Sunnyglowy - Isa

i’m still talking w mi ex, and now i’m the problem? tfffff

if u wanna get high with me, im in the back doin' crack drinkin' p-p-pepsi

That girl didn’t want to die, she just wanted out of that house.

me after crying so hard i ended throwing up:

goals

i know i’ve reached true confidence when i feel like a baddie even without people’s validation

ways to ensnare a charmer (lyney x reader)

Summary: a Lyney drabble! Mostly him being down bad and falling for you. There’s also a dance near the fountain at midnight~

Wordcount: 706

Confidence is an attractive thing. Lyney knows this, and so do you. 

He approaches you with a practiced smile, tricks up his sleeve to dazzle you (and the crowd). At the end of it all he gives you a rose, half an invitation and a statement to remind you of his interest. He wears this confidence like a shield against whatever rejection he might meet (be it direct, or the kind that comes in the acceptance of some but not all of him—gray and muddy his past may be). 

But then you answer with a quieter smile than usual. On a night where he’s walking you home with another charming excuse, you respond with sincerity in your gaze as you thank him for looking out for you, and for a moment Lyney swears the stars are twinkling in your eyes. 

The next day he finds you in the city while in a very good mood—only to falter and feel his cheeks grow red at your greeting.

“Good morning Lyney. Looks like the sun is shining as usual.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, it’s smiling at me as we speak.” 

The moment he shows that he’s capable of being flustered, it’s over for Lyney; you drop little compliments and lines around him without blinking an eye, leaving him to feel like he’s losing his mind.

Even if your lines weren’t all that extraordinary, Lyney finds himself focusing too much on the quirk of your lips to care. And now he’s thinking about the way you laughed when he was stunned speechless—he hasn’t seen that kind of laugh on you before, and a part of him wouldn’t mind being a fool if that’s what it took to pull that sound from you again.

-

As the both of you shed off the colors and costumes you wear in the day, you find yourself sneaking onto the top of buildings and roaming through the empty city at night. It’s a bit of a dance as much as it is a game of tag. Lyney chats about his siblings to you, and you ramble a bit about the things stressing you out this week.

Cheeks flushed and hair disheveled, you feel like school-children that have snuck out for some adventurous rendezvous. Fontaine should feel lonely when it looks as sparse as this, but as Lyney takes off his hat and bows to you while standing on the base of the fountain, it’s all you can do to return the gesture, stepping onto the makeshift stage.

The moonlight suits Lyney a lot more than the Sun, you realize. Not because of one's melancholy or the other’s brightness, but because of how he seems to unravel when the light is gentle and no one else is there to bear witness to his soul. 

You’re aware there is one barrier left, as you are still an audience—but just as Lyney never pushed for you to lower your walls, you would do the same for him. Share the moment and feel his warmth from underneath his gloves as he spins you one last time, and steps away.

Except that’s not quite the end of the dance. Lyney pulls you towards him once more, placing a short kiss against your lips as goodbye.

He mutters your name with that farewell, and you haven’t been able to forget how mesmerizing he looked up close. As much as you’ve been able to ensnare him, he’s not having much trouble keeping you captive under his gaze either.

The next morning, well… Lyney, for a lack of better words, really wants to kiss you again. 

He might’ve had a dream that essentially replayed the events of last night, except it ended with himself whispering a confession to you. He wakes up before dream-you can reply, and is in full-blown panic because it felt so realistic that he almost thought it was real (and if that were the case, why couldn’t he recall your answer?!)

“So if it’s alright with you…”

God, he buries his face in his hands. Why didn’t I say that last night? It would’ve been the perfect place, and just the thought of someone else winning your heart makes him want to bury himself six feet under.