Do You Have Any Ocs? Do You Write About Them?

i just watched howl's moving castle and im absolutely broken. howl and sophie just have my entire being, i just want to be there, in their world. I LOVE THEM <3

teamwork (makes the dream work...?)

genre: enemies to lovers I guess? I'm bad at these 😭

summary: one week, your usual work partner is absent, so instead you are seated next to a genius with attitude problems. it happens.

wc: ~500

A/N: if i can manage to be consistent for once, this will probably be a series because I haven't done one in a while. pls feel free to leave your reactions in the tags or comments! happy reading 🫶🏾

next

Sunlight filtered through the large classroom window. Usually, you'd be seated right by it, letting the rays warm your face in the air-conditioned room.

Not today. Your usual partner was out sick, so you were moved to the back of the classroom. Blocking out the sunshine was the silhouette of a boy you had only seen in the hallways once or twice. He had deep brown skin, with two neat cornrows cascading down either side of his neck and brushing his shoulders. You also made out an undercut, faded cleanly beneath the braids. There was a case meant for holding glasses sitting at the front of his desk, but no spectacles sitting on his prominent nose. 

The boy was bent over his worksheet already, arm covering the page.

"Hey," you said with a pleasant upturn in your voice. A full thirty seconds passed. He didn't answer, so you try again.

"Um, excuse me-"

"I heard you." 

The boy kept his eyes on his desk, brows knitted together with focus. He was making broad, sharp strokes with his pencil. His elbow moved for a moment, revealing not a sheet of math problems, but a piece of printer paper filled with intricate geometric designs. Precise lines come together to create the form of a caped figure. It has large, mechanical claws and a mask with sharp, wide eyes.

"That's a cool drawing," you commented. The boy's shoulders jumped to his ears as if he'd been caught before dropping back down. He finally looked up from the page and paused. Wide, brown eyes flickered across your face, trying to determine what to make of you.

"Thanks," was all that the boy said before returning to his sketching. It wasn't long before you interrupted him again.

"You not gonna finish your work?"

"I'm already done, that's why Ms. Jones put me back here and let me rock."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me," you muttered to yourself. 

You messed with the sleeve of your royal blue uniform blazer in silence, weighing your options. Ms. Jones wasn't going to let you turn in another incomplete assignment, and this kid couldn't even be assed to say 'hello'. A deep sigh escapes your lips.

"Can I get your name, at least?"

The boy set his pen down with a slam, and looked up at you as if he'd just been asked what color the sky was.

"Morales," he deadpanned, with a slight roll on the 'r'. 

"Which Morales?"

"Miles."

You hummed in slight recognition, having heard the name somewhere before, murmured next to you in passing.

"You Dominican?"

"Puerto Rican."

"Oh, cool."

"M-hm." 

He picked up his pen again and began to twirl it between his pointer and middle finger, but held your gaze. You looked like you were finally about to get to the actual question.

"Well, Morales," you began with a smile.

Here it comes.

"Since you're done, can you help me with-"

"No."

You scoffed, "What's the point of being partners, then?"

Miles had already returned to his original position, scribbling away. He didn't look at you, this time.

"We not partners, ma."

...And so began the longest school week of your life.

it’s kind of insane that we have snippets of what Marceline and Bubblegum’s life was like throughout the 1000 years between the mushroom war and the start of the series, but NOTHING of Ice King.

All we really have is that he was enslaved by Empress for a while until (presumably) Marceline killed her and saved him. And that was when she was still living with the human colony.

and I know. I KNOW we have to consider that a lot of this lore was written by lots of different people over the course of a decade so there are contradictions. And that a lot about Ice King was originally written as jokes. But I’m gonna try to come up with my own version the chronology. And also most Adventure Time lore started off as jokes anyway.

so like. How long was Simon able to hold on for?

enough to build a huge library…

Maybe, for a while, he tried to collect as much human memorabilia as he could.

he called Marceline “Gunther,” but did he ever sometimes call a penguin “Marceline”?

what if Simon first got into the ninja stuff (chamber of frozen blades) when he had built the ice castle but hadn’t completely lost it. what if he could tell he was using the crown too much, and he wanted to find an alternative way to defend himself.

maybe he even initially got his weights to keep himself strong as his body was degrading.

was it a complete transformation? or would he have phases of coherence? would he remember Marceline and try to find her, only to forget everything on the way there?

when did he start kidnapping princesses? how long had he been doing it for before Finn came along? What did they do about it?

when did he gain his reputation as Ice King?

when did he hang up his coat?

when did he stop feeling scared?

he was alone for so long. he was so lonely. (he’s still lonely)

sorry not sorry that im entering my fionna and cake hyperfixation era, and im so desperate for simon petrikov and child! reader (platonic), so if any of you find suggestions please please please comment them to me!

LOVE LOVE LOVEEE!! honestly i had to read through this again and just bask in this fic’s glory, I’M SO IN LOVEEE!!

Maybe We Will Get Through This Together Part 2

Characters: Jaime Reyes x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst, hopeful ending

Summary: You find out that you pregnant while Jaime is at college and, you have yet to tell him.

Warnings: alludes to past sexual experiences, talks of pregnancy, adoption, and abortion, talks about financial insecurity, arguing, lying, mentions of miscarriage

Special thanks to @scryarchives once again for their help!

Part 1 (you should probably read this lol)

-

You took a deep breath, “Jaime, I'm pregnant.”

He laughed, “What? What do you mean you're pregnant?”

You swallowed, “I am not joking. I've done all the tests. I am definitely pregnant.”

“We should give this time some privacy,” Nana proposed, and the rest of the family exited the restaurant and left you two alone.

Jaime blinked several times, trying to wrap his mind around this. You felt bad, this was a lot of information in just a few short moments.

“Um…um okay, how far along you? Wait…wait a minute,” he said suddenly with a confused look on his face. “How…how are you pregnant? We haven't had sex in months?”

Right, that part. You grimaced at this and started to explain yourself to the best of you ability.

“Um, okay so I’ve known I was pregnant for awhile. Um for about 3 months,” you admitted and hung your head in shame.

At the time, it seemed like a good idea. To hold off telling Jaime but right now, it didn’t feel like a good idea.

“So you lied?” Jaime asked bluntly and his eyes burning into your soul. “You lied, to my face. For months?”

Tears started to prickle into your eyes as you looked away from him, “I’m so, so sorry Jaime. I…I thought…”

“You thought it would be a good idea to lie to my face! To hide something like this from me?! How could you do that?! Why would you do that?! Every face time, every text message. You knew and just didn’t tell me,” Over the loud yelling and scathing glare, you could see his eyes becoming glossy.

Saying sorry was all you could do. The confidence you had that this was the right choice was completely shattered when you saw how upset Jaime was.

And wasn’t that just cruel irony. You chose to do something to make sure Jaime didn’t get hurt, but you ended up doing it anyway.

Jaime held his face in his hands, taking deep breathes to calm himself down.

“How far along?” He asked again.

“4 months,” you answered.

“4 months? I…I missed that much,” he mutter under his breath, lost in thought.

“Jaime, really I’m sorry. I….I just didn’t know how to tell you, and you were busy with school so I didn’t want to bother you,” you started rambling off an explanation but no matter what you said, it still didn’t seem right.

He looked at you in shock, “Bother me? How…how would telling me that your pregnant with my child is bothering me? How?!”

“Well you worked really hard to get into that college, and I thought knowing I was pregnant could distract you. And I didn’t want that so…”

Jaime looked at her, “So you lied to me for months because you decided that it would be best for me? Do you know how messed up that sounds?”

You sniffed, “Yes, I do, and I’m so, so, sorry.”

Jaime cleared his throat, “Well…is the baby alright?”

You numbly nodded. Jaime had a change the topic of the conversation, asking questions about the baby. But you could still feel the tension simmering around you, and could tell that he's obviously still mad.

After that you two walled home in utter silence. When you came home, the questions on the family’s face was obvious but they didn't speak it. Jaime didn't speak either, a small greeting and he went to his room.

God, where were you going to sleep tonight?

You don't think Jaime would ever kick you out but well you don't know exactly how he would react. You both had your fair share of arguments but they were never silent.

Cold, even.

For the next few weeks, you and Jaime co-existed in silence. You would sleep in the same bed with your backs turned to each other. You would eat the same dinner table but never talked directly to each other.

You were fixing your hair and getting your clothes on when Jamie entered the room. It was awkward staring and then silence, as usual.

“Where are you going?” he asked, noting your appearance.

“I have a doctor’s appointment,” you answered. You looked at the open dresser, none of shirts would fit you right now.

Jaime’s would though.

Before you would take the shirt without asking, but with how your relationship is, it felt like an overstep.

“Um, Jaime?” you turned around to see him getting dressed too. “What are you doing?”

“Going to the appointment with you,” he answered. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You winced, “Well…I didn’t think you would want to go with. Oh, and can I wear one of your shirts? None of my fit.”

Jaime stared at you, “Of course I want to go with, it’s my kid too. And since when have you ever asked for my shirts?”

You were struggling to come up with an answer, you hoped it was a rhetorical one but Jaime had an expectant gaze on you.

Jaime sighed when you didn’t speak and came closer to you, “Listen, I’m…I’m still angry with you, at you. But I still love and care for you, that will never change.”

You sniffed and hastily wiped your eyes, “Hormones,” you said and he nodded.

You quickly got dressed and you both went to your doctor’s appointment together.

You were nervous but excited, like you were for every appointment. You hoped for good news but always prepared yourself for the worst.

Though it was nice to have someone to go with you this time, maybe it’ll stop all of those judgmental stares that people think are not noticeable.

You settled into the bed while Jaime sat on the chair, holding your bag. It was quiet in the room and you didn’t know how to break the silence.

Even though Jaime expressed he still loved for you, it was still rather awkward.

The radiologist walked with a small smile on her face and a cheerful voice, “Hi, how are we doing today?”

Both you and Jaime answered a “Fine” and the woman sat in the chair.

“And who are you?” She asked Jaime.

“Oh, I’m Jaime Reyes, her boyfriend. Nice to meet you,” he introduced himself and shook her hand.

She smiled, “Nice to meet you too, my name’s Katie.”

You’ve been through this process before, you answered all of her questions on autopilot and didn’t even flinched when the cold goop was placed on your belly.

You saw Jaime intensively watching though, his eyes never leaving you or the multiple instruments.

“And here’s the fetus,” Katie pointed to the screen, using her finger she pointed out all of the features that your baby had.

You smiled softly and felt yourself tearing up, you looked at Jaime and saw him staring at the screen in wonder.

“Would you like to see the gender?” She asked.

“We can find that out this early?” Jaime marveled with hopeful eyes.

Eyes you haven’t seen in a while, it made you happy.

She nodded and moved the joystick around a bit and then stopped with a quiet gasped. “There, your having a little boy.”

“Really?” Jaime asked in a quiet voice and glossy eyes.

Katie smiles and the rest of the appointment goes by smoothly. She prints out copies of the ultrasound for you guys and soon you left the doctor’s office.

“God, he’s beautiful.” Jaime said, touching the picture delicately.

You chucked, “You can’t even see most of the baby’s features.”

“They are our baby. They’re gonna be beautiful, no matter what,” Jaime said and you smiled at him.

You felt things were getting better, slowly but surely.

Of course, it hurts not having Jaime’s complete trust but, well you made your own bed and now you must lie in it.

You just hoped that one day Jaime’s trust you again. You’ll do whatever it takes and wait as long as it takes to gain it back.

Maybe, you’ll get through this.

-

Sorry this is a day late lol.

Like and Reblog if you like to! It helps a lot.

Tags: @marmar-c, @renaimel, @asvterias, @alexa-33, @dcnerd98, @allthingsvicf, @losingmywayyyy, @nightwingandhissquad, @wintersdeadd, @sodacatz, @louiesdaydream, @zerosinterweb, @conicoroahre, @1clownette1, @fullsiinner, @bluecray0nn, @asvterias, @shslsimpette, @starii-light, @writing-fanics, @alienstardust, @silvermagnolias, @flyingmushroomss, @sarahbutnot, @theblackestvalkyrie

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how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru

.. it’s three pm, you’re sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except there’s one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).

content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic

when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just can’t help it.

you’re tired. so tired of the constant headaches–the migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.

the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, it’s much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room that’s assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.

so… that’s exactly what you do.

you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but you’re so dizzy that you can barely even move.

“y/n?”

-

the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.

he’s… here.

your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, he’s here.

head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. he’s crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. he’s saying something…

“where does it hurt, baby?” you’re still so stunned that you can’t find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. “is it okay if i massage that area, angel?”

throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because he’s here–he’s present, and he cares about you.

you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breath—a breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.

satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. you’re starting to burn up. “s more than a headache, baby. i’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”

this was going to be a long afternoon.

he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoru’s presence makes it slightly more bearable. “my poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?”

you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. “maybe. the headaches are getting worse.”

“you should take it easier on yourself. i can’t have you cryin’ like this. not on my watch,” he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. “y’know, if your migraines were a person, i’d make sure to hollow purple ‘em. no hesitation.”

a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.

you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. “just go to sleep, baby. i’ll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?”

“hm… i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-”

“alright.” he says, making a mental note that he should make food. “i’m going to go make you something, okay? i promise i’ll be back soon.”

“...don’t burn down the kitchen, please.”

“i can’t promise that, though.”

-

“you found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stove…”

satoru’s a little embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know how to cook.

growing up, he’s had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching him–gojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old man–how to make instant soup.

“the stove?”

“yeah…? don’t tell me you don’t know-”

“-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.” it feels like he’s trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like it’s his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it won’t budge. “what the hell?-“

“satoru-” it seems like the azure-eyed man doesn’t hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase “with this treasure i summon”, but that’s not even his technique). he can’t help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. “satoru!”

he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”—or really, just a look of utter disappointment. “you’re turning the stove the wrong way.”

“...”

he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.

“oh, yeah… um, i definitely knew that.”

“satoru, how do you survive whenever you’re not on a mission?”

“sometimes i think about that too, really. i think it’s because y/n is the one who always cooks.”

“you think i can’t tell already?”

-

much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.

he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinet–along with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. “wait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?”

and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, “the strongest”, thinks he’s the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.

“it’s an impressive feat, really.” he claims.

suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.

-

an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. you’re sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. “toru? s’that you?”

“it’s me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.” when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as you’re just now realizing how hungry you are.

“this is good,” you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. “didn’t know you could make this.”

“yeah, well, you better savor it.” cause i’m never making that again.

when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.

just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldn’t.

satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.

you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. “thank you, for um—for all of this.”

“s nothing. just promise that you won’t overwork yourself again, okay?” he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“i’ll try not to.”

“hey, you can’t say just that. you have to say, ‘i promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.’” he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

“okay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.” you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and he’s so glad that the lights are off so that you’re unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. “thank you for taking care of me… and for the soup. it was good.”

and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts aren’t in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that you’re feeling like this.

and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he can’t help but whisper, “yeah. next time, i’ll make you more than just soup. i’ll cook something special, just for you. ‘nd i won’t burn the pot again, either.”

because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup… and more.

moved -> @satorusgummies

synopsis : Satoru Gojo being a simp for you wearing a cute dress :3 contents: pouty gojo, fluff, fluffedy, fluff- cw: mentions of reader wearing a dress, just a teeny bit of suggestive content at the end :D

" 'Toru, people are staring-"

Gojo didn't even pay attention to what other people thought, right now all he cared about was hugging you as tight as earthly possible, because god you looked so pretty in that dress, with that blue silk glowing against your skin, and it matched with what he was wearing!

he wanted that dress for you and he wanted it now.

Letting go to admire you once more, Gojo quickly forced you to twirl, resisting the urge to giggle and kick his feet like a little boy as you stare at him with a amused glint in your eye.

Because he was a massive simp, and all he was actually kicking his feet, just a tiny bit so no one noticed, but it was obvious how in love he was with you.

And, you were pretty sure everyone in the store could see that.

To the giggles, to the whispers, to the stares of the watching employees and people, everyone knew the man was in love.

"Come on, let's go pay for it-"

that simple sentence wasn't even posed as a question, it was practically a plead as he grabbed your hand, and dragged you to the cash register.

"Wait I have to put on my normal clothes-"

"Why?"

You scoff as Gojo adjusted his tie, a pout forming on his face as he glanced down at you with his ethereal blue eyes, a hint of impatience on his face as he saw your frown.

"I'm wearing formal clothes! We can match!"

" 'Toru, that's because you just got home from a meeting, we can't go to McDonalds looking like we came from a five-star restaurant-"

"Who says?"

A few seconds of silence pass as you wage a silent battle with him through your eyes, and you sigh as Gojo gives you his best puppy eyes.

"....fine."

"YAY!"

"But I still have to get my clothes from the fitting roo-"

"I can just buy you new ones!"

Your protests were quickly snuffed out as Gojo nearly ran to the cash register, a sheepish grin befalling your face as you saw the woman manning the register raise an eyebrow at the over-excited man and you still wearing the dress, but she thankfully didn't say anything.

But it did get awkward because the dress you were wearing was the only one in stock and the damn tag got stuck so Gojo had to fish it out of your shirt sleeves.

And fifteen minutes later, you walked out of the store with your new dress, Gojo by your side with a goofy smile on his lips, as he cheerfully swung your hands, before turning back to gaze at you, his eyes crinkling up as he grinned at you, all the love, the devotion, everything showing on his face.

A lovesick puppy, almost.

"You're so beautiful Y/N."

He whispered, hugging you and burying his head in the crook of your neck ignoring all of the giggles and stares he attracted because of the gesture, his breath tickling your bare skin as he whispered a sentence that only you could hear.

"But... I think that dress would look better off, hm?"

(he ended up with a bruise on his forehead)

taglist🫶 @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

i think i've decided to change my blog into a writing-centred blog,,, will be making major changes around my profile and deleting a lot of my posts :')

i will only keep the drawings that are related to what i want to do, i suppose, and that probably includes fandoms that im not really active in anymore.

weary boy, how long have you been running?