hum this is not bad

Writers block?

This is going to sound nuts. But, writers block is a bitch and the only way to get past it is to write. I follow a lot of prompt accounts and I suggest you do it too. If you can’t summon anything to say read these plots and just work out your writing muscles!

Remember to take a deep breath and trust your self. You can write shitty work and edit it later but you can’t edit nothing.

When you feel yourself getting back in the zone begin working on your main project. What I do is find a way to take the prompt and use the characters from my novel and put them in that situation. It allows me to work through the block but still work with my main work.


Just write your main work anyway. I mean that sounds odd too but it seems to work a lot for me. Just think about the situation and just write words even if they’re bad.

Put on your favorite song, hum the hell out of it and put your attention on writing only. Get yourself a drink and put yourself in that place. You know the one.

The place that’s untouchable by reality. The one that only you can reach. Lock yourself there until you’ve overcome this episode of self doubt. Which is really all that writers block is. Your skill is still there. I promise. You just have to overcome the fear. Remember why you started writing in the first place.

Best of luck with your writing and I sincerely hope this helps.


Klaus x Reader

Warnings: Dom!Reader, Sub!Klaus, enchanted chains

Requested By Anon

“(Y/N) this is not amusing.” And almost naked Klaus shouted and you giggled as he tried to wriggle free.


“I think it is.” You hummed and straddled him. “I’ve caught the big bad hybrid.”


You ground against him, making a low grunt escape him as you used the enchanted chain for leverage, loving the fact that a simple spell left him unable to escape the chain so that for once you were in charge.

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anonymous asked:


eliza schuyler headcanons for when her s/o is sad:

  • she notices something is off about you after spending time around you for a little bit
    • she doesn’t ask but she goes out of her way to do little things for you
    • she doesn’t think you notice and she just trying to help out more in general, especially is she sees that something is frustrating you
  • if she notices that you are just getting progressively worse, she leads you to the bedroom if you guys are alone in your apartment
    • you guys lay together in the bed in complete silence and in complete darkness for a little bit 
  • she never asks whats wrong because she knows that you might not want to talk about it right now and that you will tell her when you are ready to
    • after laying in silence for a little bit you know she just wants to know if you’re okay
  • if you start to cry she wraps her arms around you and starts to hum
    • her humming relaxes you most of the time unless things are really bad 
  • if things are really bad, she holds you and rubs your back and she reassures you that everything is going to be alright, even if it doesn’t look that way at the moment
    • she also repeats ‘i love you so much’ several times and she tells you that things are going to get better and this feeling won’t last forever
  • she convinces you to let her leave the bed for a second so she can make you some hot chocolate.
  • she kisses you a lot and she tries to get you to laugh or smile because that would be enough. all she wants to do for the next couple of days is make you smile and laugh and remind you that she loves you so much because she truly does
Newt taking care of you after a bad day

Originally posted by dmentr

Knowing that something was wrong the moment he saw you.

He’d stroke your arm, ‘are you alright sweetheart?’

He wouldn’t push you to tell him what was bothering you, instead he’d knew that you would let him know in your own time

Drawing you a hot bath, and sitting on the floor next to the bath while you soaked

Offering you his lap to sit in and cuddle while he reads to you

Stroking your hair while he hums a little tune

Trying to take your mind off of your bad day, by telling you about some of the antics that his creatures had gotten up to that day.

Making you a cup of tea or hot chocolate

Taking you into his case, both to distract you and so the creatures inside could offer you some comfort as well

Pickett cuddling your cheek

Snuggling up in bed together, newt wrapping you up in a fluffy blanket

Drawing patterns on your back  

Placing soft kisses on your forehead, cheeks and nose


I’m sorry for spamming all of you with Newt, but you should all know by now that I have a real problem with an addiction to cinnamon rolls.

Have a great day and be safe

anonymous asked:

Hunk teaching Keith how to cook.

“I should’ve known…”

“What?” asked Keith, busy trying to cook something that wouldn’t make Hunk shake his head in despair.

“How long did you live alone, almost a year?”

“Yeah. But I’m not really good at cooking. It was never important. I could make do with sandwiches.”

Hunk carefully took a sporkful of the… whatever it was. He hummed thoughtfully. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

“Really?” Keith frowned disbelievingly.

Shiro chose that moment to enter the kitchen, realised it was Experiment Time, and rightfully turned on his heel to head back out.

“No no no, Shiro, come here for a sec!”

Keith made ‘abort mission’ faces at him, but Hunk just ushered Shiro back inside, offering him a spork full of food. “I just tried it, it’s ok, even if it needs work.”

“It is,” Shiro said in wonder, after tentatively trying a bit.

“See, I told you so.”

“But you’ll still teach me, right?”

“Of course, of course,” Hunk lightly pushed Shiro back out. As he left, he shot Keith a conspiratorial wink. “It needs refinement, it needs practice, and most of all, it needs imagination.”


“Of course. You need to be exact, but know when to mix it up, to see the connections between the ingredients, their properties, their tastes…” Hunk realised he’d lost Keith somewhere between ‘practice’ and ‘mixing it up’. “Or… I can let you bask in the glory of your success today, and start the actual lessons tomorrow after training?”

“Yes, that would be nice.” Now, if only Keith could take his eyes off Hunk’s hands as they expertly cut up what would become another amazing meal, he could be even happier. He wondered to himself how that could be applied to swords, knives, and blades in general. Maybe he could offer his own lessons to Hunk one day…

Santa:what do you want for Christmas?

Me: my college to be paid off

Santa:don’t be silly kid now tell me what you really want

Me:fine I want for the real Percival Graves to show up on the next films (all of them) and a back story for him along with what happened to him while he was under Grindelwald’s watch and if there was a battle between them that leads up to his captured I want it also it better be EPIC as fuck and no down grade to his character I want him to be a real bad ass

Santa:hum! So about that college payment how much was it?

anonymous asked:

Mochi and MM cuddling stuff pretty please? ;w;

It took a while for the scientist to finally open up to concept of cuddling, demonstrating one’s affection for the other by huddling for warmth. And even then, he’d only given in due to the priest’s constant whines to try it out, having never experienced “cuddling” before.

He made a sigh of defeat as two over-sleeved arms wrap around the Mastermind’s waist from behind him. He didn’t protest this time around, not even when he felt Mochi pulling him in closely. Mochi gave a beaming smile as leaned his head on Add’s shoulder’s.

“Hmpth. What do you think?” Add scoffed, sipping his coffee casually.

“Hm… well, I’d say you’re soft… and fluffy…” Mochi hummed, closing his eyes and relaxing. “…Not bad for an antique like you, if I say so myself.”

Add bit down on his lip in response to those words. “You ruined the mood, damn it.”

“Says Mr. Ancient, whose drinking caffeine while I bothered to spend some quality time with a relic.” Mochi retorts. “Are we really dating? Or are you actually cheating on me with that cup of coffee of yours?”

“I might be, depending on how much you annoy me.”  

Their first time cuddling wasn’t quite romantic in the end, but both admitted they enjoyed the act in the end. Both agreed to cuddle once again, so long as Mochi didn’t bring up his caffeine addiction and Add promised not to cheat on him so visibly with the drink.

Batsy Batsy Batsy (part two)

warnings: swearing
requested by @keya168 description: part two of continuation of picture imagine, “Imagine getting kidnapped by Batman and the Joker coming to save you, not noticing Harley’s jealousy towards you.”



“Hey baby,” The raspy voice of your lover bounced around the cave, and you felt the tension in Batman’s body next to you. “He didn’t hurt cha, did he?”

You pondered this for a second, looking down at the bruises on your wrists from the manacles and feeling more bruises all over. “I’m a little beaten up, J, but it’s not too bad.”

He hummed lightly as he stepped into a beam of light, the moon illuminating the green of his hair, the blood spattered on the strands. “Oh Brucey, Brucey, Brucey. You, sir, have made the…biggest mistake of your life. Did you honestly think a few…hooligans in uniforms could stop me? ME? I’m offended, truly.”

“If you come any closer, Joker, I’ll slit her throat.” Bruce growled, tugging you tighter to him and knocking the breath from your lungs, causing you to whimper. “Back away, or she dies.” “Ah ah ah…you think I came here alone?” The laugh that you fell in love with boomed from him as he stepped ever closer. “I came with the one, the only, Harley Quinn!” A giggle from behind both you and Bruce almost gave you relief…if it weren’t for the fact that you could feel yourself being pulled backwards, and it wasn’t by Bruce. “I’ll kill her, Joker!” Batman yelled gruffly, the metal of the knife starting to pierce your skin. “It only takes a flick of the wrist!” As you and Batman suddenly toppled backwards and through the waterfall, Joker leaped forward and grabbed your wrist. If it werent for Batman’s hand falling against your neck, you would have escaped unscathed. As it was, the knife slit an even line upon the skin of your throat, and Joker’s eyes widened with a feeling you had never seen on him: fear. He pulled you up and into his arms, racing up the stairs and into the Wayne mansion, out the doors and into the back of that Lamborghini. Harley hopped in the driver’s seat, and from your spot in the backseat you could see how pleased she was with herself as she started the car. Through the blurriness in your vision, you looked up at the terrified pyschopath above you, who held his shirt to your bleeding throat. “Stay with me, Y/N,” He growled as he stroked your cheek with his right thumb while the other helped to keep his shirt to your wound. “It’s not very deep, not enough to kill you, do you understand? Remember what I told you that night when we broke into the bank? You can’t leave, not unless I say so. And I say no.” You kept your eyes open, staring into the deep blue of your lover as he yelled at Harley to drive, drive to your apartment, to go faster. You smiled slightly as he picked you up to cradle you in his arms while still holding the shirt to you. “You’re mine, doll, and you’re not leaving me yet.” ___ You woke on silk sheets, in your room that opened into your apartment that you shared with J. You attempted to call out for him, remembering the events of the night before, but when you tried a terrible pain bit into you. You grasped your throat in agony as you heard quick footsteps from the kitchen. “No no no, baby,” he said as he strode into the room with a glass of whiskey. “Lay down, don’t speak, or it won’t heal properly.” As he laid you down you admired him, as you always did when he looked like this. Shirtless, loose pajama pants, green hair wet and messy. No one knew that his ‘lipstick’ was actually tattooed onto his lips, or that he had a weak spot on his neck where if you kissed it just right, he’d lose himself for a second. They didn’t know about the late night talks, or that deep down inside, he had a heart, and it beat for you. He sat down next to you and took a drink of the amber liquid, you lifted your hand to your wound again and felt the tiny, neat stitching. He noticed and smiled wainly, as relaxed as a pyschopath could be. “I stitched it up for you. Couldn’t be losing my baby girl, could I?” You smiled up at him and shifted so that you could lay your head on his chest, breathing in and smelling his scent of peppermint and something unique that you could never name. You felt safe while J, as gentle as he had ever been in his life, kissed your head. He did love you in his own twisted way, even if he never said it. You didnt notice Harley outside the double doors, peeking in at the one she loved and the one she hated, heart sinking as she realized that that would never be her. ___ A/N: how was that? i know i made j a little out of character at the end but:))

shitty karaoke nights with seijoh

together with @singami we present to you, shitty karaoke nights with seijoh: 

  • oikawa is actually really bad at singing (he can hum but singing? nah) but for some reason he can NAIL any britney spears song 
  • matsuhana gives shit for oikawa singing lmao 
  • oikawa forces iwaizumi to sing my heart will go on together with him 
  • iwazumi can sing REALLY WELL but he’s the really shy/tsundere type of singer but he can kill any beyoncé song 
  • matsuhana singing cheesy love songs eg: my heart will go on, eternal flame, time of my life unironically because they can
  • kunimi is a rap god. he can rap anything and everything in the most monotone voice ever. 
  • kyoutani has the softest singing voice ever, like a gentle baby and is probably a sucker for any bubbly songs 
  • not only is kyoutani a sucker for bubbly songs, he can sing an disney songs without missing a single beat (this boy probably memorised every single disney song) 
  • MATSUHANA SINGING CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIGHT (disney ver.) @ iwazumi and oikawa 
  • kindaichi is that one awkward singer (poor bab) and he provides moral support instead and was lowkey shook when he heard kunimi rap
  • oikawa is a lightweight drinker so within two bottles, he’s probably drunk singing really sad love songs while draping his arm around iwaizumi
  • matsuhana recording everything. everything. 
  • yahaba, that one guy that always chooses pop songs to sing and tries to get everyone into the mood (and it works_
  • seijoh third years will always perform spice girls. and backstreet boys. 
  • watari, probably has a killer voice, but too shy to perform so he sits with kindaichi and they probably end up playing some card game by the side 
  • oikawa notices and they end up having to perform in front of everyone and surprisingly, their voices go really well and everyone is just shook
  • matsuhana is that one couple that sings their special song and starts making out and everyone’s like: GET A ROOM and they really do 
  • everything is recorded on this shaky home video camera and everyone has leverage on each other
Fight It

This fic was inspired by this amazing render made by @commander-hot-pants​ as well as a prompt from her! I’m such a big fan of her work. She was absolutely wonderful to work with and I hope to work with her again!

You can also read this on AO3 here!

It was very late and the Normandy was quiet, except for the constant hum of the engines.

Garrus had a bad habit of staying up far later than the rest of the crew. He enjoyed the peace and relative quiet of the SR-1′s lower deck at night. Ashley and Wrex were typically noisy during the day, Wrex constantly upgrading his weapons and Ashley writing mission logs on her computer, thinking out loud most of the time. Garrus was so close to being done calibrating this assault rifle, but truthfully, he was taking longer than he needed to. The alone time kept his mind off of-

Shit. Garrus thought.

Shepard exited out of the elevator and their eyes met, both of their expressions a mix of excitement and exasperation.

“Oh, hey Garrus.” Shepard said slightly awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. “I didn’t think you’d still be down here. I came by to put that new scope on my assault rifle. I um, figured you’d be done with it by now.” Her eyes darted between the floor and Garrus’ eyes.

“Hey Shepard. Yeah, sorry about that.” Garrus looked over at the gun, grateful for the visual distraction. “I’m just about finished. Took me a little longer than I expected. You really put this thing through the ringer, heh.” Garrus laughed nervously, angry at himself for his uncharacteristic choice of words.

Shepard feigned a small laugh in response.
“Ha, yeah. I guess I did.”

Shepard smiled. The sight of it caused Garrus to inhale a little too quickly and he began to cough. He cleared his throat, deeply embarrassed that he was unable to keep his composure around her for longer than a few seconds.

“Should I come back later?” Shepard asked, despite her eyes begging for the opposite.

“No!” Garrus said a little too quickly and a little too loudly. He ordered himself internally to keep it together.

“No, no.” He said, more softly this time. “I’m almost done anyway. You can go ahead and grab your scope, I’ll just be another minute.”

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The Evil AU therealmcgee and I collaborated on is still on the brain: 

Oh, Grey Warden,
See what you’ve done. 
‘Hero’ of Ferelden, 
Your judgement has come.

Our children are gone:
daughters and sons.
Soaked are our hands
In the blood you let run.

To live or die? 
The King will decide. 
To live or die? 
King Theirin will decide. 

The buildings are broken,
Graves covered in frost.
The Archdemon’s slain
But was it worth the cost? 

Can you be forgiven 
For the things you have done? 
Or will your head roll
As your life pays your toll?

Oh, Grey Warden,
See what you’ve done. 
‘Hero’ of Ferelden,
Your judgement has come.  


Heated - Isaac Lahey Imagine

Writers Note: crap ending I’m sorry. I’m just really in love with Isaac Lahey.
But anyway, Enjoy!

You turn up at his door with your best dress, complete with your favourite sparkly lipgloss.
He opens it with a stained shirt and skinny jeans under an apron that says:
You raise your eyebrows as he beckons you through the door, and he grins sheepishly at your reaction.
‘Wow, Isaac. How appropriate.’ You drawl sarcastically, hiding a smile as you walk to the kitchen.
He shuts the door, following you with a smirk, ‘Worth a shot.’ He says with a wink, and you have to bite your tongue so you don’t laugh.
You breathe in the smell of food, humming appreciatively, suddenly thinking that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let Isaac cook for you.

Isaac whistles as he walks to the stove, mixing the food before turning to you.
'You look stunning.’ He sighs, eyes fluttering over your body in appreciation.
You chuckle, thanking him with a kiss which he gratefully accepts.
He hums into your mouth, pulling you close to him as he kisses you gently.
'I’ve missed you all day.’ He murmurs, his hands travelling down your back.
He pulls you up so you’re sitting around his waist, and he sits you on the kitchen counter, standing between your legs.
You resume the kiss with a chuckle, realising how little you get to do this with him. He kisses you slowly, his hands on your bare legs, the sensation enough to make you weak.

Suddenly you hear a rapid beeping, and Isaac yelps, running to the stove in horror.
'OH SHIT.’ He exclaims, turning off the oven in desperation, and flapping a towel at the overhead beeping smoke alarm.
You pout, walking to the stove and peering into the pan, seeing a lot of black.
You hold back a laugh at Isaac flapping around desperately, sighing in relief when the beeping finally stops and the smoke clears.
Isaac turns to you with a frown, 'that was your fault.’ He pouts, and you gasp at the accusation.
'How was it my fault!?’
'You distracted me.’ He whines, and you grin in response.
He sighs, 'shall we just order a pizza?’

You laugh, taking his hand, 'Maybe in a while.’ You smirk suggestively, pulling him towards you for another kiss.

Honeymustard Collection 14

Man I’m gonna need some quality sin after this much fluff.

“Ow – fuck!”

Papyrus glanced up from the pot of boiling water to where he’d left Red chopping carrots for their dinner soup. The smaller skeleton had dropped the knife on the cutting board, his thumb stuck in his mouth and his brow knitted in pain. Papyrus took a short step to Red’s side and lifted a hand to his wrist, giving it an asking tug.

“C’mon, let me see,” Papyrus said.

Red rolled his eyes and took his thumb from his mouth, showing Papyrus the thin line of rising blood where Red had slipped up and nicked himself while chopping.

“Hmm,” Papyrus hummed, turning Red’s hand over in his own, “not too bad. Let me just…”

Papyrus lifted Red’s hand and took the smaller skeleton’s thumb in his mouth, sucking softly and rolling his tongue across the bone with a playful grin. Red flushed and yanked his hand back, smacking his elbow on the edge of the counter in the process.

“The fuck you doing?” Red growled, cradling his arm. “Ya weirdo.”

Papyrus chuckled, turning the stove off and plucking at the hood of Red’s jacket.

“Sorry, sorry – but seriously, let’s put a band aid on that or something.”

Red grumbled but followed the taller skeleton into the living room anyway, sitting down on one of the couch’s armrests while Papyrus fetched the first aid kit. Papyrus opened the little kit Sans had put together during one of his “emergency preparedness” phases and blinked in surprise. Damn, they were running low on supplies. Funny, he remembered stocking it not too long ago…

Papyrus glanced toward the living room where Red sat examining his thumb. Oh…right…

Papyrus raised a hand to the back of his neck and scratched at the vertebrae absentmindedly. Damn, he’d almost forgotten that first night. It’d taken most of the supplies in Sans’s little kit just to patch Red back together with how badly he showed up on the doorstep…

Papyrus opened the front door with a furrowed brow, nose catching a whiff of burnt magic in the air. He’d heard an almighty crack that had nearly made him drop his cigarette on the living room floor and thought it best to investigate. It was late – almost too dark out for him to see much, but the light in the house cast a cone of visibility over the snow just far enough for Papyrus to spot a…lump?

No, a body. A body curled in the snow.

Papyrus’s soul jumped and he took a few hesitant steps outside, the cold air rolling over him and making him grateful for his hoodie.


No – that didn’t make any sense. Sans was in Waterfall with Undyne. But it was so weird – even curled in on itself the figure on the ground looked an awful lot like his little brother. Same build, same weight, same height. Papyrus took another few steps and halted suddenly.

Burning. He smelled burning. Like…sulfur burning, and magic burning, and fire burning all mixed together. It smelled…dangerous, to put it mildly. Dropping his forgotten cigarette in the snow, Papyrus squatted down an arms-length from the body and summoned a bone, giving the figure a solid, wary push with its blunted end.

The body unfolded and…huh – well, damn. Another skeleton?

Something clicked in the back of Papyrus’s skull and he frowned. It’d been a while since he’d looked into alternative timeline theory. But that cracking sound, and that godawful smell, and the state of this “other” Sans all seemed to be pointing toward…

Papyrus blinked, his soul missing a beat.

Blood? Was that blood in the snow?

Shit – that was…a lot of fucking blood. Already the snow beneath the other Sans was haloed in a pale pink that rapidly transitioned into a bright, soaked red. The small skeleton wasn’t moving and the more Papyrus’s eyesight adjusted to the poor lighting the faster his soul thumped. Angry red scrapes covered most of this other skeleton’s face and the one shoulder of his jacket was damp and black from whatever wound it covered. His mouth was slack and his eye sockets dark, the only movement being the stirring of the ragged fur on the hood of his jacket in the slight wind.

Papyrus glanced over his shoulder at his audience of shadows and snow. This was…bad. Or rather, just – not right. If alternative timeline theory wasn’t so much of a theory after all and this other skeleton really was from another timeline the implications were…complicated. Papyrus wasn’t sure he could fix this…

He watched the smaller skeleton’s slightly exposed ribcage for any sign of movement.


Well…maybe he wouldn’t have to. What would happen if this other skeleton was dusted in a timeline that wasn’t his own? Would he reset back to his original timeline? Would he just…cease to exist? Papyrus contemplated the body for a long moment. If Sans were here he would insist they bring this strange monster inside and attempt to patch him up.

Papyrus tilted the bone toward the curled-up skeleton’s throat, adjusting his magic so the blunted end became a sharpened point. Maybe it was a good thing Sans wasn’t around for this. It would probably be best if he just put the poor monster out of his misery quickly…

The bone tapped something hard – something not bone. Papyrus cocked his head questioningly, trying to get a better look at the other skeleton’s shadowed face and throat. Was that…a dog collar? Papyrus’s gaze flickered from the studded collar to the small monster’s face. He regretted it immediately.

Shit, he really did look like his brother. If not for the…scars and that terrible crack and all the blood…

Papyrus sighed and allowed his magic to dissipate, the sharpened bone at the other skeleton’s throat fading away into orange wisps. Stifling his better judgement, Papyrus gathered the disheveled monster up, surprised at how light he was compared to Sans’s sturdy weight, and turned toward the house. Maybe he could bring him back around. Maybe he couldn’t. Either way he wasn’t about the let someone who resembled his little brother so closely bleed to death in a snow bank.

And the first thing he was going to do was get rid of that fucking collar…


Papyrus startled, fumbling the roll of bandage tape he’d been turning over absently in his hand. Red blinked up at him, having abandoned his perch on the armrest of the couch, his head cocked in question.

“What cloud are you on, Stretch?”

Papyrus chuckled, picking up Red’s hand and winding a short length of the tape around the cut on the smaller skeleton’s thumb. Red curled and uncurled his phalanges experimentally, making to turn away, oblivious to Papyrus’s reminiscing, when he was halted by the taller skeleton looping both arms around his chest from behind and yanking him backward against his ribcage. Papyrus buried his face in the crook of Red’s neck and took a deep breath of his smoky smell, ignoring Red’s yelped protest and halfhearted squirming.

“The hell’s wrong with you tonight?” Red muttered, giving in to the other’s embrace.

Papyrus shrugged the best he could while still keeping a tight hold on Red.

“Eh, nothing. Just thinking is all. Hey, Red?”

Red grunted evasively.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Red stiffened a bit, like he usually did.

“Please?” Papyrus muttered, surprising himself with how much he suddenly felt he needed this. Red heaved an exaggerated sigh and twisted around in the taller skeleton’s arms, lifting himself up on his tiptoes in order to press his mouth against Papyrus’s.

They stayed like that for a moment and Papyrus was grateful Red allowed it. He didn’t even flinch when Papyrus kissed him twice more and laced their phalanges together. And Papyrus wasn’t sure how exactly, but he could’ve sworn that crack on Red’s skull looked a little…better…

nakamatoo  asked:

Oh and five and six because I'm a sucker for fluff ^_^

Prompts list

 #5 “I would’ve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm, and I didn’t want to wake you.”                                                                                  #6  "I’m here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses.”                                                #60 “You make me so happy.” (No PLOT just mindless fluff / Modernverse) 

 The door to her bedroom abruptly swung open, knocking over the floor lamp opposite of the door, which slammed into the computer desk near her bed– Annie jolted awake, jumping to her feet, nearly doubling over from the suddenness, her small fists poised, ready to fight any intruders.  But then she heard the strum of an instrument, and soft humming, and groaned inwardly at the bad timing.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, glaring half-heartedly at the young man who was bundled up head to toe, holding up a busted guitar. “Eren, what the hell?”

He smiled, standing at the threshold of her bedroom door, and held a finger up, bringing it down across the cords—striking a tune. Then started a familiar melody.

“Because m-a-a-yb-e, you’re going to be the one that saves m-e-e—!“ He sauntered over to her disheveled form, “And after a-l-l-l, you’re my wonder wa-l-l-l!”

Annie deadpanned as Eren continued strumming the chorus of the song. “You’re paying for my damn lamp.” She folded her arms. He winked at her as his instrumental chorus came to an end, finishing with a quick peck on her cheek.

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