#coucou talks
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the amount of great reactions I get on this comic that I made a while ago until today... it doesn't compare to anything else I've drawn and posted so far. I really love to see it but also it really makes me wonder what exactly pulls everyone in so much since in my opinion it's not exactly my cleanest work of art but rather quick sketches that I put out there to show what I randomly had in mind for Claude (not expecting this much positive feedback either of course). actually it's kind of a mess, because of the hasty linework and the sometimes gappy pacing of the comic. imo it could be much better, and yet... Idk guys, is it really that mindblowing?? I don't get it.
I need to crack the code, LOL
Please feel free to constructively tell me in my asks what you look for in my art, what you like or don't really like / feel indifferent about, and with which sentiment you leave my posts/account. I would like to offer you more of what you truly enjoy.
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I think the fact they have this obscene amount of money allows me to believe they're still together. In spite of their crazy schedules that keep them continents apart, this does not mean they don't see eachother all the time. Traveling for them is not like us poor people. They don't have to arrive at the airport 3 hours before flight with layovers in random cities. They can get chauffeured direct to a private jet that in hours flys them to wherever the other one is.
About them not being photographed together, well we don't get pictures of what could be their actual relationships either. Unless you think Brad and Harry are a thing?
This is just BEGGING for a toilet shot, but I'm gonna let it slide for a quick sec because this is what I mean, this is where it all starts tilting into ao3 land, only from 10 years ago. For sure, they have a shit ton of money, they could fly anywhere, but is that what's really happening? Like, if you had to weigh the options of what's going on when you see one in one city, the other in another one, there's a five-hour-plus time difference or whatever, they're spotted with multiple people in whatever place they're meant to be in, but you're still clinging to the idea that private jets are whisking them into a city, 100000% unspotted/unnoticed, then back again xx hours later?? Like, constantly and consistently? Reminds me of the old days (well, I guess the current days for some) and the lack of object permanence, ooh, we haven't seen Harry in 24 hours, he's OBVIOUSLY in [insert name of city where Louis's on tour], waiting in a hotel room. Uh oh, turns out he was working on some other project we didn't know about because we aren't on his team or sharing his google calendar? Doesn't matter, he wasn't unspotted on main for an hour, ipso facto, he was with Louis!
Look, if everything else was lining up, all the other points that are spelling out in this precise moment that this isn't rock-solid #husbands, #theyneverbrokeup, maybe I could buy it, but it isn't! And since you asked, I think Brad's actually a symbol of something much, much sadder (at least in the story in my own mind), but rather than getting up in google's ass to track flights to prove that Harry's somehow magically teleporting into Boston or wherever, yeah, I sure would rather read someone's riDICKulous bradrry proof post, it beats the new spin on the ole airport trickeroo of yore
#i feel confident that it's pretty coucou bananas ESPECIALLY when you're talking long-haul international flights#but go on and write that story!#there's literally nothing wrong with a messy story of on again/off again#it could go on again someday!#faith in the future innit#but it's also okay to just admit that it isn't 2014 anymore#that you have no fucking clue#that you never did--you just thought so because you had 24/7 access for about 5 years#and you don't anymore!#people grow and change and shit happens#this isn't YOUR romance#it's okay to sit back and let it play out rather than just fantasize about the carbon damage these 2 MIGHT be doing to live a fic#makes me think of that whole doja cat brew ha ha happening right now
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the funniest outcome from realising i'm ace is probably the fact that I accepted that i was more into men than i thought ?
Also hanging out with lesbians that were like "it's nice how u like him but i just don't see it 😃👍" the same way I did when people show me "sexually attractive people" helped a lot 🧍🏼♂️
#ace#asexuality#i am reminded this everytime i have a masculine fav#and i wanna ramble about it to my lesbian bestie and she stares like :) cute#while my gay (coucou isaac) friend gets wayyy more excited#nano.txt#also Isaac ftg don't talk to me /j
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the fuck of all the brat stuff is that charli xcx is to the the subgenre of grunge girl pop as MGK is to punk rock 😭💀
#like listen to coucou chloe or shygirl albums or something then talk to me#like I believe its authentically something she likes#but#the edge is not there#brat
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✩°。⋆ pas de deux, ln4 ⋆。°✩
next part
pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader
[face claim: luna montana is largely used as faceclaim but some other pinterest girlies in there too]
summary: y/n is new to monaco and quickly finds herself dancing with mclaren driver lando norris despite all intentions she has of focusing on only her career
a/n: this is my first smau ever, any feedback is appreciated :) also, i am not a ballet dancer by any means so i apologize for any misuse of terms or incorrect depictions
yn.ballet
liked by ybfusername, and 3,437 others.
yn.ballet coucou monaco
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username1 mother moved to monaco ??
ybfusername you left me in london :/
╰ ynusername you could always come here
username2 please god i-
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"hows monaco ma fille," your mother said to you over the phone.
"s'alright maman, i finished unpacking everything today," you sigh. "i got to tour the company and meet the instructors before classes start next week."
you can hear her sigh before asking, "have you spoken with your father?"
"not since he kicked me out, and i dont plan to speak to him. i've said what i needed to say to him,"
"i expected more maturity from you y/n,"
"he's an adult, if he has something else to say to me he can reach out. i'm done talking about this. goodnight maman love you," you say hanging up the phone
⟡⟡⟡
⟡⟡⟡
staring around you can't help but feel overwhelmed by the half-filled flat surrounding you. reflections of the street lights outside your window shine on the wall, highlighting the lack of decorations. there's no trace of you here yet, nothing but empty walls and boxes. you can only hope that in time it will feel like home.
⟡⟡⟡
landonorris
liked by carlossainz, mclaren, and 758,681 others.
landonorris miamiiii you brought the heat, now onto monaco
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username1 slay landooooooo
mclaren lando 🤝 helmet designs
username2 MIAMIIII
#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#instagram au#social media au#f1#f1 smau#lando norris#lando x reader#ln4#ballet
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Coucou ! What’s some good advice you want to share ? And what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for ? Please 😊
Coucou toi!! Merci pour les questions 🥰
So as I already said one advice in another ask, I'll try and think about another.
I think you should never be afraid to try new things! I know it can be scary and most people are ashamed of themselves when starting a new thing, and this could apply to anything in life: an artistic hobby, a new sport, a new academic field, etc. But it's totally okay to be shitty at things! Nothing has to be perfect!! So please, try, try, try, without being afraid to fail!!
And mmmh, you're asking a tough one lmao! I'm not very talented at talking well about myself. I guess, maybe my friendliness? I usually like to put people at ease and just share some human warmth with others!
Très bonne journée à toi ma mutu baguette 🥖
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Distracting kiss
Pairing: Daniel Brühl x gn!reader
Summary: Reader is feeling lonely on the set of Falcon and the Winter Soldier and just want some attention from their husband.
Word count: ~~
Warnings: PDA, reader is mischievous, fluff, only one French sentence and one in Spanish.
Author's note: I don't think I will finish the flufftober, I have been really busy and lost the want to write, this is the first thing I have written in a few weeks so... yeah. Also, it's my first time writing for Daniel Brühl so please, be indulgent. (There are not enough fanfics about this man, I swear-) AS ALWAYS: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGAGE
Author's feelings: I quite like this one, especially since it's been a while since I wrote and posted something.
The cast was on a break after the whole afternoon of shooting for an episode of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier series. There was only one scene left to shoot, and while some actors preferred to laugh together or eat something, Daniel was sitting on a chair rereading his script.
Y/N wanted their husband to spend more time with them even if they knew they technically were at work. They watched him from a few feet away. He seemed so entranced in what he was doing. His eyebrows were scrunched in a little frown they wanted to kiss away so badly, his delicate lips in a small, concentrated pout.
'He looks so cute.' Y/N thought, and they were sure they had a dreaming and love-sick expression on their face that anyone could see, but they didn't care.
"Why don't you go get your man?" A deep voice pulled them out of their reverie.
"Don't scare me like that, Seb!" They chastised with a slap to his arm.
"You just were so busy staring at Daniel that you didn't hear me talking to you." He clarified before taking a bite out of his pastries. "But anyway, go get him." He repeated as he pushed them slightly towards their husband.
"You know what? I have a better idea." They said with a mischievous smirk and departed in Daniel's direction.
Y/N sneaked behind him, being careful not to be heard. When they were close enough, they slid their arms around his neck, bending a little to be able to rest their head on his shoulder. He was a little startled at first but relaxed when he realized it was only his partner. He turned his head toward them and smiled back at them before going back to memorizing the script.
Y/N wasn't having it. They nuzzle their face in his neck before placing a slow, deep kiss on his neck, right below his ear. He leaned into the kiss, his eyes closed and a soft sigh escaping his lips.
"I love you." They whispered against his skin.
He didn't have time to fully understand what Y/N said before he felt them pull away and leave.
When they turned away, going back to Sebastian, who witnessed the whole thing, they had a satisfied smirk on their lips.
Daniel tried to focus back on the task at hand, but it seemed like the kiss sucked out all of his focus. He tried and tried to read the text, but he just found himself re-reading the same line again and again. After a few frustrating seconds, he found himself standing up and walking where he knew his lover would be: talking to their best friend Sebastian.
Y/N counted down out loud the seconds it would take their husband to go to them. And right on time, they felt two strong arms wrap around their waist and their husband's head on their shoulders. Y/N bend their arm to play with the man's hair just like he liked it with a smirk still plastered on their face.
"Hola, mi amor." He purred against their neck.
"Coucou, mon cœur." They smiled at him. "Told you I had a better idea, Seb." They teased the man who had a smile stretched on his face.
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Translation: "Coucou, mon cœur" -> "Hi, sweetheart."
"Hola, mi amor" -> "Hello, my love"
#daniel brühl#daniel brühl x reader#fluff#fic#nonbinary#non binary character#original work#i wrote it#i wrote this on my phone#i love him#i love this man so much
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What's the difference between "Приветик" and "Привет", is one less formal? :3c
-bulle
Yep! ☆ “Привет” is “Hello” and “Приветик” is “Hi” (even more informal maybe xp)
UPD:
(≧∀≦) Salut!! (Do you have different types of "hello/hi"? :D)
And how are you doing lately?? (ówò)
@bluepallilworld OH I like these options! *w*
We use "coucou" too but in more sarcastic way x) And "Hey/Yo" as well but "Hello" sounds kinda off xp Rebonjour sounds so cool!! We say "Hi again" sometimes, but if you want to sound old and fancy (or funny heh), you can say "И снова здравствуйте" ("Well again, hello") ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Lazy days are good days too <3 What was the event about? *^* I don't remember seeing sketches on your blog (maybe just missed them, so sorry ówò)
That very book we've talked about?? \(//∇//)\
OMG I don't remember either— gotta recheck :D Looking forward to it!! Have a good rest after that <3
Perhaps the funniest article from today is that we can no longer host a summer swim with rubber dolls (yes, dolls from adult stores. Yes, we have such a swim. No comments XD)
All in all, I'm doing very productive with drawing (one thing is coming tonight) ;3 How's your day going?? ☆
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All of my other art links: HERE
You can buy me a coffee here ;3
https://ko-fi.com/bialbovi
And you can get an art drawn by me/commission here :3
https://bialbovi.carrd.co/
COUCOU! Welcome! To my tumblr
Here, I post a lot of my art, but not always work in progress, and they can be delayed (I post my wips on BLUESKY, and there I write random everyday stuff)
Currently, I am obsessing over Transformers MTMTE (comic) and Transformers One (film)
🪽☀️ ABOUT MY CHARACTERS (OCS)
I love them a lot
I use #bialbovi art as my main art tag and #bialbovi oc for anything related to my characters, #bialbovi sketchbook is my new sketchbook art tag :D
You can find some cookie run fanart and transformers fanart on my page :3
These are my random posts where I talk about stuff #albo tryndyt'
If you want to check out other Ukrainian artists, we post under this tag #украрт
📖📓✏️✍️
🚫🚫🚫
I'll be blocking for ai "art", adoration of russia, homophobia-ableism-sexism-transphobia, and so on
18.12.2024
#ура ура оновлення закріпленого посту#укртумбочка#украрт#art#oc#sketchbook#sketch#meet the artist#bialbovi art#artists on tumblr#traditional art#digital art#drawing#albo tryndyt'#bialbovi oc
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Coucou !
Je viens de découvrir Pia and the Tiny Little Things et je l'ai trouvée absolument géniale !
J'adore le style graphique, les personnages, les thèmes... Tout quoi ! Pia est très relatable et j'espère que les choses vont s'améliorer pour iel.
J'étais enchanté de voir que les nouvelles pages avaient repris, c'trop cool :)
Et merci beaucoup pour la traduction, j'imagine que ça fait du travail en plus mais c'est tellement rare de lire une histoire avec des problématiques queer en français, et ça c'est trop bien. J'ai l'habitude de les voir en anglais (oui, je sais, on est sur Tumblr, c'est pas une surprise) et ça les rend plus proches de les voir en français.
Et une petite question (si tu as le temps et que ce n'est pas un spoiler) : j'ai l'impression qu'Edou est ND (neurodivergent), est-ce moi qui projette mon propre autisme (ce qui est bien possible :')) ou est-ce délibéré ?
Ne te sens pas obligé•e de répondre, bien sûr, on est entre introvertis ^^°
Encore merci pour ce que tu fais !
<3
Coucou! Merci pour tes éloges, ça fait toujours plaize :)
Je n'ai pour l'instant jamais écrit un personnage avec l'idée précise de le faire ND, parce que je n'ai pas moi même d'experience avec l'autisme et je commence juste à en parler et découvrir vraiment chez des personnes proches, donc peut être qu'un jour ça arrivera! Par contre, plusieurs lecteur.ices ont déjà posé la question pour plusieurs persos (que ce soit dans LTT ou dans Go Get a Roomie) et je suis tout pour qu'iels puissent se retrouver dans mes personnages, donc si un des mes persos devient ND pour eux ça me va très bien!
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ENGLISH TIME:
I was asked if Edou (from Little Tiny Things) was ND (neuro-divergent) and I answered that so far, I've never written a character that was explicitly ND just because I don't have that experience, and I only recently started talking with close friends that have autistic experiences. So one day, perhaps, I'll create characters with this characteristic in mind! Now that I know more.
But I'm also glad that readers, who have asked me the question before for other characters of mine, can project and relate with them, regardless of whether I wrote them that way or not.
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one thing I absolutely love about tumblr that only exists here is the way many people unrestrainedly pour out their thoughts and reactions in the tags when otherwise they would hesitate writing it in regular comments on other platforms and I live for it. thank you everyone for liking my latest piece, it's been 162494 years since I drew anything FE3H related and I desperately needed this. it feels like I'm back home
#coucou talks#feeling very satisfied#also I didn't expect such a strong reaction on all social platforms#this grandfather/failnaught scene isn't perfectly elaborated I would love to make a fleshed out comic for this#but I'm a terribly weak writer and extremely insecure about writing up dialogues#super insecure about writing in general as much as I want to#anyway thank you everyone it's a real joy to be here again and be productive in this fandom#I still love claude as always
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Time to talk about Tholomyès' horse poem again!
The form of the poem is taken directly from a 1599 poem by François de Malherbe titled "Consolation à M. Du Périer - Stances sur la mort de sa fille" (Consolation to M. Du Périer - Stanzas about the death of his daughter). The lines within the poem that Tholomyès is referencing are:
Mais elle était du monde, où les plus belles choses Ont le pire destin ; Et rose¹ elle a vécu ce que vivent les roses, L'espace d'un matin. But she was of the world, where the most beautiful things Have the worst destiny; And rose (pink)¹ she lived what roses live, The space of a morning.
1. It's not uncommon in French to refer to someone as "rose" much like how in English you would refer to someone as "rosy cheeked." Cosette many times, and even young Marius, get described with just the adjective "rose" in Les Mis.
Tholomyès' parody reads:
Elle¹ était de ce monde où coucous et carrosses Ont le même destin, Et, rosse², elle a vécu ce que vivent les rosses, L'espace d'un : mâtin!³ She¹ was of this world where horse-drawn coaches and carriages Have the same destiny, And, nag², she lived what nags live, The space of a: morning!³
1. "She" referring to the horse that just fell 2. The word "rosse" in French means a nag, as in a pejorative word for a horse (as well as a nasty, unpleasant person) and is a pun on the word "rose" (the color pink or the flower) used in the original. Thanks to @persefoneshalott for bringing that one to my attention last year! 3. The word in French here sounds exactly like "morning" (matin) but is written as "mâtin," the word the cart driver yelled while cracking his whip at his horse. Mâtin means "mastiff" as well as "boar, oaf" and can also be an exclamation like "heavens!" In the text it refers to it as a "sacramental word."
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𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒂 𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔— f!reader x captain rex. divorcee au.
it gets so lonely in my mansion... other fics of note in this series: you should probably leave | starting over | i might say something stupid. cw: drinking, yearning, rex isn't a natural blonde, secret relationships
You feel good. You’ve had half a bottle of sauvignon blanc by your pool and have made a dent in the romance book recommended to you. The sun has set, and you’re fresh from the shower, all lathered in lotions and in your silken pyjamas, standing in your kitchen.
You feel like you’re twenty again. Only this time, your kitchen is bigger, your family larger. The butterflies on new romance still dance within you.
There’s a jazz record on the stereo, lazily spinning around. You pour yourself another glass of wine and glance at your phone on the counter. Your vision narrows on it. Picking it up, you check the time on the little face. 9:54.
It’s too late to call someone. It’s too late to call someone.
That’s what you tell yourself. But your body decides differently, instead scrolling through your contacts until you come across Rex’s.
The number dials. You wait for an answer. There is none. You don’t leave a message when prompted.
Instead you put your phone away and help yourself to a square of dark chocolate. Then another. And another. And suddenly it’s 10:17, there’s two squares of chocolate left, and you’re dialing Rex’s number again.
It rings until you get to voicemail. Maybe he’s asleep already.
Beep. “Coucou,” you say, words a little slippery. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m calling… It’s just… I’m bored and lonely. And it’s late. I should go to bed. I’m sorry. You don’t have to call me back. I’ll see you when I see you next.”
You hang up. Groan. Down your glass of wine, though you should probably stop.
Rex steps out of the bathroom with his hair freshly dyed, skin lotioned and in his boxers. His phone rests on his beside table– He thought he heard it ringing. Picking it up, he’s a little surprised to see that he has two missed calls from you. Nonetheless, his heart flutters in his chest. More than it should.
He sits on the side of his bed to listen to the voicemail, heart thrumming in his chest the entire time. He deduces that you’re definitely drinking, but this is… His heart skips a beat again.
The phone rings a few times before you answer it. Rex speaks first.
He drawls your name with his hello.
“Hi, Rex,” you say, sounding a bit embarrassed.
“You having fun tonight?” He asks.
“No,” you bemoan. A breath leaves your lips as you sit down on the couch.
“Why’s that?” Rex asks.
You’re thinking what he wants to hear. He’s not there.
“I’m just… I’m bored. And I don’t want to go to sleep yet.”
Rex lays back on his bed, running a hand over the top of his head. “Why’s that?”
You let out a sigh. Your words sound like a whine. “I don’t know. I should go to sleep.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Rex says, though his words are selfish. He’s not done talking to you. It’s almost a plea. Stay on the line for a little longer.
Rex hears the sound of wine pouring. He swallows.
“Do you want some company?” He offers.
“You don’t need to do that,” you say.
“I don’t mind.”
There’s a moment of quiet. “Um, you don’t have to come over. If you don’t want to.”
“Let me get dressed,” Rex says, all too willing.
“If you’re already in your pyjamas, you don’t… The phone is fine.”
“I was just getting out of the shower,” Rex adds. “It’s really fine.”
There’s a little sniffle on the other end of the line. “You live across town.”
“I don’t mind, really.”
“Really?”
“I’ll be there in twenty,” Rex says. “Stay awake until then?”
“You can just let yourself in,” you say. “I’ll be in the backyard.”
“Having a cigarette?”
You giggle. “No. Air is nice out tonight.”
“Good girl.” Rex doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches over the receiver. “Save me a glass, alright?”
“We can share,” you hum. “Can you bring something to sleep in?”
“For me or for you?”
Rex can imagine you twirling your hair. “Both.”
“Am I spending the night?”
There’s a beat of pause. “It just gets so lonely.”
“Okay,” Rex says gently. “I’ll be right there.”
“Okay,” you reply, not moving to hang up.
“I’m going to hang up now,” Rex warns.
“Are you?”
“Yeah. You’ll see me soon.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be there in person,” Rex promises.
“I know.”
Rex chuckles. “I’ll see you soon.” He calls you by your first name and your maiden name.
There’s a dreamy sigh on the other end.
“I’ll see you soon,” Rex promises again. “Bye.” Your name is still gentle on his tongue.
“Bye,” you say, all soft.
Rex reluctantly hangs up the phone. He gets dressed, as casual as he can be. Wears jeans so he has something respectable to leave your house in the morning. He grabs pyjamas– Two sets– and a pizza out of the freezer.
He’s at your house in ten minutes. Letting himself in, he sets the pyjamas on the kitchen island counter. He also turns on your oven, leaving the pizza out on the counter. The patio light is on, he can see you sitting on the couch outside, glass of wine in your hand.
There’s no getting around startling you as he opens the door to your patio.
“Rex,” you breathe, hand on your chest. You’re already in pyjamas, a silken matching set.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Rex says, closing the door behind him.
“Hi,” you say, head tilting back as he comes to stand before you. His hand rests on the side of your face, fingers dipping into your hair.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Rex says. You lean into his touch. “How are you?”
“Miss my kids,” you admit. With the hand not holding your wine glass, you loop a finger in Rex’s belt loops.
“I bet.” Rex sympathizes with you, everytime he drops his kids off there’s a pang in his chest. “I brought you a gift.”
Your eyes light up. “Really?”
“I have ‘jamas for you. And I brought a frozen pizza.”
“You’re wearing real pants.”
“Want to be decent when I leave in the morning.”
You hum, leaning forward despite your best judgment, to rest your head against Rex’s stomach. His fingers card through your hair to rest at the back of your head. “I’m going to make you such a good breakfast in the morning.”
Rex chuckles. His hand slides from your hair to your upper back, across your shoulder blades, fingers dipping under the straps of your silk camisole. “Why do you want to change out of this?”
“I got oil on it,” you drawl. Tilt your head up to look at Rex. “Do you want me to stay in it?”
“I think you look pretty in this,” Rex says.
“I’ll be prettier in your clothes.”
“Maybe with a little more food in your belly,” Rex suggests.
Guilt churns in your stomach. “You take such good care of me.”
“It’s an honor to.” There’s nothing but sincerity in Rex’s tone.
Standing in the kitchen, Rex places the pizza in the oven. As he straightens up, he looks over at you already taking off your shirt.
“Woah,” Rex says, coming over before you can lift the camisole over your breasts, “Let’s get you upstairs, sweetheart. Grab the ‘jamas.”
You pick them up, a few moments before Rex’s arms are around your thighs and he’s lifting you up over his shoulder. You shriek, stomach flipping at how easily he heaves you up. Rex pats your thigh, carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom.
You don’t even pretend to want to be put down.
Rex plops you down on the soft carpet of your bedroom, smiling fondly at you.
“No one’s gonna see me in my kitchen,” you say.
“It’s the principle of it,” Rex says. “You want to get changed somewhere else other than your bedroom?”
You shrug. “I don’t care.” Pulling your camiole off you, pluck a flannel up out of the pile of clothes. You shrug it on, aware of Rex’s gaze on you. He brushes your hands away, buttoning up the soft fabric for you.
“Be honest… Did you just want me in my bedroom?” You tease.
Rex looks up from his work. “We’ll be back here when you’re ready to go to bed.”
“Maybe we can make out a little bit,” you suggest, resting a hand on Rex’s chest. His heart thrums beneath your palm.
“You want to make out a little bit?”
“I’ve been good,” you say, defending yourself against nothing. “I haven’t had a cigarette in five months. So I think that deserves a makeout. Also. You’ve been here for so long and I haven’t even gotten a kiss.”
Rex has been at your house for ten minutes. Nonetheless, he chuckles and leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tilting your head, you lean up to press a kiss to his lips. There’s a hint of stubble as your lips pass over his. Rex pulls away before you can deepen the kiss.
“You’re tipsy,” Rex says, placing his hands on your shoulders. “We can keep kissing after you’ve had some food.”
Sighing, you nod. It’s upsetting on the surface, mostly because his unwillingness is attractive. There is no push for you to continue, no urgency that because you’re tipsy it’s important to give into carnal desires. You slide off your pyjama pants, the length of Rex’s flannel keeping you decent.
You plop down on your bed, watching as Rex changes, leaning back against your hand. For a moment, you consider yourself the luckiest girl in the world that his ex cheated on him. That both of your marriages crashed and burned. Otherwise, how else would you end up together?
Rex has told you before how he works out with his teenager, and it shows. The muscles on his back move as he shrugs on a t-shirt. His forearms flex as he undoes his jeans, exchanging them for soft flannel pants.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Rex grabs your arm before you can fall backwards on the bed. “Where’re you going?”
“Nowhere,” you smile.
“Nowhere?” Rex parrots back, taking your other hand in his. He pulls you up to both feet. You go easily.
Ever since the two of you had started whatever this is— This company that you keep— Rex has noticed that you’re softer when it’s just the two of you. That you go easier, that you let loose a little more.
“Nowhere,” you confirm.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” Rex says. You place another kiss against his cheek, then another at the corner of his mouth.
“I love it when you call me that,” you coo.
“Do you?”
You nod.
Rex squeezes your hip. “It’s true… Don’t think there’s a better word to describe you.”
“Sometimes you call me gorgeous.”
“That’s another good one.” Rex smiles, eyes crinkling.
He gets you downstairs, unwilling to escape the kisses that you place upon him, returning them once you’re standing in the kitchen, warmed by the heat of the oven. You give him a presentation of the wine: A vino vert from Spain, dressed in a green bottle to match its name. It’s ice cold and sweeter than you normally like, but it’s been a fun treat for the day.
It isn’t the best pairing for DiGiorno, but it’ll do. It’ll do, when the company is so good.
“I should have asked you to bring a bathing suit,” you lament, looking out towards the pool, lit up by lights within it.
“I might as well keep one here,” Rex says, dipping his pizza slice in ranch dressing. “You say that everytime I come over.”
“And yet you still don’t bring one,” you tease, shaking your head.
“I have other things on my mind when you call.”
“Oh?”
Rex meets your gaze. “I’m not thinking about bringing a swimsuit.”
“What are you thinking about?”
Rex lets you fish. “Thinking about getting over here as fast as possible. Want to be around you.”
Pleased with that answer, you set the crust of your slice on Rex’s plate. Picking up a fresh slice, you take a bite.
“I’m going to buy you a swimsuit to keep here.”
Rex is quiet for a moment.
You glance over. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says.
You regard him for a few moments. “We don’t have to wear swimsuits, you know.”
Rex’s gaze flashes from your eyes to his plate. The tops of his ears turn pink. “That’s what I was thinking,” he admits, looking at the oil atop the pizza instead of you. “But we can’t go swimming tonight.”
“Because I’ve been drinking,” you say, as if you’ve said it a thousand times.
“Safety first.”
“I think you’d save me if I was drowning. You’d give me mouth to mouth.”
Rex chuckles. “I can give you ‘mouth to mouth’ without needing to fracture your sternum.”
You pause. “What?”
“When you’re giving CPR you fracture the sternum. Or dislocate a rib. But it keeps you alive.”
You blink at Rex.
He wipes his hands on the paper towel serving as a napkin, reaching over. His fist and middle fingers come to rest on your sternum. Beneath his touch, your heart skips a beat. You wonder if he can feel it. “You can push here for about two centimeters before anything begins to crack, and to do CPR you have to do five centimeters.” Rex’s hand slides down to rest on your thigh, squeezing once.
He pats your thigh, pulling away his hand. “But yeah, I’ll give you mouth to mouth. Without breaking anything.”
“Hopefully the sexy kind,” you huff.
Rex chuckles. “Yeah, sweetheart. The sexy kind.”
You sink your teeth into a fresh slice of pizza. After a few bites, you decide to be done with it, setting it back on your plate. You take a few big sips of water from the plastic cup before you.
“We haven’t made out,” you lament, wiping your hands on a paper towel.
“Are you waiting?”
“… No.”
Rex smiles at the almost embarrassed lilt in your voice. “You wanna go makeout?”
You don’t meet his gaze.
Rex taps you under the chin, before downing the rest of your wine. “Finish your pizza.”
You do so without question.
Dishes get put away, leftover pizza bets wrapped in tinfoil and shoved in the fridge amongst your neat stacks of tupperware and takeout. The wine glass finds its way into the dishwasher, and Rex nudges you upstairs when you try to meander towards the couch.
Your eyes light up.
“You want to?”
“It’s late,” Rex says. It is, the clock nearing minute with every passing breath. “We can brush our teeth and then make out until we fall asleep.”
It feels almost childish, talking about it as if it was some big event. As if it wasn’t just another part of your summer. As if you and Rex haven't done more than just make out.
The moment your teeth are brushed and flossed and washed, you place a hand on Rex’s chest and begin pushing him out of the bathroom.
“Your heart’s beating really fast,” you comment casually.
“Is it?” Rex’s Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “Can you blame me?”
“Are you nervous?”
Rex’s chuckle is sheepish. “No.”
Your lashes bat down his body, down to the growing bulge in his boxers, then to the reddened tips of his ears. A grin pulls across your face.
“Ophelia…” Rex warns. Against what, you have no idea.
With a little nudge, you urge Rex to sit down on the bed. He goes willingly. You cup his face with one hand, thumb smoothing over the stubble on his jaw. Rex lowers his gaze to press a kiss against the palm of your hand.
His hands come to rest on you, one around your thigh and one at your hip. Gently, he pulls you towards him, until you have no choice but you kneel against the bed and deposit yourself in his lap.
Millimeters apart, your brain goes quiet with how close you are to Rex. It never fails to go quiet as butterfly wings when you’re close enough to see his pores.
“Hi,” you breathe, rubbing a hand along his shoulder blades.
“Hey,” he replies.
Humming, you trail your fingers over the high points of his face: his cheekbones, his eyebrows, the ridge of his upper lip. Press a kiss to his forehead. Then to his nose. Then his lips.
The two of you shimmy under the blankets, fan on high.
“I don’t want to have sex,” you whisper, breath ghosting over Rex’s features. Your lashes flutter up to meet his, a flirtation of sorts.
“We don’t have to,” Rex assures you.
“Not because I don’t like you,” you say, hand creeping for Rex’s under the covers. His fingers twine with yours.
“I know. And I still like you, even when we don’t have sex.” Rex’s reminder is gentle. He brings your hand up to press a kiss to the knuckles.
“Okay,” you say. Rex is easy to believe. He lingers on you, with a warm gaze and trailed off words.
Rex slowly moves closer to continue the kiss. He thinks you look beautiful like this: soft in bed, in his clothes, wanting. Needing him. Rex likes when he’s needed, he likes when you need him. Though he picks his words carefully, and chooses this time to simply press his lips back against yours.
You think you fall asleep with your lips against Rex’s, as one moment you’re kissing him and the next you’re blearily looking around a dark room. Your pillow rises and falls beneath you, and you rub your hand over Rex’s stomach, shifting to press your nose further into his neck. His hand that rests on your arm holds you close, and his thumb rubs against your bicep.
He hums. His head tilts to the side so his cheek rests against your forehead.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Rex murmurs.
You mumble a goodnight back. He’s warm and solid under you.
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🫂🫂🫂🫂 so so so many hugs for you trifle <33 today you’re going to be subjected to a silly little wholesome multilingual ghoul thought i had earlier :0
i like to think that the ghoul’s little communal kitchen area in the mornings is a mini hub of sleepy, peaceful morning activities. as each ghoul comes out from their room yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes, they’ll greet whoever is already down in the kitchen sleepily in one language or another. sometimes it’s in a language that one of the other pack members speaks but neither of them speak fluently and they’ll have a chuckle about it while making their own teas and coffees and toast and cereal. the pack’s collective favourite is when rain walks in, barely conscious and rasps an exhausted “coucou” (kind of like “hello” but for close friends/family) every morning because his brain hasn’t quite yet warmed up to english for the day <3
felix !! love !! you're too kind to me seriously thanks for putting up with my meltdown skhfdlf
all the ghouls know basic greetings for each language spoken between them, even if they know nothing else !! (i would insert an example but i don't speak any language well enough to know colloquial terms asklhfdl). FRENCH RAINY AAAHHHH my beloved <33 he has one of those mugs that says "don't talk to me until i've had my coffee" but cumulus has scribbled "in english" in sharpie after "don't talk to me" akjdhkj
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Hiii I have a question, at what age is a girl called "mademoiselle" and what age is she called "madame" ?
Hello,
It depends on who is talking to you and in what context.
Kids will go from saying 'hé' and tu to madame and vous when you stop looking like a fellow kid because that's what they call female teachers and unknown ladies. Teens either simply say 'hé excuse-moi' or call you meuf (verlan for femme but meaning girl) + grown strangers from 'excusez-moi mademoiselle' to 'excusez-moi madame' when you start looking grown yourself (people tend to stick with excusez-moi if they're not quite sure about your age or your gender). I noticed that change myself relatively recently (I'm 31 and stopped dressing like a high schooler during the pandemic).
Professionals will either be strict about it in order to not look like they're flirting or familiar and always say madame even when you're quite young, or pretend they think you're young and say mademoiselle to make you laugh and buy something (typically when you're feminine, or at least in a good mood) especially when you're clearly not that young. Delivery people who have to rely on your voice on the phone typically go for madame.
Catcallers like 'hé mademoiselle' and flirters like to ask 'madame ou mademoiselle ?' to assess your marital status.
Men also sometimes think it's playful and a compliment to your looks and instinctively talk to women similarly to how they would talk to children - that behaviour typically comes with a honey-filled voice and the word coucou (and emojis if they're texting).
Hope this helps! x
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Coucou Val ! Ça va ?? 💖
Bon, je n’ai pas vraiment de questions sur la France xD Néanmoins, j'adore l'initiative donc je me suis dit… pourquoi ne pas parler de Levihan avec une touche française ? ;)
Sur ce (si tu veux), je me demandais…
As-tu des chansons francophones qui te font penser à Levihan ? Tu peux nous les partager ?
Merci et gros bisous !
ENG translation:
Hi Val! How are you? 💖
Well, I shouldn't have questions about France xD But I love your idea so I thought… why not talk about Levihan with the french touch ? ;)
On that note, I was wondering…
Do you have any French songs that remind you of Levihan? Can you share them with us?
Thanks and big kisses!
Coucou Flo ! Je vais très bien, et toi ?
Merci de participer à cette journée (désolée de répondre aussi tardivement d'ailleurs 🫣)
Soyons honnête, j'écoute peu de musique française/francophone & il s'agit souvent de vieilleries! Du coup, je me suis creusé la tête pour trouver quelques chansons qui m'évoquent Levihan. Certaines sont déjà dans ma playlist Levihan qui dure 24h, j'y ajouterai probablement les autres.
J'espère que ça te plaira !
Bonne soirée & gros bisous 💕
Avertissement: pour la plupart, c'est pas mon style de musique habituel 😄
(Ia première est ma préférée: après la guerre, Livaï pense à Hansi 😭)
English translation:
Hi Flo! I'm doing very well, what about you? Thanks for your participation to this event (sorry for the late reply 🫣)
Let's be honest, I don't listen to much French/French-speaking music & it's often old stuff! So, I racked my brains out to find a few songs that remind me of Levihan. Some are already in my 24 hours long Levihan playlist, I will probably add the others to it.
I hope you'll like them!
Have a nice evening & big kisses 💕
Disclaimer: most songs are not in my usual style of music 😄
(the first one is my favourite: post war, Levi remembers Hange 😭)
#speak your language day#spyld#spyld 2024#livaï ackerman#hansi zoë#levihan#français#mutus 💕#flo 🇨🇵#littlerequiem#questions#liens vers spotify#musique
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