#but it feels like this is brought up every few months

[dufferpuffer]

Azkaban is fantastic with Sirius and only Sirius. With Sirius it is a wonderful metaphor for deep depression.

He went there because he lost everything. Anything there was to live for didn't feel worth it. Was barely worth thinking about - because thinking about them would just get them sucked right out. He had to simplify his thoughts as a dog (disassociate) while his happy thoughts were being sucked out as quickly as they came into his head through the door to his room, so he just lay there in the cold alone for over a decade. He couldn't take basic care of himself.

What busted him out...? It wasn't happiness. It was anger. Self-sacrificing almost delirious drive. He wasn't himself anymore.

What brought him back was connection and purpose. He still wasn't happy, he still wasn't well - being trapped in his house didn't feel that much better than Azkaban, other than when he had visitors. He was still trapped in a world of his worst memories.

I'm not saying it very well... but I actually think thats really nice. That horrible torture prison is as bad as abusive home, that leaving didn't fix him but gave him room to improve, that he didn't need to 'get happy' he needed 'get reason to live - happy or not'.

But Azkaban exists outside of Sirius. It exists A LOT. It isn't just a 'place' Sirius went because he was 'the worst person ever in the world for getting his friends killed, its all his fault, he has gone to the worst ever place for the worst ever people who will NEVER feel joy again... but he fights his way out for Harry.'

Fucking Hagrid went there. Hagrid had to suffer Azkaban. It sort of ruins it, yknow...? Well, I mean... I could excuse it if Hagrid was the only one. If he came back propperly rattled from his shorter stay, and so when Sirius is introduced it's like 'wow he spent YEARS like that...'

But like every Death Eater has been there. Of course if ANYONE deserves Azkaban its loyal Death Eaters, muggle killers, torturers... but even un-loyal ones end up there. Suspected but unproven. Ones that were falsely accused. Ones that are proven followers of Voldemort but have not been proved of any action. Also people go to Azkaban for far lesser shit. There are short-term Azkaban sentences.

So the entire 'Depression' thing falls apart. It's impact is squashed. All 'Does X deserve Azkaban?' discussions die, because it is the ONLY prison. Where else can anyone go...? I think the only alternative we see is how Albus keeps Gellert as a pet under House-Arrest, because he can't stand the thought of sending the man he loves to the place where his father died. Albus is Azkaban's no. 1 hater

And that sucks. I think it would all be fixed if there was just another Wizarding Prison. Azkaban is the ultimate sentence - where people disappear, fade from memory.... not where you go for a few months because you were keeping some Sphinx's in your back yard. Some Death Eaters go to Azkaban. Of course they do. And some go to other prison. It can even be just as comically extreme: Azkaban is the worst place imaginable, while other prison is more like a soft daycare for the naughty. That way you have your continued narrative of 'Wizards really aren't very good at managing themselves huh'++

cant believe jkr created a prison that forces you to relive all of your worst memories, put a fairly major character in that prison for twelve years without a trial, and then just... didnt make it a commentary on the justice system OR the prison system. just like "lol thats a quirky thing that happened just for plot reasons, no bearing on reality tho"

[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐈𝐃

madeleine chase x will smith

will goes on a podcast and reveals to the world his gushing crush on pop star, madeleine chase (wc; 1.11k)

༉‧₊˚. ꒰ notes! ꒱ this is lowkey inspired by how tate mcrae and cole sillinger first got together + what will said in a podcast about tate mcrae (literally every man is obsessed with her and so am i)

au masterlist

It had been about a week since Will had moved to San Jose and he was… settling. California was very different from Massachusetts and everything was new. From the weather to the people, everything was unfamiliar to Will. His teammates — another new thing Will was getting used to — had been nothing but welcoming. They had been showing him around the area and making sure he was settling in well—especially the Marleau family who were taking him in for his first year in San Jose.

He appreciated their efforts, even though the move was still overwhelming at times. The sunny, warm weather of California was a stark contrast to the often chilly and unpredictable climate of Massachusetts, and it was both a blessing and a challenge to adapt to. The culture here was more laid-back, and people seemed to carry an air of casualness that Will wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

In the midst of all these changes, he was dealing with the start of the hockey season, which brought on a lot of commitments. Despite today being a rest day from all of the beginning of the season media, Will was sitting in the Empty Netters podcast studio. Will had met Dan and Chris, the two hosts, a while back, promising them he’d come on when he got signed by the Sharks. Months later, Will was fulfilling his promise.

“Alright, Will, welcome to the Empty Netters pod! Glad to have you here,” said Chris.

“Thank you for having me,” Will said, smiling politely.

“So, you've been in San Jose for what—about two weeks? How’s the transition going? It’s gotta be a change from Massachusetts." Dan asked.

Will nodded, leaning into the mic a bit. “Yeah, about that but it feels like longer with everything going on. It’s been go, go, go since I got here but California’s great. And everyone’s been super welcoming, especially the Marleau family. They’ve really helped me get settled.”

Dan grinned. “Yeah, you got blessed with your living situation for your first year. I mean Patrick Marleau is a legend.”

“Not bad at all,” Will chuckled, relaxing a little. “They’ve been great. Showing me around, and introducing me to some good spots to eat. I’m trying to figure out the whole California lifestyle.”

The conversation flowed easily as they touched on his early career, what he was looking forward to with the Sharks and a few lighter topics.

“Okay, Will, to end this interview we just want to do some rapid-fire questions, alright? So these are just random.” Chris asked.

“Yeah, ok, sounds good,” Will replied.

“Great, first question,” Chris said, glancing at his notes. “What's your favorite movie?”

Will thought for a moment, debating between the movies he loved. “I'd have to say 'Good Will Hunting'. It's a classic and, well, it's set in Boston. Reminds me of home.”

Both Dan and Chris nodded appreciatively. “Nice choice,” Dan answered. “Alright, next up: what's your go-to comfort food?”

“Probably a good lobster roll,” Will replied instantly. “It's practically a staple back home.”

“A lobster roll from Cape Cod sounds fucking delicious.” Chris agreed.

“Alright, final question,” Dan says. “Who is your celebrity crush?”

“Madeleine Chase,” Will says without hesitation.

Both Dan and Chris burst into laughter at Will’s quick answer, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he realizes his eagerness. “Damn, you were ready for that question,” Chris says through laughter. “Can you expand on why she is your celebrity crush?”

Will chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I mean, first of all, she’s gorgeous. I keep seeing photos of her performing for Taylor Swift in Europe and… whew.” Will answers, getting another chorus of laughter from the podcast hosts. “But also there’s something about her vibe. She seems really down-to-earth and genuine. I’ve seen her in interviews and she’s got a great sense of humor.”

Dan grinned. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” Will admitted, laughing. “But, you know, it’s hard not to admire someone like that. She’s got the whole package.”

“Quick, favorite song of hers?” Chris asked.

Will didn’t have to think much before answering. “Close To You. It’s just such a fun song to listen to.”

“If you have a message for Madeleine that we might be able to get to her at some point, what would it be?” Dan asked.

Will chuckled, questioning if he really wanted to it all out bare on this podcast. “Answer my DM,” he said, confidence lacing his tone.

“No way you’ve DM’ed her.” Chris laughed.

Will simply shrugged, laughing along with the two brothers. Dan leaned in with mock seriousness. "Alright, Sharks fans, you heard it here first—Will Smith’s got game both on and off the ice."

As the podcast wrapped up, Will thanked Chris and Dan, and they walked him out. His agent was waiting, jumping straight into talking about his schedule, but Will wasn't really listening. He was still stuck replaying the last part of the interview in his head.

Did I really just say that? His mind replayed the last part of the interview—talking about Madeleine Chase with no filter, like some lovestruck kid. He cringed inwardly, imagining how it must have sounded to anyone listening. He could already hear the ribbing from his teammates once this went live, and he cringed. His agent's voice was just white noise now as Will’s thoughts spiraled, imagining the potential fallout.

Answer my DM. The words bounced around his head like an unwelcome reminder of how he’d opened himself up for a joke. What if she actually did hear it? He wasn’t sure what compelled him to be so bold, especially considering they didn’t know each other. Will had always been reserved, especially in public settings, and now he felt like he'd let his guard down too much.

“Will? You listening?” his agent said, snapping him out of his daze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Will replied quickly, though he wasn’t. He pulled out his phone, hovering over the podcast's social media page. Maybe I can ask them to cut that part out… no, that’s ridiculous. It’s too late. He forced himself to put his phone away, trying to focus on anything else but the possibility of his comment blowing up online.

Will sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to shake off the doubt. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. They laughed, so it couldn’t have been too cringey… right?

Still, the uncertainty weighed on him. California was supposed to be a fresh start, but at that moment, Will couldn’t help but feel like he’d already stumbled out of the gate.

[trixy812]

004 ☆ Period.

Content: Fem!Reader, Sorcerer!Reader, funny, Nanami is gentleman, Gojo is a man, piece of life, cramps mentioned.

Synopsis: We need to make Gojo shut up, don’t you think?

A/N: I wrote this thinking it could be an Omake :). I hope you enjoy it! As much as I enjoyed writing it

The meeting at the sorcerers' headquarters had just wrapped up, and the air was thick with fatigue as everyone began to disperse.

But both Gojo and Nanami noticed that y/n was shifting uncomfortably in her seat, her face contorting in pain.

Nanami, ever observant, slipped out of the room. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup of chamomile tea, which he handed to y/n without a word, barely even looking at her.

“Thank you, Nanami,” she murmured, taking a sip. With a sigh, she added, almost as an afterthought, “Every month, it’s the same…these damn cramps.”

Gojo, catching her comment, smirked and leaned in. “Cramps? Seriously?” he teased. “Can’t be that bad, right? I’ve seen you injured for real, and you didn’t roll around like this, looking so weak. Can it really be that bad, just some pain from your own body?”

Nanami sighed, clearly exasperated by Gojo’s usual provocations.

y/n looked up from her tea, her expression darkening as she turned her gaze on Gojo.

“You think you could handle the pain I’m feeling?” she asked, her voice calm but with a challenge underneath it.

Gojo shrugged, confident as ever. “Of course, I could. I mean, you just like making a big deal out of it so people like Nanami will worry about you and be all nice,” he said with a smirk.

That was it. y/n’s patience was officially gone.

“Turn off Infinity,” she demanded, her eyes narrowing. “Let me activate my cursed technique, Empathic Trace, and you’ll see for yourself.”

Gojo raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “See? You’re already hyping it up, and nothing’s happened.”

y/n clenched her jaw, eyeing him with a glint of malice. “I haven't even touch you! You haven’t even felt anything yet, idiot!”

With that, she reached out, placing her hand on Gojo’s arm and activating Empathic Trace. Her cursed technique allowed her to transmit her emotions and physical sensations to anyone she marked with her energy.

In an instant, Gojo felt a wave of pain slam into his abdomen—the exact cramps that y/n had been enduring.

Gojo doubled over, his hands clutching his stomach as he collapsed to the ground. The pain was overwhelming, and he could barely speak.

“Ahhh! What...what is this?” he gasped, barely able to get the words out.

Nanami, watching with arms crossed and an amused expression, gave Gojo a faint smirk.

“Curious, isn’t it? The strongest sorcerer of our time, brought down by simple cramps.”

Gojo was writhing on the ground, his concentration too fractured to reactivate Infinity. He finally looked up at y/n with desperation in his eyes.

“y/n, please! Turn it off! I can’t even think straight enough to use my technique!”

y/n tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Apologize,” she replied smoothly, folding her arms. “And beg.”

Gojo groaned, still doubled over, but with his pride visibly crushed, he muttered, “Fine… I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know it could…hurt this much.”

Satisfied, y/n held back for a second, then released the technique, watching Gojo slump to the floor in relief. Taking a calm sip of her tea, she smiled, feeling that the sight of Gojo begging had made her own pain almost disappear.

“See? It’s not ‘drama.’ Maybe you just needed a bit of empathy,” she said, grinning.

Nanami allowed himself a small smile of approval, and a thumbs up,while Gojo, for once, was completely out of things to say.

[jaysng]

buying you flowers | sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x florist!reader

genre: fluff

summary: Jake’s daily visits to your flower shop were impossible to ignore—especially when he brought you flowers. Maybe you didn’t mind; maybe you liked it more than you’d admit.

You had always loved flowers. The way their colors, textures, and delicate petals created effortless beauty. Your small flower shop, nestled in a cozy corner of the city, wasn’t just a business—it was your sanctuary, your calm amidst the chaos.

Today was one of those peaceful days where time seemed to slow down, the scent of fresh blooms hanging sweetly in the air as the golden light of late afternoon poured in through the windows.

Your fingers carefully wrapped a bouquet for a client, your focus steady on the task at hand. The bell above the door jingled softly, signaling a new arrival, but you didn’t look up right away.

“I’ll be with you in a second!” you called out, finishing the last delicate twist of ribbon before setting the bouquet down.

A familiar voice—warm, teasing—answered, “Take your time. I’m not in a rush.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you glanced up, already knowing who it was. Jake stood by the counter, leaning casually against it, his hair falling in soft waves over his forehead. His eyes held that mischievous glint that always made your heart do an involuntary little flip. He was here again, just like he had been nearly every afternoon for the past few months.

“You know,” you said, putting your hands on your hips and raising an eyebrow, “I’m starting to think you only come here to distract me from work.”

Jake’s lips quirked into a smirk, leaning in slightly. “Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? You’re way more interesting than any of these flowers.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, but you rolled your eyes in response, trying to play it cool. “If you’re not buying flowers, you’re not helping my business, Jake.”

“Oh, but who says I’m not buying flowers?” he countered smoothly, straightening up.

Before you could reply, Jake placed a bouquet on the counter—one you hadn’t noticed before. It was filled with your favorite flowers—lavender roses, baby’s breath, and dahlias, all arranged with the kind of care that made your heart swell. You blinked, caught off guard.

“Wait, did you… buy these?” you asked, glancing from the bouquet to him, utterly confused. After all, you were the florist here. What was he doing buying flowers?

Jake shrugged nonchalantly, his smile growing. “Why not? They reminded me of you.”

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Jake, I own a flower shop. You don’t need to buy flowers for me. I’m literally surrounded by them.”

“Yeah, but none of these are from me,” he said, his voice light, teasing, but with an underlying softness that made your heart skip. His gaze held yours, and for a brief second, the shop felt quieter, the space between the two of you buzzing with unspoken tension.

You let out a small laugh, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, reaching out to touch the petals. The flowers were perfect—fresh and vibrant, and knowing they were chosen for you, by him, made them feel even more special.

“Maybe,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter again, his eyes never leaving yours. “But admit it, you like it.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you looked away, unable to hold back the grin spreading across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure you don’t.” Jake’s tone was playful, but there was something deeper there too. He loved seeing you like this—flustered, giggling, the walls you’d so carefully built starting to crumble every time he came around. He reached out and lightly flicked the end of your nose, making you swat his hand away.

“You’re so annoying,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“I try my best,” he said, his smirk softening into something more genuine.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the soft hum of the city outside barely audible against the quiet intimacy of the shop. You glanced back down at the bouquet, still feeling the warmth of his gesture. It wasn’t the first time Jake had done something like this—bringing you coffee in the mornings, showing up unannounced just to chat, slipping in compliments disguised as jokes. You weren’t blind to the hints, the way he looked at you, or the way he seemed to always be around. But neither of you had ever pushed past the comfortable, unspoken boundary you’d settled into.

Not yet, anyway.

You cleared your throat, needing to break the silence before your thoughts spiraled. “So… what am I supposed to do with these? Add them to my collection of ‘Jake’s unnecessary yet sweet gestures’?”

Jake chuckled. “I don’t know, maybe you could just appreciate them.”

“I do appreciate them,” you replied, feeling a little defensive but mostly just shy. You reached for the bouquet, bringing it closer to your face to inhale the soft, floral scent. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He smiled, his gaze softening. “Good.”

You placed the bouquet in a vase, letting your fingers trail over the petals as you arranged them on the counter. The simple act of him bringing you flowers—your flowers—made your heart flutter in a way that surprised you. It wasn’t just the flowers, though. It was Jake, and the way he was always there, making you feel seen in ways that no one else had.

“You know,” you started, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “you’re going to have to stop doing this at some point. People are going to start asking why the florist keeps getting flowers.”

Jake laughed softly, leaning closer to you with that ever-present smirk. “Let them wonder.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, his presence both comforting and exhilarating. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But you love it.”

You felt the words hit you square in the chest, the easy, flirtatious rhythm between the two of you suddenly feeling heavier, more real. But before you could think of a response, Jake pushed himself off the counter, straightening up and flashing you that signature grin.

“Gotta go,” he said, backing toward the door. “But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” you replied, your voice a little breathless as you watched him leave.

The door jingled as he exited, leaving you alone with the bouquet and the lingering warmth of his presence. You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Jake was impossible. But maybe that’s exactly what you liked about him.

do not copy or repost my work. — @ jaysng

[lorei-writes]

Queen's Diary

Chevalier & Queen Michel Queen Michel's POV Gen Fic; Character Study ~500 words Chevlebration Day #2: Royalty/Brothers

I wondered what the last few days before Chevalier's birth were like for Queen Michel... and that seemed like a good place to reference the court, the royalty, and the importance of a heir. >:)

Content Warnings: pregnancy, childbirth

I cannot wait to meet him. I am certain I am carrying a boy, I can already feel it. The name, however… I have brought up the matter with my husband, but he does not seem particularly invested in the matter. Well, that is bound to change once he sees our little Chevalier.

October 27th, 18XX

Dear Diary,

You alone can be the keeper of the entirety of my thoughts. Were I to tell dear Leticia… No, no, I shall not even think of the idea. I fear the consequences. I truly cherish her friendship, but this girl, she is too hasty, far too hasty. Regardless, I do believe I soon shall be rid of any reasons for complaints.

It has been around nine months since my last blood. My belly has swollen significantly, although it appears that my babe has begun to move down. The palace physician believes I will be due in a week at the absolute most.

I cannot wait to meet him. I am certain I am carrying a boy, I can already feel it. The name, however… I have brought up the topic with my husband, but he does not seem particularly invested in the matter. Well, that is bound to change once he sees our little Chevalier.

October 29th, 18XX

Dear Diary,

I am rather restless. I woke up today to hear that my husband has departed for an inspection, although nobody I asked was able to specify which territories he may be visiting.

My baby has been lively. It will happen soon, I am sure of it. My husband will be back just in time to meet our precious boy, his firstborn and the rightful heir to the throne. Until this delight washes away any unsavoury memories, my Leticia will be there to support me.

I am the Queen and I have every intention of upholding the dignity of my position. My babe will be a boy. He will be a boy… My little knight, my sweet Chevalier…

October 31th, 18XX

Dear Diary,

My husband wrote the ministerial office. He’ll be back in a week.

I think it’s starting.

November 2nd, 18XX

Dear Diary,

Yesterday, in the wee small hours of the 1st of November, I bore a healthy boy. My prince cried loudly – the midwives claim his lungs must be strong. Chevalier fed well off his wet nurse and was handed to me after a bath. His skin was red, but has paled since the delivery. He was born without hair. Leticia assures me he is a handsome boy, so I shall believe her. The babes… I was unaware of how fragile they are.

You are just what we have been missing, my knight, and now that you are with us, I am sure my husband will have a change of heart. Who could refuse your tiny hands? Even those dreadful ministers and the nobles, they too will have to acknowledge me… You will only bring me happiness, Chevalier. You’re the true start of our family and I cannot wait to bring you more brothers.

Dividers

Ikemen Prince Masterlist

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[ayyy-pee]

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟲 - 𝗠𝗶𝘅𝗲𝗱 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi - Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Black Female Reader

Summary: A surprise around every corner.

Genre: Pregnancy AU

Story Warning:Smut, Vaginal Sex, Angst, Fluff Sometimes, Profanity, Friends with Benefits, Mental Health Discussions, Therapy, Mental Health Struggles (Suguru), Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Overprotective, Possessive, Accidental Pregnancy, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Reader is black female reader who uses she/her pronouns but anyone can read!

Click here to read on Ao3!

Suguru Art by: Ilameys

A/N: I can't believe I randomly pumped out a chapter of this after like a year+ hiatus. Idk when the next time I'll update this one is so enjoy! LOL

Shoko’s slender fingers swipe along your stomach, a warm towel cleaning the ultrasound jelly from your skin before she gently pulls your gown back down. 

“So…” Shoko breathes as she watches Suguru gently help you to sit up. “Any questions?”

You glance up at Suguru who peers down at you. Your hand still holds his tightly. In his other hand, he holds one of the photos Shoko took of your baby. It matches the one in your free hand. He’s been so quiet, didn’t utter a word while he watched Shoko carefully slid the ultrasound scanner along your skin to take photographs and the measurements of the baby, but you could feel his pulse race with every movement of the tiny being on the screen.

“How far along am I?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, trembling with every syllable.

“Baby is measuring around 18 weeks, give or take a few days. But everything looks good so far, and you’re looking good as well. How’s your morning sickness?”

Suguru shifts next to you, brows furrowed. Since breaking the news to him, he’s been able to put 2 and 2 together and figured out that your months long illness was simply your baby rejecting every attempt to eat or drink anything.

You nod. “It was brutal, but I’m feeling good most of the time now.”

From your peripheral, you see the way Suguru purses his lips together and you half expect him to make a snarky remark. But just like his presence here today, he surprises you when he takes your hand in his and whispers, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

And it has to be the hormones that have tears forming in the corners of your eyes. It’s not his fault he wasn’t there for you. In fact, he had tried to be there for you many times even if he had no idea what the real cause of your sickness was. You haven’t forgotten the endless bowls of soup he’d brought you when he first found out you were sick and refused to see him, or the texts and calls that you rejected when he tried checking on you. You can appreciate that, appreciate him. The fact that Suguru has always been kind to you, always been a friend to you. Even when you weren’t deserving, when you weren’t a good friend to him. You give him a small smile, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently. You don’t need to say anything for your apology to come through loud and clear, because when Suguru squeezes your hand back, you know he’s moved past it.

“Okay. Let me know if it starts back up again. I can prescribe you something to help. Take your prenatals,” Shoko interrupts, not caring in the least about your little tender moment with your child’s father. She stands tall, slipping her hands into her white coat pockets. “It’s crucial for the baby’s health, and yours. Pregnancy has a funny way of fucking with your cursed energy and those vitamins are specially made for pregnant Sorcerers.”

“I will,” You agree and Shoko smiles at you, then at Suguru.

“Alright, I’ll let you get dressed, but you’re all set. Let me know if you have any questions or call me if anything comes up.”

With that she leaves, patting Suguru on his shoulder on her way out. You shoot him a questioning look. “What was that about?”

Suguru slips a hand behind your back, slowly helping you to get comfortable. He shrugs. “Who knows? Do you…” He motions to the door with his thumb. “Do you want me to leave so you can get dressed?”

A small laugh bubbles from your chest. “What would that matter? It’s not like you haven’t seen everything already.” You extend your arm, motioning to the chair where your clothes lie. “Will you hand those to me please?”

Suguru does so without question. He stands there, staring at a point on the wall while you dress yourself, still wanting to be respectful. Now that the appointment is over and Shoko (and the ultrasound machine) are no longer there to act as a buffer, it’s a bit awkward. You slip your shirt on, carefully sliding off of the bed with Suguru’s help. You can’t help but giggle at the way he gently makes sure you’re stable before he releases his hold on you.

”I’m not huge just yet. I’m still able to get around well.”

Suguru just shrugs, a light rose color dusting his cheeks. “Kinda can’t wait to see your belly grow,” he mutters quietly. His words have your heart going into overdrive, and you stare up at him wide eyed. “Can’t ever be careful, by the way. I don’t mind helping you out.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smile fighting to take over and nod. He’s right. You should let him help you. He wants to.

“You hungry?” He asks, carefully slipping the ultrasound picture in his jacket pocket and patting it affectionately. “We can grab some lunch and maybe talk…about everything.”

He holds his hand out to you and you take it immediately. “I’d like that.”

-

“Be back by curfew,” Satoru grunts from behind Ijichi’s desk. He’s got his enormous feet propped up on the day pass paperwork he’s just signed off granting Suguru permission to leave the campus with you. The assistant stands to the side, jittery and sweating as his eyes dart between the former friends. 

This is the norm for Suguru. If ever he needs to leave campus, Satoru is required to sign off on it.

The higher ups probably feel it’s better to have The Strongest around to make sure nothing is amiss when releasing a recovering mass murderer into the public even for a few hours. They must be pretty confident that this time around, he won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.

“I know,” you assure Satoru because Suguru isn't going to. He knows that Satoru isn’t going to acknowledge him. Especially when Satoru makes it painfully clear that he isn't, his entire body turned away from him to face you. If Satoru’s attitude toward Suguru bothers him at all, he doesn’t let it show. He’s leaning against the wall of Ijichi’s office, gaze set on you as you handle what needs to be done. He’s used to this procedure already, so he’s just ready to get out of here.

You sign your name on the dotted line of the last sheet of the stack, agreeing to take on sole responsibility for the man beside you. When you slide the papers over to Satoru, the man sits up, face serious. His lips are set in a hard line and you think he’s looking at you. You really can’t tell behind that damned blindfold of his, but yeah…you’re fairly certain he’s staring at you. You don’t know Satoru all that well. Not even as well as Ijichi, and definitely not as well as Suguru, but to be under the gaze of The Six Eyes probably feels like what you’d imagine being under a microscope feels like. You feel exposed, like everything about you is being laid bare before this man. You don’t like it.

“You done?” Suguru steps in between you and Satoru’s line of sight, and you nod. Pressing a hand to the small of your back, he ushers you out of the office and into the open air where you feel like you can breathe again. You glance back at the office, just barely catching sight of Satoru warping out of Ijichi’s seat, and let out a sigh.

“That was so weird,” you murmur, turning back to stare up at Suguru. “It’s like –”

“He knows,” Suguru cuts you off, staring at the doors behind you. Like he can still see Satoru andt he look on his face long after he’s gone. 

“Huh?”

“He knows. About the –” he glances around, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “About the baby.”

Your heart pounds loudly in your ears, because for some reason, you hadn’t thought for a second that Satoru Gojo - the holder of The Six Eyes - would immediately pick up on the fluctuations in your cursed energy caused by your pregnancy, but you should have guessed. Now what’ll happen? You still haven’t spoken to Principal Yaga about your situation and you’re damn sure not ready to yet.

Suguru takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. He can see your thoughts running a million miles a minute already, so he tells you what he knows will calm you. What he knows without a doubt is the truth. “He won’t say anything.”

“How do you know what?”

Suguru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly as he makes his way across the campus and towards the exit, your hands still clasped together. “Satoru may hate me, may wish I were dead from time to time, and that’s fine. He will never hate me as much as he hates authority, the higher ups and especially paperwork.” 

You find yourself smiling, believing Suguru’s words. 

“If Satoru reported your condition, he’d be required to speak to the higher ups. And then he’d be required to fill out form after form about how he found out and why that makes you ineligible to take on missions. Trust me, he’s going to take this secret to his grave until you or Shoko say something. Then he’ll leave the paperwork to you two.”

Relief floods over you, because you do trust Suguru. You know that he’s right. Who knows Satoru better than his old friend? While Satoru can’t stand the sight of Suguru most days, he’s still fairly the same person from what Shoko and Suguru have told you of their time growing up together. So if Suguru says he won’t say anything, you trust his word.

“But honestly, paperwork is really reason enough for Satoru to keep his mouth shut,” Suguru mutters, and you lean against his shoulder as you burst into laughter.

- 

You sit in a bustling cafe hidden in one of the back streets of Shibuya, waiting at the table for Suguru to bring back your meal. He’d insisted that he didn’t want you standing around if you didn’t need to and instructed you to wait for him. He would hear no arguments about it. This is a fairly new side of Suguru - doting and protective, and each time his hand touches you, your heart rate picks right up. It’s making you confused.

There’s always been a strong physical attraction between the two of you, obviously. But you’ve never entertained the thought of seeing Suguru in a romantic light. You’ve always been able to keep him at a distance simply by reminding yourself that he just isn’t fit to be a romantic partner. He’s damaged, and while he’s working towards being a better man, you’re not sure if he’ll ever truly get there. At least as a romantic partner, because he’s an amazing friend and you have no doubt that he’ll be an incredible father, too. But it’ll be a long while before you both get to hold this baby. Who knows what could happen in the remainder of your pregnancy?

Suguru stands at the counter, waiting for your orders to be finished and it’s the first time since everything has come to light that you’ve gotten to just observe him. Your eyes watch as he exhibits all the nervous behaviors you’ve picked up on in the time you’ve gotten to know him. His lip between his teeth, probably red and swollen from him chewing it so hard. Fingers fiddling with the bun that sits atop his head. Hands slipping into his pockets for all of three seconds before they’re right back in his hair.

You’re sure if you pressed you could probably find out what was on his mind, but then you’re afraid that he’d probe back and you’re not sure if you’re ready to go there with him just yet. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you’re giving thought to what the next step of your relationship should be. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you can’t tell if it’s the pregnancy hormones that have your heart racing as he grabs your order and brings it over to you. Or if it’s the pregnancy hormones that make your eyes water just a bit at the way he carefully arranges your food and drink and asks if there’s anything else you need because he’s happy to grab it for you. Or maybe it’s you, truly feeling this way because it’s the pregnancy showing you your friend in a completely different light.

It’s a strange feeling to look at Suguru this way. No longer your fuck buddy, but now the father of your child and…a potential romantic partner?

”What are you thinking about?” Suguru questions, sipping his coffee.

”Nothing!” You blurt out much too quickly, sipping your drink. Even with his brows furrowed in curiosity, you’re thankful that Suguru doesn’t pry any further.

“Okay…” He unwraps his meal, a black bean burger on wheat. “So, how are you feeling after the appointment?”

For some reason, his concern for you makes your heart swell. Even after you keeping this pregnancy a secret from him, and after everything that followed, his concern is you first.

‘No, his concern is for the baby,’ you try to reason. 

“I feel good. What about you? Wasn’t it so weird to see the baby?” You chuckle, taking a bite of your meal.

Suguru nods. “Yeah, a little. But if anything, it made everything feel a little more real. Like…my child is in there. And before we know it we’ll be holding them.” He shakes his head, eyes roaming your face. “Makes me wonder what they’ll be like…what they’ll look like. Will they have my eyes? Your curls? Will they inherit either of our cursed techniques or one of their own? Or…” he swallows a piece of his burger, but you don’t miss the brief flash of bitterness on his face, disappearing as quickly as it came before he continues, “…what if they have cursed energy at all?”

Your stomach drops, and a wave of nauseousness washes over you. Of course he’s worried about that. Why wouldn’t he be? Cursed energy is everything to him. It’s what separates him, you, all Sorcerers from the rest of the world that he deems too unworthy to be in his presence. Why would he ever want a child that doesn’t have cursed energy?

“...does that make a difference?” You’re scared to ask, but you have to know. Will his child not having cursed energy be the catalyst of whatever this relationship between you two may end up being?

Suguru takes a while to answer. Probably longer than you would have liked. It makes your nerves worse, makes your lip quiver because you’re afraid. You’re so afraid that he’ll look you in the eye and say yes. Yes, it matters to him. Yes, it will make a difference to him whether his child has cursed energy or not. Maybe he won’t be involved if they don’t. And that hurts you more than anything. To think that Suguru may think your child is as worthless as any of the other non-Sorcerers he sees on the streets.

When Suguru finally meets your gaze, he has what looks like something similar to shame behind them.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asks, combing his fingers through his hair. That nervous tick that now you wish you weren’t so familiar with. But you nod anyway. You want to hear him out. “I…” He sighs. You can see the wheels turning in his head, and you know he’s trying to be careful about the words that come out of his mouth next. “I…can’t lie and say I wouldn’t be disappointed if they didn’t have cursed energy.”

You feel yourself deflate. Why was that even important? Why would that matter?

“But,” he interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “I wouldn’t love them any less, I don’t think. Honestly, it’s a confusing feeling. I should probably talk to my therapist about it.” He shrugs, like he didn’t just strap you into a rollercoaster and send you on one hell of an emotional ride. 

“ I want to be there for this baby - for you - no matter what they turn out like.”

You want to cry, burst into tears right in the middle of this cafe. It’s the pregnancy hormones, you swear. It’s definitely the hormones that have you wanting to bawl your eyes out in front of this man and tell Suguru that after everything…after all the pain that you caused him…you’re so happy that he was able to forgive you, so relieved that he wants to be involved, so damn glad that he wants to love his baby. But you tuck away the hope that maybe he’d want to love you, too one day. Because…it’s the hormones talking. 

You were so worried, and for nothing. For Suguru to bring up therapy at all regarding this topic. You know he’s taking this seriously. And all because he wants to be there for you and for the baby. You give him a soft smile, and he shyly returns it.

“I do have one thing I wanted to bring up.” He inhales deeply, steeling himself. “Are you alright with the twins knowing? They always did want a sibling.”

Your heart melts. It’s so sweet that he’d want the girls - his first daughters - to know about the baby on the way.

“Yes! Of course. We can talk about when’s a good time to tell them…”

And you do just that. You plan on when to tell Mimiko and Nanako. You talk about baby names. Does he prefer a boy or a girl? And as you would expect, he’s not picky. As long as they’re strong and healthy. He tells you he hopes they have your eyes - kind and gentle. And you tell him you hope they have his smile, the one you know is genuine. He wants them to have curly hair, just like you. And you want them to be as smart as their father.

It’s oddly domestic, sitting around in this cafe, planning for a baby with a man who just a few weeks ago, you weren’t sure you ever wanted to know about this. It’s warm, comfortable, even safe. But here you are…making it work.

-

You ascend the steps of Jujutsu High with Suguru in tow. He’s slowly following behind you, just in case you slip and fall back and he has to catch you.

“I read pregnancy throws your balance off quite a bit,” he’d told you when he insisted you walk ahead of him. Worry was etched heavily between his brows. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him no.

You’re kind of glad you listened, because you’re practically gasping for air the higher you go. Were there always so many damn stairs here? Why did they need this many steps? And was it always so hard for you to climb up them? Your body feels like you’re dragging a bag of weights attached to your legs, exhaustion slowing you down by the second.

“Fuck this,” you pant, hands on your hips as you pause to catch your breath.

Behind you, Suguru chuckles. He holds his arm out for you and you grab hold, happily letting him drag you the rest of the way.

When you reach the top, a tall figure is already waiting. His thick arms are folded across his chest, eyes taking in the scene between you and Suguru and you quickly separate.

“Principal Yaga,” you breathe, pretending as if you weren’t two seconds from passing out just a moment ago.

“What can we do for you?” Suguru questions, buying you some time to catch your breath again. He’s such a godsend.

“Nothing you can do, Suguru.” He juts his chin out, motioning at you. “I need you on a mission. Leaving tonight.”

“M–me?”

Yaga sighs, like it’s annoying him to repeat himself. And it probably is. “Yes.”

It’s mandatory. You can tell in his tone.

“...okay.”

You can see Suguru in your peripheral, head snapping towards you because what the absolute hell are you thinking taking a mission on in your condition?! But you haven’t told anyone outside of him and Shoko about the pregnancy. And Satoru apparently found out all on his own, that wasn’t your choice. You’re not ready to break the news to Yaga and have all eyes on you. Questions asked by your colleagues and your students, wondering who the father is. Then you’ll have to explain your situation with Suguru. And that’s opening a whole new can of worms.

It’s all things you’re just not ready to touch on yet.

And honestly, you’d rather figure out what your situation with Suguru even is before you let anyone else in on your condition. Are you together? Are you not together? Will you try dating? Maybe not? The situation is complicated. So you can’t turn down this mission. Not yet, at least. Besides, it’s still early enough in your pregnancy that you aren’t showing yet. You can get away with maybe just this one.

Though you’re not sure how you’re going to use your cursed technique when it knocked you unconscious the last time.

Suguru stands idly by, jaw clenched tight as Yaga gives you the briefest of details. He’s careful with what he says. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t fully trust Suguru again yet. Or if it’s because Suguru is not assigned to this mission, so the less information he hears, the better–

“I’m going with her.”

Now your head snaps towards Suguru who is already staring down at you with determination in his eyes. Then his gaze is on Yaga’s.

“I’m going with her, if you’ll allow me, Principal Yaga.”

He’s asking, but like Yaga, it’s non-negotiable.

“Suguru…” Your voice is small, too scared to speak up and tell him it’s a bad idea. But you can see in the way he clenches his jaw, the way he balls his hands in fists, how his nostrils flare…he’s pissed.

It’s probably at you, your negligence in accepting the mission knowing that it’s dangerous and you’re with child - his child. But he holds it together, telling Principal Yaga that he’ll meet him in about 20 minutes after he packs his things. He wants to get more information about this mission that was just so important you had to be the one to go. 

When you call after him, he doesn’t spare you a glance, his low voice sending a chill up your spine when he tells you once more, “I’m going.”

[zigrethsnotebook]

I must warn you: you have a dangerous effect on my heartrate.

Ford x Reader

words: 1,807

tags: sfw, fluff, talk about the supernatural

The rain pelted down as you stared out the window in Greasy's Diner. It was just your luck that the weather turned the way it did when you were in the middle of nowhere. You sighed and took a sip of the hot chocolate the waitress had brought you. At least something to cheer you up.

You eyed the rain angrily when the man in the booth in front of you spoke up. Quite loudly, too, or you wouldn't have heard him over the rain. "The weather is only going to get worse, you know? The forecast predicted a thunderstorm from now until tomorrow." You groaned at that and slouched further into your seat as a nigh cinematic thunder shook the diner.

The man seemed amused. "What brings you to Gravity Falls anyway?" He half shouted through the diner at this point. "A thunderstorm, apparently," you grumbled, more to yourself than him, and also far too quiet for him to hear. He stared at you so you said, louder this time: "I was supposed to meet some friends at a convention on the supernatural tonight. Only about 50 Miles north from here."

The man's eyes lit up at the mention of the supernatural. "That sounds exciting! Sorry, that you won't make it there tonight." You gave him an appreciative nod. You were already annoyed at the shouting.

The man looked down to the cup in his hand for a moment, then looked back up at you, opened his mouth and closed it again before looking out the window as well. After a few moments he had gathered enough courage to speak to you again.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

You kind of did mind. The weather had ruined your day and you weren't exactly in the mood for small talk. Then again, with nothing to do you were already starting to get bored. Maybe he could help you find a place to stay the night if it really doesn't get better out there.

You gestured to the seat in front of you, inviting him into your booth. He smiled, grabbed his cup, walked the few steps he needed to reach you and placed his cup back down on your table as he sat down.

"Stanford Pines." He introduced himself, much quieter now, and held out his right hand for you to shake. You took it without taking your eyes off his face and introduced yourself as well. He raised one of his eyebrows, apparently amused again but you couldn't figure out why.

He had a handsome face, a strong chin, gray hair and glasses that had a little crack in them. You wondered why he hadn't replaced them.

"So... what kind of convention on the supernatural were you talking about? Something worth checking out?" Stanford smiled a genuine smile. You could feel yourself relax a little at that - so he wasn't trying to pick you up.

What a nice change of pace! These last couple months you had had many encounters with disgusting older men who thought they could lecture you on something they pretended to know more about than you. Like how the female body works and other such things.

No, this guy seemed actually interested in that convention. The convention you couldn't go to because of the storm. You sighed sadly and watched his expression fall as well. "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you."

You gave a bitter "Ha." before actually answering. "Unless you are the cause for this storm there's nothing for you to worry about." You sighed again, starting to feel like you're being overdramatic.

"The convention is awesome. It's a yearly event, today would be the... 11th? Year for them. You see, I have a - maybe a little childish - fascination with the supernatural. And every year at that convention they gather all kinds of experts on the topic to talk about their findings. Last year they had that guy who took the photo of bigfoot! And those guys from Ghost Files!"

Stanford listened to you intendly with a small smile on his face as you continued to ramble about your favorite topic.

"I've been to that convention every year for the past 7 years. It's where I met one of my best friends in the world so it would even be special to me if it was terrible." You chuckled at yourself.

"Either way, they live in Canada and I obviously don't, so this is really the only time we see each other. And I mean, I will drive up there tomorrow after the storm settled and we'll still spend the next week together. But today is the opening of the convention - it goes on for 3 days by the way - and I'm just really bummed that I'll miss that."

You had sat upright for your explanation in excitement but slouched back into the seat at your last sentence.

Before Stanford could respond to your story the waitress showed up at your table again and topped off his coffee. "Oh, and another one of that drink, please." He pointed at your empty cup. Oh no, had you misjudged him?

"My, Mr. Pines! Barely leaves his house - but when he does...!" Before she turned to get your drink she winked at you. Or... you thought she did, it was a little hard to tell with one of her eyes constantly closed.

"You don't have to, you know?" You told him, gesturing to his cup and he immediately seemed to falter and blushed terribly. "Oh! Oh no, I wasn't suggesting... It's just. Very rare to find someone who is genuinely interested in the weird and supernatural! I just wanted to prolong our conversation."

The blush stayed on his cheeks as his eyes darted across the room and occasionally landed on you, looking for a reaction to his words. You chuckled. "Oh, I see. That's sweet of you." Maybe what the other men lacked were some manners and common sense.

The waitress set another hot chocolate down in front of you and you smiled at her and when she turned around you smiled at Stanford. After you took your first sip you decided to hear from him a little.

"So you said you like the weird and supernatural as well?" His face immediately lit up. "Yes! I've been studying the weird things happening in this town for years!" He pulled a notebook of some sort out of his coat pocket. It seemed fancy but really worn.

He presented it to you. It had a golden hand with the number 3 written on it on the cover. Something about it was a little off, but you couldn't put your finger on what. A lighting bolt lit up the sky for a second and moments later the diner shook again.

He started to flip through the notebook, talking fast and very enthused. Each page showed various creatures. Most of which sounded ridiculous, but some were more familiar to you - Gnomes, the Undead and so on.

By the time he had flipped through most of the book and explained lots of different things to you, you had each had three more cups of your respective drinks.

The book lay open in front of you as Stanford, or Ford as he later told you, downed his fourth cup. It was also getting late and you still had to find a place to spend the night, the diner would close up eventually.

You closed the notebook, signaling Ford that you would like to talk about something else now. Another thunder shook the tables as you instinctively put your hand over the golden hand on the book.

Just out of your line of sight, Ford blushed again while you realized what had felt off about that cover. The hand had an extra finger! You looked up at Stanford excitedly, and before you could even ask he held up his hands to you, showing off his extra fingers.

That fact did nothing to temper your excitement. How could it! "You are one of the creatures you study!" You had blurted it out without a second thought and quickly covered your mouth with your hands in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude." You told him in a tiny voice. He chuckled fondly. "Don't feel bad, I took it as a compliment! Very few people get excited when they see my hands. Most find them repulsive." He turned his hand around to look at it with a certain melancholy while he said that.

"Are you kidding me? Your hands are the highlight of my day!" Ford met your eyes when you spoke and you watched him blush at your words. Then you blushed as well. "I- I didn’t mean..." You trailed off, unsure how to talk yourself out of that one and instead looked out the window again. The rain was just the tiniest bit softer now.

You sighed and tried to change the subject. "You wouldn't know a nice place I could stay the night, would you?" Ford took his notebook and put it back in his coat. "Of course I do! You could stay at my place." You snapped back to face him, the blush still in full effect on your cheeks.

He didn’t falter this time. "Granted, the place is a little crowded right now, with my brother living there and our niece and nephew staying over for the summer... but they'll be happy to know I made a friend today! And also have someone else to get their minds off the storm."

Ford smiled that honest smile at you again. "Would that be alright with you?" How could you say no to that? Seriously, how?

You nodded and smiled at him. Seconds later he had paid for both of your drinks and led you out the door, both of you rushing to your car.

As you slowly and carefully drove into the woods under Ford's guidance he told you that he would set up a mattress for you in an empty storage room.

"Unless you want to sleep in a real bed, in which case you could sleep in mine, and I would take the couch there." You laughed. "Yeah! We could make a real slumber party out of it and tell ghoulish stories all night!"

Ford chuckled along. "We could do that, but I must warn you: you seem to have a dangerous effect on my heartrate. Unthinkable what would happen if you told me a ghost story."

As he said this you slowly parked your car in front of a wooden house. His house, apparently. "Are you sure that's me and not all the coffee you've been drinking?" You both laughed and then made your way through the rain once more.

Your friend won't believe a word of this tomorrow!

[aplaceinme]

@bucktommypositivityweek

I wrote a fic using the squares: Cowboy Buck and Free Space (Missing Scene).

Summary: What if Tommy had helped Buck decide which costume to wear for the "Firehouse Haunt Fest"?

You can read it on AO3, or here under the cut:

Tommy turned the page of the book he was skimming to as he waited for Evan to come out of the bathroom. 

He had randomly selected a book from Evan’s bookshelf to read while Evan was busy changing in the bathroom. Although it was not something he would normally read, it was interesting enough. He had heard people talking about the five love languages, but he himself had never given it much thought. 

Just as he was analyzing if his love language was acts of service, although he also thought that words of affirmation fit him well, he heard a thump from the bathroom. 

“Are you ok?” Tommy worriedly asked, looking at the bathroom door as if he could somehow see what was happening behind it. 

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” came the muffled reply. 

Sighing, Tommy closed the book and put it on the nightstand. His concentration was completely off now, and his curiosity was piqued.

“What’s taking so long?”

“Hey, I will have you know that perfection takes time, ok?” 

“If you say so…” Tommy muttered. 

Tommy started to drum his fingers on his legs, looking around the bedroom. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips at seeing his clothes carefully folded above the chest of drawers. Tommy was mildly surprised that Evan hadn’t put it in what he called ‘Tommy’s drawer for when he stays over’. Tommy’s heart had melted when Evan told him he had made room in one of his drawers for him. Evan had looked hesitant, almost afraid about Tommy’s reaction. His worry had been for nothing, of course, since Tommy had beamed at him, thanked him profusely and promised to do the same for him at his place. 

His gaze moved to the candles placed in the middle of that same chest of drawers, with little pumpkins at the sides. Evan had also put on some spiderwebs around the picture frames that Tommy had helped him hang up on the wall. 

As their relationship developed, Tommy started to see a huge change in the loft.

He remembered how it was the first few times he came for date nights. While beautiful, the place didn’t exactly feel lived in. There wasn’t much in terms of decoration, it felt almost empty. At first, Tommy had just chucked it as Evan being into minimalism but he was soon proven wrong. 

Tommy figured that he was the one that started it all. He had gotten into gardening after he spent two months recovering from an injury. Therefore, it couldn’t be helped that he brought Evan a succulent to put somewhere in the loft. Evan had adored it and after that, a change happened. 

Soon, Tommy started noticing some knick-knacks here and there. When they went together to the supermarket, Evan would peruse the decoration aisle and ask for Tommy’s opinion on something. Tommy had even helped him decorate for Halloween, Evan’s favorite holiday, as it turned out. 

The loft now looked lived-in and homey. Tommy loved spending time here, though he preferred to have Evan in his home. The last few nights, Tommy had stayed with Evan, and he just knew that the pillows on his bed no longer smelled like him. Tommy would make sure to change that by having Evan spend the night during the weekend. 

“Ok, are you ready?” Evan asked excitedly, and Tommy could picture him bouncing on his toes. 

“I’m ready.”

The bathroom’s doorknob twisted and then the door opened slowly, revealing an Evan fully decked out in a cowboy costume. 

Lifting his eyebrows in surprise, Tommy took his time to look at the outfit, making sure to appreciate every aspect of it. 

From top to bottom, Evan was wearing a light brown cattleman cowboy hat, a red bandana tied to his neck, a long red plaid western shirt with two big pockets on the front, and a big buckle black belt. He also wore some blue jeans and some cowboy boots. 

“You look amazing, baby,” Tommy finally said, starting to feel a certain way. 

Tommy bent his knees and made sure that the sheet was covering him well. 

“Yeah?” Evan asked, slowly doing a spin while smiling brightly. “Do I pull it off?”

“You sure do, trust me.”

Suddenly, Evan’s smile vanished and he started to look nervous. 

“What is it?” Tommy questions, not understanding the sudden mood change. 

“Well… it is actually not complete. The costume, I mean. There is one thing missing,” Evan replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Ok? Then, put it on. Show me!” Tommy smiled, trying to calm Evan’s --most likely unjustified– nerves. 

“I- alright,” Evan said and hurried back into the bathroom. 

Lifting his right hand up to his hair, Tommy ran his fingers through his hair, thinking what could be missing from the costume. A riding crop?, he thought, vaguely interested in the idea. 

The sound of the boots brought Tommy back from his thought and made him look up, and promptly burst out laughing. 

“Tommyyyy,” Evan whined, pouting and crossing his arms across his chest. 

Evan was wearing a truly ridiculous and awful mustache. If Tommy wasn’t mistaken, it was the style called “the painter’s brush” and it was not a good look on him. Besides, Tommy had had enough of looking at Eddie with one, thank you very much. But this was just for one night, so it was okay. He hoped that Evan would not get any ideas.  

“Sorry, I’m sorry, love,” Tommy said, trying to calm down by breathing deeply. “It was just a surprise, that’s all.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Evan asked, “Is that so? Ok, then, what do you think?”

“Yes, yes, it compliments the entire outfit.”

“Great!” Evan said, the smile returning to his face. “Now, I will change to the next outfit. One moment, please.”

“Another one?” Tommy asked, confused. 

As the bathroom door closed with a dull thud and the sound of rustling began, Tommy heard Evan reply, “Yes, you gotta have options.” 

Tommy nodded his head in understanding and laid down all the way on the bed, looking at the ceiling. 

He was a little bit jealous that this year it was 118 turn to host the “Firehouse Haunt Fest”. From what Evan had told him, it was going to be something special. Tommy tried to switch shifts with Matt so that he could go and check it out, and steal some candy for himself, but Matt had resisted, saying that Tommy already owed him one from last time. It was ok though, Evan had promised to send lots of pictures, which was something, at least. 

“So?” Evan asked expectantly. 

Tommy looked up and promptly choked on nothing. 

“Wow,” Tommy breathed out. “You look… that outfit… you look amazing.”

Evan was wearing another cowboy outfit, but this one was different. For starters, he had a white undershirt and, above that, an olive-yellowish plaid shirt with two patches of black in the area of the shoulders, pecks, and neck that were embroidered with flowers. It was worth mentioning that the three top buttons of the shirt were undone, which made it possible to see the undershirt and Evan’s neck as well as the top part of his chest. On the bottom, he was wearing black trousers, not jeans, and the way they hugged his thick thighs and ass made Tommy want to rip them right off. 

“Ok, based on the way you’re looking at me right now, I’m going to say this outfit is officially a success,” Evan said, smirking. 

That comment brought Tommy back from his X-rated thoughts and he lifted his gaze away from those marvelous thighs and looked at Evan.

“No, absolutely not.”

“No? Wha- Why?”

“You look too hot,” Tommy explained while gesturing at all of Evan.

“And that’s a problem?” Evan asked incredulously.

Normally, Tommy had never been a jealous guy. Even while dating Evan, he had never been jealous before or felt possessive over him. Whenever someone would check Evan out in front of him, or even try to flirt, Tommy would usually smirk and feel pride that he was the one that Evan wanted. 

However, something about this specific outfit made Tommy feel as if it should be for his eyes only. 

“Think of the kids, Evan. You can’t look this hot in front of the kids,” Tommy said lamely, not believing the excuse himself. 

By the skeptical expression on Evan’s face, he also didn’t believe it. 

“Just go with the red one, please,” Tommy pleaded. 

Sighing and throwing his hands up in the air, Evan agreed. “I’m going to take this off then.”

“No!” Tommy yelped, kneeling down on the bed with one arm stretched out towards Evan.

“Jesus, what?” 

Evan’s furrowed brows cleared when he looked down and saw just how much Tommy liked the outfit. 

“Oh?” Evan asked teasingly. 

“I told you you look hot, don’t act surprised.”

Spreading his legs and cocking an eyebrow, Evan continued in a flirty tone, “I just didn’t know the cowboy thing would do it for you.” 

“Yeah, well, you know what they say, ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ or whatever,” Tommy growled. “Now, get over here, and let me take that outfit off you.” 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you said that,” Evan said, chuckling. “What happened with my cool but also hot pilot? Are we already in that stage of our relationship where you show how you really are? And what you are is a giant dork!”

Tommy looked down at himself and then looked at Evan with a raised brow, and in a deeper voice said, “Come here and I will show you hot:”

Evan started to swagger to the bed, looking even hotter, and exuding confidence. Once he reached the edge of the bed, he kneeled down in front of Tommy and leaned over to kiss him. 

“Wait,” Tommy stopped him with a hand on Evan’s chest. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Please, lose the mustache first,” Tommy pleaded, though in all fairness, with enough time, it might do it for him. However, that was probably just because it was Evan, and Tommy couldn’t resist him no matter what.

Evan laughed, head tilted back, exposing his neck, which would be covered in hickeys come morning. It was a good thing that he was planning on wearing that bandana. 

[spymeister]

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» Setting boundaries you're comfortable with is not considered a bad thing.

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» Please realize that if a rule is set for a particular reason, you were not the one that became the necessary catalyst, but there is an unspoken request for you to abide by the said rule.

Tumblr is, both unfortunately and fortunately, operating on an honor system. It means that for the most part, people do abide by it, but there are those that will willfully ignore that system in favor of getting their way. It is, again, unfortunately, a reason that has led to blanket rules about interaction.

But it is not there out of any meanness to a particular individual.

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Mutuals must be over the chronological age of 18 to interact with the mun. The mun also realizes that lying can, and will happen- but the mun will trust the mutual to be honest about their demographics.

The mun promises to read and abide by all rules set forth by the mutual in matters of preference, interaction, and guidelines.

The mun will also provide rules and dossier of roleplay character if requested.

[aralioideae]

like i knowww the intense sadness and bottomless despair are fake and just my brain being silly because it doesnt like winter but its hard to remember that sometimes when things do kind of suck actually? because things do kind of suck actually

[billpottsismygf]

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[tchotchkez]

😮‍💨

[sorry for the hardcore tag rants, y'all]

[orcelito]

Honestly tho it's the "I don't love you" and "every time I said it was just automatic impulse" that's got me the most messed up. Like u couldn't even let me down softly by saying it just wasn't working out? You had to essentially tell me the whole thing was a lie??? After I TOLD you I had trust issues and felt like everyone is just going to leave me in the end???

Way to make me feel unlovable lol

[medicinemane]

Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood

Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something

"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"

Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay

Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do

Murderer

[website-com]

i feel physically ill whenever i have to defend my opinion

[teardropsonsmyguitar]

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