#not perfect but i'm still like really proud of the effort i put into this frfr

[wereverine]

ignoring that i was talking abt this like a week ago,, but look it's my lil guy (possibly again i still can't figure out if these were posted here) did these in 2021 and it was my first attempt at doing a minotaur and i'm happy with how it came out :)

[just-jordie-things]

the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi

word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that) warnings: swearin' summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway. (a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it

___

“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly.  “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?” 

And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t.  It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends.  The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.

He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition.  He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting.  Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.  

Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store.  But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.

Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town.  As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.

Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake.  It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.

“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?” 

Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster.  He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera.  His brows wrinkle.

“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle” 

He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics.  He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold.  He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.

“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again.  “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow.  He doesn’t dislike her company.

Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture.  It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.

“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.

“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable.  “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now.  “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.

He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him.  “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny” 

Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.

He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today.  However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject.  His palms began to sweat.

It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether.  So that narrowed down the options by a lot.

He knew that like him, she liked to read.  But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.

Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it? 

“Wait, stay right there!” 

Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place.  Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.

“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face.  “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.

Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything.  When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face.  Nobara wouldn’t be happy.

But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.

“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him.  “It’d be nice to—” 

“Stop moving” 

He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens.  (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.

“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.

Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him.  For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.

She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat.  It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.

“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki” 

That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture.  “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?” 

“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young.  “Dozens, at least.  It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything” 

When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face.  Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors.  “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases. 

Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top.  She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.

He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.

(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.

“Was he a scrapbook mom?”

He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t.  Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth.  She’s laughing before he even explains.

“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her.  “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly.  (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up.  “It took him weeks.  I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month” 

“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.

“I wish I was.  I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged.  “But it’s… a lot.  Every sheet was three dimensional.  The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat” 

He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now.  Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous.  If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs.  That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.

“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind.  “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive” 

“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.

“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot.  Megumi waits beside her.  He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch.  “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little.  All parents say it goes by fast” 

She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise.  Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was.  But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor.  But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.

He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.

When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.

“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos.  Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.

Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower.  It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away.  Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.

“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.

“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.

“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will.  He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled.  Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.

“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head.  “Take my photo like this!” 

It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.

Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.

Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk.  Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.

Hang outs never turned out like this.  Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline.  She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away.  It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.

Today was like a gloomy day miracle.  He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself.  All of her laughter and smiles were only for him.  It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.

(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up.  She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.

“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop.  (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends.  “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her.  “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.

After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back.  Just because it was nice to be so close to him.

Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers.  There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.

“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.

“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.

He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter.  She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.

Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit.  After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.

And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything.  Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.

“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon.  “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”

“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him.  “Doesn’t have to be realistic.  Don’t you have a dream pet?” 

“I kinda already have a lot of pets” 

“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks.  Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly.  But it was really cute.  “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.

He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face.  (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.

“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.

“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.

“I’m eating—” 

“So? Not like you have food on your face.  Hush.  Go back to eating or something” 

“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat” 

“Alright then just sit there then” 

She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late.  Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.

The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.

“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table.  “Guess I win” 

(y/n) laughs to herself.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down.  “But I can’t believe you finished before me”

“How many do you have left?” 

Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left.  She frowns as she looks back up at him.

“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?” 

___

Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands.  (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing.  By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.

“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—” 

But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.

The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling.  It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.

The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe.  Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.

Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.

“What the—?” 

Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower.  At least that one captured her smile.  She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously

“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude” 

“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.

He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now.  If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice.  He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.

So Nobara kept flipping.

One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch.  It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.

The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame.  Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.

There was a decent one taken from inside the shop.  (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets.  Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one.  Almost.

And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face.  Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.

Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi.  Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him.  It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.

He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.

“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.

“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use.  Nobara’s already speaking over him again.

“It’s almost pathetic, dude.  Just ask her out like a normal person” 

His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock.  Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something.  But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action.  Maybe he should have assumed that already.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well.  Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.

The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands.  There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.

“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends.  “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong.  But I think she should pay him for his time” 

There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out.  He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.

“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.

“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store.  “I want to get boba before home” 

“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly.  “Let’s go” 

As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him.  After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance.  Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.

(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.

“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket.  Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.

“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands.  She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy.  “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.

Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.

“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful.  (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack.  He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.

“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway.  But… they’re sort of all..” 

His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.

The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him.  He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there.  She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.

The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.

The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing.  He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt.  He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was.  But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been.  He was actually smiling.  

Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture.  He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.

He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.

So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one.  Which was… also him.  It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.

When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.

She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile.  His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.

And to his shock and delight, they’re all him.  Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.  

His favorite is the one of the both of them.  She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style.  They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself.  She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign.  Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know.  It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too. 

Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back.  She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.

Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.

“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.

“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.

He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures.  When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing.  His throat is too dry and hot to even try.  He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.

(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken.  His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him.  Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.

And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos.  His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life.  He very well could pass out at any moment.  He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.

The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle.  It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably.  As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves.  They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.

When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile.  She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.

“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes.  This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.

(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her.  She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.  With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.

“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?” 

He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to.  But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.

“You mean— like, a date?” 

It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification.  (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.

“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.

Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it.  Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.

“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not.  The look he gives her barely hides his panic.

“They’re gonna see them?”

“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.  

The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar.  The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively.  That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.

“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”

(y/n) nods in agreement.

“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.

With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him.  Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted.  It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body.  He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—

“So… where do we want to go?”

—and more days to come. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[dorabellingham]

Be like them

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you want to straighten your hair to go to an event with him, but your boyfriend doesn't really like the idea

request: yes (sorry I had to change a little because i couldn't write it)

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You looked in the mirror, holding a lock of your hair, still damp from your shower, as you scrolled through Instagram. Jude had mentioned that Real Madrid was hosting a special event to launch their new kit, a premier that would bring together players, coaching staff and some of the WAG's. He invited you to go with him, and the simple invitation was enough to make you think about how to get ready.

From what you saw in the photos, all the women were incredibly sophisticated, with straight, perfect hair, impeccable in every detail. Suddenly, your own curly locks seemed a little... out of place. You never had a problem accepting yourself, but when you imagined yourself next to your boyfriend at that event, doubts arose. Maybe it would be better to straighten your hair just this once, to have a look more in line with the other women's style.

Later, Jude came into the room, already changed for a dinner they were planning before the event. Seeing you standing there, with a lost look, he slowly approached you and hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

—What are you thinking?

He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You gave a weak smile and hesitated before answering:

—I was thinking about straightening my hair for the premiere. I think that way I would look more... —You paused, not knowing how to finish. —More like the other women.

Bellingham frowned and looked at you in the mirror, clearly surprised.

—And who said you have to be like them?

He asked, with a touch of disbelief in his voice.

You sighed, trying to put into words what you felt.

—I know it's silly, but... have you seen what they look like? Each one more stunning than the other, and they all have such a... polished style. I think I would look better with straight hair, more "sophisticated".

You said the last word with a tone of uncertainty, as if you didn't even believe it.

Bellingham let out a soft, affectionate laugh, squeezing you a little tighter in his arms.

—Honey, you’re beautiful just the way you are. And besides that. —He smiled, looking into your eyes in the mirror. —I love your curls. We’re the curly couple, you know? I don’t know what I would do without those curls by your side.

You laughed, but you still seemed a little hesitant.

—Jude… you know I’m proud of my hair, but… it’s just that at this kind of event, maybe I should be a little more… “elegant”? I don’t know if that makes sense. I guess I just don’t want people to think I don’t make an effort to be by your side.

He turned around, holding your face gently and speaking with a softness that you loved.

—It makes perfect sense. But who cares what people think? I wouldn’t trade those curls for anything. They’re part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you. —He stroked a lock of your hair, twirling it around one of his fingers. —By the way, I want to be the guy who arrives with the most beautiful and authentic girl of all, the one who doesn't need to change a thing to be amazing. And, in my humble opinion, you already are. Totally.

You couldn't help but smile. Jude always had a way of making you feel valued, even when you tried to find fault with yourself. Still, doubts insisted on appearing, and he noticed the glint of uncertainty in your eyes.

—I know it's easy to say, but I'll show you that I'm not joking.

He said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and opening the gallery. He showed you several old photos of the two of them together, taken throughout their relationship, almost all during simple, quiet moments of everyday life. In all of them, your curls appeared naturally, and Jude always seemed enchanted by you, with a sparkle in his eyes that spoke for itself.

—See? — He smiled. —It's not your straight hair that will make me find you more beautiful. It's you. It's the way you smile, the way you look when you're comfortable and happy. And that's it. —He ruffled her curls slightly with a playful smile. —That's what I love.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of expectations dissipate a little.

—I guess I'll trust you, then. And let the curls be successful, right?

You said, half joking.

—That's my girl! —Jude replied, kissing you on the forehead with a proud smile. —Besides, the curls make you even more unique, and I love knowing that I have someone so incredible by my side. Let the other WAG's stay straight; I want to be with the most special one.

On the night of the premiere, as you were getting ready to go out, he could barely take his eyes off his girlfriend. You had put on a blue dress that highlighted your skin, and your curls were loose, forming a perfect frame around your face. He smiled when he saw you, feeling incredibly proud to have you by his side. As you approached the event, photographers and fans surrounded you, and you noticed the looks and whispers around you. For a moment, insecurity tried to return, but when you looked at Bellingham, you saw only a glow of admiration and love on his face.

—See? You don’t have to change a thing.

He whispered, holding your hand firmly as you walked together.

The curly-haired couple, as he joked, shone that night, drawing attention and leaving a unique mark. And you realized, amidst the flashes and Jude's affection, that their authenticity was their true strength, something that no one could take away.

[finalgirlmorgue]

🍵༘PANCAKES🥯⊹ ࣪ ˖

„⤵ MILD ANGST and fluff! „⤵ 2 / (?) PARTS „⤵ JASON TODD X READER Jason is getting settled in his new home, after showing up at your door last night. Jason is a dead man walking, but he still needs you. Read PT 1 here! AFFECTION ROTS Reblogs much appreciated

The two of you eventually found the couch. You sat next to him, putting a throw pillow's distance between the two of you. Much to his disappointment. Jason was more clingy then he had ever been before. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. A few hours passed. You had both fallen asleep sometime after midnight. That morning he explained everything as best as he could to you, his death at the hands of the joker, the crowbar, the ressurection. Despite the granted confusion you followed as best you could. He told you everything. Everything that happened from the moment he died. He really missed you, despite the two of you being dumb in love teeangers. He still saw a future with you, and you were wary to admit you weren't sure you saw the same. He was diffrerent. Bigger, taller, stronger. And somehow more alive, than anything before. “I'm sorry." You managed to say. You felt like such a coward. You couldn't handle touching him, or holding his hand.

“I can't blame you. It'll take some time." He said sadly. You could see in his eyes that he was blaming himself. "You're doing great… I really am proud of you. Just wish we could've done all this… together, y'know?" he said the last part quietly, almost a whisper. You looked down, unable to hold eye contact.

"Things are a little bit different now. You know that right? I can't change my past. Even though I'd like to." You spoke slowly. "You know, it's gonna take some time. I don't regret our relationship. Never have."

”You're serious, huh?" he raised an eyebrow. It was nearly commical. You were devestating him with every word you spoke. "I wanted us to do this forever, you know? Like… forever. You've always been on my mind.. guess I should've known things weren't gonna stay the same. You're not fifteen anymore.." he mumbled.

He had a faraway look in his eye. You wondered how much of this story he had clearly made up inside his mind depended on you reciprocating his tender feelings. But you knew this was his way of trying to comfort you, despite his broken soul. He would give you time… "Do you remember our first date?" He suddenly asked. He smiled shyly, looking down at his lap. The image came unbidden to your mind, vivid and perfect. You remembered how much effort he put into planning. He was more thorough then any man. He was attentive, and a good listener. So why were you hesitant..? Maybe it was his dependency. “Um. Yes I remember- Um.. do you want breakfast?.." You said weakly, standing up and turning towards the kitchen, leaving him to his own thoughts. "I can make us something quick…" You heard him sigh in disappointment. When you finally turned around again, his elbows were on his knees. He was curled into himself. You knew he was trying to be strong. But it was hard to admire his strengths when he looked so pitiful.. It broke your heart. "I'm making pancakes.. Do you want some? They're grainy but- edible." You offered hesitantly.

“Yeah.. sounds good.” His voice cracked. He didn’t have a good relationship with food. After the truama of his death and even before that with the joker, he hadn’t been hungry at all. He never wanted food.. and when he did it threw it up promptly. Food always felt unsafe to him. And that included food cooked by you.. which seemed ironic, because he would have worshipped the ground beneath you if you asked him to.

He wondered if he watched the whole process of cooking from start to finish if he would feel better about it. He could trick his brain into understanding he was safe.

“God you’re so gorgeous..” He sighed. “I’m tired of falling for you all over again… s’not fair. Why can’t I have you?” You paused, setting the pan on the stove as it heated up. Melting the butter into a bubbly golden liquid. There was no denying he had changed a lot. He went from 4”6 to an even 6 foot. You could see the stretch marks that painted his hips whenever he lifted his arms up. Despite your ‘disinterest’ in him romantically, you would still take small peeks and glances whenever his shirt rode up, revealing some of the new muscle he had gained.

His sudden growth wasn’t unwelcome, it was just shocking that he had grown that much within the span of a few years. Especially considering he had always been smaller than you.

But you had accepted his advances with only halfhearted interest. Even if he was a handsome behemoth of a man today. But it was hard to deny the fact that when he looked at you like he did now, you felt a lingering warmth.

He hadn’t lost his charm. He still knew how to make you blush and smile. But maybe you were too afraid of losing what you shared with him.. again..

As you began making the pancake mix he kept his gaze trained on you and the food. He was obviously enthralled with it.. “I like strawberries.” He smiled softly, watching you work through the recipe. He’d always loved watching you cook. It reminded him of home.. it was vaguely reminiscent of Alfred. Even if he hated the Waynes he still missed having a family. “They remind me of you.” He continued. “Those soft, shiny pinkish red ones…” You nodded along to his words. He was always so sentimental.. “They smell like spring.” He added, smiling slightly. You felt yourself relax at his words. He could be sweet sometimes, despite the fact he was now, 10x his size, strength, and power. He was probably better at a lot of things now, you didn’t want to know what he would do to any of the failed relationships you had in your contacts still... But it was clear he still had that innocent side that you once loved. Jason was like weathered plastic in the garden, his old self was fading, but the spots where the sunlight hadn’t burned away the old Jason todd were still as vibrant and tender as ever. He seemed happier than usual too. His cheeks had begun to lighten up again, his skin seemed to glow from just having seen you again.

The food was ready, and you brought him over to the table. “I’m not an amazing cook, but I hope it’s okay….” You handed him the fork. He was silent for a while, staring at the plate in front of him.

“I uh.. I’m usually not so good with food but this does look really good I promise. It feels like I constantly have the flu. My mind is all fucking broken.."

"You deserve a break." You said, sitting opposite of him across the table. Your fingers intertwined tightly with your own beneath the table, under the table. You tried to suppress your nerves. He needed comfort and support now, you couldn't give him more. "You're here.. With me.. That's something." You said, trying to encourage him.

“I still want you. So bad..” He mumbled. His fork clinked against his plate as he set it down gently. You took a deep breath. You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t ready to talk about your problem with the matter of your relationship. You just wanted him to eat, and try to get better..

“Jason-“ You warned.

“Do you still love me?” He interrupted. He was trying to sound calm, but he was clearly agitated. The question threw you off guard. He looked at you with wide, desperate eyes. “Answer honestly. I need to know.” You hesitated.

“Yes.” You answered truthfully, not able to hide the hurt on your face.

“You don’t even want to touch me…” he muttered dejectedly.

“You died- I was at your funeral.. I don’t understand how your here right now..” you said firmly. “I’m just… confused, ok? I thought I understood everything..” You were trembling. You knew he saw, he understood. You didn’t know how to deal with the guilt gnawing at your stomach.. You hated seeing him this upset. “I miss you..” he whispered, staring at you with pleading eyes.

You lowered your gaze and shook your head. “I’m sorry- you.. Do you have a place to stay?..”

“Are you kicking me out?..”

“Well no- but I feel bad for making you sleep on the couch.” You explained. “You’ve done nothing wrong.. I’m sorry… do you want to stay?”

He remained silent and slowly ate the food placed in front of him. His lips forming into a thin line. He looked exhausted. But he was eating the meal you had made, albeit reluctantly and very slowly. It took him about 20 minutes, as he finished every bite without looking up or saying a word.

“Yeah. I want to stay here for a bit.” He replied after he finished chewing. You nodded, relieved. He pushed back the chair and stood up. He looked exhausted.

“I’ll get you some blankets.” You said quietly, walking back to your room to bring some out to him. While searching your closet, you heard soft footsteps behind you. Your body froze for a split second. Just Jason.. Just Jason…. Then you relaxed. You pulled out two fluffy blankets. You walked back towards him, throwing them over his shoulders. He let out a content sigh at the warmth. “It smells like you…” he mused. He looked so at peace. Like you had injected life into him for the first time since he got here.

He grabbed one pillow from your bed and squeezed it. He closed his eyes, feeling the soft material against his skin. You couldn’t help but smile softly. He looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky. A sense of wonder and relief washing over his features. He turned to the doorway, making his way to the living room.

The television flickered dimly on your TV stand. Your DVD’s stacked high, mostly disney and other classics. “I love you so much..” he murmured, looking around your home.

“I…” You paused. “Know.. you do..” you trailed off, not knowing how else to respond. It felt weird hearing those words come from him. You spent nights hoping to hear those exact words just.. one more time. Hearing them now..

“Where were you?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming guilt weighing down your chest.

“Oh y’know…” He shrugged. “Just…” he laughed awkwardly before sitting down on the couch. “Just running around doing shit. Nothing serious.” He admitted. “But I was able to find you eventually. I actually used to sit in the parking lot and stare at your apartment door, waiting for you to open it..” he looked embarrassed to admit that, scratching the side of his jaw. You chuckled lightly at that image. “You should have seen it, though! I sat there until my legs went numb and then I finally decided to walk away because I felt kinda creepy sitting there watching like that..” He grinned, remembering how pathetic and childish it sounded. “But, I had to see you last night. I had to talk to you... See how you were...” He said, sadly. “God…I’m really messed up.” He sighed, dropping his gaze onto the floor. You frowned as you noticed his mood swing.

“I missed you too-… I’m glad you’re back, and I’m sorry I’m being so cold.” You apologised.

He gave you an understanding glance, “you can be pretty difficult to read these days.. I just.. I hope you can understand my intentions. I still want you.”

“Night Jay.” You stood up, attempting to run away from the topic. “I have class in the morning. I gotta get some sleep. I have a presentation coming up.” You walked towards the bedroom, but stopped. You didn’t want to leave him alone yet. What happened wasn’t fair. “I’ll be back around 12 or so.. tomorrow.”

“Goodnight baby.” He sighed, laying down on the couch. You smiled at his nickname.

He stayed sleeping in his makeshift bed the whole evening, until 4 am or so when he slipped out from the blankets and into your room. He was just getting up to check on you, but eventually it became him… getting a closer look.. getting in bed. and passing out next to you. These blankets were big enough to cover him completely, no cold feet. There was barely any distance between you.

“Night..” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He laid down facing away from you, but in his mind he was holding you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you. ...

[gadzin-a]

This one's for all of my uni girlies that get fucked up by their exams studying sessions (it's me, I'm the girlies)

tw: none, slight touching and suggestive stuff just at the end, Simon is in his late 30s, reader's in her mid 20s

olderboyfriend!Simon, whose girlfriend is still in uni, getting her degree. Wether it's MA or PhD, you work as hard as you can. Of course you have a part time job, but you still come to classes, work on assignments and take exams at the end of each semester, focusing more on studying than anything else. And for Simon it's so adorable

He never thought of going to uni himself – his life was always military and that was it. Seeing how much effort it takes to get a passing grade still surprises him. And don't get me wrong – Simon is a smart, intelligent lad, of course he'd do well at university just like you do – it's just that he prefers physical, dirty work, not academic stuff

But seeing you so tired, with dark circles under your eyes, and messy hair – he understands that uni life is tough in its own way. Especially during the exams session, which you take very seriously

You're sitting at the kitchen table, a big ass mug full of coffee on your right, your laptop and several different notes on display as you do your best to memorise difficult terminology. It's late, really late, and you are so tired and overstimulated, but you keep trying. The oral exam is in two days and you know you can't fuck it up

He sneaked behind you and put some biscuits on the kitchen table. Something sweet to snack on was just the thing you needed, he knows you so well

And Simon, being your supportive, caring boyfriend, is so proud of you, seeing how hard you try to get that degree and have a fulfilling, successful career

'How you're doing, love?'

'Poorly, Simon, just poorly' you sigh and hide your face in your hands. There's no better answer than this one

'C'mon, can't be tha' bad, can it?' he coos, his big hands now on your shoulders to massage those sore muscles a bit

'You're right, it's not that bad, but I'm so tired...' you slightly lean back, letting him spoil you a bit 'I don't know how much longer this is going to take, but I'm gonna get that fucking perfect grade'

Simon just hums with content and gives you a kiss on the top of your head. You are so smart, studying so hard and doing so well for your own, better future. He admires how stubborn you can be - in the military there's no room for slacking either and he definitely can appreciate putting a lot of effort into a job well-done

He's kissing your hair again and again, slowly going down with every next one, placing them on your nape and shoulders, where the fabric of your jumper leaves the skin bare. His big hands sneak under your clothes, now his fingers massaging your breasts, toying with your nipples teasingly. You moan silently and reach behind to grab Simon by his short, blond hair. Your breath is getting faster and a bit more shallow, your pussy getting wet with his touch

'Atta girl, study for your school a bit more, yeah?'

'Unless you wanna take a break?'

[rogueddie]

I'll Be Here T | 1,187 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is being willing to wait for them

Eddie has always known that, one day, Steve would move to the city with Robin so he can finally go to college. Eddie has grown too aware of Steve, his tells and how much he needs Robin.

When he first brought up college, he was venting about how horrible it would be to go so long without seeing Robin.

Eddie had struggled to hold back his laughter, painfully aware that he wasn't actually venting. He was trying to find an excuse to follow her. He was trying to convince himself that it would be worth putting the effort in to go to college too.

So, when Steve shuffled in one day, concerned but excited? Eddie wasn't surprised.

"I got in," he'd started. "To college, I mean. I applied with Robin and... I got in."

"That's amazing," Eddie said. "Baby, I'm so proud of you."

And he was. He was so extremely proud and excited.

But, when the day finally came for Steve to leave, he found it hard to bring those emotions back. He hated how clearly Steve could see through his forced grins.

"I'm fine," Eddie had insisted when Steve asked. "Really. I'm going to miss you, but this is so good for you. I'm so excited to hear about what you're going to do."

"I'll call," Steve promised, arms tight around him in a hug. He only pulled back to litter Eddie's face with kisses.

And, as promised, Steve called as soon as they arrived in their new dorm. Eddie could hear Robin babbling in the background, excited about their tiny little space, whilst Steve tried to hold in his laughter long enough to spew his usual romantics.

He'd called the next day too, to let Eddie know how they'd settled in and talk about all the different activities he was planning on checking out. There was even a D&D group that made him think of Eddie, that he didn't join simply because he wants his first game to be with him.

It wasn't until the next week that he called again. Steve spent the entire call gushing about a teacher who'd sat down with him and talked him through all his options.

"I'm going to be a teacher!" Steve had finished his speech off. "For, like, middle schoolers!"

"That's amazing!" Eddie replied. "That's- Stevie, that's perfect for you! You're gonna be amazing!"

"Yeah? You really think so?"

"I know so."

Steve had warned him that he would be busy, that he wouldn't be able to call as much.

It still made something deep in Eddies chest ache when another week would go by with no news from Steve.

Eddie wasn't worried though. Not really.

Especially when he came back with Robin for Christmas.

He hadn't been able to stay more than three days but, the entire time he was back in Hawkins, he was glued to Eddie. He grabbed and held on, as if he was finally able to breathe. As if he would die if he didn't get to touch Eddie for one second longer.

Robin constantly joked that she was going to need a crowbar to pry him off of Eddie.

She was almost right. It had taken him so long to say goodbye that they left more than an hour later than they had originally planned.

Eddie waved to them as they drove off. He was surprised at how excited he felt- it would only be a year until he got to see Steve again.

They'd been reluctant to admit their plans to stay in their dorms over summer break, but Eddie had encouraged them.

It was a good idea after all.

"But he could be doing anything," Mike had frowned, confused at how calm and content Eddie was. "With anyone. And he's not talking to you! Doesn't that make you... I don't know, worry?"

"No?" Eddie frowned back. He didn't understand why the kids were so confused. "Steve wouldn't do something like that. I know that, so what do I have to worry about?"

"You're just gonna wait around forever then?"

"Nope. He's just at college, kid. He's gonna come back and, when he does, I'll be right here."

When Steve went into his second year, he had settled enough that he started calling once a month.

It quickly became Eddies favorite time of the month and, if anyone tried to get him to do anything else on the day, he would blow them off. He couldn't be late home- not when Steve was going to call.

"I miss you," Steve would always say, in lieu of a greeting.

"I miss you too, baby," Eddie always mumbled back. He would cradle the phone close, with both hands, as he did.

"I keep thinking about you," Steve promised.

He would say it every call, repeating it as though worried that Eddie might forget. That Eddie might doubt that.

Eddie would always divert the conversation before Steve could spiral too much.

He always gave the same farewell when it came time for Steve to hang up so he could study or take part in whatever activity Robin has dragged him into that week.

"I'll be here," Eddie always said. "Don't worry about me. I could wait forever for you, big boy."

The third and fourth year went the same as the first.

Each Christmas was glorious. But, for the third Christmas, they'd managed to organise enough so they could spend a whole week in Hawkins.

Eddie insisted on taking polaroids of them. His favorite is the one he'd snapped of Steve, who was unaware, soft and sleepy in Eddie's kitchen.

"This is the last year," Steve told him, at the start of his fifth year. "Just this year, then I'm coming home."

One more year. It was the phrase that had been getting Eddie through the waiting, but it didn't help anymore. It only made it worse.

He couldn't stop thinking about how, when Steve does come back, he's staying.

Wayne helped him move out the trailer, and into his own. It wasn't any bigger than Wayne's, but it was enough for Eddie. He knew it would be enough for Steve.

The hideout didn't pay well, but Eddie was careful with his government hush money. He had plenty, more than enough to last a lifetime if budgeted right.

He made sure everything was ready for Steve. He made sure their home was ready.

And, when Steve does come home, all Eddie feels is love.

"Welcome home," Eddie says, leading him into their trailer.

"Oh, it's perfect," Steve whispers.

Eddie can hear the genuine awe in his voice. He grabs Steve, turning him around so he can finally see the expression too.

"You're so beautiful," Eddie says. "God, I missed you so much."

Steve practically throws himself at Eddie, their teeth clashing harshly with how hard Steve kisses him.

"Fuck," Steve groans, holding Eddie's face in both his hands. "You really waited for me all this time- Eds, God, I love you so much."

"I love you, too. I love you, more than anything, baby. You're worth the wait, you're so worth it."

[kazooku]

So I forgot to post this. Lmao I finished this a month ago (January 30th) and was really proud of it but also tired because holyyyy shit this took days.

I went insane over the background. My first idea didn't work and I put wayyyy too much effort into my second idea, this. Originally I was going to do Triangle Park but couldn't really find anywhere to place her and then thought of Mount Wildwood's stairs while in the shower and wrote in down in my notes app to do.

Shout out to my friend's who saw me literally about to cry in dining hall over this. Any differences from canon are because of poor refs I was using and I was too stubborn to ask for help until nearly done oopsy. My only background refs for days were low quality screenshots from YouTube, my 3DS, and a switch screenshot from the wiki until I finally stopped being stubborn and asked a sever if anyone had the 4th game and could send me screenshots and holy shit it got so much easier.

This both reminded me why I love drawing detailed backgrounds and why I don't do them often. I noticed quickly how much of the background would be covered but also decided I still wanted to do it. Maybe I could reuse it one day idk

I made a few personal edits to Katie's design here. Why? Because I can lol. Longer bow is a mix of stylization and I just like drawing it, the bow having a yellow gradient because I thought it was cute, brown to green eyes because in 2020 I couldn't decide whether I liked drawing Kenny with brown or green eyes and started drawing him with full heterochromia to do both I decided to refrence that by giving Katie partial heterochromia, zip up instead of button up is a mix of the buttons got covered and they were annoying to draw, bracele is the button colors because they were cute but I was not drawing those damn buttons and I noticed it could be a friendship bracelet with pink for Katie, blue for Bear, green for Eddie, and white for Nate because almost all of his outfits have a white star, stitched heart on hoodie cause I think she's a DIY girl and she's also like 11 so it's not perfect, freckles I just thought they were really cute and I love freckles I wish I had them irl, and lastly any changes to hair are stylization or just because I can like the ahoge.

I'm still really proud of this. Included background without Katie because she covers most of it lol.

[multiverse-sparkles]

Loving him was never enough — B. Barnes.

summary: you allow yourself to feel the loss and the hurt of his betrayal— but after this, you promise yourself; no more. this time, you leave bucky barnes. this time, you put yourself first.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: cheating, ANGST, more angst, allusions to pregnancy, cursing.

part 2 to this

the party was in full swing downstairs; another celebration for a reason you no longer bothered to remember. from the third year of your marriage, banquets and gatherings were a part of your week, either with your husband's business associates or simply just friends getting together for the sake of appearances, it was a chore itself to try and keep up with the latest reason for a celebration of such caliber.

yet you have always played your part well; smiling, cheering, and raising toast when needed be. you've also perfected the charade of a loving husband and wife, sharing ocassional whispers and laughter, perhaps even a lingering kiss; and sometimes, they were welcomed. sometimes, you do feel the tenderness as he gazes at you. you feel the butterflies whenever he would whisper something cheesy on your ears. even the touch of his lips upon yours were enough to renew hope, until, come another day.

but recently, you've only ever been feeling the heavy weight of dread on the pit of your stomach. something ominous, something akin to resentment ; an emotion you've never entertained, despite his numerous indescretions. his blatant disregard for the sanctity of your marriage has finally caught up with you.

bucky finally exhausted your love.

because as you stared at him, in his act of something so sinful, molding his body with another woman, fucking into her with wild abandon; it was like a bucket of cold water has drenched you.

you were suddenly all too aware of your surroundings, and your grip on the knob loosened, only enough to close the door back again.

the frames rattled, the occupants of the bed stilled, and only the patter of drifting footsteps filled the silence.

the same time bucky's blood ran cold in his veins.

you slept in what felt like, the best ten fucking hours of rest; awaking with the bright sun peaking from the spaces of the curtain, even the birds chirping happily, and for the first time in a really long time, you woke up with a contented sigh.

you were back in your old home, it's much smaller in size, and comparatively less luxurious than the estate you lived in, but it was home. and it was yours. something that could never be tethered to the man you called your husband.

automatically, you checked your phone for emails; several missed calls and text messages from bucky himself were what welcomed you, yet you opted to ignore them, instead checking in with your close friend and one of new york's finest; andy barber.

barber: will you be free to come to the office at around ten? i can discuss your options, and we'll have to go through the paperwork to sort out whatever you need to do.

barber: also, while we're at it; i'm proud of you.

for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes, you thought back to your back and forth correspondence the night prior— thinking, had you really made the decision to leave him? was it real this time?

could you live without him?

you'd pondered about the prospect most of your marriage, ultimately coming to a conclusion that it was difficult to eject james out of your system. he was your entire world and existing without him was a thought that couldn't even exist in your orbit. and ultimately; can you really live the rest of your life, chained to a man so warped up in his own selfishness without making the effort to actually consider what you may be feeling?

can you continously gaslight yourself into thinking that he loved you; in his own, twisted way. that he was only so weak of a man to deny the temptations and wants of his flesh— were you not so tired, and broken down by his false promises, that you ache, deep in your soul.

when will you realize that the only person who deserves unlimited forgiveness was yourself, and not the man who promised you forever; but stomped and ran over the tattered pieces of your heart.

your hand touched upon your stomach, a protective instinct blaring noisily in your head; you have not only yourself to think about now.

years of trying had not once bore to fruiton until now— you wipe the hot tears streaming down your face, a sob echoing in the stilness of the room. why was your love so cruel to you? why was it that you had let things go this far with a person such as james?

you cry out. torn and heart wrenching cries as you let yourself feel the years of betrayal, and heartache, promising yourself that this will be the last.

soon.. you hope; soon, you will no longer cry for him.

[ceratedfish24]

Thoughts on Scott and Impulse?

Hello Anon! Sorry I took so long to answer this one. I have strong feelings about Scottpulse, so I wanted to be able to answer this ask in a way that conveyed my feelings properly. However, with traveling to and from Thanksgiving backing up a couple of asks and then going straight into my exams afterwards, I haven't had a lot of time to think this one through.

Scottpulse is the physical manifestation of a warm hug. Those two are fairy lights and pillow forts and the default hosts of Friendsgiving for the Americans.

Impulse would get caught up in how pretty Scott is all of the time. He can't wrap his head around how Scott looks so beautiful in every lighting at every angle. He's just so photogenic all of the time. Impulse isn't a big picture taker, but he takes most of the photos Scott posts on social media. Now, Scott knows that he's pretty. He better be pretty. He puts a lot of effort into looking nice, and he enjoys the attention. However, Impulse is so earnest about how gorgeous he finds Scott to be, and it's his sincerity and emotional vulnerability that makes Scott coy.

Scott is the type to have a panic attack during a horror movie, while Impulse acts tough and big and strong. Meanwhile, Scott is totally calm and comfortable during True Crime shows, while Impulse is completely horrified the whole time. Impulse is all "this is REAL LIFE!! You hate the fictional ones, but this is REAL" and Scott's like "yeah but sometimes it just be like that :)".

Not a day goes by where Scott isn't blown away by Impulse's technical knowledge. He loves to watch Impulse work, and Impulse loves to talk Scott through what he's doing. Scott thinks that Impulse's intelligence is so very attractive, even though Scott, himself, has absolutely no idea what's going on the whole time.

Impulse has talked on the Imp & Skizz podcast about wanting to get really into decorating his home for the holidays, especially since he still has young kids. I can imagine Scott being so excited that Impulse wants to decorate and asking Impulse to make a list of everything in his vision. Then, Scott and Impulse buy some of those big blow-up decorations and DIY a bunch of decorations. They're very proud of it.

Additionally, I've seen some art of Wild Life Episode 7 Impulse in blue and orange as a superhero costume, and it's the same shades that Scott picked for his Transporter New Life SMP character, which is also a character that teleports and swaps places with people. All I'm saying is.... boyfriend clothes :)

Most of the time, Impulse is pretty mild when flirting with friends, but I think he would be a very romantic partner to Scott. It might not be entirely in his nature, but he knows how much Scott really appreciates a big gesture now and then. The first time Impulse set up a big thing, it was a romantic dinner with Scott's favorite scented candles, a home cooked meal he knew Scott would like, and a nice bottle of wine. He wore a black button up with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows and brown dress pants. Scott very much had a "am I being seduced right now" moment when he walked in.

Elle (Scott's cat) and Prim (Impulse's dog) love each other. They're attached at the hip. They always greet both Impulse and Scott whenever they get home regardless of whether or not Impulse and Scott have come home together or separately.

They fret over each other like mother hens when one of them is sick. "What are you doing out of bed?!" "Here, this will boost your immune system." "If you need anything, text or call me immediately. No problem is too small. It's what I'm here for." Homemade soup is their love language.

Impulse loves Pitch Perfect and Taylor Swift. I know Scott loves Taylor Swift, and I have no doubt that he's a Pitch Perfect fan. They would listen to Pitch Perfect and Taylor Swift songs all of the time.

Socially, Scott and Impulse are Yin and Yang. Preferring to spend a most of his time with one or two people, Impulse is a little on the quieter side, while Scott tries to spend a little bit of time with everyone. Combined, they get ALL the gossip.

I don't know how to explain this one, but I just feel like the curtains in their bedroom are dark purple and completely opaque. I am extremely set on this headcanon for no reason. I will die on this hill. Sunlight shines in through slivers between the curtains, creating hard shadows that really bring out the colors of the room in the morning. In contrast, Impulse's hair is so soft under Scott's fingers.

I cannot explain why, but I am extremely dead set on their colors being royal purple and gold. That's their wedding color theme. I literally cannot fathom them as any other colors.

Thank you for the ask!!🩵🩵🩵

[nthewriter]

(Sorry I had writer block ;-; please be advised this chapter can be uncomfortable to read, it's angsty)

Being Simon's long lost biological child

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 (you are here!)

"Did you seriously search "how to be a good dad"?" Johnny asked with an arched eyebrow, looking at the computer.

"Better late than nothing."

"Si, honey, I think that's more of an instinct thingy."

"My only instincts are to kill and to protect." Simon groaned, head back in annoyance. "I am really trying, Johnny."

"I know." He felt the other man's hands on his shoulders massaging him. "It's been a few weeks now. We could... have a family lunch? Could cook something, and they often eat alone in their room."

"You're an angel. You know that?"

Simon genuinely tried to be a good father. It was just... hard. Too hard sometimes. He drove (Y/N) to their therapy sessions twice a week, waited for them, tried to remember things they liked to which they would reply "I am not five anymore dad!". Well, at least they recognised him as their father. Which was good, he guessed.

Johnny had always been a good cook, that’s what he had found out after starting to live with the Scottish man. He always had cookbooks everywhere, freshly and neatly aligned by categories. Ever since he had been lightly discharged from the army, Johnny has been trying out all kinds of cooking, even once cooking something with dry insects. Simon still remembered trying to smile and to tell his beloved he was liking it.

Simon dressed up the table nicely. He wanted to make sure that (Y/N) felt included, welcomed… loved. He did feel like an asshole for not trying to step up earlier. It would have avoided all this mess. It would have surely prevented Elsie's death. It would have prevented his child from being turned into a mindless killer who worshiped Vladimir Makarov like a saint.

They came out the bedroom, footsteps light but Simon could hear them coming down the stairs. When he looked up, he found his child staring back at him with a frown.

“What's the occasion?”

“We thought we could have a family dinner tonight. You, me, Soap.” He jerked with his head toward the kitchen. Simon usually used his partner's callsign as a pet name.

“I'm not hungry.”

“You better be. He spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen trying to find something that will please you.” There he went with his aggressive and harsh tone. He tried to calm and ground himself. “Listen- I just- Johnny just wanted to spend some time with you.”

“So we can pretend everything is okay? That we are a perfect little family?” (Y/N) replied, mimicking his aggressive tone.

“Yes. Just for once. Please.” Simon begged as he moved and awkwardly clasped their shoulder. He squeezed it lightly.

“Fine.”

The evening went on quietly. Simon put on some light music, trying to make the atmosphere less tense. He had cleaned up a little, trying to look good. His eyes wandered to his child who took a few bites off the food Johnny had prepared.

“It's good?” Johnny asked the kid.

“Yeah.”

They often spoke few words when they were around the couple. Simon felt bad, he wanted to include them into the family. So he tried to make conversation.

“Doctor Fonda said you were making a lot of efforts. That's nice. I am proud of you.”

“Proud of what? Of me “seeing things your way”?” They spoke aggressively.

“No- I meant-”

“Meant what?” They glared at him across the table. And the man felt a white hot rage rising in his body. Couldn’t they see he was trying?! Trying to be a better father?!

“Simon, calm down.” Johnny put his hand on his partner's under the table.

“I'm calm.”

“Speak to yourself, old man. Sounds like you have seen a ghost or something.” They grinned, continuing to fuel his rage. “What? Do I look like mom? How did you feel when she died after you left her to rot all alone?”

“I didn't leave her! You're making me sound bad.” Simon growled, slowly standing up. And his kid stood too.

“Because you're trying to play the hero, again, when in reality you're just a freaking loser! She died because of you!”

“And you should have died with her! That will save me a bunch of problems!” Simon roared back. “I didn't want you in the first fucking place! I wish she had aborted you like I begged her in the first place.”

Then, silence. Complete silence. (Y/N) stomped back to their room, slamming the door. The dinner was cold. Simon sighed and put a hand through his hair. He had fucked up. Again. He had said things he didn't mean to say. Or perhaps… and it was the worst, he meant them.

Turning to Johnny, he tried to apologise. But the other man just groaned something under his breath, clearly annoyed at him.

“The dishes need to be done.” Johnny spoke with an emotionless voice as he grabbed the half empty plate.

Simon sat back into his chair. He wasn't a good father. But he was a good destroyer.

[keruimi]

The Love I Strived For

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

Warning: Comfort, slight Angst

Note: No words, too proud of this. My haikyuu fan side is kicking again so I decided to look back at the character that snatched my heart. I Hope you all love this the way I did. 🤍

_____________________________

"If she just knows how lucky she is to be close with Sakusa-san"

"To be like her..."

"Can we blame him, she is talented like him."

"She is so lucky..."

"Can I just be her?"

Those were the whispers I always hear the times I walk down the hallways, no matter where I am.

Sakusa's friend

The Woman who was his only exception.

Those words fill my heart with bitterness.

Because of the word 'friend'

They were right, I am talented like him. I am the best setter in the country. I am beautiful. My grades are still stable.

But our relationship will always still be in the so-called friendship.

Love is not his first priority. He could careless about it.

But I started to love him. A great Ace with a humble personality.

He should ask himself why I can't stop loving him.

Love that bloomed when we first met in the youth center for aspiring volleyball players.

That was the start of our story, of our friendship.

But never our love story.

Because no matter how perfect I am, no matter how much we are perfect in the eyes of others, I knew that feeling of acknowledgement would only stay as friends.

I could never ask for more no matter how much I wanted to.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

He was perfect. He has everything I wanted in a partner who I can spend my life with.

He has looks, he is a great player, he is a hard worker, and no matter how great a player he is, he was never prideful about it.

I love everything about him.

But our moments are always like acquaintances. I could never pass that line no matter how many years it has already been.

"I want you to love me. And I'll prove why I'm worth it"

That was the promise I declared wholeheartedly in our elementary days.

But he still feels so distant to me.

He acknowledged me, my love and talent. But never love anything I offered to him.

How am I lucky?

When my efforts seem to go to waste.

How can he love me?

"Senpai" a first year member of our team called out for me when she started to notice I was zoning out that made me look at the match in front of me.

A match where he lost the chance of being a consecutive champion.

I felt tears build up from my eyes when I saw the school's male volleyball team lose the rights to fight for the spot in the championship.

I hate it.

"Senpai... Let's greet them"

She tugged my sleeves like she is urging me to walk to greet the boys and I let my feet follow them.

And standing in front of him feels oddly cold.

So close but feels so far.

Maybe because of the bitterness I felt for him. But I can't blame him especially when it never occurs to him for loving anyone at all.

Right now I don't have the right words to say to him.

"I'll bring the victory to you"

Until those words left my lips.

That is a promise.

I love how his eyes gaze on my own before he nods in acknowledgement and proceeds to go to the locker room to wash up.

I silently yearn the moment he would finally love my efforts. The time where he would realize I am really serious about pursuing him. The moment he will feel proud of me.

I want to see the time where he would smile at me.

Because I just didn't wish for it. I worked for it.

I put sweat and tears to practice. To be a better player, match to him.

I work hard just to be seen. And I would never let go of this chance now that I am in the National Stage.

I'll bring the trophy to him.

I can hear the cheers in the stadium the moment I arrive at the end of the second set with us being in the losing end.

Because my body suddenly shut down from the quarterfinals we won yesterday.

Now that we are in the semifinals, I would not let the same bad luck be the reason why Itachiyama lost.

I am the female volleyball team's setter, the mastermind of every play. I don't want to lose therefore I can't leave.

26-25

The other team won the first set and on the lead on the second set.

The pressure was intense.

Especially when the coach immediately entered me in the game as I stood at the back.

This is my last chance...

I can't give up.

I'm not like his other fans who just wish and dream. I worked hard for it until I was deserving of it.

At this time, I want to be known by the world.

That I am the woman he should be proud of.

Those thoughts made me snatch the second set we almost lost.

Because I promise...

And I didn't realize that the match had finally ended, giving us the ticket to fight for the championship.

The time has finally come...

This is the chance I needed...

"I'm so close. So close"

Yet the night before the final day, my fever spiked up that I can barely breathe.

That's the day where I need to decide whether to play or put my health first.

But it was my dream. Not only for him but for myself too.

That's why my fever was left untold to my team members. Was kept as a secret to the coach.

Because I need to be in the court. At this moment, I need to be there.

That's why no matter how warm it was, no matter how dizzy I got, I kept going without looking back.

Because I finally decided that I will clutch the gold medal.

For our school, for our team, for our hardwork, and for him.

Even if I badly want to end it. I need to keep holding on to it.

Keep surviving.

Until we finally manage to take the last set we need to win.

That was the only time I got to breathe.

I felt my team embrace as we all fell to the ground in happiness.

Tears spill in my eyes as I finally got to laugh genuinely.

I did it

We did it!

Until the numb feeling of my body reminded me of the thing I chose to ignore.

After a few moments of celebrating, we handshake with the other team and while heading to the bleachers to take our supporters.

I felt the captain's hand on my back.

"Thank you because you keep going" she whispered as a small smile lifted from my lips.

"I have no regrets"

We bowed and thanked our supporters as I heard their cheers.

We didn't disappoint our school.

I looked up and saw the male volleyball team looking at us.

While his gaze was focused on me. I felt tears build up from my eyes as I showed a smile.

I was so happy, so happy I did it.

My happiness was immeasurable when I saw how his eyes seemed to rise a little that made my tears fall from my eyes.

Did I do it?

Did I finally make him smile.

My happiness was cut off short when my vision turned black. My own body is finally giving up on me.

It finally reaches its limit.

I started to wake up when I felt the cold towel on my forehead.

And his presence was the one that greeted me.

My eyes looked around and I saw I was in my hotel room and he was the one beside me.

"I'm sick Sakusa..."

I managed to stutter out before I felt the tiredness in my body.

"I know" he stated before he poured me a glass of water and set it on the side table.

He took a hold of my hand before he made me sit up. "You should drink"

He told me as I held the towel in my forehead and took the glass of water he was offering to me.

I drink all of it before setting it on the side table.

"Why are you the one with me?" I asked him before I removed the towel first so I could tie my hair up.

"Should I leave?"

He asked that it made me stare at him and saw he was wearing his mask as usual that made me sigh.

"It's just unusual for a person like you" I mumble as he took the comb before I managed to reach it.

"Let me"

I froze as I felt him touch my hair.

"Your actions are making me have second thoughts if you are really the Sakusa I know"

"Kiyo" I heard him mutter that made my breath hitched from his words.

"This is the only thing I can do" he started as I cherish this moment he was combing my hair for me.

"For a woman who almost risks her life just to not disappoint me" My heart warmed from his words as I looked over him through the mirror.

And I saw how my eyes turned glossy at that moment.

"You did a very dangerous thing there that your fever spikes up to 40°C" he continued before he put my hair in a ponytail.

"Never do that again"

I smiled at his words as I just decided to lean on the headboard so I can have more time to talk to him properly.

"I told you didn't I?" I finally spoke up the moment he took a seat on the end of the bed near me.

"I want to be worthy of a man like you. I want to bring the gold to you" his eyes found mine as I lift a small smile.

"Did I manage that? Those were the questions that first popped into my mind the moment we finally won" I breathlessly mutter as I played with my hands but not breaking off the eye contact from him.

"But only Sakusa Kiyoomi can answer that"

I felt how his eyes gloss a little that made me take a hold of his hand.

"Did I finally become worthy of your love?"

"The world made me feel average no matter how great I was" he managed to utter as I felt his hand tighten his hold on mine.

"Only you made me feel special"

"So Thank you"

"I really love you Kiyo" I stated clearly as I saw how thankful he was from how he gazed at our hands holding each other's palm.

"You made me start to treasure someone like you, Y/n"

And I can finally say without any hesitation.

That the first chapter of our love story officially began.

At the End of Spring Interhigh

[leerevoid]

A request from the ts discord!

The LI's with an MC who usually dresses really modestly dressing slightly scandalous for a date. Like, their usual outfit inudes long sleeves+pants, baggy clothing, layers, etc and the date outfit is tighter, exposes some torso when they move Juuuuust right, maybe has a chest window and lacy bits or something else scandalous

Thank you so much for your request, anon ! It was very sweet and I'm super sorry for the time it took me to answer it but !! here goes !!

The Love Interests when MC dress slightly scandalous, while they usually dress modestly -

Ais - Ais would be the type to tease MC as soon as he realizes they put some effort into it. He would make jokes, getting on MC's nerves slightly : “Someone is looking very nice today, Why is that, I wonder…?” But in the end, he would be very touched by MC's efforts to impress him for a date. If MC ends up being insecure with their choice of clothing, he would reassure them instantly, offering to hold their hand and kissing their knuckles despite the bandages, telling MC that in the end, they are beautiful to him no matter what, and he doesn't need these artifices to see how wonderful they are. 

“Your true colors are everything to me.”

Kuras - Kuras would definitely be excessively flustered and surprised MC decided to put in some effort to impress him. He would double check everything during the date, making sure MC is alright, wanting to step up his own game to make it a worthwhile experience for MC. He would be completely at loss for words, but MC would know just with his gaze how much Kuras loves and reveres them, his eyes completely on MC at all times, savoring the moment with them and the sight of their beauty. 

“You are breathtaking, tonight. I hope you can shine some of your light on me, one day.”

Leander - Leander would blush so bad. He would act all gentlemanly and proper, but on the inside, he would be dying to hold MC in his arms, and he would ask them just that. Thanks to his magic, MC would have absolutely no issue to reciprocate the contact. He would be so proud to be MC's significant other, looking at them with pure adoration as they chuckled at one of his stupid jokes. Leander would never leave MC's side during their date, getting extra cuddly and craving their contact.

“I just want to feel the real you, Love. Now won't you hold me some more ?”

Mhin - Mhin would be quiet, at first. They wouldn't understand why, out of all the people MC knew, they would dress up for them. Mhin would be so used to MC's standard fits that they would probably gasp a little seeing them, but would probably makes it pass as a yawn. This new outfit definitely makes Mhin see MC in a new light, the outfit they picked hugging their forms just right while not being too revealing, leaving some space to imagination. They would probably caress Mc's cheek at the end of the date, finally admitting how wonderful MC looked. 

“I do have to say… you didn't really need to go all out like this.. but it does suit you. It suits you so well.”

Vere - Vere would be proud of MC for finally rivalizing with him. He would show MC off to everyone, yet still holds MC’s waist possessively with one hand. They are his. MC feels a little like an expensive bag spurn around, but the excited swish of Vere’s tail is enough to reassure them and make them realize that he truly appreciate the effort MC put into this date. If MC let him, Vere would add his own little touch to it, giving MC an accessory or a shawl he particularly likes (and marking MC as their prey, and no one else’s). 

“Well, well, well… I have to admit that dressed like this, you could give me some serious competition in the Amaryllis District. But with that… Yes, you’re perfect like this. Now, they know who you belong to.”

[klerothesnowman]

"Bad Representation" Still Represents Something

This one's very quick, almost too quick to the nuance the topic deserves, but I got this energy while writing a thing about Dragon Age and I want to say it anyway. It's also pretty outdated discourse. It's also about amputee representation, and I am not an amputee so I'm not really the voice who should be heard about this.

A few years ago Wizards of the Coast reprinted the Curse of Strahd book with a handful of changes. Some of these changes are absolutely for the better, like making the people based on the Romani not literally have the ability to curse you with their evil eye or not referring them to a literal racial slur. But one change that was a little bit controversial to me was to remove "Harmful language" from one character in particular.

Ezmerelda d'Avenir (a later book decided that she prefers to be called Ez, so that's what I'll call her from here on) is one of the characters that can act as an ally to the players in the book. In the original copy of the book her "Secret" was that her right leg is a prosthetic from the knee down, and that she was putting effort into making sure it remained hidden. Now, the prosthetic is shown openly, it's not a secret and it's not hidden.

The idea is that Ez hiding away her prosthetic was ableist, it implied that having a prosthetic leg was something to be ashamed of. A disabled youtuber refuted that point, and argued that Ez hiding the prosthetic doesn't mean she's ashamed or that it's ableist. But I've got a different take.

Ez can be ashamed of her prosthetic. She lost it in a hunt, it's a symbol of failure. She can feel that she lost "a part of herself". She can feel that it's a weakness. What should have been errata'd in was further clarity that she's wrong. It can be a flaw in her character, a representation of a trauma, a symbol of a perfectionist attitude that is toxic to her, it can be so many other things.

Because people who reacted that way to losing a limb exist, these are people in the middle of their path of self acceptance, who have internalized some shitty things about themselves. Representation can be more than showing a positive image of something, it can also be showing the negative struggles someone is going through and reach out and say "Hey. People understand what you're going through. Here's a better way"

I understand that having positive, out and proud representations is important to normalizing things and helping people feel accepted, but I feel like literally erasing people struggling and aren't proud is like slamming people with a double decker combo of shame. Like "You're ashamed of this massive change you've gone through? You should be ashamed of yourself for that."

As an addendum point, when I voiced this in discussion at the time someone said that "That's not a level of nuance you're afforded when you only have one disabled character" which is like... fair. I guess? But at that point you should probably be having more disabled characters rather than trying to have a singular character to be your "Perfect Disability Rep", because these things are never that simple. People are complicated, everyone reacts to things differently, and that's okay.

[bow-of-aros]

Bring Him Back

What if Jacobi had died instead of Maxwell? How would SI-5's resident computer genius handle the loss of her best friend? By putting Kepler in a Saw trap, apparently.

Hey folks!! I've been chipping away at this one for a while and I'm pretty proud of it. It's inspired by that one tumblr post saying that Maxwell would've put Kepler in a saw trap if she'd been the one who survived and I took that and ran with it. It ended a little softer than I expected but I'm not complaining. Hope that y'all enjoy!! <33

The door slams shut behind Kepler with an air of aggressiveness that is… unusual for the Hephaestus. Kepler’s first instinct is to brush it off, chalk it up to the culmination of the ship’s ragged edges and the AI that has made no effort to hide her disdain for him.

But something tugs at him, and Kepler’s never been one to question his gut instinct.

Not until recently, at least.

“Hera?” He keeps his tone neutral. Curious. He prides himself on maintaining careful control of his emotions, of exuding a calm yet powerful air to those around him. A man who is always in charge.

Or, a man who was always in charge seems more appropriate now.

The speakers crackle to life, “Sorry, Hera’s not here at the moment. I asked her to give us some privacy for our little chat.”

Ah. “Doctor Maxwell.”

“Ding ding ding! We have a winner!”

Her voice was dry, tired. And still she managed to sound so much like Jacobi. Kepler supposes that that’s what happens when you really only interact with two other people. He’d always tried to maintain his distance, but Jacobi and Maxwell had picked up mannerisms from each other until you could barely tell where one ended and the other began.

Of course, Kepler had always been able to tell, but that was no longer relevant.

He looks around, taking in the room. Nothing seems amiss but, knowing Maxwell, he wouldn’t be able to tell she was killing him until he was already dead.

It wasn’t the sort of thing he was used to worrying about.

“You didn’t have to go through all this just to have a conversation with me,” Kepler’s eyes flick up to the lone security camera in the corner of the room. “What would you like to talk about?”

A short, humourless laugh echoes throughout the room. “That’s such a good question. What on Earth could I want to talk about with you?”

Kepler can picture the wry twist of her mouth, the way she taps her finger mockingly against her chin.

“Well, sir,” Maxwell bites out the word, all respect that might have been there replaced by a venomous derision, “I was thinking that we could talk about Daniel. You know, my best friend? Your good right hand? The man who died because he trusted you? Because we trusted you? This ringing any bells?”

The name hits him like a punch to the gut, but he refuses to flinch. He can’t show weakness. Especially not now, not while he can feel Maxwell scrutinizing him like a bug under a magnifying glass, trying to find the perfect angle between the sun and his body to burn him to ash. Instead, he composes himself by letting out a long, steady breath.

“Jacobi knew what he was getting into, he—”

“No, he didn’t.” On any other occasion, Kepler wouldn’t allow this kind of insubordination, but the longer he stays in here the more lightheaded he becomes.

And he has a sneaking suspicion that his oxygen supply currently rests in Maxwell’s hands.

Kepler focuses on limiting his air intake as Maxwell continues, “He didn’t know what he was getting into because you didn’t tell him. And now he’s dead.”

“What would you like me to do about that, Doctor?” Kepler gestures at the room around him, “I’m stuck in here and, even if I wasn’t, it’s not like I have the power to bring him back.”

That laugh again. Kepler can’t remember the last time he heard her genuinely laugh, but he can guarantee that Jacobi had been the cause of it. They had their own language, their own convoluted sense of humour that Kepler had always considered himself above.

What he wouldn’t give to hear them laughing together again.

There was no use dwelling on it. The past was done, and holding onto it would only serve to get in the way of the bigger picture. There was only moving forward.

“You know, back on Earth, if I heard you say that you didn’t have the power to do something I would’ve laughed in your face. And then I’d have probably shot you because obviously something had taken the place of my commanding officer. You were invincible, so we were invincible by extension.”

She sighs, the speaker crackles, Kepler tries to breathe.

“Turns out that we’re not invincible. Daniel’s dead because of you and I feel like I owe him one last science experiment, for old times' sake.”

Something clanks in the air vents and a rush of oxygen pours in. The abrupt shift sends Kepler into a coughing fit and he can barely hear what Maxwell says next:

“We’re going to see if Daniel’s death triggers your own. A cause-and-effect of sorts. My working research question is ‘Does Warren Kepler deserve to breathe while Daniel Jacobi doesn’t, or are we going to prove once and for all that he’s not as invincible as he seems?’” A panel in the wall opens, “It’s a bit wordy, but I feel like it gets the point across.”

Kepler ignores the tendril of fear that curls within him, pushing it deep down and as out of sight as possible.

There’s a box sitting in the opening, a simple wire cutter resting next to it. Wires poke out and twist around each other, all connecting to a panel. There’s no timer, though, just a simple engraving.

Delta. Alpha. November. India. Echo. Lima.

“Look familiar?” Maxwell’s voice startles Kepler, a truly impressive feat. “That’s the bomb—”

“The bomb I had Jacobi dismantle on our first field mission together. Yes, I remember.” The words escape him without his consent, floating amidst the onslaught of memories that threatened to crash into him.

“Good.” An alarm blares, “You can leave when you diffuse it.”

Kepler’s eyes are glued to the bomb, “Maxwell, you know I can’t—”

“Meanwhile,” She cuts him off sharply, “Let’s talk about Daniel. What do you remember about him?”

And what could he say? Maxwell and Jacobi may have been close, but Kepler and Jacobi had been Goddard’s best team for years before she’d joined and made them unstoppable. They’d shared shitty motel rooms and dined in some of the world’s finest restauraunts. Kepler had been there for Jacobi’s first intentional kill and he hadn’t even flinched, just turning to Kepler for approval when it was done.

Jacobi somehow knew him better than anyone else, and it wasn’t for lack of trying on Kepler’s part.

“He was an invaluable member of our team—AH!”

A bolt of electricity fires through him, singeing his shoulder and sending the acrid tang of burnt flesh wafting through the air.

Kepler looks around for what shocked him and comes up empty.

“Now, Colonel, let’s try that again,” Maxwell’s voice sounded distantly pleased, like she’d been hoping that Kepler would give the wrong answer, “But this time, try to respond how you think a human being might. I’d say there’s no rush, but, well, there is a bomb in the room with you.”

He briefly considered calling Maxwell’s bluff. Kepler isn’t confident when it comes to his life resting in her hands, but she wouldn’t risk damaging Hera at the very least.

Probably.

There was a chance, however small, that if Kepler played this right, he could potentially win back enough of Maxwell’s favour that he wouldn’t be in imminent danger. It shouldn’t be too difficult to separate his emotions from his words, it’s what he’s done his entire life.

“Well,” He started slowly, “I remember that his favourite colour was orange. He told me that most people thought it was odd, but that he liked it because it reminded him that fire could be warm, comforting, and not just used in the name of destruction.”

A round of applause sounded through the speaker.

“Good job, Kepler. I could almost detect some real emotion in there, I’m impressed.” She didn’t sound impressed, but Kepler wasn’t going to mention that, “My turn. I remember that, after my first close-range kill, Jacobi stayed up all night with me because I couldn’t stop shaking. We didn’t know each other very well back then, but he didn’t leave me alone. He didn’t make me feel weak, either.”

A noise sounded from the bomb.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

“Maxwell.” Kepler eyed the bomb, taking it in, trying to remember what Jacobi had done to get them out of the room that he’d locked them in all those years ago.

“Oh fine, how about I make you a deal?” He had a feeling that he was not going to enjoy this, “I know how to disarm the bomb, obviously. So, for every genuine memory you can recount about Daniel, I’ll tell you the next step in the process.”

He was right. But there was something in Maxwell’s voice, a tinge of desperation that she couldn’t quite hide and that Kepler couldn’t quite place. “Fine. I think I’m already owed the first step, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Silence drones on for an uncomfortable length, even for Kepler. With every second, he’s made more and more aware of the very literal ticking time bomb he’s trapped on a space station with.

And he can’t help but think about how this situation wouldn’t be any trouble at all if Jacobi were here. Not only would Kepler not be in this situation, but Da—Jacobi had diffused this exact model before. He shouldn’t be in any danger.

But Jacobi isn’t here and Maxwell is, and Kepler feels the lack of balance keenly.

“There’s a bundle of wires adjacent to the engraving. Two white, a blue, and a green. Cut the green wire.”

He grabs the wire cutter from beside the bomb and doesn’t hesitate before cutting the green wire. There’s no room for doubt here, but an inkling of anxiety worms its way through.

But he doesn’t blow up, so that’s something.

Maxwell barely gives him the time to register this before she pushes him along, “I’d suggest that you start talking, sir. We’re on a time limit, after all.”

Alright, Kepler can play this game.

He sets his shoulders, trying to reclaim some sort of control over the situation. “Do you remember that mission last year in Budapest?”

“The one where Jacobi killed that politician and almost got us all fired?”

“Yes, the very same.” They both knew which mission he was talking about. And fired was certainly a generous term for what Cutter had threatened to do to them. “Did he ever tell you why he killed that man?”

There’s some static, an exhaled breath, “No. He didn’t.”

“He’d seen you in your suit since you refused to wear the dress Cutter had sent for you.” Kepler could see it. It had certainly suited Maxwell better than any dress, and her hair had been pulled back into what some might consider an acceptable fashion. One could have called her beautiful. Striking is the word Kepler considered most apt. “He made some joke about getting you into his bedroom and teaching you how a ‘real woman’ should behave. I watched Jacobi take aim and fire within less than a second. A perfect shot.”

“And you didn’t stop him.”

“I didn’t.”

A pause. “Why not?”

Because Kepler had seen red, and the moment that man had laid eyes on his team was the moment he deserved to die. Because if Jacobi hadn’t taken that shot, Kepler very well might have.

“I don’t think I could have even if I’d wanted to. When Jacobi makes a decision, it’s nearly impossible to dissuade him unless he’s faced with a direct order. I learned a long time ago to choose my battles carefully, and that’s not one I wanted to fight.”

Maxwell hums like she’s considering it. Like they both aren’t playing different versions of the same game, looking for any crack in the other’s defenses to exploit.

“There’s only one orange wire. Cut it.”

He does, and remains intact.

“Maxwell—” No, that’s not right, “Alana.”

Kepler, on principle, doesn’t use first names. The SI-5 are a team, one that relies on efficiency, ruthlessness, and the ability to keep working towards their goal even if someone takes a bullet to the brain. Emotional attachments are not conducive to their work and Kepler has made sure to keep a very clear, professional��distance.

“Sir?” Her guard slips, just a bit, but enough to hint that maybe Kepler hasn’t fully lost control of the only other person on this station worthy of a sliver of his trust.

What he said next would determine not only his chances of survival, but also whether or not he could complete his mission.

Whether or not Jacobi’s death had been in vain.

“Jacobi’s death was— He didn’t—” Kepler paused, collecting his thoughts, “I… miscalculated.”

Colonel Warren Kepler does not make mistakes. What’s more, Colonel Warren Kepler certainly does not admit to making mistakes. This position that he has clawed his way into requires nothing less than perfection from both him and his subordinates.

Colonel Warren Kepler does, in fact, take risks. Sometimes a gamble is the difference between success and failure.

When Maxwell didn’t respond, Kepler took that as his cue to keep going. “I made a call that I thought was best, and Jacobi died because of it. That is an indisputable fact, and something that I will have to carry for the rest of my life.” Too personal, switch tact, “It has cost us dearly, and I know that you cared very much for Jacobi—”

“You did too.” Maxwell’s voice was soft, but her words cut through him nonetheless.

Kepler ensured that his tone was perfectly steady, even a little threatening, as he replied, “Excuse me?”

“You cared about him too.” With every word, Maxwell’s voice grew stronger, “He wasn’t just my best friend, he was your second-in-command. You two knew each other for years before you hired me.”

“Doctor—” Kepler tried to warn her off, but was interrupted by her incredulous laugh, piercing through the static.

“I mean, the number of times you could’ve fired him, even killed him, for some mistake or another. And all those times you complained about insubordination without ever doing anything about it. Even the way he talked about you!”

His breath caught in his throat, and, against his better intentions, he waited to hear what Maxwell would say next.

And, of course, she didn't disappoint.

Kepler’s team never did.

Her voice rang out like a gong, sure and with a sense of finality appropriate for the occasion, “I thought he was delusional. He was in love with you!”

There it was. Kepler had always known. Relied on it in the way you relied on the sun rising in the morning, or the way you relied on the tides rising and falling in accordance with the moon.

Actually, that wasn’t quite right.

It was more the way you relied on a loaded gun to fire when you pulled the trigger or a bomb to explode when you lit the fuse. A prized weapon that remains at your side, willing and able to tear through anything in its path with brutal efficiency the moment you give the word.

Kepler’s finger twitches in the empty air, searching for a bullet that has long since been fired and is now embedded within the walls of the Hephaestus. No longer his to wield.

“—ler? Kepler are you even listening to me?” The question was an unwelcome reminder of the reality of his situation, plunging him back into a world where Jacobi was dead, and it seemed that Kepler would be following him sooner than he’d prefer.

His eyes flick back up to the camera, keenly aware of the eyes watching him, cataloguing his every breath.

“Yes, Maxwell,” He sighs, “What would you have me do? Even if he did love me, he’s gone now, and love never saved anyone.”

The temperature in the room dropped. “You’d better hope that’s not true, Colonel. Because love might be the only thing that gets you out of here alive.”

A chill crept up Kepler’s spine and he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was of Maxwell’s doing, or entirely his own.

“Doctor, I would much appreciate it if you would just tell me what you want me to do instead of dancing around while I am trapped in a room with an active bomb.”

He heard a scoff and, “That’s rich coming from you.”

Fair enough.

“But fine, you want to know what I want from you? It’s simple, really, even you could pull this off.” She paused, took a breath, “I want you to say that you cared about Daniel Jacobi.”

Oh. “Maxwell, I—”

“I’m not finished.” And, miraculously, the words vanished from the tip of Kepler’s tongue, “I don’t just want you to say that you cared about him. I want you to mean it. And not just as a part of the team, but as a person. I want you to mean it so much that you manage to convince me that you’re even the slightest bit upset about the fact that you sent him to his death.”

This… certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

“Maxwell, I won’t—”

“You will, or I’m going to let that bomb go off. Cosmic justice and all that. I feel like it would make Daniel proud.”

Kepler eyed the bomb apprehensively. Alana Maxwell didn’t bluff, she made promises and she kept them.

All of a sudden, it hit him: Kepler didn’t have anyone on his side. He was alone in a room on a space station 7.8 light years away from Earth. There was no good right hand to rely on; the only remnant of him was the bomb just a few feet away, mocking him. There was no computer genius in his ear, watching his back and making sure they all got out of there alive.

When he lost Jacobi, he lost them both, leaving Kepler to pick through the wreckage in an attempt to salvage what remained of his team.

This might be his best shot. “Alright, Doctor. You win. I cared about Jacobi.”

The words felt like razor blades tearing through his throat, which is likely why Maxwell’s response was so horrible.

“No. I don’t believe you, say it again.”

But he kept his composure. “I cared about Jacobi.”

“Again.”

And he didn’t let anything slip. “I cared about Daniel Jacobi.”

“Interesting. Again.”

Or, at least, he tried not to let anything slip. “I cared about Daniel. Isn’t that what you want to hear? I cared about him.”

“Ooh, there was certainly something there. Maybe even something believable. Again.”

Kepler took a deep breath.

And then he snapped, throwing the wire cutters in his hands with deadly accuracy. It shattered the camera into a million glittering pieces, blinding Maxwell.

“I loved him.” He heard Maxwell suck in a sharp breath, but the dam inside of Kepler had broken and there was no stopping the flood, “I loved him, and then I killed him. There should’ve been no room for love on this team. Love slows you down, it makes you look over your shoulder. Love gets you killed.”

He looked at his hands, the hands that had curled around a glass of whiskey, clinking it against another. The hands that had clapped Jacobi on the back for a job well done too many times to count. The hands that were drenched in so much blood, and yet Jacobi had been willing to take them in his own.

The hands that now felt so empty. “I couldn’t afford that. One shred of weakness and Cutter would’ve killed Jacobi before either of us could blink, so I never told him, and I let him love me as long as it meant he would still get the job done. His love meant loyalty, mine meant a slow and gruesome death.” A short laugh escaped him, sharp as a dagger through the heart, “If you could even call it love.”

“We’re monsters, Maxwell,” Kepler looked up at the shattered camera, “What we call love is more like some twisted form of need. Of loyalty and obsession and dependency that warps and binds us together. We just call it love so that we can trick ourselves into feeling a little more human.”

All the rage that had swirled inside him dissipated, leaving him empty once more. “But I did love him, in the only way that I knew how, and then I ordered him to his death. I wanted all of us to make it out of this assignment alive and intact, but now we’re more broken than ever. And that’s something I will carry with me until my dying day, and perhaps a little longer.”

Silence rang. Kepler took the opportunity to scrub a hand over his face, to straighten out his clothes in order to look even mildly presentable if this was how he was going to die.

Then the door slid open.

“I loved him too.” Alana stood in the hall, slightly hunched over and eyes downcast, “You too, actually. We were supposed to be a family.”

And against all his training, all his better instincts, something inside of Kepler’s impenetrable exterior softened.

“We were.” He opened his arms just slightly, an invitation that was eagerly accepted as Maxwell sank into him. They held on tight, away from prying eyes and clinging to the only tangible evidence of what they used to have.

After a moment, they separated. Kepler pretended not to see the way Maxwell tried to subtly wipe at her eyes, the same way she pretended not to notice the way he cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m going to go spend some time in my quarters, and I think you should too. We still have lots of work to do, and I want you energized and ready come morning.”

The smile she sent him was tentative, a bridge in the process of being rebuilt, “Yes, sir. I’ll see you then.”

They went their separate ways and Kepler made sure that his strides were sure and his head was held high until he got to his assigned room. The moment the door closed behind him, he sank to the floor, rubbing a thumb over the badge that he kept in his pocket at all times.

It was burnt and slightly bloodied, but you could still read the D. Jacobi that had been printed on it for this mission.

And finally, for the first time since they lost Special Officer Daniel Jacobi, ballistics expert and classified sarcastic ray of sunshine, Kepler let himself mourn.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hola amor!

A fluffy request about the reader (idk what nationality, I'll let you choose) tryna learn spanish for Gavi, but what he didn't know was you're starting to master it. So maybe one day you surprised him by suddenly speaking fluently in Spanish. Hehe I got inspired by this girl I saw on tiktok, the boy's reaction was priceless! Haha and I was also learning Spanish too. Gracias!

Doing this with 🇵🇹 nationality😌 THANKS FOR THE REQUEST, LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED IT AND SORRY FOR THE LATENESS😭 I've been so busy lately😭

Also, fic celebration for the 700 followers... I still can't believe it. Thank you🥹🫶🏼

Una Experta -P.G

Summary: You surprise your boyfriend by showing your skills in Spanish

"Come on, mi amor. It's easy" Your boyfriend of a year and half said softly

"I know it is, I just can't get a hold of it sometimes, Pabs!" You exclaimed a bit frustrated whenever your tongue didn't connected with your mind whenever you had to speak Spanish and yelled when you burned your hand with the heating pan "Não foda! Essa merda é quente. Vou ficar com uma chaga tremenda e bem na palma da mão!" (Fuck! That shit is hot. I'm going to have a tremendous sore right on the palm of my hand!)

"Amor, be careful!" Pablo said inmediately grabbing your burned hand and the other on your waist guiding you towards the sink and bringing your hand under the cold water as you hissed from the temperature change "Lo siento"

"It's fine" You hissed when his fingers carressed your burned palm "Amor"

"Sorry, mi vida" He kissed your cheek as you let out a few tears of both, pain and frustration. He let you quickly to grab the ice pack and came back putting it in your hand "Let's go to the bedroom, amorcito" He kissed your cheek again and dried your tears with his hand, guiding the two of you upstairs.

He took off his shirt and got to the bathroom to grab the medical kit, you sat on his side of the bed and watched him come back to you ready to take care of your burn.

After he was done, he left a kiss on it and left a kiss on your lips as well, before getting you inside the covers, he putted away the things he used and turned the TV on, getting under the covers with you in his arms.

"Amor" He said softly after a while "I love the effort you are doing in learning my language but don't stress too much because of it, okay?" He said against your hair "I love you too much and I don't want you sad or mad about it. You will eventually do it at perfection, I know it. Spanish isn't easy and we just gotta keep trying" You smiled softly. "Like, I barely know three words in Portuguese and still I am trying" You laughed

He was so cute and he was-is, so yours.

But the thing on this is... You already knew Spanish and were trying to perfection it, Pablo though doesn't know that, how did you communicated with someone before him? Yes, with broken Spanish and lots of English.

But it doesn't help the fact that you confuse Spanish words with your native words, since some of them sounded and were the same. It was a bit hard processing it and your mind sometimes shortcircuited because of it.

"I know, mi amor" You said kissing his naked chest "I know, I just-" You sigh "Wanna be able to communicate with you in your native languague. I know how hard is English for you sometimes" He smiles softly

"I can handle that" You giggled "However, Portuguese is really hard and I'm still trying, mi linda"

"I know you do and I'm proud of you for it" You smile "Além disso, você fala muito fofo em português, seu sotaque sevilhano soa muito pesado com isso. Eu amo isso" (Besides, your way too cute talking in Portuguese, your Sevillan accent sounds way too heavy with it. I love it)

"¿Ah? You said Love, right? You said love" He confirmed as you giggle "I hope you said you love me because I love you too" You smile nodding and gave him a kiss on his cheek when his phone dinged and he grabbed it showing you, proudly, his lockscreen.

A picture of the two of you appeared and you smiled hiding your face into his neck "Nos vemos lindos" (We look pretty)

"Of course we do" He buffed as you shook your head rolling your eyes secretly loving his confidence. "It seems like we've got some company in five days"

"Who?"

"Your suegros" He winked and you blushed

"They'll be staying?" You ask smiling as he nods

"Two days" You sigh softly

"Gotta tidy up the guest room tomorrow then"

"I'll help you, amorcito. Don't worry"

...

"¿Y Pablo?" (And Pablo?) Belén asked as you chatted with her meanwhile el señor Pablo, her husband, showered.

"Ha salido a hacer unas compras de último minuto. Mañana quisiera hacer su platillo familiar, que me has dado la receta pero no había podido ponerla en prueba" (He went out to do some grocery shopping of last minute. I wanna do your family dish tomorrow, you gave me the recipe but I couldn't put it on test) She laughed "Y bueno... Que mejor situación, que ustedes estén aquí" (And well... What better situation than you guys being here) She let out a little aw and you blushed

"Es bastante sencilla, nada de que preocuparse, ¿Eh?" (It's pretty simple, nothing you had to worry about) She smiled "Eres muy buena cocinera, de seguro te queda exquisito, pero si quieres te puedo ayudar" (You're a really good cooker, I'm sure it will be delicious, if you want I can help you out)

"No te molestes, ustedes son los invitados. Tendré que poner a Pablito que me ayude con la ensalada" (Don't worry about it, you are the guests. I will have to make Pablo help me out with the salad) You both laughed

"Que la va a incendiar, estoy segura" (He'll make it fire, I'm sure of it)

"No, que va. Ha mejorado bastante en sus skills de cocina. Esperemos que no me deje en ridículo luego de haberle defendido si se llega a cortar en lo más mínimo" (No, he won't. He has gotten a lot better in his cooking skills. Let's just hope he doesn't leave me ridiculous after defending him, if he gets to cut himself at least a little) Belén laughed as you smiled when you felt someone gasp.

You turn around and see Pablo with the bag of grocery in his hands

"You're speaking Spanish? Perfectly?"

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear your pretty voice speaking my languague fluently!" He exclaimed and almost let the bag fell to the floor if you hadn't grabbed it before. "¡AMOR!" He yelled with a smile on his face "Say it again!"

"¿El qué?" (The what?)

"¡Joder, hostias! ¡Lo estás haciendo!" (Fucking hell! You're doing it!) Belén and you were full on laughing

"Pablo, para" Belén asked (stop)

"I won't, mamá! She's speaking Spanish! That sounded so hot, you don't know how turned on that made me" He told you and you blushed rainbow colors. His mom was sat in front of you.

"¡Hey! Your mom's here!"

"She knows we do those stuffs, right mom?" Belén smiled shaking her head in disbelief "Mi amorcito hermoso, I'm truly happy for you!" He picked you up as you laughed hugging him by his shoulders "But... ¿Desde hace cuánto sabes Español? ¿Y por qué no me habías dicho?" (Since when you speak Spanish? And why you haven't told me that?)

"Surprise?" He smiled shaking his head

"Necesito urgentemente ponerme en clases de Portugués, no me puedo quedar atrás" (I need urgently to take Portuguese classes, I can't be left behind) You and Belén laughed.

"You will not, amor" He smiled and high fived you, intertwining your hands in the end

"Just like I will not let you down tomorrow with the salad, mi experta en español"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

[neewtmas]

hihihi im here with the request hehe thank you so so so so much again you’re so amazing i can’t believe it

lockwood x she/her reader with the prompts

"Prove it."

"How much of that did you hear?"

“It's a long story." "I got time, try me."

but if they don’t make sense just go with the flow you’re already so so so so so wonderful for doing all of this i’m not gonna be picky lol 🫂🫂🩷🩷

hellooooo!!! thank you so much for these great prompts and for your patience!

I have to admit I did struggle with an idea at first but I think I turned it around and now I'm actually really proud of this, so I hope you like it too :)))

Enjoy 1.5k of Lockwood goodness just for you <333

masterlist

When you woke up, the room was filled with the pale glow of the full moon shining outside the attic window. Usually, Lucy pulled the curtains close when she went to bed, so there shouldn’t have been a way for the moonlight to disturb your peaceful slumber. Your eyes were heavy as you felt around the other side of the mattress. It was cold, Lucy’s blanket still folded up from the morning before. You slowly sat up, looking over at the little digital alarm clock on Lucy’s bedside table.

11:30.

Due to a headache, you had gone to bed earlier tonight, leaving your three colleagues behind in the living room. The pounding in your head had subsided considerably after a few hours of sleep, but your throat felt dry like sandpaper. You reached over to the cup on your bedside table, only to find it equally dry. Oh well. With your house slippers on, cup in hand, you made your way down the stairs. You made an effort to be quiet, just in case anyone else was sleeping already.

The kitchen was dark, and you didn’t bother switching on the bright light which would have probably only hurt your eyes anyway. The faucet was right by the window, where the moon shone bright enough for you to see what you were doing. After two cups of water, you were ready to make your way back to your bed. As you carefully pulled the kitchen door closed behind you, your eyes fell on the thin strip of light that poured out of the living room onto the floorboards of the hallway.

On second thought, maybe the bed could wait and you could join Lucy for some late-night talks in the living room. You stepped closer to the door, subconsciously trying to move as quietly as possible. As you approached the door, you could hear Lockwood’s voice as well as Lucy’s. So they were both still awake. The door was slightly ajar, allowing you to peer into the room before opening it fully.

Lockwood and Lucy sat on the couch, Lucy with her back to you. George was nowhere to be seen, probably in bed already. Something about the way Lockwood and Lucy were turned towards each other made you stop in your tracks. The hand that had been ready to push open the door slowly fell to your side, as you watched with wide eyes as Lockwood took both of Lucy’s hands, smiling at her tenderly.

“Look, I’ve been trying to get this off my chest for such a long time. Ever since you started working here, really. You are so important to me.”

It felt like someone had placed a noose around your neck and pulled it tight. Were you about to watch Lockwood confess his love to Lucy?

Lockwood hesitated now. You watched Lucy squeeze his hands. “Go on”, she said encouragingly.

“More important than I could ever put into words. Everything about you is perfect to me.”

Suddenly you felt like throwing up. Your head was spinning as you stumbled backwards and blindly felt for the wall to steady you. The thought of them being able to hear you didn’t even cross your mind as you practically raced up the stairs.

⫘⫘A few minutes prior, in the living room⫘⫘

“No, stop! Try again.”

George was slouched in one of the chairs, biscuit in hand. “That was horrible, Lockwood. Where are the feelings? Where is the love? I’m not feeling the love!”

Lucy had to bite back a laugh as Lockwood grimaced. “It’s Lucy! You try confessing your undying love to Lucy, and we can talk again.”

She kicked his shin. “Hey! Don’t forget I’m trying to help you out here. Just imagine it’s Y/N. Shouldn’t be that hard, we know she’s all you think about.”

The tips of Lockwood’s ears went pink. “Alright, alright. Let’s try again. Lucy, don’t look at me like that or I’ll laugh.”

Lucy made an effort to keep a neutral expression. Lockwood went to grab both her hands and took a deep breath.

“Look, I’ve been trying to get this off my chest for such a long time. Ever since you started working here, really. You are so important to me.” A short pause. George nodded encouragingly and showed a thumbs up. Lucy squeezed Lockwood’s hands.

“Go on.”

“More important than I could ever put into words. Everything about you is perfect to me.”

Lockwood was about to continue when the sound of footsteps on the stairs sounded through the room. He immediately dropped Lucy’s hands. “Did you hear that?”

George got up, turning to the door. “Yes”, he said slowly. “Sounded like someone running up the stairs.” He and Lucy exchanged a worried look as Lockwood rushed to the door. “Shit! Do you think she heard?”

“Probably.”

“That was not the plan!” But Lockwood didn’t stay to explain what exactly the plan was, instead, he ran out into the hallway and up the stairs, taking three steps at once.

Lucy looked over to George. He just shrugged. “Maybe that was the kick in the ass he needed.”

Lockwood was sure that he had never run up a set of stairs that fast in his life. He was out of breath as he came to a halt in front of the door to the attic. His hands were sweaty as he knocked a few times, praying that you would open the door.

At the knock you sat up on the bed, frantically wiping away the tears from your cheeks. Who could that be? George? Maybe your running had woken him up and he was here to tell you off. You buried your head in your pillow. You didn’t want to talk to him. You wanted to wallow in self-pity and cry about the fact that the boy you liked, liked your best friend instead. But the knocks continued.

You wiped your cheeks again, just for good measure and hoped that the tears weren’t so obvious. You pulled open the door, ready to tell George that you were sorry but not in the mood for a scene, but the words died in your throat as you came face to face with Lockwood. You gasped, trying to close the door again. He moved so quickly that you barely registered it and held it open.

“Are you crying?”, he asked, and while you shook your head, the tears came back with a vengeance at the concern and tenderness in his voice. “No”, you sniffled, taking a few steps back. “Leave me alone, please.”

He ignored you. “What’s wrong? Were you downstairs?” You didn’t say anything, just wiped another stray tear. Lockwood sighed deeply. “How much of that did you hear?"

It felt like your stomach had tied itself into a thousand knots. “Listen, Lockwood, I’m happy for you and Lucy, but please, I need some time to myself right now.”

“Y/N –“ Lockwood ran his hand through his hair. “Listen to me. It’s not what you think.”

Suddenly, you could feel anger rising within you. What was he trying to do? Flirting with you for months, keeping your hopes up, only to then choose Lucy and tell you ‘it’s not what it looks like’.

“It’s not? It seemed awfully clear to me, Lockwood.”

You could tell he was hurt by your sharp tone.

“I swear it’s not. Please, Y/N, you have to believe me. It's a long story."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I got time, try me."

Lockwood buried his face in his hand. It was hard for you to see him like this. He seemed to be in great distress.

He stepped closer to you, and you allowed him to take your hands, even though you immediately had the picture of him doing the same to Lucy in your mind.

“This is going to sound so dumb, but I promise you it’s the truth. I’ve been thinking so long about how I could possibly tell you how I feel about you. And George had this idea – this stupid idea where I would confess to Lucy, but pretend it’s you. Like a practice run. That’s what you heard.”

You stared at him. “How could I possibly believe that?”, you finally asked, and his shoulders slumped down. “You always know exactly what to say, in every situation. How am I supposed to believe that you need to practice –“

“Because you make me so unbelievably nervous, Y/N. You should have heard the five attempts before that final one. It was pathetic. George could have come up with something better.”

You smiled weakly. “I’m not sure about this.”

Lockwood looked at you, desperation written all over his face. “I know a way of proving it to you if you let me”, he said, his right hand slipping up your arm to cup your cheek. “Please?”

Your head was spinning from his sudden closeness and the warmth of his hand. You closed your eyes. “Prove it”, you whispered and your heart skipped a beat as you felt the soft touch of his lips on yours.