#beeps yapping

[koppaiterocker]

Guys hear me out please . The reason their hair is like this (especially after Clay's was straight when younger) is because of Viva! Her tendency to braid people's hair isn't touched on in the movie besides "it means I like you" so here I am with a whiteboard and a fresh expo marker

As someone who has its fair share of anxiety and regular Bad Thoughts, I reach up to my hair all the time to fidget. It's great, I'm native so it's thick and tough, and without even thinking I can twirl or tie it around for HOURS. If I have media playing I can zone out in, I can play with other people's hair for hours as well and I won't feel any ache in my wrists or anything

Vivas hair is more erratic than Clay's, so I figure that after the great Bergen attack, she would ground herself by reaching up and digging her fingers through her hair, stressing it out and fraying it so it no longer stuck up straight like pop troll hair seems inclined to do, and one day after zoning in from perhaps an anxiety attack or calming herself from a bad nightmare, she'd find the handful of hair she had grabbed was braided. Happens to me more often than I could even count, when it's bad my bangs will just end up braided or tied into a weird knot without me consciously doing it. And since braiding hair takes slightly more effort than just pulling or twisting it, she'd start intentionally braiding her hair in sections as a stress reliever and calming method

Of course over time it would become second nature, we can see how fast she braids Poppy and Branchs hair in the movie (Poppy braids hers as well, but Poppy only did a few small sections vs Viva doing their entire head and VERY neatly) so asking people she trusts to braid their hair as both a way to spend time with them and an even better way to help quell her anxiety (I like body doubling so I might just be projecting) and since Clay is absolutely her best friend, whether you think DreamWorks tried to imply romance or not, he would be the most common "victim" of Vivas braiding and so over the course of two decades their hair has just become accustomed to bring braided and so it's wild like this.

This is very stupid thank you for coming to my lecture

#i just cannot see teen clay and adult clay side by side and think its the same person #anyway theyre both my goofy goobers #i got asked for clay details on tiktok before someone like floyd whose a new fandom fsvorite and i was THRILLED #coming out. clay js my favorite brozone member #koppaitepaladin #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls band together #tbt #trolls viva #trolls clay #cliva #maybe. i dunno #but in a really queer way #beeps yapping #trolls headcanons #beep headcanons

[iluvjellies0x]

Hello hellooowww!!!!

I wasn't online here for like a week... So I offer you all my apology from the bottom of my heart!! ^_^

(i might have forgotten how to speak. sorry about that...)

I've been busy with writing and studying lately... So I didn't have much time editing!! Also I was kinda focused on posting on TikTok... Not gonna lie!! ALSO ALSO I don't have any ideas... Sob sob...

Anyways... Guys, meet Sir Liquorice!!

What a gentleman... Won't you take the flower? :3

#YAYAYYAYA NEW THING TO YAP ABOUT!!! #also very very special thanks to beep for this fancy name for him!!!! #hehe... spuder #i dont know what to say here so uhm #byee!!

[solar-halos]

december prompts #9 fuzzy socks<3

omg thank you for this prompt it was soso fun <3. since i got a lil carried away the odesta fluff will commence under the cut!! :D

established relationship, artsy annie cresta

It hardly ever snows in District 4, which is majorly fucked up.

Annie loves the snow. She doesn’t remember much about her Victory Tour, ‘cause the Capitol kept her so doped up all the time, but she does remember that she got to play in it a few times.

It was so deep that Annie had to wear special clothes, delighting in the way the pillowy ground swallowed her heavy boots in the strangest rendition of shaved ice she’s ever seen. Mags stood guard to make sure that Annie didn’t eat shit. She even knitted her a scarf to place around the snowman the Capitol escort taught her how to make.

District 4 doesn’t have any snowmen, but it sure does have a lot of shaved ice. Pineapple syrup drips from Annie’s chin and sizzles onto the pavement.

Johanna was so lucky. She’s been swaddled in sweaters and chugging hot chocolate since October. District 4 always seems to miss the memo, but Annie has to admit it’s pretty wicked that she and her boyfriend can still go on romantic night swims during what’s usually the dead of winter for most districts.

She shifts a bit in her flowy dress so she can sit closer to Finnick. They couldn’t venture far from his house before the entire district started getting all fucking nosey, so she’s completely content to press her freezing cold lips to his cheek from the safety of his porch.

He melts in relief, a testament to how blazing hot it is. He asks her to do it again.

She obliges. She peppers his face with kisses until he’s as sticky as the syrup baked onto her wrists. Which would probably sound a little gross if he wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his.

They have little ways of protesting nasty heatwaves, though. They barricade themselves inside, air conditioning on full blast (they’re victors—they can afford to get a little frivolous), and Finnick makes all these tasty soups. Annie knits blankets and sweaters and cardigans with Mags until they’re buried under scrap pieces of yarn. They’re cozy, even if the sun streaming through their curtains would say otherwise.

She sends most of the pieces to Johanna. Johanna expresses her gratitude in the form of a letter, a bundle of fuzzy socks attached.

They’re almost as soft as snow. Finnick slips the pair with colorful mushrooms decorating the fabric onto her feet, claiming the ones with maple leaves for himself.

They scramble to their feet to show Mags their new look, sock-clad feet slipping against the tiled floor, and then promptly eat shit.

Turns out fuzzy socks were just as slippery as snow, too. Good to know. The gears in her brain start to turn when she’s reading Johanna’s newest letter, complete with a picture of ice skates and a frozen lake.

“We should go ice skating!”

Finnick doesn’t even question it, because of course he doesn’t. They’re one and the same, unlike the snowflakes they hang from the ceiling using construction paper and glitter glue, because Annie heard somewhere that all snowflakes are unique. They blast the AC so the paper doesn’t wilt, and once Finnick’s nose gets pink from the cold and Annie can feel a chill bite at her cheeks, they rifle through their winter clothes.

Annie slips on a scarf, Finnick pulls a sweater over his head, and then they spritz an extra tall swirl of whipped cream over their mugs of hot chocolate. Annie even garnishes it with some crushed up peppermint candy she bought the other day.

And then comes the best part: clearing out the stuff in the kitchen until it’s bare and completely skate-able.

They race from one end of the kitchen to the other, pushing off the wall and holding their arms out for balance as their socks glide against the tile. (Annie wins). They have a spinning contest. (Finnick wins.) They dance the afternoon away. (It was a team effort.)

Finnick doesn’t even need to grab onto her waist to twirl her around. All he really has to do is hold her hand and run around in circles like a tetherball, fingers clasped around hers in the warmest version of a hug Annie’s ever received. She giggles as a cool front whips against her scarf. They must be under a vent.

He dips her, holding her against him extra securely. She grins, so dizzy that she sees three of him.

That’s okay. She kisses him three extra times to make up for it, the gesture warming her all the way down to her sock-footed toes.

(^ live footage of johanna and annie and the gang ice skating together)

#beep beep #<3 #odesta #annie cresta #i wrote this after i finished writing a paper i’ve been procrastinating on for weeks btw #like the only reason i finished it b4 11:58 (it is due tn by 11:59) was bc i wanted to write odesta fluff #usually reward system shit doesn’t work on my brain bc duh why not just get reward now but i knew i wouldn’t be able to focus on this lol #would anyone like to read my ten pg paper on alternatives to incarceration + sentencing reform #i know i don’t #anyway SORRY let me stop yapping like i did not need to say all that.. #but i’m so glad that paper is done! like finally #happy holidays #tis the season

[robotgirlservos]

#kobold yaps #robo beeps

[vilf-lover]

okay…porter replacing vincent whatever

do not let him touch sam

back awayyyy from the cowboy

#beep beeep beep #that’s you backing away #no one has anything on #duke samuel collins of the solaire clan #alright #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #i’m yapping #i love cowboys #kenza loves kowboys

[beeptheboo]

Layal :D

#beep yaps #artwork #traditional art #oc art

[meowydoe]

Wait nvm the alarm isn’t that bad

#mine didn’t go off but other peoples did #it sounds kinda like a school bell/intercom noise #-ish? just like a loud beep #daisy yip yaps

[sweetronancer]

i dont wanna go to school tomorrow someone please save me (we have the pacer test pls pls pls)

#percy pauses and yaps for a little #i can do every other test *but* the pacer #i dont like the beep it hurts my ears

[grimdarkmage]

This entire site has turned into a series of blips and beeps you’d think we were communing in Morse code instead of beating the shit out of each other with paws

#beep? more like b #beating you #Azul yaps

[koppaiterocker]

I am physically unable to art right now take the scary renders and basic ass headcanons

#koppaiterocker #dreamworks trolls #trolls #tbt #trolls band together #barb #beeps yapping #brozone #trolls poppy #trolls branch #trolls viva #trolls barb #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls spruce #trolls bruce #trolls john dory #trolls headcanons

[wintabite]

2am ramen

GENRE! fluff

NOTES! gn!reader, wc: 544

SYNOPSIS! it's 2am and you're having a sleepover at riki's, but midway through your all nighter, you're both starving

the sound of a movie from riki's laptop plays in the background as you two lay in his bed, chatting away about something completely unrelated. whenever you'd have a sleepover together, it was either an all nighter or the best and longest sleep you'll ever get.

"are you hungry?" he asks you out of nowhere once you've finished yapping about an annoying cashier you had met a few days ago.

"um, yeah, actually. are you?" you found it a bit odd that he asked out of nowhere, but that's when you realized you were hungry. really hungry. both of you had been so distracted the whole night and hadn't realized until it got to a point of the background movie where some characters were eating dinner.

"great, i really want ramen right now, and you're making it with me!" the boy grabbed onto your wrist gently, dragging you out of bed with him. you two drifted towards his kitchen, he turned on one of the lights, which startled you.

"can you turn on the kettle?" riki asked as he opened one of the cupboards, taking out two cups of ramen and setting them on the counter next to where you and the kettle were. you turned to face him, finding riki standing quite closely to you.

"it's cold" he complained, oddly looking like he was faintly frowning.

"codeword for you want me to hug you" you saw right through him. riki nodded, and of course you gave in when he looked at you with eyes of pure admiration. wrapping your arms around him, you buried your head in his chest, your favourite thing to do. he did the same, resting his head in the crook of your neck. the only sound in the kitchen was the kettle and both of your faint breaths. it was really peaceful, and sure, you were pulling an all nighter, but you could have fallen asleep right then and there. unfortunately, after what felt too short, the kettle beeped, meaning it was done boiling.

"i'm gonna fight my kettle for this.." he mumbled playfully, pulling away and going to pour the boiling water into the ramen cups. you watched carefully, the warm steam brushing against your face.

"it's just me pouring water, it's not that interesting, y/n" he teased you, setting the kettle back down in it's original spot and closing the top part of the cups to let them sit.

"oh, shut up" you rolled your eyes, lightly punching his shoulder "you're losing kissing privileges for the rest of the night!" the perfect punishment for him, although, you knew he wouldn't last, neither would you.

" right.. we'll see about that.."

a few minutes past, they were just spent talking with the occasional sneak-attack-kiss from riki, which always failed because you just dodged them. the ramen had finished, and it felt like forever. without even thinking about it, you immediately started eating it, ignoring how hot it was.

"as a thank you for the ramen, you could kiss me?" he pitched the idea as you two leaned against the kitchen island, just standing there instead of going to sit somewhere.

"after, ki" after, you did kiss him, and also kissed him for each time you blocked his sneak-attacks

a/n: honestly my fave post so far this was so fun

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen riki #ni ki #niki x reader #nishimura riki #riki fluff #riki x reader

[princessbrunette]

what if the reader is out with her friends at night and she checks the time and is like rafes gonna be mad at me and her friends are like why are u so worried it’s not like he’s ur dad and the readers like they are so right but rafe finds her and drags her home and teaches her a lesson

⊹ ࣪ ˖

he never really liked your friends. the stuck up kind of kook bitches that think they’re better than everyone. they weren’t like you, he thought — you were sweet, different. it’s why he hated when they went out with you, always getting you into trouble, corrupting his sweet and blameless girl. it seemed harsh, but that’s why he enforced such a strict curfew. lord knows you needed it, you didn’t have any guiding figure of authority in your life, and where rafe see’s gaps, he always has to step up.

that’s why he knew your friends were to blame as soon as you yapped out the words “m’not coming back right now, you’re not my dad!” over the phone before hanging up on him like a coward. he pushed his tongue into his cheek, hearing the beep signifying the end of the call. okay, then.

he scoffs on the drive over there, thinking about the way you said it. you really thought he wouldn’t be able to hear the overexcited whispers of your friends in the background leading you astray, or the nervous tremor in your voice as you squeak out the insult, hitting the end call button as quickly as humanely possibly all so that you wouldn’t have to face his backlash. that wasn’t his angel, no. that was the work of the devil, and you were not to be seen hanging out with them any more, not if he had anything to do with it.

he approaches calmly, with authority— relishing in the way your face drops when you see him walk into the bar and toward your table. your friends notice your change in behaviour first, eyeing the way you jump off your bar stool and immediately pick up your bag, getting ready to go.

he has that malicious smirk when he steps up to the table, practically a wall as you try and push at his tummy, leading him away before he says anything. “evening ladies.” he ignores you, eyes travelling round the table.

“sup, rafe.” one of them boredly twirls her straw, knowing he’s literally a psycho.

“you know, i think it’s best you all stay the hell away from my girl from now on. yeah? ‘cos— ‘cos i think it’s in everyone’s best interest and…” he leans his hands on the table, glancing around. “you wouldn’t want any trouble for your friend now, right?” he reaches out and places a hand on your arm without looking at you. your friends shake their head and he nods in satisfaction.

“good to see you, girls. we’re leavin’.”

he doesn’t let you say goodbye, doesn’t let you say a thing — just leads you calmly out the bar with a forceful hand at the small of your back, walking you all the way to the car. your heart was thumping, wondering what kind of trouble you’d be in.

the drive was silent until he broke the quiet with a laugh and the shake of his head, something that could never be good in rafes book.

“you know i— i- i bust my ass working n’making money for you to have at your disposal. take you shoppin’, nice food, let you run around with your friends… its just really not fair when you talk to me like that baby. do you think i’m some kinda bitch who lets my girl talk to me however she wants? no, look at me— do you think i’m a bitch?”

you look at him with wide teary eyes and shake your head. “n—no, rafe, you’re not a—”

“‘you’re not my dad’” he quotes, laughing once more as he pulls up into the driveway, parking the car and wiping his hands down his face. “y’know maybe i should start actin’ like it seein’ as you wanna run off n’misbehave the way you do. yeah? yeah i think that’s what i’ll do.” he gets out the car and storms around to your side, yanking your door open. “i think you’re gonna have to start callin’ me dad from now on.” he presses your seatbelt button and yanks you out the car by the arm making you yelp, practically losing your footing as he drags you to the house.

there’s no one home, unsurprisingly— so he takes you straight to the living room, pushing you down on the couch. you fall onto it face first, scrambling to sit up but he pushes you back down to lay on your tummy— keeping a warning hand on your back for a moment, bunching your skirt up above your ass before removing it, aggressively working his belt off.

“rafe!” you cry, wiggling on the couch.

“ah— s’not what you’re calling me anymore now, is it?”

“dad.” you whine shamefully, grabbing a couch cushion to press your cheek into.

“better.” he approaches, kneeling down beside you on the couch for a moment, belt folded in his hands. “do you feel better after talkin’ to me like that, baby? lettin’ your friends boss you around?”

you sniffle, shaking your head and flinching each time he moves even slightly. “no! i’m sorry!”

“yeah… yeah.” he scratches his cheek. “a little late for sorry, huh? who’s allowed to boss you around baby, tell me.”

“you dad.”

“mhm… s’damn right.” he stands to his full height before bringing his belt down on your ass.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

#anon #tw fauxcest #rafe cameron prompt

[writingraven]

Vocabulary

Words to Describe Sound

✷

↠ bang

↠ bark

↠ beep

↠ bellow

↠ blare

↠ blast

↠ bong

↠ boom

↠ buzz

↠ cackle

↠ cheep

↠ chime

↠ chirp

↠ clack

↠ clang

↠ clank

↠ clap

↠ clatter

↠ click

↠ clink

↠ cluck

↠ clunk

↠ crack

↠ crackle

↠ crash

↠ creak

↠ crinkle

↠ drip

↠ drum

↠ fizz

↠ gnash

↠ gobble

↠ grate

↠ grind

↠ groan

↠ growl

↠ grumble

↠ grunt

↠ gurgle

↠ hiss

↠ hoot

↠ howl

↠ hum

↠ jangle

↠ jingle

↠ knock

↠ moan

↠ neigh

↠ patter

↠ peep

↠ ping

↠ pop

↠ pound

↠ pow

↠ pulse

↠ purr

↠ rap

↠ rattle

↠ ring

↠ ripple

↠ roar

↠ rumble

↠ rustle

↠ scream

↠ screech

↠ scrunch

↠ shriek

↠ sizzle

↠ slam

↠ snap

↠ snarl

↠ snort

↠ splash

↠ sputter

↠ squak

↠ squeal

↠ squeek

↠ squish

↠ stamp

↠ swish

↠ swoosh

↠ tap

↠ tear

↠ throb

↠ thud

↠ thump

↠ thunder

↠ tick

↠ tinkle

↠ toot

↠ trill

↠ twang

↠ twitter

↠ wail

↠ wheeze

↠ whine

↠ whisper

↠ yap

↠ yelp

↠ zap

#writing #writing tips #story ideas #reference #knowledge #writing reference #vocabulary #synonyms #writing help #writing words #writing fiction #writing inspiration #writing advice #senses #creative writing

[sirens-sanctuary]

business casual

. miguel o'hara x fem!reader

. TW: NSFW!, oral (female receiving), pubic sex?,

. the promised fic, i have a few more in the works- also not proofread so except a few typos lol

. masterlist, taglist, rules and a/n below~

. NSFW! below the cut

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑

you were never really around miguel at the spider society, but you had a crush on him as soon as you saw him. how could you not? well- you could see why no one else would because hes your boss... sort of? hes just kinda the guy in charge around here so like technically if you were to do whatever you wanted to him it wouldnt be bad, lol ok.

you often got lost in these conversations with yourself at your corner in the ss (spider society, i cannot bring myself to type it out every time lmao)

miguel never really paid any mind to you, he appreciated your work around the place but there wasn't anything too special about you...he liked that. you were simple, you weren't difficult to figure out, not difficult to talk to, you weren't complex like the other things he needed to deal with. he liked that. however— he didn't like how you distanced yourself from him, just as you were easy to read it was easy to see you keep your time with him limited. can't have that, he hates that. he wants you, wants to hear you speak. he sees you yap with your friends here at the ss, but you would say only a few words with him.

he has a plan.. nothing extravagant, just a simple, not complex plan.

it was almost the end of the day when all the other spiders left and went home, you were still in your corner, daydreaming about miguel- you couldn't help it. your thoughts were fuddled until your multiversal watch started to beep. you held up your wrist and a little hologram of miguel popped up.. you were surprised to say the least..a little flustered too? you didn't know... i don't either.

miguel said he needed your help with something..strange but ok. you got up from your desk and made your way to his office- floaty thingamajig?– whatever the hell that floating shit is what is that?? you don't know what that thing is and it really doesn't matter.. you were thinking of anything to take your mind off of your impending doom, even if it meant arguing with yourself in your head about useless things..

you finally made it there and stepped into the open space and behold— The floating rock of shit and stuff, and there he was his beautiful muscled back facing towards you. you're lucky he was facing away from you because if he was looking at you, you would've pissed yourself. deadbutt.

how do you let him know you're here without sounding weird? this is hard, talking is hard, shouldn't have to be this hard. You should learn sign language.

"you gonna stand there or come up here and help me?"

Goddamn doesn't he sound beautiful. you don't say anything and web yourself up to his platform. because youre a simple person you made a simple mistake and missed your footing when you landed and almost fell back. almost. miguel grabbed your waist and pulled you back up towards him. he did this slowly, drinking you in with his eyes, slowly dragging them across your figure. his grip on you was heavy and tight. when you were standing upright you took him in as well, god hes just so huge and delicious. you never got opportunities like this, ever. you were never around him long enough to just stare at him and admire him. you guys were staring at each other for a while with his arm, still around you radiating a hot warmth.

you were a simple person, you went with the punches and the rolls so when miguel leaned down and brought your lips in for a kiss you went with it.. not like youd oppose to kissing him anyways. the kiss was slow and steady at first but gradually got more and more intense. sooner or later you were on top of the control panel on his platform. you were trying to keep yourself quiet, little squeaks and whimpers came out of you as miguel nipped down your skin.

he grunted as he ripped open your suit to gain access. you let out a loud gasp and said his name out of shock.

"keep saying my name hermosa, i like it when you say it that way" ("beautiful")

you let out a soft moan as he talked to you, his voice was laced in lust his want for you practically dripping off his tongue. he pushed your panties (oo lala) to the side and slid his finger gently down your wet slit. he let out a short huff, his breath fanning on your heat.

"que linda carino" ("so so pretty darling")

his sweet talk might as well been enough to make you cum. he closed the space between him and your mouth, his tongue and lips working wonders on your clit. you tried your best to keep quiet, biting down on your lip to silence yourself. your hand found its way into miguels hair and you pushed his face further into you causing him to moan. it sent shivers up your spine and made you finally moan out. miguels big hands wrapped around your thighs and he pushed them closed, oh miguel likes to be squished... he looked up at you. this man cant get any prettier, he was soaked in your juices and the light from the orange screens beside you glistened oh so nicely against his skin.

you were done being quiet, miguels feasting got more and more intense there was no point in trying to stay quiet. your legs tightened around his head making him moan and grunt more. his tongue and lips working wonders, hitting all the right places. you threw your head back and let out a very vocal moan, pushing miguels head down. he slurped on your juices loudly and sloppily before getting up off his knees and wiping his mouth clean.

he stared down at you with a proud smirk on his face, he enjoyed staring at you twitch with your blissed out face.

"gotta get you cleaned up, now don't we mi novia?" ("my girl")

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑

. yes i know it's wednesday, i'm sorry lol i was working on this last weekend and then didn't finish it??? idky but i finished this so i hope it's alright, i'm still getting a bit used to writing smut /~\, erm anyways hope you guys liked it and i used google translate again so idk how accurate the spanish is lolll, i also have a few series i wanna start so stay tuned (if you're willing lmao) for those~♡

. masterlist | rules and fandoms | taglist |

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑

#miguel o'hara #fanfiction #atsv miguel #x reader #miguel spiderman #characters x reader #across the spiderverse #marvel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel atsv #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel smut #the miguel effect #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse

[beeptheboo]

i just wanna be YOUR sigma.

🐺🐺🐺🐺😡😡

#beep yaps

[shintin]

The Wacky Widow's Woes

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Comedy one-shot

Summary: In a twist of fate, the most obnoxious person on Earth, Gojo Satoru, appeared by your hospital bed. Clearly, the universe had a wicked sense of humor.

Word count: 5k.

Genre: comedy, fluff, yapping (Jujutsu Kaisen au).

Warnings/Tags: humor, no angst, whipped Satoru Gojo, bitchy reader, a lot of jokes about chapter 236 of the JJK manga (my personal healing process), mention of Kitkat, prepare for Gojo's nauseating love for his wife, who's probably sick of him.

Notes: I hope you laugh your ass off while reading this.

You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.

On a very, very, very dull autumn afternoon, we find ourselves in a hospital room where its fancy ass curtains are just letting in enough sunlight to cast a gloomy, eerie glow.

There, on the bed, lies a woman who seems to have become one with the medical equipment—or, better to say, a high-tech octopus. Wires and tubes sprout from her body like overgrown vines, connecting her to an orchestra of beeping machines. It's like a twisted version of a modern art installation, where chaos and order collide in a symphony of medical mayhem.

The woman, blissfully oblivious to the cacophony surrounding her, snores away, blissfully lost in dreamland. It's almost comical how she manages to find solace amidst the tangled wires and the chorus of beeps. One might wonder if she's dreaming of a magical place where the cables turn into candy canes and the machines play cheerful tunes instead of somber heartbeats.

The lighting in the room sucks, perhaps to match the mood or new architectural ambiance design. For fuck's sake, who knows! Shadows dance across the walls, conspiring with the flickering fluorescent lights to create an atmosphere that's equal parts unsettling and strangely fascinating.

As if to bring a touch of irony to the scene, a sad excuse for a vase sits on a nearby table, barely holding onto life. Its wilted flowers, once vibrant and alive, now resemble a bouquet of autumn hues gone horribly wrong. It's a symbolic reminder that beauty is fleeting, just like the woman's health, and that even in the darkness, there's a twisted kind of beauty to be found.

The room carries the unmistakable scent of sterile cleanliness, mingled with a hint of despair. It's the kind of smell that makes you want to open a window and let in some fresh air (read jump out), but alas, in this hospital room, fresh air seems like a distant memory.

Well, hold on to your hospital gown because here's a plot twist for you! Picture this: you've been envisioning this serene hospital room, reading it in all its autumnal glory, and guess what? The woman lying on that bed, surrounded by beeping machines and tubes, is none other than... drumroll... you!

Yep, you're the star of the show, ready to wake up and face your second stroke. But hey, don't worry, it's not going to be as boring as your room décor. No, no, life has decided to throw you a curveball and add a dash of excitement to your hospital stay. Who needs a peaceful recovery when you can have a stroke sequel, right?

So get ready to jolt awake and embrace the chaos! Remember, even in between unexpected events, a good sense of humor can be the best medicine. Laughter might not cure your condition, but it can certainly make the hospital experience a little more bearable. So, chin up, brave stroke survivor! Your story is about to take an exciting turn!

Well, well, well.

As you wake up from your beauty sleep, feeling as if you've been smooching a cactus all night, the machines around you decide to unleash their inner DJs with a symphony of beeps. How thoughtful of them to create an auditory masterpiece that grates on your nerves like a tone-deaf choir. Ah, music to your ears, right?

But fear not, the brave warrior of hydration! You are on a noble quest to conquer the desert that has taken residence in your mouth. Summoning every ounce of strength (and probably some residual grumpiness), you muster the strength to ascend from your pillow fortress. With your hand gracefully reaching out for that tempting glass of water, victory feels within reach.

Your hand hovers mid-air as if suspended by an invisible force, frozen in a moment of pure disbelief. Just when you think the universe couldn't possibly play a more mischievous trick on you, there he was—sitting on the couch like he owns the place—the one person you would rather avoid more than a clown with a pie in hand. Seriously, is this some cosmic prank show?

Your eyes widen in disbelief, your heart skips a beat, and you can't help but let out a little groan. It's like the universe is trying to test your resilience, throwing you into this hilariously uncomfortable situation. Oh, the irony!

You: Hell no! What the fuck are you doing here?

Right in front of your very eyes sits the epitome of style and charm—a man sporting a white shirt and black pants combo that would weaken fashion gurus at the knees. No sunglasses dare cross the path of this confident fellow, for his piercing ocean-blue eyes need no protection from the sun's feeble attempts to outshine them.

But wait, there's more! Let's not forget about his head adorned with fluffy white hair that could rival the fluffiest clouds. Ugh!

Satoru: Hello to you too, love!

He strikes a pose that screams, "I'm the king of this couch!" With one leg casually crossed over the other and his arms spread wide on the back of the couch, he's claiming his throne in the most nonchalant and hilarious way possible.

Satoru: Is this how you greet your beloved husband?

You: Fuck off!

With the speed of a ninja on a caffeine high, you swiftly pull the blanket up to your chest, fully aware that the hospital gowns offer about as much coverage as a single sheet of tissue paper. Yes, those flimsy garments are the Victoria's Secret of the medical world—barely there and leaving little to the imagination! And just when you thought the situation couldn't get any more entertaining, you catch a glimpse of his famous smile. Asshole! Is he peeping on you?

Satoru: Aha! The feisty spirit lives on! Missed your sassy attitude.

He grins like a mischievous little rascal who just stumbled upon a secret stash of dad jokes, except it's a porn website!

Satoru: And, of course, your perked-up nipples!

Summoning your inner grumpy penguin, you dramatically cross your arms over your chest, shooting him a glare that could make a grizzly bear retreat in fear.

You: well, Mr. White-Haired Head with a stinky smirk and eyes bluer than a bottle of Windex, I didn't miss you AT ALL!

Satoru: Why, oh why, did you dye your hair white if you claim not to miss me, baby? Is it some secret signal to the hair gods that you're ready to experience the adventure of life without my captivating presence? Or perhaps it's your way of channeling the wisdom of Gandalf and Dumbledore, hoping that your newly snowy locks will grant you magical powers to forget all about me?

You: Hold your horses, chatterbox! My hair has turned snowy white without any meddling from me. No, I didn't secretly sprinkle it with magic hair dye while cackling like a mischievous sorcerer, you idiot!

Satoru: Whoopsie daisy! You've got a point there. Did I accidentally step on your delicate feelings, wise and experienced grandma?

In a grand display of determination, you muster every ounce of strength to grab the pillow behind your back, preparing to launch it at him. Alas, it seems the strength of a thousand paperclips has possessed your hands, rendering them feeble and incapable of fulfilling your pillow-throwing dreams. The valiant effort leaves you gasping for air as if you have just completed a marathon of pillow-tossing.

Satoru: Yowai mo!

He erupts into laughter, showcasing his undeniable talent as a professional tease.

You: Cut the crapola! Spill the beans! What on earth has brought you to this neck of the woods?

With your firm tone that could rival a drill sergeant's, the machine begins beeping faster than a sugar-rushed hummingbird on roller skates. It's as if the beeps are making their best impression of a hyperactive jazz band, matching the frantic tempo of your skyrocketing heart rates.

Satoru: I'll be rolling on the floor in laughter if you drop dead from the sheer intensity of your anger, Granny. Let's be real; finding inner peace is way more beneficial for you in the long run. Just saying!

You: Satoru!

Satoru: Yep, that's me. Breaking hearts and taking names. Can't a poor soul like me simply pay a visit to my dear wife on her deathbed?

You: Hell to the no! You can't just waltz in our life whenever you please! Sorry, but you lost that VIP visiting privilege when you—

Satoru: Oh, and on that note, could that charming chick who graced you with her presence earlier be our beloved daughter?

You sigh, exasperated, and gently rub your forehead as if trying to coax that headache into submission. Ah, the joys of a headache that seems set on conquering you before any actual sickness does. With a dramatic sweep of your hand across your face, you channel your inner drama queen and then grab your neck.

You: Oh, please, for the love of all that is awkward, just tell me that you didn't try to work your "smooth moves" on her.

Satoru: I was this close to making a move, you know? She's like a spitting image of when I was head over heels for you! It's like you've managed to clone yourself or something. Should I be worried? Did you secretly stash away all my precious genes and hoard them for your own amusement? Well, I guess I can't blame you for wanting to keep all those sperms to yourself! But seriously, she doesn't look like me at all. I am hurt!

He pouts like a baby, forever stuck in his eternal state of immaturity, but you aren't about to let that deter you. With an air of defiance, you casually lean against the hospital bed board, gazing intently at the serum making its grand entrance into your veins. Oh, and that obnoxious machine chiming away? You can't help but wish it could just shut up.

You: It's actually better for her, you know. At least she doesn't have anything that serves as a constant reminder of her absent father, who couldn't even be bothered to be present during her birth!

Your words are like a sarcasm waterfall, cascading with vicious wit. You've mastered the art of tongue-in-cheek remarks, and while you're fully aware of their potency, you couldn't care less. It's like you've got a license to sass, and you're not afraid to use it, even if it makes the world say, "Well, ain't you a delightful ray of sunshine!"

Satoru: Let's not paint the picture as if I had some glamorous options! Nope, I was bestowed with the honor of being the designated problem-solver, the one expected to handle it all while gracefully tiptoeing through—

You: Oh, pretty please! If it's not too much trouble, continue your reign as the honored one through heaven and earth, while sparing me from any additional bouts of annoyance. I must say, it's quite the talent you possess—being both honored and a master of irritation. Quite the balancing act, I must admit!

As you clench the blanket in desperation, that rebellious needle gleefully plunges itself into your hand. Fuck unexpected pain! And there, decorating your arm like a chilling masterpiece, are the bruises—trophy marks from your encounters with the needle army. Who knew injections could become an avant-garde art form? With tears welling up and the air growing thinner, it feels like the room is leaving you gasping for breath just to have a twisted sort of fun. Bravo, universe, for your fucked up sense of humor! A standing ovation for this macabre spectacle.

Satoru: Love?

You: …

Satoru: Baby?

You: …

Satoru: My Wondrous Whipped Cream Warrior, the Caramel Crusader, the Sprinkle Spritzer, the Marshmallow Maestro, the Treat Tornado, the Sugar Rush Superstar, the Jelly-filled Joy Bringer, and the Sweetness Sorceress who turns my world into a Never-ending Dessert Buffet! The Honeyed Pussy of—

You: WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT, SATORU?

You are wheezing like a chain-smoking asthmatic, desperately gasping for air, and his attitude is about as helpful as a wet matchstick. You and the mysteries of poor life choices! What possessed you, in that twisted moment of madness, to willingly plunge into the depths of infatuation with him? It's a dark, twisted enigma that not even the Grim Reaper could decipher.

Satoru: Are you still mad?

As you tilt your head, there he is, looking at you with those big, blue eyes, like a lost poppy desperately trying to win the "Most Heart-Melting Flower" award. What a sneaky trickster! He knows exactly what he is doing, employing his secret weapon of irresistible gazes, and darn it; it works like a charm! You can't resist the powers of those eyes, and you reluctantly surrender, cursing his effective tactics while secretly admiring his diabolical brilliance. Well played, Mr. Blue-Eyed Mother Fucker, well played.

You: I never stopped being mad at you!

Satoru: Fair, but you have to know that—

You: Spare me the creative excuses, please! You pulled off the greatest magic trick of all—knocking me up—and then poof! You disappeared into thin air, leaving me with a growing belly and a bewildered expression. Good job, Houdini!

Satoru: You're welcome, baby. But you've got to cut me some slack here! My job description practically has "Accident Enthusiast" written all over it. It's not like I wake up in the morning, rubbing my hands together, thinking, "Oh boy, I can't wait for another mishap!" So, let's blame it on my occupational hazard, shall we?

You: Oh, well, then, thank you so much for gracing us with your presence again! You chose to go down that path because, of course, you believed you were the one and only capable being in the universe. And oh, how lucky we are that you decided to leave me and our daughter behind. It's truly heartwarming to see you saunter back into our lives after years like it's just another casual stroll in the park. I mean, who needs a father figure during precious moments like birth, first words, and first steps, right? Clearly, you had more important things to attend to. Our daughter has grown up and gone through school, and I've had the pleasure of explaining why her dad couldn't be bothered to pick her up like those "normal" dads. Graduation, dating, first job—she did it all without you, and we couldn't be more grateful for your consistent absence. Now you have the audacity to—

You start coughing, and each painful gasp feels like your lungs are being ruthlessly ripped apart, leaving behind crimson stains on your once immaculate sheets and hands. And there he stands, towering tall, as handsome as the day he first stole your heart. It's just not fair that he still looks so good while sickness has mercilessly drained the life from your weary soul. He approaches you, the lingering scent of vanilla clinging to him, a bittersweet reminder of what you once cherished but now resentfully long for.

Satoru: Take a sip of water. Do you want me to help you?

Oh, he's all worried now, isn't he? But honestly, after enduring all that post-him misery, you're not about to let him off the hook just because he's offering a glass of water. Come on, you might be a little dumb, but you're not "drink-water-and-forget-all-the-pain" dumb! Nice try, buddy, but you'll need more than H2O to wash away the mess you left behind.

You: I DON'T NEED YOUR GODDAMN HELP! How about you kindly take a flying leap back to wherever you've been hiding all this time? I'm sure you've perfected your disappearing act by now. And don't forget to leave behind a trail of glittering resentment as you go, just to keep things spicy. Ta-ta, farewell, and may you step on a thousand Lego bricks on your way out!

Satoru: Listen up, partner in crime! I've had enough of leaving you to your own devices. It's been tough for me, too, and I sincerely apologize for piling on the hardship. But I learned my lesson! Starting right this very moment, I'm making a solemn vow never to ditch you again. Consider me your loyal sidekick, ready to tackle life's challenges together, even if it means enduring endless reruns of your favorite TV show or subjecting myself to your cooking experiments. We're in this for the long haul, love!

You use the sleeve of your flimsy, ridiculous gown to clumsily wipe away the blood from your mouth, all the while shooting him a perplexed look. Seriously, how on earth does he still manage to gaze at you with those doe eyes, all lovey-dovey, when you're rocking the vampire-on-a-sunlit-day aesthetic?

You: So, you decided to grace me with your presence just because I'm sick?

Satoru: Yes.

You: I see how it is! You're not here because you missed me, huh?

Satoru: Uh-oh, am I about to witness another round of your infamous anger? But hey, before you explode like a volcano, let me enlighten you that I didn't write the rulebook on how things work. Nope, not my area of expertise. Turns out, the universe didn't consult me when setting up the whole system. It seems they left me out of the committee meeting where they decided the rules of life. Classic!

You: Does it hurt?

Satoru: It hurt me badly because I snapped in half like a Kit-Kat bar. And no, there wasn't a delicious wafer filling in between, just pure pain and emotional wreckage.

You: Come on, Satoru! This is not the time for your quirky sense of humor. I mean, seriously, I saw your guts out in the open, and to top it off, ants decided to take a leisurely hike on them.

Satoru: TV producers really went all out with the graphic details, huh? Sure, I appreciate high-definition viewing, but did they need a close-up of my stuff? Talk about taking reality TV to a whole new level! I hope they provided a warning. Note to self: avoid snacking while watching shows that involve anatomical explorations!

You: SATORU!

Satoru: Alright, alright, no need to get serious! Can't a man crack a joke about his own death around here? Fine, I'll hold your hand during the whole thing. You know, I once spouted that cliché line about dying alone, but let's face it, that was a load of nonsense. Nobody goes down that final road solo. It's like a grand exit party!

You: Oh, really? So, you had some company, huh? Well, you know what they say: ignorance is bliss. I don't need the details, and my imagination can take a wild ride all on its own

Satoru: Jealousy looks good on you, love.

As he bends closer, his breath tickles your lips, making you wonder if he had onions for lunch. With a dramatic flourish, he grabs your chin as if auditioning for a cheesy romance movie. And then, like a vacuum cleaner on turbo mode, he plants a kiss that sucks the air right out of your lungs. It's like indulging in a dessert buffet filled with marshmallows, caramel, and insulin shots. Who needs a thrill ride at an amusement park when you can experience a sugar rush of epic proportions? You may be risking diabetes, but hey, at least you'll be leaving this world with a sweet tooth satisfied and an unforgettable, albeit comical, memory of that last smooch.

Unfortunately, after what feels like a fleeting eternity, he decides to break the kiss. As your eyes meet, you can't help but sneak a glance downwards, wondering if his pants harbored any surprises. Alas, it appears that either he's a master of disguise or ghosts have taught him their spectacular talent for concealment. Sneaky whores!

Satoru: Are you ready to go?

Oh, snap! Once the horniness fades away, reality hits you like a ton of bricks. Holy shit! How did you manage to forget about your daughter? Leaving her behind is definitely not the best parenting move. Time to snap back into responsible mode and give that little one the attention she deserves. Parenthood: where forgetfulness meets a reality check!

You: Will she be okay?

Satoru: She's our little munchkin. She'll be alright.

You: I want to see her for the last time.

Satoru: You can see her whenever you want.

You: WHAT?

He scratches his head, messing up his undercut, desperately trying to dodge eye contact like a game of social hide-and-seek.

Satoru: Ops! Did I just spill the beans on one of the perks of the afterlife? My bad! My master plan was to witness that priceless guilty expression on your face when we reached the pearly gates. Imagine your shock when you realized you blamed me for no reason, only to discover I had a front-row seat to all your shenanigans during all those years! Oh, the things I've seen! I know how many times you've touched yourself thinking about me! No judging, though! And yes, I know you secretly fumed when our little bundle of joy uttered "Dada" before "Mama." Don't worry, I won't tell a soul... except, you know, all the other souls up there. It's the ultimate celestial gossip!

You: WHAT? YOU KNOW EVERYTHING? THEN WHY THE FUCK YOU ASKED IF SHE'S OUR DAUGHTER?

Satoru: First, just to tickle your pickle. Second, as I cunningly planned.

You: You're still a brat!

Satoru: And you're still as beautiful as the day I lost you.

You: Smooth words, my friend, but let's not kid ourselves. I won't buy into any deceit. I'm old, wrinkled, and sick. Time and disease are killing me, just as you hated. Meanwhile, you continue to flaunt that glorious chiseled chest and those rock-hard butt cheeks.

Satoru: Thank you, ma'am, for keeping my ass in your thoughts. Speaking of which, I must confess I've made some boneheaded decisions along the way. Opting for death in the name of someone else can seem like a breeze compared to the complexity of choosing to live for them. So, kudos to you for being the badass who faced life's challenges to honor my memory.

You: I hope this is not just a dream.

Satoru: We can give it a try and see for ourselves.

As Satoru reaches out his hand, something extraordinary unfolds—the machine starts beeping. You look at the device, noticing that the time between beeps gradually increases. But then, your gaze shifts to your cherished spouse, the man whose absence has left an indelible void within you. The man with whom you would have fearlessly confronted doomsday on that fateful December 24th in 2018, had it not been for the fact that you were carrying his last trace of existence, a precious legacy nestled within your very being.

You: You feel so warm.

Satoru: Some things never change.

His hand gracefully slides towards your waist, triggering a chain reaction of chaos. Those pesky wires and tubes that were so dutifully attached to you? Well, they decide it's time for a break and go on a wild unplugging spree. It's like a rebellious dance party of freedom for those little connectors! And just when you thought things couldn't get any more exciting, your feet are about to touch the chilly floor, ready to embark on an unplanned adventure.

You: Hold up! Fetch my wheelchair for me!

Satoru: You don't need it anymore.

As you place your feet on the floor, you can't help but chuckle at the fact that your knees manage to hold up, allowing you to stand upright. The machines emit a continuous beeping sound, indicating a flat line on the monitor. Suddenly, the door swings open, and a troupe of nurses storm into the room. They swiftly gather around your motionless body lying on the bed. One nurse examines your vital signs, another administers an injection into your vein, and a third retrieves a machine to deliver cardiac shocks in an attempt to revive you. Witnessing these intense moments, you hold Satoru's hand tighter.

You: I don't want to come back.

Satoru: Are you sure?

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes and trickle down your cheeks as you gaze at him.

You: Yeah. I've spent more time living with your memory than I've had the opportunity to live alongside you.

Satoru's grip on your hand intensifies like he's determined to etch his touch into your very being. He lifts your hand delicately, planting a tender kiss upon it. Drawing you closer to him, he envelopes you in an embrace, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. With gentle affection, he presses a kiss upon the crown of your head, leaning his head upon yours.

As teardrops trickle onto your head, you find yourself clinging to him desperately, as if trying to hold onto the fragments of a shattered existence. In that agonizing moment, the harsh reality of his unfulfilled roles crashes down upon you like a relentless wave. He has endured the torment of being a husband bereft of a wife, a father denied a child, and a sensei forsaken his students.

Satoru: I will never let go of you anymore.

You: Is this just another one of those "oops, my bad" promises? You know, like when you swore to be to hold me for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health?

Satoru: Heyyy! I held you till death do us part. I even remember, the night before my, um, grand finale, I held you so good that you had spread your legs, moaning my name and begging me to hold you harder.

Just as you are ready to break free from his grasp and deliver a well-deserved bonk on his clueless head, the scene takes an unexpected turn. Your doctor rushes into the room and towards your bed, barking orders left and right, and proceeds to administer yet another mysterious injection into your poor, defenseless vein.

Deciding to redirect your attention, you avert your gaze and catch sight of your reflection in the nearby window. To your astonishment, your hair has magically reverted to its former glory, defying the clutches of time. Wrinkles? Vanished as if a skilled magician performed a grand disappearing act. You're suddenly transported back to the good ol' days of youthfulness. Bewildered, you inspect your once-bruised hands, only to find them as flawless as a newborn's.

You: Satoru? What's—

Satoru: I know, right? It turns out one of the unexpected bonuses of kicking the bucket is that you get to rock your sexiest form once again. So, brace yourself because I won't behave when you sashay around in that gorgeous drop-dead gown. I can't keep it in my pants till we arrive and I start making cream pies and babies with you!

You: Oh, my goodness! Does it actually work in the afterlife as well?

Satoru: You're referring to my... um, dick? Let me tell you, it still has the same old magic, if not a little extra pizzazz! It's like a fine wine, aging gracefully and delivering peak performance in the afterlife. Who knew there would be such perks beyond the grave?

You: No, idiot! I mean babies!

Satoru: How should I know? I made sure to wear a condom during my frisky encounters with angels.

You can't help but release an exasperated breath, causing your ears to turn as red as a tomato in a sauna. The thought of giving him a good old-fashioned strangling and sending him off to the after-afterlife has you chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

Satoru: Would it tickle your funny bone if I threw caution to the wind and played a game of "heavenly roulette" with unprotected encounters, potentially earning myself some out-of-this-world STD souvenirs?

With a masterful brow raise and a world-class eye roll, you are all set to deliver the ultimate "exit stage left" move. But he pulls off the ultimate surprise maneuver and hits you with the "Hold up, wait a minute" move. He has a secret superpower to freeze you in your snarky tracks! Goddammit! Those puppy eyes again.

Satoru: I was joking, okay? I just jerked off while watching your showering or self-exploration activities. I mean, fingering yourself while calling my name. That's it! Okay? Also, we should have a talk about that dildo you named Hollow Purple!

You: So, it seems you shamelessly watched everything, hm?

Satoru: Yes. Absolutely! I had a lot of spare time to slay, and, hey, let's not divert our attention from the Hollow Purple subject, you dirty little mouse!

You: God! Kill me already!

Satoru: Why? You're just itching to infiltrate the kingdom of my pants, aren't you?

You: You know what? I've had a change of heart. I'd rather try my chances with cosmic sickness than spend an eternity with your delightful company!

Satoru: Goodness gracious! You and your fiery temper! How on earth did you manage to cast a spell on me, making me fall for you?

You: It's common knowledge among our friends that everybody should bow down to your shameless expertise in the art of begging!

Satoru: Is that so?

He displays a smug smirk, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Satoru: Well, we can ask when we see them.

Your eyes go from their regular setting to full-on "wide-angle lens" mode, capturing the world in all its wide-eyed wonder. It is as if someone presses the "zoom" button on your peepers, revealing a comical level of astonishment.

You: They are there, too?

Satoru: Oh boy, buckle up for Nanamin's epic rage when he discovers our fashionably late entrance!

You: Well, chop-chop! Time to hit the road! We wouldn't want to unleash the wrath of the entire afterlife just because your chatty ass decided to go on such a long monologue!

He leans in and gently kisses your forehead, intertwining his fingers with yours as he guides you towards the door. As you both stand at the doorway, you cast a lingering gaze upon the nurses and doctor, who seem to have thrown in the towel on their attempts to revive you.

Satoru: I can't wait to spook everyone alongside you. You'll forever be my always.

Author's Note: I had an absolute blast writing this.

@enchantedforest-network 🤍

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