#song based drabble

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

ope.. i got brainrot while driving into work again so here's a rockstar!eddie steddie blurb that goes with this song.

cw for possible refrences to suicidal ideation depending on how you interpret the lyrics (more literal or more metaphorical)

pairing: steddie | word count: 840 | rated: M

The first time Eddie tells Steve he loves him, it’s while they’re awash in the afterglow; Eddie’s still half sprawled over Steve’s bare back with his finger tracing patterns idly over his skin.

“I could trace enough constellations on you to get from here to Mars.” he says as if voicing a thought rather than to Steve.

“Oh yeah?” He snorts.

“Mmhm. And I’d love you from here to there too.”

The steady movement of Steve’s back shudders to a stop, his breath faltering. “Oh yeah?”

A new featherlight touch grazes the skin between his shoulder blades. Eddie’s lips. “From here to Mars, sweetheart.”

Mars becomes a thing between them, and between them alone; “Love you to Mars, Stevie,”, “I love you all the way back home, Eds.” or after some bigot gives either of them grief over their relationship, “Let’s just run away.”, “To where?”, “Hmm. I dunno, maybe Mars?”

So when Eddie has enough of Hawkins, when he does run, and his note is devoid of any reference to their neighboring red planet, it’s crushing.

Steve finds out from Wayne that Eddie and the boys had gone to New York, a two album contract for their band too good of an opportunity to pass up.

He’s jaded and hurt for a long time. Well into Corroded Coffin’s rise to worldwide stardom, and the feeling lasts until a headline in the aisle of the grocery store catches his eye. It screams ‘CORRODED COFFIN’S NORTH AMERICAN TOUR CUT SHORT.”, but there are more: “Frontman Eddie Munson checks in”, and “Eddie Munson: More substance than substance?”.

He and Robin are in Chicago now, running a small bookstore/coffee shop, and Jeff gets in contact with him.

“He’s okay, he’s already doing better. I figured you’d want to know.”

Jeff says it’d been getting worse and worse until Chrissy (who had long been the Robin to Eddie’s Steve, and who’s now his manager) had had enough and sent him off to get help. “He’ll be back sooner than later, I’m sure.”

The next anyone besides Chrissy hears from Eddie, it’s on the radio. A new song from Corroded Coffin’s Eddie Munson that’s nothing like anyone had ever heard from him. 

Steve hears it first when he’s preparing to open one day, that’s part of the reason why it comes as such a surprise. He has never tuned the shop radio to anything other than the mainstream channels, not wanting this exact thing to happen and hear the voice of the man that broke his heart to pieces.

“Up next, a change of pace from the currently still elusive Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin fame,” the announcer says as the song starts in behind him. Steve freezes at the name. “You heard of this guy? He and that band of his had been making waves in the metal scene for years now; and he’s reportedly been checked out of rehab for a couple months without anyone hearing anything from him. Until now.”

The song starts for real now, the acoustic fading into the background as a voice so unmistakably Eddie, his real southern twang leftover from growing up in Tennessee shining through, breaks through it.

Steve’s so floored at hearing his voice again, that he doesn’t really register the lyrics until Eddie croons out “What if I run away to Mars?”

“Mars.” Steve breathes out.

Eddie is singing about Mars.

Steve had always assumed he was forgotten. That after the years of fame and years without him, that the memories Eddie had of him would be locked away just as tight as Steve’s of Eddie were.

He can’t even continue to think about it because Eddie keeps going, “Would you find me in the stars? Would you miss me in the end, if I run out of oxygen?”

Eddie’s singing on his own, it’s just him and his guitar and his own backup vocals and he sounds so horribly sad.

Eddie’s not okay. Eddie’s not okay! Where is he? Where did he go after getting out of rehab?

Steve whips his phone out of his pocket, leaning heavily on the front counter now for support, and searches frantically for Chrissy’s number.

He’s hoping she hadn’t changed it when Eddie’s voice comes back in over his guitar, “I can't tell which way is home, I've been gone for so long..It's an empty world up here“

Steve freezes again.

He listens to the entire rest of the song there. Phone in hand, thumb hovering over the call button, and heart however many miles away to where Eddie is.

“Three, two, one, I miss you..I'm sorry I got issues” Eddie sings.

Steve finds himself thinking ‘I miss you too’ and ‘It’s okay.’

Eventually, the song ends with Eddie’s voice only. No backup instrumentals, only his voice crooning harmonically with himself 

“Would you miss me in the end if I run out of oxygen? When I run away to Mars..”

He presses the button.

“Steve,” She says in a surprised greeting, “Hi!”

“Where is he?”

star divider is from @saradika

short little part 2 here! | also on AO3

#surprise surprise noelle is writing something based on a song #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #corroded coffin #chrissy cunningham #jeff stranger things #st #stranger things #st ficlet #streddie ficlet #steddie drabble #noelle writes #steddie angst #gotta keep my place in the angstflayer somehow

[vampykween]

i used to be so obsessed with this song i forgot how much i love it, but this makes me want to write valeria so badly.

valeria garza x f!reader 18+ mdni

i just imagine you’re stuck in a dead end relationship - you’d leave him if you hadn’t been with him for so many years. he’s sweet but he’s boring and your sex life is pitiful. you just want to be with someone who excites you.

you’re out one weekend with your friends, downing shots in a too crowded club to forget all your woes when you feel like you’re being watched. and that’s when you see her.

she’s staring at you like you look good enough to eat - which is what you were subconsciously going for when you hurried out the door past your boyfriend in a skimpy little dress. not that he'd even notice, whatever game was on tv captured his attention far better than you ever could.

the woman catches your eye and tilts her at you to come over to her, you feel bad abandoning your friends, but something about her makes you want to do anything she asks. you slink over as best as you can with the alcohol in your system and she grabs your hand and pulls you into the velvet booth with her.

"what's your name beautiful?" she purrs at you and you're not sure if the flush on your face is because of the shots or the way her voice goes straight between your legs. your nerves have you stumbling over your name and she chuckles at that.

"do i make you nervous, hmm?"

"no, i-" you shake your head and stop short because she is making you nervous; you shouldn't be preening under her attention when your boyfriend's waiting back home, but also she's making a flurry of emotion thrum inside of you. the hand not gripping the glass of her drink trails up the inside of your dress, and she looks at you expectantly waiting for you to tell her to stop. slowly, her hand travels farther until it reaches the lacy thong you threw on - for what you're not sure, but maybe you secretly were hoping something like this would happen. she hums appreciatively at her discovery and rubs your clit languidly over your panties; you cant remember the last time you were so riled up and wet at such delicate touches, but you were on the verge of whining loudly and begging her to fuck you.

would you really do that? let this mysteriously alluring woman in a club, who makes you feel alive like you never have before, have her way with you right here? her ministrations don't let up, and the way you lean into her and moan softly answers your question.

"pobrecita," she coos in your ear. "such a desperate little thing. tell me what you want amor, anything, and i'll give it to you."

#mic writes #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x you #valeria garza smut #valeria x reader #song fic #im so obsessed with writing drabbles based on songs hehe #stepping out of my comfort zone not writing ghost ahhh

[aimmyarrowshigh]

JAMuary: 100 Drabbles Based on Songs (2024)

018. Pynk - Carol Danvers/Brunnhilde | Valkyrie

#jamuary: 100 drabbles based on songs (2024) #marvel #the marvels #valcarol #captain marvel #thor: ragnarok #carol x valkyrie #valkyrie x carol danvers #*g #*marvel #*marvels #*thor #*captainmarvel #*brilar #*testho #*jamuary

[milobyelo]

Maverick sees Iceman every morning.

He sees him in the blue of the petunias they planted together in the backyard two years ago.

He sees him in the blue of his favorite dress shirt that he wore on their first wedding anniversary.

He sees him every morning when he cooks french toast, his favorite breakfast food, in the pan Iceman bought him while he was at Homegoods spending an outrageous amount of money on new things for their house- despite the fact it had already been loved and lived in for 30 years now.

Every morning and every night when he brushes his teeth and has to pluck his green toothbrush out of the holder- that also holds Ice’s blue one because he could never find it in himself to throw it out despite it no longer having a purpose- he sees his husband.

He sees him in the park in the couple that walk through smiling and holding hands, enjoying each other's presence.

He sees him in the ocean, in the sky, when he sees his favorite liquor at the store, in the accent of the weatherman on channel 12, in the diner he loved to take him to, in the san diego heat, in the rain that drips down the window, and everyday when he wakes up and spends his days in the air in a cockpit teaching a younger generation the skills and maneuvers the two of them perfected together.

He sees him everyday, every hour, every minute, every second.

And he thinks he’ll keep seeing his husband in everything until the day he dies.

They’ll meet again, he doesn’t know where, he doesn’t know when; but he knows they’ll meet again, some sunny day.

#top gun #top gun:maverick #icemav #maverick x iceman #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #based on ‘we’ll meet again’ by Bera Lynn #rip iceman #canon compliant #canonical character death #sorry lol #angst #no beta we die like goose #top gun 1986 #fanfic #drabble #i heard this song and immediately pulled out my laptop and write this in 5 minutes so excuse me if it’s not good #and grammatically bad I’m not great at grammer

[xluciifer]

His relationship with Lilith was like oil and water; as much as oil creates beautiful colors when intertwined with water in their silent dance - it contaminates the substance.

She was snake oil in all her beauty and he fell deeply for the toxifying aura she produced for his senses. She was his hellfire disguised as his saving grace: the epitome to his downfall towards insanity.

He was none the wiser - a now fallen angel. And she played him with his violin of impurity. She became a ghost, the blackness that now haunts and lives in the corners of his peripherals.

7 years is a long time, and he waited, patiently; like a fool, once again. And one day - he snapped. He prayed in vain, to Her, to God once again that wouldn't hear his prayers. But ... that was okay with him.

I'm tired of holding onto you. It's time to let my pride go and learn to love myself again. I don't want to wait another day, I've waited long enough. [ ... ] I've hesitated all my life but I'm all done. I'm done running from you. Spent my whole life in your shadow, scared of who I'd be if I said goodbye and didn't have you here. [ ... ] I love you to death but I can't spend the rest of my life in this darkness; I'm done. I wish you the best but I'm not interested in giving you more of my life, I've already given you too much. [ ... ] Rubbing my face in it and treating me like I'm less than you. Tell the truth, you know I'd be better without you. Been in your shoes, don't be a fool and try to convince me that I'm the real issue when you're the root to every problem. I love you but not enough to allow you to drown the both of us. You're holding me back, you're pulling me down, you're making me hate myself. I don't want to leave, but that's what I need. I ain't got a choice, I can't just let you deceive and make me believe that I don't deserve to be loved. I am not gonna stand aside and watch you attempt to rob and steal and sabotage what little faith I have left. Haven't I given you enough? [ ... ] But I think it's time to let go and say our goodbyes. I'm gonna miss you but I'm not gonna spend the rest of my life running from you.

Running // NF

#headcanon. #drabble. #lilitophidian #toxic relationship tw #depression tw #idk how to tag this #i wrote this based off a song because i was sad

[juuuuunaaaaaooooo]

Brio Fic Week 2024 Day 3 : Write something based on a song or quote that reminds you of them

You’re my destiny. One person who will be my star

Aren’t I too late? I don’t want to hurt you. I guess I was scared.

It was my first time, so I realized it now. That you are my love.

You

#brioficweek2024 #Day 3 #Write something based on a song or quote that reminds you of them #beth x rio #rio x beth #Brio #brio fic #brio fanfic #brio fanfiction #gg fic #nbc good girls #drabble

[f-o-r-g-e-t-m-e-n-0-t]

Axel was pacing.

Phone in hand, he walks back and forth across his living room, so much so that he half expects to leave a line in the old carpet. He stares down at his phone, thumb hovering over the ‘call’ button, willing himself just to push the damn thing as a hundred questions flitted through his mind, preventing him from doing so.

Was it okay to call? Would he pick up? Would he be annoyed? Did he even have the same number still?

Axel chews his lower lip as he makes another lap around the room. Finally, with a deep breath, Axel hits the button and collapses down onto the couch with a sigh, knee bouncing as he listens to the tinny ringing coming through the phone’s speaker.

Just as he’s about to hang up out of fright, the ringing stops with a click.

“Hello?”

The voice - that familiar voice - makes Axel suck in a sharp breath, his stomach filled with butterflies as though he were sixteen again calling his crush.

“R-roxas! Hi! It’s uh, it’s me, Axel.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, a fraction of a second that feels more like an eternity. Axel worries the other man will hang up.

“Axel!” Roxas replies, sounding more surprised than anything. “It’s been awhile… what, uh… what’s up?”

He doesn’t sound angry, or annoyed. Rather, he sounds about as awkward and timid as Axel feels, if Axel’s reading him right.

“Oh, well…” Axels eyes scan the room and land on the box sitting on his coffee table. Old cardboard, bent and scuffed at the corners, the flaps opened to expose the contents inside. “I found some things of yours. Some of your summer clothes, looks like.”

Another small pause, and then a chuckle. “Is that right?” Roxas asks, his voice warming, and Axel can practically see the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Yeah, they were in a closet. I was looking for my winter jacket, actually, and stumbled across them.” Peeking into the box once again, Axel glances a pair of old sneakers, some t-shirts and tank tops, a pair or two of shorts. “That Destiny Island tank top you like is in here,” he says. He recalls exactly how Roxas looked in it too, sunlit hair and tanned skin, walking along the sand, looking right at home in the short few months they call summer.

“Yeah?” Roxas asks. “I though I’d lost it years ago.”

“I bet,” Axel chuckles. “I figure I can give them away if you don’t want them, but if you do I can mail it down to ya. You’ll just have to remind me your new address.”

Roxas hums on the other end of the line. “Right, right… here,” He tells Axel his mailing address and Axel dutifully jots it down in his notes. It’s quiet, then, both men lapsing into silence, unsure of what to say or do now that Axel’s reason for calling is taken care of. Axel chews the inside of his cheek while he listens to the clock tick on the wall and the soft staticky sound of the other end of the phone.

Then, “So… how have you been?”

Axel’s startled by the question, and takes a moment to answer. “O-oh, I’m alright!” he answers. “Staying busy, mostly. Getting ready for winter to roll in; you know it’s just around the corner.”

“I imagine so,” Roxas says with a hum. “Winters there are as cold as ever, I suspect.”

Axel chuckles. “Yeah, that much hasn’t changed. Whole town hasn’t changed much, really.”

“That right?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how it is. Lotta talk but nothing really happens. Oh, except I guess they did build that new casino.”

“Really? Never thought that would actually go through.”

“Oh it did,” Axel says, leaning back on the couch, phone pressed to his ear. “They called it Little Reno and everything! Course, it’s already got a busted light that ain’t nobody’s bothered to fix, so everyone’s calling it ‘Little Eno.”

He hears Roxas snort on the other end of the line and it makes something so terribly warm bloom in Axel’s chest. He’s missed that sound, Roxas’ laughter. More often than sometimes, he’s wondered when he stopped making Roxas laugh. When their conversations turned to arguments, and when those arguments turned to cold silences.

It’s good to talk again now. To talk like they used to, catching up, gossiping a little, perhaps. Axel tells Roxas about the latest events in town, and Roxas tells Axel of his new job, his new friends. His new life. A life Axel wishes… wishes he were a part of. Wishes he had done things differently, wishes he hadn’t dug his heels so firmly into the mud that he got stuck, when Roxas so clearly wanted more than what their little town could offer him. Offer them.

“I miss you,” he says, lips moving before his brain can catch up. “E-everyone does, I mean!”

Roxas is silent, so Axel continues, stumbling clumsily through… whatever it is he’s trying to say. “You c-could come visit, you know! I mean, I know it’s about to be winter and you never really liked winter here. I don’t care for it much either - it’s gonna snow soon, and I always think about you- I mean how much you don’t like the snow… but there’s a lotta good people here who’d love to see you again-!” He’s rambling. He knows he’s rambling. He can’t stop. “I could even hang on to some of these things for you. Some sneakers or something, you know, when-if you visit-!”

“I could probably make the trip,” Roxas says, softly, yet it silences Axel immediately. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the old place.”

Silence, again. Something between them unsaid, yet so felt.

“You should visit too,” Roxas finally adds, sounding more hesitant now. “I mean, if you want. You don’t have to-“

“Yes!” Axel says, far too quickly. Far too loud. Yes for all the times and times and times he told Roxas no. For all the times Roxas held out his hand and Axel refused to take it. For all the times Axel stubbornly dug his heels in and ignored the way Roxas slipped and slipped and slipped from him.

He can hear Roxas’ sigh of relief, his anxious, held breath leaving him. Can hear the way he smiles, soft and warm like summer.

“Why don’t you hang on to my things, then?” Roxas asks. “I’ll get them when I visit. I can even bring that winter coat you were looking for.”

#akuroku #akrk #au #prompt #drabble #once again based off a song - see link in first line

[ofmermaidstories]

phoebe and katsuki in one post oh u are evil and sick merms!!!

they are a devastating combo and i blame tiktok </3 i haven’t known peace in days because of this. i know whatever happens to me, i know it’s for the better. he was literally walking to his death and he KNEW IT!!! HE KNEW IT!!!!!!!

#ofmermaidstories-asks #i actually have a bakugou x reader drabble in my drafts based on the feelings this song gives me LMAOOO

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 268: Cardigan

Written for the nonnie who requested I write a song based on the feel of Cardigan by T. Swift.

Draco was so fucking pretty.

How could Harry be expected to think about anything else when Draco came swanning in, wearing the prettiest clothes, not a hair out of place, make up that was natural enough to make people wonder if he was wearing it or not. He was always devastated by Draco's beauty.

Draco was so fucking smart.

The Ministry officials that he used his charm on had absolutely no idea just how very bright Draco was. All they saw when they looked at him was someone young, dumb, and pretty who'd do anything to earn his place in the Political Sphere. They had no idea that the little tidbits that they gave him, as he batted his pretty eyelashes at them, were more than enough for him to absolutely destroy them.

And destroy them he did. He eviscerated them in his column of The Prophet that he wrote under a pen name. Harry could never quite figure out how they didn't connect the dots, but at the end of the day he was glad for the work that Draco did.

Draco was so fucking lovable.

It didn't matter that Draco had left him, that he'd cried and told Harry that it would never work. It didn't matter that he'd begged Harry to understand that it was all for Harry's own good. Or that he'd told Harry that he believed he'd never be worthy of Harry's love in return.

Harry loved him without reservation.

(Read more below the cut)

Harry loved him with his entire idiotic heart. He loved the way Draco used everything he had at his disposal to get what he wanted. He loved the moral compass that Draco had developed, loved the way he worked tirelessly to take down the people who were keeping their world from moving on. Harry loved how ruthless he was.

But as much as he loved those things, Harry loved him when it was just the two of them. Loved Draco when they had gone out drinking and dancing at muggle clubs. He'd loved how free he was walking down the streets in muggle London, head tilted back while he sang loud enough to wake the inhabitants in the flats above.

He'd loved him when they curled up in Harry's bed and Draco had whispered his dreams into the darkness around them. He'd loved him when Draco had curled into his arms and told him 'you're my favorite.'

'Favorite what?' he'd whispered back.

'Everything.'

Yes. Harry was well and truly gone on him. There was nothing that could make him stop loving Draco, even if he'd tried.

They were made for each other, of that Harry had no doubt.

Draco caught his eye across the Gala where he was talking to a witch who Harry knew was embezzling money from the charity she ran. The DMLE hadn't been able to prove it, but he hoped that Draco would.

Draco smiled at him then seemed to catch himself, purposely turning away from Harry and back to the woman in front of him.

Letting things like that go was always hard but Harry grabbed another glass of wine and tried to ignore the ache. Over and over, he reminded himself that he loved Draco. He didn't, couldn't, hate him.

By the end of the night, Draco hadn't come over to see him and Harry took that as a clue, that it was undoubtedly meant to be, that Draco had no interest in seeing him.

With that thought, Harry flooed home and slipped out of his dress robes and into a pair of comfortable old pajama bottoms and a hole-y tshirt. He went through his normal routine following a Ministry event, before pulling out the book he'd been trying to read when his mind wasn't too busy wandering to Draco.

The clock had struck midnight when there was a knock at Harry's door. Frowning, he drew his wand before making his way over to let in his late night guest.

He was by no means expecting Draco to be the one standing there, still wearing his lovely gala wear.

"Hi," he said. One word. That was all.

"Draco," Harry breathed in return, wondering if he could hear the way that Harry loved him. The word itself was infused with such warmth and tenderness that he felt mildly embarrassed.

Draco reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Can I come in?"

He nodded and stepped aside to let Draco through.

And just like he'd never left, Draco took off his outer robe and sent it to the same peg on the wall that he always used before wandering toward the kitchen.

When he entered behind Draco, he leaned against the wall and watched him, waiting.

Draco took in the place-setting closest to the window; a cup of chamomile tea, a stack of six ginger biscuits, and a glass of water. Harry's routine following Ministry functions, setting out the things Draco liked best while he wrote notes about what he'd uncovered. The same thing he'd done for the past year, since he and Draco first became friends and tentatively more.

"You remembered," he whispered, staring blankly at the table like he couldn't comprehend it.

He blew out a breath, "I remember everything about you."

"Not everything, surely," Draco said, turning with a little, secret smile at the corner of his mouth.

Harry pushed up off the wall and closed the distance between them until he was less than half a foot away. "Try me."

"I've been away for four months," he said, right hand rubbing over his left shoulder. "I left you. You told me I was breaking your heart," he said, looking up at Harry. "How could you possibly have wanted to remember everything?"

He closed the gap between them, resting his hands on Draco's waist and drawing him closer, "Because I love you," he murmured, kissing Draco softly.

A soft whimper brushed over Harry's lips and Draco kissed him back, his fingers clenching in Harry's tshirt.

"And," Harry continued, pressing kisses to every inch of skin that he could reach, "I always knew that you would come back."

-------------------------

read more of my drabbles

#drarry #love #break up and make up #mostly make up #soft #based on 'Cardigan' by Taylor Swift #I still think Phoebe probably does a better job at these but I'm happy to take a stab at it #I admittedly had never listened to this song before tonight #so. #hopefully i did it justice #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days

[someforeignband]

a snippet of my wlw steddie bc @hotluncheddie and @dykesteddie seemed like mildly interested so im going to be annoying about it haha

“Bad day?” Eddie asks. “It’s okay, I always cry on my birthday, too.”

“Oh gosh,” Stevie whispers, bringing hands up to her face. “You can tell I’ve been crying?” 

“No!” Eddie backpedals. “No, no, no! Nothing like that- it just- I get it,” She says quickly, hands out in front of her in defense. 

There’s an awkward pause before Eddie softly asks, “You’ve been crying?” 

Stevie shrugs for what feels like the umpteenth time that day. “Just having a bad day. Boy problems, you know?” 

Eddie scoffs, shaking her head, looking away from Stevie, up and out into the field. And Stevie wonders, for a fleeting moment, if maybe that was the wrong thing to say. 

“You know,” Eddie chuckles lightly. “I actually couldn’t have less of a clue of what that’s like.” 

“Ah,” Stevie sighs. “Lucky.” 

She’s got one of the good ones, Stevie thinks to herself. Undoubtedly, that’s why she’s so sure of herself. 

“I don’t know about all that,” Eddie laughs. “But, sure.” 

There’s another awkward silence, just the sound of their spoons scraping at the inside of the little aluminum tin.

-

love u all xoxo

#it's based on quite a few songs... thinking abt linking a playlist hm #there's also a county fair involved #because i said so #wlw steddie #stevie harrington #eddie munson #steddisteddie #steddie drabble #ej writes !!!

[mlmmom-evy10]

The tapping of fingers reverberated through hallways, thunderous, rhythmic.

Running as far away from the sound as you could, you twisted and turned in the maze of halls, hoping to escape the centipede.

It was gaining on you.

Your legs were growing weaker with strain.

Don’t let it see you.

#centipede #weird core #cryptidcore #weirdcore #Dreamcore based #dreamcore #idk what core #horror #short story #Drabble #snippet #? #song based #amalgam #unnatural #supernatural #suspense

[aimmyarrowshigh]

JAMuary: 100 Drabbles Based on Songs (2024)

019. Girls Like Girls - Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop

#jamuary: 100 drabbles based on songs (2024) #marvel #bishlova #bishova #black widow #hawkeye #yelena x kate #kate x yelena #*g #*marvel #*blackwidow #*hawkeye #*flopug #*haiste #*jamuary

[andthatisnotfake]

11 Madirosh please!

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees, Madirosh!! I so ship them! Not an Omar song this time, but a Young Royals one nonetheless.

A light breeze blows some loose strands of hair over her face, sticking them to her purple lip gloss, but Madison tucks them behind her ear. She sits on a clear patch of grass to the side, in a shadowy area, sipping a beer as she watches her friends (and her friends' friends) dance to loud music, drink, and make out, having some fun before the next school year starts. She wasn't even supposed to be here yet, but she'd wanted to arrive a week before classes so she could get more acclimated this time, and Felice had insisted that she stayed at her house, claiming there was more than enough space (which was very true, the house was huge). And then Felice had told her she was having an end-of-summer-break party, just for some of their friends and classmates. She hadn't lied, but their friends had also brought more friends, and right now there were about twenty people mingling in the garden under the dim light of torches and moonlight. Not a lot by any standards, but enough to make her feel a little out of place. She loved a party as much as the average teenage girl, but she couldn't help but feel a bit lost when they all spoke a language she still didn't fully dominate and knew about things she'd never even heard of. She'd heard before that one could feel lonely even in a room fool of people, but she hadn't really understood what that meant until she'd moved to Sweden.

"Hej," someone says behind her, startling her enough to spill some beer on her dress.

"Shit!"

"Sorry!" The girl behind her says, in English. Madison remembers her as Simon's friend, who had been introduced to her in the beginning of the party, but whose name she'd already forgotten.

"You're the American girl, right?"

She nods. "Madison."

"Rosh."

"You can speak Swedish, Rosh."

"Nah, it's fine. I actually should practice my English, it's not very good."

Maddie smiles. "I think it's quite good, actually. But thank you. And don't worry, that's on me for not noticing you there. And it's an old dress anyway." She looks down at the stain forming, making a disgusted face when she touches it and her fingers get sticky. "I should probably get some water on it though."

"Here!" Rosh moves quickly, grabbing a water bottle she'd apparently been drinking from and and pouring a bit over the stain, then lifting her t-shirt to dab on it with the hem.

Madison's eyes flick to her toned stomach and she remembers hearing something about Rosh being an athlete. Well, it clearly showed.

Apparently she's been staring for a tad too long, because Rosh clears her throat and drops the t-shirt. She feels herself blush, but nods.

"Thanks, Rosh."

She gets a raised eyebrow and a flirty smile in return.

"You're welcome, Madison."

"Just Maddie will do."

"Then you're welcome..." Rosh's eyes drop to her mouth and she licks her own lips before looking up again, eyes fixed hers "...Maddie."

The way she says her nickname makes a shiver travel up Maddie's spine and she gulps.

Clearing her throat, she looks up at the other teenagers.

"You, uh... wanna dance?"

Rosh smirks. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd mind helping me practice my English a bit more. I can't quite roll my tongue the right way."

Maddie chuckles. She can most definitely teach her that.

#Madirosh #Young Royals #Sorry this took so long - I was super busy and tired and also a bit sick #anyways send me a number and a pairing and I'll write you a drabble/ficlet based on the song the number corresponds to on my Spotify wrappe #my fics

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

22:45 ー HANEMIYA KAZUTORA. tramps like us, baby, we were born to run.

"run away with me.” kazutora asked far too easily and definitely too out of nowhere while you sat at the world’s longest red light. there was no destination either of you had in mind, however. you were simply meant to enjoy some nighttime air before heading back to your cheap apartment when, 30 minutes in, he asked that question.

no, it more of a light-hearted demand.

you shot him a weird look over his shoulder that you knew he couldn’t see from his position on the motorcycle you both sat on. "that’s a question you ask your girlfriend when you’re 15, not in your mid-twenties”

“there’s an age limit on running away now?” at kazutora’s snicker, you rolled your eyes in amusement. 

“there is when you have jobs to go to on monday and rent and bills to pay.” you reply knowingly with a small grin.

even in the dark, you could perfectly visualize his sandy-colored eyes looking back at you fondly as best he could. the busy was dying down in this part of tokyo far from the streets of shibuya or roppongi that never seemed to know rest. there wasn’t even any vehicles at this intersection you were waiting at besides your own. “then don’t think of it as running away,” kazutora hummed smoothly in contrast to your logic. “think of this as part of our late night ride.”

“a late night ride to where?”

“dunno.”

“we’ll run out of gas.”

“we’ll worry about that when that happens.”

“i’m not pushing your motorcycle to a gas station, tora.”

“then you can sit” kazutora met you tit for tat, voice light yet distant. “i’ll push and you can sit on my bike the whole time”

“is something up?” you asked at last. it wasn’t as if you never went on late night rides. you went quite often together, especially on fridays which you say as much. “but you never ask anything like this. are you okay?”

for a moment, the only response you received were the soft sounds of his stagnant motorcycle. “i dunno.” kazutora murmured after a few heartbeats passed. “i just wanna go. you, me and this bike. i wanna see how far we can get. i know that... we can’t just up and leave everything but... i wanna go with you. sorry, guess i’m not really making any sense, huh.”

kazutora trailed off as a light breeze picked up and you looked ahead, your mind strangely heavy with thought yet void of it at the same time.

you looked past the tall buildings painted in the skyline by the gold and red glow of the streetlights and the sound of cars honking in the distance. inhaled the warm evening breeze that was tinged with the cool that hinted at autumn’s inevitable return as it caressed your cheeks.

sunlight filtered through an open window, the smell of the sea on the wind from the seaside town you stumbled upon.

tora’s motorcycle, out of gas and rundown, only being used as a place for the neighborhood strays to nap on.

walking in the dawn sun before the town woke up.

the impracticality of it all with the most likely outcome being a push of shame to the nearest gas station before making your way home. stopping by a family restaurant for a much needed breakfast. you’d be tired and frazzled, maybe a bit annoyed that the recklessness caught up to you... but you didn’t doubt there would be grins on your face at that restaurant while you downed your coffee and hotcakes. 

“we’re never doing something like this again” you’d say unable to fight back a grin of amusement and disbelief. amused that it happened, in disbelief that you did it.

all the while tora would push back his black and blond bangs, chuckling. “yeah that was pretty dumb of us. i thought you were supposed to have the braincell when i got stupid ideas at almost midnight.”

it made you want to cry.

god i love this man.

“then let’s go.” you whispered into your boyfriend’s back as your grip around his waist tightened. any sense of rationality you had was pushed aside by the rush of emotion in your body. lifting your head and resting it on his shoulder, you kissed his nape. 

once, twice before kissing his cheek as the traffic light turned green.

“take me somewhere with you.”

for my good buddy @cafedanslanuit​ who unfortunately got covid. despite her love for porco and yuuta, kazutora is has a death grip on her heart. so i figured why not have her wake up to smth nice. i was trying to go for a pensive... feeling. that not quite sad yet strangely emotional feelings you get late at night when your mind wanders but combine that with overwhelming love for your partner. idk if i nailed it but i hope you enjoy it!

#look she's writing #timestamp #kazutora x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev #hanemiya kazutora x reader #this was my first time writing a timestamp drabble and i loved it #i should write more #yes i listened to born to run while i wrote this #i wanted to write smth based on the vibe of this song

[potatothemoose]

Winter Winds (Litter London With Lonely Hearts)

A short writing exercise based on Winter Winds by Mumford & Sons and the author's emotions and struggles with seasonal depression. Reblogs greatly appreciated.

Boots against a hardwood floor, creaking with age in the cold. The pine barrens feel even more barren in winter, especially when you're all alone. Bonesaw wished they didn't stand in such a situation.

The cold made it so that Rudy couldn't make it to the cabin anymore, plunging Bonesaw's already lonely section of the woods into a sort of isolated lull. Looking out the window felt like gazing into an unknown pocket dimension, away from time and space and everything else.

The doctor should've been used to it by now. Being a monster over 600 years old was the kind of thing that forced you to get used to being alone. Maybe if they already had no friends, it would've been easier, but the bright eyes of the people they'd given pieces of their heart to still shone in their mind, taunting them. If it weren't so dangerous to go closer to town, Bonesaw would've marched right down there to go visit their friends... but towns nowadays tended to disagree with the cryptid from the woods.

Oh, well.

Sometimes your close off your heart, and sometimes your heart closes itself off. Even if they were in the face of warmth and laughter, Bonesaw didn't feel so sure they could get their heart to turn back on. Winter always hollowed it out and froze it shut like an icy jack-o'-lantern, leaving them to spend the winter's thinning of the veil alone and depressed.

But at least the wind still howled outside, perhaps filled with the cries of other lonely hearts asking to be loved even in the cold. The pine trees, glazed in snow, trembled like the figures of people moving ever-forward in search of warmth and safety, clutching at frigid air with fingers frozen at the tips. Bonesaw knew well what frostbitten fingers looked like.

The flickering light of the fire in the fireplace and the popping of the embers finally called Bonesaw away from their forlorn reverie, tearing their eyes away from the window and back towards the flames. Summer and autumn were no more, days dwindling into nights, and they would just have to accept that for the time being. All things turn, all things change, all things shift. That's just how it is.

Time to turn off their emotions for the season and sink into the shadows of the firelight, no longer pondering the stars outside.

#writing #seasonal depression #writers on tumblr #short story #drabble #original work #original character #plague doctor oc #plague doctor sona #cryptid #monster #winter #song based writing #mumford and sons #song inspired

[ianabanana22]

Moments

Pairing: You/Reader & Everyone Genre: Angst, Death, Grief

The brothers knew it was only a matter of time. 

You had been growing weaker by the day, your breaths labored and heavy, as if breathing itself was a Herculean task. Your skin was clammy and cold, as if you’d already set one foot in Death’s door. Your vision had become blurry, barely seeing anything and your eyes had lost its usual sparkle. 

It pained them to see you like this: frail, fading, slowly being tugged away from existence by a harsh reality they refused to face: ephemeral human life. The more they saw you suffer, the more they wished they could turn back time, back to the moments filled with happiness and laughter, moments inside the safe bubble of their home. 

With them. With you. 

And the person you used to be. 

You with your boisterous, contagious laugh and energy that had no bounds. 

You with your uncanny sense of what each of them needed, giving them all the love and care and barely leaving anything for yourself. 

You with your unwavering bravery and immense bullheadedness to deal with whatever came your way. 

They miss you. 

Miss how you used to drag them all to watch movies on Fridays, as everyone huddled together comfortably, the atmosphere warm and homey. 

Miss how you rounded everyone for game nights on Saturdays, the vibe fun and light, waves of laughter bathing the room in a golden glow. 

Miss how you were the linchpin that held everyone closer than ever. 

 They’d always been a family. They were brothers after all. And yet, before you came along, they never did really realize what the word truly meant. Or what it entailed. 

Empathy. Openness. Honesty. Understanding. Unconditional Love. 

You taught them all that and so much more. And for that you’ll always have an irreplaceable space in their hearts. You were their family. That’s why as they gather around your bed, watching you take your last breaths, they feel nothing but immeasurable, intense sorrow and it takes everything in them not to let the tears stinging the corners of their eyes fall down their cheeks. They won’t cry. They’ll be strong for you. 

They’ll be your pillar the same way you had been to them. 

Suddenly, you slowly raised your wrinkled hands, joints cracking as you do so, beckoning them to come closer. And then they lay around you, arms and hands draped gently over a part of your body, careful not to cause you any more pain. “It was a good life.” You croaked, your voice hoarse and breathy and that’s what finally broke the brothers’ valiant façade. 

Silent, bitter tears began streaming relentlessly down their cheeks as they choked back agonizing sobs. “Thank you for being a part of it.” You wheezed, your lips pulling up into one, final sad smile as your eyes gained a flicker of the brilliance they once had, before they closed, never to open again. 

Outside the window, the sun had begun its ascent over the horizon, dazzling and pleasant, signaling the start of a sweltering summer and yet the brothers paid no heed to it for an eternal winter had settled into their ancient hearts, one that was cold, bleak and inescapable. 

If only they could turn back time. But they couldn’t, not without deliberately going against their Lord, and thus learn to live without you they would. 

Even if it was impossible. 

Even if it was torturous.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me demon brothers #old age #mortality #death #grief #angst #obey me angst #reposted from twitter #old work #ficlet #drabble #based on Moments by 1D #yes that song