#i just LIKE the way the colours all go together

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

can I request ‘accidentally calling the other wife/husband’ for lando please 🥹

girlfriend? wife? ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Prompt: 63. accidentally calling the other wife/husband

𓆉 ln x reader 𐙚

𓆉 fluff 𐙚

masterlist ☾☼

1. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

just as the car reached the hotel, lando immediately held your hand. there were crowds of people on both sides, restricted by a barricade.

"you know what to do, right?" he asked you, softly.

"yes, lovie. we've done this hundreds of times before," you replied, unable to keep the smile hidden.

"i know, i know. i just worry. ever since my tiktok started showing me all those videos of celebrities getting attacked, i've been paranoid,"

"i'm aware. you forget, though, that you're the celebrity,"

lando tsked, "half the time, these people talk to me about you. the only reason they're fans of me is because of you,"

you laughed, and lando opened the door, stepping out. you followed. immediately, you walked inside the hotel with your head down, and watched lando from inside the safety of the hotel.

lando was taking his time and signing whatever was getting shoved in his face, smiling and interacting with a few of the fans as well. he took selfies, marvelled at the nail art that some of them had done, had brief discussions about tattoo designs for the fan. he loved it.

somewhere between the cheers of the fans, lando looked at the hotel entrance, searching for you. when he couldn't see you, he pouted, whispering to himself, "where's my wifey?"

the fans nearby heard him, and began cheering louder. lando's eyes widened as he realised his mistake.

well, fuck.

2. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

they had another mini break after singapore. the team were all gathered at the mtc, just reviewing the past few races, and discussing what they were planning for the upcoming races.

zak and andrea had given speeches, as were expected, and then oscar and lando were called on stage as well.

oscar gave his speech first, though, it was just him thanking the team, andrea, zak, and lando, and how he was grateful for all their help in hungary and baku especially.

then, it was lando's turn.

"i think, oscar summed it up pretty well, actually. nothing left for me to say."

people laughed.

"um, yeah, no, i'm really thankful for all the hardwork that every person in this room has done. i mean, like oscar said, it wouldn't have been possible with any of y'all. our wins are yours, because really, we just go out and drive. everything else is all you," he said, gesturing to the room full of people.

"and, while i am so happy to be able to work with all of you, i really need to give special mentions to andrea, zak, oscar, jon, my mechanics, my wife-"

the crowd burst out in teasing "ooohs" and lando slapped a hand over his eyes as he laughed.

"we're not married yet. i keep doing that. we're not married yet. besides, when we get married, i'd call all of you. most of you. some. no, all." lando broke off again, as the crowd laughed.

he turned towards his girlfriend, and said, "babe, i've made a commitment now. we gotta have a huge wedding,"

everyone laughed again, including you.

"i'm gonna go bankrupt with so many people at the wedding,"

people continued laughing.

"how about this, the reception would be from mclaren?" zak said, wrapping an arm around lando's shoulders as he laughed.

"oh, how nice of you, zak,"

"no! it's gonna be all papaya! i'm not getting married in papaya colours!" you shouted from the side, smiling.

"huh? it's gonna be all papaya? well, babe, we gotta make sacrifices here," lando said.

the laughs of everyone mixed together, and eventually, lando composed himself enough to continue his speech.

3. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

max was streaming on twitch. he wasn't doing anything in particular, really. he was just there, chatting with the chat, but mostly talking to lando who was sprawled on the bed behind him.

niran was on his way to max's apartment, and max and lando were just patiently waiting for their friend.

max began reading some of the comments in the chat, and responding, when one of them caught his eye.

"who is lando texting so angrily?" max read out loud. he turned and looked at his friend, who was still quickly typing on his phone.

"mate, who are you texting?" max asked, watching lando's concentrated face.

"the wifey," lando mumbled.

immediately, max turned to the chat and said, "he's not married! he's a dumbass who gets words mixed up! they're still only dating!"

"huh?" lando looked up, confused.

"you called her your wife." max explained.

lando groaned, "it keeps happening, i don't even know why,"

"right, cause that makes so much sense. what are you fighting with her about anyway?" he asked.

lando looked at his friend, confused, "we're not fighting,"

"then why do you look so mad?"

"do i? we were just planning our trip next month, and i was focused on that," lando revealed.

"that makes sense. do y'all fight though?"

lando's attention was back at his phone as he began typing again, "no. i do something stupid, she yells at me, i apologise,"

"what if she does something stupid?" max asked.

lando looked up from his phone, and the two best friends stare at each other for a few seconds before they burst out laughing. lando rolled on the bed as he laughed, and max fell off his chair.

the chat buzzed, trying to figure out what was so funny, but max and lando couldn't stop laughing.

"what if she does something stupid? oh, max, that was the funniest shit you've ever said," lando laughed.

"i knew it the moment i said it," max responded through his laughter.

"the only stupid thing she does is me," lando said, calming down a little.

"oh, for fuck's sake, lando!" max yelled at him, making him dissolve into laughter again.

+

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧˚.

lando was sweating, his cap on his head was hiding the mess that his curls had become. he ran a hand through his face to wipe off the excess sweat as he paid attention to the question.

"so, lando, first pole position of the season in the very first race. how do you feel about that?" the interviewer asked.

"um, i mean, i feel good about it, obviously. seems like a good start, honestly, and the car is working beautifully, so i have no complaints there. it all just comes down to me, really," he said, grabbing his water bottle.

"that's good to here. do you think you'll be able to win tomorrow?"

"that's- uh, that's hard to say. i mean, we've got competition from both ferraris, and then there's max and george, who are also excellent drivers, so its hard to say. our goal for today was a pole, and our goal for tomorrow is a podium, if not a win,"

"right. and, who do we have with you as a support for the first race of the season?" the interviewer took a lighter tone, and lando immediately smiled.

"i've got my family here, a few of my friends who could come down here, and i've got my girlfriend," he responded.

"that's beauti-"

"no, wait. my wife. my girlfriend. no, my wife, my wife. i've been so used to calling her my girlfriend in public and my wife in my head that i keep getting them mixed up," lando laughed, holding his left hand up where his wedding ring glimmered.

"oh yes! you got married at the start of this year!"

"yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. finally married her, and then got her to sign the license. burned it the next day so there's no way she can divorce me now. we're stuck together for life," lando said, making the interviewer laugh.

"it's a beautiful wedding band," the interviewer complimented.

lando put his hand up again, showing the ring to the camera, "right? she picked it. she has amazing taste in stuff like this, i can't even tell you. she's just perfect, man,"

"alright, well, it's nice to see you in such good spirits! crush it tomorrow, yeah?" the interviewer said.

"for her? anything," lando said, scoffing, as if the mere thought of him not doing anything for his wife was just plain stupid.

the interviewer laughed again, as lando walked away.

𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

honestly, one of my favourite things i've ever written. i hope i've done justice to the prompt, anon! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

[thelov3lybookworm]

Ice Cream (part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: the shadow needs to be put on timeout.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1821

Warnings: literally just fluff. azzie being a shy baby again🥹ALSO SHADOWS BEING MENACES BWAHAHAHAA💀 az is like an old asian parent tired of his kids bs 😭

A/n: ooof i love the shadows omg there such a pain in az's lil ass lmaoo. the one smartass shadow in the first part comes back to steal the spotlight and to make az's life miserable by its jabs lol🥹

ALSO THIS IS THE LAST PART IN THIS SERIES IM SO HAPPY OML I LOVED WRITING THIS 🥹😭

anyways, enjoyyy🥹🤭

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel had a routine. He always did.

Wake up, train, have something to eat, send reports to Rhys, analyse more reports, go onto missions if he had any, and train some more. It was always the same variation of the same few things.

But for a month now, his routine had a new addition. Having her on his mind every moment of every day.

His mind kept wandering to the colour of her eyes, the texture of her hair, the slight tilt to her lips when she found something he did funny. The way her quick wit and subtle hints of her boldness showed through her cold exterior as she slowly began to let her guard down around him, the way her eyes began to light up ever so lightly when she saw him as the two spent more and more time together.

She had become an important part of his routine, and he did not have a single problem with it, even as it put strain on him to finish up his work sooner so no one would suspect he was getting distracted from his duty.

Having her on his mind constantly, it was hard to focus on what his family was doing as they all sat in a booth at Rita’s, because he was too busy wondering what Y/n might be doing tonight. Maybe she was at her home, reading and sipping tea. Maybe she was out with her friends. Maybe she was by herself, wandering through the countless shops displaying items irresistible to anyone.

Maybe she was thinking of him.

The last thought had sudden heat travelling to Azriel’s cheeks, and he willed his shadows to cover him in case his family took notice of it as he lifted his almost empty cup of the alcoholic beverage Cassian had shoved into his hands to his lips.

Azriel looked up, glancing out of the window near the booth his family occupied, hoping that if Y/n really was out, she would walk by. It would certainly be a treat to his eyes and a soothing distraction from the overstimulation that was the inner circle.

"Az?"

He blinked, glancing over to Feyre, who stared at Az with furrowed brows. "Yes?"

She stared at him for a moment, a moment in which Azriel quickly looked over everyone present over the table. All their eyes were fixed on him, some confused, some curious. "We asked if you’re in for the game?"

Az straightened, setting his glass on the table and wrapped his arms around his chest. "Sure."

Cassian lifted a brow. "Do you even know what we’re playing?" Azriel’s cheeks flushed at the knowing look in his brother’s eyes, and he glanced down at his lap, clearing his throat and waiting for a shadow to fill him in on what was going on.

Master needs to learn to pay attention.

Azriel turned his head slightly to scowl at the particular shadow, and it bobbed away happily, as if unaware of his glare. But thankfully, another shadow floated up to his ear to whisper.

Truth or drink. They wish to probe and do your work.

The shadow that had initially hurried away from Azriel slithered back up his neck.

Be nosy, that is.

Azriel would have glared had he not had to turn back to his family. He nodded slightly, clearing his throat. "Truth or drink. I’m in."

Cassian leaned back, shooting a look that irked Azriel to Rhysand, who leaned forward on the table with a shit eating grin. "Let’s start with you then, brother. Who is keeping you so distracted and bothered all the time?"

Azriel clenched his jaw, releasing a breath through his nose, contemplating whether it was worth telling his family and bringing himself to his doom at their gossiping hands.

Before he could settle on his choice to drink, his shadows had already made the decision.

"Y…" Mor squinted, her brows furrowed, and Azriel’s blood ran cold when he heard the first few syllables of her name. "Y/n?"

Azriel stared at Mor, who smirked, her eyes fixed on Azriel’s forehead as she leaned back. Azriel looked around at all his friends, wondering what the hell was going on and how they knew Y/n’s name. And then a shadow moved closer to his ear.

Y/n.

Y/n Y/n Y/n.

Azriel reeled in his frustration at the less than helpful chanting, but then the same shadow hit his chin, prompting him to lift it, and his eyes landed on her.

She wore a simple black dress, the thing covering everything and leaving everything up to imagination with the high neck and long sleeves and skirts. Her hair was open, and she looked just as beautiful as she always did.

And she was looking right at him, her lips spread in a smile as she stood right behind Cassian, seemingly having stood up from the booth next to them.

In the back of his mind, Azriel knew his family was looking at him in concern when he said nothing, but he couldn’t care less as he stared at that smile, the one he had seen for the first time ever.

She is beautiful.

She never smiled more than the slight tilts to her lips, and maybe it was for the good, because if he had seen that smile earlier, he might already be married right now. She was so mesmerising, it was a miracle Azriel hadn’t asked her to be his on the first ever outing to the ice cream shop the two had been to. But if he had seen her offer him that smile, he would have gone too far in love, he knew.

Master needs to stop drooling, he looks like a baby.

And ugly.

Azriel almost turned to scowl, but he did not want to miss even a moment of the smile on her face. But that also led him to the question. Why was she smiling?

She giggled lightly, and he only knew because he saw her throat muscles move as she lifted a finger to her forehead, then pointed at him.

And then Azriel realised.

He quickly lifted his hand to his head, whipping away the shadow that would not stop acting like a smartass teenager. After he was sure the shadow was gone and no longer using his forehead as some sort of writing surface to announce to the world his feelings for a certain bookstore owner, he swallowed and stood, trying to excuse himself.

But Cassian turned, looking right at Y/n. "Are you Y/n?"

The eyes Azriel always found himself lost in lifted to meet his own hazel ones, her cheeks turning a deeper shade as she tried to stop smiling. Azriel could see the blush on her face, even in the dim lighting, and he thanked the mother for his eyesight.

Y/n not having her guard up at all times was not a sight everyone was blessed to witness.

She nodded lightly, glancing around at the rest of Azriel’s friends before giving him a small wave. She turned and walked out after her friends, who laughed among themselves. She did shoot him a glance before she walked out, but then she was gone.

Azriel turned, trying to see if there was any way he could escape his confines, having been pushed to sit between the window and Feyre. And when he didn’t, he climbed onto the seat and stepped behind her, then Rhysand, whispering apologies as he hopped onto the ground and broke into a sprint, hoping to catch up to Y/n.

His family tried to call after him, but Azriel was a male on a mission, and a very skilled one at that.

He stepped out into the cold night air, his eyes landing on Y/n waving at her friends as they went the opposite direction. He swallowed, hoping she would not mind his presence and walked towards her. She probably felt his proximity, as when she turned, she only smiled at him and gestured for him to walk with her.

A shadow floated close to Azriel to inform him of the way his family was watching him like hawks from the window they had sat next to, and when Azriel turned to look, sure enough, Cassian and feyre scrambled away, while Rhysand, Mor and Nesta looked like they were trying too hard to act nonchalant.

"They really are nosy." Y/n’s soft voice reached Azriel, and he turned to offer her an exasperated look.

"And I deal with it everyday."

She laughed, gently slipping her hand to hold his arm. Instantly, his pulse was galloping.

Master is no better than a schoolboy.

Azriel shot a glare to the darned shadow, wondering if there was a chance he could put it in timeout.

"So… I keep you distracted, huh?" Y/n spoke after a moment, making Azriel’s ears go warm.

"I…"

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder as the two walked the rest of the way in silence. Azriel only heard her laugh ring in his ears, wishing and praying that he would be blessed enough by the mother to hear the beautiful sound for the rest of his life.

Only once the two were at her apartment doors did she pull away and step forward, towards the entrance before turning to him, around an arms length of distance between the two.

Too much.

"So?"

Azriel folded his hands at his back, smiling slightly. "So?"

She leaned back against the wall, humming. "When am I meeting the family then?"

His breath hitched. "You… want to?"

She lifted a brow. "You don’t?"

Azriel shook his head, looking down at his boots. "I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I know they can be a lot sometimes."

He heard her move closer to him, lifting his eyes to meet her gaze once both her hands had reached out to hold one of his. "I think I am ready, Az."

Az. She called me Az.

He leaned his head closer to her. "What do I get if I take you to meet them?"

She blinked at him. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe you get to tell everyone you are courting me? And you can stop having to sneak around to meet me?"

He grinned, hearing those words spoken into the space between them as he touched his forehead to hers. "Hmm… not enough. I want more."

She snorted. "And what is that?"

"Maybe you take me out to the ice cream shop again." He reached up to touch her cheek, his eyes fixated on the way her skin seemed to contrast with his.

"And this time, we will get a huge bucket of mint chocolate, and share it. Like a real couple."

She smiled again, rolling onto her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek.

"Mint chocolate it is."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

@olives-main @hijabi-desi-bookworm @dnfhascorruptedme

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings @dnfhascorruptedme @fuckingsimp4azriel

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139 @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @okaytrashpanda

@celestialgilb @donnadiddadog

[dirt-str1der]

WHY DID YOU FEEL THE NEED TO TELL ME ABOUT YOUR AROACE SENKU HEADCANON ON MY GAY SENKU AND TRANS REI POST

Just finished Dr Stone Reboot

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like—being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”

[fluffyydumplings]

IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD

If the world was ending right now

I’d hug you until I crush your bones

Because if my life flashes before my eyes

I would have liked to know that I still managed to engrave flowers of my love onto the dying flesh of your soul

It’s selfish

But once I’m gone

I’m nothing better than the fish swimming endlessly in a swirl of muddy puddles with nowhere to go

Aimlessly looking for a way to live even when life is no more

I’m nothing but the desires of my flesh and the sins that my soul has left my body with

And what better way to live even when I’m dead

But with the traces of my heart on your bones

To mark the reminder of our love

Or mine?

You could crush my bones too…

The world is ending darling..

Nothing matters anymore…

That’s kind of morbid

I’m hearing it now

But isn’t the world ending.. just the same damn thing

If the world was ending

I’d want to talk to you once last time

I wouldn’t talk about how much love I have for you

Or how all the stars in the skies are placed directly in the crevices of your heart

I would talk to you about how to make cupcakes

And how you still haven’t returned that food container I lent you last December

I would talk to you about the most mundane things that a being can talk about

Because if you think about it flowers are just particles that we happen to see

Yet they manage to hold stories of a million words

Stepped on by a man who was in a hurry on his way to work

Ignored

Plucked by a lady who hasn’t been visited by her children for years

Adored

Torn apart by the hands of a child who has just failed his test

Wasted

Think of it my darling

If the world were to end right now

What good is me telling you I love you

When my love lies in knowing how you’ve missed the bus today

When my love lies in knowing how the food at work was too salty for you today

My love for you is like a bookmark that sits between the pages of a book

Sometimes trapped between two boring pages

Sometimes trapped between the ending of a chapter

Sometimes trapped in the climax of a story

Sometimes wedged between simple words ‘like’ the or ‘nice’

Sometimes wedged between words like ‘love’ and ‘joy.’

You can’t say the moments that we have spent wasting our lives together in simply talking about the shape of the clouds

Is any less than the moments that we have celebrated

Whether it be our love or our triumphs

Because the little moments of joy that we look over are paper cranes in a glass jar

A single moment of joy is just a single crane that stands small in the horizon

But when pilled up

A colourful mess is everything

Our colourful mess is everything

A beautiful sky is made up of thousands of colours

Even a murky brown or simple beige plays a part in curating magnificence

So.. if the world was ending right now

Let’s not focus on the glass jar

Let us fold a single crane

And make it a pretty one

Because

If the world was ending right now

I would wish for nothing but a few more minutes for me to complain about doing laundry with you

I would wish for nothing but to be able to count all the freckles on your face

I would wish for nothing but to be able to steal the blanket from you as you push me off the bed

Because darling.. what if tomorrow we’re just a memory that no one remembers anymore

Because darling love is nothing special

Isn’t that love?

Familiar

Precious

Worth thinking about the end of the world for?

[frostbitten-writer]

It’s not a Reunion if you never left

Pairing: Ekko x gn!reader ( lovers, to enemies to lovers)

Tags + Warnings: No specific description of R; R has a gun; R and Ekko were dating in childhood (teenagers); ANGST/COMFORT -> SUGGESTIVE AT THE END

A/n: So what I realised is that you guys don’t like angst as much as I do, so I’ll give you the ‘fluff’ you deserve *wink wink* PLUS WHATS IMPORTANT FOR THE PLOT, EKKO AND R ARE A BIT OLDER IN THE STORY (22-23 YEARS OLD). CHILDHOOD MEMORIES -> (14-15 YEARS OLD)

Ekko knew too much about death and sacrifices, knew too much of all of the things Zaunites had to go through, he knew it because he, as well, lived it all through.

But when he saw you? You, the person he adored so much as a teenager. You, his childhood lover, the person he thought would be with him forever, you, that somehow disappeared or died… he didn’t know if his eyes were playing tricks. 

It was like seeing a ghost, seeing a person so familiar and yet seeing a complete stranger. You were still the same, but not quite how he remembered. Your face got a lot slimmer, your hair changed, and the clothes that were obviously made by you were hanging loosely on your form.

But your eyes.. the windows to life itself seemed so dim, the colour seemed to be so dark, your expression so harsh and rough, just like you now in general.

Eight years really did something to you, and even if he didn’t know what happened, he still felt the same tug to you, the feeling only you could radiate. The aura of acceptance and understanding was so foreign in Zaun, so whenever Ekko had the chance, he would bask in your presence, knowing that whatever that would happen, you could make it right. And then.. it all ended when you disappeared, or left.. He was so sure that you died, and his childish grief was unbearable. Late nights were spent crying in his bed, vows were whispered, quiet sobs of reassurance that everything will be good, that he will fight for you.

So when he saw you, safe and sound, he felt a bit fooled. What do you mean that eight years were spent grieving for a person that just.. simply left? His fingers twitched softly, the muscle memory absentmindedly ready to go for a tight hug. But he couldn’t, not when he didn’t even know why you were here.

“Look who came back from the dead.” He said mockingly, a sneer on his face as he watched your form in the distance.

“Look who’s talking with the dead,” You replied, nails tapping the gun that was fastened to your belt, a cool undertone to your voice. 

“You changed, Ekko..” You mused as you looked him up and down, eyes lingering and quickly moving from place to place. “What’s with the dirt on your face?” The mocking confusion was evident, and that made his jaw clench.

“Is that the only thing you have to say?! After all those years? Dirt on my face? Dirt is already a part of me in this rat hole! You’d know that if you hadn’t been gone, Toots!”

You watched his eyes widen in embarrassment, the nickname he’d give you while you were still children slipping effortlessly from his tongue.

“Ah.. the good old nickname, huh? Brings back old good memories.” You muttered and Ekko watched you take some steps closer to him, and he felt his heart beat harder with every step you took.

“The times we were together, Ekko..” You whispered as you stood right in front of him, your hand on your hip next to the gun.

“We were children, that would’ve changed…” He muttered in response. Lies, he didn’t believe that, his inner child was screaming otherwise, saying that if he tried a bit harder you’d stay.

“Yes, but those were the good times.. when we were children. Kind and innocent, not carrying the heavy blood on our hands.” Ekko watched you talk, words coming gracefully out of your mouth, the same way you’d tell him the solution.. to everything. To life itself.

“The times when we’d be inseparable, hip to hip. The time when we felt something-…” You continued to tell the stuff that came to mind, eyes filled with confusion as you stared down at the ground, your hand moving upwards to his chest, the barrel suddenly touching his heart. “- right here..”

The tip of the gun was cold against his chest, the cool feeling seeping through his shirt.

“We were stupid, nothing is eternal. We grew.” He looked at you as his jaw ticked, the gun to his heart not intimidating him at all.

“-And yet you still act like a child.” He suddenly added. “Leaving without a word and now pointing a gun that you don’t even know how to handle.”

You scoffed, the emotional side suddenly changed to irritation.

“Excuse you, I know how to handle a gun just right!” You exclaimed, eyes furrowing and eyes widening.

“Oh yeah? A person with a gun doesn’t hesitate to just shoot.”

“I could shoot just right, nerd.” You sneered, the pistol skimming up to his mandible.

“Don’t call me that,” He hissed, breath hitching at the feeling of the cold metal against his jaw. He’d be lying if the sensation wasn’t making him nervous, but not the usual nervous but another. The one that kinda makes you weak in the knees.

“Why not? You are a nerd, always have been.” You shrugged, the distance between your bodies almost invisible.

“Why don’t you shoot, huh? Show how great you are. I’m not scared of your lil’ gun” He mocked and took a small step forward, as if challenging you by standing even closer to the bullet.

“You should be.” 

He should be afraid, afraid to lose his life, but in the end he was more afraid to lose his mind with you. Why was he playing this game? Maybe or maybe not because he liked it…

“If I didn’t know better I’d say that you like pointing it at me..” He said with a strained voice, the last bit of his clear mind going to waste.

“Hm, maybe. But I’d say that I like pulling the trigger more..” You breathed out, not backing down.

You both knew what kind of a game you were playing, and maybe that was the point. The tension was palpable, electric.. nothing could quite describe it. The air was cold where you were standing, but none of you two could feel it due to your own reasons.

 

“I could just-“  Your finger slowly moved to cock the gun, and yet he quickly snatched it and slammed his lips against yours, doing you both the favour of doing the first step. The kiss was filled with emotions, anger, hatred and yet relief that it was you.

It was a lot more different than the kisses you’d share in the past, it was quick, sloppy, but who cared? You surely didn’t, since you wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled him flush against you. The pistol fell down with a clack but none of you paid attention, you had other stuff to do.

Ekko was still angry and frustrated, knowing that his grief was for nothing, but on the other hand it all was for nothing, you were there, in his arms, grip and lips to lips-. 

You never fully left when you never left his mind.

Support banner: @/cafekitsune

[lured-into-wonderland]

Both. Truth to be told, Nunnally didn’t expect he’d care so much about the mug to be used 'here and now'. But it still felt…nice. So, she chatted. What she liked. What she enjoyed. What she hoped to get. Not that Nunnally had too many preferences. She, indeed, didn't like the edges her mug being too thick (or too thin), but otherwise all was a fair game. Though – and again – she found herself immensely enjoying the (mundane) conversation and (mundane) activities of these moments. Well, she did not find them mundane, although she assumed that many would. Not that it mattered.

Still humming that melody (and still only half aware of doing so), Nunnally looked at the red mug presented to her. Her lips formed a cheerful smile, and she nodded: --

“It’s perfect, Rav. I really like the colour.” – the redness of it was beautiful. The shade she really liked. And would wear. Sometimes. Though her usual style was different. More toned down. Less cheerful? – “I’ve liked wearing red…” – she continued babbling – “…but they say red is not the best colour for the cold blondes like myself…not that I really care, but nowadays I am less…well, less courageous to wear colours... than I used to be…” – she laughed as she was finding her way around the kitchen – “…maybe I am just too old for some things…” – she laughed again – “Oh, don’t oppose me, Rav! I know I am not old at all, but just sometimes I feel like… I guess you’re not really familiar with the social pressures…the kind I am submitted to…it's to tiring...” – even if it might have looked like a difficult (or even sad) topic, it was not one for Nunnally. Social pressure was something she was pretty used to, and nothing too worried about.

Though probably the pressure Ravein was submitted to was more of a kind to be worried about.

Humming, talking, finding her way around, laughing…all that made her almost missed Ravein’s next question.

“Yes…that’s what I hope for…” – she said, somewhat, disturbed with that question of his. Why was he surprised? Oh! This time it took Nunnally only a few moments to realize why he wasn’t willing to go. Or rather why it might be difficult to do so.

“But no worries. We don’t actually have to go out. We could simply shop on-line. Not as fun as regular shopping…” – no! Nunnally did not sound discouraged. She was still in that babbly mood and given Ravein was an observant man, he could easily tell that – “…but good enough. We might even design something together and have it printed on the mug… I did something similar…long time ago, but it might still be an option.”

“…I used to create things more often that I do now…” – she stopped for a moment wondering why she had said that, and then again she started to move around the kitchen looking at the spices she had prepared to use (now neatly seated on the counter together with three cups) . It seemed she had everything. She did create some mess (probably more mess than this kitchen had not seen for some time), but she was still happy. It was not as bad as it might have been.

“Don’t worry.” – Nunnally reassured Ravein – “I have everything under control… The kitchen will be left as clean as it was when…” – she laughed – “…when you let me in.”

And then she touched his hair (how forgetful of her!), but luckily Ravein didn't take it too bad (could that be called a p r o g r e s s?), and then she was back to humming, when Roberto returned. She smiled to the older man: --

“Absolutely not.” – she replied just for the sake of saying something; it was clear Roberto didn't need her permission to do anything, and she was aware serving the customers was a priority. And yes, although it might have been better for her to actually work in silence, she couldn't force herself to do it – “If anyone I should be the one not to look. I am sure you know more secret recipes than I do… I don’t think I've invented many innovative recipes…”

“…though I did experiment in the past…with the taste of tea and coffee...”

“The water is freshly boiled…” – she added busy with her drinks. They would soon be ready. But she wanted to delay it a bit so that Roberto can attend to the customers and then have his drink with the both of them.

Ravein would concur with Nunnally’s thoughts that the kitchen here was very warm and had an inviting atmosphere. Though, there was an element of being intimidating to someone who didn’t know their way around making coffee or tea, but aside from that, it was clear that the kitchen was designed and decorated with comfort and homeliness in mind. It really was nice here, and it spoke volumes to how quickly he acclimated and found this place to be ‘home’.

Ravein pauses to think about her question before he flips through a few pages in his notebook.

[Both]

It was good to know her preferences so he could try finding a mug that would be suitable for now and it would serve as a guideline to help find a personal mug for her use later. He would consult with Roberto on the matter and they could both keep their eye out for a mug that she may like.

Thin edges, shades of blues, oranges, or reds. Birds or intense colors… they didn’t have any with birds on them. Ravein logged the information in his mind for future reference and he cross-referenced with some of the mugs they currently had. He rummaged through one of the cupboards, remembering there was a plain red mug in the back. It didn’t have thin edges, but they weren’t too thick either. It was probably the best fit for now. He presents her the mug and waits for her approval or rejection.

Her comment about getting it together with him stuck out in his mind. Perhaps she wanted the opportunity to go shopping for a mug together? That way they could ensure that the mug she got was something of her tastes- which was the most efficient way of going about it, even if it did require some planning ahead of time around their schedules.

[Go together?]

It couldn’t be too dangerous to go looking for some mugs together. Who would ever expect that a guy on the run (and in disguise) would be shopping around for cute mugs? No one would suspect such bold behavior- so it was like reverse-psychology, almost. Besides, unless they wished to get in trouble with the local law enforcement, it wouldn’t do anyone any good to cause a scene in such an enclosed public space.

Nunnally did remember that he felt unnerved by the approach of others, especially given his history and his circumstances. Though late, she did belatedly recall this fact and apologize. A small thing, but he appreciated it all the same. He nods his head to show that he accepted her apology. He wasn’t totally put off by it, so it was fine. It would just take some time for him to truly accept her touch without first inwardly panicking first.

Something in his gut told him that it would happen eventually, in time. Even with him and Roberto, there was a sense of distance because the older man was being considerate towards Ravein. It didn’t mean that he always kept a strict distance, however. It was important for Ravein to slowly become acclimated to the touch of others if he wanted to become a part of normal society. Exposure therapy with someone he trusted was important- even if it made Ravein uncomfortable for a while.

The bunny man watched as Nunnally was preparing the drinks, curious to see what she had planned for them. His ears were also paying attention to what was going on behind him. He could hear that Roberto was handling customers, taking a few orders. Once he finished taking all the orders, he’d come into the back to start making the beverages.

In a matter of minutes, the older man came back into the kitchen, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you, Miss Nunnally. I have a few drinks to prepare for customers.” He gives Ravein a look and motions for the younger to stay seated. He could handle this small order of drinks himself. “I promise I won’t sneak a peak at what you’re making.” He cracks a small joke towards Nunnally, who was still preparing the drinks.

[brawngp2009]

"a hundred watchful eyes"

seb/nico, gen, 750 words. early 2010's, based on a prompt "53: Wings/supernatural body features", written for @25points.

In the public eye looks were everything, and if you had wings they were everything too. A lot of people said that Nico was really lucky; he's got both: angelic looks and gorgeous snow white wings, like a swan, like his father. But whenever he saw Sebastian a pang of envy pierced right through his chest.

Sebastian’s wings didn’t compare Nico’s – smaller and absolutely not as gorgeous. His wings were of golden ochre colour with white specks and black dots, like eyes. Always in control and also sort of angelic, but in a biblical sense, with righteous wrath. And where Sebastian’s wings lacked beauty; they made up for in skill, they were precise and moved silently.

Sebastian’s father didn’t have wings, no one from his family did, but everybody knew he was going to be one of the greatest because his wings were so similar to Michael’s. This was another source of Nico’s woes alongside being a son of champion, amongst other things. Sebastian was so similar to Michael in ways Nico could never be.

Nico finished third that day, Malaysia 2010, which felt amazing. Standing on the podium always felt so. And it was the first time he did it with Sebastian. Nico’s racing was always technical and consistent and he felt like he could do better than Michael even if he still scared him off track. But whilst he was about to surpass the idol of the olden days, he could sense that Sebastian was on the rise and Nico couldn’t keep up.

“May I touch your wings?” he asked quietly, when they found themselves alone in the corridors set behind the podium walls. It was not an ordinary thing to ask a fellow driver, but if Sebastian declined, Nico thought, he would just apologize and move on with his life the best he can.

“Sure!” the smile on Sebastian’s face could illuminate a night race. “But only if I can touch yours,” he chuckled, unzipping his overalls.

Managing the wings as a racing driver was a whole another ordeal. They looked frail, much like the racing cars themselves, but as well as the cars they were actually very sturdy and most importantly very powerful. Not all drivers even had wings, but most of the champions did, and it was an unspoken rule of sorts that the champions have wings. Simple as that. Out of champions who raced alongside Nico only Lewis didn’t have them.

Every driver who had wings coped in different ways, and as Sebastian took the top half of his overalls off, Nico could see the slits cut neatly in his nomex undershirt and his little ochre wings threaded through them and folded neatly over his back. There were no restraints other than overalls.

“You don’t tie them to your body?” Nico asked, watching Sebastian roll his shoulders as his wings twitched and unfolded in front of him. A hundred watchful eyes staring right into Nico’s soul.

“No, why would I?” Sebastian laughed, and the golden feathers shuffled as if his wings were laughing too. “You can touch them, they are nothing special,” the wings calmed down as Sebastian waited for the touch.

The feathers were firm, but soft and seemed almost warm to the touch. They were tucked in very neat rows and Nico could tell that Seb takes very good care of them. He hummed as Nico stroked the feathers slowly and carefully. Sebastian didn’t tie them and they didn’t bother him. How strange, Nico thought. His own wings were often causing more trouble than he’d like to, shifting and wrestling their way out, and that’s why he had to tie them to his body sometimes with extremely soft custom made belts.

“Thank you,” Nico said quietly, taking his hand away, even though his fingers still longed for the touch. They are very beautiful,” he added, rubbing his palms together to get rid of the soft sensation, to forget how the touch of Sebastian’s wings feels.

“No problem,” Sebastian smiled at him, but kind of shy this time, not a blinding beaming smile, but still illuminated and glowing. “They are not a match to yours though,” he chuckled, watching as Nico undid the zipper of his overalls.

“Yeah, they are not,” Nico answered as he went through the ordeal of taking the top half of the overalls and nomex undershirt off and proceeded with undoing the belts that kept his wings close to his body. And maybe it was never about the wings.

[chaaistained]

bread 🍞 for own girl group dr for the ask game !!

hi anon !! thank you for the ask my gorgeous <333

i also appreciate the specificity aka asking for a particular dr 🫡 it really helps me fr xx

🍞 : BREAD . . . create a mood board of some of your closest friendships in your desired reality. you could include their face claim, favorite color, clothing style, what your friendship with them all looks like, etc.

clarity glimmer under the spotlight, they dazzle from the fluorescence of their curated stages, capturing the crowd with a particular intensity and coordination that seems effortless and yet unable to be replicated . anyone who takes at most a few minutes to watch these girls grace the stage, they would be unable to deny how in tune the four of them are with each other — their eyes shine with anticipation and affection when they meet the gaze of another member, uncontrollable smiles blooming on their lips with little restraint, hands reaching out , ready for an impromptu high five, a subtle pinky link or even the fan favourite handshake that they created — there is this undeniable connection they share, their chemistry spirals around them, a cloak of comfort , a crown of confidence , radiating from their mere presence when they stand together, as one.

this group consists of mariah (referenced top left), aining (referenced top mid), vicki (referenced top right), and mina (aka me - referenced as the girl on the left of the top three images) .. [disclaimer : none of those images are fc’s !! well . the girl on the left in image one looks a lil like me but wtv not the point . i’ll post proper fc’s in the member intro . eventually . but just ignore the visuals for now, focus on the vibes pls !!]

mariah and i didn’t get along at the start . we were only 12 (me) and 14 (her) but we were immediately pitted against each other, constantly asked to compete, always assigned to opposing teams, evaluated on the same day every. time. ..it wasn’t a very healthy environment to be fostering a friendship (especially given how we’re both vocalists and always felt like we were being compared) so we decided to remain civil but separate. that is, until our teachers realised we could be paired up together. tumultuous feelings were pushed aside and we became a powerhouse of vocals, a two woman melody, a human orchestra . competition turned to companionship and we quickly began to rely on each other — she’s my realist who holds a mirror to my faults and bandages the wound after i realise it’s there — she gave me the greatest person to fall back on when i’m not at my best , herself

aining is like that one person who you cannot and will not remember living life without, she feels fated. we were strangers together, at the same audition . she was taking it seriously, i was there for fun. a few weeks later i recognise her across the hallway at the same high school, the same girl, she’s always been right there . in that fashion we repeatedly floundered through a flurry of months where we noticed each other at school before being seperate again, only to finally reunite at the same company, under the same training program, assigned to the same dorm.. maybe it’s because we’re from the same country, state, city, town . maybe it’s because we build each other up where the other falls short , but for reasons i can’t exactly put into words, aining became my best friend. she feels familiar in every essence of its meaning, and i’m forever thanking the stars that we debuted in the same group

vicki feels like a lightning strike, she was the eruption of colours encircling me when my life fell into grey — i was fading from the constant monotony of evaluations, practice, training, and was slowly sinking from the realisation that i wasn’t absolutely perfect at my skills . i still had a ways to go before i could debut . not a fun feeling to acknowledge..i had this chill creep inside me , this fear of leaving it all behind, and then came vicki, scampering past like a little fox on its daily adventure, a glint in her smile and an idea already forming in her mind . she brought me back from that abyss, dragging me past anxiety avenue and depression district. you see, vicki has this ability to reach inside and pull out your innermost stress and then dissolve it before your very eyes, she pushes past your pressure and fatigue and asks you to watch as they ripple away. she motivated me to write , to produce , to create . she held me together when i could not hold myself, she saved me from a future where i would not have been me, and she did it all with a smirk and a cheek poke

.

.

.

[ ask game link ]

2025 © chaaistained

[dragon-creates]

Funnybunny Week 2025

Prompt: Fancy Outfits

AU: Carnival of Wonders AU by @thenightgazers @carnivalofwonderstadcau

AO3

Jax fixed his tie, peering over his shoulder to watch Pomni as she applied her blush at her dresser. Caine had been pondering on how to gain more ratings for the show, and had been offered the suggestion of a ballroom dance from Gangle. Jax wouldn’t lie, it seemed like a good idea. Just a nice night to slow dance with his wife until sleep caught up to them or when the sun rose over them.

Once his tie was done, he buttoned up his waistcoat and went over to his wife. He bent down and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, “You’re so beautiful.”

She giggled, “I’m not done getting ready yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered against her skin. “You’re always beautiful no matter how you look.”

“Even after I ugly cry over burning food by accident?” she snickered lightheartedly. 

Jax chortled, pressing a kiss to her hair, “Especially then.”

Pomni rolled her eyes fondly, finishing her lipstick before standing, “I have to change.”

“I can’t wait to see what you wear,” Jax said. “You look drop dead gorgeous in everything you wear.”

“Well aren’t you a flatterer,” she smiled, taking the hanger and bag the dress was in. “Turn around please.”

Jax didn’t hesitate, facing the other way. Pomni could still be nervous with how she looked, it was why he always took the chance to tell her how beautiful she is whenever he would - after all it was the truth, she was always stunning. 

“Um, Jax?”

Jax’s ears perked up when hearing her voice, “Am I okay to look?”

“Yeah, um. Could you help me zip this?” she asked timidly. “The zipper is a bit jammed.”

Jax turned around, his voice stuck in his throat when he saw her. The sleeveless dress was a deep red, with a sweetheart neckline and a high-low skirt covered in rose petals. Jax was nothing short of breathless, “You’re stunning.”

Pomni’s face turned the same colour as her dress, “Darling, please, the zipper?”

Jax blinked some of his awe away, “R-right.” He went behind her, taking the zipper from her fingers. He slowly eased the zip up, letting his fingers trail over her soft skin, hearing her gulp from his delicate touch. He couldn’t help but tease her a little bit. The zip finally reached the top of her dress, “There.” He pressed a kiss to her bare upper back, “All done.”

Pomni squeaked, interlacing their fingers together, “You’re such a tool sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Jax kissed up the way to her neck. “I am.” He continued to press kisses to her cheek, before twirling her around and kissed her soundly on the lips.

Pomni breathed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled away for air, pressing kisses all over his face, leaving red lipstick marks all over his purple fur. She giggled when she stopped, “Oops.”

Jax knew how he must have looked at the moment, joining in on her laughter, “I think we’re going to be a bit late to the ball.”

“Oh well,” Pomni shrugged. “Maybe we can sneak in a few more kisses before heading down.”

The rabbit smirked, cupping his wife’s cheeks, “I’m sure that can be arranged.” His lips pressed against hers once again.

.

.

.

Caine tapped his foot against the marble floor of the ballroom, checking his watch, “Where on earth could those two lovebirds be?!”

Ragatha chuckled, “Those two are head over heels with each other. Honestly I’m not surprised that they’re a little bit late.”

The ringmaster was about to open his mouth to speak when the sound of the door closing behind him caught his attention. Turning, he saw the missing rabbit and jester finally arrive, “What took you two so long?!”

“Oh you know,” Pomni shared a knowing look with her husband. “Just testing some lipstick.”

“And admiring our outfits,” Jax continued, patting his pocket where a lipstick covered handkerchief was hidden. And would probably be used again later tonight if a storage closet was found.

[certifiedbi]

This specific colour palette on leathers makes me behave in a way I should be ashamed of

[marciaillust]

I added some colours to her :)

[ajwalker7900]

I thought of this after watching the new episode and had to draw it immediately

omg a textless version yayyyyyy!!! now to rewatch film red

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

Finally back, with a lil more of Chill's Artist Admiration Sketchbook; making fanart for blogs I like :D

@kingspacebar

Accessoires and colours my beloved <3 <3 <3

[sysig]

Family ♥ (Patreon)

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen?