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˚ʚ gabi's 2k sleepover! ɞ˚

hi everyone! welcome to the sleepover! i just want to thank you for all the love & support on this blog! i've only been writing for maybe a month so having 2k followers is out of this world! i hope u enjoy this little event i put together ᥫ᭡

→ you can participate as many times as you like, the only entry is following me ! → this event will be open from now - july 10th!

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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟏

zara tlatilpa goes mama bear mode, but jaime figures that it's for the best.

masterlist | previous , next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

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

– author’s note: honestly, mama bear zara has my heart <3 disclaimer: i’m not of Hispanic or Aztec descent and used a translator for certain terms, so do correct me if im wrong!

translations: muy bien entonces, criatura terca - alright then, strange creature mijo, ¿a dónde vas? - darling, where are you going? èl se fue a verla de nuevo, ¡le gusta! - he's going to see her again, he likes her! No es nada, nana - it's nothing, nana ¡deberías llevarla a una cita y mostrarle el amuleto de Reyes! - you should take her on a date and show her the Reyes charm! ¿Lo entiendes? - do you understand? y recuerda, compórtate bien - and remember, behave yourself ¡sin travesuras! - no shenanigans! todavía soy demasiado joven para ser abuela - i'm too young to be a grandmother ese es un buen chico - that's a good kid

A thump rang throughout his chest as Jaime did a double take at the message, his face heating up.

“Hey, Khaji, just to make sure, I’m not seeing things, right?” He muttered, pushing the hair out of his squinted eyes, re-reading the message repeatedly.

“Jaime, your vision is excellent. Alejandra has invited you to her place since her pet wants to meet you.”

“Why do you call her Alejandra? I’m pretty sure she’d be okay with you using her nickname,” Jaime shrugged, pushing himself out of bed as he suddenly felt conscious of what he was wearing.

“If her name is Alejandra, I shall address her as so, I have no emotional attachment to her,” Khaji-Da responded plainly, Jaime rolling his eyes.

“Could you at least try? It’s so weird not hearing her being called by her nickname.”

“Not likely.”

“Muy bien entonces, criatura terca,” Jaime muttered under his breath, pocketing his phone as he pushed his room door open, now wearing a baggy set of jeans, his navy blue shirt beneath a light blue and white, short-sleeved flannel.

“Jaime,” Bianca Reyes beamed, looking up from the paper in her hands as she spotted her son emerge from his room, glad to see him going places instead of being cooped up in his little room, despite him only coming out for breakfast this morning.

Noticing her son dressed up to go out, her brow furrowed, placing her pen down for the shortest moment as Jaime hummed back at her, leaning his weight against the back of a nearby chair.

“Mijo, ¿a dónde vas? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?” She tilted her head to look up at her son, Jaime walking closer to her to place a little peck on the top of his mother’s head.

“I won’t be far, Mamá. I’m heading over to Drea’s, she’s invited me over.”

“Él se fue a verla de nuevo, ¡le gusta!” Nana called out from the living room’s couch, Jaime’s eyes rolling lightheartedly.

“No es nada, Nana,” Jaime sighed with a smile, used to the teasing. “She’s just a good friend, I guess.”

“She’s got a point, Cabrón,” Rudy smirked, the front door of the single-storey house thudding closed behind him.

“You have been hanging around her quite a bit. ¡Deberías llevarla a una cita y mostrarle el amuleto de Reyes!”

Hearing that caused Jaime to flush a bright red, Rudy letting out a boisterous laugh at his nephew’s reaction, walking over to the young man and landing a heavy back slap on Jaime, the young Mexican hero wincing slightly.

“Okay, okay,” Bianca sighed with a smile. “Let’s leave him be, go on your little hang out. Dinner’s at six-thirty, no negotiations. ¿Lo entiendes?” 

“Sí, Mamá,” He sighed, letting his mother affectionately pat his cheek.

She smiled up at him softly, before her forefinger and thumb pinched Jaime’s cheek tugging gently as her son complained at the discomfort despite being twenty-two.

“Y recuerda, compórtate bien. ¡Sin travesuras! Todavía soy demasiado joven para ser abuela,” She lectured, Jaime’s hand wrapped around hers to try and pull her hand away, the rest of the Mexican family laughing at their antics.

With a final tug, Bianca released her son’s cheek, Jaime sighing as he put on his sneakers, and walked right out of the door with a warm smile, realising that he could never find it in himself to dislike their affectionate teasing.

Sauntering over to his neighbour’s house, he glanced behind him, feeling eyes trained on the back of his head. Turning the slightest, Jaime noticed the way the curtains of his kitchen’s windows shifted ever so slightly, and a chuckle escaped his lips, realising his family’s gaze wouldn’t leave him anytime soon.

Finally, his feet halted, realising that he stood in front of his neighbour’s lawn, and for some reason, he suddenly felt nervous. Shoving his hands back into his pockets, his fingers fiddled with the threads. A new nervous habit, he noted, taking in a final deep breath as he marched on to her front door.

Deep in his mind he could hear Rudy’s slight sigh of disappointment, muttering something along the lines of, “Ay, ay, ay…"

Now face-to-face with the mahogany door of the Tlatilpas, Jaime lifted his fist, knuckles hovering over the dark wood before leaning his head back, mustering up all of his courage to knock on the door. 

The knocks echoed throughout the area, and for a brief moment, everything stilled. And then the door jolted open, revealing a woman who towered over him behind a patterned, iron grill gate.

Her short, dyed hair was parted at the right of her scalp, a tattoo visible on her upper right arm – it’s pattern almost resembling one of Drea’s golden arm cuffs of her hero costume. 

The red spaghetti top she wore exposed her lean physique and a baggy pair of white shorts wrapped around her hips, but her muscles were still visible as she tilted her head, and Jaime just felt the slightest bit intimidated. 

That was until she let out a large smile, hands rushing to unlock the extra form of protection before finally opening it successfully. She tugged at the gate - with an almost unnecessary amount of force, Jaime might add - before opening her arms wide.

“And you must be Jaime Reyes! Milagro’s brother, right?” She asked eagerly, her voice rich and warm. Jaime could suddenly tell which parent Drea got her constant stream of energy from.

“Sí, Mrs Tlatilpa,” He smiled nervously, eyes snapping open as she pulled him into a deep, bear hug. 

“Ah, I have so much to thank you and your sister for! My little Spark doesn’t make friends easily, and it’s so good to hear that she trusts you both with her life! It’s so nice seeing her happy again.”

“O-Oh?” Jaime wheezed slightly with a wince before being released from her constrictive grip. “I, uh, I’m honoured, Ma’am.”

“Please, Tiá Zara would do just fine,” She beamed. “I’ll go call Drea, you go make yourself comfortable!”

She scooted slightly, letting Jaime through, and he could hear the thud of iron from behind him as she locked the gate again, but as he glanced around, Jaime looked in awe at the cosy little living room around him.

Pictures of the family of three were present on almost every wall, a few black and white pictures framed up alongside them, but not as meticulously kept, as dust gathered on the glass frame protecting the almost faded image.

The green of the potted plants stood out against the vermilion-painted walls, a comfy-looking beige couch resting against the wall as a plush and fuzzy persian carpet rested underneath the glass and teak-framed coffee-table, the television across it reflecting his image in the darkness. A pile of hard-cover books rested above it, for anyone who was interested to take a peak.

Walking around the room, Jaime took a little peak at everything, though his intuitive eye lingered longer on any image he assumed was Drea’s a little longer than expected. A smile was soon plastered on his face at the sight of an energetic little girl standing on a chair, her wide smile missing two-front teeth as a large cake was placed before her.

Her dark brown strands were barely tamed, giving the young girl a wild look, but the tiny crown that sat on her head and her upright posture made her almost seem regal at a glance.

Quickly, he pulled his phone out, snapping a shot of the image before his phone disappeared into the darkness of his pocket. Once in a while, a few embarrassing photos would be nice as ‘blackmail’.

“I see you found her fifth birthday picture,” Zara grinned, watching Jaime with crossed arms. “Yeah, that one was too cute not to hang up. She still insists I take it down, but we both know that it’s never going to happen.”

Zara then approached the younger male, seating herself on the coach as Jaime turned to look at more of the pictures. He brushed over the faded family photos, almost recognising one of the younger girls as Aunt Anika before moving onto the next one, deciding not to pry.

“Jaime, I’d like a word with you,” Zara began, her warm tone turning strict and reserved. “It’s regarding Drea.”

Instantly, he turned around, a furrow in his brow. He watched as the older woman stood up on her feet, walking closer to the male as her hands heavily landed on his shoulders.

“Now, I know that my daughter has trusted you with information that wasn’t your right to know, but she trusted it with you anyways. And she’s had a tough time finding the people to choose to be her friends, you’re lucky to be one of them,” She spoke, looking Jaime dead in the eye.

“However, though I may like you for keeping silent so far, if a word ever slips past your lips, and it ever puts her at risk? I can’t guarantee that you will be friends for much longer,” The look in her eyes turned almost sad, almost guilty for threatening her daughter’s friendships.

“You must understand, I do this because I love her, and I won’t stand idly aside if anything bad ever happens to her. Do you get me?”

He watched as she practically begged him with her eyes, his throat going dry as he nodded, knowing that if his own family’s safety was compromised, he’d do anything to make sure they’d be safe. And with the look Drea’s mother gave him, he felt the urge to protect Drea with the same amount of care too. 

‘I do, Tiá, more than you know,” A determined look rested on his face as Zara let out a smile of relief, her hand patting his shoulders in a proud manner.

“Ese es un buen chico.”

And so she turned around, ready to continue with whatever she was doing before he had arrived, her fingers lightly brushing on the walls before she came to a halt, turning her head to face Jaime one last time before she took her leave.

“Oh, and one last piece of advice, from one hero to another, maybe find a better spot to transform behind the garbage skips. It’s more visible than you think.”

And so she left, Jaime’s jaw slacking before he shook his head, hand darting to scratch the scalp of his head in embarrassment at the advice. Part of him wanted to beg Zara not to tell anyone, to keep his secret to herself, but realising that there was no malice in her tone, just the pure willingness to help the boy, he relaxed.

But only the slightest.

However, a smile broke out on his face once more as he spotted a familiar friend come into view, rushing after a little brown blur of fur.

“Oh, hey, Jaime!”

gif by @rob-pattinson

taglist: @mooncleaver @hoshi4k @mymanjaimereyes @asvterias @tinkerbelle05 @littlekidsteve @allthingsvicf

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What are you hiding?

Characters: Jaime Reyes x GN!reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: (Requested) “x reader that figure out jaime’s blue beetle.” thanks for the reqs, I hope you like it! @tacorei

Warnings: arguments, spoilers for the Blue Beetle movie, thoughts of cheating, reckless behavior

-

Jaime have been off for some weeks now, you’ve noticed. He was always showing up late for date nights and hangouts, he’s always talking to himself, and just looks out of it.

You understood, he's been going through a lot recently. With his house burning to the ground and his father still in the hospital, you allowed him understanding and grace. He has a lot on his plate so he’s allowed to be weird and difficult, and you promised yourself you wouldn’t give him a tough time about it.

He was there by you when your grandpa passed and you were a mess. You still are, at times.

That being said though, you’ve been standing out of a restaurant that he suggested y’all go to for an hour. You kept texting him, asking when he’s going to come, and he keeps saying he’s “almost there” and “around the block”.

Which is a bold face lie, and you hated be lied to. He knew that and he still did it anyway. And it wasn’t even a good one at that.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” Jaime ran up to you, holding a bouquet of crumbled-up flowers. “This for you!” His smile dimmed when he saw the state they were in though.

“Gee, thanks,” you replied dryly and walked off. You were annoyed with him. This was the 3rd time he showed up late, looking disgruntled this week. How could he not even have the decency to look somewhat put together if he’s gonna be this late. It was ridiculous.

While you walked away, you laughed bitterly to yourself, “Really thought you found the one, huh?”

“Wait, wait up!” Jaime yelled and ran after you. He looked like he cared that he was late.

You stopped walking to lean on a building, your legs were aching from all of the standing you’ve did. Jaime finally caught up to you. Your back was to him and thankfully he didn’t try to come closer to you. At least he knew boundaries.

“Listen, I’m so, so sorry. Something came up at work and I had to stay late. Really, I’m sorry. I will make it up to you. We could go back to your place, order food, binge the fast and furious movies?” He rattled off an apology.

You couldn’t see him but you can hear how desperate he was in his voice. He wanted to make it right but you don’t know if he could.

“Jaime, this dinner was supposed to be the apology and make up dinner. You know, for bailing on me last time?” You replied to him and tried to keep the tears at bay. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t cry.

This is when he came closer to you, your back was still to him but You can smell his cologne. And you saw his shadow on the pavement.

“I know, I know,” he whispered softly. “I fucked up but-”

And you turned sharply around to finally face him, “Yes, yes. I know Jaime Reyes is busy at his job. Busy, busy, busy. God, what are you? Batman’s new sidekick or something?”

The outburst made Jaime take a few steps back and held up his hands in a surrender stance,“…What? Um, how…how did you know?!”

You tilted your head, confused by what he meant. “Um, know what Jaime? Are you hiding something from me?” You walked closer to him, backing up into a corner. “Is this why you’ve been distant lately? What’s up?”

He panicked, you saw the sweat dripping on his forehead and watched as he played with his hands. Something was up but he wouldn’t tell you. He probably never will.

“Oh, uh nothing. Don't worry about it,” he stammered.

You back away from him, “Well fine, if you want to be like that then. I think…that we should take a break.”

That got him out of his daze, he instantly closed the gap you made between eachother, “What? No, no, no. We don’t have to…you don’t have to do that. We..we’re fine. I’m just busy but-”

“That’s the point, Jaime,” you interrupted him. “You’re always busy, and that’s fine. But maybe you should focus on your work and y’know not lying to me.”

“I’m not lying!” He protested.

“So why were you all jumpy when I made that Batman joke then?” You asked.

“That? I….I said that was nothing. It…”

You shook your head and started back away again, “For someone who lies a lot, you are horrendously bad at it. Bye, Jaime.”

You ignored Jaime for a week. Every text message and phone call. Eventually though, he stopped trying to contact you. Which was a relief, you felt your resolve slipping everytime Jaime’s photo contact appeared on your phone.

It was one of those 0.5 pictures. You took at as revenge for the hundreds he took of you. You remember him being salty about that photo being his contact.

But in the meantime, you went down a rabbit hole of superhero lore. Jaime’s reaction to your snarky comment got you thinking, could Jaime be one?

Your immediate reaction was hell no. But when you started to mull over it, in a crooked way it sorta made sense. For example, Jaime’s behavior has been strange and he’s been looking disgruntled for a while. He has gotten a new job as an intern for Kord but it wasn’t that demanding. Your cousin had the same job and she wasn’t like well how Jaime was.

I mean, you were worried every time he was late or something. Of course, the obvious is, what if he's cheating on you? However, Jaime was many things but he’s not cheater.

So if he really is the Blue Beetle, well you saw his fights on the internet. They looked rough, and if that's him, then maybe you could help.

And maybe he’s looking all tired and being late to a lot of stuff is because he’s moonlighting as a vigilante. Through some digging you made a time line of sorts.

And…it just scares you. Not knowing.

There were some evidence to support your theory. For example, when Jaime’s house caught on fire, many people said Kord and Blue Beetle (the city’s new superhero) was sighted. Kord and the Blue Beetle were some how connected, you saw articles on that.

And around Blue Beetle’s appearance was when Jaime started acting differently. You know this rationale was being held together with glue and a hope that you could at least know where Jaime is.

But how would you even get him to admit it? If he was Blue Beetle. You walked away from and told you wanted a break, and still didn’t confess to it. And all of his texts messages weren’t alluding that he’s Blue Beetle.

Maybe…no, no, that’s dumb. But could Does it work? You think it can, you hoped it can. The Blue Beetle could fly, so if you jumped off the roof then Jamie would have no choice but to transform.

Or call the cops to retrieve your dead body.

The confidence you had in your room began to slowly chipped away as you climbed to your apartment building's roof. Your legs began to shake and your heart was beating faster than before.

But you guessed that's where the "curiosity killed the cat" quote came from. You called Jaime earlier to meet you at the rooftop to talk, he was clearly confused by the location but considering this was the first time you responded to him in weeks, he didn't reject it.

The warm air was blowing in your face when you finally reached up there, Jaime's back was turned to you.

He turned around to face you, "Hey..." He didn't move to come closer to you, just stood in his place, looking at you with those soft brown eyes.

God, he's so pretty.

And liar.

And probably a superhero.

You will find out today though.

"Hey, Jaime. How have you been?" you asked him, sheepishly.

God, why was this so awkward?

He closes the distance between you two, "Um, yeah I've been good. Could've been better, though. You?"

You scratched the back of your neck, "Yeah, I've been good too. But, um, I wanted to talk to you about something. About us." You stepped even closer to Jaime, lowering your voice to a whisper, "I know your secret, Jaime."

Jaime took a few steps backward, a shocked look on his face, "Uh what secret? What are you talking about? Is…is this shout the superhero thing? I thought you wanted to talk about us?"

"This is about us, Jaime! I know everything, why can't you just admit it already?!" your voice getting louder with each word.

You didn't want it to be like this but fine. You walked past Jaime, walking closer to the railing of the roof. You heard him running after you, panicked "Wait" and "What are you doing?" flew from his mouth.

You turned around to face him, "If you don't tell me the truth right now, I'll jump right now! I know you are Blue Beetle, Jaime."

Your declaration left Jaime speechless, all he could do was close and open his mouth repeatedly. "I...okay just get...get down okay? You're scaring me. I am not Blue Beetle, alright? You're just tired, that's all."

"You're lying to me! You keep lying and I'm sick of it! I'm not stupid or crazy, Jaime. There are too many coincidences for it to not make sense. It's not like I'll tell anyone. I just want to know.”

You could see that Jaime looked conflicted, his eyes kept darting back and forth.

Fine, if he wants it to be difficult, then you can make it difficult. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and fell. You prayed and prayed that Jaime was Blue Beetle because if he wasn't...

You heard Jaime scream your name and leaped after you. You saw with your own very eyes, Jaime transforming, the black and blue suit covered his skin completely, almost like the suit was his second skin.

Now Jaime was flying, with the help of blasters, instead of falling with you. He grabbed a hold of you before you could hit the ground, he held on to you tightly. Like you were grains of sand or sugar, ready to slip through his fingers at any moment without much notice.

He flew you back to the rooftop and sat you on the ground, before crushing you into a bear hug. You could practically feel his heart beating through his chest and could hear him taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You couldn’t blame him, you were in shock too. Your boyfriend (?) was freaking Blue Beetle! I mean you had your suspicions for weeks, and your murder board led you to the conclusion that he was Blue Beetle.

But seeing it before you very eyes was completely different though. You were right! You trusted your gut and you were correct.

But that means that Jaime lied to you. To your face, for weeks. Even when your on the edge of a building, he wouldn’t even admit it!

You pushed him away, glaring up at him and saw him glaring at you with an equally furious expression.

“What is wrong with you?! How could you do something so stupid, so reckless?!” he screamed at you.

His words, though true, offended you nonetheless. And you returned it with the same energy.

“Well, I wouldn't have to do any of that if you would’ve just told me in the first place! But instead, all you did was lie, lie, and lie!” you argued back.

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I was just trying to protect you! This…this life is dangerous, and I…I just wanted to protect you.”

Your anger disappeared when you heard how broken he sounded, saw how distraught he looked. His cheeks were tear-streaked and his eyes were puffy.

“I…I just don't want to lose you,” he admitted.

Seeing him like this, it made your chest hurt. Felt like it was collapsing onto it self. You wanted to hug him, kiss his tears away.

But those feelings didn’t stop the burning anger you feel. God, this was messy. It would’ve been so much easier if he was as angry as you were. You felt like kicking a puppy while it was already down.

“Jaime, being honest is protecting me. How can you not get that? How do you think it feels when you just run off in the middle of our dates? Or when you come late to them, looking frazzled? Or when you just flat out cancel on them last minute with vague explanations as to why. I didn’t know what was going on with you, and that worried me. If you told me you were Blue Beetle, I would have some comfort of knowing where you are. How can you honestly not get that?”

You took a deep breath after letting out that confession. You didn’t exactly mean to say all of that, you would have preferred to have that conversation once you both have calmed down a bit more.

And maybe not on the roof top in the middle of night as well.

Jaime was confused by your confession, “What? So..this wasn’t because you thought I was cheating?”

“Oh Jaime for the love of God, no! I know you, you aren't a cheater. It was because it scared me. I mean, how would you feel if I just disappeared all the time?!” you were back to screaming in his face with just plain annoyance now.

He had a look of understanding now, on his face. He lets out a soft “oh” and then the silence stretched in between you both as he looked everywhere but you.

God, when this become such a mess.

“Um,” Jaime cleared his throat, “So…what do you wanna do? About this? Us?”

“I…I don’t know Jaime,” you muttered. “But it’s getting late and I have work tomorrow.”

Jaime nodded but you could tell that’s not what he wanted to hear, and you didn’t either. But, maybe more space was what you two needed right now.

You watched him shot up into the sky and until he became a small dot, no different from the stars.

-

This was longer than expected. My bad lol

Tags: @fhhahaha12, @allthingsvicf, @louiesdaydream, @herrescasper, @niluuuuu, @666kpopfan, @bluecray0nn, @champagnelovers101, @starii-light, @asvterias, @wintersdeadd, @shslsimpette, @losingmywayyyy, @sodacatz, @scryarchives, @marmar-c, @strawberrycreamb, @nightwingandhissquad, @conicoroahre

Special thanks to @alienstardust for their help with this fic! 🫶🏿

Taglist & Reqs Info & Masterlist & Anonlist

sorry for the lack of updates on "new girl on the block" yall... motivation left the building 😞 on the upside tho, im working on the new chapter right now lol

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!

the way this absolutely breaks my heart is just *chef's kiss*

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (4)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of violence and death. (wc: 4955 )

Neytiri was up early– too early. 

She ran her hands tiredly over her face, her fingernails barely grazing the creases of her skin. Her eyes felt heavy, but it wasn’t tiredness that forced itself to weigh on her lids– it was the dread that continued to settle in; she could hardly make out the sound of the pot blowing out steam, rising in pitch with the soup threatening to boil over. The lid covering the kitchen pan was shaking fiercely, trying desperately to contain itself.

No, who was she kidding? She had lain awake all night, tossing and turning in her hammock. Not a single wink of sleep had been granted to her. 

Neytiri swore her heart cried every time she took a deep breath, gravelly gasping along her. She couldn’t sleep even if she wanted to– not when tuk-tuk quivered in her embrace the whole night; the slightest movement made her flinch and the softest touch made her cry. It was gut-wrenching, the thought that her own child felt no safety in the arms of their mother.

Not my children, eywa. Not them too. 

War had started long before her mate had come, Neytiri couldn’t blame him– but sometimes, late at night when the only sounds that grace her ears are the thoughts running through her head, she dreams of a life away from the wildfire and bullets; a life where she had fulfilled her mother's desires and took Tsu'tey’s hand instead. Every once in a while, the idea pierces her heart as she finds herself tucked in between Jake’s embrace. It felt wrong to think so, like being unfaithful, but not quite.

Tsu’tey was never someone who crossed her thoughts as a person that had gotten away from her, nor had she ever been attracted to him in a romantic way. It would’ve been an union of convenience; for the clan and the people itself. They would be unhappy– unhappy and awfully miserable. With Jake, it was something else entirely; like marriage had more meaning to it rather than a simple alliance. Sure, it was miserable, but they were happy– she was happy. Neytiri could never resent her mate, not when they’ve come so far already.

However, in terms of her children’s well-being, she couldn’t help but think if Jake was the bane of it all– the root of every bad thing that has happened to them. There were no softer words to lay it out, but they deserved better. Her children deserved none of this war. 

She was crying again– crying for them. She let the beads of tears roll down her cheek as she stared afar with not a single coherent thought behind her eyes. 

It was no surprise that Neteyam was already up with the sun rising. He moved quickly, quietly lowering the fire and lifting the lid of the pot with caution— hissing when its hot liquid splashed onto his skin. With a concerned look on his face, he glanced over at his mother who sat an arm’s length away from the very stove; how could she not have heard the loud cackle of her own cooking? He was sure it would’ve caused a wildfire if not for him. 

He slowly moved closer to Neytiri, gingerly reaching out and nudging her with his fingertips. He was mindful not to startle her already tired state. “Sa’nok– sa’nok?” Neteyam called out to her, “Sa’nok, are you okay?” 

Neytiri stirred just slightly, turning her head to view the worried face of her eldest. Her lips thinned involuntarily, a feeling of relief washing over her; her children were here, safe and sound. Nothing will happen to them– not ever.  As long as she lived, they will never be harmed ever again. No demon would take this away from her.

A wave of panic swept over her as she finally realized that she had been cooking before. She quickly turned back to see a billowing cloud of smoke rising from its surface. Neytiri cursed under her breath as her small attempts at fanning away the fog that had settled upon the area were to no avail, finding herself in a fit of coughing. “Why don’t you get y/n?” She requested, voice strained. “She can help with breakfast.” 

With a heavy sigh, Neteyam could only nod, quickly leaving.

Right, y/n– you. When was it never about you? 

Neteyam grumbled as he dragged his feet towards their thatched hut, kicking at every pebble that came across his path with a grunt. It wasn’t you who had woken up early to assist Neytiri nor was the one who had stopped fire from possibly spreading and yet, your name just had to be the first he’d heard today. 

It was you. Always you. 

Neteyam would be a big fat liar if he said it didn’t affect him. He saw you as a parasite – a damn leech that was draining the life out of everyone around him. He couldn't understand why you had to be so selfish and callous; why you were unable to look past Jake’s reprimands when all he desired was your well-being or how you had driven his own mother to such anguish that it became her own undoing. 

You weren’t a kid anymore. On top of that, you weren’t theirs– so why had you always been on top of their priority? Why had you become a chore? 

But never his, oddly enough. You were too good for him and he hated that. 

(Heavy steps thudded behind Jake as Neteyam trailed, his disappointment palpable. He had been unsuccessful in his mission to persuade his father to let him come along on today’s expedition, always quick to dismiss him. He had gone through all the training, but what was the point if he still wouldn't be able to put it into practice? 

Being olo’eyktan one day will never feel rewarding. 

“It’s too dangerous, Neteyam.” Jake grumbled under his breath, eyes never meeting his as he gathered his arrows. “I need you here. Make sure Lo’ak doesn’t follow– do you copy?” 

Neteyam couldn't help but wince when he remembered the time they had failed to be spotters, but it was just that one time– why couldn’t he let it go? It weighed down heavily on his conscience; the mistake that even still, months later, sent shame prickling on every fiber of his being. 

Jake expected a copy in return– a curt yes-sir but Neteyam was silent. He finally urged himself to look up, only to see both his eldest locked in an intense stare, eyes never wavering nor breaking away from one another.

It clicked almost instantly the moment you walked through the flap of the hunt, clutching on the strap of your woven bag that held your own weapons. The war-paint drawn across your face had been the salt on the already deep cut of his– you were coming. Jake had asked you to come and he wasn’t. 

You were looking down at him, Neteyam was sure of it; judging him, and no doubt thinking of how much he had failed himself. His sense of shame deepened as he saw the derision in your expression, feeling more exposed than ever before. He wanted to disappear right then and there, anything to escape this moment that felt like an eternity. 

But you were there. You always were– and you could see straight through him. 

If only he knew how different your mind worked– how you desperately ached for the same concern Jake had for his son. You wanted him to understand the immense longing to be seen in the same light that he was in, to receive even a fraction of his unwavering affection; wanted Jake to care enough that this could be the last hunt he would have with you, that you could get hurt or worse. 

Jake was worried enough to sit his golden-child down; the one with capabilities greater than those warriors years older than him– the one he would make olo’eyktan someday. 

Not you. Never you. 

Neteyam was the first to turn away, a deep rugged grunt leaving his lips as he nodded once. 

“Lima charlie.” ) 

What really messed with his head was that, despite his obvious resentment, he couldn’t actually bring himself to truly despise you the way he felt he should. Every time Neteyam looks at you, he swears he only sees himself– the same child that only yearns for the recognition of a father. There is a reflection of each other in the two of you that binds you nonetheless. 

He wanted to truly look up to you; he wanted what Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk felt when they were with you– to have someone older, to feel as if the weight on his shoulders wasn’t his alone. Neteyam tried, he really did, but as much as you were there, you also weren’t. 

It wasn’t always like this. Your relationship with him wasn’t built entirely on rivalry– he knows he had something more familial with you before, but whatever it was had blurred along age. As much as he wanted to come closer, you were always two steps ahead of him. To you, he will always be olo’eyktan– but never a brother. 

It was a harsh reality– the same hands that cradled him when he was small couldn’t even look at him the same; like he had grown so ugly that you couldn’t recognize him at all. You didn’t even want to fly your ikran with him, nor did you want to train the same time he did. 

He hated you, but not quite– he could never hate his sister. You were more of a stranger now that lived under the same roof as him and it was better than to perceive you as someone rather horrible– but that was what you were. A horrible, horrible stranger. Someone who saved him once from trouble and handed him years of headache in return.

You were a horrible sister. That’s what you are. 

(“Tsmuke, what do I do?” 

You couldn't believe your eyes as you gazed down at the mess on the floor of the hut. Beads were all over, and what used to be a clay tray laid shattered into several pieces. Neteyam stood still in midst of it all— the culprit of such doing evident. Your brain wracked itself to move, to do something.

“This is sa’nok’s favorite necklace. She told me to come get it for her, but the shelf was too high–” Neteyam spoke in a rush, hands gesturing wildly as he talked. His face crumpled in worry and his brow furrowed with frustration.

"’Teyam, don't move!" you said in a hurry, alarmed at the thought of him taking a step forward. Moving quickly to his side, you gently stopped him from doing so and scooped him up under his armpits. He was heavy in your arms as you stood there with him, but the shards beneath were sharp enough to cut skin. You grunted as you moved him aside. 

"Tsmuke, what are we going to do?" He asked again, his voice running high with worry. 

You tried to think of another solution, assessing the situation once more. You glanced at him and said, "I'm going to tell ma I broke it so she won't be mad at you." You quickly search for something sturdy enough to scoop the pieces off the floor. Maybe you can redo the necklace, but there was no salvaging the tray. 

“But I broke it– she’ll know.” He visibly deflates, not exactly thrilled about not being truthful to Neytiri.

“Only if you tell her.” You said, looking up at him with a slight smile, though your heart was racing. You felt terrible knowing that you were going to disappoint Neytiri, especially since her beloved necklace had snapped– but something about your little brother's worry-stricken expression tugged on your heartstrings. You understood why her scolding was necessary, but it felt wrong to leave him alone to bear the brunt of it. “This will be our little lie, okay?” 

“Lie?” 

You immediately dismiss him, gesturing impatiently for him to exit the hut as quickly as possible. “I’ll tell you about it later, but you have to promise now that whatever mom says, just know that I broke it.” 

He only offered a subtle nod in response, his eyes glossed over as he nervously played with his hands.

“Say it, ‘teyam. She’ll be back any minute now!” 

"You broke it!" Neteyam had shouted and almost as if in response, Neytiri had walked in through the hut's entrance, all but gasping as she took in the sight before her– shards of what once held her jewelry now on the floor. She stumbled slightly as she carried the basket of fruits, before dropping it to the ground and quickly scurrying over towards you.

The scolding you got was harsh, but Neytiri couldn't do much other than wrap her arms around you and sigh. You were just a kid, after all. Mistakes like these are inevitable and all she could do was understand. 

Neteyam was patiently waiting just outside the doorway, swinging his legs back and forth as he listened with a heavy heart. He awfully felt guilty. You sat with him moments later.

“Why did you do that?” He quietly asked.

You looked at him with a confused face, “Do what?” 

"Lie." He says, his accent making the word feel awkward in his mouth. It was unfamiliar to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You only say, casually shrugging as you swung your legs along his. Little Neteyam looked at you with the most confused face; eyebrows furrowing and the creases in between deepening as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened. 

But then you glanced at him again– winked and gave a small giggle. 

And only there did he understand. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you, y/n.” )

Neteyam didn’t even realize he had finally reached home. He stared at the flap of the hut, unable to let himself in, despite living here ever since. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having a moment alone with you– not when the thoughts that ran through his head had been unpretty. 

He knows damn well Eywa could strike him down if she heard herself. 

He sighed, “Y/n? Sa’nok asks for you.” He softly said, waiting for a reply. You had never been a deep sleeper; any little noise would bring you right back to consciousness. Every creak from the floor, every whisper and murmur from outside, even the lightest rustling of leaves would startle you wide awake in an instant. Neteyam knew of that, knew of the many sleepless nights you had. You had the habit of scratching the walls of the hut, carving who-knows-what on its surface. It kept him from being able to get any rest himself. 

When only silence greeted him, he finally urged himself to go inside only to be met with an empty space. 

Your absence now felt different to the other times when you had gone for a stroll through the forest or set out to train before dawn. It was not like that this time, and Neteyam felt it deeply. He frantically rummaged through the hut, searching every nook and cranny for anything that you possessed. Nothing. Neteyam stood at the center of the room, taking in the now cluttered room. 

His fingers nervously reached up to the intercom on his ears. A voice crackled over the device, "Sir, is y/n with you? Over." He took a deep breath as he glanced around once more. 

Almost quickly, Jake answered. “No, she should be back at the hut.”

 Neteyam gulped, “She isn’t– nor any of her things are. What do I do?”

“You– you! You let this happen, Jake!” 

After spending hours on scouring the forest for any trace of you, they had finally concluded that you had chosen to leave of your own accord. This was not something that anyone wanted to believe and yet it seemed like the only option left; none of your things were to be seen back at home, or at least those that were valuable to you— your worn-out saddlebag, the wooden bowl that you had carved yourself, weapons. All of it. Soon, eclipse neared and everyone was tired.

Neytiri was quick on her feet. As soon as Jake had returned from the south, she lunged at him – pushing him forcefully with a look he didn’t want to come home to. He attempted to grasp onto both her forearms, wanting desperately to soothe– but, try as he might, she continually knocked away his hands with increasingly greater force. It was like his very touch had burnt her skin; the same hands that held her children. 

“What did you do? What did you say?” Her panicked voice quivered as she asked in desperation. She felt her breath quicken, body absolutely worn out from everything that had happened. Neytiri’s tear-stained face was like a punch to his already battered heart. He had caused this. Jake had finally pushed you away. 

“One thing I asked of you– and this one thing you couldn’t do!” Each word that left her mouth was accompanied by a strike to his chest, not enough to cause any physical pain but enough to emphasize the anger he knew he had been keeping to herself for years. Neytiri was patient with him– understanding. Jake had pushed the limits of what she was capable of doing for him and this was the very consequence.

Shame. Nothing but shame. 

People were watching– warriors that had accompanied him on the search and lingering eyes of the clan, but he couldn’t care less. Jake allowed her to hit him, he let her push him around; it was better for him if she inflicted the pain instead of harboring it. He’d let the people talk for all he cared. He failed as an olo’eyktan and as a father. 

Let everyone know he failed his eldest.

“I did talk to her, please listen to me.” He begged, his pleadings faint. He desperately tried to reach out and grasp Neytiri's arm, yet his hands seemed unable to find the strength to hold her. His voice quivered as he spoke, fragile and hesitant in its delivery.

“Tell me how exactly!” 

And he couldn’t answer that. Not when he made the crucial mistake of not checking the hut beforehand. Maybe if he did, he would’ve known you had run away– maybe he could’ve gotten to you. The fact that you weren’t able to hear his vulnerability was a different heartbreak he refused to acknowledge. You were never there to begin with. 

When Neytiri saw that Jake had nothing to say in response, she was rendered speechless. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she tried to muffle the cry that threatened to escape her throat. She frantically paced around, harshly tugging on her braids. Jake could only close his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat. He stood there, stunned in silence. 

“My daughter, Jake! My daughter is out there with those– those demons scattered! She could be lost– dead! Do you not understand?” 

Dead. You could be dead. Jake refused to close his eyes, hoping he could keep the thought at bay. But it came back again and again, wriggling its way into his mind like a snake. He let his heavy eyelids shut and instantly, he was presented with a vision of you in the dark - his sweet babygirl, lying there lifeless. It would be his fault. The blood would be on his hands.

"Ma, please," Neteyam had spoken, his voice gentle in a bid to soothe his mother. He tried desperately to soften the blows, carefully pulling her away from Jake. It was Neteyam that calmed Neytiri and all he could do was stand and let it happen– what the hell was he doing? How could he fail so miserably? His eldest had to step in and do his job, his pride and joy. 

His gaze drifted across to where his other children were, huddled together on the corner. They looked bewildered at what they were hearing, unsure of what to make of it all. It seized him, squeezing what’s left of its already limp heart. Tuk was nestled in Kiri’s protective embrace, asking her– trying to understand. She asks of you, where have you gone? 

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning and Jake Sully has done the opposite– ushering you to danger. 

“Have we failed them, Jake? Have I been a horrible mother?” Neytiri asked, her voice now barely above a whisper. She tried to be gentle with pushing Neteyam away, attempting to continue nonetheless. Jake placed a firm hand on his son's tense shoulders, and he gave him a subtle tilt of the head. He could see the battle that was raging inside of his young boy's head, between wanting to do what he felt was right and obeying his father's instructions. “Jake what have we done?”

Your mother needs this, his eyes try to tell him, go. Neteyam reluctantly steps back, deciding it was better to return to the others.

“Look for her again. Send out everyone this instant!” She sobs, pounding her fists against Jake’s chest in a desperate attempt to get her point across. Her neck is strained with veins popping out and bulging eyes filled with desperation, pleading him to understand. Each beat of her fists matched the intensity of her wails, no amount of tears ever seeming to be enough. 

Neytiri takes a heavy inhale once more, “I beg of you, Jake Sully. Find our daughter, bring her back home.” 

His gaze finally met hers and the feeling it brought was more than he could bear. He had to make a decision, another choice that would have to let her down again. “We can’t go looking for her now, Neytiri. We are already short on warriors, you know this.” He gently says, as if it was enough to soften the blow– but his eyes saw how her face slowly fell. He could clearly hear the telltale sound of her broken heart, shattering once more.

“I have to ensure everyone’s safety. Warriors are out scouring perimeters and we can’t risk one hold-up. Our family, Neytiri, I cannot risk our family,” 

“She is our daughter!” 

“And I am still olo’eyktan.” He was heartless. He was sure everyone thought so, but he had to be the one to make decisions. His composure was a mask that hid the fact that inside he was breaking apart; that he was failing– that he already had failed. If he let himself break down now, he might as well gamble everyone he loved. 

Jake’s responsibilities weighed down heavily on his shoulders. Everyone was at stake– Quaritch was on the loose. 

Neytiri told him he had a strong heart the moment they had met, but right now, it was stone-cold– shut off and mean. Not the compassionate man she had once saved. “I’m trying, Neytiri. I’ll get her home.” He tries to assure her, but the breathy shudder that left her lips only made him wince. 

He was finally able to wrap his arms around her mate and when he did, it was tight– as if he was trying desperately to piece her back together. He closed his eyes once more, kissing the top of her head. “I promise. She’ll be back, I promise.”

You were out there. Alive. He had a chance. 

Your mama’s crying for you, sweet child, come home. 

“Mawey, Mawey!” 

You found yourself in an unknown area. How you had gotten there, you could not explain. Your ikran, exhausted from the raging storm, needed some respite and so did you for that matter. After all, it would be cruel to deny her this much needed break even if it were just for a night. You only prayed that it’d be peaceful. 

You searched the space for materials needed for fire, but the rain was ruthless and provided no light. You felt a chill as you curled up beneath the shade of the tree. Hugging your knees to your chest you tried to conserve warmth, shivering slightly as a gust of wind blew past. Nothing around you but darkness - no stars, no moonlight, and not even the bioluminescence around provided much warmth. This was it, you thought.

Should I go home instead? Have they even noticed that I’ve gone?

Why couldn't you just stay? Why couldn't you have simply kept it all down inside rather than running away? You had been content enough to stay silent before, content enough to ignore everything; what had been different now? It was home still— who were you kidding?

Thoughts ran unmercifully inside your head as you sat motionless. 

You are never satisfied. 

I miss my mom. 

They deserve the heartache. 

You should’ve listened instead– now look at where you are.

Why couldn’t they love me?

Maybe I should head back. 

Father will be mad.

You wanted this– needed this. You had to prove yourself. There was no use crying over something small, a night had only passed. 

The snapping of leaves and rustling of bushes pulled you abruptly back to reality, your head quickly turning in its direction. You had been lost in thought before the sound startled you; the somber pool of thoughts still eddying in your mind. But there was something else nestled in that pool now, taking up the space– fear. Genuine and terrible, terrible fear. You might never come home ever again. You will never see them again. 

This was it, you thought, something that had been swirling around in the back of your mind since you’ve left now finally felt certain. You gripped your spear tightly in both hands. 

The cry that ripped through the air was deafening, shaking every part of your being. It felt like each syllable ricocheted around your entire body; coursing through your veins and settling in the cavity of your chest. Even the ground seemed to tremble in response, shaking beneath your feet as you tried to keep composure. There was no mistaking it; it was an 'angtsìk— a particularly angry one, at that. 

The loreyu that once surrounded you shriveled in response; coiling up and retracting to the ground, and then was gone completely, leaving you exposed to the hammerhead. 

You were in a desperate situation. It didn't help either that you were unable to make out your surroundings– you were one on one with an 'angtsìk with nothing but a spear and a lousy handgun (that you don’t even know why you brought in the first place. It was small on the palm of your hand, but it was valuable to Jake– this couldn’t damage any animal even if you tried.)

Lifting your bow and arrow and preparing to shoot would be pointless. The threat could be just a moment away; it could pounce on you in the blink of an eye, leaving you as food for its prey before you even have time to process the danger. 

You stood your ground, constantly shifting on your feet as you carefully backed away. You kept your gaze steadily ahead, refusing to break eye contact with the 'angtsìk– but when it roared again in response to your steps, you couldn't help but express your annoyance with a loud kiss of your teeth and an exasperated groan.

You did something that no one in a million years would ever consider or do– you ran straight towards it. 

You stepped forward with your spear raised, shaking it threateningly in front of the strange creature that had been creeping closer. Your movements were frenzied, a frenetic attempt to scare it off and make it retreat back to where it had come from. You could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage as you readied yourself for whatever would come next. All around you, an eerie silence had descended upon the dank forest that seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation– watching both of you. 

As it was poised to launch a counterattack, the creature suddenly halted; its gaze directed toward something past you with an expression of sheer terror, but your mind was too clouded for you to take any hint of the bigger threat skulking just behind you. You could feel the nervousness bubbling up from your chest, but before you knew it, a confident chuckle had escaped your lips that soon turned into fits of laughter, not believing how that foolish move of yours had made the 'angtsìk retreat.

“Yeah? Yeah! That’s right– you better run!”  You yelled, brandishing the spear in your hands and waving it around in triumph. “Get your punk-ass back to mommy, penis-face!” 

As the 'angtsìk disappeared into the distance, you allowed a sigh of relief to escape your lips. "You're not getting any of this, keep running!" You called out after it mockingly, putting your hands on your hips. In spite of this bravado, your heart was pounding and your knees were weak with fear– you were this close to give Eywa an early visit. 

You slowly turned back, that’s when you finally saw it; the force with which the thicket of bushes violently parted around it, the palulukan emerging from behind. It was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and a chill ran through your body as a wave of fear engulfed you. Every part of you tensed up, and you could feel your soul being wrenched from within.

You looked at it like a poor deer in headlights, grip momentarily loosening around your spear.

 If death knocked tonight, let it be instant.

NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT ?? ???? finally, after a month! (i am gonna be honest, i am this close to loosing interest in avatar.. jesus. i am holding onto crumbs people) this is so long overdue, but i hope it's good enough!

put so many references here, hope ppl can tell! teehee

not thoroughly edited so please feel free to point of any mistakes! thank you so much for being patient with me, until the next chapter loves! smooch &lt;;3

(i removed tags that didn't work anymore :/ again, i am not taking anymore tags! please leave your notif on instead) tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom @starjane312 @mona-aiko @audigay

Jaime being the best boyfriend headcanons

Characters: Jaime Reyes x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Jaime being an absolute gentleman.

Warning: none :)

Jaime is always opening the door for you. No matter where or when, he’s walking in front to open the door. He also pulls out any chair that you are gonna sit in.

He does that thing where he “guides” with his hand on your lower back or waist while y’all are walking. He walks on the side of the street where the cars are driving, in case something were to happen.

When it’s colder than what you expected, Jaime puts his coat or jacket over you without you having to ask. All you have to do is rub your hands together for warmth or shiver slightly.

He lets you to pull him in every and all directions by holding his hand. And when your using the escalator or the stairs, in a light color skirt or shorts, he stands behind you.

While shopping for make up, he lets you use his hand for swatch testing when you run out of space on both hands.

He’s always wearing an hair tie on his wrist in case yours get lost or pops. It’s happened too many times and Jaime’s always there to save the day.

You don’t gotta pay for shit either. I mean, you offer to pay but Jaime shuts you down every time.

“Nah, I got it. Put your wallet away,” he tells you.

He’s handing the waiter his card before you can even react.

He buys you flowers every Sunday afternoon. Sometimes they are delivered because he couldn’t make it but he prefers to hand them to you.

You’ve gotten use to them but you still have that bright smile on your face when you seem them.

Tags: @marmar-c, @wintersdeadd, @fhhahaha12, @allthingsvicf, @niluuuuu, @starii-light, @louiesdaydream, @herrescaper, @scryarchives, @666kpopfan, @sodacatz, @bluecray0nn, @strawberrycreamb, @conicoroahre, @losingmywayyyy, @nightwingandhissquad, @asvterias, @shslsimpette, @alexa-33, @dcnerd98, @xiaryye

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love ur art sam :3

THANK YOU SO MUCH RAINN <333 I LOVE YOU MOOTIE!! <33 /p

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.

The Gold Scarab

Jenny Kord x Male Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

How does one even begin to explain where you’ve been for the last two years? For you, Y/N L/N, proud cousin of Jamie Reyes, you were fighting crime with your girlfriend Jenny Kord.

Jamie had yet to graduate from Gotham Law while you were off playing superhero. Jenny worked as your gal in the chair, helping out you and the Scarab with support.

It was fun, no real qualms since the scarab could heal your wounds. Khaji G, as you found out, is a very reliable armor and friend.

You found yourself relaxing on the top of the Daily Planet, just shooting the breeze with the AI embedded in your back.

“So tomorrow we’re heading back to Palmera City.” You sigh.

“Jamie returning home?” Khaji asks in her robotic tone.

“Yep.” You answer, “it’s good cover for us to head back and investigate Kord Industries”

“Jenny doesn’t know?”

“She’d worry if we were helping her investigate her aunt. Something about you and the power blah blah blah”

“You love her so you’re going to disobey her?”

“It’s called reading between the lines, Khaji. Or something like that.”

The two of you powered up and took off into the night sky, heading to Palmera City.

Seeing your tios, tias and abuelita and the cousins you practically call your hermano and hermana.

Speaking of which, you were the first to welcome Jamie when he stepped off the plane.

“Jamie!” You hugged him tightly. He hugged you right back.

“Y/N good seeing you cuz”

What you didn’t see or feel was that Khaji was scanning Jamie and sending a signal to the very scarab that Jenny was trying to save.

“Potential scarab host acquired” The blue scarab sent in response.

“The two men of the hour” your uncle Rudy laughs as he sees you and Jamie walking to the rest of the family.

You spent the next few months going back and forth between Palmera City and your duty as the Gold Scarab.

Using your job as a hero for hire, you were able to send some money to the Reyes clan, helping them to keep the lights on at their homestead.

And then came the Blue Beetle. Your Khaji G just had to send Jamie as a potential host for Khaji D, the Blue Scarab.

You tried to intercept the scarab from Jenny. “What?! I told you to stay out of Palmera City!” Jenny practically screamed at you as you saved her from her hotel room that fateful night.

“And let those goons hurt you?!” You almost screamed back. “Where’s the Blue Scarab?”

“I gave it to Jamie,” Jenny explains.

“Wait what?”

Boom! a blue blur zooms past you and Jenny.

“Blue scarab spotted. Host: Jamie Reyes”

“What?! How?!” You ask.

“He seemed like a good host. Recommend.”

Oh great. How’s this gonna play out? You find yourself wondering.

“Recommendation: train him”

“Train him?”

“Train who?” Jenny looks at you in confusion.

“You’re gonna love this,” you try to explain.

Whatever the future may hold. For you. For Jamie. For Jenny. For the Khaji programs. You’ll stand together. Family is forever after all.