#on repeat is so funny cause it’s like here’s the songs you’ve been listening to over and over the past few days.

[wiredentrails]

tagged by @frnk3nstein :-) based as fuck list. Btw. tysm for tagging me!

shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist and list the first 10 songs that play :]

1. winter city ghosts - sparky deathcap

2. the same place - centaur

3. D>E>A>T>H>M>E>T>A>L - panchiko

4. song about staying - vyva melinkolya

5. doomed gf song - vyva melinkolya, midwife

6. hail mary - skating polly, louise post, nina gordon

7. for the workforce, drowning - thursday

8. broken - sleater-kinney

9. this woman’s work - kate bush

10. nothing bad ever happens - amelia cry til i die

hi @hauntinghouse @lesbianboyfriend @scorndotexe @femmepathy @thedivinemagnet i am tagging u if u want to do this :3

[obsolescent]

This Side of Paradise - Part One

Part Two

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x GN!Reader

Summary: Kyle and you are roommates–flatmates–while you study abroad in the UK. He’s usually gone due to his work and it doesn’t bother you, at first. You like being alone and like little company, but you start to feel an odd pang after a traumatic event happens that causes him to come back from base early. 

Category/Prompt: Two-part series | "I'll take care of you."

Author's Notes: Ahhh I'm so excited to be participating in @glitterypirateduck's GazFest! I've been meaning to finish this and this has given me that push. This is also the first event I've participated in on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy!

Content Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a fire but not very descriptive, reader is from the southern US, reader is more introverted, Kyle is worried for your wellbeing.

Word Count: 1,267

Another night studying, another night alone. You don’t mind, being more on the reclusive side. You really don’t mind having to interact with others, you just prefer not to. Speaking of which, you quite enjoy having a roommate–flatmate, as he would say–that’s hardly home. He doesn’t correct you in a rude way, more like he’s trying to teach you to use more of the dialect here. He’s gone for months at a time every once in a while, typically it’s just a few weeks, then he’s back for a month and the cycle repeats. It has to do with the military, but that’s all he would say about his line of work. You have a part time job at a gas–petrol, he would correct you again–station. The cultural difference between home and here is a lot more than you were expecting, having been in America your whole life to suddenly being “across the pond.”

Though the interactions you have with people here are very amusing, the double takes when people hear you at work has you “hooting and hollering”, so to speak. Most ask for you to keep talking, interested in your accent. It’s led to a few good conversations, if you’re being honest. There’s a handful of some, though, who’ve heard you speak and think you’re dumber than a bag of rocks and let you know so. Those aren’t as amusing. Regardless, it’s been a pleasant experience overall while staying in the UK, especially with the one you’re rooming with.

Meeting Kyle was by chance. He had listed his…flat, on a website that helps students around the world find accommodation close to colleges and universities. You had seen in the listing that he wasn’t home often, and being more of an introvert, that seemed like the best option for you. You had reached out and agreed on a time to chat. He was more than what you were expecting in every which way. Charismatic, kind, funny, and definitely including looks. He’s a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. You’re glad he’s away for the most part, having someone around looking like that would surely be a distraction for you.

After that first initial conversation with Kyle, you were sure he would be the one you would be living with while studying abroad. After getting everything sorted out, between speaking with your advisor and obtaining a passport, you were set to fly out. Kyle practically demanded he pick you up and take you to your shared quarters, since the airport was quite a drive away from the apartment. He also mentioned wanting to show you around some. Ever the gentleman. Thankful for his offer at being a free tour guide, you take him up on the offer. You were glad to have met someone willing to help out and be so generous towards you, it was in his nature and you knew just by his interactions with you that he did this for everyone that came into his life.

Back to the present, it’s a Tuesday night, and there’s not much going on for you. After leaving work, you came home and made a quick dinner for yourself and settled down on the couch for a study session. You slide your earbuds in, unable to focus if it’s an actual song, and listen to sounds of nature, rain and the like. Hours have passed since you’ve immersed in your college work, sounds blaring through the speakers in your ears. You don’t realize the fire alarm has started blaring.

What finally gets you to notice is the sudden phone call that cuts the sounds out, a call from Kyle. He must’ve received an alert. “Hey–woah–I just noticed that–” “Bloody Hell! Are you still in the flat? Get outside! Christ!” You don’t even think, your brain going into panic mode, you snatch your shoes from beside the door and run for the stairs. You’re on the fifth floor, happy that you can see so much of the city, but not so happy in the event of a fire, like now. You’re not sure where the fire is located, you’re just hoping it won’t prevent you from reaching the exit. ‘What the hell would I even do if it is? Don’t think like that, just keep running, just keep going don’t think about it–’

“Are you there, love? You alright? Please say something–” Kyle’s frantic voice finally breaks through your internal monologue, earbuds still secured in your ears. “S-sorry, Kyle, I was just…I’m on my way down, I’m on the third floor now.” Your feet carrying you faster than you’ve ever ran before, you’re not seeing anyone else on the stairs…God, how long has the alarm been going off? What about the sprinkler system, why hasn’t it turned on already?’ “Thank God, it’ll be alright, just take some deep breaths and keep pushing, yeah? You’ll be outside before you know it. I’m right here with you.” His reassurance is welcomed, taking his advice, you begin some breathing exercises the best you can while scurrying down the flights of stairs.

Second floor, almost there. You feel like you’re flying down the steps, everything numb. You round the corner, about to hit the top step of the next flight when you see it. Fuck, that’s smoke. “K-Kyle, the fire, it’s on the second floor.” You begin to cough, covering your nose and mouth with your sleeve. “Fucking hell. Go back up to the previous floor. The hallway windows should have an external fire escape. Try those, yeah?” You nod your head even though he cannot see, trying to breathe like he told you to. You push the door open into the third floor’s hallway, the window to your right just a few feet away. You rush to it, having to yank on the window a few times before it pries open.

It’s one of those ladders that retracts, the end of it about 20 feet from the ground without the extension. You try releasing the mechanism that will release the other part to extend fully, but it won’t budge. You toss your shoes to the ground below, beginning to brace yourself to drop the rest of the way. “Did you get it?” You hear him ask, shuffling coming from his side of the call. “Y-yeah I got it, the ladder won’t extend all the way, fall’s maybe 20 feet.” “You can do it, love, just tuck your chin and lower your head when you drop. May be bruised and cut up some, but you’ll be alright, you can do it.” You get to the last rung, letting yourself dangle for a moment before taking the leap, literally. You take a deep breath and let go.

You hit the ground with an explosion of pain in your left arm. Letting out a cry of pain you hold onto your arm, moving other limbs in different directions to check their conditions. Kyle yells your name, “Hey! I need you to answer me, are you alright? What’s wrong?” Kyle cuts through the fuzziness in your brain. “F-Fuck. My arm, I think I broke it.” You begin to stand on shaky legs, testing the rest of your endurance. You falter and collapse to the ground, absolutely exhausted. The adrenaline must have worn off now that you’re no longer in immediate danger.

You lay your head back against the concrete, staring up at the night sky. The moon is bright and beautiful, hanging low. It’s the last thing you see before you slip into unconsciousness, Kyle calling your name over and over again lost to oblivion.

Tags: @sofasoap, since you tag me in your Gaz fics!

[nightmaremp]

Weremayhem: Song of Beasts. Ch 23: The Office of Felines

 Nora walks into the Shack after running some tasks. “Hey” she said worriedly as she opened the door. Janice, Floyd, and Lips were standing there with their arms crossed.They looked so disappointed at Label Lady. 

“What did you do?” asked Floyd Pepper in a harsh tone. 

“Like, why would you tell the doc to just, like, end the process?” asked Janice. 

“Like, why would you do that?” she added. The black haired female’s eyes were wide. 

“Uh….’Cause this insanity has to stop and by the way you’re welcome” replied Nora. 

“Man, you just don’t get it, do you?” replied the red haired male. 

“Teeth can’t just end the process.” he added with a growl. 

“Why not?” asked Label Lady. 

“Cause, like, the process always ends with Teeth telling his parents no” replied the blonde female. 

“But the only way that happens is if he does the whole process” she added with Floyd and Lips repeating it at the same time. 

“But now, you done prematurely ended said process. Teeth never says no and embraces the horrible life of a financially secure dentist” said Floyd, Lips and Janice repeats what he said. 

“Listen, there’s no way Dr. Teeth is gonna be Dr. Teeth, the dentist one. I’ll figure out a way to bring him back” replied Nora. 

“I would wait until after the next flashback” replied Floyd pepper. 

“What flashback? Teeth isn’t even here.” replied the black haired female. 

“It ain’t his flashback.” replied the red haired male. 

“It’s mine,” he added. 

The flashback starts in a dentist office. A 20 something year old Teeth in a dentist outfit was messing around with some fake teeth. His hair had gotten long to be put in a man bun. He had some chin hair growing. 

“I don’t think you’ve been brushing, Eugene” chuckles Junior as he uses a toothbrush to brush the fake teeth. 

“Excuse me” said a voice from the doorway. The ginger haired male stops. 

“I’d like to make one reservation for the Cajun Pride Swamp Tours,” the male added. 

“Well, it pains me to tell you, but their office is next door” replied the doc as he slowly turn to face the guy. Floyd’s eyes got wide in shock to see Teeth. 

“Oh, hey, it’s you! It’s the good doctor” replied Floyd Pepper with his arms open. 

“Well, I’ll be” replied the ginger haired male. 

“If it ain’t Sergeant Pepper” he added. The red haired male chuckles. 

“You just wandered into my family’s dental practice,” said Teeth. 

“Oh, is that  what this is? Ain’t life funny that way” replied Floyd Pepper. The good doctor laughs. 

“Since I’m here, you might as well take a look under the hood, huh?” he added. 

“All right, open wide and say ah” replied Teeth. 

“Ahhhh” said the red haired male as he open his mouth wide. The doc take a look inside the other male’s mouth. 

“Yep. I see the problem” said Junior. 

“What’s that?” asked Floyd Pepper. 

“You ain’t got no teeth” replied the ginger haired male. 

“Oh” replied the red haired male. 

“You’re gonna need a bridge” replied the doc. 

“Well, you already gave me one of those, remember?” replied Floyd as he grabbed his guitar. He starts to play a guitar riff.

“I meant a dental bridge, but yours is much more pretty,” replied Teeth. Floyd Pepper suddenly pull out the hominca from before. 

“Come on. You still have it?” asked the doc in shock. 

“I shouldn’t. But I shall” he added as he grabbed the hominca. 

“Oh!” said Floyd before they start playing blues music. 

Tina suddenly walks in. “What in the blessed bayou is going on…” she started to say before she gasped. 

“You again?!” said the ginger haired female with a hiss. 

“Ma'am,” replied Floyd Pepper. 

“What is that busker boy doing in here?” asked Teeth’s mother as she put her hands on her hips. She looked dead into her son’s eyes. 

“That’s what I keep asking myself, mama,” replied her son with a whimper. 

“The universe keeps bringing us together,” he added. “I think it’s destiny,” said Junior. 

“Dentistry is your destiny” replied Tina. 

“And one day, you will take over and bring miles of smiles to everyone just like you promised.” she added. Teeth kept his head down. 

“Right, gerald?” asked his mother. His father walk by the room, unaware of what is going on. 

“Yep” replied his father, who was looking through some paperwork as he walked by. Junior looks at the red haired male. 

“Mama’s right. I made a promise to take over the family practice.” said Teeth to Floyd as he handed him the hominca back. His mother nods her head before leaving the room. The doc turns and walks away. 

“I just didn’t say when,” said Junior. He picks up the solid gold tooth floss case and takes it out of its frame. 

“What you doing there?” asked the red haired male. 

“Oh, just a little bit of security, you might say. Let’s go” replied Teeth as he put the case over one of his teeth. Making it a gold tooth. 

“Where are we headed?” asked Floyd. 

“To our destiny” replied Junior as he smiles at the red haired male. The gold tooth shines in the light. 

They quickly took the Molar Express and drove off. “Think your parents will miss the bus?” asked Floyd Pepper. 

“Absolutely,” replied  Dr. Teeth. 

The flash back ends. “Man, long flashback.” said Nora. The red haired male, Janice, and Lips turn to Zoot who was on the couch. 

“Yeah, Zoot’s still in it” replied Floyd. The dark blue haired male kept staring like a deer in headlights. 

He groans softly as his small flashback happens. The saxophonist was making some fake teeth sing a song in an office. The flash back ends. “Rotting away” softly sings Zoot. 

“All right. No more flashing back. We gotta help Teeth with his parents.” said Nora with a bit of a stern tone. 

“We’re too late. He’s gone” replied Janice. “He’s with his parents at Cavity Con.” she added. 

“And he left this behind” replied Floyd Pepper as he showed Label Lady the solid gold floss case that Teeth used for his gold tooth. 

“His gold tooth cap?” asked Moog in shock and worried tone. “He really is gone gone” he added. 

“No. Everyone go grab your gear. It’s time to go make some mayhem.” replied the black haired female. 

“Let’s go,” said Floyd as they headed out the front door. 

Lewis followed them with his little sister in his arms. He didn’t follow his father to the event because the ginger haired boy didn’t want to see his father lose his happiness. 

Animal and Moog got up and were about to go out the door. “Nora,” said the drummer. 

“Oh, God, not again” replied the black haired male. 

“Look, this gig is the most important opportunity in my life, and I’m not gonna blow it by crushing on my boss,” he added. 

“Not that I am” Moog said with wide eyes at the wild man. 

“Nora!” replied Animal. 

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little” replied the black haired male. The drummer chuckles. 

“You don’t know her. She only dates, like, super slick dudes like JJ.” he added. 

“You know, and I’m just a struggling…” Moog started to say. “Why am I explaining this?” he asked. 

The black haired male takes a deep breath. “Just drop it. Okay?” he asked. 

“Hey, you coming or what?” asked Nora as she peaked around the front door. 

“I’m all yours” replied Moog with some blush on his cheeks. 

“Don’t” he said to the drummer who was about to say it. The wild man sighs. 

“Okay” replied Animal. 

“Okay” replied Moog before walking out of the Shack. 

“Nora” said the drummer before laughing. 

[chooseyourownavenger]

[START] [ABOUT AND WARNINGS] [FAQ]

IRONHAWK/ Do the big grand gesture

“Okay -” you say,  sitting back and running your hands over the top of your head.  “We can do it your way.  One big grand gesture.  But I don’t think doing a Dobler will work for Tony.  His window is super high up and he wouldn’t hear the boombox.”

Clint laughs.  “Maybe if it was a really big boombox?”  He sits and thinks for a moment.  “Leave it to me, I think I have something.”

It’s several weeks before Clint can set things into motion.  He wants there to be a crowd around when you both make the move.  He wants Tony to feel so awkward that his fight instinct will come out.

You need a party and while convincing Tony to have a party doesn’t normally take a lot, it’d be suspicious coming from Clint.  He manages to convince Natasha to convince Rhodey to convince Tony that it’s time for a big, blowout, Stark-style party.  Coming from Rhodey, Tony agrees to a party quickly.  It’s funny that he’s not suspicious given how often Rhodey tries to talk Tony out of throwing parties.

You show up in an iridescent party dress on the arm of Clint.  The two of you are making the most of your time together as a couple.  You still want Tony to be back together with you both, but you’re starting to realize, either way, you and Clint will be okay as a couple.

Everyone knows about you and Clint dating, so no one spares a second glance when the two of you get up to sing karaoke about two hours in.  Clint has picked the time because it’s far enough in for everyone to be drunk enough not to question why the Karaoke machine is out.

“Hey everyone!” Clint says into the microphone. “You have to listen to us.  We’re doing a duet.”

There’s a mixture of groaning and clapping and you started to scan through the songs. “Before we do though, I just have something I need to say.  We - well - for a while we’ve been messing around.  We had a thing with each other but also with someone else.  We said it would be casual but then we fell in love.  Unfortunately, the other party didn’t want to deal with those feelings.  So we’re here now to say; Tony Stark we are in love with you, and the only reason you're scared of things not working out in the future is because you’re in love with us too.  We think you’re worth the risk, take the jump, man.”

As Clint speaks the bass of the song comes in.  Thump, crash, thump, crash.  Tony looks mortified as everyone else looks around in a state of shock.  The only people who seem to know exactly what’s been going on are Hill, Rhodey, and Natasha.  Each wearing different smirks.

“Have you got color in your cheeks?” you sing.  “Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the type that sticks around like summat in your teeth?”

“Are there some aces up your sleeve?  Have you no idea that you’re in deep?  I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week,” Clint sings, taking over from you.  You’re surprised by how well he can sing.

“How many secrets can you keep?” you both sing together.

“'cause there’s this tune I found, that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat.  Until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee,” Clint continues.

“Do I wanna know…” you sing.

“If these feelin’ flows both ways?” Clint continues.

“Sad to see you go.”

“Was sorta hoping that you’d stay.”

“Baby, we both know.”

“That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

Tony is staring at you both dumbfounded and you can’t read his expression at all.  You can’t stop now.  You’re going to get through this song and if Tony still doesn’t want any part of the relationship, well that would be on him.

“Crawling back to you,” you both sing.  “Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?  ‘Cause I always do. Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new, now I’ve thought it through.”

As you get through more verses of the Arctic Monkeys’ hit, Tony’s expression changes.  Rhodey comes and whispers something in his ear and Tony sighs and nods.  You and Clint won’t take your eyes off him.  This song is for him.  You want him back.

The last chords play out and while there’s confused clapping and everyone looks from Tony to the two of you and back again, Tony gets up and gestures to the stairs.

You and Clint follow after him, all eyes on you both, and end up on the catwalk just the three of you, looking down at the party below.  Even though no one can hear you, they can see you perfectly well.

“You guys just really went out there and blew up my shit, huh?” Tony says. He’s being sarcastic, but you can’t tell if it's sarcasm that says he doesn’t care, or that says he does.

“We love you, Tony,” you say.  “We want everyone to know.”

“And we know you love us, or you wouldn’t be ‘thinking about it.’  You’d have broken up with us,” Clint says.  “Take the leap.  If you don’t, you’ve ruined it, and that’s what you’re scared of doing… right?”

Tony sighs.  “God, you’re annoying.”

“You love it,” Clint says, putting his hand on Tony’s arm.  You reach out and take his hand but neither you nor Clint speak anymore as Tony seems lost in thought.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” Clint asks.

“Okay… you're right.  I do.  Both of you.  And I want it.  If you’ll have me,” Tony explains.

You both grin and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight three-way hug.  Tony buries his head in your neck and sighs happily.  Down below, everyone starts to applaud.  You hum and relax in their embrace.  You’re going to get to have it all.

~ END ~

[bajisbabe]

[author’s note] song slap hard ASF, song so good it pisses me off—🎼😡 y’all better listen to it, too

# ‘CAUSE I WANT YOU TOO

“If you say I’m on your mind, you gon’ need to spend more time to prove it.”

drunk-ex!baji comes to your home

warnings: kissing, drunk!Baji, arguing, Baji is kind of mean, cussing, Baji is 23 here, angst ig.

synopsis: Your ex, Baji, gets drunk and comes over. You try to turn him away because you’re afraid to admit that he wasn’t at fault for the breakup, but he doesn’t leave.

song: say it (mashup) by tory lanez and sevyn streeter

You hadn’t thought twice when opening the door. It was late in the night, and you just wanted to answer the door and get it over with; to stop the loud banging that just wouldn’t go away. You turn on the table lamp near the couch as you make your way into the living room. Tucking yourself into a robe, you turned the knob and opened the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you asked groggily, “Who is it—?”

Long hair, yellow eyes, and bruised knuckles with a hair tie around the wrist. Your ex, Baji Keisuke.

For a split second, you wondered what you should do. But without thinking it through, you clutched the door and attempted to slam it in his face. But he shoved his foot in the door, smiling lopsidedly at you as he pressed in further. He gradually worked his way into your home with ease.

You felt a strange sense of fear in your stomach. You hadn’t seen Baji in months after your breakup. Although he argued with you when you two broke up, he hadn’t bothered to contact you since. You thought he had moved on, but here he was. Stumbling into your living room and taking a seat on the couch, his head lolling as he let out an obnoxiously loud sigh.

You watched him for what felt like an entirety, subconsciously flinching whenever he made a move. You thought to call the police, but to get your phone you would have to make your way past him. And you didn’t have the guts to try.

He took a moment to glance around your apartment, looking somewhat confused. You vaguely remember having thrown out quite a few items when the two of you split, so your place must have looked different to him now.

He slowly turned his attention to you, his expression blank as his eyes raked over your face. He mumbled something under his breath as he took a swig from the beer bottle that you hadn’t noticed before. It was practically empty, as he shook the last couple of drops from it into his mouth. Your brows furrowed, you never knew Baji to be much of a drinker. He let out a burp, smiling at you when he finally noticed that you had been watching him the entire time.

“Miss me?” He said.

You slowly shook your head, backing up a couple steps. But there was nowhere to go. You were inches away from colliding with the front door. And you didn’t even think of running, knowing that he could easily catch up with you even in a drunken state.

“Baji,” you started firmly, trying your damnedest to remain cordial. “I think you should leave.”

“Oh, you think?” He spat, turning and twisting the bottle in his hand. Watching with vague interest how the dim light catches on the glass. “That’s funny.” He lets out a crude chuckle, glaring at you.

You merely stared back at him, not sure of what to say. You two didn’t end on good terms, that’s for sure.

“Did’ja think when you broke up with me for no—fucking—reason?” He punctuates each word with a tap of the butt of his beer bottle on the armrest of your couch. “Hmm, (Y/N)?”

“Baji, please.” You frowned, crossing your arms and trying to appear unafraid. But your hands are shaking like crazy. “You should just go—”

“S’not my name.” He mumbles. He looks at you again. But this time, there is no malicious glint in his eyes. He is merely looking at you and nothing more. Not glaring, or leering. Just looking. “You know that’s not m’name.”

“Yes, it is.” You say quietly. “That is your name. And now, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, please—”

“Just stop it.” He says. He stands slowly, noticing immediately the way your shoulders hunch and you put your hands up as though you expect him to attack. He frowns at the sight, sucking his teeth as he approaches you steadily. “You know that’s not my name. You know my name… just say it.”

His large hand comes up to cup your face, you pull away. Your fingers fidgeting as you hesitate, thinking that you should push him away. Not that he would budge even if you did.

“Please, (Y/N).” His voice is soft and low. And he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. You haven’t seen those eyes—and that look—in so damn long. “Please.”

“Baji, you need to leave.”

“That’s not my name and you know it.” There’s a subtle bite in his tone, but his eyes are still soft. “Now, could you please just say it?”

“Baji,” you breath, clasping your hands in a pathetic attempt not to lose your cool. “I’m asking you to leave—”

“M’not leavin’ ‘til you gimme what I want.” He reaches forward, much faster than you can comprehend. You sputter and grab hold of his wrists, trying to pull him off of you. But he doesn’t waver. His palms squeezing your cheeks, a subtle ache in your jaw at the sudden pressure. “Scratch that, I wanna kiss. Gimme a kiss.”

You try to pull back, but he merely follows you. His lips closing in on yours while you shake your head, eyes blown wide as you desperately yank his arms. “Stop it! Baji, stop it!”

You felt scared. You had never felt this way with Baji before. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of your mind, you were terrified that he would win you over yet again. That’s the last thing you wanted. You and him broke up because you became known as his girlfriend and nothing more. His personality and presence was so big that it completely swallowed yours.

You just wanted to be your own person. And he didn’t understand that then. You didn’t expect him to understand now either. So you never bothered to mention it, not even during the argument that ended your relationship.

You had left him without a spoken reason.

“S’Keisuke. Not Baji… You know that.” He says quietly, his lips a breath away from yours, your head still trapped between his calloused hands. “Kiss me. Do it now.”

“Get off of me,” you cry.

You should’ve run. You know you should’ve. You should’ve at least tried. But you didn’t. Your thoughts ran rampant, and you found that your own subconscious was ruthlessly blaming you for this situation. Thinking that you didn’t really want to break up with Baji, and that you just came up with a reason out of the blue. Baji was a good boyfriend, after all. But it was more so about how you felt like an accessory to him, rather than an equal.

He was just so important, and popular, and—just everything.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. You just needed some time to yourself to figure out who you were, and it ended up being months rather than a mere break. Now that you knew your worth, you didn’t have the guts to come back to him and tell him how you really felt. You didn’t have the guts to bring a genuine conclusion to it.

You had unknowingly hurt yourself by not voicing your opinion. And you didn’t know it yet, but you also hurt him just as much by ending your relationship without spoken reason. The more you thought about it, the sicker you felt. You just wanted him out of your home, so that you had a second to think before you made a decision you would regret.

“What’s your problem!” You shout, squirming in his grasp. “You’re drunk! Just go home!”

“Yeah?” He bites back. “Duh! And guess whose fault that is?”

You blink, your struggling momentarily halted. Whose fault…?

“S’yours, if you’re wondering.” His voice is quieter than before. His eyes are boring into yours. “I don’t drink—didn’t. Not ‘til…” He trails off, but you know what he’s getting at. And your heart shatters at the realization.

He notices your expression, it’s conflicted but he misunderstands. From his perspective, your blank stare is degrading; like you’re looking down on him. He doesn’t like that at all.

“Like you’re doing any better!” He says, eyes narrowing. “You’ve got problems too, I can see it!”

You don’t dare to speak, knowing that you might say something that’ll only make matters worse.

“You don’t think I saw that shit?” He says, glaring at you. He tugs you just a little closer and you feel your resolve crack some in return. “The way you flinched—like I was gonna hurt you or something. I wouldn’t do that, you know that!”

“Just stop it!” You rasp, your hands clutching his.

God, you don’t want to blurt out the real reason behind your breakup. After hearing the shit he’s put himself through, you don’t have the guts to tell him that it was nothing he did that caused the breakup.

Tears are brimming in your eyes as you stare back at his frowning face. “Stop it, Kei—”

There’s a moment of silence. So silent that your ears ring. He is no longer looking at you with that hard expression. His eyes are wide, brows raised, lips down-turned almost in a pout but not quite. “Kei?” He repeats quietly under his breath, eyes lingering on your face. He can feel your skin warm under his touch. And the brief sound of your name on his tongue has his heart beating hard. “Go on… Say it.”

“Don’t wanna,” your lips tug down, the backs of your eyes burning. You were gonna cry.

“Say it,” he releases his grip on your face. His hand comes up to wrap around the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing over your skin. He can even feel your pulse thrumming beneath the flesh. “Say it, and I’ll go… Promise.”

You don’t believe him and rightfully so. You shouldn’t believe him. And even still, you find his name rolling off your tongue. You think at the very least, you can give him that. After your breakup caused him so much hurt, and you still hadn’t given him a good reason.

“Again,” he whispers. His eyes never leave yours. “Say it again.”

“I can’t—”

“You can.” He presses, his grip tightening. You can feel him pulling you in; pulling you closer.

“Please, Baji—”

“You know my name.” He says, his voice lacking the strength from before. “S’only been a couple of months, you couldn’t have forgotten already.”

You see the sad look in his eyes and you break. Repeating his name just like he asked of you. And you don’t even get a chance to tell him the real reason behind your breakup as he places a chaste kiss on your lips.

Just one, then two, then three. Each longer than the last. And his grip is so strong that you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. But you don’t want to, and he knows it.

He pulls away slowly, his eyes racking over your face again. He looks at you like he’s afraid he’ll forget what you look like. Or that if he looks away, you’ll disappear.

And he knows he’s being selfish by asking you again and again. But he can’t stop himself, having not heard your voice in months. His teeth biting at his lower lip as he runs his tongue over the flesh, trying to remember your taste.

“Can you…” he pauses, knowing damn well that he’s being selfish and stringing you back in. He knows he’s gonna win you over. He just knows it because he knows you. And he just can’t bring himself to stop. “Can you say it...just one more time?”

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[majestyeverlasting]

hey, I absolutely love your writing!!!❤️

Can you maybe write a Bucky x reader with the fluffy prompt 31?

(the reader is afraid of something and she lashes out on Bucky... like she rambles on, and on to Bucky so that she runs out of breath... and Bucky forces her into a hug, which she eventually relaxes into and then tells her the promt)

If you can't write this, I'll totally understand... enjoy your day🌼🌼

♡ Hi! Thank you, I'm happy to hear that you like my writing! I love this request, and hope I was able to capture the essence of what you wanted. I know you've been waiting, so thanks for being patient! To summarize, the reader's doubts lead her and Bucky to explore the idea of what it means to add value to the world. That of course leads to some intimate dialogue and soft moments. Towards the end, I played around with an idea that relates to Bucky having enhanced senses, and I think it worked out pretty well. But I suppose that's up for you guys to decide. 🌼

♡ Prompt 31: “Shh, I can hear your heartbeat.”

What Comes Naturally

There was an abundance of memories to hold onto as summer began to bid farewell. Each of them sweet, and owning a small fraction of your heart. The days, once long, were beginning to grow shorter, and nature itself was slowing to the new rhythm of the atmopshere. It beautiful time of transition.

But a rather peculiar round of thoughts had started to cultivate within your mind. They were dense and somewhat dark, awaiting the moment in which they could release their rain.

Their accumulation had been on the basis of value. The value you were adding to the world, specifically; was it enough? Could you be working more, creating more? Did strangers walk away remembering you? Did you better the lives of those around you? There were as many doubts as there were questions. And they all seemed to have come out of nowhere, plaguing you suddenly.

It was an unfortunate headspace to have fallen into. All things considered, you should’ve been happy. Happier than you were, at least, because it was the dawn of your favorite season. Yet you’d woken up and found yourself wondering if you were doing enough.

That afternoon rolled around quickly. You were curled up on the couch when Bucky returned home from his routine run. He lifted his hand in a wave, to which you responded with a quiet hi. The earbuds you had in played a song that served as a feeble distraction from your worries. You watched as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, taking a few big gulps. He focussed on you as he drank.

Then he set the bottle on the kitchen island, and dabbed his mouth with the back of his hand. A furrow formed between his brows as sweat glistened above along his hairline. “You okay, doll?”

The question barely registered, but you read his lips. Before speaking, you paused the song. “Yeah, m’fine. Just relaxing”

You might as well have been glass with the way his gaze went through you. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go hop in the shower,” he said, running a hand through his hair. A brief moment of silence passed. “We’ll talk when I’m done, okay?” There was a knowing to his tone.

All you did was nod, gratefully.

A couple minutes after he left the kitchen, you ended up padding to the bedroom as well. Rather than bothering with another distraction, you simply laid on your back across the bed. You stared at the ceiling as the sound of running shower water emitted from the bathroom. And though it was faint, you could also hear the timbre of Bucky’s voice as he hummed a tune. You closed your eyes, finding solace in the fact that he was near, and willing to listen.

By the time he came out, you’d dozed off into a light sleep. As soon he gave your knee a few gentle squeezes, your eyes fluttered open. There was a small smile on his face as he looked down at you. Damp locks of his hair fell into his forehead, and a beige bath towel was wrapped around his waist. You sat up with a soft grunt, and he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before moving to get dressed. You caught of whiff of his cedar body wash in the process.

“Love you,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes.

“Love you too, pretty girl,” he said. “Wanna start telling me ‘bout what’s going on in that mind of yours?”

For a few seconds, all you did was look down at your socked feet and kick them. You heard a couple of dresser drawers open as Bucky saught out the clothes he was going to wear. “I feel like there’s something more I could be doing,” you finally said, turning to look at him. He’d tossed his towel onto the bed put on a pair of blue boxers.

“Something more?” He repeated as he pulled a black shirt over his head. “What do you mean?” His eyes met yours with genuine curiosity, wanting to understand.

You sighed, picking at the bed comforter. “The world is so big and people are out there doing so many different things, and it feels like I’m not doing nearly as enough. Like there are ways for me to step up that I’m not acknowledging,” you explained. “Like I’m missing the mark.”

Bucky put on a pair of sweat shorts before walking to take a seat beside you on the edge of the bed. He looked intently into your eyes. “What mark do you think you’re missing?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” you said, tone raising slightly. “There are people like you who go out and save the world, and do all of these crazy, larger than life things. People who have huge, innovative ideas that change entire industries. People who massive followings because they’re encouraging, or funny, and whatnot. And they all add so much to the world.”

Bucky thought about interjecting, but decided to let you continue. “It seems like I’m hardly doing anything. I at least try to leave a good impression on everyone I meet. And I try to extend the best of myself to the people I care about.” You turned your gaze from him, and directed it to the floor.

“But now there’s something’s telling me that I should be trying harder. And I don’t even know what that’s supposed to look like.” Bucky had began to run a comforting hand up and down your thigh. You released a harsh huff of air, not even realizing you’d been working yourself up. “I don’t even know where all of this is coming from. I just feel off, and...”

You fell silent when he wrapped his vibranium arm around your shoulders, and pulled you into him. Pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, his stubble brushing against your skin. There was warmth radiating from his body, and he smelled good. So good. You let your head tilt to rest on his shoulder, and looked down to where your knee was brushing against his. Suddenly, it seemed as though everything you’d previously said was immature and incomprehensible.

“I’m sorry,” you started. “Maybe I’m just being—”

“Shh,” he coaxed. Then he said something that caught you off guard, and took your mind off of everything else, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Wait, what?” You breathed. “No you can’t.” When Bucky chuckled, light and airy, you lifted your head. “Can you really?” Your voice was soft with a disbelieving edge.

“Yes,” he said, letting his arm slip from around you. “Lay down for a second.” You did, and he fell onto his back as well.

There the two of you were, chests rising with your breaths, looking up at the ceiling.

You waited for him to explain himself or say something else, but he didn’t for a while. The air was quiet long enough that you figured it was only a matter of time before you began to hear your own heartbeat, or possibly even his. You didn’t, of course, and Bucky eventually broke the ambience that had established itself.

“I can hear it,” he confirmed, turning to look at you. “But just barely ‘cause it’s not as strong now.”

“Because I’ve calmed down?” He hummed in agreement. You studied his handsome features and began to smile. "I didn’t know could do that,” you told him. “I mean, I knew your hearing was good, but to be able to hear a heart beating is… cool.”

“Yeah. I just have to be close enough and focus extremely hard,” he explained. “And you wanna know what I have to say about adding value to the world?”

You’d almost forgotten about what you expressed to him in the moments prior. Almost. “What?”

He propped himself up on his metal arm, and placed his flesh one on your chest over your heart. He could feel the gentle thump against his palm. “This, right here, is all you need to know that you’re adding value; the fact that you’re alive,” he said, smiling when you placed your hands overtop of his. “Everyday you’re adding value in a way only you can. Even if it’s not always through some big and over the top demonstration.

“Just be and do what comes naturally. One day that might be saving a city, another day that may be making somebody laugh. Who’s to say they aren’t equally important in the end? They both effect how the future plays out, right?” He quirked his brows.

It was moments like that when you realized just how much of life he'd lived and how much wisdom he'd earned over the years. Even if you had've racked your brain, you wouldn't have found anything capable of standing up against his words. You took his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“Right.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! Consider sticking around for more. <3

[crispyimagines17]

“Maria Bonita” - [ Timothée Chalamet  | One Shot ]

Summary: We invite you to take a glimpse to the Chalamet’s house. A teenage parents who would do anything to protect, love and take care of their little one despite all the eyes of society. 

Written by: Crispy Imagines.

Soundtrack: main theme

Notes: A promise is a promise ppl, after two years of waiting Maria Bonita is finally here. First of all I want to thank every single person who was asking for this masterpiece, I hope i don’t let you down. Feedback is always welcome and nothing, enjoy it cause y’all deserve it.  Also, we attach several audios to make you feel part of the story, so contrast them just as a background sound. 

Tags: @miss2001babe ; @lg-vangogh ; @expectodonuts ; 

[1]

The creaking of the bed came to a halt as your two-year-old Maddox weigh crashes down the mattress; his tiny feet pressed on daddy’s back, sending a burst of chills down Timothée’s spine. Maddox hands traveled to mommy’s cheeks, pitching or stretching them as he let out a chuckle.

“Mommy?” he whines, kissing your cheeks softly “Mommy” he repeats, nuzzling his face on yours.

“What’s up champ?” Timothée speaks, his groggy voice echoing the room as he stretches his body.

“Daddy!” the little one leaves you and jumps all the way to Timothée.

“Good morning.”

“morning.” Maddox repeats.

You opened your eyes, and the first picture your eyes capture was little Maddox hugging tightly his daddy with a Woody on his right hand. When he saw you, you could see his eyes glowing and leaving daddy’s side just so he can be with you. Immediately you open your arms, letting his tiny weigh crash on yours as he looks at you with pure happiness.

“Hi mommy”

“Hi momma.” You hear Timothée’s voice as you rolled your eyes. He slowly approaches to you two, snugging and earning laughs from both of you. “How’s my family?”

“We’re fine. You need to get Maddox a shower bef-…”

“Noo…” the little kid as soon as he heard shower leaves the bed in such a hurry, leaving his favorite toy in bed. Both of you laughed.

“I’ll make some breakfast and I want you ready by the time I’ll call you.”

“Yes momma.” Timothée gets up from bed and before leaving the room he approaches to give you a tiny peck, then a kiss and later a passionate kiss; grabbing towels from the drawer.

“Come here little man, before I’ll catch you.” You could hear Maddox giggles all over the apartment and timmy’s footsteps running around.

…

“Come on bub, we’re late for school. Just put some damn clothes.” Timothée’s voice came out as desperation as Maddox was running in circles butt naked. He tried everything, baby shark song, let Woody shower with him and even doing some funny voices, but none of them work. He sighs, face palming as he listens to the little one singing “You’ve got a friend in me”.

“Love.” He speaks. “Can you help me with Maddox?”

“Sure, just watch the scramble eggs.” He sighs in relief, and lifting himself from the wet floor walking carefully. When he clashes glazes with his son, he mumbles him

“You’re going to get in big trouble, mommy is coming.” Maddox smile fades and the fear got in his eyes, so he quickly runs to his bedroom bringing the first piece of clothing he found.

…

“Dammit.” You whispered as you tried to adjust the child seat. Timothée was right behind you, holding Maddox; both of them watching you getting pissed.

“Let me try, love. Here, hold Maddox.” You sigh, extending your arms as little Maddox lunges towards you. You lay your head against his, as you rock yourself back and forth. “we’re ready.”

Today was going to be a long day due to your shift, leaving early sounds nice, but also means going to the grocery store, doing laundry, cleaning the house, teaching Maddox, do some paperwork. Although timothée helps you in every way he can there’s still more job to do, like you’re working nonstop all the year. As you drive towards Maddox daycare Timothées hands were on your thing, resting peacefully as he slowly reads some scripts.

“Shit” he mumbles, you looked at him with an arched eyebrow. He realizes his mistake and quickly covers his mouth and watches Maddox, who’s been gazing at the window without a clue of what happened. Timothée let out a sigh as he slowly began to read his duties when the little one laugh.

“Shet” Maddox said giggling as he smashes his toys. Both of you close your eyes in regret, he will now say the word to nonstop and the ladies from the daycare will complain, like always.

“Oh no.” you let out “Maddox, honey.”

“Wa mommy?”

“Remember when we said that kids shouldn’t say big words?” he nods. “You need to stop saying that, it’s rude and people will not like it.”

“Shet.” He repeats giggling.

“Love, say something to your child” you said looking at Timothée.

“Me? Why?”

“Cause you said the big word.” You insist.

“Why I’m always the bad guy…” he whispers as he take a breath. “Bub, what do we talk…”

“shet shet shet shet!” Maddox said out loud causing both parents to sigh.

“Well, we tried” Timothee said as you parked at the daycare.

[2]                                 

Picking up Maddox from daycare was the heavy stuff of the day, receiving each and every day complaints from the teachers about his hyperactivity, molesting other kids or yelling in story time. Today was not the exception, despite the look of irritation from the teacher you were calm and hugging a tired Maddox rocking back and forth.

“Maddox is… a special kid. His behavior today concerned the other teachers due to the fact that the child said the word shit many times. That cause the other kids to follow him and my job here is to ask you, Is everything okay with your… boyfriend and you?” you arched your eyebrows surprised.

“Y-yeah, we’re fine, Maddox is like a sponge absorbs everything, including the bad stuff.” You chuckle nervously.  She shakes her head.

“Kids at your age don’t know how to raise a child, it surprises me that you’re still together and with Maddox temper…” you were in shocked, does she tell you that? And in front of your kid? Oh, you’re so mad you’ve couldn’t hold your tongue.

“Believe me that my kid is surrounded by love and emotional stability lady, you have no right to judge me or my husband. We’ve been swallowing some bullshit since I was pregnant, but I will not tolerate to insult me in front of my kid. So, fuck yourself and your stupid business.” You raised your middle finger and walk towards the exit without looking back.

After you put Maddox in his chair, he looked at you in a lovely way, touching both of your cheeks and smiling.

“Love you mommy.” Your eyes watered as you kiss him on his forehead.

“Love you too.”

…

Going to the grocery store was Maddox favorite thing; the thrill of daddy pushing the car so fast; when mommy buys his favorite cereal and the music that always calms him. So when you said your next destination a chorus of happiness filled the entire car.

“Okay, we’re supposed to get the basic. Love, get a car and I’ll see you on the aisle 2.” You grab Maddox hand but he didn’t walk. “What happened?”

“Daddy.” He points with his little finger towards Timothée direction.

“Daddy will come soon. Come on, let’s go.” But Maddox stayed, making his little body heavier so you couldn’t walk.

“Daddy.” He repeats.

“Love he will come back, let’s go.” You tried once more, but he let himself fall on the floor, starting a tantrum that led all the eyes of the store on you two. You smiled awkwardly picking up Maddox as you tried your best to avoid the judge of the people’s eyes, walking down the first hall as you let him down with tearful eyes.

“Maddox, honey, you need to listen to me.” You cup his cheeks in an attempt to catch his attention. After he saw you his concern became evident.

“wa hapen?”

“Here you are, I thought you said aisle 2.” After he saw your eyes, his smile faded and he kneels with you two. “What’s wrong, baby?” you shake your head.

“Nothing, I just-“ you immediately tried to recover yourself and got up wiping your eyes. “We need to hurry up, we still have to make dinner.” You grab the car. “Love, please take Maddox with you.”

And so were you grabbing everything you need and both of your boys were trying hard to cheer you up by singing or listening to Timothee saying stuff like “Mom looks pretty today, isn’t she?” “We’ll make dinner so you can take a rest”

You were in line ready to pay and behind you there was a nice lady pampering Maddox. Timothee smile to her.

“Taking care of the little brother, huh.” She said waving at him. “what a handsome man.”  You both look at each other without saying anything. It was normal that many people believed one of you was babysitting a younger sibling or a cousin so you didn’t bother to correct the lady.

“Mommy sleep.” Maddox said, looking at you with tired eyes. Your eyes immediately watch the lady who was quite skeptical. “Mommy.”

“Oh” she only said. Your eyes travel to her, you’ve could see her disappointment on her face, it was something you’ve got used to it. You tried to recover yourself, this was too much for one day and it hasn’t ended yet.

“Love, can you pay? I’ll have to take some air.” Timothee’s eyes were concerned.

“Sure love, here, take the keys. Maddox will stay with me.” You grab the keys and exit the store as soon as you can, fighting hard to keep the tears from falling.  

When you get into your car you let yourself go, tears streaming down your face and allowing yourself to feel this way.

The migraine you’ve been dealing with was in its best moment, due to Maddox screams and the tv in all the volume it has. Timothee was in the bedroom with a script; he left you with all the toys, crayons and food on the floor. You sigh, frustrated and just when you were calming yourself you saw Maddox torn one of Timothee’s scripts and laughing. Timothee was behind him with a red face, taking him the pieces of paper to look directly at you.

“Seriously? Are you not watching this kid?” after those words your blood began to boil, throwing him the nearest object.

“Are you fucking serious? I fucking make dinner because you “innocently” forgot, I’m doing laundry so you can go to your fucking auditions clean; I’m washing dishes cause you’re so busy reading your stupid scripts and you can’t watch Maddox. And you’re implicating that it’s my fault that I don’t watch our kid? Unbelievable.” You said furious. “I don’t fucking have a break, I work my 8hr shift, pick up Maddox; do all the chores; helping Maddox with his homework; shower him, giving him dinner; make us dinner; shower myself if I have time; and checking some paperwork. You’re… You’re just auditioning, promising that one day we’ll be in a mansion and lived happily ever after, you do not do anything unless I asked you for.” He was shocked, avoiding all eye contact with you.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” You sigh, leaving the kitchen, taking one of your coats and leaving the apartment.

…

You could hear Timothee’s footsteps behind you, but you just keep on walking, breathing deeply so you can’t say something you regret.

“Wait, love.” He tried to grab you softly by the arm.

“So now I’m your love, huh?” you rolled your eyes, stopping yourself to look him in the eye.

“You’ve always been my love. Sorry for behaving like an asshole. You were right, I’m a completely shitty father. I leave you with all the heavy duty while I focus on a stupid dream.” You could see the sadness of his face, eyes beginning to water. Immediately you cupped his cheeks and touched your forehead with his, staying in silence for a couple of seconds.

“You know I’m the biggest supporter of your dream.” You said in a whisper. “But you have to be a responsible father and husband. We are a team; we’re supposed to help each other in every way we can. I’m not asking to give up on what you are passionate about.” you sweetly pressed your lips against his.

“I love you.” He said, with eyes pure of love that your stomach curled up.

“I love you too, handsome.” You stayed hug for a while, while you feel like there was something missing. It was Maddox!

“Oh my god… where’s the kid?” you lift the head to catch his eyes.

“I left it with Maddie, I think we should pick him up before she calls us.” You nod.

An so where you, walking back home holding hands having the warm sensation that everything from now on will be just fine.

 [Soundrack] [3]     

The sound of nature calms both of your boys, you suggest to travel to the nearest park to set up some wood fire. And now you are carrying Maddox tired body, the little one is closing his eyes so often, and it will not take too long for him to sleep; since he’s got his thump already in his mouth. Timothée was watching the stars, with a sad tone on his face he said:

“Sometimes I forget that I’m a dad. When they invite at some restaurant for brief seconds I forget that I’m someone’s dad, that I change diapers or fed him. And that feels weird, not good weird, like something is missing. I’ll never going to regret being a father at my age, I will have a long way to watch him grow and become anything he wants; and somehow that makes me happy.”

“I don’t regret either. I feel that this kid connects us in beautiful ways; we are his mentors to teach him the good and bad. I think we’re more than ready to take the challenge.”

“I love you. And I’m so happy I chose you to be the mother of my child, even if that means by accident.” You couldn´t help but laugh.

“I love you too. Come on, let’s go to our house.”

“At least let us heard one more song before we go.” Timothee got up shaking the dirt from his pants, he went to the car and shuffle a couple of songs before he found out the one. “This one will work. Let me get Maddox on the car.”

After he let the baby he slowly approaches to you, touching his forehead with yours, rocking back and forth as Maria Bonita was playing on the back.

“Even if this song is made for a Maria. In this park, at midnight with the stars and moon as witnesses you’re my Maria Bonita. The one I will always be in love, beyond my body and soul. I’m all yours baby. Just say the word and we will go to the nearest chapel.”  You smile.  

“Yes.” You whispered on his lips

“Promised me that you don’t lie just because you feel idolized.” You kissed him. “I love you Mrs. Chalamet. Let the world know I Love this woman.” You shake your head, chuckling, the song ended and to seal the promise he kissed you passionately taking from his coat a jewelry box; knealing.

“Will you marry me?”

[h2bakugou]

heloooo i really love your hcs and allll teeheeeee <3 . I was wondering if you could do bakugou , kirishima , tamaki ( you could ignore 1 if you want~) reacting to you singing and humming while being on your phone seeing memes and all! y/n sings (any song you would like to mention) tysmsmsmsm

a/n: hii!! awe tysm! ooo this is really cute <3 giving me the opportunity to pick a song- sfjsfjgsf i’m sorry-

headcanon: them reacting to their s/o singing while being on their phone

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

The two of you are just chilling in his dorm after studying.

He’s on his phone, and you’re on yours, the two of you just kinda enjoying one another’s presence.

You’re sitting on his bed wrapped up in his blanket, which he forcefully throws at you every time you sit on his bed because he wants it to smell like you when you leave ‘cause it helps him sleep.

The two of you are usually quiet, making small talk here and there, showing one another a funny video or something you really like.

But Bakugou’s pulled away when he hears you humming a song.

At first, his thought is ‘oh they’re just kinda bored.’ but as you continue, you start singing.

“Don’t you, forget about me.” You sing quietly, mumbling the lyrics absentmindedly as the song had been stuck in your head after watching The Breakfast Club with Sero and Mina.

And while you're singing, Bakugou is just listening, smiling. All the can really think is that it’s kind of adorable how you’re just browsing through social media and humming a tune.

“As you walk on by, will you call my name?” You’re swinging your foot that hangs over the side of his bed to the beat of the song. 

“As you walk on by, will you call my name?” Bakugou repeats, earning your attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I wasn’t bugging you was I-” You feel your cheeks burn as the realization sets in. Bakugou shakes his head and stands up, joining you on his bed.

“You’re fine, dumbass.” Bakugou pressed a kiss to your cheek, sighing as he laid his head in your lap.

“Continue.” He said quietly, closing his eyes.

Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

You’ve just finished watching a movie and now you’re scrolling through social media, winding down for the night.

Kirishima lays with his head in your lap while you run a hand through his crimson locks, the two of you making small talk.

Every so often you’d flip your phone so Kirishima could read the funny meme or watch the funny video that made you snort from laughing so hard.

But as you continued to scroll, you began to hum a tune. Kirishima listened quietly as you did, smiling from his spot in your lap.

He tried to place what song you were humming as you did so, confused by what on Earth you were humming, wishing you’d just sing it already.

And sing it you did. It was quiet, you were just barely mumbling the lyrics, probably unaware that Kirishima could actually hear you.

“You look so perfect standing there, in my American Apparel underwear.” You sang softly, tapping your fingers against the side of your phone to the beat of the song.

“Your lipstick stain is a work of art, I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart, and I know now, that I’m so down.”

Kirishima reached up, sliding your phone over out of the way, sharp teeth gleaming at you.

“You’re so cute.” Kirishima complimented, using his index finger to press the tip of your nose. You shook your head and giggled.

“Sorry, the song’s been stuck in my head since it came on shuffle like Monday.” You giggled, looking down at your boyfriend.

“That’s like our theme song.” Kirishima commented, sitting up and turning toward you.

“’Cause I know now, that I’m so down.” Kirishima leaned in a pressed a kiss to your lips, smiling as you kissed him back.

She Looks So Perfect by 5 Seconds of Summer

»»————-　★　————-««

tamaki amajiki

»»————-　★　————-««

You’re out on a picnic, and you’re just chatting, showing one another things you’ve found on social media, funny posts, and videos.

Tamaki’s just admiring as you sift through a folder of memes, trying to find things to show him.

You start out by humming a tune which quickly catches Tamaki’s attention. You’re already so gorgeous, so amazing, even more so, your voice is angelic and he’s just mesmerized by you.

The way you start to sort of nod your head back and forth as you begin to sing proves his point even further that you are quite literally the cutest.

“I get so lost inside your eyes, would you believe it?” You sang softly. Tamaki’s ears perked up.

“You don’t have to say you love me, you don’t have to say nothing. You don’t have to say you’re mine. Honey I, walk through fire for you, just let me adore you.”

Your voice was so soft, and Tamaki could just barely hear you, smiling to himself as you sang.

“Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do.” You continued.

“So cute.” Tamaki whispered, leaning in closer to hear you.

“Oh sorry! I lost focus-” You’re quickly hushed by a pair of soft lips on yours followed by a blushing Tamaki as he pulls away from you.

“it’s fine!” Tamaki reassures you quietly.

“Can you keep singing? It’s really pretty.” Tamaki mumbles as he scoots closer to you, resting his head on his knees.

“Of course.” You smile.

Adore You by Harry Styles

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[officialsporkintheroad]

here’s a prompt :) — tom and hermione dance at the yule ball. tom comes to terms w/ his feelings for hermione but does not confess right away. the next morning, she is gone (she went back to her own timeline). he wants to find answers.

(A/N: I know it's been literally months, but I finally got around to this prompt and I had so much fun writing a little snippet for it. Hope you like it, love, and thank you so much for sending in the prompt <3 )

warnings: brief violent/murderous thoughts, toxic relationships, possessive behavior, Tom being a little bit of a creep in general

The whole ordeal is tedious.

All parties, in Tom’s opinion, possess a certain dullness that seems utterly inescapable once you reach a certain point in society, and while the Yule Ball is a school function—and therefore not quite on the same level as, say, the Malfoy’s annual Yule party or even Slughorn’s more exclusive events—it’s still burdened by the same rules of propriety and small talk that Tom loathes.

Therefore, tedious.

Made worse, still, by the fact that Hermione Granger is floating around the dancefloor in a pale blue, satin gown that flatters her lithe body and delicate curves, her riotous hair half-pinned up, pearls peeking out between the wild curls. In the silvery atmospheric lighting, she looks ethereal, an otherworldliness that suits her bizarre personality. She is not the most graceful dancer nor the most practiced, but there’s always a confidence to Hermione that seems almost daring, as if to say, “My faults are irrelevant in the face of my accomplishments.”

And she is accomplished, Tom will admit that now. Four months of watching her breeze through classes, mastering spells on the first try and giving him a run for his money with her theory work. He has seen her do things that he had previously only thought himself capable of, has watched her match him wit for wit, barb for barb.

She is the only woman—the only person—that comes even close to being his equal, and yes, he had resisted that at first, but now…

But now, he can’t stand the thought of her dancing with anyone but him.

His feet are moving before he’s even really finished the thought, slipping through the crowd of dancing couples with ease as he makes his way to her. She sees him, of course, because no matter how hard Tom has tried, it seems like Hermione always sees him—or more specifically, sees through him. Her eyes—caramel brown, thick lashes, wary and angry and curious all at once—narrow, but she doesn’t stop him when he taps on the shoulder of her current partner and asks to cut in.

The boy pales a bit, throws Hermione an apologetic smile, and bows out. It’s nice, Tom thinks, how even now, with few knowing even half of what he’s truly capable of, there’s still an understanding that when Tom Riddle asks for something, he’s not really asking.

“You’ve given poor Adrian a heart attack,” Hermione comments idly, casually, like it’s just an observation and she couldn’t care less. He isn’t fooled into a false sense of security—they have been playing this back-and-forth for months now, and he knows her anger is always ready, always burning just beneath the surface—but admittedly, he enjoys it too much to ever back down.

“Perhaps you should have acquired a date that doesn’t startle so easily,” he muses, enjoying the subtle twitch of her jaw.

“Perhaps you should learn to wait until the next song to ask for a dance. I hear patience is a virtue.”

It burns, a little, that she’s right. He could have waited for the song to end, waited to approach her during the lull in music. It would have caused less of a scene, certainly. Would have seemed more gentlemanly, less…desperate.

But then, it hadn’t really been a conscious choice in the first place.

“And you could have refused,” he tosses back, because he’s petty and it’s true anyway.

The pause that follows is one that Tom doesn’t expect. What he expects is for her to push back, snarl some insult about Tom being childish and greedy, or snark that she could never dare to refuse the great Tom Riddle—all said with the heaviest, driest sarcasm he’s ever heard in his life. Instead, she sighs.

“I’m tired of fighting useless battles,” she says, and there’s something so bitter and sad and…and tired in her voice that it makes him stare. Because she’s definitely not just talking about the dance he stole from her.

Because maybe… Maybe, despite all the anger and derision and sheer viciousness that has tainted their every interaction since she arrived the beginning of September, maybe she, too, feels that he has worn her down in the way that she has done with him.

It is not love—Tom is absolutely certain of that—but it is something startlingly closer to it than Tom ever imagined he’d feel: a sort of raw possessiveness over her that pisses him off nearly as much as it gratifies him, an understanding that she is likely the only person alive that could ever satisfy him on an intellectual level, and the only person he has ever wanted like this, even if he’s half tempted some days to strangle her and throw her carcass down in the Chamber so no one finds the body.

It is strangely compelling that he can see hints of that same violent and conflicting desire in her.

When the song ends, she disappears into the crowd and Tom lets her go. After all, he doesn’t need to chase after something that is already halfway his.

*****************************************

Hermione is not at breakfast. She is not part of the group of students that Tom escorts to the train platform, and she is not at lunch when he returns. He asks the Ravenclaw 5th year prefect if he’s seen her, checks in at the Hospital Wing, and finally ends up at the library—where, truthfully, he really expects her to be.

The library is empty.

Almost.

“She’s not here,” a voice says, and Tom stiffens at the sound, an automatic response he can’t control no matter how he tries.

Dumbledore, always poking his nose in where it’s not wanted.

“Sir?”

“Miss Granger left this morning.”

Tom frowns, because he knows she didn’t get on the train, and the deputy headmaster must realize this because he sighs.

“She returned home, Tom.”

“Home,” he repeats flatly, because Dumbledore is lying. He’s sure of it.

Because Hermione doesn’t have a home to go back to. She told him as much—parents dead, all her distant family either deceased or estranged, and even if she could get in touch with them, none of them wanted to take in a war orphan. She was alone and lost when she came to Hogwarts. She can’t have gone home, because Hogwarts is home. For her, and for him.

“Miss Granger was only here on a temporary basis, Tom. You know that,” Dumbledore is saying. “Arrangements have been made with her mother’s cousins in America…”

That’s around the time Tom stops listening. It’s all bullshit, every word. It’s funny. As much as Dumbledore has always managed to know when Tom’s up to something, it goes both ways. It always has.

“I see,” Tom says eventually. “I…am sorry I wasn’t there to wish her off. We had been getting on better these past few weeks. You don’t happen to have an address for her, do you? I’d like to write her, if I can.”

“Ah, unfortunately not, my boy. Her relatives are travelling people, I believe.”

They both know they’re both lying. Neither of them blinks.

“I see,” he says again. “Well, thank you for informing me, professor. I’ll be off to dinner now, though.”

Dumbledore watches him with undisguised suspicion for a good minute before smiling. “Of course, Tom. It’s shepherd’s pie tonight. You certainly wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Tom holds his calm, impersonally polite smile through dinner, relieved that at least most of his peers in Slytherin have gone home for the holidays so he’s not subjected to their inane chatter. He keeps it in place through evening rounds, through his nightly routine. It’s only later, having sneaked down to the Chamber a little after midnight, that he lets the façade crack, firing off spells at the wall with a vicious, raging anger while he shouts his frustration.

Impulsive and erratic as it is, it does make him feel better. Steadier. Clearer.

He’s Tom Riddle, he reminds himself: prodigiously talented, sharp and clever and determined, the brightest mind of the century. And then he smiles.

There’s nowhere Dumbledore can hide her that Tom can’t find.

send me prompts if you want <3

[all-about-kyu]

hey mia! I hope you're doing well ✨ and if you're not or if you are, I send you my hugs from here to there <3

for the plant ask game → bamboo, mahonia, chamomile, papyrus, and taro

signing off with love,

- ash

Ash baby!!! how have you been?? I'm okay but hugs are always accepted here <3

I answered bamboo here

Mahonia: What place, thing, or activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

Hmmm there's a few for those, for places it would probably be my backyard on a nice sunny day with a good breeze, it's the best for writing and composing for me. for things it's my crystals, their energy gives me a lot of inspiration like when I'm writing angst I choose the crystals that associate most with emotional clarity/honesty and for fluff, I do a lot of the crystals associated with happiness/love. for activities I think it's daydreaming/napping oddly enough... most of my fics were at one point my daydreams/actual dreams and when I wake up I immediately write them down so I don't forget them later.

Chamomile: What were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

When I was younger I wasn't much different than I am now, I've always been very mature for my age and a very eloquent speaker/writer. I think the biggest change since I was younger is that I have more life experience now (obviously) and I use that experience to help others more than myself.

Papyrus: If you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

Okay I literally did it with my "favs" playlist and the first song was Alien by Pentagon I think what I like the most about it is that it's just a fun song!! It's not too complex or too simply it's just an easy song to listen to (and Wooseok's weird scream saying "have a good night's stay" cause it's just funny to me) I associate it mostly with just relaxing or a mid-summer drive during the afternoon cause it often plays while I'm on my way back to work.

Taro: If someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?

It depends on the person! If it's a family member it'll probably be about how I've been (I'm still sick 2 weeks later) and if I'm ready for uni to start again. If it's a friend who knows cause as we all know me and my friends are a little chaotic and all over the place

choose a plant and get to know me!!

[bicycle4two]

say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 3

Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader

Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname

C.1 || C.2

Chapter Three:

There’s a memory that haunts you from when you were young. It’s always there at the back of your mind, coming up at the most inconvenient of times. Well, it’s not like there is a convenient time for you to remember such a thing but sometimes it catches you when you’re at a really bad place.

Sometimes you remember it when you have one who hides their phones for more reasons than just “privacy,” one who only takes you out when there’s no one around who knows the two of you, one who disappears without a trace only to come back with flowers and excuses, the smell of another woman’s perfume on their clothes.

Sometimes you remember it when there’s nothing for you to worry about, like now, when you’re under Sam, his weight more comforting than suffocating, trying to catch your breath after a mind shattering orgasm. Your ceiling, something that’s never been impressive before, has your full attention as you try to gather yourself, lure your soul back into your body.

“I-I think. I think I lost my vision for a second there,” you breathe out, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“You flatter me, princess.”

“What was that? I can’t hear either,” you push your hair away from your face. It’s damp with sweat. You’re going to need another shower. “I think I entered another dimension. I think I saw God.”

Sam pushes himself off of you and kisses you gently on the lips. You’d think he was asking for another round if he wasn’t as tired as you. “Not God,” he says, voice deep. He’s caught his breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady. It’s kind of funny that a smoker can recover faster than you. “Just me.”

And it’s the word “just” that sticks to you, that repeats itself over and over in your head, that brings forth the memory that you’ve desperately try to keep at the back of your mind, locked up and buried. It’s the memory of a phone screen, a chat with a coded name, pictures of a woman you don’t know. A woman who isn’t your mother that your father messages, saves pictures of.

You were young when you found out, much younger than you are now, and although deep down, you knew, you’ve always known your father was a man who could not be trusted, a man who had straying eyes, long trips with women he called friends, you were hurt. Betrayed. Because you always thought that things like this only happened on TV, in books, to friends and classmates.

But not you.

And yet, here you are, in bed with a man who hides his phone, disappears for long periods of times, and has a history you don’t even know where to begin to look into. A man who acts so much like the ones before, only sweeter, gentler, but still suspicious.

And you’ve been hurt by men like him before and you don’t know if you can take another blow. Not from someone like Sam.

So, you push away the memory and say, “Just you and,” And you hesitate for a second, find the courage somewhere deep inside you to ask, to finally ask, “And it’s just me, right?”

“You scared me for a second,” Sam lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding and you realize that you had paused at the wrong word, the double meaning. You offer him a small smile, an apology. “Yes, it’s just you.” He confirms and you feel yourself relax, only away now of how tense you were.

“Good,” you say, looking back up at your ceiling. “That’s good. I, uh, I wasn’t sure.”

“This has been bothering you?” Sam gets off of you and you instinctively cover yourself with a pillow as Sam has your blanket thrown over his waist. You never thought you’d have this conversation with him. You never thought you’d get to ask one of your questions and actually get an answer. You wish that you had clothes on for this.

“A bit,” you say. “I know we aren’t, well, a thing, but when I saw you with your sister-in-law and when I didn’t know she was your sister-in-law, I have to say, I panicked.”

“You thought I was cheating on you?” Sam lets out a chuckle like the thought of it is absurd but he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know what went through your mind that day in the café.

“I thought you were cheating on her. I’m not really a fan of being the other woman.”

Sam winces and you can see that there’s something he wants to ask but doesn’t know if he should. Huh. You wonder if you’re that easy to read.

“From experience,” you end up saying anyway, just because you know how it feels to have your questions answered. “It would be nice, I think, if we’re clear on some things. Be on the same page, you know?”

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend.” Sam looks at you straight in the eye, like this is important, that if you don’t get this then that’s that. And you do get it because for all the things you don’t know about Sam, you can at least say you knew this.

“I know. I can’t say I’d be a good one anyway.” You know you can’t base your worth on past relationships but sometimes you can’t help but think that there was something you lacked, that you came up short somewhere, that made the relationships turn sour. Psychopaths and unfaithful husbands aside. “But we aren’t exactly a one-night stand anymore.”

Sam rubs the back of his neck and the action causes you to look at his tattoos, the familiar sight of birds in flight. Tim had mentioned them that day in the café, said something about prison tattoos, and you’d just rolled your eyes at him. But then you think about the scars and gunshot wounds and you can’t exactly say that Sam lives a normal, danger-free life.

“So, what do you want, princess?” Sam asks, reaching down to pick up his shirt. It seems like his clothes weren’t flung too far from the bed. You can see your pants by your bedroom door. “Cuz I don’t know what I can give ya.”

“Well,” you play with the ends of your pillow case just so you have something to do with your hands. There are so many things you want. Answers, for one thing. That’s number one. But Sam looks tired and you sort of feel guilty for springing this on him. Because, again, this isn’t a normal relationship. He doesn’t owe you anything and if you ask for more than he can give, well, this just isn’t going to work.

And you want this to work. You can’t deny yourself that truth. You want whatever it is Sam can give you. So, you say, “It wouldn’t hurt if you’d give me a heads up before you leave for God knows where. It’s not fun thinking you’ve gotten tired of me and just disappeared off of the face of the earth.”

Sam lets out a breath you don’t think he realized he was holding. “A call, I can do that.”

“You can even just text me. Email. I don’t have a pager but if that’s how you work…”

“I’m not that old, princess,” Sam rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll call you. I promise.”

And it’s the word “promise” that sticks to you, that repeats itself over and over in your head, that brings a smile to your face.

 ...

It’s the same old song and dance and you swear you’d give up your left kidney for the tune to change, for the choreography to switch up, because Tim’s on your case again and you’re getting really close to filing a request that you two don’t share the next few shifts together.

(But then Agatha would be questioning you as well and you’re sure that half the questions Tim asks are echoes of Agatha’s and she’s honestly the harder of the two to deal with. So, damnit, you’re going to have to suck it up. Deal with the kid.)

“Is this really the kind of relationship you want to have?” Tim asks, leaning against his broom for support. The café’s closed for the day and the two of you are in charge of cleaning and inventory. Agatha’s in the back, balancing the day’s earnings. 

“This again, Tim?” You glare at the stain on the table your wiping, spraying it once more before scrubbing the surface harder. You’re not going to lie, you’re picturing Tim’s face, attacking your imagination instead of the person. Even if it’s tempting, oh so tempting.

“It’s just weird that he just goes off unannounced and doesn’t come back for weeks.”

“Ever heard of a business trip?” The table is shaking from your force, the surface almost like a mirror from how shiny it’s getting.

Tim scoffs. “I’ve seen your boyfriend—”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“—And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a nine to five office job.” Tim goes back to sweeping even though the floor is clean. He really should get the mop but he hates handling it. “Also, daddy kink? Didn’t think you were the type.”

“Oh my God. It’s not like that!” You groan, throwing your dirty rag at him. Tim yelps when it hits him on the back. Honestly, he should have seen it coming. “And we’ve talked, okay? Ages ago. He doesn’t leave without warning anymore.”

“The bar is really low.”

“Shut up, Tim.” Your phone is ringing, saving you from this conversation and punching your co-worker in the face. “Hello?” You say once you answer your phone, smiling. It’s Sam.

“Hi, princess,” Sam grunts out and you frown at his tone.

“Hi, uh, are you okay?”

Tim is looking at you now, blatantly listening in, and you turn your back to him, facing the painting on the wall. You never really understood this piece, but Agatha likes it.

“Yeah. I’m great! Just—wait a second.” You hear Sam suck in a breath and all of a sudden there’re gunshots. You jump in surprise, shoulders rising, tense, and you have to pull your phone away from your ear from the sheer volume of it. “Okay. I’m back.”

“Sam. Please tell me you’re playing a video game.”

“Huh? Yeah, sure, if that makes you feel better. Wait.” You hear the crunch of gravel, quick and quiet footsteps, and then the sound of surprise before a crack and thud. “Sorry. Anyway, so I have a problem.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what it is.”

“It’s nothing bad. I promise,” his voice is quiet now. Like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear him. “Y’see. I told you about my job, right?”

“I mean, all you said was you were going to…I want to say Japan. You were in India last time.”

“Yeah! Beautiful country, by the way. We should go next time.” Sam says in one breath and you feel your heart skip a beat. A trip? With Sam? “If I don’t get banned from the place. Which would be a shame, really, cuz the food’s great—hang on.”

There’re gunshots again and then running. You don’t realize that you’re outside the café until a strong wind blows by. You had walked out the door when it seemed like this wasn’t going to be a normal check in. Which was almost immediately, to be frank. From the corner of your eye, you see Tim watching you, broom still in his hands, the rag on the floor by his feet. You wave him off, turning your attention back to Sam. You hear him shout “This is a goddamn temple! Show some respect!” before he gets back to you.

“Where was I?”

“What the hell is going on, Sam?”

“Nothing to worry about, princess. What there is to worry about is my fish.” Sam’s whispering again, ragged. He’s catching his breath. “Y’see. I told you where I was going but I forgot to tell my little brother and, well, someone has to feed my fish.”

“Oh.” You ignore the crunch and thud you hear from Sam’s line. You’re too busy thinking about this fish you’ve never heard of. There’s so much information to unpack right now but the fish is what you zero in on. It’s the only thing that makes sense. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit’s right. I can’t believe I forgot Jimmy like that.”

Jimmy? “Can, can a fish live this long without food?”

“Now, princess, that’s not the kind of talk I need to hear right now.” There are sounds of movement again. Rustling now, too. Like leaves. “I need you to tell me that Jimmy’s going to be fine. That I did not just leave my fish to die alone.”

“I’ll go to him. Just, uh, I don’t have your key.” You know where he lives, you’ve been there a few times when all of this started, pre-Jimmy, but Sam was always there. You never needed to go there alone and you were never left there alone.

“You have one. I left my spare in your room. Y’know, for emergencies.”

“Were you ever going to tell me that?”

“Didn’t think I had to. It’s in plain sight, princess.” He grunts out. “Listen, I have to go, but check your dresser. It should be there. Save Jimmy!!”

  Jimmy is, thankfully, miraculously, fine. His tank needs a little cleaning but you’ve fed him and made sure that there’s enough water for him to swim around in. The top of his castle was starting to peak out. When that’s all done, you send a picture to Sam. You don’t think he’ll see it anytime soon so you toss your phone away and collapse onto his couch.

You’re tired. Apparently getting Sam’s spare key wasn’t as easy as you thought because after sprinting to the bus stop and up the stairs to your apartment, stumbling into your bedroom, you did not find a key at your dresser. No.

After messing up what was once an organized table, you find a note that was clearly written by Sam stuck on your corkboard along with all your other notes written for yourself. Reminders that you needed to go through before the start of your day. Things you’ve long since memorized and never bother to read anymore. That’s Sam’s idea of an “in plain sight” note. Which is also a clue, a riddle that led you to another part of your room, then to your kitchen, underneath your couch, and then to your bedside table, the side he sleeps on. There you find the key taped under a laminated flower. It was the one you had with you when you’d first met Sam. And if Sam recognized it, and you’re pretty sure he did, well you’re glad he wasn’t around for you to find it.

Your phone rings, jolting you out of your daze. You almost fell asleep, the adrenaline gone. You reach for it, refusing to leave your spot, and manage to answer it before the caller hung up. To your surprise, it’s Sam.

“Finally figured out video call?” You say once his face appears on your screen. His holding his phone a little too close but you don’t correct him, finding it cute.

“And you found the key!” Sam says back. “Thanks for saving Jimmy, princess.”

“I read somewhere that goldfish can actually go two weeks without food.”

“Doesn’t mean he has to. C’mon. That’s my roommate.”

“I’m just saying,” You smile because even you wouldn’t want to leave a fish hungry. “Oh. Also. You and I have completely different interpretations of ‘for emergencies.’”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“If I left you something for emergencies, I’d like to think you’d be able to get to it immediately.” You whip the smile of your face. Exchange it with a raised brow, an unamused gaze. “Making me hunt for clues all over my apartment isn’t something I’d like to do in emergency situations.”

Sam lets out a laugh. “Ah. Well, I guess I picked up a few things from work.”

“It would have bitten you in the ass if I didn’t find that key.”

“I had faith in you, princess.”

...

Chapter 4 

Read on AO3

[nonotranslates]

Translation for Season 2 Hypmic Radio: Hypnosis Wave - Yumeno Gentaro (Part 2)

Link to Spotify

Part 2 is from 07:57 - 15:17

This part is golden and I have way too many thoughts about everything here. Please enjoy.

Link to Masterlist

Bold = MC Sascha (host) Regular text = Gentaro

--

07:57 Fourth question

The next letter is from Tokyo Prefecture, Radio Name, Jen-san, 23 Years Old. Thank you for the letter. 次のお便りは東京都ラジオネームJenさん23歳からいただきました ありがとうございます

By all means, I’d like some advice from Yumeno-sensei ぜひ夢野先生にアドバイスをいただきたいです

Hoh.

I have something that I’m constantly worried about 私にはずっと悩んでいることがあります

And that worry is, my boss at my workplace sometimes suddenly makes unreasonable request like wanting me to tell a funny joke, no, more like pull it off on the spot without flopping その悩みと 職場での上司からのなんか面白い話してを いや これで一発に得してという突然の無茶振りです

I myself like joking around in conversations, but being pushed to tell one suddenly causes me to be unable to think of something on the spot and I bombed it 私自身は冗談を交えて会話することは好きなのですが 突然振られると全然面白い話が思いつかず 滑ってしまいます

How do I come up with interesting jokes on the fly to be able to entertain (other people)? どうすれば面白い話がパッーと思いつき楽しませることができますか

Hm. うん

Counter unreasonable requests with unreasonable requests. 無茶ぶりには無茶ぶり返しですよ

The next time you’re told that, present him with ‘Then, first off, as a demonstration, Mr. Manager’s hit joke! Please go ahead!’ 次に言われたら、「では、先にお手本として 課長のすべらない話、どうぞ！」と振って差し上げましょう

If you rinse and repeat this, perhaps your boss too may change his rude behaviour..? * これを繰り返せば その上司の方も 失礼な態度は改めるのではないでしょうか

And also, in the first place, don’t worry about whether you’re funny or not. That sort of thing may not be important. *Note: like, you don’t even know whether such a thing is important or not あとは そもそも滑るかどうかを気にしない ということも大切なのかもしれませんね

Well then, I’ve been speaking non-stop until now, so now let’s listen to a song and take a break for a while . Yumeno Gentarou’s Utena さてここまでつらつらとお話ししてきましたが ここで1曲聴いていただき しばしのブレイクといきましょう 夢野幻太郎でウテナ

09:35 MC Sascha Interim

Spotify Hypnosis Wave. This is MC Sascha. Now playing is Yumeno Gentaro’s Utena. Composers are basho and ESME MORI.

Quite the difficult lyrics to understand, isn’t it?

Conversely, if you want to read between the lines or understand the hidden meaning, you’ll end up thinking and reading more and more deeply into the lyrics 逆に行間を読むというか その裏側を読みたくなるような 考えると どんどん深読みをしてしまうと

There is worth studying into these lyrics

But listeners would likely already have gone and studied it before isn’t it

Such times like this makes you feel as though you’ve already fell into Gentaro’s trap

Well but this is also another type of literary experience. Maybe after that, we might also get to see the truth まあ でも それもまたひとつの文学体験 その先にまた 真実が見えてくるかもしれません

After this, is the end of the radio

Well, it’s a lie though

SPOTIFY HYPNOSIS WAVE

10:27 Fifth question

SPOTIFY HYPNOSIS WAVE

SPOTIFY HYPNOSIS WAVE

June’s monthly navigator is Shibuya Division “Fling Posse”. This week, MC Phantom Yumeno Gentaro will be your guide 夢野幻太郎がご案内しております

Then, let’s continue reading the next letter. では引き続きお便りを紹介してまいります

---------------- This is from Ibaraki prefecture, Radio name Omurice-san, 28 years old. Thank you for the letter. こちらは茨城県ラジオネームomuriceさん28歳からいただきました ありがとうございます

Yumeno-sensei, good evening~

Good evening

I heard Yumeno-sensei likes watermelon

Are you the type that likes to remove the seeds first before eating, or do you just eat it as it is? Please tell me. 夢野先生はスイカがお好きだと聞きましたが スイカの種は食べる前に先に取る派ですか それともそのまま食べる派ですか教えてほしいです ----------------

Hmm… I spit out the seeds as I eat the watermelon 小生はスイカを食べながら口から種を噴き出しますね

Of course, I do it at the verandah もちろん 縁側で

That way, the watermelon seeds will sprout by themselves そうすると勝手にスイカの目が出るのです

As I throw more seeds over there, it becomes a larger area of watermelon growing, until my garden becomes an unlimited watermelon heaven 種を飛ばせばばすほど広範囲にスイカがなるので 小生の家の庭は 無限スイカ天国となります

Well, that’s a lie though まあ 嘘ですけど

11:45 Sixth question

---------------- Next is a letter from Tokyo prefecture, Radio name Formal-san, 18 year old. Thank you.

Yumeno-sensei, good evening

Good evening

My worry is that I get jealous of my friend’s friends. 私の悩みは友達の友達に嫉妬してしまうことです

I understand that they mean no ill will, but when I hear conversations about topics where I was excluded, I end up getting annoyed 相手に悪気がないことはわかっているのですが どうしても私抜きの会話が弾んでいるとムッとしてしまいます

Yumeno-sensei, do you have this type of experience? 夢野先生はこのような経験はありますか

And also, if there’s a way to resolve this please tell me. また 対処法があったら教えてほしいです ----------------

I understand. Yeees, I do understand, friend. わかります えええ わかりますとも

The other day, I had to hear Ramuda and Dice talking about the time just the 2 of them went to play billiard, I hated it 小生も先日 ラムダとダイスが2人でビリアードに行ったときの話をされて いやっときました

I had a deadline coming up at that time that they were talking about, so even though I understand that this can’t be helped *Note: He had a deadline so he couldn’t go play billiard 小生が締め切りを抱えていたときの話なので 詮無いことと納得はしているのですが

Hearing the two of them sounding like they were having fun together just by themselves, really irritates me 2人だけで楽しそうにしているのはマジむかつきます

Times like this, hide a blackboard eraser on top of a door and invite the two over そういうときは 扉に黒板消しを潜ませてから二人を誘い出しだします

You’ll feel so refreshed~ 胸がスーッとしますよ

Of course, that was a lie もちろん嘘ですけど *Note: this is the classic bully trick of letting the blackboard eraser fall onto the person’s head when they open the door

12:47 Seventh question

Well then, let’s go to the next letter

---------------- From Kanagawa prefecture, Radio name House Full of Cats, 27 Years old. Thank you

Yumeno-sensei, good evening

Yes, Good evening

I have cat and dog as pets, but if you were to keep a pet, which animal would you like to have as a pet? 私は猫と犬を飼っているのですが もし飼うならどんな動物を飼いたいですか ----------------

My, having both as pets? I’m envious ほうぅ 両方飼っているんですか。羨ましいですね

Hmm… If it were me, I would like a parasaurolophus. そうですね 小生でしたら、パラサウロロフスですかね

It’s a type of dinosaur but firstly, hearing the sound of the word ‘parasaurolophus’ makes me happy こちら恐竜の一種なんですけれども まずパラサウロロフスという言葉の響きしたが喜びますね

It’s appearance is also very lovely, and the shape of its head is especially adorable, you know. 見た目も非常に愛らしくて 頭の形が特に可愛いらしいんですよ

There’s still lots of animals I’d love to rear but let’s save it for the next time まだまだ飼いたい物いっぱいありますけれども それをまた次の機会にとっておくこととしましょう

13:40 Eighth question

Then, the next letter では次のお便りです

---------------- from Miyagi prefecture, Radio Name Chiaki-san, 35 Years old. Thank you 宮城県ラジオネーム千秋さん35歳からいただきましたありがとうございます

Yumeno-san good evening

Good evening

Yumeno-san is a novelist, but other than a novelist, was there any other occupation that you wanted to become? I’ll be happy if you can tell me about it 夢野さんは小説家ですが 小説家以外に一度なりたかったものはありますでしょうか 教えていただけたら嬉しいです ----------------

Let’s see… そうですねぇ

As I thought, I admired racers. * やはり、レーサーには憧れましたね

I thought about the meaning of ‘Supersonic Phantom who dashes through the circuit’ but… * サーキットを駆け抜ける音速のファントムという意味を考えていたのですが

It’s something that happened in my first race 初めてのレースでのことです

During the start, my engine stalled so I couldn’t even complete one lap. スタートでエンジンストールして1周もできなかったのです

Ever since then, I never held a steering wheel again それ以来ハンドルを握っていません

I thought about using that experience as a story (for my work) but そのうちこの経験を物語にしたいと思ってはいるのですが

It’s, still a little too difficult after all まだ、ちょっと無理です

Evenhough I intend to not linger onto this, 未練はないつもりなのです

But I’m afraid, even I myself am unable to accept it おそらく 自分でも納得できていないのでしょう

During my free time, I remember about the days spent together with my team 暇でも チームのみんなと過ごした 日々よを思い出します

‘At that time, was there anything more that I could have done?’ あの時 もっと自分でできることがあったのではないかと

There isn’t a day where I do not think about it 考えない日はありません

Well, of course, it’s a lie. まぁ、もちろん、嘘ですけど

15:04 Gentaro Interim

SPOTIFY HYPNOSIS WAVE

This is Shibuya Division Fling Posse’s Yumeno Gentaro

It’s alright, you’re not sleepy 大丈夫です あなたは眠くありません

15:17 continued in part 3

--

Link to Part 1 | Link to Part 3

Link to Masterlist

--

I love how this man is absolutely obsessed with watermelons and is so honest about it. He talks about it so often in ARB and even has a line where he admits he can't resist watermelons and will end up clearing the whole watermelon by himself. Also he didn't say it was ALL a lie so there's a chance that the verandah (engawa) part is likely not a lie, then this means he lives in a landed property, probably a traditional Japanese style one with a nice engawa...... if this is in Shibuya then man he is loaded......

Also petty, jealous, seething Gentaro. Yes. Love how he didn't remotely answer the question at all.

Also please pay attention to how there is zero 'uso desu kedo' in his answer about the pets. This man genuinely loves the sound of a dinosaur's name and thinks it's VERY cute and ESPECIALLY adorable (I didn't add anything, he really did say it even in the original Japanese). This man is a softie dork and a big animal lover and a bigass dinosaur fanboy. ARB please give us an animal cafe event already this tired writer deserves it, I'm begging you KR...

I'm pretty sure that the part about the racers is most likely 100% fictional...... In the latest event (part 2 duelist event spoiler?), he said he doesn't get excited about sitting in fast moving objects and had a poker face on a goddamn roller coaster, and per the manga drove to Chuuoku for the 1st DRB. Supersonic Phantom who never held a steering wheel again, my foot.

I have no idea why he did that stupidly sexy hypnotic part at 15:12 (the others is mostly is telling the listener to not be sleepy normally) but hey, here I am looping it for the 10000th time so...... yes i'm not sleepy now (:

[songficsbyrissi]

Make A Baby (T’Challa  x Reader)

“I'll be your Cinderella-ella (Aye) Then maybe you and maybe me Can maybe meet and m-m-make a baby Then maybe you and me Can meet and make a baby, let's make a baby” - Nicki Minaj

A/N: here’s an idea I thought about writing for MONTHS now but I thought it would be too stupid to write. However, with the tragedy we are currently facing, it wouldn’t hurt to write. If I tagged you in this and you’re not in the mood, please don’t feel obligated to but I wrote it to lift the mood. It’s all fluff and humor so I hope this puts a smile on your face through all the grieving 💞🙏🏾

************** You wanted a baby. You NEEDED a baby.

No ifs, ands, and buts about it.

You were ready to bring a life into this world and nurture it. All with your handsome husband King T’Challa. Simple enough, right?

Wrong. Here’s where the problem comes in.

You and T’Challa have only been married for 6 months. When you were engaged, you expressed to your future husband that you wanted to spend at least one year married before trying for a baby. Ultimately, he agreed with you. You know you wanted your husband all to yourself for a year or two before sharing him with a child, but shit changes. Your baby fever was at an all-time high and you wanted a baby now. You wanted to tell him but he seemed happy not having children right now. He got to live his life, do a whole bunch of dangerous shit, come and go as he pleases without worrying his children. He grew to love your agreement while you grew to hate it.

“Fuck it. I want a baby.” You declared quietly as you laid in bed next to T’Challa. The man stirred a bit and mumbled tiredly.

“What did you say, my love?”

Fuck. He was supposed to be 100% asleep. Well, there’s no backing out. Your mother raised a strong woman who says what’s on her mind. Here goes nothing.

“I said I’m feeling achy.”

Wow. You are a pussy. Your mother raised a pussy.

Your loving husband turned to you with a concerned but tired face. “Did you want me to call the medical staff? Because I-“

You bit back a groan and turned your back to him. “No, I’m fine. I just slept wrong. Go back to sleep.”

“Whatever you want, my love.” He planted a kiss on your shoulder and turned back around to sleep.

“I want you to nut in me.” You muttered under your breath.

“Pardon?”

“ I want you to butt and knee! Do some butt and knee workouts! Damn! Good night!”

The next morning, you smacked yourself on the forehead when you walked past the training grounds and saw your husband doing intense squats in his panther suit. He turned to see you and gave you a smile.

“Ahh, my Queen has come to see me do the butt and knee workouts! I am doing them right, Yes?”

You struggled to put on a fake smile and give him a wave as he demonstrated a squat for you. “Yes, you are, my love! Keep going! I’m proud of you!” You turned away and dropped your smile. You got your husband doing bad bitch workouts because you were too much of a pussy to tell him you want his baby. You gotta do better in life. You ran into Erik who was failing to hold back a laugh.

“Yo why the fuck is T on the training grounds trying to get thick?” Erik laughed harder, looking back at his cousin. “Nigga thinks he’s Megan the Panther or some shit!”

You glared at the laughing royal, crossing your arms. “Erik, it’s not funny. He’s only doing that because I’m an idiot.”

Erik stopped laughing and put on a face of puzzlement. “Wait what?”

You shook your head walking away. “Never mind. It’s a long story that you can’t help me with.”

He caught up to you and stood in your way. “And how do you know that?”

“Because you’re Erik. It’s ingrained in you to always have a bad idea.”

He put a hand on his chest in feigned hurt. “Ow, Ms. Queen! That hurt! You might as well slap a nigga in the face while you’re at it!”

“Oh, that was next. Now move out of my way, N’dickhead!”

“Hey! The nickname shit is my thing!” He shouted after you. “Damn, I miss being the only American here.”

You figured it out. You were going to try the subtle approach. Slightly let him know you were open to having a baby now and it was going to happen on your trip to the market.

The king held your hand tightly as you two walked through the market. You stopped at the carrots and saw an opportunity.

“BABY, look at those cute BABY carrots! Aren’t those BABY carrots so cute?!” You put emphasis on the word “baby.”

He gave you a weird look. “Uhh yes? They are adorable.”

You began to gush even more. “Don’t you wanna just have a BABY carrot?”

T’Challa smirked at you, shaking his head in amusement. “I see what you are trying to say.

You felt relieved as he grabbed you by your waist, lovingly. “You do?”

He planted a kiss on your forehead. “Yes I do and we shall prepare baby carrots when we get home.”

Yes! You were getting your baby! You couldn’t wait but you had to eat dinner first. Gotta get your energy up before you get your legs up. You sat on the opposite side of your husband at the royal table. You made eye contact with him and he winked at you, causing a non-visible blush to appear. The servants brought out the food and you were too stuck in your daydream until Erik’s voice broke you out of it.

“What the fuck is this?”

You looked down on your plate and your smile fell along with it. On the plate was Wakandan cuisine with a shitload of....baby carrots. What the fuck?! You glanced back at your husband who had a face splitting grin.

“What the fuck is this shit?!” Erik questioned and Queen mother slapped his head. “Ow Auntie!”

“Watch your language at the dinner table!” She scolded and turned back to her plate.

“Damn she picking up on the swears......”

“My queen pointed out to me multiple times that she wanted baby carrots today at the market so it is only right I had the chefs prepare some. I told you I could pick up hints, my love!” T’Challa declares happily, digging into his meal.

“Yeah...thank you, sweetheart.” You gritted out, popping a baby carrot in your mouth and you wanted to gag.

Not the gagging you were hoping to do today.

Once dinner was over, T’Challa had to attend a meeting with the tribes and you had Erik come beside you as you walked to the royal garden and you finally explained the weird shit that was happening.

“So what you’re telling me is that I had to sit at that table and eat those nasty ass carrots because you’re too pussy to tell your HUSBAND to give you his dumbass seed?!” Erik glared at you in disbelief. “I swear to God, y’all niggas make it hard for me to stay redeemed.”

You scoffed in annoyance. “Erik, this isn’t about you!”

“Like hell! It became about me when you made me eat those nasty ass carrots!”

You sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alright! I'm sorry! If it makes you feel any better, I fucking hate carrots and I had to eat them.”

“Just tell that nigga, man. He don’t do hints or all that special shit. You just gotta be blunt and tell it like it is like I do.”

You thought about it and thought about it and finally shook your head. “Nahhhhh. Imma sneak it into a conversation.”

“You should not be this damn nervous to say you want to get nutted in.”

So the next approach was sneaking it into a conversation. How’d that work out? Well...

“Awww look at this! Russell and Ciara had their baby!” You showed him Ciara’s Instagram on your phone. You two were in his office, discussing a trade for him to sign off on.

“Who is Ciara again?”

You rolled your eyes. “A singer. She sang Goodies! My goodies! My goodies! Not my goodies!” You began to sing but he barely paid attention.

“Speaking of Ciara, there was a song meant for her that Nicki Minaj recorded-“

He finally looked at you. “Nicki Minaj! That’s the woman made a Friday the color of pink!”

Ok, so he half listens to you. “Uhhh sure, anyways, she recorded it but never released it. It’s called Make a baby. It’s goes, “maybe you and maybe me can meet and make a baby.” You stared into his eyes singing it slowly.

“Oh, I see why it was not released. No offense but The song sounds terrible.”

You groaned loudly slamming your head on the desk. Why did you marry such a gorgeous yet moronic man?! You should’ve have to spell this out for him.

“My love, do you always slam your head on surfaces? That might be the cause of your aches.”

Okay, so approach #1 and #2 did not work. How about approach #3?

You burst through the doors of his office on a mission.

“I want a fucking baby!”

Your eyes widened, seeing a group of superheroes in his office and not one glimpse of your husband anywhere. This group of superheroes were the fucking Avengers. You were embarrassed was an understatement. T’Challa came up beside you.

“Ahh, I see you’ve all met my beautiful queen, Y/N. Y/N, these are the Avengers.”

You waved sheepishly. “Hey...Avengers...”.

They awkwardly waved back at you in response.

“I heard you say something, my love. What is it?”

Shit. You definitely weren’t going to repeat the words now that you have an audience.

“I said Iran is a maybe! You don’t remember but remember when I said I was making a list of countries to visit next month and I said we were definitely going to Iran? Well, now it’s a maybe. A lot is going on over there. So it’s in the “maybe” column. Yeah.”

You must say, your ability to bullshit and bullshit quickly was impressive. If your future baby inherits that, you’re in trouble.

“Oh okay, we can discuss that later, my love.” He kissed your cheek and you awkwardly turned on your heel to leave the office. Just like that, approach 3 was a complete fail as well. You were such an idiot.

When T’Challa finally retired to your shared bedroom for the day, you were still wide awake. All these approaches were not working. Honestly, fuck approaches. Approaches were not getting you pregnant.

“T’Challa.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I want to have a baby.”

He shifted beside you. “I’m sorry?”

You sighed sitting up in bed and staring at him With all the sincerity you could muster. “I want to have a baby. I know I wanted to wait a year or two but I changed my mind. I’m ready to be a mother now.” You expected him to have a serious face, ready for a discussion but instead, he was....amused. Had his cheekbones poking out along with his signature smirk.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to tell me that.”

“Oh my God! You knew?!?!!”

He sat up, chuckling at your expense. “Yes, I knew.”

You hit your husband in the chest. “You ass! How long did you know?!”

“When you said it in bed that one night,” T’Challa replied, causing you to hit him again.

“Wait so you had me making an ass out of myself to tell you I wanted to have your child?!”

He held his hands up in defense. “Hey, that was your choice, my love. You should have just told me, instead of creating all these complicated ways to say it. I am your husband. You should not have to beat around the bush with me.”

Damn, he was right. Damn, Erik was right. For once in his life. Damn him.

“So.....what do you say?” You asked sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. You made eye contact when he grabbed your chin and kissed your lips sweetly.

“My love, I’ve wanted children with you ever since I fell in love with you. I was always ready to be the father of your children but I wanted you to be ready to be the mother of my children.”

You smiled widely, kissing him again. “And I am. I am ready to give you children.”

T’Challa began to climb on top of you. “Then what is the holdup? I must...nut in you? Is that the proper language?”

“Yes! Yes, it is! Now do that!”

And unlike your approaches, it only took you and T’Challa one time to get what you wanted.

Tags:  @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy​ @dramaqueeenamby​ @marvelmaree​ @guccixcucci​i @brattywriters-anonymous @cancerianprincess​ @creole-mami​ @maddiestundentwritergaines​ @blowmymbackout @ljstraightnochaser @blackpinup22 @airis-paris14 @vibranium-chakra @sociallyawkward18 @chefjessypooh @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @slimmiyagi @imasmille @ashanti-notthesinger @thehomierobbstark @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @quietstorm-73 @90sinspiredgirl​ @lewatigress @kaykay0829 @queennanayaa @mysticbrownie @holy-minseok @queenof-wakanda @destinio1 @raysunshine78 @amelatonin​ @lewatigress​ @ambthegamer​ @fandom-fangirl22​ @catzspaceships​ @darkskin-buttercup​ @blackrockshooter780​ 

[ushidoux]

Lesson - Atsumu x Reader

Summary: You drop Atsumu for bad behavior and he’s struggling to understand. (~1.4k words)

Warnings: super toxic Atsumu, toxic relationships, fem!reader, references to sex

A/N: literally don’t date a dude like this i’m not promoting anything lmfao. also it’s just bad feeling in this fic, no one gets gravely injured.

Song: S**c*dal by YNW Melly

---

I thought that we were meant to be

You took my heart and made it bleed

I gave you all my ecstasy

I know you'll be the death of me

One ring, two rings, three rings, four. No response. 

In the pitch dark of his bedroom, his face incompletely illuminated by the light of his cell phone, Atsumu Miya sends his fifth text of the night. 

Pick up, please.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings. Again, no response.

Atsumu feels his chest tighten, and his face flushes even redder than before, but he’s not yet angry. He’s still desperate to hear your voice. He sends yet another text.

I’m sorry, I’ll change... I’ll do anything you want. Just please just pick up the phone.

He gives you time to respond. That’s what you’ve always asked from him, right? Time, in terms of attention, in terms of patience, in terms of advancing the relationship in a direction that you thought was fruitful.

He hated so much that you always wanted to set the pace. Whether it was when to become exclusive, when to start having sex regularly, when to meet the losers you called your friends, when to meet your parents. You wanted to control everything, and even that you had essentially cut him out of your life, you were again controlling his reactions.

Why else would he still be up at 4am, trying so hard to get your attention? All his better logic told him you were asleep, maybe even asleep in that piece of shit’s arms, but multiple shots of Hennessey told him it was right to text and call and beg. After all, you had said once that you’d be by his side no matter what. 

So why was he alone in this bed?

Ten minutes pass and he calls again.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings, six. No response.

I know it’s late, but I need you, he texts, and then he calls again.

One ring and the phone abruptly cuts off, and Atsumu’s bottled up emotions explode.

“Sorry, the person you are trying to reach is not available -”

“Fuck, ___! Ya stupid fucking bitch, you.. You always wanted me to care for you so here I am caring, why the fuck would you do this to me, why the fuck… are you serious? Why…,” his slightly slurring voice loses steam and trails off instead as tears start to well up in his tired eyes.

“Why would ya give up on me now?”

Left lipstick on my Hennessy

Felt like you took my soul from me

You gave me all your ecstasy

I thought that we were meant to be

Atsumu was always confident and having your unconditional love and support despite the way he treated you only served to supplant that arrogance. You’d never leave him, you always grinned and bore anything he threw at you.

“Shut the fuck up at my matches.”

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the team.”

“I’m not interested, ask somebody else.”

“Find something better to do than follow me around, you’re so needy.”

He barely looked at you when his words were harsh, so he couldn’t see your smiles towards him deepen into frowns every time he spoke to you without respect until eventually all that remained was contempt when you looked in his direction.

But would he have realized then? Maybe your own regard would have simply fallen in line with the way others saw him. He didn’t care what others thought. He was sure he didn’t care what you thought. Until now. 

Baby, you took control of me

And I got too many enemies

I knew you wanted to fuck him 'cause I could just tell

Check my back, now I'm, now I'm in my bag, yeah

You did me bad, you did me bad

But I said, "Fuck it," and I ran up my bag, yeah

Atsumu never hung up the phone as he blew up, despite holding back warm tears that clouded his vision even more so than the pitch blackness of the room.

“Fucking whore, I bet you’re at his place now, you stupid, stupid slut!” He yelled into the phone.

But you’d never cheated. You’d just quietly asked him to treat you better or you would leave him, and he had simply laughed.

“Do you think you can find better?” He had asked, and your stomach had turned at the cruel way his smile upturned as he stepped closer to you, towering you with his height and gripping your face with two fingers. “You may be pretty, little piggy, but there’s not much better than me, silly.”

“I-I don’t want to leave you… I just want you to be a little less mean.”

“A little less mean, or a little less me?” He teased before planting a kiss on your trembling mouth, biting your lower lip just slightly as he parted.

“‘Sumu please…,” you insisted, flustered that he still made you hot despite how much you realized he was objectively awful to you.

“Why should I be nicer to you when you’re desperate for my cock anyway?”

So sure that you would never take your eyes off of him as he perfected his tosses game after game, he didn’t notice you slip away. He didn’t notice the increased time you spent out with friends distancing yourself from him or that the way your face now lit up when you received texts from heaven-knows-who.

Why would he have to? You would always be by his side no matter what.

But you didn't even put it all on the line

For me, no, oh, I'm sorry

This is the end of us

It's crazy 'cause my heart is dangerous

“Let’s break up.”

He laughed when you said those words right on the phone, right when he was on his way to meet you.

You? Breaking up with him?

“Yer so funny, ___. Anyway, I had a rough day babe, so you already know what I need.”

“I’m serious, Atsumu. Don’t come here… I-I won’t open the door.”

Your resolve had been shaky, but you were firm. So firm in fact that he found himself standing in front of the door banging as hard as he could for your attention, as you remained inside, using loud headphones to block out the racket as well as the expletives now filling the hallway. You considered for a moment calling the police, but you knew it would kill a man as proud as Atsumu to be escorted out by authorities on your behalf. 

Again, for his sake and for the last time, you endured it.

Felt like you took my soul from me

Like the devil got a hold on me

Everybody wishin' bad on me

Everybody wishin' bad on me

“She’s a stupid fucking slut, I should have known from the start, can’t trust these bitches no matter what they tell you,” Atsumu grumbled, seated at his brother’s restaurant, now that he had taken a moment to stop roasting the quality of the free onigiri his brother had offered him and had enough time to be vulnerable.

Osamu’s droopy eyes, not unlike his furious brother in front of him, looked almost exasperated.

“I mean, you’re sort of a douche,” he finally replied flatly.

“And?”

Osamu would have added something else if not for the fact that Atsumu had started choking on the food he was wolfing down with reckless abandon. While Osamu said nothing further, he made a mental note to expect Atsumu way more often and to check in. It was painfully evident that his twin was way more hurt than he let on. 

It was only after he got drunk enough that he finally admitted,

“I wish I had listened to her.”

You taught a lesson to me that I had to learn

And I'm so sorry 'cause you let our bridges burn

I said I loved you and I wish I never did

I swear to God, I swear to God, you stupid bitch

“I fucking hate you, ya know that? I hate you so fucking much. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you...”

His voice warbles from alcohol and now he’s repeating that phrase over and over again; the message seems to go on for forever, but you listen to every word. The fact of the matter is that you miss him, and you wish you didn’t. You know he needs you but you need him to be better. 

So you continue to listen, not because you want to hear him suffer and not because you want to be with him anymore - at least not right now, anyway - but because you need closure. Evidence. Reassurance that he was really not ready to love you.

He curses you for leaving him for what feels like forever, but then nothing more is said and you’re sure he’s fallen asleep, but his last words haunt you:

“I loved you so fucking much.”

[broadstbroskis]

funny | mat barzal

a/n: quite frankly, i don’t exactly know what this is. i was listening to the song funny (stripped) by jasmine thompson and zedd and pulled this little thing together. it is not, actually, funny at all; if you’ve listened to the song you’ll know we’re headed more for angst (and if you haven’t listened to it, i highly recommend!)

-----

It's funny how you miss me more than you could ever love me How you couldn't give me everythin' and now you want it from me Yeah, it's funny how it's different now that I got somebody

It’s the kind of fall night that made you wish you could live in the season forever. That perfect crispness in the air, where you steal your boyfriend’s jacket from him with just a kiss as you settle into his side near your firepit at the bar, surrounded by all your friends, laughing and drinking. It’s perfect, ideal even, so naturally your phone starts to buzz in your pocket.

do not call him flashes across the screen and you quickly ignore the call, slipping it back into your pocket.

“Everything okay?” Josh is the sweetest, kindest, most caring guy you’ve dated ever, and each time you think the other shoe is going to drop to prove that wrong...it doesn’t. He brushes his nose against your cheek as he checks in, the coldness causing you to flinch away, but he wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Yeah.” You allow yourself to be pulled into his arms. “Just spam.”

“Those fools never stop.” Josh laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

You think of the instagram you’d posted earlier, a picture of the two of you laughing doing some corny cheers motion in front of the firepit, and looking happy and in love and all the things people say you look now, and well, you’d heard some things about this fool not being happy.... “Respect the hustle.” You joke, because frankly, you couldn’t care less about Mat Barzal anymore.

It’s the last thing he said to you anyway.

-----

It’s, of course, too much to think that one phone call would be the end of this. Mat’s always been stubborn, always been headstrong, so yeah, of course shit’s different now that you’re happy and he’s not.

But you should have known better. This smoothie place was Tito Beauvillier’s before it was yours and he was Mat’s friend before yours too. Besides the occasional instagram comment, you hadn’t had much interaction until this run-in, but the look on his face tells you exactly how this is going to go.

And sure enough, after small pleasantries while you’re both waiting for your smoothies, he drops exactly what you knew he was going to. “He misses you.”

“That’s nice.”

Tito gives you a look; the seriousness doesn’t fit him at all. “He’s not looking for anything from you. He just-he knows he messed up and he’s sorry. Will you just talk to him?”

Behind the counter, the barista calls your name, blessedly, because you’re done with this conversation. “I wanted to talk to him last spring. He doesn’t just get to decide he wants to talk to me again now, now that he’s decided I am a good enough toy for him.” Tito winces and like, good fucking riddance. “Fuck off, Tito, and tell Mat the same.”

-----

Your best friend’s golden birthday falls on a Saturday, and she sends everyone a detailed itinerary for her plans for the evening, including but not limited to: sparkly dresses, champagne, and shots. She’s only been planning this occasion since her last birthday, so you’ve got the short, silver, sparkly dress already planned for the evening, and jello shots prepped in the fridge for the pregame. 

The jello shots and champagne turn out to be needed because somehow, someway, there’s a pack of Islanders at the third bar you turn up at, Amanda already pushing her way up to the bar for a round. “It’s my birthday!” She shouts to the bartender, who’s definitely eyeing up more than her face.

You only just manage to get a drink in your hand when the reason you ordered a double appears at your elbow. “Can we talk?” Mat requests gently, even as you stare at him entirely unimpressed. “Please.”

Honestly, you want to say no, so badly. You’d given Mat so much; he was the one who’d ended it with practically nothing, the one who didn’t want to say a word to you about it afterwards. You’d been sad about it, you’d been angry about it, you’d moved on. There wasn’t anything to say to him.

And it’s that, the idea of telling him there’s nothing left to say, more than anything, that has you agreeing to follow him. Mat walks outside the bar completely, away from the bouncer to a quiet spot just a few feet away. 

“Thanks for coming out here with me.” Mat says and then stops.

“Mhmm.” You nod, hoping it’ll spur him into talking, but it really doesn’t, which just annoys you. “Do actually have something to say, or-”

“I miss-” Mat starts, but you cut him off abruptly.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He frowns.

“Don’t say it.”

He huffs and you can see him start to get annoyed, which just flares your temper. “You asked me to say it, so I did!”

“Well, you don’t fucking get to say that!” You cry, breathing heavily. “You didn’t have shit to say to me when I wanted to talk to you. You didn’t have shit to say to me all spring or summer.” You can feel the tears coming to your eyes,  the frustration you feel from the situation not helping. 

“I didn’t...I didn’t handle it well.” Mat says quietly. He looks down at the sidewalk, scuffing his shoe in a way that’s unlike him;  he hates doing that, loves his shoes too much to risk messing with them.

“No fucking shit.” You can’t even fight back the sarcasm or the eye roll. 

But now Mat’s on a roll. “I should have talked to you before I broke up with you in the first place, but I could have at least said something to you when you wanted to last spring. I loved you then and I still love you now and I miss you.”

Those are definitely tears sliding down your cheeks and when Mat reaches a thumb out to wipe them away, you can’t even bring yourself to stop him. “That’s not fair.”

Seriously, fuck him. Fuck him for making you think you were over him. Fuck him for being so gentle. Fuck him for putting you in this position. 

“I’m sorry.” Mat says and you don’t even realize he’s gotten closer until he’s pressing the softest kiss to your forehead.

“For last spring in general?” You hear the hiccup in your breath, know that Mat hears it too. “Or for waiting until I was happy to apologize for it?”

Mat’s silent at that and you both know the answer as he presses another kiss to your forehead, before stepping away. “Fuck you, Mat.” You repeat, as he slips away toward the club, leaving you once again, crying alone in the cold.