room wouldn't be viable for long. get up. she should move to the bed, if she could manage.

Right. Okay. She attempted to stand. It was a little easier this time, the pressure keeping her body a bit more taut, less prone to collapse (is this what a pooltoy feels like?) but the vibrational waves of that motor reverberating through her core still kept her weak. It was all so much to feel. She almost looked like she'd swallowed a beachball at this point, and her sides were starting to round out just as much as her front was. Hell, she couldn't even see over the rising dome of her belly anymore.

Moving to the bed, she…

…

Well, She tried to, anyway. She practically fell face-and-tummy first onto the floor with a slight rebounding bounce, coming to a stop on all fours; A clumsy combination of the ever-shifting balance point, and a rough reminder that the hose kept her on a short leash about five feet long.

Y'know what, the floor was fine. She didn't care. She really could not care about anything else. She was suddenly in the perfect position to feel everything, every sensation, straddled over her own ballooning body, feeling the high-pile carpet gently brush across the increasing surface area of her expanding frontside, while her overall weight (or whatever fraction remained of it, this hollow) squished downwards, stretching and distorting her tummy outwards to the sides as much as it did the front.

With some hesitancy, she took the weight distribution off her palms, seeing just how well she could remain in this position without the added support. The shift in balance and the new restriction in room to grow gave a subtle redirection in airflow. A pressure in her chest built up, and she gave a questioning squeeze around her front-right. A squeak vocalized at the unexpected sensitivity, but she confirmed it, face reddening as expanding titflesh slowly billowed out around her grip. It was the first noise she'd made in a while, having been enjoying the experience in silent bliss. Boobs too, huh? God, what a fucking experience.

Minutes passed with the hum of the motor still whirring away in its duty, steadily blowing the girl rounder and rounder, pressure increasing bit by bit. Completely content, she thought back on that squeak she made; Embarrassing as it was, it was the kind of noise you'd expect from a balloon, and she held on to that thought almost in pride, nuzzling her face down in the unexpected cleavage she'd gained. She was more balloon then girl at this point after all, and balloons are meant to get round and squeaky. Balloons are designed for this. It's completely normal for a blimp to want these things, she reasoned with herself. Thi-

Train of thought cut short, her whole world suddenly flipped forward. Sheer size alone had outgrown her ability to retain traction, and her legs were now kicking skyward, hose and all in full display. Only thing that stopped her ending up face-first against the carpet as she tilted forward was her airbag of a chest.

Well, things were… a little more awkward, now.

Attempts at repositioning were challenging; It was a bit of trouble moving her arms around with all the boob in the way, but there was just this… odd resistance, on top of everything else? It's… stiff. Everything felt stiff.

Ah.

She slowly, hesitantly, relaxed as much as she could, taking note of how her arms now found natural resting positions straight out to the sides. They were tough to bend elsewise, and that stiffness was slowly giving way to a new, even-more-foreign feeling of pressure, like nervous butterflies flooding every cubic inch. The feeling was mirrored along her hips, down her legs. She didn't feel at-capacity yet, but the air was already searching for new places to go.

This… wasn't anticipated. Everything gently started to puff ever-so-noticeably rounder, and she was losing mobility fast. She tried to fight it, flailing a bit, trying to shift in any direction, but it only served as a reminder of how sensitive everything was, blown out like this. The air compressor was far too out of reach in this position, and she'd completely lost the mobility needed to pull the hose out. Alright. Fuck. stay calm. take stock of the situation. Okay. Yeah.

She was still mostly center-of-the-room, halfway between the closet and the bed, safe from the danger of pushing into anything sharp, but she really had no idea just how much give she had left in her. The pressure kept increasing in step with her size, and the square footage of this bedroom wasn't ever much to write home about. She could still feel the light reverberations from the compressor's motor, vibrations increasing in intensity, a whine crying out from the little device as it tried to fight PSI it almost definitely wasn't rated for.

Well, that's a potential solution, if she could manage that long. Outlast the motor. Hope it burns itself out. Prooooobably doable. And if she couldn't…

The threat of popping loomed overhead. Jeez… Hell of a way to go. She always knew she'd be done by one of her own spells, but it being something as dumb and air-headed as attempting to live out kink nonsense surprisingly wasn't high up on her list. It just.. didn't really seem all that dignified, to be honest. Hell, just thinking about how silly she looked, all blown up like some parade float mockery of herself, sensitive squeaking with every move, so round, so shiny, so huge, so very fucking huge, and tight, and full and stretching so thin you could see right through her, only moments away from total release like any good party blimp lovingly pushed to its limit and ready to explode, and god why was she so into this, this isn't helping her case, agh, focus, focus,

She was well past the point where internal pressure beat out features. Arms and legs swelling out comically conical, the valley dividing belly and underboob beginning to taper outwards, even her face felt a little bloated. She was over minutes away from being blown full-body spherical, and all she could do was ride it out. The pressure began to peak. Ah. This is it, then.

Closing her eyes, she waited.

Slow, calm breaths, trying to avoid adding any more tension to the body.

She waited, in intense anticipation.

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

…Thirty seconds moved by without fanfare.

She… didn't feel any tighter? She was still really fucking tight, but… she didn't seem to be growing. The pump's still flowing, she can certainly feel that much, but the pressure wasn't increasing. Where's the bang.

Why was she almost disappointed…?

It was as if the compressor just couldn't move air anymore. Either that, or she sprung a leak somewhere. Airflow had normalized. She wasn't getting any bigger, but she wasn't getting any smaller, either.

She was just kinda… stuck like this. At least eight feet around, way too blown taut to do anything about the situation, almost completely unable to move (save for a slight rocking back and forth), and thanks to the motor of that hose gently buzzing away in a process she could still one-hundred-percent feel, she'd be stuck here for the foreseeable future, thoughts all but scrambled, with what amounted to a vibrator stuck between her legs. It still felt amazing, but, jeez, what a fucking scenario to be in. Her only possible release was still out at a con for the next few days, completely unaware they'd be coming home to a weather blimp for a roommate. (how on earth is she even going to explain this one.)

But, time still moved forward. She tried to let herself enjoy what she could of the situation. Occasional hushed moans broke through the silence of the night, intermingling with the white noise of the motor working diligently to ensure she'd always be topped off, like any good balloon should be.

…god. this was looking set to be a very, very long weekend.

[hey-august]

Hello!

Could prompt number 4: Matching be paired with "You're Annoying" and "You're gonna make me cry", Said by either Buggy or Reader?

Phew, finally finished this one! I hope you like it!

Prompts: Matching, "You're annoying." "You're gonna make me cry." Teaser: "It was sweet. Misguided, but sweet. And that’s what you liked about Buggy." Warnings: SFW. Established relationship, some profanity. Word count: ~1.6k

Check out my 250 Follower Prompt Event and see fulfilled prompts here.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It started small. So small that you didn’t even notice. Buggy started with buttons. It didn’t take long to replace one. Then another. And another. He kept going until he ran out of notions to swap.

That wasn’t enough, so your pockets were the next target. Cutting out the fabric and sewing new pouches in place was pretty simple for the pirate. His stitches were clumsy, especially since he did this craft in the dead of night, but they were strong enough. 

The most important part of this project was remembering to put all your crap back into the right pockets. You carried a lot of junk - pens and pencils, a small toy mouse, bandages, candy, and other shit that he didn’t recognize. You caught him one morning, mouth full of a reward he sneaked from your stash and hand in the pocket he finished not long ago. Assuming that he was after the candy, you rolled your eyes. He barely heard the words, “you’re annoying,” as you turned away, shaking your head. The stray hair escaping your nest of bedhead danced and beckoned the pirate to move on from his secret crafting and pull you back to bed.

Then came the gifts. New boots which were perfect for stomping around the ship. Jewelry with gemstones that shined even in the dark. Silk scarves, reminiscent of the captain’s own striped bandanas. Buggy even got you gloves to protect your hands from blisters and splinters. You felt his ocean eyes linger whenever you wore one of his gifts. The heat from his gaze dragged along your body as it traversed each part of your body decorated with his adoration. Even though the jewelry was a little flashier than you’d prefer and the gloves made your hands sweaty, you made sure to wear all of the gifts periodically.

Buggy’s plan began to fall apart at the seams when the accidents started.

One afternoon, Richie’s claws got caught on one of your pants. The elongated tear that ran from your ass cheek to the hem of your pants didn’t look like the lion’s usual clumsy grab for attention, but a commanded swipe that luckily didn’t break skin.

Another time you were assisting the captain with his knife throwing.  Apparently he needed the practice based on how many times he nicked your top. Buggy claimed he just needed to warm up and flashed the bashful smile that always tugged at your heart.

It soon became a daily event for a piece of your clothing to meet its untimely demise. Three items were blown off deck while hung out to dry. Four were burned through by the iron. Two were stained with paint. And an indeterminate amount was confused with scraps that were ripped up and used for rags.

While Buggy shouted his head off at whoever caused the damage (excluding himself, of course), the anger would quickly dissipate when he attempted to fix the problem. Sharp words and screeching volumes were replaced with soothing remarks. Substitutes and replacements came from his own closet, or were picked up at the next town. The solutions were suspicious, though. The captain almost always had the right item of clothing ready to hand over. 

You sat on the edge of the shared bed with yet another ruined bit of fabric in your hands. The vest had just barely survived an iron burn last week, but sometime this morning small claws shredded the clothing beyond repair. The bedroom door creaked open and you nearly cracked your neck turning to see if the four-legged culprit returned to the scene of the crime. Instead, a clown sauntered in. 

Buggy’s peppy steps fell as his gaze landed on the newest victim clutched in your hands, then flicked back up to your steely face.

“A-another accident?” he stammered.

“Yeah, sure. Accident,” you said, tossing the vest onto the floor. The tightness in your chest was eased slightly with a deep breath. A heavy sigh.

“Here, I have a spare,” Buggy offered, as a floating hand carried over a terracotta-colored linen vest. 

The only common thread the replacement had with your loss was the lack of sleeves. Still, it was nice. And familiar.

Your eyes flickered between the clothing hanging in front of you and Buggy’s outfit. The thoughts in your head started linking arms and grouping together as you stared at the linen vest he wore. And his striped bandana. The black top with reversed seams. His brown baggy pants. Boots, perfect for stomping. Feeling your crowded thoughts getting ready to surge, you looked once more at his vest and the buttons on it.

Snatching the second vest he was offering, you also yanked open one of your dresser drawers to grab a handful of clothing before sprinting into his closet. You weren’t fast enough to evade the pirate entirely, but you were quick enough to close the door on his arm, leaving you with a hand and forearm and the rest of him outside the closet. The surprise maneuver gave you just enough time to snatch corroborating evidence.

The door flew open, exposing Buggy’s contorted face. Before he could throw himself into the tirade ready to splash over, you stopped him with a single word.

“Why?”

Buggy stayed silent. His mouth hung open from words that were unsaid and words that he wasn’t ready to speak. You were upset, he could see it in your face. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

You shook the matching shirts before dropping them and grabbing another pair of clothes from the pile draped on your arm. Another moment of silence fell and so did those clothes. You pulled out a button-up shirt and studied it before letting it fall to the floor. The cardigan you found next had what you were looking for. You pinched a colorful button between your fingers and pointed between it and the button on Buggy’s vest. They matched.

“I don’t understand,” you said, desperate to avoid another quiet moment. 

“I-it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I didn’t mean it,” Buggy finally blurted out. 

“So you ruined my things on purpose?” The soft quiver in your voice was sharp enough to stab the pirate in the chest.

“No, no, no…” Buggy stumbled over the words and over his feet as he lurched towards you. “Not that, I didn’t do that. I did the buttons and the pockets, I swear!” 

He grabbed some of the clothes you held and started pointing out his handiwork. Your buttons had been replaced with ones that were more detailed and brighter.

“I only did a few at a time so you wouldn’t notice,” he explained hastily, before moving on to the pockets. 

Shoving his hands into any clothing that he worked on previously, Buggy pulled out the new pouches that were made of flashy colors and patterns. Then he exposed his own flashy pockets.

You reached out to touch the fabric in his pocket. There was a bit of stray thread poking out of the hand sewn seam. The seams of your pockets were the same - a clear sign depicting a lack of skill and an abundance of dedication.

“I wanted to match with you sometimes. Just little things, you know? ‘cause we’re a pair. And when your stuff kicked the can, I figured we could match more,” Buggy said quietly, his face turning the same shade of red as his nose. “I didn’t ruin anything on purpose though…those were really accidents.”

“Really?”

“Maybe not Richie… I didn’t think he was going to fuck you up like that. I just wanted him to tear a little hole so I could replace the pockets in those pants next.”

You sighed at the trickle of truth. “And the other things were accidents too?”

Buggy scowled at the scorn in your question, clearly offended that you didn’t believe him. “Yeah, that’s what I said. You think I would yell at my crew for things I told them to do?” 

Silence.

“Well, not this time,” he continued, flustered. “I had them switch laundry duty when it was clear that using irons and paint required training. And I can’t control the weather, we all lose shit when it’s windy out.”

“And my vest today?”

“...I also can’t control the cat. She doesn’t listen to me, you know that.”

“You’re her best friend.”

“And she doesn’t listen to me. Just like you’re not listening to me now!” the frustration in Buggy’s body finally spilled out. Fed up with the argument and his failed plan, the pirate clown left the stuffy closet.

“Wait,” you called out, to no avail. “Buggy, wait!”

When he didn’t listen, you threw what clothes you still held at him. They hit his back with a sad fwump and he stopped walking.

“You really wanted to match with me?” you asked his back.

He nodded.

You wrapped your arms around his figure. “That's it?”

Another nod. 

You pressed your face against his back so your next words were muffled. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

It was sweet. Misguided, but sweet. And that’s what you liked about Buggy. Sometimes his intentions were overshadowed by bad luck, but underneath it all is someone who cares. The more you thought it over, he really wouldn’t have ruined your clothes on purpose. A pirate at heart, he wouldn’t want to spend money if he didn’t have to. He’d rather take things in his own hands, even if that meant poking himself with a needle.

You asked Buggy to stay there while you went back to the closet. After a few moments, you came out and bounced past him. Striking a pose, you gestured towards your new outfit, which matched his exactly. His expression brightened, finally matching the painted smile on his face. 

Buggy walked over and tugged at the hem of the vest. “Nice outfit. It looks good on you.”

You bit back a smile, wondering what he’d say next - that it looks better on him, or that it would look better on the floor. Either of which would be true.

[honey-crypt]

Hear me out Elliott and Farmer getting spicy in a library where yk you’re supposed to stay quiet because it’s a library 😍😍😍😍😍

And he’s just telling you to stfu while he’s roaming his hands all over your body 😍😍😍😍😍😍 (I need to be hit by a train I’m so down bad for Elliott it’s not even funny)

a/n: finally out of my anti-horny writing mode so this is kinda short but... enjoy :3

word count: 681

warnings: exhibitionism, groping, dom!elliott, sub!farmer, elliott living up to the vampire headcanons, gunther is a cockblock

summary: an unprompted romp with elliott in the library has you in a lust-driven tailspin.

★ no talking in the library - elliott x farmer ★

You merely were reaching for a book on the top shelf. That was it, just a book on gemstone properties! Sure, you may have forgotten that you were wearing a cropped shirt, and sure, your chest had been somewhat exposed while you were struggling to grab the book, but you were at the library. Surely, no one in their right mind would indulge such a temptation in the library of all places. 

Yet, here you were, in a forgotten corner of the library, with your boyfriend’s hands under your shirt. Elliott’s hot breath tickled your neck, as his calloused hands eagerly roamed about your torso, “Darling…” he purred, “You should be more careful,” he groped your chest and enticed a small moan from your lips, “You’re lucky I caught you in time before anyone else saw you in such a scandalous state.”

You were too stubborn to use the step stool, you were oh so sure that you could nab that silly book by standing on your tippy toes. However, one wrong move sent you falling backwards, landing on your ass and nearly taking the whole bookshelf down with you. By the interference of fate, Elliott had been the one to discover you, after being alerted by a thud and a familiar “shit!” that followed while he was pursuing the non-fiction section. When he tried to help you up, a series of bumps and poor hand placements soon lead to the current situation at hand.

You squirmed under Elliott’s grasp, it was a surprise that he could overpower you so easily. After all, you spent most days doing manual labor while he remained at his writing desk, perhaps you wanted him to play- no, toy with you. Your legs wobbled like jelly, as your boyfriend had his way with your body, your bottom lip quivering while you let out a harmony of whimpers and moans. 

Suddenly, a hand clasped your mouth, tight enough to suppress any noise you could make. Elliott leaned in close, his front pressed hard up against your back and his growing boner nestled perfectly between your ass cheeks, “Now, now, little one,” his tone was hypnotic as a siren’s song, “You know the most important rule that libraries enforce,” the writer’s lips barely grazed your neck, “Silence,” his canines abruptly sunk into your skin and pierced the supple flesh. Your cries of pain-fueled pleasure were muffled by Elliott’s iron clasp around your mouth, your mind on the fritz from being dominated in such a public space. 

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted any further motions from you and Elliott, the redhead quickly releasing his hold on you and brushing himself up to avoid suspicion. The one responsible for the interruption, Gunther, poked his head around the corner and smiled at the two of you, “Oh, good afternoon, Elliott, (Y/N). Are you two doing alright?”

“Oh, yes,” answered Elliott, returning the smile with a carefree one of his own, “I was helping (Y/N) tidy up after they took a small tumble, trying to reach a book,” the librarian eyed you and let out a small sigh, “(Y/N), you know there’s no shame in using the step stool, even I have to use it on occasion.”

“Y- Yeah, thank you,” you replied, face flushed. Gunther looked down at his wrist watch and announced to the two of you, “I do have to close up shop soon, so please vacate the library within the next thirty minutes or so.”

“We shall,” the redhead responded, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you close as to conceal his boner. Gunther gave a thumbs up and bid you farewell; once he was positive that Gunther was out of sight and hearing range, Elliott flipped positions and pinned you against the bookshelf, the spines of the books pushing lightly into your back, “It seems that we have to continue this unplanned rendezvous at my cabin, don’t you think so?”

“I think so,” was all you could muster up, too taken back by the thrill of risque intimacy.

“Good answer.”

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Welcome home cast(or just Wally,Frank and Howdy if that's too much)meeting a hairless cat puppet that likes gemstones and rocks 'n lives in a cave

You don't know the amount of hairless cat gifs I got to see before picking this one. It was amazing. I freaking love cats.

Wally, Frank and Howdy x cat puppet Reader

Wally

★ How peculiar, a cat without fur! It's not every day that he meets someone new. He asks some questions, trying to know more about you. When you tell him you live in a cave he asks if it's cozy.

★ You see better in the dark, which is why you live in said cave. Once again he asks questions. "Is that why you sleep so much during the day?" "How good is your eyesight?" And "do all cats see in the dark?" are among them.

★ Wally gives you rocks he painted and put glitter on to make them shiny. It's similar enough to a gemstone and the painted rocks have a very special place in your cave. Most are placed outside though so that they can shine in the sunlight.

★ When your eyes go "● - ●" he wants to know what has your attention. His eyes do the exact same thing, he is delighted to meet someone who has traits similar to his.

Frank

★ Frank met you through Eddie (they are married, you can't change my mind.) You get invited over for tea on the regular. With you both being scholarly it's easy to see how you get along. Just don't push anything off the table...

★ Your interest in rocks is something he actually enjoys listening to you talk about. You've written him numerous letters on the topic and have even sent him a few specimens. You two are pen pals because cats are nocturnal.

★ Eddie insists on delivering mail to you, even if you offer to just pick it up at the post office. Because it's out of town he saves it for last and by the time he gets to you he's already prepared a conversation starter.

★ You have a interest in butterflies like him. But you like to chase them while he likes to document and catch them. If he sees you catch and eat a butterfly his head will be spinning.

Howdy

★ You have fallen asleep on his rooftop while waiting for him to open up shop numerous times. Being active at night means that you are up when others are not and this can cause problems.

★ He doesn't want to wake you up so he usually just lets you sleep. While we are on the topic, he sold you catnip once. But never again. I won't go into details but it ended with you in a tree throwing paws at anyone who tried to get you down.

★ Once when you visited home to buy some stuff you and him have a very in depth conversation about how the stones in the road where carved. Because you have no fur he gives you some winter sweaters he had in stock. Wouldn't want you to get cold!

★ Howdy is intrigued by the idea of someone living in a cave. He offers to help carry some of the stuff you bought to your home if it's near closing. Don't be fooled, it's all an excuse to see your cave.

[moineauz]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐗 — 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

Tell me, who are you? I thought I saw you there But I think it was my reflection instead

★ HEADLINE ( OF SERIES ). You and your partner Childe are invited to play in an upstarting band; renaming yourselves 'The Sunbirds Six'. However, heated sparks flicker alive amongst band members, specifically you and the lead vocalist: Diluc Ragnvindr. The band continues to rise in fame, yet, the nature of their ultimate disbandment remains unknown- until now.

★ SYNOPSIS. Set before the making of The Sunbirds Six, we get a view of what was before.

SIDE COMMENTS. I've finally posted... Thank you all for the support!! Hope the timeline will make sense eventually... haha. The reader has not made their appearance quite yet!

POSTSCRIPT. alcohol, violence, angst WORD COUNT. 790

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐓, 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑."The last time the unknown band of four played was in their home nation of Mondstadt, however, the owner of the tavern at the time states that 'trouble' occurred backstage. The band of four did not play again."

WINE TRICKLES INTO KAEYA'S GLASS, VELVET AND SMOOTH while he shares a winsome smile and a curt nod to the bartender. His eyes trace over the rim of his glass while the acute clink of bottles rang and mellowed. Despite the swing notes of the piano dancing in the background and incessant chatter, all Kaeya could hear was his heartbeat. The same heart that supposedly kept him alive. That kept sure his eyes did not slumber so they could glimmer like gemstones for the world to see.

Here in the bar, no one knew him. And even if a stranger did recognize Kaeya's lush blue locks, they didn't utter a word.

"He nearly killed you."

"Hm."

Rosaria observed Kaeya as he lifted the wine glass to his lips, his eyes sparing no glance at her.

"You nearly died Kaeya."

Kaeya swishes the glass with a steady wrist roll, "You should have a glass yourself Rosaria, quite refreshing."

Rosaria sighed, seating herself at the table before whispering, "You should leave."

Kaeya’s lips rise into a tentative grin; shaking his head softly, “It will work.”

Rosaria scoffs before replying plainly, “Our band? We are not the next 'ARCHON' and I swear that Celestia is not going to grant us another stage, not after that mess."

"First, who said we were going to be the next 'ARCHON'?" Kaeya finally turns his head towards Rosaira, an amused smile tracing his supple lips, "Second, since when did you become so..." he pauses, "Devout?" he teases.

"I am neither devout nor skeptic. But, I do have a brain," Rosaria glances at Kaeya, her eyes sharp and indifferent, yet, under the worn flicker of overhead candles, there is a twinkle of tender affinity, "You're not the type of man who craves fame, so why Kaeya? Why stay?"

Kaeya abruptly slams the glass onto the smooth countertop, a chip of glass breaking off. "Because we're too good to waste away," he pauses before echoing nonchalantly, "Diluc can despise me all he wants, but I want this just as equally."

Silence fills the void space, yet, motion continues. Bartenders pace back and forth, music crescendos and falls, laughter erupts from the chest, and sweet ecstasy is gulped down ounce after ounce.

Kaeya gapes into his glass, a small pool of wine existing at the bottom, providing a reflection of himself.

"Diluc can have all of Mondstadt under his wing," Kaeya begins to no one. His voice is vague and slow, like fog draping over a city or a veil cast upon a painting, never to be remarked upon again. "But, just this once," muttered Kaeya, still peering into his own reflection, "I can be selfish."

Rosaria pauses for what seems to be another hour, allowing his words to ferment in the air or hang quietly yet defyingly, "How exactly will we, 'work'?" she questions dubiously.

Kaeya smiles before explaining factually, "We need a female vocalist, perhaps a rhythm guitarist as well."

Rosaria raises an eyebrow, her supple hands wrapping around her glass of wine as she follows up indifferently, "And how exactly are we going to have a female vocalist and rhythm guitarist?" she pauses, "If you're thinking of Barbara then I suggest you choose someone else."

Kaeya laughs, "Barbara? Oh no. I'll spare her the trouble.”

“Then how?”

Kaeya merely smirks before teasing, “Rest assured Rosaria— I’ll find someone.”

Rosaria sighs, taking the glass to her subtly tinted lips: the sensations of cool wine trickling down her throat. “Well, take all the time you need.”

“Oh? How so?”

Rosaria places the glass on the table, her gaze set forward, “Diluc announced a hiatus.”

“He did?” Kaeya muses, “But no disbandment?”

Rosaria pauses before nodding tentatively, her slender hands tapping on the wood.

Kaeya chuckles shortly, however, his eyes remain fixed on the pool of wine. He then questions Rosaria, a touch wistful, “Am I still in?”

“He never said anything otherwise.”

“Hm.”

Rosaria stops tapping her finger as she reaches in her pocket, placing mora on the table. “Go home Kaeya.” Rosaria then tucks the barstool in, fading into the bustling background of the cites bars- the night still young.

Kaeya remains seated at the table. Whilst his heart beats; pumping blood through his veins, steady and rhythmically like the anchored strum of his guitar. The music coursed through his hands, tangible and electric yet cool. Kaeya could bend it in his hands, twist it and mould it like a potter does in a fashion unachieved by many.

His elbows eased on the countertop, muscle after muscle. Kaeya's hands intertwined with themselves, crossing over as if in prayer and brought to his lips.

What happens when a heart ceases to beat?

"How could you, Kaeya?"

The music stops.

TAGLIST. @aphrodict @tragedy-of-commons @jemvia feel free to join the taglist through an ask!!

[stranger-from-beyond]

Questions 4 & 8 for alterhuman questionnaire thing (Sorry if either of those have been already asked- I checked)

♡-♤-◇-♤-♡

4. My favorite time of day?.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

Ah, I very much enjoy the nighttime around 3:00am, as it is always quiet, and dark - and nobody expects you to do anything at all.𖥔 ˖

8. My favorite gemstone?⋆｡𖦹˚.★

I love Amethyst and Amber - rather standart, though I find myself having a special connection with them✩࿐

[donaviolet]

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ WELCOME TO MY CHAOTIC SILLY UNIVERSE >:3 ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

Sooo there's a lot of stuff I want to pin but I can only pin one thing at once so I decided to make a masterpost/welcome post!!

first of all here are some cool links :D

Mega Compilation of Cursed Reaction Pics

Site where you can make these heart locker gif thingies

Picrew Database

NASA site with a lot of stuff

Astronomy Picture of the Day

Fonts generator

Some art reference sites

DND Assets

Site where you can download these cursed blue emojis

How to download YT videos without these weird websites

Food Timeline

List of Gemstones

Website for downloading any video

Color Blender

How to find a very specific word you don't know the name of

Video essays about horror

RPG / Videogame-making assets

A LOT OF EXTRA LINKS. A LOT. (They're very cool tho <3)

Super Secret Link Do Not Click

Now abt me!!

✧Feel free to call me Donaviolet, Violet or whatever you want to :>

✧INFP, she/they, bi disaster🩷💜🩵 , brazilian, still a minor 💪✌️👍

✧ I speak portuguese, english and german, and I'm currently also learning french, spanish and russian

✧ I love writing, drawing, listening to music, playing games and being silly in general. I also love space and plan on becoming an astrophysicist!!

✧ AND I have a lot of OCs and I am creating an original story called The Day The World Restarted! I haven't posted about it properly yet but I promise one day I'll introduce the characters and explain the plot 🫶🫶 feel free to ask about it I will gladly answer!! (this was originally meant to be an oc ask blog but yea)

✧ If we become mutuals you will be forever my beloved pookie theres no going back /hj

✧ I often queue my reblogs, so if I like your post and then some months later it randomly appears that I reblogged from you, this is what happened :P

✧Some fandoms I'm into: BG3, Arcane, Danganronpa, Bungou Stray Dogs, Undertale, Deltarune, The Owl House, Omori, Spiderverse, Lord of the Rings, Mob Psycho, FNAF, Goncharov, Studio Ghibli and yes I had a Genshin/Honkai phase lol (there might me some other fandoms too, but I either already left them or forgor)

✧ Other stuff I like: RPGs, space (again) cats, mushrooms, cottagecore stuff, cute stuff (and for some reason creepy stuff too), stories and myths, strawberries, and you! <3

✧ My favorite music bands/musicians: Cavetown, Madilyn Mei, Mitski, Lemon Demon, Tally Hall, Will Wood, Panic! At The Disco, Kikuo, Toby Fox, Arctic Monkeys, Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, Jack Stauber, Odetari, Gorillaz and I guess I could go on for centuries lol, I love music ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

✧ I lied I don't like cats. I LOVE cats. theyre just perfect lil skrunklies. most adorable thingies in the world. I really hope to have one someday

✧ Part of the Shadow Wizard Money Gang

✧ Please DNI if you're a proshipper, homophobic, transphobic or anything of that kind

thats it for now baiii :3

[romanoffstarkovs]

BACK TO DECEMBER

pairing : nikolai lantsov x reader

summary : Y/N, a grisha raised at the little palace, forms an unbreakable bond with her childhood friend Nikolai, possibly evolving into something deeper. However, Nikolai shatters her heart when he discloses his departure for the University of Ketterdam. Years later, Y/N encounters a mysterious privateer known as Sturmhond.

A/N : hello dear reader! this is my first one shot so leave me some comments and critiques! enjoy!

⋆ ★

Y/n sat on the steps outside the little palace, her mind wandering through a labyrinth of thoughts. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. She was startled when a familiar voice interrupted her reverie.

“Well, well, well, if it isn't the daydreaming y/n," Nikolai teased as he sauntered toward her. He flashed a charming smile, his blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight.

“Oh, look who decided to grace us with his presence," Y/n retorted, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "I was beginning to think you were too busy charming the ladies to notice your old friend."

Nikolai chuckled, taking a seat beside her. "You know you're my favorite lady, y/n. No one can compete with that."

Y/n and Nikolai were inseparable since they were children, and their bond had only grown stronger as they matured. As the conversation between the two shifted, Nikolai's playful demeanor changed, and his face turned serious.

“Y/n, there's something I need to tell you," Nikolai began, his tone carrying a hint of sadness. "I'm leaving for the University of Ketterdam."

The news hit y/n like a cold gust of wind. "Leaving? But why? When?"

Nikolai looked down, seemingly torn by his decision. "I've been accepted to study at the university, and the opportunity is too good to pass up. It's a chance to learn, to grow, and maybe even find a way to help Ravka in the future. But I'll miss you, y/n. You've been my anchor through everything."

Tears welled up in y/n’s eyes, and she turned away to hide her emotions. "You can't just leave me, Nikolai. What will I do without you?"

Nikolai reached out and gently gripped her chin toward him. "You're stronger than you think, y/n. And distance won't change our friendship. Here, I have something for you." He produced a small box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a delicate necklace with a small, shimmering gemstone.

“For me?" Y/n whispered, her heart aching with bittersweet emotions.

Nikolai nodded. "It's a way for you to carry a piece of me wherever you go. Whenever you wear this necklace, remember that I'm with you, cheering you on, no matter the distance."

He carefully fastened the necklace around her neck, his fingers brushing gently against her skin. As their eyes met, the unspoken feelings between them hung heavy in the air. Nikolai leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on y/n’s cheek, a tender farewell.

“Goodbye, y/n," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n couldn't hold back her tears any longer, and she wrapped her arms around Nikolai, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Promise me we'll stay in touch," she managed to say through her tears.

Nikolai hugged her back just as tightly. "I promise, y/n. We'll write letters, share stories, and when I come back, we'll pick up right where we left off."

They stayed entwined for a few more moments, cherishing the time they had left together. When they finally pulled away, Nikolai wiped away a tear from y/n’s cheek and offered her a reassuring smile.

“I'll miss you, Nikolai," she whispered.

“And I'll miss you, my dear y/n. But this isn't goodbye forever; it's just the beginning of a new chapter in our lives," Nikolai said, trying to inject a sense of hope into the farewell.

With heavy hearts, they parted ways that evening, but the bond they shared remained unbroken. Y/n clutched the necklace close to her heart, finding comfort in Nikolai's words. No matter the distance, their friendship would endure, and they would always be connected, forever bound by the memories they had created together

•

In the bustling streets of Ketterdam, y/n weaved her way through the crowd, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She had followed whispers and rumors, chasing after the elusive privateer known as Sturmhond, hoping against hope that it was Nikolai, her childhood friend. The man with ruddy red hair, a broken nose, and muddy green eyes somehow bore a striking resemblance to the prince she had once known so well.

As she approached him, he glanced in her direction, and she felt a jolt of recognition. There was something oddly familiar in his eyes, a spark that ignited a glimmer of hope within her. Y/n couldn't help but reach for the necklace hanging around her neck, a nervous habit she had developed over the years.

He studied her, something akin to reconciliation in his eyes. “Hello there," Sturmhond said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "That's a pretty necklace you have."

Her heart pounded louder, and she felt a mix of emotions surge through her. "It's you, isn't it?" she blurted out, her voice a mix of excitement and frustration.

Sturmhond's eyes flickered with surprise, and he hesitated for a moment before answering, "What makes you say that?"

Y/n pointedly glared at him and then at the necklace. "This necklace belonged to Nikolai. He gave it to me before he left, and I'm certain you're him."

He touched the necklace gently, fingertips gently caressing the gem, his expression softening. "You're right. It is me. Nikolai Lanstov, at your service."

Anger bubbled up inside her, and she couldn't contain it any longer. She pushed him with a forceful shove, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you leave me? Why didn't you tell me?"

Nikolai, or Sturmhond as he now called himself, held his ground, his eyes filled with remorse. "I never left you, y/n. I've always been right here." He pointed to the necklace safely tucked around her neck.

She scoffed, wiping away a stray tear. "That's not the same, dumbass," she retorted, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.

He took a step closer, reaching out as if to touch her cheek, but she flinched away. "I'm sorry, y/n. I never meant to hurt you. Leaving was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but it was necessary. There were things I needed to learn, challenges I had to face."

“Why didn't you take me with you?" she whispered, her anger subsiding into a mix of sadness and longing.

Nikolai's eyes softened, and he looked at her with such intensity that it took her breath away. "I didn't want to burden you with my responsibilities. I wanted to make something of myself first, so I could come back and be the person you deserved."

She shook her head, tears flowing freely now. "You didn't have to do it alone. We could have faced everything together, just like we used to."

Nikolai's voice cracked as he confessed, "I was afraid, y/n. Afraid of losing you, afraid of failing you. But I can't keep pretending anymore. I love you, and I never stopped loving you."

His words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Y/n looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability in them, and the weight of her anger began to lift.

“I love you too," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nikolai stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. "Please forgive me," he pleaded.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I forgive you."

With that, they closed the distance between them, embracing each other in a tight hug. It felt like coming home after a long and arduous journey. In that moment, the years of separation melted away, and they were once again the inseparable friends they had always been.

[canonical-transformation]

Things I would spend money on:

groceries

rent

5★ Ningguang skin where all her gemstones are an assortment of colours; also, trousers

[sparkledlotus]

✨️💟AVAILABLE In my Etsy SHOP!💟✨️

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▪︎METAL: Antiqued brass wrapping wire & antiqued bronze textured chain & twisted rings

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