Since Im Just Finalising Part 8 Of New Girl On The Block, Here’s A Little Snippet And Doodles Of Jaime

THE WAY MY FRIENDS SIDE-EYED ME AS I HAD MY MINI BLUSH-FEST

Jaime Reyes: “Come to papa!”

Me, watching in the theater:

MY BOY IS OLDER THAN ME?!?!??!?

ITADORI YŪJI ✩ BORN 2003 MARCH 20

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

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

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.

NOOO NO WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. MY HEART'S BREAKING.

@chad-enigma i couldn’t stop thinking about it so i made it with low quality clips, ill definitely remake it when the movie comes out in hd 😭🫂

@tinkerbelle05 @george-fabian-weasley @alienstardust @asvterias @littlekidsteve @mooncleaver @dindjarindiaries

REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.

Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.

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 glanced 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

Hello (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) Can I request Itadori, Geto, and Gojo getting "cuteness aggression" over their girlfriends? Like they want to bite her cheeks, pet her hair, suffocate her with cuddles, shower her with kisses, etc.! Thank you so so much, have a wonderful day/night! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

JJK MEN + CUTENESS AGGRESSION ˚✿˖

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuuji x fem!reader

warnings. none, just them being lovesick for you tbh :>

note. hi anon, i'm so sorry for the super late update for your request :( i hope you like it! <33 i'm gonna be continuing the 1k milestone in a bit, just a few more requests 😸

GOJO SATORU. gojo has this habit of nipping on your flesh, then sucking on them gently every time he looks at you — once, he made a bruise (a hickey) on your cheek. the male will not hide the fact that he's so in love with you, he just wants to put you in his pocket and takes care of you.

"baby, you're so cute, i can't help it," he gushes out, fondling your cheeks with his big hands before peppering your face with wet kisses.

with every kiss he plants, he sounds out a loud, "mwah!"

"'toru, stop that," you always try to tell him despite the big smile on your face — along with the soft giggle that escaped your throat every once in a while.

gojo just couldn't help it. something in him, just tells him that he should touch you. the giddy feeling he gets when he sees you just sitting, doing nothing. he always makes his way to you in a flash, just to either hug you tightly, squish your cheeks, even take a nip or two on your flesh.

"'toru, give me one reason why you're chomping my shoulder right now?" the male unhinged his teeth from your clothed shoulder and blinked innocently.

"'cause you're cute. give me a kiss," he then puckered out his lips slightly, swooping down to steal a kiss from your lips, "mmm, more," he spoke to himself — planting his lips to yours multiple more times.

gojo just can't help it, every time he comes over to visit you, or to pick you up for a date. he doesn't care no matter what make up or skin care you have latched on your face, he will nip on your flesh any time he gets to do it (every time).

GETO SUGURU. different than gojo, i feel like he will be more discreet about it in public. his fingers would gently squeeze your plump thighs, or your hips. but when you're both all alone — he will squeeze your cheeks, give you head pats, and just gush over his girlfriend.

"sugu, no more, my hair's a mess," you shooed his hand away from your head before patting down on the disheveled strands.

"'ts okay, you still look pretty," he gently grabbed your hand and put it down, and there his hand went. on your head, patting your hair here and there.

geto has this small habit of just — biting down on your finger when he holds your hand, your index, your thumb, your pinky. he just does it, out of the blue, and when you ask what he's doing, he just spews out about how cute and small your fingers are compared to his.

"sugu, no bite."

"baby, your finger is so small and cute," he chuckled, biting down gently onto your pinky.

"'ts not. it's normal — your fingers are too big," you reply back, pulling your finger out from being sandwiched by his teeth.

no matter how many times you tell him to stop, he does it again and again. and you just let him do whatever he wants.

ITADORI YUUJI. like gojo, he doesn't really care where he is or who's watching — even when he's talking with his friends or even gojo himself. yuuji's hand will find a way to pinch your cheeks, his eyes not even sparring at you. but his hands just maneuvers over to your skin.

like a stress ball. except, yuuji does it gently.

when he sees you, he becomes this extremely happy boy. hugging you tightly and just peppering kisses all over your face, his hands cupping both sides of your cheeks as he does that.

"my pretty girl," he kisses you on the tip of your nose, moving on to your cheeks and then your forehead, before eventually to your lips.

yuuji gets so giddy when he sees you wearing either lip gloss or lip stick, he turns into this fanboy and can't help but to give you a kiss or two on the lips — smearing his own with shades of red, pink, or glossy oil.

"is this a new shade, baby?" he asks, pointing at his lips — which had tints of dark pink.

you nodded, "it looks good on you."

"it looks better on you," he planted another kiss on your lips, "pretty," he glees out, biting your chin gently.

when he sees you in a new make up or outfit, he just gets so giddy at how adorable you look. he just has to praise you, hug you, kiss you, anything really as long as it's you.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟎

emotions and texting shenanigans, jaime wasn't ready for that emotional rollercoaster.

masterlist | previous , next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

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

– author’s note: it felt so weird writing out casual texts and comments on insta, lol. disclaimer: i’m not of Hispanic or Aztec descent and used a translator for certain terms, so do correct me if im wrong!

translations: eres tan estúpido - you're so stupid

The day suddenly felt so slow. Lying on his bed, Jaime muttered in annoyance, his phone in his hand as the sunlight shone into his face through the thin material of his curtains. He lay flat on his back, the hand with the phone in hand resting on his stomach as his other arm supported his neck against his pillow.

Staring at the ceiling emptily, he glanced to his right and his eyes landed on his open laptop, the male huffing with a grumble as he rolled onto his side, back facing the computer.

Turning his phone on, Jaime’s fingers automatically clicked on the little Instagram icon, waiting for a brief second before images appeared on his feed. There he lay in silence, thumb scrolling mindlessly up and down, occasionally laughing silently at a meme post or two.

Then his eyes widened the slightest, spotting a fairly new username from his following that appeared on his notification bar, alerting him of their newest post.

alejan-drea✰ (@dreas.world) posted a new image! 2 mins ago…

Curious to see what she was up to, he clicked on the notification and the app took him to a new page, her latest post appearing within the second. Unconsciously, a soft smile rested on his features, his deep brown eyes meeting the light brown of hers in her image.

In her arms was the stray he’d seen the past few days, and recalling what Milli told him, his neighbour adopted the little dog, taking the utmost care of it and getting the pet the immunity jabs and medicines required for its safety. 

Instead of her usual attire of jeans and her off-shoulder shirt, she wore a slightly baggy tee, tucked into black, ripped-denim shorts. Her usually messy dark waves still had the one to two stray braids, but were all together bunched up in a messy ponytail.

The morning’s light reflected off of her tan skin, giving her a soft look as her dog – Sparky, he faintly recalled from his sister – excitedly licked her cheek. Drea’s smile reflected the same glow of joy, even though she was being licked rather viciously. 

Swiping left, Jaime spotted the caption as a video began to play, seeing the dog wiggle impatiently in her arms, tail wagging at a ferocious speed as the onslaught of licks hadn’t stopped once.

dreas.world out bathing the baby, got a saliva shower instead ://

Despite the ridiculous angle, and the 0.5x zoom of the photo taken, he considered this post one of her better ones, ultimately deciding himself that the setting suited her better, bringing out her best features. He double-tapped her post, a little red heart popping up before vanishing almost immediately. 

His thumbs hovered over the comment section, and spotting Milagro’s comment, he rolled his eyes to himself.

mili_reyes_best gurl, go bathe. please. dreas.world @mili_reyes_best not until hes squeaky clean 🙃

Jaime scoffed, his thumbs hovering over the comment bar. Half-tempted to reply to the conversation, he decided against it, leaving the two to their shenanigans. However, he did end up posting his own comment, his finger quickly tapping the little paper plane icon.

officially._jaime literally the cutest being to exist 🤟

As soon as the text of his comment turned opaque, slight regret washed over him as he re-read his remark, a blush flushing over his cheeks as soon as he realised the two ways his comment could be taken, eyes widening in panic.

“Shit–” He hissed softly, rushing to tap the three dots that would allow him to delete his comment.

Before he could click it, the notification bar popped up again, this time, announcing his neighbour’s response to the comment.

dreas.world @officially._jaime you wont believe how happy sparky was after i told him that 

Letting out a deep sigh, the smile slowly returned, and he clicked on the little bar again, instantly thinking of a reply.

officially._jaime @dreas.world bring him over sometime, we’ll absolutely spoil him 😈

With that, he clicked on Drea’s profile, eyeing the little ‘message’ button beneath her little mutual follow list. 

“What the heck,” He muttered, finding himself with a private conversation set up between them, ignoring the fact that even though he already did have her number, he was simply too lazy to open up his messages. 

Besides, she was already online on Insta, the little green dot by her name told him so.

Nerves built up in his stomach, and if he was being honest, his hands fiddled with the cover of his phone nervously. What would he even say? What was there to talk about at all? They’ve shared all their secrets, everything, to each other and that was that.

“But we’re friends,” His mind argued. “Think! Think of something friends would talk about!”

Without thinking twice, his hands moved on their own, and he found himself sending the message once more without even realising what he’d done.

so hows the weather today??

Silence filled his mind, his stare going blank as he let out a loud groan of annoyance, hands darting up to pull at the roots of his hair as the phone landed unceremoniously on his bed.

“¡Jaime, eres tan estúpido!” He hissed at himself, dragging his hands over his face. “No, no. Just… just leave it. Let’s just die of shame.”

Ignoring the hums of protest regarding his perfect health condition from Khaji-Da, Jaime sat upright, staring down disdainfully at the text he sent his friend. Who the hell started a conversation like that? 

Just then, the little ‘ding’ of his phone went off, and his eyes widened, spotting a text in reply.

is bearable lol. arent we in the same neighbourhood lmao

With that, he was back on his phone in an instant, relief flooding over him as he revelled at the fact that he did not, in fact, present himself as socially awkward. At least not online.

i mean yea, but u never know 🤷‍♂️

He watched nervously as the three little dots appeared at the bottom of his screen, dancing up and down tauntingly, and what was a few seconds, felt like almost fifteen minutes.

bro just say u wanna come over lmao, sparky wants to meet u anyways

gif by @rob-pattinson

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

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

welp, i have successfully etched off 4 hours of my life just doing these canon and oc doodles. hope you guys like this :)

(i dont specifically have a taglist for my art yet, but yall lmk if i should have one)