delicate things can still be deadly
(I’m seriously lacking jewelry 🙀)
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delicate things can still be deadly
(I’m seriously lacking jewelry 🙀)
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁💿˖ . ݁💖༉‧₊˚.
very hungry caterpillar makeup! 🐛✨🌸
Covered in You
Pairing: Lars Lindstrom x reader (gn)
Warnings: None, slightly follows canon plot of movie / mentions of Bianca
Prompt: Lars Lindstrom always has glittery residue after meeting you.
An: This is my first time writing for Lars Lindstrom ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- This was such a wonderful movie!! Hope you enjoy!
Word count: 1.0k
The first time Lars Lindstrom noticed the glitter, he was sitting in his cubicle at the office, trying to focus on the spreadsheets in front of him. Margo had been by earlier, but she'd left after his usual monosyllabic responses. Then you appeared, practically glowing in the fluorescent light.
"Hey, Lars," you said softly, setting a stack of files on the corner of his desk. "These need your signature."
He nodded, reaching for them, and that's when he saw it…tiny flecks of shimmering gold on your fingers. His eyes traced upward, noticing more glitter dusted across your cheeks, a fine layer of sparkle that made your skin look like it had been kissed by fairy dust. Huh.
"Thanks," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, and he noticed your lips were glossy and shimmering. "No problem. Let me know if you need anything else."
You left, and Lars found himself staring after you, his heart doing something strange in his chest. He shook his head, forcing himself back to work, but throughout the day, he'd catch glimpses of you across the office. There was always that subtle sparkle, like you were a constellation.
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It was Karin who first pointed it out.
"Lars, honey, what's that on your face?" she asked one evening when he'd come over for dinner. She reached out instinctively, then caught herself, remembering his aversion to touch.
Lars's hand flew to his cheek, and when he looked at his fingers, they were dusted with fine, iridescent glitter. His face flushed a deep crimson at the embarrassment. How did this even get on his cheek?
"Oh," he said. "I must have...uhm I was near someone at work."
Gus raised an eyebrow at his brother's response but said nothing. Karin's eyes lit up, absolutely curious who was coming near Lars so much that he had glitter on his cheek, of all places.
"Someone in particular?" she pressed gently.
Lars shook his head quickly. "Just...someone. It's nothing."
But it wasn't anything. The glitter kept appearing; on his collar, on his hands, even once on the pages of a book he'd been reading at lunch. He couldn't seem to escape it!
He also couldn't seem to escape you.
You were everywhere…in the break room, at the copy machine, in the hallway. And every time you passed, you left a trail of sparkle in your wake. Lars found himself looking for it, watching the way your highlighter caught the light at different angles, noticing how your eyeshadow shifted from rose gold to warm copper.
One afternoon, you approached his desk with a small container.
"Here you go," you said, setting it down. "I noticed you've been getting glitter on you somehow. This is a cleansing balm; it's good for sensitive skin. It gets rid of makeup and glitter residue really well."
Lars stared at the container, then up at you with slightly widened eyes. "I...you don't have to.."
"I know," you interrupted, smiling as you lifted your hand. "But I feel bad. It's probably- no, it's for sure from me. I'm kind of a glitter addict and didn't realize I should be setting my makeup better." You laughed. "My friends say I leave a trail everywhere I go."
"I don't mind," he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "The glitter, I mean. It's...nice. It's very pretty.”
Your smile widened, and Lars felt something warm spread through his chest.
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Two weeks later, you were sitting beside him in the church hall during Bianca's funeral.
The whole town had turned out. It was a testament to how deeply they'd come to care for Lars, for all his quirks and peculiarities and the delusion of Bianca. And you were there, your shoulder occasionally brushing his in a way that made his heart stutter.
"Are you okay?" you whispered during the service.
Lars nodded, though his throat was tight. He looked at the small coffin, at the flowers arranged around it. But beside him, you were a lovely presence, and when he glanced at you, he saw the glitter on your cheeks catching the light from the stained glass windows. Despite the sad event, you looked almost ethereal.
After the service, the crowd slowly dispersed. Margo lingered nearby, but when Lars looked at you, something shifted in his chest.
"Would you like to take a walk?" he asked.
Your face lit up, and Lars felt like he'd just been given something precious. "I'd love to," you said softly.
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You walked through the quiet streets of the town, past the frozen lake where Lars had said goodbye to Bianca, past the church and the school and the homes of people who had become his support network.
"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I've been trying to get you to talk to me for months."
Lars ducked his head, his cheeks flushing. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm not very good at...this."
"At what?"
"People," he admitted. "Touching. Talking. All of it."
You stopped walking, turning to look at him. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over everything, and Lars could see the glitter on your skin more clearly than ever.
"I don't mind," you said, echoing his words from weeks ago. "I like you, Lars. All of you."
"Even with all the...the strange parts?"
"Especially the strange parts," you said, stepping closer. "I think they're what make you who you are. And I like who you are."
Hesitantly, Lars reached out. His fingers brushed against your cheek, and he felt the subtle texture of the glitter there, the warmth of your skin beneath. He'd spent his whole life avoiding touch. Touch felt like burning. He feared it, and yet, with you, it felt like the most right thing in the world.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
You nodded, leaning into his touch. "It's more than okay, Lars."
And then, for the first time in his life, Lars Lindstrom leaned in and kissed someone.
Your lips were soft and tasted faintly of that glittery cherry lip balm you always wore. When he pulled back, he saw the shimmer transferred to his own lips.
He laughed, feeling the glittery grains against his lips. "I'm covered in you."
You grinned, reaching up to touch his face. "Good. That's exactly how I want it." ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃⋆.
beaucockrell
green look for my shift 🪲🍀
Baked to golden perfection