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Across The Spiderverse + Trivia

i don’t know how to explain it, but this video is so actor!falco. 

gabi likely coerces colt into providing her with something to embarrass falco with and sends it to everyone. the poor boy. it becomes a running joke among the cast to break into song and dance whenever he and annie are in the same room. everyone wants him to recreate the video and he adamantly refuses.

it definitely comes up in an interview later. 

their favorite parts of the braiding process

summary: lmfao it’s just the title

genre | includes: headcanons, sfw, black reader, gn reader, established relationship

characters: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, sasha braus, jean kirschtein, connie springer, levi ackerman, hange zoe, erwin smith, historia reiss, ymir (not fritz), reiner braun, annie leonhardt, bertholdt hoover, marco bodt, miche zacharius, nanaba, zeke jaeger, yelena, onyankopon, pieck finger, porco galliard

author’s note: got my hair done a few days ago and i’ve been experiencing insane aot brainrot so here we are. ignore the way these got progressively longer lol. this was fun and i have some other ideas, maybe college won’t kill me before i post them. enjoy and lemme know what you think :)

the take down – you can’t really place them. they never want you to take your old hair out, but are all giggly with the scissors when you assert that it’s time. they can’t help it. even with all the build-up on your scalp, they think the return of your natural hair is something out of a fairy tale. they love the curl pattern left in your hair after weeks of being in braids and they love separating the braiding hair from your own. the scene stays the same: you’re on a pillow on the floor between their knees while a shitty hallmark romcom plays on the tv in front of you. both of you are armed with rattail and wide tooth combs, mentally preparing for all the shedding and breakage you’ll be brushing off the couch for the next few weeks. it’s routine at this point for them to jokingly hover the open scissors over the part of your braid where you know damn well your hair is and ask if they can cut from there. it’s also routine for the scissors to get snatched right out of their hands as you proceed to cut way below where your hair could logically be because “after all the time i spent fighting people in walmart for the mielle oil, i better have a natural 40 inch buss down under all this xpressions”. 

EREN, ymir, PIECK, zeke (cut your hair like an inch from the scalp while removing butterfly locs one time and, to this day, you’ve never seen someone more terrified), nanaba, YELENA, onyankopon

the wash – they’re probably more excited about your hair getting washed than you are. they miss giving you scalp massages without having 6 weeks worth of gel and leave in conditioner left under their nails. what they didn’t get was why it took so long. it probably sparked an argument because they never spend that much time washing their hair, so why do you? it wasn’t until you made them watch as you and your detangling brush fought with your curls under the stream of water and nearly blacked out from the heat that they realized why the water bill was so high. to save your aching arms (and hopefully some extra cash) they offered to wash your hair for you. they nearly waterboarded you the first time, but with practice, they got better.  now, nothing relaxes them more than lathering shampoo through your hair and occasionally spraying water in your face when you look too at peace. they buy you a salon wash basin for christmas so you both can stop crouching over the tub which is great, but where the fuck are you supposed to install it?

MIKASA, erwin, sasha, REINER (has the cutest smile when you sigh in response to him scratching that one spot on your scalp), hange, jean, annie, porco

the blowout – they don’t realize, especially if your hair is type 4, that detangling during the wash is only half the battle. it doesn’t matter how silky smooth it got in the shower, the second the blow dryer is out, it all goes to hell. i hope you’re not tenderheaded because the fight between them and your curls is long and painful. but it's a battle they refuse to let you fight. god forbid you try to blow out your own hair– they get sooo upset. which confuses you because the way they grumble under their breath while passing the comb attachment through your hair has you convinced they’re only doing it to work out some unresolved stress. the truth is, they just know you’ll forget to use heat protectant and wind up frying your hair. and they know how upset you get when you realize some of your roots didn’t get stretched. so they’ll (gently) muscle their way through the most stubborn tangles any day if it means getting to see you smile at how healthy your hair looks and how much it has grown since the last time you saw it like this. they love how your hair now floats around you. they don’t love how sore their arms are. “damn, no wonder you’re so strong.”

connie, PORCO, BERTHOLDT, armin, miche, MARCO (probably cries when the comb extension breaks in your hair)

the beauty supply runs – the simultaneously dull and fluorescent lighting casts an otherworldly glow over the aisles of gel, deep conditioner, kankelon hair, and wig glue. for some reason, there’s always a childlike gleam in their eye as they scan the wigs along the wall. you have to hold their hand every time so they don’t wander off. it’s not like the store is big–you could probably read each other’s lips while standing on opposite sides–but if given the freedom to roam, you’d be leaving $250 poorer than you planned for with bags full of stuff you absolutely don’t need. “babe we have matching bonnets, we don’t need them in zebra stripes too.” if you can convince them to stick with you, they’re snatching every bottle you pick up out of your hand. before you can even begin questioning them, they’ve already started reciting information about the ingredients of the products and why it isn’t good for your hair’s porosity. you can only stare dumbly as they hand you a better option to try because you have no idea when they would have had time to do any of this research. the favorite part of the trip for both of you is picking the color you’re doing next. the average passerby would think you’re trying to decide which wire to cut so you don’t detonate a bomb with how hard you both scrutinize the packs of color 30 and 350 in front of you (ginger is always your color)

HANGE, marco, mikasa, ONYANKOPON (will give you the dirtiest look if you so much as glance at a cantu product), pieck

the parting – this is the first step of the actual installation process that you involve them in. before they used to sit next to you on the couch as you did it all yourself, committing every movement your fingers made to memory and keeping you company. they would frown as you cursed your lack of ability to see perfectly behind your head and parted the same section over and over again. they wanted to offer help, they really did, they just didn’t trust themselves enough. so when you both started working from home and you didn’t care what your parts looked like, you let them try. it wasn’t perfect the first time, or the second. for about a month, you rock faux locs with a scalp that looks like the drawing on your fridge gifted to you by your 5 year old nephew, but that’s what beanies are for. rough start aside, they pick up on it quickly. they figure out how much gel you really need for your braids to look neat and don’t overdo it. wielding the comb with confidence, they cut through your hair like butter. soon they’re parting your hair into boxes, hearts, arches, diamonds, and whatever else you could imagine like moses did the red sea. “babe do you think it would look good if i make one of them look like my initials?”

ARMIN, eren, levi, ERWIN, ZEKE, historia (got really good really fast… hisu who do you fuck in the city when i’m not there?), bertholdt

the braid down – they’re in awe of the dexterity of your stylist's fingers as she adds pieces of braiding hair to your own and hardly looks down while nimbly braiding all the way to the ends. they sit through all your appointments–locs, press and curls, protein treatments, wig installs–but nothing fascinates them as much as the art of a simple braid. they ask all sorts of questions about what your stylist is doing and even start putting hair on the rack to make the process go smoother. they pay even more attention when you do it yourself because they aren’t worried about distracting anyone from doing their job. before long, they know almost everything there is to know about your braids except for how to do them. and they want to know so badly. the opportunity arises when you both relocate to a new city and all the “stylists” are charging $300+ for smedium mid-back knotless braids. you’d do it yourself, but you broke two fingers during the move-in process and aren’t skilled enough to work around it. you think you need to coach them through the process, but are pleasantly surprised when they get the grip right the first time and are halfway down by the time you’ve picked what movie trilogy you want to watch. turns out they’d been watching youtube videos and taking lessons from your old stylist so they could do it for you one day. at least that’s what they tell you, they really just like popping your head with the comb when you move from where they positioned it. “ow! stop pushing my head around” “keep your head still and i’ll think about it”

LEVI, yelena, YMIR (does the thing where she talks on the phone with it tucked in between her shoulder and her ear while braiding at top speed, like just put it on speaker), onyankopon, mikasa, armin, ANNIE

the finished product – they are NOT here for delayed gratification. they want to see your hair done and they want to see it now. they get more restless than you do and they’re not the one getting their thoughts and dreams braided for 5 hours. like why are they more upset about the infamous last braid that gets split into 4 more than you are? “man what the fuck are you so upset about? this is not your scalp??” it’s nice having them around regardless. whether or not they’re helping with the actual braiding, they’re your biggest supporter. they’ll grab you (and the stylist if you aren’t doing it yourself) mcdonalds, boil the water to seal your ends, oil your scalp, mousse your hair, trim the flyaways, sweep up the stray hair, etc. knowing how tired you are, all the time consuming clean up is their self-allotted duty. but once all of that is done, they get to do what they’ve been waiting for: admire you. without fail, the second you stand up they’re taking pictures from every angle, showering you with compliments (ginger really is your color), peppering your head with kisses, but most importantly, just looking at how beautiful you are. you outdo yourself every time and they tell you as much, even if it embarrasses you. 

HISTORIA, connie, pieck, hange, SASHA, reiner, JEAN (the heart eyes this man has for you…and don’t get me started on the sketches he makes of you with every new style you get. he is SO whipped)

© mamasbakeria 2023. do not repost, translate (without permission), or modify

JEONGYEON ♡ SET ME FREE 230317 twice @ music bank

this trend of people recreating rihanna’s superbowl performance but with actor!eren, actor!mikasa, and actor!armin. i’d like to think the roles are interchangeable, but armin wants to be rihanna so bad and eren’s an honorary waistline warrior fs

ofc the whole cast recreates this one too

in which you unexpectedly reunite with high school sweetheart!touya

cw/tw: pro hero!touya who is messy, touya’s pro hero name is blueflame, drug use mention, alcohol use and mention, reader is a detective/cop, bar fight woo, use of guns, mentions of blood, mention of a grandparents death, angst and a little fluff, not beta read

wc: 4.9k

a/n: this is a follow up to my ua student!touya piece. you can read this without reading that but it’s more fun if you dooooo wink wink.

the number five hero is slightly beefier than he was three years ago; still lean in comparison to the likes of his hulk of a father or his broad shouldered little brother, but the biceps outlined by his tight fitting hero suit are not the same ones you once habitually wrapped your arms around. his old snake bites have been exchanged for a single hoop on the right side of his lip. long gone is the eyebrow piercing you used to hold between your fingers as a threat when his teasing would become a little too obnoxious, and in place are two additional studs on his nose that join the original to form a triangle shape. his snow white hair has been tainted by the tips, now dyed black. you think it looks like he’s been sweeping the soot out of a chimney; you wonder if the same idea has ever crossed his mind. he always did have a tendency to beat you to your own joke.

Keep reading

id bark if he asked 🤷🏼‍♀️

in which you intern at the endeavor agency to learn the ropes but you learn to love ua student!touya instead

cw/tw: gender neutral reader (referred to as pretty + beautiful), touya has his old personality kinda, death of a relative, making out

wc: 5.4k

a/n: as far as i know shiketsu students don’t do internships in canon but the fantasy must live on

during the first semester of your first year at shiketsu high, you’re offered an internship at the endeavor agency. you initially approach the offer with skepticism, already familiar with the number two’s notoriety, before coming to the conclusion that you’d have to be a complete idiot to pass up the opportunity. dealing with the stick shoved up endeavor’s ass for a short period of time was a small price to pay for long term success.

it’s through this internship that you meet the famous todoroki touya, in all his high school boy glory. son of the big man himself, one time winner of the ua sports festival; wasn’t so lucky the second time, though you’d think otherwise with the size of his massive ego. you loathe the way he has that stupid smirk plastered on his face 24/7, the way he always he always has some witty comment stored in his pocket. how he always tries starting shit with you, mentioning the ua-shiketsu rivalry like you’re some school patriot or something. of course you would’ve chosen ua over your military boot camp of a school if you had the chance. does he think you enjoy wearing this stupid cap all the time? maybe he should consider transferring since he likes stealing it off your head so much.

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where is all the cute fluffy armin fluff his tags are so ghetto rn i literally sobbed for like 30 minutes over some personal stuff and all i wanted is some cute comfort fluff from my blonde seashell boy but no all u mfs gotta be horny or weirdos 😒

BOYS ARE STUPID

cw: implied f!reader, mentions of girlhood and teenage insecurity, the girls are gossiping and suna is jealous >:) wc: 2.4k

a/n: so this is technically a suna x reader piece but it kinda turned into something else along the way ??? with that being said, this was truly a blast to write. something about girlhood is so special to me :( so this felt like therapy to be able to bring to life LOL, completely inspired by this cute art of sister!suna and her loser brother

Sometimes, you think Suna just speaks to get a reaction out of you.

A true wild card, you’re never quite sure what nonsense is brewing behind his eyes and atop his tongue. He likes the element of surprise, confusing you with a random fact or flustering you with a lewd remark. You’ve become used to his antics, taking what he gives you and no longer expecting anything less than odd when it comes to him. 

Laying on top of his plaid comforter, you can hear muffled insults being thrown through the walls of his bedroom. His tone isn’t seriously angry or upset, but instead laced with a special annoyance that only a younger sibling can pull from their senior.  

The bickering abruptly ends as Suna swings his bedroom door open to return to you. Briefly, you spot his younger sister in the hallway behind him—slightly pouting with her arms crossed in defense. She goes to open her mouth once more, but Suna is quick to grab what he can from his desk (an Animal Crossing themed plushie) and throw it her way before slamming the door shut.

You send him a humorous glance, one that silently begs for the details of the quarrel. Your boyfriend reads your interest like a book, before plopping himself in his desk chair with a sigh. 

“My sister wants to hang out with you,” he drops casually.

“What? Really?”

Your head immediately lifts from Suna’s pillow in excitement, turning your attention to where he swivels his chair in lazy circles. 

“Yup,” he emphasizes the pop of the p through his pursed lips, “said she wants to save you from my cooties, or something stupid.”

Your nose slightly twitches at his big brother-esque explanation—catching your scolding glare, he holds his hands up in innocence, “Her words, not mine.” 

You sit on the statement, still puzzled at how the quarrel in the hallway correlates with the information at hand. Seeing your brow still furrowed with confusion, he clarifies, “She also thinks you’re cooler than me.”

You scoff with amusement, “I mean, she’s right about that.”

Suna’s younger sister, a timid but incredibly witty girl, had honestly never expressed too much of an interest in you. It’s not that she didn’t like you, she was just quiet, young. Often reserved and keeping to herself, much like her brother, whose mischievous personality never quite shined through until you’d gotten to know him better.

The mere thought of her insinuating an interest in your friendship has you beaming with an overwhelming excitement.  

Nearly jumping from his bed, you sit yourself up against the headboard with an impatient, “Well, what’d you tell her?”

Now, it’s Suna’s turn to scoff, “No, obviously.”

Keep reading

bugs are so important to this world I will never diminish the worth of a bug but the truthis they scare me and I don’t want them in my home please

I GOT MY TICKETS YESTERDAY IM GONNA SEE STRAY KIDS AHHHHH

july 1st will be the best of my life ahhhh

i’ll commit heinous crimes to ensure that at 3pm EST on friday april 22nd i have floor seating for the july 3rd skz concert in chicago

idk i will hold bang chan’s hand

yes, there are other songs that exist, but are they levanter by stray kids? no, i didn’t think so.

akaashi keiji x reader, 2.3k

you and akaashi have both been stood up. fate intervenes.

This is stupid, Akaashi thinks as he watches a couple a few tables away sharing a slice of cake.

There’s a woman in the table beside them with a slice of cake as well, but she’s alone and aggressively stabbing at it with a fork; he had watched her buy it, wondering how long he had been sitting at this cafe since his coffee had long turned ice cold.

It was the third time that Akaashi had checked his phone for a message he knew wouldn’t be there. It was funny how much rationalization the mind could create when the heart wanted to believe a lie. He should have left an hour ago, but he made excuse after excuse as to why his date would have been late— the excuses should have stopped when thirty minutes passed and his phone didn’t beep with that stupid notification jingle.

“Okay.” Akaashi muttered in annoyance. His fingers drummed against the table, each beat gradually becoming more and more annoyed until he finally grew irritated at the sound. He reached for his phone one more time. Hope fizzled out when there was no notification.

Now it was official.

Akaashi Keiji had been stood up.

“What the hell?” Akaashi asked no one in particular as he leaned back in his chair. He should have known better than to accept Bokuto’s matchmaking tendencies when he begged him to go on this blind date.

Though he tried to convince himself that this didn’t happen, and that he didn’t even care, his lips tugged downward, tugging itself into an upset pout. He let out a deep sigh, hoping that no one else had noticed that he had been stood up.

With another quick glance around his shoulder towards the front door, he mentally noted that the woman sitting alone with the cake had been here as long as he had been. He gets up to leave but when he walks past your table he hears the same aggressive sound of a fork hitting the plate.

He doesn’t know what takes over him, always being the type to mind his business, but he clears his throat to grab your attention before asking, “Are you ok?”

The stranger looks up, your eyes glassy with a hint of sadness. “Oh.” you say as you’re pulled out of a daze. You look down at the destroyed food on the plate before you, “Oh damn.”

Maybe Akaashi hadn’t been the only person waiting for someone.

You quickly brush the crumbs off of your clothes, straightening yourself. Akaashi watches your cheeks flush with a light pink as you bow your head slightly.

“Are you okay?” Akaashi repeats his question.

You press your lips together into a thin smile as you shake your head. Your voice holds a hint of nervousness when you reply, “I guess this is as good as I can be. Being stood up sucks.”

Akaashi blinked a few times before he let out a soft laugh. Incredible. The world worked in mysterious ways.

“I know what you mean,” Akaashi says, “I got stood up too.”

“What? Mr. Tall, Handsome and Mysterious? You got stood up?”

Akaashi shrugs, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been out of the dating scene for a while so I’m rusty at this whole thing.” As his eyes gently gaze over at you, taking you in, he thinks to himself, she’s pretty. Then the realization dawns on him: “You think I’m handsome?”

Your face flushed with cute embarrassment as you looked down at the table. Akaashi can’t help the fond smile spreading across his face.

“Are you fishing for a compliment?” you groan, pouting.

“You said it first.” he teases.

This is a welcome diversion from his original plan for the night, he thinks. Yeah, getting stood up sucks, but he can’t deny the fact that his ego needed that boost after it plummeted to rock bottom from being stood up. Especially when it came from you.

He takes the seat in front of you. “Looks like we’re both members of the Lonely Hearts Club, huh?” he comments.

“If we’re going to be part of a club, we should at least pick a cooler name.”

Akaashi laughs, “Okay, you pick our new name.”

“You’re the one who started it, you name it.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, gently bumping his knuckles with yours. “We’re the founding members. We need to come up with the name together.”

“How can I be a founding member if I don’t even know your name?”

“It’s Keiji.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Akaashi smiles at you, which you happily return. While Akaashi initially wanted to go home and just drown in feelings of self pity for the night, he has a better idea.

He recognises the dejected look in your eyes because it mirrors the exact same way he feels on the inside. Akaashi doesn’t even know a single fact about you except your name and the fact that you’re supposedly single, but he feels the need to wipe any feelings of sadness from you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he meets your eyes, “Are you busy right now?”

.

.

.

They end up at a bowling alley a few blocks away from the cafe.

“How are you so bad at this?” Akaashi calls out once again, your bowling ball rolling right into the gutter for the third time tonight. He lets out a fit of giggles at the expression on your face. “How many gutters is that now?”

If he’s being honest, Akaashi is horrible at bowling. The only thing that’s carrying him through this game is his previous experiences from the bowling nights Bokuto and Kuroo insist on taking him on to ‘solidify their friendship’. As if he could ever escape them.

“I’ve never gone bowling before!” you huff, scowling as you over him. You playfully bump his shoulder with yours. “You go bowl then. Get a strike.”

“And if I get a strike?”

“If you get a strike, I’ll buy you something to eat. If you don’t get a strike, you buy me something to eat,” you bet, folding your arms over your chest. In the slice of neon lighting from the ceiling, you look at Akaashi with pure challenge in your eyes. “Oh, suddenly Mr Pro-Bowler is all quiet?”

“You hush,” Akaashi points at you, “I’ll get a strike so I can shut your pretty mouth up.”

Akaashi strides past you, picking up a yellow bowling ball and taking his position on the platform. Carefully, he lifted the ball in his hand — once, twice, three times before he took four strides and rolled the bowl. Without even looking around, he felt cool as fuck. Kuroo had made enough snarky comments in the past that his form was now undeniably perfect.

Slowly, he looked up to see the bowling ball rolling down the lane. As it drew near, Akaashi donned a proud smirk — that was until the ball veered right and kept going right until it went into the gutter.

From behind him, he could hear you jump up and whoop in excitement. Akaashi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Shut up and pick whatever food you want, Y/N.”

“Oh my god,” you mocked, “how are you so bad at this?”

Akaashi walked over to you and poked at your sides. “Shut up.” he warns in between pokes. You were ticklish — he figured it out quickly when you burst into a fit of giggles, clutching at your sides as you tried to grab his hands and make him stop. When Akaashi finally stopped, he nods, “Come on. I owe you food, a bet is a bet.”

“A man of his word,” you grin, “how refreshing.”

.

.

.

“Wait, your best friend was the one who set you up on this blind date?” you asked, walking alongside Akaashi. You were holding a fresh ice cream cone, courtesy of him and Akaashi had to look away every time you licked at the ice cream dripping down the sides. Akaashi was nice, and polite, and respectful but he was still a man.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Akaashi replies, licking his own cone. “I should’ve known better than to agree. I guess for once, I just wanted to step outside of my comfort zone. Look where that landed me, huh.”

“You know,” you perk up, “I saw this documentary once where this girl got stood up by a guy on a date. She was devastated but turns out he was a serial killer and she was about to become his next victim. Maybe it was for the best.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow at you, “You think my friend set me up with a serial killer?”

“You never know!”

“In that case,” Akaashi gasps in faux surprise, “Maybe we both just got luck and narrowly avoided becoming victims!”

“Or maybe you’re the murderer!” you point accusingly. “What kind of guy is this hot with an amazing personality I like, and isn’t a psychopath? Plus you’re eating mint-chocolate out of all the flavours. Very suspicious.”

“I’m a murderer because I like mint chocolate?” Akaashi laughs before pointing at you. “Maybe you’re the murderer. It would make sense. People as beautiful as you are rarely as funny or annoying as you are.”

“I am not annoying.”

“I don’t know.” Akaashi smirks. “I think I need to get to know you a little bit better before I make my final judgement.”

You hum. “Maybe you do.”

.

.

.

“For the record,” Akaashi says as he walks you to the front door of your apartment building, “most people don’t allow strangers they just met to drop them off at the house.”

You stop and turn to look at him and shrug. You struggle to locate your keys in your bag that Akaashi offers to hold your jacket. “For the record, I don’t usually go out with strangers after being stood up.”. You smile up at him, shadows cast against your face under the dim lighting of the entrance. “Thanks for making my shitty night actually really fun.”

“Yeah. Thanks for saying yes and being really cool about it.” Akaashi smiles back.

An awkward silence falls between you two.

Normally, this would be the social cue for Akaashi to say some cheesy line and maybe lean in for a kiss but he literally just met you and this wasn’t exactly a date. It was just an introduction… he hoped.

“Um so,” Akaashi breaks the silence as he hands you back your jacket. When it comes to asking for someone’s number, it usually comes before hanging out with them— this is new territory for him. He clears his throat before asking, “Do you think I could get your number? You know… just in case you get stood up again and need someone to hang out with.”

You smile as you reply, “I don’t know, this guy I have a crush on now doesn’t seem like the type of person who would stand me up.”

“Oh yeah?” Akaashi feels his heart picking up its pace as he watches you smile coyly. “The guy you have a crush on, huh? I hope he’s not a murderer.”

“I hope so too,” you grin, “since he knows where I live and all now.”

“Yeah, I hope he’s not weird.”

“I don’t know, I’m hoping he calls before anything. Especially since he already has my number.” you said as you turn around and hum a tune, punching in the code to the front door.

Akaashin blinks a few times. Had you given him your number already? He couldn’t remember. Akaashi was sure he would have remembered if you gave him your number.

“Check your coat pocket!” you call out from the door. “Text me later! I want to know if you got home safely. I’m not running the Lonely Hearts Club alone!”

Akaashi puts his hands in his pocket as you close the door and start walking away. He pulls out a strip of tokens he had gotten from the bowling alley earlier when he had unsuccessfully tried to win you a small plushie.

“How cute.” Akaashi says, shaking his head at himself.

.

.

.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto calls out from the sofa as soon as he steps through the door. “What the hell? You stood up my friend?”

Akaashi looks up from taking off his shoes, whipping his head around to look at Bokuto. “What?”

“She texted me an hour ago, saying she waited for so long in the cafe until she just gave up and left!” Bokuto bounds to where Akaashi is, looking like a kicked puppy. “I gushed about you so much, and now she probably thinks I pulled a fast one on her.”

“I waited for so long in the cafe! I even got there half an hour early.” Akaashi exclaims in disbelief.

Bokuto’s brows furrow in confusion. “You were? But she was there for at least two hours. I sent her a photo of you, and she even sat on the ground floor so she could look for you.”

“But I was—”

Did Bokuto say ground floor? The cafe he was in only had one floor to begin with. He lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead.

“What cafe did you say she was waiting at?”

“The Coffee House! You know, that new hipster place in the centre with the records along the front. It was the perfect place for a blind date.”

“Bokuto,” Akaashi says exasperated, “you told me to go to the House of Coffee, the cafe near that bowling alley we always go to.”

Time seems to freeze for a second until Bokuto’s eyes widen in realization. “I-I did?”

Akaashi doesn’t answer, simply patting Bokuto’s shoulder and walking past him to head into his room. Under normal circumstances, Bokuto would be on the receiving end of a lecture about how important small details were.

Not tonight, however. He pulls his phone out from his pocket, quickly dialing your number as he steps into his room. It only takes two rings before you pick up.

“Hey, Y/N. I just made it home.”

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

JUJUTSU KAISEN CHARACTERS AS FOREIGN / IMMIGRANT DAD TROPES

feat. itadori, megumi, gojou, nanami, getou, sukuna

warnings: none, itadori & megumi are obviously fathers with kids in this so they’re both grown

lil side note: this is dead just for me to check if my tags are working soo... yeah enjoy LMAO

YUUJI ITADORI -> brings his kid freshly cut fruit on a plate after they’ve been studying in their room for a while

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO -> spells out the letters of his name using other words when he’s asked on the phone (etc. “m like marry, e like egg”)

SATORU GOJOU -> tells stories about how he managed to be at the top of his class while fighting grizzly bears to get to school everyday

NANAMI KENTO -> swears up and down that there will be no type of pet in his household, but two weeks after getting one he’s in love

SUGURU GETOU -> remembers his daughter telling him that she liked something once, so he continued to buy it for her in excess

RYOMEN SUKUNA -> doesn’t explicitly say “i’m sorry,” but instead comes into his kid’s room and tells them to come eat after an argument

Suna loml

aot actor!au headcanon masterlist

i’ll be adding to this as the ideas come

mikasa’s thirst trap era

superbowl halftime tiktok

smooth criminal falco

the world is cruel, but i still love you

summary: it dawns on them as they sing these words that this part of their life is coming to an end. the series is over, but they can’t be. they mean too much to each other.

word count: 1.4k

pairing(s): eren jaeger x mikasa ackerman

genre | includes: actor!au, slight angst with a happy ending, pining, songfic kinda, sfw, kissing, not proofread, inconsistent tone

author’s note: i was supposed to be writing a scholarship essay and then this happened. this was originally supposed to be a headcanon, but i got unbelievably carried away which is why youll see a shift in style. im too lazy to do anything about it. i’m kind of happy wrote though, i’ve been in a severe writer’s block since I posted messy handwriting months ago. this is my first time writing for aot so i hope you enjoy. listen to the s4 pt2 outro while you read! that’s what they’re singing :)

another aot actor!au

but imagine for the last episode of the series, they have eren and mikasa sing the outro (akuma no ko) so it’s like they’re singing to each other.

and bc mikasa is half-japanese and probably speaks japanese with her mom, she has to spend hours helping eren remember the lyrics and get the pronunciation right. for weeks, the words just wouldn’t come out right. he doesn’t get the inflection and the drawn out vowels. it reminds him of why he stopped learning the language in the first place. german was so much easier. 

but mikasa is patient. she’s the greatest teacher he could have asked for. she facetimes him for hours at a time and placates his worries as the recording date comes closer. he picks her up every other day so they can sing in the car and she gives him a piece of candy for every time he makes it through the lyrics without stumbling. it’s bittersweet. ending the journey they spent more than half their lives on in the exact same way it started: sitting in each other’s company and rehearsing their lines, fearful of what comes next.

eren dreads the recording day. not because he’s afraid he won’t get his part right, no mikasa made sure he sounds good, but because of what it symbolizes. when the episode airs and the public hears them sing this song for the first time, it will be the last time he will don the role of eren jaeger, doctor’s son from shiganshina, titan shifter, savior and destroyer of the world. if he doesn’t get his act together, it will be the last time he will don the role of mikasa ackerman’s lover. he’s not ready. mikasa isn’t either.

as he stands next to mikasa in the recording studio, headphones secured over his pulled back hair (she likes it more that way, “i like being able to see all of your face” she said) he reminisces on the first day he asked mikasa for help. when she translated the lyrics for him. his heart was stuck on the chorus. they were the first lines he memorized, having spent hours outside of mikasa’s company trying to get them right so he could say them to her over and over. so his feelings made it to her somehow. even if they weren’t his own words. even if she didn’t know he meant every bit of it.

he locks eyes with her as he sings them with her, both of their voices low, gravelly, thick with something the other wasn’t sure they wanted to believe. 

the world is cruel, but i still love you

she wanted to stop there. mikasa wanted to yank the headphones over the silly pigtails on top of her head (he likes it more that way, “you look like that one picture of you as a kid, the one you tried to delete from sasha’s phone so she couldn’t post it on your birthday. you still get cake all over your face just like you did in that picture” he said) and turn the microphone off. she wanted to hold eren’s face in her trembling hands and say the words for real. she doesn’t resent much about herself, but she does regret not being more like her on-screen counterpart. mikasa ackerman the soldier never hesitated. she made sure eren knew she loved him. mikasa ackerman the actress hasn’t yet mustered up the courage. she would go to the ends of the earth for eren, she would. and if she had the chance to tell him, she knows she would never stop. she would never stop the waterfall of i love yous directly into the shell of his ear and don’t leave mes into his neck and it’s always been yous into his lips that she’s only ever released in her dreams. 

no matter what you sacrifice, i will still protect you

their voices both crack, in the way that musicians make seem intentional, like they’re choked up on their emotions and their hearts are clawing their way out of their chests while they sing. 

never once do their eyes leave each other. can you hear me? they want to say. did my voice, have my words, has this message, reached you? they want to cry.

when they finish their eyes are wet. neither willing to blink lest they shed the first tear. they hardly register the staff on the other side of the glass congratulating them, telling them to come to the other room and listen to the recording again.

eren reaches for mikasa’s hand as they walk out. she grips it tightly and squeezes once. is it really over? he squeezes back. it is.

at the emmy’s months later, they stand on the same stage they’ve walked across dozens of times since they were small. back when they were terrified of the possibility of tripping over their feet on live tv, back when they were terrified of being on live tv, back when there was so much left of their story, back when this wasn’t the last time. they stand in front of the cameras, the audience, their oldest friends, hollywood legends, and novices alike, microphones in hand. the orchestra in the pit below them swells with their voices as they confess to each other once again. unknowing of the validity of the other’s words. their eyes stay locked on each other the same way they did in the studio. the millions of eyes on them forgotten. it is just mikasa and eren. eren and mikasa. just as it always has been, just as they hope to god it always will be. 

when the piano trickles out at the end, mikasa loses the battle with her tears. and eren pulls her in before she completely gives into her sorrow and sinks into the floor. the applause is deafening, but eren hears nothing but mikasa’s whisper.

“it’s really over,” her voice is hoarse from proclaiming her love at the loudest volume her throat would allow.

the curtain drops.

“it is,” his voice is hoarse from proclaiming his love at the loudest volume his throat would allow.

backstage, after they’ve changed, ready to go sit with their castmates, their old castmates, in anticipation for the remaining awards, mikasa pulls eren aside. maybe she feared being too much like mikasa ackerman the soldier because she knew it would be hard to separate herself from her alternate persona and would lose a part of her true self. but she has reconciled, in this moment, that there was no point. she would always be mikasa ackerman the soldier as much as she was mikasa ackerman the actress. so she would no longer resent her hesitation because her hesitation would be no more.

“i have to say this to you” she begins slowly, trying not to regret her hastiness, trying not to regret not having prepared for this ahead of time, “i have to say this to you before i lose you. this will be the first time in 13 years that I haven’t seen you regularly on set or had an excuse to show up at your apartment or hotel room or trailer under the guise of rehearsing lines and sharing gossip. you are my best friend, have been for my whole life, and i don’t know why we fear that this will change because we no longer lead our double lives, because we both know it isn’t true. but i know that with every day that we don’t spend time together we’ll grow apart and i can’t live with that. i can’t live with that because i love you, eren. more than a best friend should. more than a castmate. more than anything. i love you so much that i think my life might fall apart that you aren’t there. i meant every word i sang up there and you don’t have to believe me, but i couldn’t live with myself if i let this chapter of our lives end without setting up room for a sequel. i’m sorry if this is sudden and out of nowhere, but god, eren, i love you.”

she didn’t have the chance to catch her breath before he was leaning forward, loose wisps of his hair tickling her forehead, large, rough hands from years of doing his own stunts cupping her cheek (she could feel the scar on his right hand from biting it so intensely for so many years), and capturing her lips with his own. they kiss with over a decade’s worth of resolved fear as fuel. they would never lose each other, not after this.

they didn’t know how long they stood there, i love yous directly into each other’s ears, don’t leave mes into their necks, it’s always been yous into their lips.

the world is cruel, but i still love you

© mamasbakeria 2022. do not repost, translate (without permission), or modify

time passing through w armin :)) 

cw: mutual pining, angst, childhood friends to “strangers” to friends, always a little in love, basically…. it’s sad but it ends on a very hopeful note

best friend armin and you who are about to go off to college and leave the small town you grew up in. grasping at everything you can in the summer time, trying to salvage the friendship slipping away from you both. knowing that if you don’t stay friends he will be someone that haunts you forever, and you him. 

the common knowledge that you’re moving away from each other, that you won’t be able to see each other. the slow ticking of the clock as your days together run out. and you’re both desperately trying to keep the topic light, to avoid the conversation because you know once it comes, there will be nothing left to say. 

Keep reading

been thinking about this all day

attack on titan actor!au headcanon where mikasa discovers the joy of tiktok thirst traps

it's probably historia's fault. she asked mikasa to learn a dance with her and when she realized how much people liked it, she was hooked.

the cast will not know peace and neither will the fans.

there's 100% a clip circulating on twitter of her that's just like the one of alexa demie from euphoria singing yo voy in the car

thirst trap mikasa has the internet in a chokehold

part 3 when the madrigals jump him when?

His amor

In which Camilo turns to his sister for help but she insists that he hears the truth from you. You shed light to who you are and where you came from.

The long awaited part 2 of ‘his girl’. Part 1 is here ! masterlist !!

t.w abuse, mentions of blood and beating

The walk back to Casita was silent with Camilo deep in thought. He kept trying to think of the reason why your mother despises him so much. Was it his pranks? He was sure he hadn’t done anything to mess with her. Maybe she caught wind of his troublesome ways and thought he was a bad influence? No, something inside the shapeshifter knew that it was something much deeper than that.

And he knew one person who had the answers to his questions.

He was somber, gazing on the ground as Casita opened its doors for him. As he trudged to the direction of his big sister’s, a little soft ‘hm’ interrupted him from his thoughts.

He looked up to see Dolores, with those wide round eyes staring at him and she played with her fingers whilst pursing her lips.

“I know something you don’t..” Dolores had covered her lips, shaking her head. No, no, that wasn’t your story to tell, she scolds herself. “I know something you would never know.” She had continued before slapping a hand on her mouth again.

Camilo bit his lower lip, making his way over to the balcony and looking towards the direction of the rest of Encanto and you were. He had also wanted to know but he wanted to hear it from you. Or at the very least, know how you were after that ordeal.

“She’s okay.” Dolores’ soft voice had brought him out of her thoughts and she looked down. “You know, sometimes the gift I was given doesn't seem like a gift at all.” The young woman murmured as she joined her brother on the veranda, leaning against it. “You hear some things you wish you can’t. You know things you should never know. I don’t want to say anything for her sake.” She smiled down at her brother.

The girl sucked in a breath and Camilo knew she was trying her hardest not to tell him and he smiled, grateful but also in a comforting way as he patted Dolores’ back.

“Just.. When you finally know why, be there for her, hermano. Be by her side.”

Camilo gazed at his big sister before slowly nodding. “I will, hermana. I will.”

It would be a while before he returned to his room, laying in bed as he stared at the ceiling, curiosity eating him up as well as the desire to check on you but he had to restrain himself. Until he could no longer just lay there.

He grabbed his ruana in a flash, grabbing a lantern to light his journey to you. Though at his preparation, he failed to hear the soft ‘clinking’ of rocks against his window.

Camilo breathed in before opening the window and instead of being greeted with the cold breeze of the night, he was instead hit with a particularly large pebble. Startled and slightly pained, the boy held onto his nose with a groan.

What the..

“I.. um.. oops?” A voice had squeaked out from outside his window and his eyes widened, immediately running over to see you with an apologetic smile and rocks and pebbles of different sizes in your arms. You were wearing a thick shawl, a little lantern in your hand and some mangoes from before as a.. ‘sorry’ gift of some sorts.

“Agh, there are small pebbles there, princesa, couldn’t you have just stuck to one size?” Camilo had whined quietly, rubbing at his now red nose. You would only laugh nervously, dropping the assortment of pebbles and rocks.

“I didn’t know which one to pick.” Dios, you were lucky you were adorable.

He had chuckled, shaking his head as he had gently tugged down one of the winding vines that Isabela had created around the house and with Casita’s help, you had entered his room. Immediately, you ran up to him, enveloping him into a hug.

“I missed you, Camilo.” His eyes softened as he held you close. “I missed you too princesa.”

Slowly you pull away and you purse your lips. Cheeks heating up at what you had just done and you shake your head. Now was not the time for that. You were sure Camilo was still reeling over the events before. And you dreaded telling him just why your mamá reacted that way but something told you that he would understand somehow.

You took a deep breath. “I have.. something to tell you.” The shapeshifter’s eyes widened. “Are you sure, princesa? You don’t have to tell me anything until you’re ready.” And you would nod. He deserved to know what had happened after that run-in with your mother.

Where would you even start? Taking in another deep breath and closing your eyes, you felt Camilo’s hand hold yours as if telling you without words that he was there. He would listen.

“My mamá and I came from a village far, far away from Encanto.” You murmured. “She was married, married to this.. awful man that was my father.” Your voice wavered. “Father was a businessman, a noble of sorts if you will, and she was betrothed to him at a young age. I heard people say that they were happy, the perfect couple.. and when I was a child, I thought so too.”

Suddenly everything had made sense for Camilo. Your elegance, the blatant lack of knowledge or wisdom of even the simplest thing such as picking out fruits, and as well as your not so simple outfits. You were once in a higher place in society. Loveless marriage in nobility was more common than one may think and yet your mamá tried to love your father as best as she could.

Camilo looked at you, nodding a little and offering you a reassuring smile. He was listening.

“Until the beatings started.” You whisper, voice trembling as you try not to break down in front of the Madrigal boy whose expression had been appalled. “At first it was just scolding, y’know? Father would get mad, he would yell and shout.. and then it snowballed into harsh squeezes, pinches, and my mamá, my poor mamá thought that it was nothing. Couples fight all the time, she said.”

You were always so careful as to not anger your father. Your mother, when you would manage to mess up, would always take the blame in order for your father to spare you but she couldn’t hold him off for long.

The squeezes and pinches turned into full hits and slaps. You mamá wore nothing but long sleeved tops and skirts that reached down to her shoes. Her face was always caked on with powder and covered with a silk fabric to hide the bruises your father inflicted on her. You had bruises as well though not as much as your mamá, it was mostly from pinches or slaps on the back of your headvwhenever you would say something he didn’t like.

You can still remember the day that he got her scar and you grimaced, hugging yourself. Camilo would place an arm around you. He didn’t speak. He wanted you to know that he was there for you and to take your time. “Don’t force yourself, princesa.” And again you would shake your head. You wanted him to know. No more secrets.

“The last straw was when he lashed out on me.” Your voice shook. “He was drunk, he was angry and I dropped something. I was clumsy. I didn’t mean to. I don’t even remember what I dropped.. but my father, he was so angry was going to.. he had a navaja in his hand, he was out of control. There was glass breaking and mamá, all I saw was mamá on the ground and blood on the floor.”

Camilo shut his eyes tightly, already knowing what became the outcome of the incident. The scar that ran through your mamá’s face.. was caused by your father.

“And that was it. After that we had snuck off in the dead of night. We didn’t know where we were going but we heard whispers. Somewhere safe, in the mountains where no one could find us.. there was a cart bound for Encanto and now here we are..” You swallow thickly as you finish your story, chest heaving up and down and tears threatening to roll down your eyes.

“I’m sorry, about my mamá, she wasn’t like that before.. She was gentle, kind, and always so helpful but..” Camilo slowly shook his head. You didn’t need to explain anything more but you continued.

“She’s just.. afraid, afraid that I would end up being a fool in love with a man like my father. Afraid that I’m going to get myself hurt.” You admit. “Not that I ever thought you would hurt me.” You quickly added. “I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for someone unkind, promised myself I would find someone who wouldn’t hurt me and would always treat me right.. and I think I fulfilled that promise.” You glanced at him before looking away quickly, your cheeks turning warm.

And Camilo was taken aback, his heart hammering against his chest as he quickly whipped his head towards your direction, eyes wide and heat creeping up to his cheeks. He had honestly looked dumb, gaping at you like a fish.

“I.. you..” He stammers out. Was he hearing right? Did you just..?

“You heard right!” Dolores’ voice had quipped from inside the room next door. “.. Sorry!” She calls out her apology for ruining the moment.

And as you two had sat in silence, cheeks burning hotter than any sunny day that Pepa had made, he held your hand in his.

“I think you fulfilled that promise too.” Camilo says bashfully before clearing his throat. “I want to prove myself to you and your mamá first though. I want to do this right. I want to earn both you and your mamá’s trust. And to prove to you that I will never ever hurt you.” Your eyes would widen at his declaration before he gently made you look at him.

“If I should ever raise my hand at you, it is only to caress your face in my hands. If I should ever shout, it is only to let the world know how much I love you.. know that I will never hurt you. Te prometo esto. This is the promise that I will fulfill to you, mi princesa, mi amor.”

Your father is a dick, Camilo would jump him with the Madrigal Family if he ever showed up.

Also Camilo being the absolute king he is. I hope you guys liked this one. Though as always I would love to hear your thoughts!

taglist: @writing-shroom @ilorichi

Can white Hindus wear saris?

Yes.