#Kylie Dear

[3amclothesmonster]

I present to you,

Kylie Dear, Eddie's younger sister

@dottyorange I know you like sibling oc's so-

I need to see some more Dear family oc's fr fr

#Kylie Dear #Welcome home oc #Dear Family #Eddie Dear family

[crazycaoscornpop]

oc lore BECUASE I'm in the mood

The one faced twins(upppy, downer, lefty, righter, mom, mama): Frist shown in the epesode "new neighbor!" the epasode added meny new charaicters including the Wright family, the sisters were shown as bright young women who moved to home with their son while their husband (Who is only named once and seen a few times) was away at war.it was shown that downer was the calm and reasonable one who calmed upppy when she made a mistake, while upppy was the one who pushed them to try new things. they were seen as very patriotic and would have a segments about history. they stopped having a part in the show after their son "Robbie wright" started growing up. they are only shown a total of 23 times after that. Mr.Wright/jack wright: he is seen in a few epesodes as "mommys and daddy's! home for Christmas. the baseball game. baby books." and the one epesode he actually shows up in "the final goodbye" where he comes home and wright family moves back to their first home. the charciter himself was said to be a kind man who wanted nothing more than to protect his family and His people.

Robbie Wright: was first seen as a baby, acting as if a puppy would (walking on all fours, barking, biting, ect). he was in all the summer episodes always if not everytime seen with "Kylie dear" @3amclothesmonster he had a segment about hunting and fishing and sometimes showing kids at home pictures of his home and older siblings. it might have been hinted at that Him and Kylie would have dated but the show then added him a proper girlfriend of his race named " Vast space" she has yet to be discuverd. he aprentaly liked winning so much that it got him into trouble, he was obsessed with being the fastest. he also aprently liked chasing the neighbor hood mail man "Eddie dear" at the same time everyday . over all he was meant to be a sterotypical little boy that in witch little boys could see themselves in.

#im not funny #welcome home #the safe house is going under #robbie wrighter #Robbie wright #vast space #Kylie dear #Eddie dear #the one faced twins #please

[theveniceangel]

Ok so a long while ago, I made a version of my main OC for Poppy Playtime, and at some point I decided to do some voice lines for her.

Tell me your thoughts please. 😅

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime au #poppy playtime oc #poppy playtime player #poppy playtime chapter three #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime deep sleep #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime fandom #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #kyliesocs #kylie dear #voice acting #voice lines

[sejanuspiinth]

by clicking on the source link you will find a free download link and a page with 299 gifs, all made from scratch by myself, of kylie bunbury on tut. kylie is afro - guyanese and white and is currently 33 years old, though she was around 25 - 26 years old at the time of filming. i ask you to please not repost or edit ( this includes gif icons ) without my permission, and, if using these, give this post a like or a reblog. thank you !

for @tasksweekly + @periodfcnetwork​ + @diverseperiodfcs​ : #003 / #008 / #021 / #095

#gif pack #period fc #kylie bunbury #kylie bunbury gif pack #kylie bunbury gif hunt #periodfcnetwork #underused fc #black fc #userdevon #gifsociety #fcxdirectory #tasksweekly #dear indies #ungiffed #usernare #diverseperiodfcs #i hope its ok to tag you!!

[wintercorrybriea]

Meagan Good, Lamyia good and Kylie Freedman at J Boog of B2K's Surprise 18th Birthday Party photographed by Stephanie Allespach (August 2003)

via flyandfamousblackgirls

#meagan good #lamiya good #kylie freedman #b #pinnacle of creation my dear #style

[riddles-n-games]

Dear Reader feels like a letter of warnings written by Tobias Hawthorne, in some ways meant for Avery and in others, for his grandsons. It’s one of the songs I feel is best to match the overall theme of the series.

#tobias hawthorne #tobias tattersall hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #nash westbrook hawthorne #nash hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #grayson davenport hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #xander blackwood hawthorne #xander hawthorne #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #tig #thl #tfg #taylor swift #dear reader

[365vibes]

We must first let go of the person we once were and the person we thought we should be

#365vibes #mood #vibes #poetry #quotes #life #dear diary #words #sza #saweetie #ciara #lana del rey #kylie jenner #quote #jennie kim #glam #law of the universe #law of attraction #gratitude #greatful #Roxie nafousi #manifesting #manifest

[thismessymasterpiece]

If you don’t mind can yo I do me a favor?

Go to the linked post on my account

Then go to ‘read and reblogged’

Then click on the Harry Potter link

Then lightning era

And any of the characters that have a link and see what it takes you to

I’m updating the links and for me it’s showing no post is there but I wanna make sure before I make another post to go in that category

only some are working for me :(

#let me know if you think of anything i can do to help! #i am dutifully at your command my dear :) #kylie my beloved :) #my reblog buddy #the steve to my dustin :)

[ofstoriesandstardust]

“deh has a toxic representation of mental health” blah blah blah

so big/so small 🤝 rebel and maverick

#kylie rambles #same mistakes #dear evan hansen

[thebutcher-5]

Upgrade (film)

Benvenuti o bentornati sul nostro blog. Nello scorso articolo siamo tornati nel mondo del cinema e più precisamente nell’animazione, parlando dopo tantissimo tempo della Disney e i suoi classici, prendendo in esame una pellicola a cui sono molto affezionato, il loro 42° classico, Lilo & Stitch. Il dottor Jumba viene messo in prigione per aver fatto sperimentazioni genetiche illegali e aver creato…

View On WordPress

#action #AI #Andy Canny #Angelo Sahin #Artificial Intelligence #azione #Betty Gabriel #Blumhouse #Blumhouse Productions #Brian Kavanaugh-Jones #fantascientifico #film #Grey Trace #Harrison Gilbertson #IA #Intelligenza artificiale #Jason Blum #Jonathan Dearing #Kylie Du Fresne #Leigh Whannell #Logan Marshall-Green #Melanie Vallejo #movies #Recensione #Recensione film #sci-fi #Simon Maiden #Stefan Duscio #STEM #thriller

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

#cod x reader #cod fluff #john price x reader #john price fluff #captain john price fluff #captain price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick fluff #gaz x reader #gaz x fluff #soap x reader #soap fluff #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish fluff #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish fluff #cod mw2 x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 fluff #cod mw2 fluff

[3amclothesmonster]

ANGST TIME

Basically it's supposed to be a family photo from Kylie's perspective,

Inspired by a drawing I saw on @thegenderconfusedpuffball whiteboard!

I don't really have a tw for this it's just a broken family

Eddie didn't show up smh

Johnny belongs to @dottyorange

#Welcome home Dear family OC #Welcome home oc #Welcome home ocs #Dear family OC #Dear Family OCS #angst #Kylie Dear #Johnny Dear #Belle Dear #+ Mrs. And Mr. Dear #drawing

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 1 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 2

Summers spent cleaning the Georges' pool, mowing their lawn, fixing up their garage door, and giving the odd oil change to one of their cars was the norm for you. Your father had made it big as a self-made entrepreneur, climbing the ladder rung by rung all the way up from rock bottom, but he had ensured your upbringing reflected his humble roots. That meant that while you never had to go hungry like he did, your allowance was minimal. Enough for school lunch and a few dollars to spare.

Doing odd jobs around the neighbourhood had been your primary means of making money for the last couple of years. The block was pretty fancy, so not everybody wanted to hire some twerp with no experience when a professional was easily available. Even so, rich folk were surprisingly stingy. You had your own equipment, didn't ask for much and had a familiar face. The Georges were your longest-standing clients. Mowing their lawn in summer and shovelling their driveway in winter had been your job since you were thirteen.

That was probably the reason why Regina kept her distance instead of ridiculing you like everybody else. You went to the same high school, Northshore, but that was pretty much it. You hung around your own (loser) ilk and she had her (cool) troupe. She had this odd little clique with Gretchen Wieners and Karen Smith. You didn't know much about the two girls and you couldn't really tell if Regina even liked them. They hung out so they had to have something in common, right? You were but an observer at the end of the day, no matter how your neighbourly vantage point gave you a glimpse into Regina's life.

You counted her ignoring you as a blessing. It would've cut deep to fall victim to her new ways. This persona wasn't that new, you had to admit, but when you'd known her since practically diapers, high school was a pretty new development. She'd never been what people would describe as sweet or nice, but this mean girl persona was on a whole other level.

To be fair, you could very well understand why Regina was the way she was. You knew Mr George. You'd sat at the same dinner table as him, had experienced first-hand how his presence weighed on his family. Especially on Regina. Your father was the same way, all sharp edges with no time for tenderness, not even- especially not for his daughter. That'd been the reason you'd gotten so close to Regina in the first place. Most of the time it was just Regina, her mom and you at their house. Mrs George left you two by yourselves a lot 'cause she had to take care of Kylie. You loved being at the Georges' house.

(Expect, of course, those select few times Mr George was also there. But that was rare. Regina didn't invite you over when he was home.)

And now it'd been reduced to this. You, fishing leaves from the pool. Regina, inside with her new friends. Mrs George, lounging on the patio with a virgin margarita, chatting with you when you rounded the pool closer to her. Kylie, probably in the sitting room dancing along to whatever they played on MTV.

You straightened from your slouched position and groaned at the ache in your back. You leaned back with your hands braced at your sides, trying to stretch out the crick.

"Mrs George?" You hollered and waved your arms in her direction.

"Yes, dear?" She brightened up, perching up in her sun bed.

"You mind if I put my headphones on while I mow the lawn?"

"Oh, sure, of course!" She waved a hand dismissively. "Remember the glasses! And once you're done why don't you have dinner with us?"

"I'll think about it, Mrs George." You smiled with thin lips, knowing you'd be turning the offer down. With that, you plugged your headphones into the Walkman at your hip and walked to the shed.

You wore the safety glasses obediently, knowing all it took to blind you was one unlucky pebble to the eye. Your dad had been sure to lecture you about workplace safety over the years, like every time you stepped foot in the shop, so at this point putting on embarrassing safety equipment was second nature.

The Georges had a big lawn. Stingy rich people, couldn't get one of those driveable mowers. You'd be pushing this cart around till nightfall, or something...

Usher's newest album blasting in your ears and the rumbling of the lawn mower muffling all background noise, you didn't notice her at first. By the time you caught sight of Regina standing on the patio stairs, looking your way, hands on her hips and a displeased frown on her lips, you feared you were too late.

You let the engine die and tugged your headphones away from your ears. "What?" You yelled across the pool.

She rolled her eyes before answering. "Mom wants you in for dinner."

"Oh," This had never happened before. Usually, Mrs George would come round to give you your payment, ask you to stay and you'd say no. She'd smile sadly and say "Maybe next time, sweetie".

"She made casserole," Regina said, inspecting her nails. What was for dinner was definitely not the reason for your hesitation.

"Uh, I don't wanna intrude-"

"You wouldn't have been invited if it was an intrusion, idiot." She cut in sharply. "Don't be rude." And so, she swept inside.

"Uh- I- I'll finish up as fast as I can!"

#mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls movie #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #wlw #lesbian regina george #fic: yard work

[neil-gaiman]

Dear Mr. Gaiman,

I am a self published author, and several people have told me now that promoting my books is attention seeking behavior. This kinda hurt my feelings and I don’t really know how to respond. If I don’t promote my books, no one else will. Last I checked there are no book advertising fairies. However, I can tell they are annoyed that I talk about my writing and that they feel like attention seeking is a very bad quality. I don’t want to come across as annoying.

In general I feel quite deflated, and I’m hoping you can give me advice on the whole thing.

Thank you for your time,

Kylie

You are right. You need to promote your writing. Normally that gets pushback when people do it wrong -- either by promoting their writing to people who do not want to read it, or promoting it when people are not ready to hear it.

People on Tumblr don't particularly mind me promoting books, but then, posts like that are probably one in a hundred or more and are usually going to be a bit apologetic. Because I'm aware that nobody is following me to have me tell them to buy my books. They are here because I'm funny or interesting or informative or somehow add to their lives.

The most important thing is just talking about what you want to talk about. Don't use your platform, whatever it is, primarily to network or advertise or whatever. Use it to just be you. Because people will stop and listen to what you have to say. And then people might actually listen when you point out that if they like what you wrote online they would probably like your books as well.

[lixzey]

Letters

info: mentions of blood, car accident, foster home, and death

The Eleventh Letter

Timothée Chalamet is one of the most loved actors in the world. He had girls all over the world who love him. But there's one girl, the most special in his eyes. Not that he's biased—or maybe he is, but Y/N made him feel things no other girl ever had. Timothée had dated his fair share of women: Madonna's daughter: Lourdes, Johnny Depp's daughter: Lily-Rose, hell he even dated Kylie Jenner. But none of them compare to Y/N L/N. 

Yes, she was hurting—he couldn't deny that she was broken but Timothée hoped that she was alright and still breathing the same air as him. He wanted to help her or whatever it was she wanted. He didn't understand it, she was just another fan in the eyes of everyone else. Yet, here he was flying half across the continent to find her even if he had no clue whether she was at the address his Private Investigator found or not. It was a huge leap of faith, but he didn't mind. He needed to find her, he needed to let her know that he was listening, he needed to be there for her during her battles. But, what would happen when he finally sees her? Would she be happy?

Would he be devastated? Timothée looked at her picture again. Her beautiful smile, he could've sworn her laugh could light up the whole room. He wanted to run his fingers through her long hair—which made him feel like a creep for wanting to do that to a girl who he'll meet for the very first time. He wondered what it would feel like to have her in his arms. Y/N looked delicate like a flower—and if he'd wrap her in his arms, she would break. But deep down, Timothée knew that wasn't the case. Y/N was strong and brave, like a soldier going into war. Though, he still wanted to comfort her and tell her that everything would be alright and soon daylight will come. 

Timothée closed his wallet and put it back in his pocket. He then reached for the eight unopened letters in his carry on backpack. He took the eleventh letter from the stack, and put the rest back. Timothée gently ripped open the envelope, it was dated August 5th, 2023. 

Dear Timothée, 

Can you keep a secret?

I want to tell you everything. I want to tell you everything so badly, I want you to understand who I am, who I was, and who I'm going to be. 

Well, here it goes. I hope you don't 'betray' me. Who am I kidding? Anyways….

I was ten. I was ten fucking years old when life decided to fuck me up. My parents died in a car accident. I was in that accident, unfortunately, I survived. My mother used her body as a shield to protect me. I was crying loud because I was scared—what kid wouldn't be scared? My mother was bleeding, my father was unconscious, and still my mother was whispering softly in my ear that everything was going to be okay. Everything else was a blur, that's all that I remembered. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital—alone and confused. 

I always ask myself, “Why did it have to be me?” I used to be this happy kid, with a happy family. And now? I'm this broken girl who doesn't know what else to do with her life. 

You might as now call me The Girl Who Lived. Yeah, yeah, I know I quoted Harry Potter.

My parents couldn't have any children. My mother had been told that it was nearly impossible for her to bear a child, but then after years of trying, I was born. 

I was a miracle, their little miracle. I was almost named Miracle, you know. My parents said I brought light into their lives. I made everything in their lives brighter and full of meaning. I was the gift they waited so long for. 

My life was full of love and happiness. I grew up seeing my parents be in love. I always wanted to fall in love like how my parents did, as a kid I thought of their love story as something that came out of a fairytale book. It's kinda cliché, but I loved it. They started out in college as pen pals, it was random really, because my father wasn't supposed to get my mother's letters because they were for someone else, who had the same name as my father. They exchanged letters without my mother knowing that the one who's replying to her letters wasn't the one she really intended. But they fell in love. Yeah, my mom did get mad at my dad for lying, but dad was persistent. He apologized every day for that until they graduated college. After college, they met again at a café where mom worked. Sparks flew, and after two years they got married. After six years, they had me. Ten years later, they died. 

I wish I had died in that accident too. I wouldn't have spent the past eleven years in complete misery. Two days after my parents' funeral, I was sent to a foster home, until my aunt from my father's side could pick me up.

The day my aunt picked me up, my life became hell.

I can't write anymore Tim, fuck. I'm sorry, I just can't write anymore—tears are clouding my vision. I'll tell you more in my next letter, I promise. 

All my love, 

Y/N, The Girl Who Should've Died. 

p.s: sorry for the tear stains.

Timothée stared at the tear stains at the end of the paper—he could feel her pain just by looking at how much her tears stained the paper. He let out a shaky breath, before tucking the letter back in its envelope. He then looked at the remaining seven letters, waiting to be read. Timothée wanted to just teleport to where this girl was, if she was okay or not—he really wanted to hug her tight. This girl, Y/N, went through so much at a young age. He thought about what could possibly have happened when she started to live with her aunt. He assumed that her aunt mistreated her, and he felt a surge of anger course through his veins. How could someone hurt a child who had lost her parents? He wanted to hurt them, hell he wanted to punch someone right then and there on the plane. He was fuming, he was having trouble calming down. If he didn't he'd get arrested, and that won't be good. Timothée took a deep breath and opened his wallet again. The sight of Y/N's smile calmed him down. 

“Y/N, oh Y/N. Why do you make me feel like this?” Timothée muttered, the pad of his thumb caressing the photo as if he was trying to wipe her tears away. Timothée wanted nothing more than to be there for her right now. Before Y/N's letters, he was a normal guy—a normal actor, technically—but Y/N made him travel across the country just to find her, or even get a glimpse of her. There was something, and that something was pulling him in deep—deeper than he had ever been before. 

Who would've thought that Timothée Chalamet would fall in love with a girl who wrote him letters?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @bobthe-turmpetman29

[thebetawolfgirl]

could you PLEASE do something like timmy and y/n are in a relationship and they absolutely love eachother but he has to do that PR shit with Kylie and y/n is heartbroken when she sees the pics of them at the met gala and whiles she’s in LA and they in NY, she packs her things from their shared apartment and leaves Timmy without a word. Fact is they broke up, u choose the ending!💓💓

A/N: Holy Cabbage my first request! Be cool Beta! So i changed one thing, but I hope it’s to your standard and you enjoy it.

Warnings: A bit of angst!

A PR Nightmare

Timothée Chalamet was a man madly in love, not with LRD or any of the other PR women he’d been pictured with, although his photo gallery was full of his girl. Y/n Y/l/n, dear God even her name sounded like a prayer. She was beautiful, the most beautiful human being he has ever met. And not just physically but inside too, she had a heart of gold and a soul as pure as freshly fallen snow. She would offer her help without even a second thought, like it was as normal as breathing to help others.

Yes she was the one for him, he thought as he lay beside her in bed early morning watching her eyes flutter open and smiled at her. ‘Good morning my love’ he leaned forward brushing her long hair away from her face and placed small kisses on her shoulder as she hummed and slid over to lay her head on his chest ‘Do you really have to go into work today? We could just stay in bed all day’

He sighed running his fingers up and down her back. ‘I want nothing more than that, but mark says he needs to see me and it’s urgent. So it’s unavoidable I’m afraid.’

She sighed nodding and kissed up his chest and neck slowly reaching his lips and held his face and pecked his lips.

‘Make it a quick meeting and I’ll be here waiting for you my love.’

He hummed returning the kisses and groaned when she moved away.

He got up with her and got dressed quickly wanting to get back quickly so he could spend the entire day with her as she walked into the shower room.

When Timmy returned she knew there was something off about him. She only had to take one look at him to know he had been crying and ran over to him and took his face in her hands ‘Timmy? Timothée look at me baby, what’s happened talk to me.’ He pushed her gently against the nearest wall burying his face against her neck mumbling ‘They’ve put me into a relationship with Kylie Jenner.’

She closed her eyes and held him tight. ‘It’s okay, we’ll figure something out, okay?’ She held him close as he nodded against her neck her T-shirt damp from his tears.

Three months later y/n was at home alone in LA while Timmy was asked to do some work in New York. She was scrolling through Twitter not really looking at anything when she got a notification from Instagram. There dressed in all white was Timmy on the Met Gala carpet smiling lazily, with Kylie Jenner at his side smirking away.

Y/n felt her heart stop, he never said anything about attending the Met Gala this year, y/n stumbled to the bathroom hearing her heartbeat in her ears and threw up.

When she was finished she walked upstairs and began packing her things in the bedroom she had been sharing with Timmy. She grabbed her phone and printed out the photo using her Instax mini printer and stuck it on a note she would leave for Timmy ‘Hope you had fun.’

She walked downstairs and left the note on the table in the hall and locked the door behind her.

She knew he didn’t have a say in the contract, but he lied to her about his business in New York, and she never thought he would do that to her.

She drove off into the night, her phone switched to silent in her bag.

@tchalamss

@sufferingstarlight

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