Proving A Point To My Boyfriend.

AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! <3

𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

neteyam sully had always been the responsible older brother, and part of that was looking after his rogue younger brother. And maybe becoming a regular patient at the local healers...

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad

– author's note: this oneshot takes place about a year or so before the main events of avatar 2 (the evacuation of the sullys, etc.)

Neteyam Sully, respectfully, was the golden child. The one who could do no wrong.

Lo’ak Sully, on the other hand, was on the opposite end of that table. He was chaotic, rogue, and off-leash. Everything about him was to uproot his brother, to make his father notice him, albeit for the wrong reasons. And this often led to Neteyam taking the blame for his younger brother’s actions.

It became a habit. Lo’ak finds trouble, Neteyam is dragged along and the two of them end up with injuries. Well, that was the reason for the current situation that they were in.

Neteyam stood beside his brother, Lo’ak looking shamefully down at the ground as Jake had his arms crossed. The Toruk Makto let out a frustrated sigh at both his sons’ antics, gazing over their wounds.

Thankfully, it was nothing too serious, mainly scratches that bled a little along with bruises that could easily be healed with some salves.

Jake let out another huff as he pointed a finger at his younger son, Lo’ak’s gaze snapping up to meet his dad’s while Neteyam watched in silence.

“You are both grounded, no more flying off on your ikran without my permission for a week,” Jake huffed. “Neteyam, take Lo’ak to Mo’at so that she can heal the both of you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam responded clearly enough for his father to understand.

Lo’ak muttered under his breath and Neteyam elbowed his brother in a way that told him to keep his mouth shut. Jake’s eyes widened at his son’s defiance.

“I said, have I made myself clear?” Jake gave Lo'ak a stern look and Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

"Yes, sir," Lo'ak strained out.

"Good. Now get yourselves patched up."

With that, Lo'ak stormed out with Neteyam trailing behind him. But before the eldest son could leave, Jake placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Keep an eye out so that your brother doesn't cause more trouble," Jake sighed. "And I think you might want to get familiar with the other healers. Just in case, for future purposes."

"Yes sir."

“Grandmother!” 

Neteyam called out to Mo’at as he entered the hut, a grumbling Lo’ak following behind. 

“Grandmother, we might need some help with our injuries!” The eldest child frowned at the absence of his grandmother’s visage.

“Grandmother?” Neteyam called out again before hearing a thud behind him.

The boy whipped around to find that another figure had hopped down from a nearby branch, their face covered by curly locks.

“The tsahik has left to collect more herbs.” Her soft voice spoke as she approached the two brothers.

The girl put on a soft smile as she greeted the Olo’ekytan’s sons with their traditional greeting. From there, the boys took in her appearance, noting that she couldn’t be much younger than Neteyam.

Feathers dangled from her necklace, the upper layer a mint green, the lower a crimson red while another choker-like necklace was settled higher up on her neck, semi-precious stones attached to it. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” She smiled, and for a minute, Neteyam thought he felt his heartbeat stutter.

Lo’ak returned the gesture, nodding at the girl before glancing over at his brother. The younger son stared at the elder one in confusion as he elbowed his brother from his frozen state.

Neteyam blinked, pushing Lo’ak’s elbow away before hurriedly repeating the hand gesture of their greeting, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” He muttered, snapping out of his daze. “Are you… Are you a healer?”

“In training,” the girl replied with a kind smile. ”The tsahik entrusted me to take care of her healing place and to help in case anything were to happen. She predicted correctly, as per usual.”

Neteyam chuckled with a bright smile, something that didn’t pass Lo’ak’s suspicious stare.

“Well, grandmother is always right about most things,” he grinned. “So if you’re in charge, could you help tend to our wounds then?”

“Of course,” she beamed with a joking twinkle in her eye. “It is a healer’s job to heal, isn’t it?”

Lo’ak noticed how his brother didn’t reply at all, only smiling as though he were in a trance as the girl sat him down on a nearby cot. The younger brother followed, a small mischievous smile growing on his face as he realized his brother’s giddy grin.

Neyetam himself hadn't realized it, but he was enamored by her grace and poise as she walked around the hut, gathering the salves. He smiled gently at the way her hair framed her face perfectly. 

He felt as though whenever her kind eyes met his, he was being pulled into something dangerous but calming at the same time. And unknowingly, his heart beat a little bit harder when she placed her hand gently against the wound on his arm, the healing balms cooling on her finger tips.

Her hands were immaculately soft, and he felt his cheeks warm at the sensation. Neteyam quickly glanced away from the healer as soon as he saw how dangerously close her face was to his. He spotted her ochre eyes focused on treating his injury through her lashes, but he didn’t feel the sting of the salve meeting his skin.

“So, uh,” Lo’ak began, clearing his throat as the girl looked up at his brother’s direction.

“What’s your name?”

Neteyam’s face heated up in embarrassment at the thought of staring at her for so long without even knowing the girl’s name. He was internally thankful that Lo’ak spoke up.

“Näytle,” The girl smiled at the boys. “Näytle Te Ìviu Oa’ite.”

Neteyam repeated her name in her head, committing it to memory as he loved the way her voice so smoothly rang in his mind. 

Suddenly, she called his name and he felt like he was stuck in a daze again. His name rolling off of her tongue sounded so… right.

“Yes?” He blinked in response.

“I said your name correctly, yes?” 

The way her head tilted ever so slightly had his heart melting in his chest.

“Yes, yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Y-You said it perfectly.”

“Oh, thank Eywa I did.” She chuckled lightly as she released his arm. “I would’ve been so embarrassed if I had gotten either of your names wrong.”

“Well it’s hard to get it wrong,” Lo’ak shrugged. “Our names are really popular around the village–”

Lo’ak was interrupted with a silent hiss as he felt his brother lightly slap the back of his head. Näytle giggled at the brothers’ antics, watching the way a dumb grin returned to Neteyam’s face while Lo’ak grumbled, frowning at the gesture.

“No, no,” Näytle shook her head. “Your brother does have a point. You two have both built a reputation as the Olo’eyktan’s sons.”

“Is it anything good?” Neteyam queried with eager eyes, wondering if her thoughts on him were positive. He prayed to Eywa that they were only good things.

“Oh, it is perfectly fine,” the healer hummed with a grin. “I don’t think I would let what I hear from gossipers determine what I should think of you.”

“Well, I think you should expect our visits more often.” Neteyam placed up at the girl shyly.

“Why? Are both of you troublemakers?” Näytle gave him a questioning look and the older boy shook his head vehemently.

“Only Lo’ak. I’m just keeping an eye out for him.”

“Hey!”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not getting any injuries.”

Lo’ak huffed at his older brother for throwing him under the bus in such a fashion, especially for a girl.

“Well try not to be injured too much,” Näytle lifted her fingers from Lo’ak’s scraped knee, the salve applying smoothly on his rigid skin as she pulled away to return the lotions used.

“We can’t have the future Olo’eyktan be in bad condition before his rule.”

The girl finished off, tossing him a wink and Neteyam laughed stupidly at the joke. 

Lo’ak stood up from the cot, rolling his eyes in mock disgust as he grabbed his brother’s uninjured arm, dragging Neteyam away from his love-stricken stupor. 

“Yeah, okay! No promises though!” Neteyam called out from the hut’s doorway to where Näytle stood.

“Come on, skxawng,” Lo’ak grumbled, dragging his older brother away. “Your ogling eyes make me sick.”

“Maybe if you didn’t get us in trouble so much you wouldn’t be suffering now.” Neteyam ruffled his younger brother’s hair. 

“Besides, I don’t get what’s making you so sick. She’s a great healer.”

“Oh brother,” Lo’ak smiled at his brother in disbelief, his confident stride halting. “You’re seriously not this dense, are you?”

Neteyam’s confused smile was all the proof that Lo’ak needed to know that his brother was utterly clueless about his feelings towards the beautiful healer who homed the hut not too far from where they stood. 

“Maybe it was by Eywa’s will that you met her.” Lo’ak scoffed. “This is the worst punishment for my actions ever.”

theme inspired by @aokoaoi !

gif by @world-of-pandora

taglist: @mooncleaver @moonie-writings @peacelovepandora

anyone who says the blue beetle movie is a basic origin story is lying to you. in a normal superhero movie they get at least a day or two of fun hijinks—sticky fingers, zappy powers, quippy one liners—meanwhile jaime reyes over here is speedrunning the worst 48 hours i’ve ever seen anybody experience.

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

a tiny mishap is one way to start the day, but tsubame's not one to complain.

masterlist | previous !

–pairings: itadori yuuji x oc

– warning: mentions of abuse, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc

– author’s note: this is the final part to the series, but that doesn't mean that there won't be anymore yuuji and tsubame oneshots teehee!

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

The sun shone through the window of my sliding door. My alarm rang out in my ears, and I groaned, rubbing my eyes, hearing the chime of Fuji Kaze’s ‘Kirari’ from my phone. A sigh escapes me and I sit up in my bed, cracking my neck to free myself from the stiffness of sleep.

“Morning, Okaa-san,” I mumble, glancing at the picture of my family on my bedside table. “Morning, Eiji. Morning…”

I stare at my father’s smiling face in the photograph, gritting my teeth before letting out a sigh. My mind flashes memories at me; a smile, a crying figure, a bottle flying in my direction. 

Blood. Blood leaking down my cheek.

I rub my eyes, taking my glasses from my bedside table – it’s too early in the morning to hold grudges.

I look out the window, seeing the sun peaking just above the trees by the school. It must be close to seven. I stand up, making my bed before doing a little stretch, cracking my stiff joints. I exhale slowly, standing up upright once more, walking over to my uniform that’s hanging in the cupboard.

I prepare for my first day in class, pulling the baggy sleeves over my arms, and buttoning my uniform over my white dress shirt. I look in the mirror, sighing at my ragged appearance – and I look worse than usual.

“I’ll cut my hair next week,” I think, the voice in my head tired, pulling out a hair tie as I gather my messy hair into the neatest ponytail I can muster.

I pull my finger-less gloves over my forearms, smiling a little at the new addition. It hugged my arms and wasn’t so tight that it cut off circulation. I look at myself in the reflection, fixing the glasses on my face.

“Maybe I should get contacts too,” I wince, fed up with my glasses slipping down my face.

I make my way to my dorm door, tucking my phone into my pocket as I make my way outside. I take a deep breath, my hand on the door handle as I prepare to make the first move out – to give my classmates the next best impression of myself as a fellow first-year.

As I opened the bulky wooden door, a blur of pink crashed right into me, knocking me back. My back hit the floor as I felt someone land just above me, their hands on either side of my head as they hovered over me.

My eyes widen and I see the pink-haired boy from yesterday with dark brown eyes, the smile gone from his face as he stares down at mine, which was just inches away from his. Itadori Yuuji was silent, his cheeks pink, matching my heated face as I stared at him wide-eyed. My heart pounded against my chest, and breathing felt difficult.

He continued to stare down at me, and we were still for what felt like forever. Suddenly, he leaned closer, and my breathing hitched, my eyes widening as I felt my face become hot. I tried to back up, but my head was already against the floor.

“Your eyes have bits of lilac in them,” He said with intrigue in his eyes.

“W-What?” I gave him a look of confusion.

He noticed my blushing face, and it finally registered in his head how close we were as we lay on my room floor. I gave him a hard shove, regaining my train of thought, my expression turning into a glare.

“Pervert!” I hiss, shoving Itadori off of me, and his face flushed red with panic starting to grow in his eyes.

Nobara’s boisterous laughter was heard from my now-open dorm door, and I saw her point her finger in the direction of the boy beside me on the floor.

“HA! You truly are a pervert, Itadori!” Nobara jeered, Yuuji standing up as he glared at her with a blush.

“What?! You pushed me!”

“You have no proof of it!”

“H-Hey–”

“Can you both stop bickering for a minute,” Fushiguro sighed, walking up to the other two, his permanent scowl just that bit more prominent than yesterday.

I shook my head at their antics, but my eyes widened again as soon as a calloused hand was shoved in my face. I looked up, seeing Itadori’s awkward smile as he offered his hand out to me, trying to make up for his little stumble.

I side-glance his hand before taking it as he pulls me up, and the sparks are set off when my fingertips make contact with his palm. I feel myself blush when he places his free hand on my shoulders to steady me, and I swear, he notices the little jolt when we touch – I can see it from the way his eyes widen the slightest.

We stood there in silence and he didn’t say anything, only staring at me with a soft look in his eyes. I couldn’t take his gaze much longer, turning to Nobara as I cleared my throat, interrupting her and Fushiguro’s banter while my hand slipped out of his.

“Is uh… is there a reason why you all came to my dorm room?” I glance at them curiously.

“Yeah, Gojo-sensei just wanted us to check up on you. Class is starting in 15 minutes anyway, so we still have time,” Nobara huffs, her hands on her hips as she smirks down at Itadori. “However, I think someone was just more eager than the rest of us to see you again.”

Itadori’s face flushed red and he glared, pointing a finger at Nobara’s direction once more, “Not true! You shoved me!”

“Did not!” She retorts with arms crossed, now in defiance.

“Did too!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Let’s just get to class,” Fushiguro sighed, grabbing Itadori’s red hoodie as Nobara huffed, smirking triumphantly.

“Yeah, what Fushiguro said!” She grinned, grabbing my hand as the four of us walked to class. “I bet you can’t wait to join us in class, right Tadashi?”

I look at Nobara, recalling my mother’s words, mulling it over in my mind as my eyes trail to the two other boys. I see Fushiguro eyeing me suspiciously, and I feel my respect for him grow – one could never be too careful. 

However, with Itadori… things were different. Maybe we could be close, just like what my mother wanted, and I can’t deny the small spark of warmth in my heart from just the thought of being a friend of his.

“...Yeah,” I glance over at Itadori when he’s too busy trying to get his hoodie out of Fushiguro’s grasp. “I can’t wait.”

Something about him drew me to him. Maybe it was his wide smile or his trusting nature. Or maybe it was how he was so willing to be friends with someone like me without a second thought. His intentions were pure – innocent, and filled with warmth and admiration for others. I couldn’t deny the way it gave me a sense of hope, a feeling that I hadn’t experienced in a while.

He was filled with it, I could feel it from the way he smiled so widely without a care in the world, and the way he looked at others was enough to tell me he had plenty to spare. 

He, after all, was just like the sun, ever-bright and warm.

gif by @heycaz

taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki @sad-darksoul @yunymphs @saelestia @cheriiyaya @ladyth

< comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 4

Summary:

wc: 1k+

A/N: um hii sorry for updating a lil late 😅 but I got really into writing this esp at the end. We're almost done! As always feel free to comment your thoughts and reactions, or send them to my inbox! Thanks for reading :)

prev. next

Song: It's Only a Paper Moon - Ella Fitzgerald (totally optional to listen while you read, if you like that sort of thing)

The small plastic bag carrying your lunch swung from your wrist as you pushed the door to the counselor’s office open.

"Thanks again for helping me organize around here," said the woman standing beside you.

"No problem, Ms. Keene!"

By the time you stepped inside, Miles was already sitting at the round table in the middle of the room.

The boy spoke first as soon as your eyes met.

"Hey," he greeted you flatly. His stare wasn't too far off from the look of curiosity you get from a stray cat that isn't certain whether you're trying to give it food or not; neither malicious nor particularly excited.

You tilted your head in surprise.

"Hey, you in trouble or something?"

Miles shook his head.

"Ms. Keene lets me have lunch in here."

"You two know each other?" The tall, dark-skinned woman asked. Though she had asked you both, she beamed at Miles as she spoke. He glanced back and forth between you and the woman.

"Kinda."

She clasped her manicured hands together. 

"I'm glad you're starting to make friends again. That's progress. Enjoy your lunch," Ms. Keene said as she spun on her heel to leave, her short bob cut bouncing along with her.

"And put on those glasses!"

Miles rolled his eyes as the door shut with a click.

"Everybody's on your case about these glasses, dude. Just put 'em on," you said as you sat down next to him.

"Don't need 'em."

"Okay," you pointed to the analog clock hanging directly across from him, "tell me what time it is without using your phone."

He scoffed.

"Easy, it's…"

The boy stood, and squinted so hard that his nose scrunched. He heard you laughing through your nose behind him after a minute and soon dropped back down to his seat, hands raised in resignation.

"Alright, you got me. But who's looking at the damn clock all day?"

"Sitting in the back of the classroom with no glasses on is nuts, Miles. What's so bad about them?”

Miles pouted in indignation, "They make me look like Steve Urkel.”

“They can’t be that bad,” you said, grabbing the case from next to him and prying it open. “Lemme see.”

“Nope.”

“Just this once!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Please?”

The boy sighed, then took the glasses from you with a wary expression. He looked at them like they were a moldy piece of bread before finally putting them on.

“Happy?”

Neon green color aside, the glasses were truly not that bad. The thick lenses framed his face and made him look younger. The boy blinked, awaiting your verdict.

“Awww, you look like a little nerd!”

“Don't start with that,” Miles shook his head, a grin spreading across his face in spite of himself. He swiped them off of his face and took the case from you.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you said over a bite of your sandwich, “you look cute in them.”

He froze, a hand instinctively flying up to scratch the nape of his neck before turning his gaze in the other direction. You could still see the impression of his dimples peeking out from the side.

“Don’t get a big head over it, now,” you elbowed him gently. He quickly changed the subject.

“I’m finna tell Ms. Keene that you’re distracting me.”

Miles was now hunched over his notebook again. He had his homework sheet covering one page, but you could tell he was sketching. When you tried to look over his shoulder, he frantically shut it closed.

“Can you not be nosy for five minutes?”

“My fault, bro, damn.”

Miles continued to draw quietly for almost the entirety of calculus, never once allowing you to peek at it. He didn’t pause until you lightly tapped his arm.

The boy flinched at the sudden contact, but you had his attention.

“I’m stuck on this problem you wrote, just this one. Help me out?”

He tapped his pen lightly on the desk in consideration. Finally, he shrugged, closing the notebook and sliding it to the side.

“Sure.”

You placed the worksheet between you and Miles, where your desks met.

“It’s this one. I’m not getting the solution you got,” you explained, placing a finger on the offending equation. 

Miles peered closely at it. His braids nearly brushed the desk as his head moved.

“You gettin’ it wrong because you forgot to distribute here,” he pointed. “Everything has to distribute.”

You nodded as the gears in your head got to turning again. “Thanks.”

-

“Ma!” Miles whined as he took his plate of yellow rice and peas from the table.

“I’m just saying! La chica es muy linda, sigues mirándola. Don’t do anything crazy up there, understand?”

You were far from fluent, but the first bit of the brown woman’s sentence made a shy smile grace your features.

“This looks so good, thanks Mrs. Morales.” you said as you grabbed your own plate, carefully carrying it with both hands. 

“No problem, baby,” the woman replied, gently smacking the back of her son’s head before sending you both upstairs. “Same time as usual.”

“Your mom’s nice,” you remarked once you entered Miles’ room.

“You just sayin’ that ‘cuz she gassed your head up,” Miles laughed.

“Whatever. I’m ‘bout to fuck this plate up!”

“Not on my bed, I hope.”

The boy gave you a warning glance.

“Relax, you see me sitting?” 

You blew on a spoonful of rice before trying it, and the flavor nearly made your eyes pop out of your skull.

“Your momma went crazy in that kitchen.”

“M-hm,” was all Miles could reply as he shoveled the rice into his mouth, already halfway through the plate.

Soon both of your plates had been scraped clean, and you started working after taking the dirty dishes downstairs to wash. All three calculus problems had been completed, but a small squabble broke out over the appearance of the slideshow that Miles had put together.

“It looks so boring,” you complained. “At least make the background a different color–”

“Uh-unh, you gon’ make it hard as fuck to read. I say we keep it simple,” the boy swatted your hand away from the keyboard.

“Make the title dark magenta, and you got a deal.”

He sighed, “Fine. It’s legible, I guess.”

It was still only 7:30 by the time the project was finished, and you didn’t feel like leaving behind the warmth of Miles’ home just yet.

“Can you play some music?” 

Miles spun around in his swivel chair.

“What kind?”

“I dunno, whatever you listen to,” you tilted your head at him quizzically. “What do you listen to?”

“Um,” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small Bluetooth speaker, setting it on his desk. “Just…whatever I feel like. Lots of stuff.”

He carefully laid down on his bed next to you, making sure to maintain at least a few inches of distance.

Old jazz music began to float through the air.

“You like Ella?”

“Yeah,” he said at a near-whisper. “...I do now. Forgot what this song was called.”

“‘It’s Only A Paper Moon,’” you answered. “From ‘The War Years’. Beautiful record.”

Miles snuck a glance at the side of your face while you stared up at the ceiling. He liked the dreamy, far-off way you’d said the title.

“You sound old as fuck right now,” he commented. “Record…”

This made you burst into laughter, and Miles decided that he didn’t mind that sound, either.

“My momma always calls ‘em ‘records’, so I picked up the habit.”

“I like how you talk.”

You finally turned your head and met the boy’s eyes. The small grin playing on his face wasn’t a teasing one.

“‘How I talk?’”

“When you’re not grilling me with questions like a cop? Yeah, it’s nice.”

Not sure what to do with this new information, you turn your gaze back up to the ceiling.

“You’re a strange one, Miles,” was all you could say.

There was a brief pause before you asked,“What did you mean by ‘now’?”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “What’d I say about complete sentences?”

“Sorry,” you rolled your eyes. “You said you liked this song now, you didn’t like it before?”

He was silent for a good, long, ten seconds before answering.

“I used to not be super into jazz. Dad used to play that shit on the radio, driving me to school. I hated having to hear it the entire ride,” he laughed. “I know he’s somewhere making fun of my ass now.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, wondering if you should offer comforting words, or your condolences. Knowing Miles – at least a little – you decided against it.

“I used to listen to Ella songs when the house got too loud, or while I was eating lunch.”

“They let you listen to music down there?”

“Nah, I was eating upstairs with the English teacher after she saw me sitting by myself.”

“You still sit by yourself?”

Shaking your head, you answered, “I usually sit with Tianna, she’s usually my calc partner. This week’s kind of an exception.”

“So if it wasn’t for her, I woulda finished this shit three days ago,” he joked.

You placed your hand over your heart and gasped dramatically. “You mean you don’t enjoy being graced by my presence?”

“Hm,” Miles conceded, “I enjoy it a little.”

“Is this your way of saying we besties now?”

“Whoah, never mind. You killed the moment.”

“That was a moment?”

“Nope, forget everything I just said.”

-

Fun trivia since we're almost at the end: what book do you think Miles and the MC are reading in English class? There's no prize for answering but i'll be really excited about it. Thanks again for reading!

Taglist:

@thisaccountisrandomsstuff

@sizeablysized

@itsnotino

@asteria33

@kissmxcheek

@urmotherswhor3

@mrs-morales

@sukisprettyface

@kezibear

@missusmorales

@mystic60

@milesmolasses

@simp4miguell

@youcantseem3

@scryarchives

@mainvamp

@aki-ham

@v-vampy

@iluvweasleys

@pietromaximoffsbabe

@duckyduck25

@ulovejayy

@laylasbunbunny

@citrusequalsfrogs

@justreadingabooksstuff

@aoibhinnnnnnnnnnn

@euphorichappiness10

@gaychaosgremlin

@p3rf3ct4ng3l

@usoppsstar

@lovefrominaya

@arizzu

@tanchosanke

@animechick555

@ca1ist0

@spo0kypigeon

@theleftkittycollection

@oceean

@edgyficuselastica

@sophiaj650

@inluvwithneteyam

@fennecspage

@stevenknightmarc

@okayiamkassandra

@gwennesy

@kklovess

@hana-1235

@r3d0n33

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.

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

<3

I would've done anything for another fancy dinner episode

reminder that i moved -> @satorusgummies !!

Yo its the one and only @kesshavx (it wont lemme use that acc when questioning) anyways i was wondering if you could do jjk boys reaction to getting pranked by their so's,pranks can be anything you like! Lots of love Kessha

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 "𝟒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 by 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐨"

✭ pairings: teen!gojo, teen!geto, teen!nanami, yuuji & megumi ✭ warning: fluff, fem!reader, pranks, etc!

HI KESSHAAA <33 thank you so much for another lovely request!! i had so much fun coming up with their silly little shenanigans!! >v< enjoy!!

OO1. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ It started as a harmless prank that turned into an ongoing prank war between you two ✧ No one remembers who started it or what it is, but everyone around you both are tired of it. ✧ Both of you lost track of how many pranks you’ve done on each other, but Gojo’s just that tad bit more competitive than you are. ✧ “Ha! Got you this time princess. Score uh… score 90 for me, 50 for you!” -- “You got it wrong Toru, It’s 80 for me and 81 for you.” ✧ Eventually, the pranks got out of hand when Satoru swapped out your hair conditioner with neon green hair dye.  ✧ “You look horrible!” -- “Satoru, you are SO dead!” ✧ Let’s just say it ended up with an empty conditioner bottle being thrown in his direction, and a cuddle session for compensation.

OO2. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ It was a little prank where you doodled little things on his face while he slept, most of them being harmless little hearts with the occasional curly circle and moustache. ✧ Unfortunately, you didn’t realise it was a permanent marker and you ran out of alcohol wipes. ✧ Suguru was left with those silly marker doodles on his face as you both walked out to the closest convenience store, a hoodie pulled over his face to hide his embarrassment. ✧ “You’re so lucky I love you because if I didn’t, you’d be long gone by now.” ✧ You owed him lunch for the next week, he’d wait expectantly in the cafeteria with his arms crossed. ✧ “Homemade? I’m impressed, sweetheart. I’m almost tempted to forgive you right now.” ✧ He deserved it after a little kid laughed out loud at the doodles on your way home from the store with alcohol wipes in a white plastic bag, and a bottle of facial moisturiser next to it.

OO3. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ His whole face is red and flustered.  ✧ You simply distracted him by pointing something out to him, and when he turned back after seeing nothing, the tip of your pen met his face. ✧ He was initially a little irritated, but that changed when you gently brushed his cheek, rubbing the ink off of his face and laughing softly at the smudge. ✧ “Sorry, Kento-kun. You just looked so cute looking clueless and a little grumpy.” ✧ That’s when he felt his heart thump hard. ✧ Stumbled all over his words and he looked away so fast, he thought he felt his neck crack. ✧ “I-It’s fine, you meant well.” ✧ At that moment, Kento realised that he didn’t care about whatever prank you pulled on him. As long as you smiled, he was happy.

OO4. 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ You pranked him by swapping out all the cookies in his cookie tin with your sewing materials (from how much you’re patching up both yours and his uniforms). ✧ Initially, he was very confused about where his cookies went until he saw you giggling from the corner of his eye. ✧ “Hey, where’d all my cookies go– Oh… you sneak!” ✧ He’s smiling widely, walking over to you in strides as he wraps his arms around you, digging his fingers into your sides and rendering you helpless in your tickle fight until you tell him where his cookies really are. ✧ “C’mon! Tell me where they are, I’m not gonna stop until you tell me!” ✧ Eventually, when you do tell him, he pulls you to his chest as you both end up in a little cuddle session, his cookies half-forgotten (you both ate them together afterwards anyway).

OO5. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ This poor boy was stuck with feathers and whipped cream on his face. ✧ Since he’s the more serious one of you two, you thought it’d be funny to set him up with the most ridiculous prank. ✧ While he rested on his bed after a mission, you sprayed whipped cream on his hand, pulling a feather out of the bag you bought, to tickle the tip of his nose. ✧ Unfortunately, one feather pulled out another and they softly landed on his face, causing him to sneeze. ✧ The whipped cream ended up on his face either way, just like you predicted, but the feathers rested all over him, from his hair to his face. ✧ Once he realised you had a part to play in this messy prank, he clicked his tongue, wiping the whipped cream off of his face with a tissue. ✧ “Tsk, idiot.” ✧ While you burst into giggles, he grabbed you and pulled you next to him, cupping your cheeks as he gave you a little revenge kiss. ✧ “You’re lucky you’re my idiot.”

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒!! OO6. 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐘𝐔... ꩜ .ᐟ

✧ He’s a sweet kid, and if anything, he’s playing a prank with you on Nanami. ✧ Unfortunately, the plan required lots of glue on poor Nanami’s chair, and the blonde boy realised his mistake the moment he brushed off your cheeky grins. ✧ The both of you are laughing til both your sides hurt as you see Nanami turn to you both with reddened cheeks and an obvious glare, but the two of you run off before he can try to walk over and lecture you both. ✧ “See? I told you it’d work!” -- “Never doubted you for a second!” ✧ You both end up hanging around the courtyard, talking about nothing and everything. ✧ He admires you, from the way your eyes sparkle talking about your favourite book, to the way you frown when talking about your least favourite subject in class. Everything just tunes out when he’s with you. ✧ One day, he promises to himself. One day, he’ll tell you how he feels.

new adventure time content coming up with many, many doodles :))

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

it's been almost a month since the whole "Victoria Kord Blue Beetle Fiasco", and Jaime has loads to sort out, especially since the new neighbour might not be what she says she is...

masterlist | next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers

– author's note: after watching the blue beetle movie, I've been so down bad for jaime reyes i had to make a one-shot series for him. disclaimer: i'm not of Hispanic descent and i have don't know casual terms spoken, so do correct me if im wrong!

The sun's heat beat down on the hot sand, heat waves radiating off the ground from the high temperature. A winding tarmac road lay between the plains, and a little vehicle sped down it, emptiness surrounding them.

“Mama, how much longer until we get to… Palmera City?” The woman drawled, picking up a pamphlet in her right hand, and pulling her wireless headphones down with the other.

“We're pretty much there, Drea,” A woman replied, hands on the steering while and eyes trained on the road. “We’re almost there.”

“Why can’t I just fly there myself? You and Amma can take the car. I’m twenty Ma, not five,” Drea huffed, neatening out her ruffled ebony waves. “You taught me how to fly when I was ten, anyways.”

“Kanna, you don’t even know where Palmera City is,” Another woman turned her head in the passenger’s seat to face her daughter in the back. “And you don’t know where the house is.”

“I do know where it is, El Paso Street, Palmera City.”

“Which house then? And you only knew Palmera City from the pamphlet,” The woman driving chuckled. “Besides, don’t you like spending time with your mamas?”

Drea said nothing in return, grumbling and pulling her headphones back over her ears, blasting her music at almost full volume.

“She grew up too fast,” The other passenger sighed, her hand on her forehead. “When did she become twenty? Remind me, please.”

“She turned twenty almost two days ago, aṉpu,” The driver grinned. “Did you forget that she almost set the house on fire when we told her about the move?”

“Please, don’t remind me, Zara,” Anika sighed at her wife’s entertainment. “I’m still drained from all of the mess I had to clean up after.”

“Nika, we’re moving, new people, new sights to see, and new opportunities for a good life for you and me. For our family,” Zara, the driver, smiled softly. One of her hands slipped off the driver’s wheel, encasing itself around Anika’s smaller hand.

“Besides, Drea needs a job, something that can keep her steady until she finds out what she wants to do,” She shrugged. “And Palmera City might have everything she needs.”

“‘Might have’ are the keywords.” Anika’s worried eyes met Zara’s calm ones. “If it doesn’t? Then what? She’ll just, what, fly alone to a new place?”

“Probably. But that’s okay, I was her age when I came here, and I needed something new. Something different. And then I met you, and I felt love for the first time,” She winked, her wife flushing.

“Oh stop it you, focus on driving!”

“Alright, alright. But you get my point, right?”

“Yeah… I do."

“Until that happens, if that ever happens, we’ll be just fine.”

“Hermano,” Milagro huffed, her hands forearm deep in water as she held a plate in her hands, holding it up to her brother, who was staring out the window in curiosity.

“Jaime,” She called out once more, her brother still unresponsive, the girl’s patience snapping. “Earth to Jaime Reyes!”

Jaime jumped slightly, taking the plate, gaze focused back on the window while muttering apologies to his younger sister.

“Sorry, sorry,” He wrapped the plate with the cloth in his hands hurriedly.

“What’s got you so distracted?” Milagro frowned, peering over his shoulder to see a moving truck parked outside their house. More accurately, in front of the empty house across the road from them.

“Oh, new neighbours,” She nodded, taking another soapy plate to rinse off from her mother. 

“I wonder what they’ll be like,” Bianca Reyes hummed, handing Milagro another plate.

“It’s about time someone moved in that house,” Milagro chirped. “That house has been empty for as long as I can remember."

"That's not true," Jaime glanced at his sister. "Mrs. Diaz lived there for a while before her son moved out."

"Oh yeah… But that was still ages ago. So my statement still counts."

Jaime playfully rolled his eyes, a smile faint on his face. Glancing over, Milagro questioned her brother teasingly.

"Why are you staring there so much, anyways? Did you see Jenny?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

"What? No, no. We're just friends," He huffed.

"Sure you are."

"No, look. Khaji-Da scanned their moving stuff—"

"Woah! Boundaries, hermano!"

"Exactly! But she did it somehow and she warned me about them."

"What? Is she saying that they're villains? Like Jenny's crazy aunt?" The girl beside Jaime placed a hand on her hip. "C'mon, they're new neighbours, how bad can they be?"

"Pretty bad," Khaji-Da chimed in Jaime's head, her host glaring.

The rest of the day proceeded to be uneventful. After dishwashing and tidying up after lunch, Jaime hadn't done much other than trying to find work or helping his mother around the house.

Occasionally, Nana would come around for a drink while taking a break from her sewing, and Milagro soon joined Jaime in his room, the two job-hunting together. Uncle Rudy was… well, somewhere working on "an upgrade for the truck Jenny had gifted", according to him.

If he could, Jaime would have described the atmosphere as "chill and somewhat productive".

His mind drifted from the list of temporary jobs he could apply for on the site he sat on to the whole "Blue Beetle Fiasco" over a month ago. To the friend he hoped would be something more, until she, in the nicest way possible, tried to turn him down.

"Jaime, you're thinking about Jennifer again."

Instantly, he shook his head, trying to refocus his attention.

"Nope, nope. I'm completely focused. See? I can qualify for a…" He narrowed his eyes, reading the word his pointer was aimed at. "Chiropractor? What, no—"

"You need to move on, Jaime. The positive is that Jennifer is still your friend. You have more responsibilities."

"Yeah, and I'm doing it with Mili," Jaime then looked around him, wondering why his sister's questioning and prying hadn't begun.

"Milagro had left to get a drink, while you were busy 'looking for jobs'," Khaji-Da chimed in, rubbing in her point before her host could ask.

"Thank you, Khaji," Jaime huffed sarcastically. "How long has she been gone for?"

"Ten minutes."

"That long?"

"You were deep in thought."

"Got it," He grumbled, pushing himself off of his bed to find his job-hunting partner. "Mili!"

He called out his sister's name, hoping to find her peering around a corner in response, but was returned with nothing, not even a single quip.

"Mili?" Jaime frowned at the lack of noise in his home.

"Nana? Uncle Rudy?"

Seeing that no one was responding, Jaime narrowed his eyes, his mind darting to the worst-case scenario.

"Khaji, can you scan or locate where my family is?"

"Your mother—"

"Jaime! There you are!" Bianca cut Jaime off, her son relieved to see that she was alright.

"—is right here."

"Thank you for the… status, Khaji," He whispered before smiling, letting out a sigh. "Mama, where's everyone?"

"They're outside, greeting the new neighbours!" She furrowed her brows, a smile still gracing her lips. "I thought Mili told you? Oh, I'll talk to her about it later, come come! Let's meet the neighbours, yes?"

She grabbed Jaime's upper arm, rushing out to meet up with the rest of the family.

"Jaime, meet Mrs Tlatilpa, and her daughter, Alejandra!" Bianca smiled.

Jaime smiled over at who he assumed was Alejandra, as she did look quite a bit younger than the woman beside her.

Taking in her appearance, he noticed that she almost looked Hispanic, like him, though her skin was slightly darker. Her hair remained wavy and was a dark shade of brown, pretty much black if he hadn't noticed it against the sunlight. If he looked close enough, he noticed that she had a few strands of braids tied together here and there.

She tilted her head as her wireless headphones covered in vibrant stickers were plastered all over, covering the brand's logo, and it seemed like stars — he noticed a few hand-sewn ones on her baggy jeans — seemed to be her favourite pattern.

Triangle earrings glinted in the light as her dark brown eyes watched him in curiosity. If he looked close enough, he could almost see sparks of red—

"You're staring, Jaime."

He flinched from Khaji-Da's comment, holding his hand out to shake hands, the woman across from him doing the same.

"Reyes, my name's Jaime Reyes," He nodded, putting on his best smile.

"Alejandra Tlatilpa. But you can call me Drea," She nodded respectfully before switching her glance to his shoes. "Cool shoes."

"Ah, uhm thanks. Not my favourite pair, but they serve their purpose," He chuckled, almost sadly as he remembered the fate of his now-incinerated favoured shoes.

"She's dangerous," Khaji-Da pointed out, Jaime's brows furrowing.

"What? No way," Jaime muttered, Drea, blinking in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" She questioned for clarification.

"No, sorry, I uhm… just a habit of mine, I talk. To myself," He quickly responded, his smile turning awkward.

"Right," She pointed a finger, nodding once more. "Got it. Don't worry about it, we all have our habits."

"Look at the two of you getting along!" Mrs Tlatilpa grinned. "Kanna, why don't you go get Mama? I'm sure she'd love to meet new people."

"Yeah, sure," Drea chirped, smiling one last time at Jaime. "See you around."

"So, your wife?" Bianca questioned, her eyes curious.

"Ah yes, it's a long story," Anika laughed nervously.

"No, no worries! In fact, would your family like to join us for tea?"

gif by @rob-pattinson

taglist: @mooncleaver < comment/dm me if you'd like to be on the taglist! >