From The List

From the list

Too loud Wonka

Or pet Laurie

Too Loud

Micro story prompt

"Mamma!!!" young Willy yelled from his bed. He sat up and looked around, unable to see anything in the dark until another flash of lightning illuminated the small room of their boat. "Mamma!!!"

His mother ran into the living quarters at the sound of his cries, hair drenched from tying things down outside so they would not fly away with the wind. She found her son curled up in the corner with his hands over his ears.

"The thunder, it's too loud," Willy whimpered. She sat next to him and pulled him in for a hug.

"There, there. It's ok. It will pass. We've weathered harsher storms than this and will weather harsher still." She rocked him and hummed until he fell asleep again.

<><><><><>

Willy sat up in his rickety bed at Scrubbit and Bleacher's, awakened by a sudden clap of thunder. Within seconds, he heard the pattering of small footsteps stop at his door. The knob turned, and the door opened slowly to reveal a scared Noodle shrouded in her blanket.

"Is it too loud?" Willy asked. The young girl nodded. He opened his arms to invite her in, which she eagerly accepted. He pulled her to his chest, and she tucked her head under his chin. He rocked her and hummed one of his mother's lullabies until she fell asleep, and so did he.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

Boba Fett Being A Trigger-Happy Little Shit OR Darth Vader Being A Fucking Spoilsport, depending on who you ask

and i wake every night

crying, “set me free”

Abbey by Mitski

happy may the fourth!!!

Misophonia

Summary: Timothée learns about your sensitivity to certain sounds. Female reader, boyfriend Timmy.

A/N: pulled from my own experience with self-diagnosed misophonia. Other's experiences may be different.

<><><><><>

You and Timothée were invited out on a double date with his friend, Aiden, and his girlfriend, Krista, at a nice restaurant downtown. You were seated at a circular table between Timothée and Krista. Once initial awkward conversation was out of the way, you and she hit it off once you discovered a mutual love of [insert fandom]. It felt like she was someone you could hang out with one-on-one in the future.

The evening was going smoothly until the salad and bread were brought to the table. It turned out that Krista was terrible at chewing with her mouth closed. You tried to focus on the boys' conversation to tune out the wet sounds of her smacking. You dreaded the main course, knowing you would have to endure more of these maddening noises. You were granted a temporary reprieve to regain composure when she finished her salad, but the entrees were served all too soon.

As Krista dove into her maple-glazed chicken breast, you felt yourself go pale. You stared at your own food and went through the motions of cutting it up and feeding yourself small bites, but you couldn't really even taste or enjoy it due to auditory overload. You felt your palms go sweaty as your breathing became more shallow and rapid. Your knee started bouncing as an outlet for the building panic.

You felt Timothée's hand move to your thigh. "Are you okay?" he whispered in your ear. You would normally enjoy the feeling of his nose grazing your cheek or the heat of his breath on your skin, but the sound of the whisper put you over the edge.

You nodded subtly, though your actions and demeanor demonstrated you were anything but. You dabbed your mouth with the cloth napkin, pushed yourself away from the table, and excused yourself to go to the restroom.

The budding rage gave you tunnel vision as you made your way to the back of the restaurant. Ironically, you didn't hear Timothée get up and follow you. Once you reached the hallway outside of the restrooms, you leaned against the wall with one hand to catch your breath. You whispered your sensory mantra to ground yourself, focusing on what you could see, smell, or feel rather than hear. You startled and spun around when you felt a hand take your free one.

"[Y/N], what is going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm ok. I just need a minute. Please, just go back to the table."

Timothée made no move to leave you be. "I saw your jaw clench and nose flare. You're mad about something. What happened?"

You shook your head. Maybe later you could unpack just how sweet it was that he paid such close attention to you. "I'm not mad. Not exactly. I- I have trouble dealing with certain sounds. Like gum smacking, candy wrappers, the sound dry cotton balls make when you pull one apart. But smacking especially. It- it's called misophonia. I get...anxious and angry if it continues and panicky if I can't get away from it. Krista's chewing set it off."

"We can leave if-"

"No, no. It's ok. I'll be ok. I'll come back in just a minute." You put a hand to your forehead. "I'm sorry. Please go back and just tell them I needed to visit the restroom. Say the wine went to my head or something." You scoffed. "I'm usually better at dealing with this."

Timothée laid a hand on your shoulder. The weight of it was calming. "We all have...stuff, [Y/N]. I didn't much care for seeing half-masticated food rolling around in her mouth, either."

You giggled quietly, then cast your eyes to the floor.

"Why haven't you talked to me about this before?" he asked solemnly.

You raised your chin to look up at him. He looked sincere, not at all put off by what you had just admitted. "It's embarrassing. It's not exactly something easy to bring up in casual conversation," you replied. "And besides, when it's not triggered, I don't actively think about it. Like I said, I can usually work through it, especially if the exposure is limited."

"But you are miserable until it passes."

You simply nodded in response.

"Oh, [Y/N]," he whispered as he brought his hand to your cheek. "Thank you for telling me. You don't have to deal with this alone. Now I can be more mindful about your known triggers and help run interference before you get to this point." He paused briefly. "Though I don't know how to help once we get back to the table."

"I'll be ok. She should be done soon and dessert is a smaller course. She's otherwise a lovely girl, Timothée. Maybe we could find other...non-dining...things to do with them in the future."

He smiled and nodded. "Sure. I'll head back now that I know you're alright. Join us when you are able." He kissed your forehead and turned to leave.

"Timothée," you called out. He turned at the sound of his name. "Thank you for not making me feel...weird about it."

"Oh, you are weird, [Y/N]" he replied and flashed a grin, which you returned. "But not for that. And I love you for it. You're my weirdo."

You blushed as he turned away once again. You loved that man to the moon and back.

<><><><><>

A couple of days later, Timothée came by your apartment to hang out and watch a movie. He handed you a small box as he entered before plopping down on the couch. You sat down next to him and started to open it.

"I, uh, did some research on misophonia." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I read that these may help," he said as you pulled out a set of [insert favorite color] earbuds from the box. "They allow conversational tones through while - hopefully - muffling other unwanted noises."

You felt tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you looked over at him. "Thank you. And they are even my favorite color." He blushed as you kissed him on the cheek.

"Maybe you could try them out during the movie?" he offered. You nodded and set to securing them in your ears while he pulled up the film.

Timothée's purchase was spot on. You were able to hear the movie audio clearly and tune out his distracting yet endearing habit of shuffling through the popcorn bowl to find the pieces with the most butter.

When the credits rolled, he looked over at you inquisitively. "Well?"

"They worked! Thank you."

"Anything for my girl. I couldn't bear to think of all the times you were likely miserable while I was oblivious. And how often I may have unknowingly contributed."

"It's okay, Timmy. I can't expect everyone to tiptoe around me, nor do I want to make people feel self-conscious."

"Have I ever triggered it?"

You just stared at him, unsure of how to proceed.

"The answer is yes if you couldn't quickly say no. Just tell me," he prodded.

You gestured to the popcorn bowl. "This is a good example. The shuffling of popcorn when people grab a handful. It's usually not continuous enough to induce anger. Just annoyance and distraction."

Timothée looked horrified. "Oh...oh, [Y/N], I'm so sorry."

"See, this is why I don't talk about it. There is no use in shaming people for perfectly normal sounds. But the earbuds worked. I hardly noticed when you were digging through the bowl."

"Digging?" He raised an eyebrow in response.

You smiled widely. "You....have a habit of searching for buried treasure rather than taking some off the top."

Timothée blushed. "I didn't even realize. I guess that's weird, huh?"

"That's ok," you said soothingly as you kissed the tip of his nose. "You're my weirdo."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady

Word.

Adorable!

From the micro story list:

26 (how dare) with Laurie Laurence

Mirco Story Prompt

"How dare you!" You shouted at Laurie.

"Darling, please. Forgive me," Laurie said with his hands up.

"Oh, Laurie Laurence, I will never forgive you," you said, hitting his shoulder.

Laurie looked down at his hands hiding his expression from you. You narrowed your eyes. "Laurie if you are laughing I am going to divorce you." His head snapped up and you saw the tears in his eyes from holding back his laughter.

"Darling please," he said, laughing.

Amy and Jo snicker at your bickering and you glared at them. "He is cheating. You two have to be on my side," you complained tossing your cards down and crossing your arms over your chest.

Laurie chuckles wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. You wiggle to get away from him but he just hugged you tighter against him, kissing your cheek.

Sighing you settled and pouted with your back resting on his chest. "So," Laurie says, kissing your ear. "How does one cheat at Piquet?"

You huffed and tried to get up while they all laughed, but Laurie just kept you close. "Don't worry I will teach you how to play better."