#new album writing

[keyotosprompts]

snap a picture, bring it on

prompts for when you're utterly obsessed with someone

⇴ "who needs to look at the stars when i can look at you?"

⇴ there's tons of people crowding around person a, but they're solely focused on person b (who doesn't know person a)

⇴ "dude, what are you staring at? it's been five minutes" and person a, who turns around + is embarrassed, "um, what?"

⇴ when person a cannot take their hands off of their person b. it's like they're saying "mine mine mine" bc of how touchy they are

⇴ when person a looks EXTRA good, so person b teases them by on kissing them on the cheek, neck, jaw, and eventually lips.

⇴ ^^ "what's all of this for?" and person b hoarsely mumbles, "nothing," while pressing themselves closer into person a's neck + placing kisses all over

⇴ person a CHEERING when person b comes out in a formal outfit. like standing up and clapping in the middle of the dressing room.

⇴ "c'mere," person a says while opening their arms for person b. then person b proceeds to dive into person a.

⇴ staying up until 3am talking to each other. partially because they can't get enough of each other, and because both parties want the conversation to keep going (bonus points if they fall asleep mid convo)

⇴ "stay. i don't want you to go," person a says with a raspy, sleepy voice while grabbing onto person b's hand.

⇴ "it's scary how much i need you. sometimes, if you're not around, i genuinely believe i start losing it."

⇴ person a giving person b so much reassurance. telling b things like "you're amazing, you always have been," and "i know you're do great."

⇴ person a is rambling and drops the "am i talking too much?" and person b says "never."

⇴ literally having to resist the carnal urge to grab the other person and pull them into you

⇴ person a is unable to resist person b's teasing, so they grab their jaw and pull them into a lengthy kiss

⇴ person b looking at person a like they're one of the seven wonders, while person a is literally wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and a face mask

⇴ "what? do i look funny?" "i can't believe you just said that."

⇴ "kiss me again and again and again. i will never get tired of it–or you for that matter."

⇴ being grabby while making out. grabbing someone's ass, shoulders, jaw, waist, idc. (BONUS POINTS IF IT'S GRABBING ASS WHILE PICKING SOMEONE UP)

⇴ seeing their s/o and still having that physical reaction. like, heart racing at 124 bpm, gulping/swallowing, having to squirm around due to nervousness.

⇴ "can you come down here? i miss you."

⇴ being on someone's mind so much that they shove their face into their pillow and scream.

[kaixserzz]

eons adrift ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ wanderer x gn!reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎐 ꒱ "i'll come and find you in every life celestia will give me." "that's not possible, you and i both know that." "watch me!"

 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ cw: character analysis-ish, mildly proofread, drabble but it's kinda messy, its more like an idea than a fic LOLLL im sorry, hurt/comfort

scaramouche took you for a naive fool, just as he was when oh so stupidly believed those words as kunikuzushi.

you are but a human. a mere breath of his everlasting eternity. a few hundreds of years and he would forget everything about you.

insignificant, you humans were.

frail.

vulnerable.

so so easy to break.

as he walked into the path of darkness; consuming him and turning him into someone he doesn't recognize in the mirror no longer—kabukimono, kunikuzushi, the love of your life, was long gone. memories like the leaves that turn yellow and crumble to ashes as winter approaches.

yet the winter will remain in his empty chest for as long as he walks teyvat. churning into a blizzard of ice cold pain, destroying everything around him as it grows. he continues to walk this wretched path he chose.

but then he met someone, rekindling the spark that was once there beneath his porcelain skin. trying to light up a burn out wick, to bring an end to his winter and bring forth the beautiful spring he was once.

scaramouche never thought he'd love again.

even after all through the pain he went from the doctor's experiments, after roaming the great expanse of the abyss, after becoming the balladeer, the 6th of the fatui harbingers, he still felt.

love.

happiness.

pain.

sorrow.

and regret.

he hates it, but he loves them, just as much as he loved you.

though he allowed someone new worm their way into his heart, he kept them in arm's reach. he cannot bear to be vulnerable to someone else. they were human, they were to die; he is a puppet, he is meant to live on forever.

but then he heard them say things only you would say. giving him lavender melons you bought off the market, accidentally calling him names only you would know.

he remember that promise you made him before you died.

"i'll come and find you in every life celestia will give me."

scaramouche did not understand what he felt when he realized that his new lover, was in fact, just a reincarnation of you. and just like that, your name burns back itself into his mind—a name he thought he had erased into obscurity, along with his past.

he was a fool, scaramouche thought. he laughed at himself, a laugh void of humor, nor joy.

it was your name, your first incarnation, just in a different language.

it appears that scaramouche didn't like this feeling. of bitter butterflies in his stomach, the familiarity when you try to get close to him, the same smile you had, the light full of love in your eyes—it was all too much for him.

so he left you in the snow of his ever growing blizzard. buried under the thick layers of freezing ice.

and again, to your next reincarnation. a fatui, a vendor, an adventurer, a knight, a scholar—male, female, neither, or all of them; tall, short, plump, slim, dark or light skinned,

he cannot bear to lose you just as he first did.

slipping by his fingers, to the one thing he is not affected by.

death.

he doesn't accept the fact that your love has led you back to him, again and again.

why do you even keep coming back? don't you know he's part of the fatui? don't you know what he has done? don't you know what he has become?

and yet you'd knock on his door, calling his name with your voice full of warmth, arms wide for him to take and allow himself to be called yours again—all he had to do was open the door.

he has kept a lock on it ever since he met you again.

worn down and rotten; chains all rusted, handle jammed and barely working. he approaches the door once again. this time, as wanderer. a better version of himself,

one that's finally willing to open the door to you.

but you weren't there anymore, waiting for him on the other side.

how could you? you were never there in the first place.

not with this version of himself.

not as the wanderer.

and maybe that was for the best. even though he cries himself to sleep at night for all the things he has done to you. weeping, as he curls onto the sheets, praying to the stars above in hopes you'd hear his heartbroken apologies, yearning for your love, your touch, your smiles—

this was his punishment for hurting you, for being a fool. he was underserving of your love, after all.

"hey, wanderer, was it?"

a new voice, someone unfamiliar. he refrained from sighing, for buer's sake, and instead took a deep, refreshing breath. he turns, and the stranger smiles brightly at him.

immediately, as if the winds of spring has hit him all so suddenly in the face. the fragrance of blooming flowers that was once buried under the snow, the sun shining brightly in the skies, and birds chirping symphonies.

like the mornings brimming with new found hope, the smell of dew sticking onto his clothes as he trace his fingers all over the a tree's trunk. like the the juices of a fruit he sank his teeth into, dribbling down the corners of his lips and down his arms.

warmth tingled on his skin, and his heart leaps.

"nice to meet you!" you say your name, a name he has heard hundreds of versions before, all so different and yet they all felt and tasted like honey dripping down his tongue. "i hope we get along."

"yeah," he says, almost breathless, as the tears begins to well in his eyes. his fingers tremble, and his smile grew wobbly. tipping his hat down to avoid your gaze, his voice cracks. "i hope so too."

his door was wide open, waiting for you come in.

you grin, and take a step inside.

 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

author's note: "i thought this was a dottore only blog? SHUT UP!!!!! SHUT UP!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM MAD AT MYSELF TOO BUT THIS IS FOR @fatuismooches also new format because im too lazy to open my files :/ not back yet, i just wanna write this for the pookie 💗💗 ty for listening to me ramble like a madman ur single handedly gettin me thru it ong LMAOOO /lh

[delulluart]

Copia playing the guitar

Swiss smile Sticker made by @theruukot

[kidovna]

hozier having released unreal unearth right after good omens season 2 came out and now releasing the four track EP on will byers’ birthday. this one’s for the gay yearners

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

Speak Now is Taylor’s most neglected child and it makes me sad. I don’t think it’s intentional, I just think that there’s a lot of heaviness attached to it that makes revisiting it a bit painful.

[lungthief]

pete wentz watching mikey way laugh at heychris’s amazing new mexico sunset jokes and get when you were young dedicated to him by gabe saporta

[tteokdoroki]

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — first loves + bkg.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, fem + black-coded!reader, post war, implied bnha spoilers, hints of ptsd/panic attacks, first loves, loverboy bkg, idk what this is guys they’re just kids in love and i wrote this listening to the new(ish) 5sos album bye.

they say you never really get over your first love, katsuki bakugou can attest to that.

in the summer after his eighteen birthday, his parents take him on one last family vacation before he breaks into the hero industry. they go abroad, somewhere far away from the trail of heartbreak left in japan— it’d been a hard year. he’d lost a lot. bakugou’s vision shakes a little in his grey-pinkish eye, his skin is bumpy with scars over his eyes and under his shirts. he’s a little more afraid to go in public in fear of being recognised.

so, katsuki takes that venture abroad. where no one knows who he is and what he’s been through.

katsuki’s parents like to explore, they drag him under a sun that’s a little foreign and not like japan’s across a strange city to try new foods that expand his horizons and makes his tastebuds a little happier. they force him to take photos in front of old bridges and historic monuments— though his dad snaps a nice one of bakugou walking through the bustling streets, a backwards baseball cap resting on his nest of hair.

on the last night, they have dinner at a beachside restaurant— bakugou excuses himself when the noises get a little too much and remind him of a time where nearly he lost his life. he stumbles out, down the steps and along the vast stretch of sand looking for the space to breathe along the waterfront. waves crash hard against the shore like the anxiety attacking his brain and katsuki has to crouch down to get a hold of himself before the world tilts too far and he falls off the invisible edge.

“are you okay?”

when he looks up, red eyes narrowly avoiding the glare of the sunset— he sees a girl. her skin looks like it’s been kissed by the solar system, beautiful brown tone glowing under the golden night— accompanied brown doe eyes boring deep into his own, reading his soul as if it were only made up of the constellations beginning to dot themselves in the sky. she has these braids he’s never quite seen before but they frame the roundness of her cheeks perfectly and…he’s never felt love before, aside from the kind you have for friends and family and bakugou doesn’t believe in fate. everything happening for a reason and shit.

because that would mean what happened to him…well, it would mean he deserved it.

but in this moment, the moment this girl offers him her hand and crouches down to see if he’s okay. he feels it. love, filling the blood that pumps through his beating heart. slowly, tenderly, his calloused and marred hand takes her own— the girl making a small noise of content as they sit together, bottoms wet from the sand.

they stay there, together for a while. katsuki and this strange girl he’s only just met— listening to the seagulls call for one another just metres above their heads accompanied by the waves that roll along the shoreline as if they were made to be together. it calms him down, and sure enough bakugou’s chest stops it’s heaving and the scary noises in his head back off for the minute. his mother screams his name in the distance and the girl looks over the blonde’s shoulder with her lips in a pout and brows furrowed— quizzical as if she’s putting together pieces of a puzzle.

“oh, you probably didn’t understand me earlier, right?” she speaks suddenly yet hesitantly, her voice filling his ears like cotton, in broken japanese instead of the fluent english from earlier. “a-are you okay?”

bakugou hums shyly, cheeks flashing red. “‘m fine now. couldn’t breathe before.”

“i’m glad—“ she starts to reply but bakugou’s mother has always been persistent and irritating especially at the worst times— yelling his name again. the pair’s shoulders rise like cats on the prowl and the girl let’s out the cutest laugh he’s ever heard in his life. “i think your mum’s calling, katsuki.”

“s-shut up!” bakugou scrambles to his feet just as the girl does, brushing the sand from her warm skin.

“you should go! i’ll see you around, kay?”

she’s gone before he can even blink, as if she were never there. the only way he truly knows that the girl was real is all thanks to his mother— mitsuki pestering him with questions about the girl all the way back to the restaurant. who was she? did you know her? are you okay? they all go through one ear and come out of the other. all bakugou can think about from then is how she thought she would see him again.

which wouldn’t happen, since he was leaving tomorrow.

for the next ten years, memories of the girl with honeyed brown skin and darling chocolate eyes haunt katsuki’s every waking moment. he tried everything in his power to forget her, his first love— even if they moments they shared together were brief, they’re all he thinks about when the world gets a little too ugly and a little too heavy to sit on his shoulders.

no one had ever been that gentle with him, treated him so kindly at first sight— after seeing all of him, scarred and all. no one has ever compared to her since.

that is until the warm tones of your voice echo through the dynamight agency one day— your japanese a little stronger than it was almost a decade ago when it changed the trajectory of katsuki bakugou’s life.

“h-hi, i’m here for the assistant role for um…dynamight?” you say, still shy and hesitant, still quiet and cute.

and only the heavens know how thankful katsuki is for not forgetting his first love— for remembering the way you talk, the way your eyes shimmer as he rounds the corner and reveals himself to you. taller than you remember, older and wiser than in your head— but still your first love too.

“you’re okay!” you squeak upon his reveal, clutching your bag in one shaky hand— voice wobbling as if you’d been worried about bakugou this entire time.

the blonde nods simply, trying to remember what it was he said to you all those years ago when you’d first asked him that.

“‘m fine, feel like i can breathe again.”

[good-beans]

Kudos to anyone making ocgrams, that's really an impressive amount of content 👁👁

[dozydawn]

Taxi, May 1989. “Fragrant Deception”

Photographed by Steven White.

Models: Jessica and Rochelle Relyea.

“The bawdier maiden got the rogue in the sack, But all he could do was write on her back.

He could not perform in the way she desired; By the scent of another his fancy was fired.”

[franklyimissparis]

jet skis on the moat

mr schwartz

[abyssalzones]

I'm glad that transfem stan post is one of my most popular gf art posts to date. I think if we all try really hard we can firmly establish the concept into the late-term gravity falls fandom zeitgeist similarly to ford being gay. take my hand

[420technoblazeit]

literally so dangerous living in a world where someone you know could be a swiftie. at any given moment i am in danger of being pulled into an hour long listening party where i nod every couple of seconds and go mhm yeah no it's good! she's such a good lyricist she gets it. yeah.

[hearts4pearlescentmoon]

Watercolor practice

[hcdragonwrites]

Epilogue ( @journey-to-the-au Fic)

This is what happens at the end of Tea trouble. It’s just short but it’s because I wanted to write fluff and cuddles and warmth.

The sun sank slowly into the sea, painting that great swath of liquid to fire. Willow felt the soft weariness sneak into her face as finally, finally her family mounted their heavenly steeds and kept back into the sky. The stars were beginning to appear in the darkening night. Gold, wood, water and fire. They marked the sky with their light as she waved her sisters goodbye.

From the mouth of babes came a second peace, a second chance. Lychee had offered the peach and Winter had taken a bite from it. An exchange and a wave of apologies. Willow had spent that time swapping tales and trading secrets of her home. Of her mountain. With her sisters. They listened attentively. They touched her hand- sought comfort and reassurance they had not lost her forever in their callous remarks. Willow reassured, reaffirmed and rebounded with each of her sisters.

She was exhausted. Willow sighed, itching her scalp. Her hairpins still bothered her, and her clothes felt too heavy. She wanted nothing more then to sleep for a fortnight. Anger was an emotion Willow rarely dove into, rarely utilized and unleashed. Calm rage? Yes. Anger that blinds like this one did ? No. It left her feeling achy and tired and o so sensitive to her skin.

Willow sighed. She was so thankful to the fruit troop, to Pear and Apple, Pomelo and Mulberry. And Lychee. The bravest little mischief maker ever. The first to offer a olive branch to her sisters and to forgive them. No one will talk that way to them ever again.

For now as the sun cast itself into the sea Willow felt her final strength ebb and fade with its light. She took a step back to rebalance herself —

Great large furred arms swung her up and over broad shoulders. She squealed in surprise as Wukong raised her up, growing in size himself.

“WILLOW!” He practically roared as the rest of the mountain followed suit. Thousands of the troop came racing forward, pressing close and reaching up to her from the spot on Wukongs shoulders. The rest of them were crowing and hollering and screaming. Calling her name.

“Gather the softest pillows and blankets ! The night will hold for us all- set the guards to chasing any beasts out of the groves. Light the fire pits! And everyone GATHER YOUR FAVORITE FRUIT!” Willow heard the roar of the crowd as they thundered off. Hammocks were pulled between trees, bundles of blankets and pillows and downy things were dragged and set down in the field. Monkeys lit the fire pits that lined the clearing, the great orange light casting dancing shadows as the sun continued its decent. Willow saw the troop laugh and chortle as they brought fruits out. A veritable second feast of food. Kiwis, grapes, oranges, watermelons, melons and nectarines.

Wukong kept Willow on his shoulders. Willow was too tired to ask why or deny the outward pouring of love from her earthen family. This was just the way they heaped support and love onto her. A veritable jungle of nests and hammocks, of blanketed caves and soft spots to lay soon covered the grass all around.

To tangle and tug and touch was the Monkey way of showing love. Willow sighed, laying against her husbands very soft and large head.

“What did I do ? It was all my fault.”

“Hush you I won’t hear you taking the blame for others ever again.” Wukong admonished. Several of the troop had gathered nearby, dragging a forest of bedding and plush to make nests and enjoy the night. Wukong set himself down in the thick of the troop, taking Willow up off his shoulders and into his lap. His tail coiled around her a hand against her middle. The giant monkey practically swamped her as he chirped and cooed, crooned and kissed her temples and nose.

“Wukong don’t swallow her!” Ba admonished. Willow peered from between the fur of Wukongs neck. She felt like a chick beneath a mother hen, completely covered and warm. She saw Ba setting up a little nest beside them. Beng was busy swinging Pomelo and Mulberry about-throwing them into pillows that bounced them slightly in the air.

“Save some for the rest of us please.” Ba snorted. Lychee was seated on Chestnuts shoulders talking his mothers ear off about his day and how he and his friends had gotten Little Weaver Girl to braid them flower crowns. He still wore his on his brow, eyes bright. They two set their bedding and nesting material down beside them.

“Are we all sleeping out beneath the stars ?” Willow asked. Wukong didn’t say yes with words. He was too overcome with an emotion, a puff of pride that expanded his chest. Here was his Willow Tree. The strong women who had been betrothed to him but had chosen him- heart and soul. Willow who had turned Huaguoshan into a protected area. Willow who had stalwartly sat beside him when he had been burning and boiling and close to madness inside that bronze prison. Willow who had bravely offered herself to the Imposter to save the rest of his family. And it had been Willow again who had chosen his people and family, his friends and loved ones, and had brought to heel celestial who thought they could talk down to him and what was his.

Whatever I did - whatever luck shot through my sky and made my stone sentient - I am glad it made me in time to be with her.

“Yes princess.” He softly whispered to her. “You defended all of us yet again. You brilliant warrior.” For she was a warrior. Not of blades or fists or claws of teeth. Words were her weapon and she used them brilliantly. More accurate then an arrows fall, she pierced Huaguoshan enemies with no bloodshed.

If I had met her when I was seeking my enlightenment … before I sought Heavens recognition… he wondered. Would his life have gone on a entirely new path? Wukong mussed her hair with his teeth, nibbling until she tapped his jaw in play.

His friends settled about them and the rest of the troop began to visit Willow, offering food and comfort. The little bundle of baby fruits ran across the clearing. They had been hero’s and they didn’t even know it.

Wukong lay curled over and around Willow like some large languid cat, tail tucked possessively about her. He became larger still, letting the little fruits climb onto his back in their play. Rin Rin came forward and Wukong allowed her to take Willows hair down, to groom and to ease her scalp.

Rin Rin heard the story as Wukong, Ba, Liu and Beng recounted it. They were now all here against Wukongs side, grooming and offering fruits or each other, to Willow. The love was a warm glow in the night , a glow that came from within and rivaled that of the dying sunlight. Ba kept off his pranks and offered Willow sour green grapes- and his deepest vows of loyalty. Wukong snorted happily, a large hand gently scratching along Willows back. Beng checked their little word warrior over and then gave her a single hardy shake. Ma was blubbering with Rin Rin who simply held on and brushed Willows hair out. Liu bowed and offered his own vows of loyalty- setting Ba to trying to outdo him.

Wukong waited till the stars were bright in the sky, the moon rising now to cast her silver light to whisper and speak praise and words of love. He wanted to drown her in the emotion that beat in his chest. It was a glow as steady as the sun and as wild as the world. It was not the same love Rin Rin or Liu or Ba or Chestnut Or Beng Or Ma experienced.

Forever and always. I will See her days filled with joy and peace. I will topple the very pillars that hold this world up to give her that. Wukong watched her burrow into his side, fingers curled in his fur. He looked to the sky, to the Heavens. To beyond that- to the cosmic sphere of reality. The universe beyond the Heavens.

“Thank you for making her. She’s perfect.” Words failed. Perfect was so silly of a word. Willow was more then perfect. She was victorious, stalwart, kind, compassionate, a stone to rest his back against and the shade that hid him from the burning sun.

“I will keep you. Forever. Until the very definition of eternity crumbles. Thank you Willow, for filling my days with your love.”

Wukong kissed her temple and pulled her into his warmth, pulling several of his with her. Tails and hands, feet and limbs all intercrossed and overlapped. They were tangled, intertwined like the roots of a tree. Grounding the willow tree they all loved to their earth, to their mountain.

[boyfhees]

1 : 45 PM

W. mentions of food

atsumu doesn't like how this is going.

"daddy," his eyes lands on his daughter's frowning face, and while it pains his heart to deny her request, a certain voice inside his head keeps telling him to not fall for her tricks again. "please,"

'no 'tsum, you already gave her a lot of sweets this week,' he can hear you saying in with hands on your waist, as if you're giving him a lecture again. 'what if she gets cavities?'

and while he understands your concerns and his duty as a responsible dad, his responsibilities stand a bit fragile when it comes to his daughter's innocent requests— which may not be so innocent right now because she's asking him to give him candies, reassuring him about how she wouldn't tell you about it.

he looks at the box of candies resting on the top shelf, his heart almost giving into her request before he shakes those thoughts off his mind. "no, princess, we can't,"

"but why?" she whines. 'because i don't want to sleep on the couch again,' he wants to say. you love sleeping next to him, clinging onto his arm or burying your face in his chest, but he needs to be humbled at times, and usually when you have to remind him that he can not fulfil all her requests just because she's the apple of his eyes.

it's quiet for a while. maybe she understood, he thinks. she'd be upset, reciting trails of 'i hate you daddy,' — which atsumu despises, really— he'll get her talk to him eventually. he takes a sigh in relief, almost, until he feels little fists tucking around his sweats, eyes brimming with tears.

oh shit.

if her tears are daggers to his chest, his tiny grip with pleading eyes are salt to the wound. while the candies could be the remedy to his pain, your angry face is like a sword at his neck, the couch being the prison cell. and atsumu would do anything, to not go to the prison, and yet help little his princess.

so he lifts her up, patting her back as he mumbles the same request, again. "how about you wait for mom to wake up and we'll ask her?"

"why do you keep talking about mommy?" she pulls back, hands still around his neck as she stares at him with slight annoyance. "daddy are you scared of mommy?"

and oh boy, she doesn't know.

however, atsumu has a reputation to maintain. "no— 'm not scared!" he exclaims. "but, wouldn't it be better if daddy, mommy and princess enjoyed the candies together, hm?"

she averts her gaze, shuffling in an attempt to get him to put her down. "you're just scared mommy will make you sleep on the couch again,"

"what?" he asks, even though he's sure he heard her clearly the first time.

"nothing!" he flinches at her loud loud, afraid it'll wake you up. or maybe, he just wants you to wake up and handle her yourself. "but daddy, if you don't give me the candies, i'll tell mommy that you broke her favorite cup."

did he hear her correctly? words get stuck in his throat, eyes wide open at the smirk plastered on her face. he pulls her closer, cupping her cheeks, "baby, what are you—"

"i saw you throw it in the bin after mom fell asleep," she cuts him off. "if you don't give me candies, i will tell her." and it was at this moment he knew, he's done for.

atsumu doesn't waste another second and grabs the box of candies, hoping you don't wake up anytime soon. while a part of him soothes at his daughter's precious smile as she grabs the box with her tiny grabby hands, his heart is still not at piece knowing that she holds a very sensitive information against him.

while keeping secrets was a pact between the father-daughter pair, he knew she'd snitch on him if you pressed enough, and he had to make sure that doesn't happen. "now, princess, promise me you won't tell mom."

"tell what?" crap. "and what are you bo— are those candies—tsumu!" you rush to your daughter, snatching the box away before she put another candy in her mouth. "what did i tell you?"

"i'm sorry, baby, you know i can't—"

"—can't resist her, yes i know. but you have to! it's about her health. you can't just hand her a box full of candies!" you put the box away, crouching before your daughter. "and you, little missy, didn't mommy tell you to her for candies if you wanted to eat one?"

"but daddy said i can have as many as i want if i don't tell you that he broke your favorite cup."

"when did i say that?!" atsumu gasps dramatically, pointing at his daughter, with panicked eyes settling upon your livid face. "y/n, let me expla—"

"miya atsumu, do you have a death wish?!"

taglist in the rbs.

[regina-mortis]

It's Easter Sunday 🌸😈🐰