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#they are the bug found family ever
sunnyaliceart · 3 months
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Team Snakemouth
Various bug sketches of the best bug adventure team. I really love these bugs!
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uncanny-tranny · 3 months
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There's something so insane to me about being able to create and recreate vintage or even ancient music, clothes, fabrics, building architecture, anything, really.
I watched this video about a lady who knit a WWII-era vest, and it was really unique, because the cable work would eat up yarn, when there were shortages of fibers. This pattern would have likely been used by people to send overseas to soldiers, and now it's being created in a time where this war has been over for generations. What were the people making this pattern thinking of? What about the people making the vest? Could they fathom a world where world wars didn't happen back to back? Could they imagine what peace felt like, or did it fade like a distant memory, a faint friend? All we have now are the remnants of their efforts, a "simple" vest that would warm the bodies of countless people the knitter would never have imagined were here on earth with them.
We're reaching across time to learn about other people - we're reaching our hands out just to grasp anything tangible. And when we've take hold of something, all we can do is say I love you I love you I love you
#positivity#art#i also come across this absolutely stunning woman who collects vintage pieces from the '50s and it's just. it's mind boggling#or how we've found ancient sheet music and have recreated its contents#do you ever think about how we're time travelers#do you ever think about what might be recreated of us in the future#this isn't about nostalgia baiting but about how we learn and process the ways that people in the past lived#you don't have to feel nostalgic for WWII to be intrigued by this (it would be very concerning if one WAS nostalgic for WWII)#i just. i die a little inside because i know i will never know everything...#...i will never know every lottle thing about people in the past especially...#...and i am never completely satisfied because only a very selective amount of things are preserved and remembered...#...i wonder then what 'forgotten' people thought and felt and how they lived...#...especially as individuals or as a small clan of family and friends. i want to know them intomately - as if i myself have become emeshed..#...does this make sense. i don't just want to know about nobles and kings and the wealthy...#...i want to know what the lacemaker for a king felt making lace for the royals...#...i want to know what the rice field worker thought about when the fields were flooded and they swatted a bug away from their skin...#...i want to know what a mother of a small child thought when churning butter - her baby cooing and making a mess...#...and it sucks sometimes to know that we're time travelers but in a very narrow sense. but i still love what we have got...#...don't get me wrong i love it. but i still grieve that we have lost a lot of history - a lot of people...#...or maybe we have only lost them in the sense that we just haven't located and found them *yet*#anyway i've watched that video multiple times now and i just go absolutely animalistic thinking about it#all of this is complex and i have Plenty of thoughts about that. but at least to me this is what i've seen a lot - a lot of love#and isn't studying this - recreating it and analyzing it - isn't that a form of love?#am i... a nosy person..........
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aj-awayj · 7 months
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Hello there people in the void of Tumblr, something epic is coming to Tumblr and soon YouTube. It’s called Bugged Out! It’s greenfly a short film and will eventually a comic so if y’all could give the blog a follow that would be great!
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various updates and facts about my family
my mother huffed raid bug spray and ate wallpaper paste as a child. my grandfather believes my autistic sibling is an alien and is asking him to provide the winning lottery numbers. my sister tried to kill her boyfriend recently.
My dad is getting married to his seventh wife.
And my little brother (J) is smelting pawn shop jewelry in efforts to make silver bullets to load in .22 casings
My grandfather swears he was abducted by aliens and they modified his cum.
In 2009, he attempted to trade firearms for an alleged crystal skull which he believed contained the blueprints to rebuild Atlantis.
In 2012, my family created a convey of six cars all loaded with guns, ammo, canned food, etc. in order to prepare for the apocalypse. In December of 2012, my grandfather led us to where he believed our family would hold off the forces of evil, a last bastion for our bloodline- A fucking Super8 motel in Forsyth GA.
My mother used to drink blood in the 90s and beat the shit out of football players as a hobby, so she could beef up for roller derby. She raises baby animals, and has more than once attempted to kill a man during intimacy.
All if my dad's ex wives have tried to kill him. He's had attack dogs sicced on him, beaten with a crowbar, chased with a hammer, run over with his own car, and pushed out a vehicle. His new wife was a pen pal he met when she was in jail.
My aunt believes she convenes with the angels when she's hopped up on ambien and percocet, so she's like the goth version of Mama Murphy from Fallout 4.
I was conceived in a crack den in North Carolina. My mother's organs don't like having kids, so much so that both me and my sibling (J) were born dead and had to be resuscitated. In both cases it was due to the umbilical cord playing a game of Hangman.
My little brother (J) taught Igor, our Vulture, to vomit on command. Nobody knows how.
He has been using the infestation of rats at my family's cabin to do... something. He's been running a rat cannibalism fight club, in an attempt to fish out a Super Rat which he plans to do... Something with?
My little brother (M) spends his spare time firing at passing cars. We have managed to make sure he's using BB guns, is the compromise. (J) went through a similar phase when he was an early teen, and would shoot a bow and arrow at the neighbor's house. I did the same with a potato cannon in my youth. It's a tradition.
My dad is missing his appendix. He has no idea where it went and has no record of it ever being removed.
My grandmother reluctantly admitted to having an affair with a ghost in her 40s.
My brother (M) used to love botany. By the age of 6 he could tell you anything you wanted to know about the flora of southeast GA. He had a garden. And he also grew weed for my step-dad until my mom found out. After that he was banned from gardening and picked up junior robotics as a hobby after i gave him K'nex and some Lego Mindstorms stuff years ago. He took apart an air conditioner in a motel once. To this day we don't know what he did with the screws. He builds airsoft guns from scrap and is a mechanical prodigy. He is almost illiterate.
My brother (A) disturbs me. He was raised by the internet and YouTube. He is whatever this new generation is personified. He's frighteningly... Normal.
I am waiting for the shoe to drop and for him to reveal some darkness to him never before seen in my family.
He's just. A normal kid. A little zoomer that watches Mr. Beast and YouTube long plays. He's also the straight man to most of all my family's bullshit. He's dangerously genre savvy. He also has a weird interest in law???
My sister (H) is your average country girl. She's attempted to kill more than one of her boyfriends (will clarify that they were abusive), has totaled three cars and always walks away from these nightmarish accidents unscathed. She was found on the side of the road last year hitting her vape and flagging down a car, while her own was stuck five feet above a ditch in a tree.
She has a job and plans to go to New York to "see what them city twinks got goin' on"
My other little sister (C) is the only other queer member of my sibling roster. She's a lesbian, and enjoys shooting things. Sometimes living things. She, like (A), is dangerously genre savvy and doesn't play into my family's religious fanaticism. She wants to be a firefighter because she is also a pyromaniac and wants an excuse to see "big things burn".
A bit more about (J)- He claims to speak to the dead, and has used this to become my grandfather's right hand man, and the beneficiary of his estate. He is an autodidact, self taught with blacksmithing and metalworking. He dresses well, and also has a hidden laboratory in my grandfather's shed where he has taken a fixation in herbal tinctures and remedies. He knows they're bullshit. But my family buys his potions, and he uses the money to buy pawn shop jewelry and scrap metal to build stuff. He believes firmly in werewolves, and is convinced Furries are a psyop to prepare the general public for their emergence in society. Which is why he's making silver bullets.
I wish to stipulate that not a single word of this is a joke. This is on god, IRL bullshit I have to contend with.
I should probably update this to remove real names what the fuck
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st7rnioioss · 28 days
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౨ৎ when are you gonna marry mommy?
dad!chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: fluff, kissing, not proofread!
a/n: finally a dad fic. I LOVED WRITING THIS, DAD!CHRIS IS MAKING ME GIGGLE TO MYSELF.
౨ৎ
You were currently sitting on the beach with your family, Chris and Connor. The sun was shining and it was melting hot outside, so your son had begged you both to go to the beach, which you had agreed to. It was the perfect way to spend the weekend with your family. 
“Daddy, look!” your son, Connor, yelled to show Chris something he had found between the sand. Chris turned his head from you to look at him, a few feet away from you. Connor tumbles from the sand with a funny-looking stone between his chubby but cute fingers.
“Oh, that’s awesome, bud! We should name it Pebbles,” Chris laughed loudly, turning to look at you as if it was the funniest thing known to mankind. 
Connor found it hilarious, understanding the joke even though he wasn’t more than five years old. Chris threw his arms around him, picking him up to sit on his lap, both admiring the stone Connor had found while giggling.
“That’s my kid, awesome find, buddy,” Chris beamed, high-fiving Connor making us all chuckle.
“Mommy, can we go into the water? I’m really hot,” Connor squinted due to the sun, tapping your shoulder gently. It was a habit he had picked up from Chris, tapping your shoulder after asking a question.
“Yeah, of course, baby,” you smile, Connor immediately taking your hand to drag you to the water. As you stood up to follow your kid, Chris made sure to whisper a quick ‘I thought that was my nickname?’, making you roll your eyes at him with a smile. Connor then tugged a little harder on your arm, making you practically run after him,
“Hey, careful Connor, it’s deep out there!” you yelled after him, Chris taking it a little slower to admire the both of you. 
Chris was always talking about how much he loved the two of you. The thought of being able to start a family with you alone was making him all giddy, but actually living in it was something else. Ever since he found out about your pregnancy he was always rubbing your belly, competing with you about whether it was a boy or girl - but of course he was right. After what felt like a few weeks you gave birth to the cutest baby boy. Chris’s first words to him was ‘Yes! Hello, Chris Junior,’.
“Daddy, you’re the rotten egg!” Connor yelled, following with a childlike giggle. You were in the water, holding Connor on your hips since it was far too deep for him to reach the sand beneath you.
“What! No one told me it was a competition!” Chris faked a groan, making his way in the water to the two of you.
“Loser!” Connor laughed again, making Chris’s jaw drop when he reached out to you.
“What did you just call me?” he laughed, making Connor squeal and attempt to hide himself in your neck. You both laughed at him, giving Chris a loving smile which he returned.
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“Mommy, can I get the fries please?” Connor attempted to whisper, tugging on the end of your skirt. You looked down at him in his far too short chair, running a hand through his damp hair.
“Of course, bug. With ketchup?” you whisper back, a little louder to match his tone. He nodded frantically with a big cheesy smile, pulling you in for a hug with his small arms, making you lean down to hold his head, planting a kiss to the top of his head.
“What are you two being so secretive about?” Chris chuckled, raising his brows at Connor. He knew exactly what you were talking about, due to Connors inability to whisper properly.
“Mommy allowed me to get fries!” Connor answered, sticking his tongue out to tease Chris. He faked a gasp, acting as if he was hurt making you lean back in the chair with a laugh.
“No, you have to share! Mommy didn’t let me get any!” Chris tried to act frustrated, enjoying the childish laugh Connor had.
“Nuh-uh!” Connor shook his head with a loud giggle. Chris leaned back in his chair, looking intensely at his kid. You looked at the both of them, enjoying the show Chris put on for him.
“Fine. I’ll just get a Pepsi then..” he fake-huffed, erupting a smug laugh from Connor, as if he had just won some sort of battle with Chris.
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The night was close to an end. Filling the entire day at the beach, eating dinner by the water, and now all slumped on the couch seemed like a well-spent day.
Spongebob was playing on the TV, which Chris seemed to enjoy a little too much for his age. Such a big goof trapped in a grown man's body. Connor was resting in Chris’s side, almost asleep as the show went on.
Chris and you were laying on each side of Connor, one of Chris’s arms reaching your shoulder, all of you lying close to each other.
“I love you, both mommy and daddy. I had a lot of fun,” Connor mumbled, making you look over at Chris with a big smile. He was practically on the verge of tears.
“Hey, me too buddy. Did you bring the rock home?” Chris whispered, trying not to be too loud to make Connor fully awake again. You look down at him with a smile, caressing the top of his head gently.
“Mhm… It’s in mommy's purse,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into Chris’s shirt. About a second later a quiet snore could be heard from Connors slightly parted mouth, signaling it was time to go to bed.
You look up at Chris who was already looking at you with a goofy smile.
“What’s up, baby?” you giggle quietly, caressing Chris’s cheek with your knuckles. He gently leans over to reach you without moving Connor, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
“God, I love you so much,” he snickers, letting his hand that was resting behind your shoulder grab your cheek to pull you closer for another kiss.
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Chris had carried Connor to his bed, trying his best not to wake him up before placing him in his bed.
“Daddy..?” Connor mumbled, rubbing his eyes before looking up at Chris, grabbing his arms to pull him closer.
“Shh, go to bed, kid.” Chris whispers, running a hand through Connors hair, getting down on his knees to be face to face with him.
“When are you gonna marry mommy? I saw you kissing on the couch,” he mumbled, running a finger over Chris’s small stubble on his cheek. Chris got a little flustered from his simple question, unsure what to answer him.
“What do you mean?” Chris whispered back, not wanting you to listen into this. He had recently thought about proposing to you, but he had spent so much time with you and Connor he had completely forgotten about it.
“You and mommy don't wear the same rings on the same finger. Can’t you get married? Like the families in the books in kindergarten,” he slurred his words, growing more and more tired. Chris chuckled a little before answering him.
“Y’think I should propose to mommy?” he smiled, kissing Connors cheeks as he slowly stood up beside his bed, Connor immediately grabbing Chris’s index finger.
“Yup… She loves you very much.” Connor mumbled as his grip on his finger loosened, dropping completely as he drifted off to sleep again.
Chris almost didn’t believe he took advice from a 5 year old, but he made sure to get back to look at rings.
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a/n: im giggly and shit. how do we feel about the layout?
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt@gwenloremain@k-l-a-w-s
go to my taglist to be added!
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reminiscingtonight · 2 months
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The Thing About Families (Arsenal Style)
Alessia Russo & Russo!reader (Lia Wälti x Russo!reader)
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: A Russo sisters + Lia ft. Kyra story that wrote itself after that picture came out
And The Things You'd Do (Part Two) // That's How You Know It's Home (Part Three)
[WOSO Masterlist]
“I need your help.”
Growing up as the oldest kid in the family meant you’ve heard this line quite a lot. For your brothers it usually meant helping them sneak out of the house or cover for them as they did god knows what, but for Alessia it usually meant one of two things: organize her laundry or organize her life.
Given that you’ve done all the washing and have neatly stacked her already folded clothes on the edge of her bed, you have a sinking suspicion that this ask has more to do with the latter.
“Rat. What’s up?”
Alessia frowns at the nickname, an insult perched at the end of her tongue. But she seems to think better of it, batting her eyelashes in hopes of seeming more innocent as she latches onto your arm. 
You’re not amused, instantly trying, but failing, to shake her off. “Less, let go!”
“I need your help,” she whines again, digging her heels into the ground. 
You try wrapping your arm around her neck to pull her into a headlock, but the height difference between the two of you means Alessia has no trouble heaving you over her shoulder and onto the couch behind her. You let out a disgruntled yelp, trying to wrestle her for dominance. Alessia simply sits on top of you, hands locking your arms across your own body. 
“Alessia Russo I swear to god, get off!”
“Your baby sister is trying to ask for a favor! Will you just,” she huffs, pinching your side when you try to buck her off of you, “calm down! Just hear me out!”
“I’m kicking you out before Lia gets home. Off!”
How your mom talked you into housing your sister when she moved to Arsenal, you will never know. Lia jumped at the opportunity to help her out, but since she isn’t home right now…
Alessia cringes a bit at your girlfriend’s name and you instantly stop moving. Your eyes narrow dangerously. “What?”
Family is important to you. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Alessia, but there’s also nothing you wouldn’t do for Lia too. You haven’t ever had to make a choice between the two of them, but if you’re going to have to you’re not sure if sisterly love will be enough against how much you love Lia.
“If you don’t tell me what your problem is I will actually kick you out. Talk.”
It only takes two seconds under your glare for Alessia to break. “Kyra won’t stop bugging me!” 
For a second you’re taken back to your childhood, a tiny Alessia sat in your lap, saying the same exact thing about Gio. You had given her a comforting pat on the head and then socked Gio as hard as you could in the arm. But now that you’re in your thirties, you don’t think punching Kyra would be taken as well, by your girlfriend or the other Aussies on the team.
“That sounds like a you problem.” 
And Kyra’s hilarious, you’ll give her that. The younger girl had instantly taken a liking to your sister since the day she arrived. And by liking of course you mean a liking to bothering Alessia. 
But as long as the young Australian keeps bothering Alessia and not you, you don’t really see a problem with her behavior.
Call it karma for everything Alessia has put you through growing up.
“And I love Lia, you know that.”
Your lips pinch into a thin line. “I don’t think I’m liking where this is going. If you’re about to be rude about my girlfriend--”
“Lia needs to stop babying Kyra! Sometimes I just need some peace and quiet at the Colney, and I can’t do that if Kyra keeps bothering me and Lia keeps letting her get away with it!”
Right. That.
It’s not like you haven’t missed it. 
Any time Kyra’s running wild your girlfriend can be found nearby, always quick to soothe any ruffled feathers from the Australian’s adventures. At first Steph was set on Kyra duties, but when it became clear that anyone outside of her chosen Australian/Swedish family were ill-equipped to handle her, Lia was quick to step in. 
You’re not sure what it was that drew Kyra to your girlfriend but Kyra lived for the praise and affection Lia gave her and Lia lived for the adoration from Kyra.
So yeah, it’s cute the way Lia has taken the young girl under her wing. If anything it just makes you want to ask her to marry you and start a family faster.
“Don’t be jealous, rat. If you want Lia to baby you again you can just say so.”
Alessia’s too busy scoffing and objecting to your claim that she’s not expecting it when you dump her off of you and right onto the ground.
---
It only takes a week.
It starts when Lia cancels date night. Kyra’s feeling a bit homesick so Lia invites her for a movie marathon at your place. Of course you’re a little bummed, but it’s not something you can’t reschedule so you just let it go. You find Lia and Kyra teasing each other throughout the night cute enough to replace any hard feelings. 
The next strike comes when you have Lia pinned under you in bed, the two of you making use of an Alessia-less house for the night. Alessia had gone out with Vic for the night, telling you with a wink that she would be catching a ride from the Dutch to practice the next day. Your clothes had gone flying off the second you got home from dinner, but before you could really go down to business you hear the unmistakable sound of your doorbell going off. You pause, lips stilling upon Lia’s neck. 
“Maybe if we don’t do anything they’ll go away.”
The doorbell ringing again has you sighing as Lia gently pushes at your shoulders. “Babe, off,” Lia laughs. She gives you a kiss on her way out but she does in fact leave you in bed to see who’s come to visit so late at night.
You’re off daydreaming about what you’re going to get up to when Lia returns when you hear the unmistakable sound of an Australian accent coming from the living room. 
The pillow isn’t enough to muffle your cry of frustration into it. 
You’re already sighing and throwing on a hoodie when Lia pops her head in, apologetic look on her face.
“Do you want to pop the popcorn or me?”
The last straw occurs when you wake up in the middle of the night a couple days later. You’re not really sure what’s woken you up, but you do find yourself at the edge of the bed. There’s barely a sliver of blanket covering you, but Lia’s warm body wrapped around your back gives you all the heat you need.
Humming, you shift as softly as you can so to not jostle your girlfriend. The original plan is to gently shift the two of you back towards the center of the bed, but when you reach over Lia to make the transition easier, your hand hits the undeniable form of a third body. 
You freeze. 
Hazily opening an eye, you raise your head to look at the other side of the bed. Next to you is Lia, like you expected. What you don’t expect is the snoring Australian sprawled out over Lia's half of the bed.
You have to bite back your groan.
You let out a disgruntled grunt when you settle back onto the tiny piece of the mattress left to you. 
You’re not sure how long you lay there awake and thinking through the best way to go about ridding yourself of the new girl in your bed when a sleepy hand comes up to pat at your cheek. 
“Why are you brooding?”
Although you’re a bit grumpy, the sound of Lia still half asleep brings a smile to your face. 
But when you hear a snort, gurgle, and then snore from the other side of your girlfriend, the look is quick to fall off your face.
“What is she doing here?”
Lia frowns, sleepily rubbing at her eyes. She reads your pout easily. “Kyra was tired.”
“So you let her in our bed? Baby, we have a couch. A very comfy couch.”
Lia raises an eyebrow at you.
After spending the next night sleeping on said couch you come to two conclusions. First, the couch is not as comfortable as you initially thought. Second, Alessia was right.
You corner your sister at training the next day. She looks surprised but follows you when you pull her into a storage closet.
“Okay, how do you want to do it? Should we kidnap and ship her back to Australia?”
Alessia grins, not even needing you to say anything further. “Nah, we can keep her local. I think it’s time the other Aussies get custody, don’t ya think?”
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"
and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?
That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."
And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?
We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.
Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.
Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!
I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.
I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!
I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.
There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.
A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?
I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.
You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.
Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"
We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.
As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"
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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month
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Redemption is Best Served Hot
LUCIFER x READER
Part Two
Summary: You are like the mom Charlie always wanted. And like the partner Lucifer wishes he had.
Warnings: NONE.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN! See pinned post for details
In the bustling underworld of Hell, where chaos and mayhem were the order of the day, there stood a peculiar establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel. Run by the optimistic and determined demon princess, Charlie, the hotel aimed to rehabilitate wayward souls and give them a chance at Heaven. 
You, an older demon, found yourself entangled in the unique tapestry of the Hazbin Hotel. Drawn to Charlie's mission and warmth, you had become an essential part of the hotel's daily operations. As the pseudo-mother to Charlie and the other inhabitants, Y/N provided a sense of stability and care in the tumultuous underworld. A pillar of support for the lost souls seeking refuge within the hotel's walls, helping with the cleaning, aiding anyone with anything; you were in fact quite literally acting mother to all six inhabitants. Not that they minded, each loved you in their own way. Even Alastor, who would not admit it to himself that maybe your cooking could have rivaled his own mother’s.
“Nifty darling, here. Don’t run around with that old knife. This one is much sharper.” “Oooooo, thank you! BUGS PREPARE TO DIE!”
“Angel, poor thing. Come here, let me draw you a bath and we can talk all about it….or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you would like.” “Yeah…that woulds be good.” 
“The new shipment just arrived, Husk! Do you want me to help you carry it in?” “Nah, I got it. But thanks.”
“PENTIOUS! What did I say about letting the Egg Bois into my kitchen?!”  “Sssssory Mssss Y/N.”  “It’s alright dear, just…please be more mindful of them. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Vaggie, no you may not kill Alastor.” “But..!” “No buts! You will respect Charlie’s wishes. And that goes for you too, Alastor.” “Oh me? Darling, it would be a pleasure to do as her highness commands.” 
And so on and so forth as the world goes. 
Over the years, Lucifer, the charismatic and charming ruler of Hell, found himself increasingly drawn to you after the original spout with Heaven. It wasn't just your unparalleled dedication to the hotel or the unwavering support you offered to Charlie; it was a magnetic force that pulled him towards you. Lucifer, accustomed to the chaos and seduction that surrounded him, found the calm demeanor and genuine kindness irresistible. In the dimly lit chambers of the hotel, Lucifer found himself captivated by your unwavering dedication and boundless compassion. He admired the way you effortlessly navigated the tumultuous currents of Hell, offering solace to those who had long abandoned hope. 
One evening, as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel gathered for a makeshift family dinner, Lucifer couldn't help but steal glances at you throughout. Laughter echoed through the room, bringing an unusual warmth to the usually cold and unforgiving realm. Lucifer found himself captivated by the way you effortlessly connected with the diverse souls seeking salvation and he felt his heart twinge a little. The scene was sweet, almost too much so. It made him long for something he had never had with Lillith or thought he could ever have. He hardly touched his food all night, too enthralled with you and your presence. You were like an angel, ironically so. 
After the meal and asking the Egg Bois to clean up(they were kind enough to oblige), you retreated to the hotel's back rooms with a book in hand, a haven of peace in the chaotic underworld. Lucifer followed, the air thick with an unspoken tension. You, engrossed in a book, hadn't bothered to notice the King of Hell until he cleared his throat. With a small flush of embarrassment at accidentally ignoring him, you looked up and met Lucifer's piercing gaze with a soft smile, setting your book aside. 
“What can I do for you Lucifer?”
"Quite the family you've built here," Lucifer commented, his voice a silky blend of charm and authority.
Smiling and setting the book aside, you laughed softly. "They're a unique bunch, but they deserve a chance at redemption, don't they?"
Lucifer nodded, taking a step closer. "And what about you, Y/N?” 
Your gaze met Lucifer's, eyes reflecting a depth of understanding about the true meaning of his question. "We're all seeking something, aren't we? Redemption, forgiveness, a second chance."
Lucifer reached out, gently tracing a finger along Y/N's cheek. "And what do you seek, Y/N?"
Your  heart fluttered, and as you took a deep breath you held his gaze. Oh how he loved that dazed look in your eyes. He wanted you to look up at him that way everyday if possible. Just the way your sparkling and your lips parted so sinfully sweet, he knew even the original sin barrer himself could be tempted. "I seek a chance to make a difference, to maybe bring a little of Heaven down here when I could never do it when I was alive."
Lucifer leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Perhaps you've already brought light to the darkest corner of my realm."
Lucifer then pulled away, a small flush gracing his cheeks. He tipped his hat in acknowledgement before leaving the room without another word. Once outside the door, Lucifer pressed back up against a wall and could feel his undead heart about to beat out of his chest. Placing a hand over his chest in order to calm himself back down, the King of Hell flew back to his castle with a giant grin on his face. 
You too were no stranger to the effects of his…flirting. A giant grin and flush appeared on your face as you sunk back down into the chair you were sitting in. Giggling like a schoolgirl, you kicked your feet happily and ignored the book you were once reading. 
A forbidden connection sparked between Lucifer and you, a dance of redemption and desire in the heart of Hell, where the Hazbin Hotel stood as an peculiar beacon of hope. For in the heart of Lucifer Morningstar, amidst the chaos of Hell's domain, love had found its most unlikely champion.
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rad-batson · 1 year
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Damian Wayne Headcanons :) in which I give him actual character growth, suck it dc writers
this is extremely long, I am not sorry
He has literally no footsteps, you cannot hear him walk, even when he stomps around in one of those moods, it’s just barely a little *pat pat pat*
He doodles on everything. With everything. Some Gothamites have found intricate floral designs etched into the roof or random brick walls (most likely with a knife) after seeing Robin patrol.
He has like 20 weighted blankets, all different weights and sizes depending on his mood.
His favorite item in his room is a silver Nintendo DS. (He likes to use the little chat rooms, even if no one else is on the other end. He doodles and writes little messages. It’s like his diary.)
He loves all animals, and that includes the creepy ones. Especially the creepy ones.
Once, Tim started screaming bloody murder over a massive bug with a bajillion legs in his room. Damian now houses it in an enclosure in his bedroom. Her name is Mildred, Millie for short.
When he was in the LoA, he was forbidden from stimming in front of others. It took two years for anyone in the batfamily to ever witness him stimming.
His most common stimming behaviors are shaking out his hands, scratching his palms, and rubbing his hands across different surfaces. When he’s really stressed, he’ll snap his fingers.
He absolutely hates cameras. They’re loud and make him uncomfortable. One reporter almost got scratched when they got too close to him with the flash on. He only barely tolerates the security cameras in the manor. Barely.
He can and will be roped into any dare imaginable. Bruce repeatedly forbids him from taking dares from his siblings for months at a time.
He has a compartment in his utility belt dedicated to treats for any animal he sees on patrol.
When he’s tired, he’ll speak a mixture of Arabic, Mandarin, and English. Only Bruce can make sense of it, and occasionally Jason.
Bruce absolutely refuses to yell at Damian. Even if some of his other kids argue that he’s being too nice, he’ll only use his Batman voice and his Soft But Disappointed Dad Voice, but he will Never yell.
(He doesn’t tell them it’s because of what happened the first and only time he yelled at Damian. Bruce moved his hand a bit, and Damian flinched wildly. Bruce cried for hours over the implications of that.)
Damian only feels comfortable sitting if he can clearly see the main entrance. If not, he’ll sit with his back against a wall or he’ll stand.
He dutifully takes the responsibility of feeding and grooming every Wayne animal. They receive the most nutritious and filling meals on the market (all while receiving lots of head pats.)
He has very strong eyebrows just like his father. They tend to pull the same exasperated expressions too, highlighting their resemblance.
Talia taught Damian at a very young age how to write perfectly with both hands. He no longer remembers if he is naturally left or right-handed.
The one insult he cannot handle is “spoiled brat.” A few months after he arrived, someone in the family called him that as a joke, and he completely shut down emotionally. No anger, no sadness, no resentment. Literally just nothing. For days. No one knows why, but they will never let it happen again.
You know he’s Up to Something TM if he swings his legs back and forth while he sits.
He is obsessed with those cheap TV documentaries about famous plane crashes and shipwrecks. After finishing one, he’ll find the nearest family member and tell them all about it: how it happened, what human error caused it, and his fool-proof plan for if it ever happens again and he is nearby. Usually, it’s Alfred.
For the first few years at the manor, Damian’s favorite spot is the family graveyard. Everyone calls him dramatic. He just likes how it’s so quiet. (And he’s dramatic.)
When Jason waxes poetics about dying over dinner, Damian just groans and says, “So have I. You’re not special.” That’s how the family learns he was repeatedly revived in the Lazarus Pit due to the fatal nature of his training and abuse.
His first ever crush was on the cute male tech at Alfred the Cat’s vet. Damian was 12. Jason, who accompanied him, proceeded to give him both The Talk (“It’s okay to like boys”) and The Talk (“Your body is ✨changing✨”) on the drive home.
He will not text back unless it is absolutely necessary. He will leave people on read. He does not hate you. (…Probably.)
Titus is a registered therapy dog, trained in helping Damian through panic attacks and sensory overload. If you ever see Damian asleep on the floor, eyes cried out with Titus resting on top of him, you know why.
When he was 13, he tried to fake his own death after he failed a test at school and “dishonored the family name.” Bruce and Dick had to sit him down and explain that grades aren’t everything, and they still love him unconditionally.
He talks to animals like they’re human. He has a habit of venting his frustrations to Batcow in particular. And his fish while he feeds them.
His love language to others is a mixture of gifts and quality time, usually without words.
One day, Damian was snooping around the house and found that one of the electrical closets leads to a tiny space—barely two feet wide—in between the sheetrock and the foundation wall with nothing but a single hanging lightbulb. It took years before anyone else found it, but by then, Damian had painted an 8x10 ft mural on the wall and created a small bed of blankets and pillows for when he needs a quiet place to escape unwanted stimuli.
When he sleeps, his cheeks puff out like a little chipmunk. It’s adorable.
During the Winter Olympics one year, Damian falls in love with figure skating and decides he wants to try it out, but he never asks to take up lessons in fear that he will be horrible at it.
Duke figures this out and now takes him ice skating just enough to avoid suspicion. It’s become their bonding activity.
Once, Jason and Tim made him try a Sour Patch Kids-flavored energy drink. He immediately spit it out and said, “What the fuck?! That’s even worse than drinking from the Lazarus Pit.” And that’s how the family learns that Ra’s made Damian drink from the Lazarus Pit a few times.
One day, Steph told Damian about the wonders of concealed self defense products. Now, about 80% of the mundane items Damian owns is secretly a knife. He will purchase any item that is secretly a knife. Including several fake lipstick tubes.
He has rigorous self-control when it comes to sleep. Sure, his schedule is a bit fucked up for someone his age, but he is in bed and asleep exactly when he tells himself. (His siblings could never.)
His entire wardrobe is soft items he “found” stole from the laundry room. If it’s comfortable, it’s his now. (No one complains. In fact, having Damian steal your clothes is considered a privilege.)
He hates whenever Alfred tries to recreate dishes from his childhood. It’s just not the same. Alfred understands.
When he’s really stressed—like the “I am one stubbed toe away from a complete meltdown” stressed—he will finger paint. He likes the feeling of it on his skin.
Due to his time in the LoA, Damian has a habit of never telling anyone if he’s injured. Instead, he’ll pretend nothing’s wrong until he passes out or literally can’t move right and someone calls him out. He’s working on it, though.
There’s a massive system of fish tanks in his room complete with handmade decor and multiple venomous species. No one even realizes until Alfred mentions it during dinner.
He has hyper fixated at least once on every single artistic medium you can imagine. His top three are oil paintings, mosaics, and pottery, but he mostly sticks to drawing in his free time.
He has taste tested all of his pets’ treats at one point for “research purposes.”
Giving friends their own nickname is one of the most intimate things Damian does to express his relationship with someone.
Once, he was having an argument with a sibling, and they said, “Oh yeah? Well at least Bruce wanted me!” Damian didn’t leave his room for exactly six days. He even stapled blackout curtains to his windows and the vents. Bruce chewed the shit out of whoever said it and spent hours every day talking to Damian through the door to convince him that, yes, Bruce wants him and couldn’t ever think of a family without him. Damian didn’t come out, however, until he heard Bruce crying while begging him to eat. Damian slept in Bruce’s bed that night and the following week.
When he turns 15, he gets really obsessed with Måneskin.
He’s exactly the kind of Art Hoe that is completely loyal to his favorite brand of art supplies and wouldn’t touch other brands with a 10ft pole.
He has weirdly thin fingers. Like creepily thin, especially as he grows older. Someone commented on them once, and Damian proceeded to wear gloves nonstop for a week.
There are exactly four (4) people who are allowed to touch him without permission first. Dick, Jon, Bruce, and Talia in that order.
His eyes are actually naturally blue. The reason they are green is because of the Lazarus Pit. It’s always the Lazarus Pit. (They barely glow in the dark too, but you need to really pay attention to notice.)
He can wiggle his ears. The only people to ever witness it are Cass and Duke. They’ve been sworn to secrecy.
Whenever one of his many pets sleeps in his bed, he tries to stay as still as possible without touching them so they don’t get annoyed and leave, but they always worm their way into his arms.
As he grows, his family is surprised to learn that he isn’t building the same muscle as his dad. Instead, he’s lean like his mother due to an extremely fast metabolism. He eats a lot to maintain proper health. (His cheeks are still puffy when he sleeps, though. And when he smiles.)
Dick is his emergency contact for school, partially because Dick isn’t as busy, partially due to that time Bruce “died,” but mostly because Damian is terrified of disappointing Bruce if he ever gets in trouble. Thankfully, Dick is convincing Damian otherwise.
His favorite ever birthday gift comes from Tim. It’s a pottery studio he spent months building on their property in secret with several pottery wheels and a kiln.
His hands have always had a sort of surgical accuracy to them due to his stealth training, but it never came to the forefront of everyone’s mind until one particular mission when Tim got shot, and they needed to get the bullet out as quickly as possible. Despite being bigger than most of his family members by now, and Tim refusing to stay still the whole time, Damian was the only one capable of taking the bullet out. While riding in the Batmobile. Going 80 mph. Completely painlessly. Damian is immediately given the de facto role of Combat Medic.
Jon likes to send Good morning texts to Damian. At first, he didn’t know about the “only responds if it’s an emergency” thing, though, so he decided to stop after a few weeks of Damian never replying. Within an hour of not getting the usual text, Damian was at Jon’s house in full Robin gear to make sure he was okay.
He and Steph like to paint each other’s nails when one of them is stressed. After Damian comes out as pansexual, Steph paints little pride flags on his fingers.
He only plays Minecraft on creative mode. He likes building farms and wildlife preserves.
At 16, he gets asked out by a pretty girl in school that Damian had a crush on last year, but he thinks it’s a joke because he can’t fathom anyone liking him so he turns her down.
As he grows, his looks become more androgynous, again eerily resembling his mother, but his voice drops low enough that it doesn’t cause much misgendering.
Then he starts thinking of his gender a bit more and wonders if he’s also a They.
He likes to paint all over the soles of his shoes whenever he gets a new pair. No one will ever really see it, of course, and it eventually wears off the more he walks, but he knows it’s there.
It’s a nice day in the park. He’s doing homework on a picnic table while Titus and Ace run around, and he can’t stop thinking about his future.
Yesterday, there was a school assembly about choosing a career path. Alfred slid him an SAT prep book during breakfast. And his class was assigned one of those “Which career path is best for you?” quizzes.
He gets Veterinarian.
It takes a full five minutes as Damian stares at the results, thinking about the crazy, out-of-this-world idea of not being a vigilante or assassin his entire life, what it would be like if he just turned his back on the future which was so carefully laid out in front of him since birth, before it clicks into place.
Damian doesn’t want to be Batman.
He doesn’t want to lead the LoA either.
Two years later, Damian enrolls in Gotham University and majors in Wildlife Biology on the Pre-Vet track with a minor in Studio Arts. He gets a dorm room, works in the pottery studio, and volunteers at the local animal shelter.
He is content.
Does some of this stray from canon? Yes. However, I do not give a rat’s ass. Thank you, and goodnight.
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peachyhalstead · 2 months
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married man | j. halstead
request:Can you do a Jay Halstead x Reader. They are both married and have a child together. The child just started pre-k or kindergarten and since the reader is heavily pregnant Jay has been dropping off and picking up their kid. And maybe like the single moms are flirting with Jay since they think he might be a single dad but they get surprised when the reader picks the kid one day after giving birth.
pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead
word count: 1.75k
warnings: none??
a/n: dad!jay dad!jay dad!jay !!!!! they have a little boy (his name is dylan) and a newborn girlie (what should her name be)
------
Grumbling as the alarm went off, you blindly reached over and whacked Jay on the chest. “Why’s it have to be so loud?”
Jay chuckled, silencing his phone’s alarm. “It’s not even that loud, babe.”
You glared at him through narrow eyes. “If I wasn’t about to pop right now I’d give you a piece of my mind.”
Letting out a hearty laugh, Jay got out of bed and folded his portion of the comforter back up, trapping the heat for you. “Only a few more weeks, babe. Then you’ll be able to move without having to pee every two seconds.”
You slowly followed Jay, yawning and rubbing the nine-month bump as you headed into the kitchen to package your son’s lunch.
He had recently started kindergarten, and loved telling you and Jay about all his escapades with his classmates as he learned different things.
“I could’ve done that, you didn’t have to get up.” Jay said, popping a capsule into the coffee machine and starting it.
Shrugging, you zipped the lunchbox closed and set it next to the matching blue backpack, one hand going to rub at the sore spot on your back. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.”
Jay noticed, and his hands slowly made their way to the exact spot that bothered you in your first pregnancy. “Who do you thinks going to ask me out today, hm?”
Laughing softly, you clicked your tongue at Jay. “You really enjoy that, don’t you? Miss getting hit on?”
Jay shook his head. “Don’t miss it one bit. Just enjoy seeing those soccer moms think their whispers are quiet.”
A few weeks ago Jay had mentioned that some of the moms at drop-off had been talking about Jay, commenting on his lack of wedding band and no significant other ever at drop off or pick up.
“Momma, when will you go to school with me?” Dylan asked, your son finally making his appearance in his pajamas.
“Soon, little bug. Once Little Sister is here, I’ll drop you off with Daddy some days.”
Dylan frowned. “Can Sissy come now?”
You huffed, wanting nothing more than to deliver the weight that seemed to be constantly on your bladder. “I wish, but I think she needs a few more weeks.”
Jay smiled into his coffee cup, phone chiming with a text from Hailey. “Come on, Dyl. Let’s get dressed so you can show your friends your new shoes.”
Dylan beamed at the thought, and followed Jay back to his room, leaving you alone in the warm kitchen. The aroma of coffee lingered as you found a chair to rest in, hand absently tracing circles over your distended belly.
A sigh of contentment escaped you; this was your world, and despite the groggy mornings and occasional aggravations - like trying to convince Dylan to brush his teeth properly - you wouldn’t change it for anything else. That was the beauty of family - it wasn’t always perfect, but it was yours. And that made all the imperfections precious in their own odd way.
The sound of Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts as he asked Dylan to choose between two shirts. You smiled, knowing how seriously your little boy took these morning decisions. Sipping on some water and slowly standing up, you decided to start breakfast.
The scent of eggs and bacon soon filled the room, joining the still lingering coffee aroma. Dylan would be excited; he loved his simple morning breakfasts. As you were flipping an egg, Jay returned with Dylan in tow. Their matching grins caught your eye.
“What are you two up to?” You questioned playfully, adjusting your hold on your bump.
“Nothing,” they both chimed in unison, their grins growing even wider.
“Okay,” you drew out the first syllable, grabbing a plate and moving the eggs for Dylan to eat, blowing on them as you cut them into pieces.
“Eat, then Daddy will bring you to school.” You smiled, cracking a few more eggs and grabbing a tortilla and the toppings you knew Jay liked, quickly making a breakfast wrap for him.
Wrapping it in foil, you smiled to yourself as you heard Jay helping Dylan put on his sneakers.
“Ok, we gotta go, Little Man! Go give Momma a kiss.”
Dylan skipped over to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs, promising you he’d come home with a drawing to put in the nursery.
Thanking him, you smiled at Jay as he grabbed the wrap and his badge, stopping to press a kiss to your forehead. “Take it easy today, babe.”
“I will. Go break hearts and catch perps, Jay.”
——
Jay hid his eye roll as he followed Dylan to the drop off location, ignoring the looks from the few single mothers nearby.
“I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t grab that ass? He’s such a good dad, too.”
Jay overheard one of the mothers and shook his head, stifling a laugh. He still found it amusing and somewhat flattering to know that he was the topic of their little gossip circle. But he also knew firmly where his heart lay - at home with you and Dylan, and soon, your new little girl.
As Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, he turned to Jay with a big grin. "Daddy, do you think I can tell Mrs. Johnson about Sissy coming soon?"
Jay bent down to his level, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, buddy. I'm sure she will be thrilled to hear it."
At that moment, a pair of giggling women walked by, shooting him suggestive glances over their shoulders. He merely smiled politely before turning away.
Arriving back at the car, Jay pulled out his phone and saw a text from you: Feeling better now that the house is empty. How did drop off go?
He quickly typed back: Smooth as always. He's telling all his teachers about his soon-to-be little sister.
Satisfied, he started the vehicle and headed towards the precinct. His phone chimed again with your response: That's my boy! Take care at work, Jay.
He chuckled as he imagined you grinning at your phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table even though you often chided him for doing the same thing.
——
The routine didn’t shift for the next few weeks, but the gossiping mothers were surprised when Dylan was dropped off by Will one day, Jay at the hospital where you were currently resting with the newest addition to the family.
“Uncle Will, can we see Momma and Sissy after school?” Dylan asked, tugging on his uncle’s hand.
"Of course, buddy," Will replied with a soft smile, watching as Dylan's face lit up with joy. "I bet they can't wait to see you."
Once Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, Will indulged in a moment of silence. He was used to the emergency room's relentless noise and bustle, so the unfamiliar hush of the school yard in the early morning was a welcome respite. A group of mothers were huddled together, shooting glances his way. Perhaps he was becoming part of their gossip routine now too - he silently hoped otherwise.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, Jay could barely tear his gaze away from you sleeping peacefully, the tiny bundle in his arms a testament to your strength and love. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight; you looked more beautiful than ever, your face radiating an exhausted but blissful glow as your daughter, their daughter, clung onto his finger with her small hand.
Just then, she stirred awake and let out a soft whimper which turned into a loud wail. He quickly got up and started to gently rock her, not wanting her cries to disturb your much-needed rest.
“Hey there, little princess,” he cooed softly as he bounced her gently in his arms. “Let’s not wake Mommy up now.”
After a few minutes of gentle rocking and hushed lullabies - Jay trying his best to remember the ones you sung to Dylan when he was an infant, the baby quieted down, blue eyes peering up at her father.
“Hi, munchkin. You already have half of Chicago’s first responders wrapped around your finger.” He whispered, soft smile at his lips as he thought back to the replies from his team when he sent the photo of the baby in the group chat.
"The other half is itching to meet you. Just wait until Uncle Will gets a hold of you. You're going to be spoiled rotten." He laughed softly, mindlessly tracing a finger over his daughter's tiny forehead.
His phone buzzed where he had left it on the bedside table. It was a message from Will letting him know that Dylan had been dropped off at school and asking if they could come by after school to see the baby.
Jay's heart swelled, even more, knowing his son was equally excited about his little sister's arrival. Jay quickly typed a response, assuring Will they would be more than happy to have visitors later in the day.
——
The day passed in a flurry of nurses checking vitals and bringing meals, phone calls from family and friends, and quiet moments spent marveling over their newest addition. Dylan was bursting with energy when Will brought him by after school, his wide eyes taking in everything with an infectious excitement that had everyone in the room smiling.
"Momma, Sissy is really small!" Dylan whispered in awe as he approached the bed, carefully peering over the edge of the bassinet.
You chuckled at his innocent observation as Jay helped him climb up onto the bed to get a better look. "Yes, she is," you agreed with a fond smile. "You were that small, too, Little Man!”
Dylan looked at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh!”
“Mhmm!” You replied, fixing his shirt as he squirmed to get another look at his sister.
“When can you and Sissy come to school?” He asked, looking at you.
Jay laughed quietly, and you looked at your husband. “Soon, Dyl.”
——
Two weeks later, you consoled the crying baby as Jay helped Dylan put his backpack on. “Can Sissy come meet Mrs. Johnson?”
Shaking your head, you carefully strapped the little girl into her carrier, softly rubbing her cheek. “Not yet. Maybe during the spring concert, but she’s still too little.”
Jay stood up and grabbed his keys. “She can help Momma and Daddy drop you off, though. That sound good?”
Dylan’s face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Everyone will get to see her!” He jumped excitedly before Jay guided him out the door.
Satisfied with your successful early morning, you carried the baby carrier to the car and buckled it in securely at the back seat. Moving around was still a little tough for you but you were slowly getting the hang of things. You climbed into the passenger side, glancing back at Dylan who was squirming in his seat with anticipation.
The drive to the school was filled with Dylan's non-stop chatter about what he was going to show his little sister. Jay had a soft smile on his face as he listened to his son, occasionally glancing at you in admiration and shared joy.
Once they arrived in front of the school, Dylan unbuckled himself and carefully opened your car door for you. “Be careful, Momma!” He cautioned, making Jay chuckle as he followed behind with his son’s backpack.
You smiled, letting Jay go ahead with Dylan so he wasn’t late, working to unstrap your daughter’s carrier so Dylan could see her one last time before he was in school.
“Jay, haven’t seen you the last few days. Is everything okay?” One of the mothers who had tried to hit on Jay asked, faux worry on her face.
Jay wore a smile as he turned to the woman, Dylan's hand tucked safely in his own as they made their way toward the school entrance. "Yeah, everything’s great, actually. My wife just gave birth to our second child," he responded casually, nodding his head towards the car where you were carefully lifting the baby carrier.
The woman blinked in surprise before offering a tight-lipped smile, "Oh, I didn’t know... congratulations."
"Thanks," Jay replied with a nod before turning his attention back to Dylan whose bundle of excitement was barely contained. As Jay opened the door for him to enter he looked into the bright eyes of his son and smiled reassuringly, "You ready?"
Dylan nodded eagerly, already tugging on his father's hand to drag him inside. Jay followed docilely, striding up the hallway towards Dylan's classroom.
Meanwhile, you were still out by the car, struggling slightly with the baby carrier that seemed to weigh even more than your now two-week-old daughter. A few mothers noticed and stepped forward to help you, their faces lighting up at the sight of the infant bundled up against the cold.
"Oh she's absolutely adorable!" One woman cooed, and you recognized her from when Jay was telling you how one of them started to wear low-cut tops after he started doing drop off duty.
You walked with them to the doors, smile brightening when you saw Jay and Dylan at the door, the young boy wanting to say goodbye to his sister.
“Bye, Sissy! Bye, Momma!” Dylan smiled, giving his sister a kiss and hugging your legs, unaware that his farewells caused the mothers who had walked with you to gasp lightly.
Jay’s smile widened at Dylan's display of affection, ruffling his son's hair gently, "Alright, champ. We’ll pick you up later. Have a great day at school."
Dylan nodded eagerly before disappearing into the bustling school building with his teacher. The remaining mothers turned to you, their surprised expressions replaced by warm, slender smiles as they admired your little girl.
Back in the car, you laughed as Jay started the ignition. “Think I felt the daggers from some of the moms when they found out you’re married.”
Jay snorted, turning back to the road to your house. “Well, that or when they found out we have great sex. Either way, watch your back, babe.”
You gawked at Jay’s remark, hitting him in the chest. “Jay! Your daughter is listening!”
“Oh, she’ll hear worse when Ruz babysits her." ------ a/n: send requests if you wanna!!
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lazycats-stuff · 2 months
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U know those adorable videos where big brothers are the most gentle and just keep picking up and kissing their baby sibling no matter if the baby was sleeping or not? I imagine babybatbro (triple B lol) will be napping next to Bruce in bed and then which ever batbro will come in and steal the baby with no explanation hehe, I'd like to see something like that with all 4 batbros please
Awww... My heart, my cold heart is melting slowly but surely... So much fluff...
Summary: (Y/N) loves to nap, but everyone keeps picking him up.
Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, minor cursing,
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Babies are wonderful little creatures. So cute, adorable, extremely cuddly, kind of defenseless, but one hell of a boost for serotonin. Babies were also a source of anxiety. Whenever (Y/N) cried, one of the boys or Bruce or Alfred would check on him and would gently shush him and try to figure out what was wrong with their little brother, son or grandson.
Usually it was easy, but sometimes it was a little bit more complex. No one ever said that raising a child is an easy feat. It's incredibly difficult, but also fulfilling at the same time. You get some incredible memories on the way and a nice cuddle bug who to a certain degree has a calming effect on you.
Of course, while the baby is calm and sleeping.
Speaking of sleeping, (Y/N) loved to nap. Whenever he could nap, he would. Public, home... It does not matter where they were, (Y/N) would nap. Even when the press was around and was loud, if it was nap time, (Y/N) was out cold. It was funny to see it and nothing but hunger or a soiled diaper would wake him up.
More importantly, the little bat or little shit if you ask Jason, loved to sleep next to someone in bed. And considering the fact that every member of the family needed a nap, (Y/N) was a perfect person to nap with. Some said that (Y/N) was like a cat. You know, eat on time, sleep on time...
Almost like a little kitten almost.
And when (Y/N) was asleep and cuddling with someone, those who weren't napping would take the little baby. At this point, they only used nicknames like little bat or kitten.
Now, back to the napping situation.
Whenever (Y/N) was napping with someone, the others would just take the little baby into their own arms and slowly move away from the original napping person. Yes, it may sound confusing.
For example, if (Y/N) and Bruce were napping, Jason would come in, sneakily take (Y/N) into his arms, gently of course.
The first time anything like that happened, Bruce was napping with (Y/N), in Bruce's room. It was quiet and Jason wanted to see his little brother. So what does on do to go get his little brother? He sneaks into Bruce's room and ever so quietly takes the napping baby into his arms and slowly sneaks out of the room to go to his own room.
When Bruce woke up he looked for his son. He found him with Jason after 10 minutes of searching. Jason simply waved at him while (Y/N) was slowly waking up in his arms. Bruce just sighed and left to get some coffee.
Jason chuckled quietly and cuddled his baby brother who was waking up, slowly cooing and squirming in Jason's arms and Jason nearly puked from the atomic bomb that (Y/N) has dropped at the moment in his diaper.
" Oh you cheeky little- " Jason cut himself off with a gag before going to (Y/N)'s room to change the diaper and not die from the smell. He gagged as he undid the diaper and threw it in the trash. He is weak. He is Red Hood, but he is weak. However, this could be considered as a bio weapon.
Jason cleaned (Y/N) up, who was wiggling his legs and giggling. Jason smiled and then put on a clean onesie and then took him into his arms.
The second time that taking a napping little baby happened was when Jason was napping with (Y/N). He was sleeping in his room, his brother in his arms. And who dares to disturb them? Damian. He wanted to spend time with his little brother.
So what does Damian do?
After a second of planning he sneaks in and ever so gently takes his little baby brother into his arms, shushing him gently in Arabic when he started fussing. Then, Damian, slowly made his way to his room, gently humming to him to keep him quiet.
Once in his room, Damian started cooing to (Y/N) in Arabic. Yes, Damian has said to Bruce that (Y/N) should know Arabic. It's a language worth knowing, what can he say?
Once Jason woke up, he was pissed. Whoever took (Y/N) was a bastard. He grumbled as he started looking for his baby brother. He glared when he entered Damian's room. And more so when he saw Damian smirking, in the condescending way.
" You are weak Todd. What if I was a burglar? "
Damian was lucky that (Y/N) was in his arms.
Third time when it happened was when Tim took (Y/N) from Dick. Dick was sleeping on the couch, which was outstretched so it could accommodate Dick and (Y/N). It was a nice, rainy afternoon, perfect for a little nap with a little, warm and cuddly baby.
So that's what Dick did.
He took his little brother into his arms, laid him on a couch, covered him with a blanket and closed his eyes. He put his arm over his brother and fell asleep quickly. It was nice to fall asleep with his little brother and the sound of rain falling.
Well, it was nice until Tim popped into the living room.
Tim also wanted to have his brother in his arms. Everyone hogs the poor baby and Tim needs to make sure that he has his time with the baby too. Tim ever so gently picked his little brother up and left to his room. But not before leaving Dick a note saying where (Y/N) is.
When Dick woke up, confused as to where his baby brother is. Safe to say, he wasn't a happy camper when he saw what has happened. More so at the note. He just grumbled and went back to napping.
And the fourth time when (Y/N) was 'kidnapped' was when Dick took (Y/N) from Tim. The two fell asleep while they were watching a movie. And Dick, very gently took his brother into his arms, happy to have his brother back.
And once of the best things about (Y/N)?
He could sleep through anything as he was a heavy sleeper. He rarely ever made a sound while he was sleeping. So Dick took his brother back into his arms and simply left. And without a note even. Dick laughed in his room afterwards, happy to take his revenge.
This was all some revenge, but not a vicious cycle by any means. It was nice, fluffy, harmless revenge. (Y/N) was happy to be cuddled and held, especially during napping. And if it was a competition between the brothers...
Oh well.
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jennifer-jeong · 1 month
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Guess who😊
As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)
Take your time dear <3
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL
ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)
[Fluff + Angst] [Xiao/Wanderer x Reader] Reincarnation
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CONTENT
Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things
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XIAO
When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.
No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.
He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.
Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.
He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.
He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.
But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.
Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.
He sensed you.
It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?
It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.
Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.
Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.
Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.
As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.
His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.
He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.
You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.
Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.
His heart pounded as you spoke.
“I missed you, my love.”
Instantly you were in each other's arms.
“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.
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WANDERER
He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.
You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.
He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.
He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.
Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.
Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.
His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.
She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.
It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.
Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”
Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.
He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.
Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.
As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.
His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?
But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:
It didn’t matter.
You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.
You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.
He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.
Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.
“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”
His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.
“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”
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Thank you for reading!
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|| MASTERLIST<3 ||
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caramelberzatto · 7 months
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sleepless in chicago // c. berzatto
HI!! here is my first ever dad!carm fic because i simply couldn't get him out of my head. i just love this sweet, little fic so much?? because it just felt so cosy for me when i was writing. i hope you guys love it, too :) and also, i'd like everyone to welcome little riley michael berzatto <3 - clarke pairing: carmy x fem!reader (no description, use of fem pronouns)
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The streetlights glowed like stars as you drove home, humming along to the radio. After a long lecture, you were ready to take a long, hot shower and collapse into bed with Carmy.
In the cup holder, your phone began to ring, Carmy's name popping up on the screen. Flicking the Bluetooth toggle on your steering wheel, you answered the call.
"Hi, Bear, I'm almost home."
“Hey, honey,” his voice was low, quiet, and you could hear Riley’s soft coos and babbles in the background. “How was class?”
“Good, yeah. Long, though. Is everything okay? Did Riley lose his paci again? Why isn’t he asleep?”
“Hey, shh, it’s okay, mommy’s coming home, alright?” Carmy cleared his throat, glancing at his son in the bassinet, unable to fight his smile as he watched Riley squirm, reaching his little hands up toward the mobile, sea creatures swimming through the air. “He was asleep, but I was folding laundry in our room and I just heard him start babbling, just saying ‘mom’ over and over. He’s not upset, he’s just, like, awake. And no matter what I do, he won’t settle.”
You smiled to yourself, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel as a red light gleamed at you.
“Try taking him out of his sleepsack, he probably just wants to snuggle.”
“I think he misses you,” he said, voice moving away from the phone with each word. “Isn’t that right, Bug? We miss mommy, huh? But she’s learning, Buggy, she’s so smart. Yes, she is.”
Grinning, you turned onto your street, able to see the lamplight from your bedroom already. One window lit up, a beacon against the otherwise dark house.
At first, when you’d found out you were pregnant, Carmen had been worried. The two of you had agreed to start actively trying to have a child, but when it came to fruition, there was a tumultuous night spent with him, clinging to you, worked up into a state of panic.
‘What if I can’t do it, what if I fucking suck and I fuck it all up, and our baby-’
‘Stop it. Stop. Carm, look at me. Look at me and just shut up for a second.’ You pulled him close, his head resting in the crook of your neck. ‘We will figure it all out together. We’re going to be fine.’
He’d been so worried that he’d grow to create a fucked up family, just like the one he’d escaped from. But seeing him now… He never gave himself enough credit. 
Toeing off your shoes by the door, you crept down the hall and into the bedroom. Kicking off your jeans in exchange for a pair of sweatpants, you were lifting your shirt over your head when the bedroom door creaked softly. You glanced over your shoulder and there they were; Carmen stood in the doorway, shirtless, gold chain gleaming, in a pair of boxers. With Riley on his hip, sleepy eyes bright. Your son babbled, reaching for you with soft, chubby fingers. 
“Hi, mama,” Carmy smirked, gaze darting over you. You wandered over to them, dropping your shirt on the floor, swatting your husband playfully. Carmen pulled you in, his hand cradled the back of your head as he pressed an almost desperate kiss to your lips.
With Riley sandwiched between you, his warm little body like a heater, his curious hands playing with the strap of your bra, you rested your forehead against Carmy’s, just relishing the moment with him. 
Your little family.
And you’re struck, all at once, by the memory of every moment you’d spent wishing for something like this. It had all seemed so unattainable, so out of reach; but you’d just been a lonely teenager, stuck in your hometown. The world hadn’t opened up to you yet.
But now?
If your younger self could’ve seen this, this little moment between the love of your life and the joint result of it, your son…
Well, they’d be proud that you never gave up searching for that comfort, that peace, you’d always craved.
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bishopsbeloved · 3 months
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the art of falling in love (part one)
natasha romanoff x fem reader (high school au)
You’ve been in love with your best friend’s sister ever since you first met her (who wouldn’t be?), and you were content to take these feelings to the grave. But when she begins to reciprocate, things get complicated, and you find yourself lying to almost everyone you know — including yourself.
best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)
part one (5k words) | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
read this fic on ao3!
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You’ll never forget the fateful day that you laid eyes upon Natasha Romanoff for the first time. Even at the ripe age of seven, you knew you wanted her in your life forever.
Melina Vostokoff and Alexi Shostakov are your neighbours — they live right across the street, and they have done for as long as you can remember. On your fifth birthday, they came home from a trip to Russia with a daughter, Yelena. From the moment you laid eyes on one another, the two of you knew you were best friends. Neither sets of parents had any qualms on that (“oho, here comes trouble,” Alexi would say teasingly whenever the two of you came tearing into the room), and so even before Natasha’s arrival you spent more of your waking hours in their household than in your own.
One time, two years since Yelena entered your life and only a few weeks before Natasha’s arrival, you were playing in the sandy dirt down the back of Yelena’s house, and huffing in annoyance as it proved too fine to hold up as a sandcastle. You looked over at your best friend who was currently experiencing much more success in her own task, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as she carefully stacked twigs to build a bug hotel, and without even thinking you asked, “why did you pick me? To be your friend?”
Yelena blinked, surprised, but placed a leaf on top of her miniature structure to serve as a roof before responding. “What do you mean?”
“Weeeeell,” you narrowed your eyes in thought, trying to figure out what it was that you meant, “we’ve just always been friends. And I like it, but I was like, why?”
She was quiet for a good few moments, and if you didn’t know the girl any better then you would have missed the slight cleft between her brows that means she’s formulating her next words, and you would’ve thought she was ignoring you. But you did know better, because she was your best friend, and that thought filled your tiny frame with joy.
“Sometimes when you meet people, it’s special,” she said eventually. “Like a puzzle, you know when they fit together? Like — like that,” she mimed two things slotting together with her fingers, and you nodded. “It happened for us, I think. It happened when my mom and dad met, they tell me all the time that dad loved mom from the moment he met her,” she wrinkled her nose, and you giggled. “And it happened for me and my sister in Russia.”
With that last statement, she’d caught your interest. Often in passing she’d mention her sister from the orphanage in Russia, where she’d been before Melina and Alexi had sorted out her visa to bring her back to their home in Ohio. You never quite knew how to respond to it, and she never elaborated beyond throwaway comments such as these, so you were fairly certain that this sister wasn’t even real until the day she was brought home.
And what a day that was; one that turned your life upside down forever. As far as you knew, when you first woke up, it was a day like any other. Another sunny morning of summer vacation. You woke up as bright and early as children annoyingly do and rushed to get ready to spend another day at Yelena’s house, no doubt irritating the shit out of her parents (who, to their credit, were very tolerant of you and Yelena’s seven-year-old antics). But once you’d knocked and stood fidgeting eagerly on their front porch, it wasn’t Yelena, or her parents, who opened the door.
No, it was an unfamiliar girl you were faced with — only one year older as you were soon to learn, but already an entire head taller than you. She looked down at you, face stony, and you stared back in confusion. There was no way this was the wrong house, you’d been coming here every day for the last two years, and you saw it every time you looked out of your bedroom window. So what was going on?
You found yourself remembering a Slavic children’s story Alexi had told you and Yelena last winter, late at night when you were curled up by the fire together drinking hot chocolate, about an old lady who had a house with chicken legs. The Baba Yaga, Alexi had called her. During the night her house would stand up and run away, and be gone from its previous spot the next morning; you found yourself wondering if this had happened to Yelena’s house too. Could any house have legs, or just the Baba Yaga’s house? You’d have to ask Alexi — once you tracked down his runaway house, of course.
“Y/N,” a voice squealed from behind the unfamiliar girl, and Yelena’s face poked out from behind her. “Y/N this is my sister! From Russia, her name is Natasha.”
“You are Yelena’s best friend?” Natasha asked softly, a gentle Russian lilt to her words. “It’s nice to meet you.”
And just like Yelena had described to you, you looked up at Natasha and something just clicked. Something aligned; a puzzle piece you hadn’t even known you were missing slotted into place.
You knew even then that you wanted to be around her forever.
It’s been ten years now, since that day, and you’ve grown up alongside the two of them. You’re an only child with distant parents, and Alexi and Melina have taken you under your wing — so much in fact that Yelena’s room is referred to affectionately as the twins’ room, and you have your own bed in there. More of your stuff is at their house rather than your own these days.
But Natasha has always been just out of reach. Since the day you first met her there’s been this pit in your stomach whenever she’s been around, strange and foreign and somewhat scary to you, that has you reduced to a silent mess with trembling fingers whenever she’s around. It’s a feeling you’ve not always understood, but in more recent years you’ve come to accept you’re in love with her; something you will take to the grave.
You don’t stand a chance with her, of course. You’re her little sister’s best friend, a whole year younger than her, and where she’s popular in school you tend to stick to the shadows. You’re not really picked on, per se — no one dares to when Yelena Belova, who’s terrifying in her own right as well as the little sister of Natasha Romanoff, is constantly glued to your side — but you just don’t have the same social standing that Natasha does. Even if by some miracle you did, she’s your best friend’s sister. You know she’ll never see you that way.
So you’ve decided to yourself you’re going to keep these feelings under lock and key, and pray they’ll go away.
And it’s been going pretty good!… well, that is, until tonight.
Alexi and Melina have flown back to Russia for the New Year, leaving the household in the hands of you, Yelena and Natasha. You and Yelena were perfectly content with spending your days of freedom ordering takeout, bingeing awful reality TV shows and annoying the cat for hours on end, but Natasha was having none of that. The Starks can’t hold their New Year thrasher at their house like normal this year (something about a sick aunt on bedrest? You weren’t really listening, to be honest), so with her parents out of town, Natasha’s offered up her house.
“I don’t want a bunch of gross sweaty drunk people in our house,” Yelena had protested when it was proposed to her, nose wrinkling. “это отвратительно. No.”
“Aw come on, please,” Natasha groaned. “It’s just one night.”
“But it’s not just one night, because we will be cleaning up for days after,” retorted Yelena. “Last time there was vomit everywhere. That was a zero out of ten experience.”
Natasha snorted. “What are you, TripAdvisor?” Dodging Yelena’s half-hearted smack, she’d added, “See, why can’t you be like Y/N? They don’t mind. Right, Y/N?”
Sure, she’d probably played you, but with those eyes who could say no to her?
Well, evidently not you. And because of it, you and Yelena are stuck spending New Year’s Eve locked in her (your) bedroom, her TV on at max volume to even be vaguely heard over the music that shakes the bed with every beat.
“О мой Бог, it’s not even midnight,” Yelena whines, checking her clock for the sixth time in the last ten minutes. “We are going to be dealing with this for hours. Natalia owes us one.”
“She’ll feel guilty tomorrow and take us to a drive-thru,” you tell her, and she sticks her tongue out at you instead of admitting that you’re right.
She opens her mouth to say something else (something witty and uncalled for, you’re sure), but she’s cut off by an abysmally loud crash and scream from downstairs, followed by even louder cheering. The look that crosses her face next just makes you very glad you’re not on the receiving end of her anger tonight.
“Liho,” you remember suddenly, “where is he? Did we pick him up before the party started?”
She pauses. “Oh, shit.”
“He’s still down there?” you panic. “Fuck, Lena, you know how much he hates noise. I’m gonna go get him.”
“No, let me,” Yelena protests, but you wave her off.
“No, because you’ll come back with a kill list twice as long as it is now,” you retort and she scrunches up her face at you, because as always with her you’ve hit the nail on the head. You blow her a kiss before closing the door behind you.
Immediately, you’re hit by the overwhelming stench of sweat and alcohol. Okay, ew. You’d practically begged Natasha to dilute the jet fuel that the Russians call vodka before distributing it, but evidently she’s not taken your pleas into account tonight. (You’re all going to pay for it tomorrow morning come clean-up time.)
At least the universe isn’t totally against you right now, though — the household’s cat, Liho, has one place he will flee to without fail whenever he’s scared; the tiny gap between the washing machine and the wall, in the laundry room. With any luck, you can sneak in and out of there through Melina’s office without encountering too many partygoers.
Getting down the stairs proves a task in itself; they are absolutely soaking for some reason, something must have been spilled on them, so thank god they’re hardwood and not carpeted. It’s like a slip and slide on your way down, and you cling onto the banister for dear life, your task only made more difficult by the tens of other people who have no regard whatsoever for your Mission Impossible-level task currently at hand.
Miraculously, you somehow make it to the bottom of the stairs unscathed, and immediately wince as you straighten back up. The noise down here is even louder, the smell even stronger, and you want nothing more than to flee back upstairs and cower under the bedsheets with Yelena until everyone finally fucks off home. But you remind yourself that if this is the way you feel, tiny flighty Liho probably feels even worse, and as his self-appointed cat mother (which you have been ever since you and Yelena rescued him from the roadside and brought him home), it’s your duty to rescue him.
So you battle your way on through to the laundry room, which thank the lord is empty. You close the heavy wooden door behind you with relief, and lean back against it for a moment, panting to recollect yourself. Jesus fuck, do you hate parties. You’re not even trying to be difficult, it’s just something you’ll never understand — they’re so overstimulating, so overwhelming. You always leave them with such a depleted social battery that you won’t be seen again for the next week. How someone can enjoy these things, you’ll never fathom.
You’re distracted from your inner monologue by the sound of gentle scrabbling, coming from behind the washing machine. An involuntary smile spreads over your face as you instantly clock what that noise is, and you approach slowly, dropping to a crouch.
“Hey buddy,” you say softly to the black fur vaguely visible among the shadows. Its gentle movements freeze, and the scrabbling noise stops. “This sucks, doesn’t it? All alone down here.”
He blinks at you.
”Yeah, it does, huh?” you continue. “What do you say we get outta here? You can come upstairs with me and Lena. How’d you feel about that, bud, huh? It’ll be much nicer, I promise. It’s so lonely down here, isn’t it?”
Convinced, the kitten wriggles out of his hiding spot and trots into your waiting arms. You scoop him up, planting kisses on his head and giggling.
“Good boy. Sweet boy. We got snacks in our room. You just love Twizzlers, don’t you?”
“He does love Twizzlers,” says a raspy voice from behind you, scaring the absolute shit out of both you and Liho. He yelps in alarm, and alarm at your alarm, digging his claws into your shoulder in a way that makes you hiss out loud. You spin around to see none other than Natasha behind you (she must have been in here before you closed the door, you vaguely piece together in your state of gay panic), red beer pong cup in hand, looking fucking beautiful.
You’ve avoided her as much as you can today while she’s gotten ready for tonight, reasoning with yourself that you’re only torturing yourself if you keep admiring her from afar, but holy fuck you can’t believe you were depriving yourself of this. A pale pink, almost nude dress, with silver blossoms settled comfortably on her hips in the way that your hands itch to be, and eyeliner that could fucking cut someone. But she’s smiling at you so softly that even the knife-sharp eyeliner smiles with her, and even though she just gave you the fright of your life you’re almost shaking with the restraint it takes to not go absolutely feral. She looks so good.
Oh lord, you are hopeless.
“You and him are just as bad as each other,” she comments, still smiling, so you know she doesn’t really mean it. Desperately scrabbling to cover for your internal screaming, you fake a pout, dropping a kiss on Liho’s head (he rubs his forehead gratefully against your cheek in return).
“That’s so mean,” you grumble.
“You look really pretty tonight,” she tells you, and your heart actually stops at the compliment. It feels like a trick for a moment, that she’d say something like that, but she’s still smiling a smile that makes your insides go all woozy.
“I really don’t think,” you begin, looking down at your outfit, but then pause. What with the top secret CIA-level mission that retrieving Liho has become, you’ve almost forgotten that before all of this you and Yelena had been playing dress up — strictly within the confines of your bedroom, of course, but you’re wearing one of Mama Melina’s old college dresses and it doesn’t look half bad on you, even though it now probably has Liho hairs all over it. You vaguely recall Yelena begging you to let her do your makeup (“pleeeease, Y/N, I swear I’ll be serious this time no more penises I promise”) too, so maybe it’s not such a reach that Nat actually thinks you look pretty tonight. “Oh. Thank you. S- so do you, I —” You forcibly stop yourself there, for fear of real embarrassment.
Her lips twitch in amusement at your antics. “Thanks.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, a moment of silence, and you figure you’d best take your leave before you inevitably embarrass yourself in front of the love of your life. You step toward the door which she’s still stood in front of, mumbling something unintelligible, but Natasha remains firm and simply raises an eyebrow at you as she sips from her solo cup. Literally everything she does is so insanely attractive that you have to bury your face in Liho’s fur for a moment and inhale in order to ground yourself properly. How can one person be so lovely? It’s just not fair.
“I should go back upstairs, Liho doesn’t like the noise,” you tell Natasha.
“You know, it’s nearly midnight,” is all she replies. “They’re about to start the countdown.”
You nod, tight-lipped. Even when it’s muffled through the thick wood of the laundry room the noise is starting to get to you now, and Liho won’t sit still in your arms either, and you want to get back upstairs to the warm safety of your bed and Yelena’s company and the shit Kardashians show you were watching, away from the girl who it’s as torturous as it is wonderful to be around.
“It’s a romantic thing for a lot of people,” she continues, and you have to look away at that. It’s almost as though she, or the universe is dangling the fact that she’ll never be interested in you in front of your face tantalisingly — like a carrot on a stick. “To kiss the one you love when the clock hits midnight, and the New Year rolls in. You got anyone to kiss this year?”
Okay, wow. Ouch.
“Liho,” you reply with as much humour as you can muster. “He is my one true love. Aren’t you, bud,” you add a few octaves higher, and he perks up, recognising that voice that’s for him. When you look back up at Natasha she’s studying you with amusement in her eyes, as though she knows something you don’t. You can hear the chanting beginning outside of the laundry room now, preparing to ring in the New Year; twenty… nineteen…
Still, though, Natasha makes no move to let you leave.
“Do you have anyone to kiss at midnight?” you ask her pointedly. “Cause you should probably get back to them.”
She downs the rest of the contents of her solo cup in one before slamming it down on the counter beside her. “Don’t need to,” comes her gruff reply, “they’re right here.”
Your jaw actually fucking drops at that statement, and your brain shortcircuits. What? Even though your heart skips a hopeful beat, you shake your head quickly to clear it of the idea that she could reciprocate these crushing feelings you harbour for her. Instead, you hold Liho out to her, hands under his armpits so that his hind legs dangle below him and he stretches to look comically long — as though you’re giving him to her like a present (which he sends you a very unimpressed for). “O— oh,” you stutter, “well if he’s your midnight kiss, is that why you were in here? I don’t want to —” twelve, eleven…
She actually laughs out loud at that, and bats Liho away. “Not him, дурачок. You.”
Her hands are cupping at the side of your face, and despite the absolute bizarre circumstances you find yourself leaning into her touch, desperate to memorise the feel of her warm calloused fingertips against your skin — seven, six; she looks down at you, the blue-green outlining her wide dark pupils framing a silent question. You’re in absolute slack-jawed disbelief, this has got to be a prank, it’s got to be — four, three — but she holds your gaze with a kind of certainty that surely can’t be summoned to fool someone. You nod a trembling, single nod, and her lips press against yours just as the clock strikes midnight.
Her lips are so soft, so gentle against yours. Your eyelids flutter shut; you can’t help it. She feels like heaven. She’s tentative at first, but when she can feel you reciprocating, her hands begin to explore a little; one moving to tangle itself in your hair, the other to your back and pulling you in closer to her. One of your arms is busy still cradling Liho close to your chest, but the other is free to trace along Natasha’s skin wonderingly as she continues her ministrations. Her leg slides between yours, forcing you backwards against the wall, where her kisses trail down your jaw for a moment before creeping back up toward your lips and returning to kissing them instead. When she nips gently at your bottom lip, you let out a noise you’ve never heard yourself make before, a kind of high-pitched whine in the back of your throat that makes Natasha laugh quietly as she pulls away for air. Liho, who was nestled comfortably between the two of you throughout the exchange, is purring merrily (“talk, Valentina!” as your friend Darcy would say).
She looks down at you for a moment, eyes wide and dilated, hair a little less perfect than before, panting slightly. She’s always had a few inches on you, ever since you were kids, and that’s something she often teases you for but right now the way she’s towering over you is so fucking hot. None of this can be real, you think to yourself hazily as she leans back in to plant one more kiss, much more chaste this time, against your lips.
“Happy New Year,” she says lowly to you; her voice is a little more broken and raspy than it was pre-makeout and it actually sends a shiver down your spine. And then she’s waltzing out of the room, leaving you absolutely shaking against the wall she was just pressing you against; your legs give up on you as you slide down against it to the ground, trying to catch your breath and understand what just happened.
Because what? 
You wake up the next morning to a house that’s thankfully empty, aside from its usual residents. You’re absolutely terrified that last night was some kind of dream, or it was a drunk mistake. You’ve never felt so vulnerable in your life. You’re right in the palm of Natasha’s hand and she has all the power in the world to absolutely break you right now. She could shatter you into a thousand irreparable pieces and leave you in the dirt if she so wanted to, and that thought is one that had you tossing and turning last night.
Yelena can’t for the life of her fathom why you’re so jittery this morning. You’ve told her fuck all, of course. What were you meant to say? Hey, sorry, last night your sister who I’m kind of a little bit in love with cornered me and we made out? No fucking way. When you came back to the bedroom last night all shaken up and wordless, she just assumed that the party atmosphere had been that overwhelming. You were very grateful for her gentleness with you as you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on, and what you were meant to do now. You tried to Google it, but it would appear that not many other people can relate to the situation that you’ve found yourself in (the best thing you could find were some decade-old Quora threads about being in love with your straight best friend, and the idea of Yelena being straight was so funny to you that you had to close the tab before your laughing woke her up), and you ended up being so worried about Yelena somehow seeing your search history that you cleared the whole thing, which definitely is not suspicious. 
“Hey,” Yelena slaps the back of your head playfully as she passes you, knocking you out of your trance, “it is a new day. Party is over, the house is ours, leave the miserableness behind in yesterday, да?”
You nod as you follow her down the stairs.
Natasha, to your surprise, is already awake, and seemingly not even hungover as she bustles around the kitchen, preparing something.
Yelena seems to read your thoughts, as she often does, and nods in agreement. “What, you are not curled up in bed with four million painkillers?” she asks incredulously as she slides onto a stool at the kitchen island.
Natasha shakes her head good-naturedly at her sister’s greeting, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling like an idiot as she continues to cook. “No. I feel good this morning, actually. Really good.” The smile bleeds through her words and takes over her face again.
You and Yelena exchange a look. What is… happening?
“You are being weird,” Yelena tells her, and smacks her over the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper as her older sister walks past her to grab the butter. “What have I missed, did you get laid last night or something?”
Your blood runs cold at that, and you have to look away from Yelena so she doesn’t see the way your face drops. Is that true? Did she kiss you and then sleep with someone else? No, she wouldn’t do that to you, surely.
Your thoughts (hopes) are confirmed when she snorts to herself and shakes her head, her back still to the both of you as she pours batter into a pan. “No. No, I just — I had a really good time last night. That’s all. Thanks for letting me have the party.”
You watch as Yelena’s eyebrows furrow, her eyes tracking every one of Natasha’s movements intently, and she tries to figure out what’s going on. You’re similarly perplexed. Natasha is the silent, stony older sibling, the watcher, the one who hears everything and knows everything but doesn’t often speak of her own accord. Last night in the laundry room was the longest exchange you’ve had with her in weeks (and that was before she kissed you). As a kid you would mistake this for shyness, but it eventually became clear that Natasha Romanoff is not shy. She’s very far from it, in fact. She’s just observant, and doesn’t feel the need to speak unless she has something to say. You have zero clue what she’s feeling or thinking half the time — her poker face is so good it’s unsettling. So this is a weird occurrence. You don’t think you’ve seen her as happy as this since… well, since the day she was brought home.
“Well, it is not as though we had much choice in the matter,” Yelena retorts humorously. “Don’t forget we are not cleaning up. That’s on you, сестра.”
“I know, I know,” Natasha grumbles playfully, placing a plate in front of each of you before sliding a pancake onto each of them, right out of the pan. “I owe you one.”
Yelena looks from the pancake to her sister, and back again. “What is this?”
“A chocolate chip pancake.”
“They’re heart-shaped,” you observe quietly.
“Well done for having eyes. If you don’t want them —”
“Nope, it’s good, thank you,” says Yelena thickly, and it’s already gone. You let out a noise of amusement as you eat in a more dignified manner, humming your approval. You don’t think Nat’s ever made you breakfast. It’s nice, though.
Yelena swallows, and leaps to her feet. “I think it’s a Kardashians marathon on TV today,” she informs you, pointedly ignoring the noise Natasha makes whenever that show is mentioned, and she dashes off into the living room. You are alone with Natasha, for the first time since last night.
The nerves from earlier are back, swelling up inside of you uncomfortably, and you do your best to casually avert your gaze from her as you continue to eat. You have no idea whether to bring up last night or to pretend it never happened. Just thinking of the latter makes your heart ache, but it’s becoming a more real possibility by the minute.
Seemingly indifferent to your internal struggling, Natasha slides a pancake onto her own plate and ruffles your hair as she passes you on her way to the fridge. You flinch at the touch, and she giggles.
“You okay?” she asks you teasingly as she pulls a container of raspberries out of the fridge.
You swallow, and nod, trying your best to not embarrass yourself this morning. “Y — yeah. Uh, can I have some?” You gesture at the tub of raspberries.
She pretends to think for a moment, taking slow steps back towards you, until she’s right in front of you — towering over you even more so than she usually does, since you’re still sat down. You look up at her, filled with something not dissimilar to awe. Even in the mornings, when she’s fresh out of bed and still half-asleep, she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. She places her spare hand on your thigh, with the other still holding the berries, and you think to yourself with absolute certainty that you could die happily in this moment.
“Mmm,” she says thoughtfully. “Beg me.”
Not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, your jaw drops. You look up at her, pleadingly, not even sure what you’re pleading for. Pleading her to go easy on you? Pleading her to stop? To keep going? But she’s unrelenting.
“Please,” you say eventually, quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please can I have some.”
Almost too quickly for you to process, her lips are pressing against yours. You gasp against her, every single emotion from last night swelling back up, with the added concern that Yelena is in the next room over. But she pulls away after a moment, winking at you as she retreats to her own seat, and as you raise a hand to your lips you realise that in kissing you, she’s left a berry between your lips. She laughs gently when she sees you openly staring at her, and the sound sets your whole body alight, the feeling only amplified by the fact that you’re the cause of her laughter.
Well, you wanted an answer and there’s not many ways to interpret that one.
And so begins your scandalous affair with your best friend’s sister.
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samandcolbyownme · 2 months
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Summary: I honestly can't think of a good summary for this, if I think of one by the end of the one shot, I'll change this, but if not, congrats, it's a surprise. 
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, sister's boyfriend cheats with reader, CHEATING, snobby twin sister, mentions of alcohol, flirting, kissing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, filth 
Going to give another warning, this story will contain mentions and actions of CHEATING - which I do NOT at all condone! Please be respectful with your people! This is just solely for the purpose of bringing spice to life of people who read this. This is all fake! There is nothing real about this. Enjoy. 
Word count: 5.2K | not edited 
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
You've always wanted to see your sister, Kelsie, happy. 
But seeing her with Jake really gets under your skin. It bugs the hell right out of you because as soon as she got whiff that you liked him, she, being the younger twin of course, got what you wanted first, and of course played it off like she didn't know. 
They've only been dating a few weeks, and within those few weeks, you found that there's just something about them that you can't exactly put your finger on. 
It was almost, weird. 
Kind of like they were putting on a show, or at least one of them was. 
But ever since Jake started coming around as 'Kelsie's boyfriend', you've changed, put on a facade, acting like it's all normal and that it doesn't bother you as much as it really does. 
But little do you know, Jake picked right up on that. 
You've known Jake for years, so to joke around with him and tease him and such were all normal to you and him. 
That was until the feelings started rolling in, and you thought it was best to just push them down, swallow them each time you caught glimpses of his beautiful face. 
Kelsie and Jake got up from the table, walking towards the doors. It's quiet for a few minutes until your friend nudges your arm, "Do you like him?" 
You shake your head, staring at the table before looking up at her, "I don't want to." 
She tilts her head, giving you a soft smile, "But you do?" 
You nod once, letting out a sigh, "I do." 
"How long?" She takes a sip of her drink and you raise your brows as you ball up a straw wrapper, "Long before Kelsie, I can tell you that right now." You toss it onto the empty tray and look over at her, "I don't understand how she found out?" 
"Wait, you think Kelsie is dating Jake because you liked him first?" She stares at you and you shrug, "She gets everything else that I like before me. What makes this situation any different?" 
Your friend laughs slightly, " You make a good argument, y/n. I remember growing up.. you said you wanted a soccer ball, she got one almost the next day." 
"It's that baby of the family bullshit." You laugh, "But I'm literally two minutes older than her. I don't-" you shake your head, looking down as Jake and Kelsie walk back in.
Your friend straightens up, "Find what you were looking for?" 
Jake laughs, "yeah, I got it." He sits back down, "y/n, Johnnie wanted to know if you wanted to join us for the next video." 
"What are you guys planning on doing?" You look up at him and he smirks, "Were going back to the Queen Mary." 
You raise your brows, "Seriously, what. Are you fucking nuts?" 
He shrugs, "Have you met me?" 
You laugh slightly, "Yeah, I think so. What day?" 
As Jake looks through his texts with Johnnie, Kelsie puts herself in the conversation, "What's the Queen Mary? Sounds fancy." 
"It's scary." You and Jake say at the same time. You smirk slightly, "They want to do a paranormal investigation." 
"You mean.. like.. ghosts?" She looks at Jake and he nods, "Yeah, ghosts." 
Kelsie swallows, "I'll go." 
You all look at her and she shrugs, "What?" 
You laugh, "Kels, you won't go to a haunted house that's fake. What makes you think you can go somewhere that's real?" 
She rolls her eyes, "I'll have Jake there to protect me." She leans over on him and he smiles slighting while nodding his head, "Thursday." 
He looks up at you and you look away from Kelsie, giving Jake a small smile, "Okay." 
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
It was the day before the investigation and you get a text from Jake, did I piss you off? 
You furrow your brows, bringing your phone closer so you can type, No?
You sit up, tilting your head as you try and think about who might have said something as you wait for a response back from Jake. 
Your phone vibrates and you tap the screen, eyes scanning over the message from him, Kelsie said that you weren't coming now because you have to make a YouTube video and I don't know it just sounded like a shitty excuse. 
You laugh to yourself, that's because it is. She doesn't like us being friends because- 
You delete the message, retyping it, I don't have a YouTube video to film. If it did, I'd push it. 
You toss your phone down, quickly grabbing it as Kelsie walks into your room, "Don't you know how to knock?" 
She laughs, "I help pay the bills." 
"So do I, and I pay for this, so-" you motion for her to get out, clutching your phone tight. You give in when you see she doesn't move, "Fine, what?" 
"So Jake told me to tell you that they're not going to the Queen Mary anymore. Johnnie got sick and he bailed and Jake doesn't want to do it without him." 
Hmm, that's funny, you think as you nod, "Oh okay. We'll I'll just text John-" 
She shakes her head, giving you a quick, "No. he's asleep. I guess whatever he has is bad." 
"Oh, well. Okay. I guess I'll just stay here and film a video or something." You look down at your phone, laying back as you read a text from Jake, I still want to go, but I don't want to go without you. 
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You can do that new makeup routine one that you've been saying about." 
"Well, if we're not going anymore, why don't we do that truth or drunk video? We have that new deck of cards from that PR package." You lay your phone face down on the bed and look at her. 
"I scheduled an appointment to get my nails done since we weren't going, so that's what I'm going to do." She shrugs, "Maybe tomorrow?" 
You nod, "That's fine." 
She walks out, not saying another word and you let out a huff as you sit up. You go back into Jake's messages and you smirk as you read over his new text, I cancelled so no worries. 
You laugh slightly and listen as you hear Kelsie on the phone with, who you assume is Jake, "I'll let her know. I know, I'm sad about it, too." 
She walks quickly past your room and goes into hers, closing the door before you can hear anything else. 
Later that day, as you're standing in the kitchen you hear the door open, "Hello?" 
Jake walks around the corner and smiles, "Hey Kels." 
You freeze, mind racing at a hundred miles an hour, He thinks I'm Kelsie? There's no way.
"I know I'm early." He says walking over to you. 
This is your moment, you think, fucking take it. 
"Hey, no it's okay." You smile and close your computer. You turn towards him but you're stopped from saying anything else by his lips crashing onto yours. 
You can be Kelsie. 
Your hands move to his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. He moves your laptop over, lifting you up to set you down on the counter. 
He pushes his way between your knees and slides you closer to the edge as he kisses down your necks. 
You tilt your head, breathing out, "Jake." 
His phone ringing in his pocket, cutting whatever this is short. He steps back, eyes on you as he takes his phone out of his pocket. 
You can't see the screen but he tells you that it's Johnnie. 
"Hey." He walks away, "No, I'm not busy, what's up?" 
You hear the front door shut and you're left sitting on the counter in complete confusion. You look around, trying to fathom what just happened, what you just did. 
"Oh my god." You slide down off the counter, grabbing your laptop before running to your room. You click on your friend's contact, instantly calling them. 
"Hello?" 
"I need to talk to you." You say quickly, pacing back and forth in your room. 
"Okay, do you want me to come over?" 
"No." You say quickly, "I'll come to you. I fucked up." 
"I'll leave the door unlocked." 
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"You pretended to be Kelsie?!" Your friend laughs, "I mean, I don't blame you. You liked him first." 
You groan, "Yes, but at the same time.. I broke a certain trust with Kelsie. Like, that's.." you sigh, "What if she finds out? What if Jake tells her? I can't just say sorry to her. When trust like that is broken, sorry means absolutely nothing." 
You stand up, pacing around the room, "I'm also very confused. Like why would he just.. he has to know who we are? Right? Like after a while he just.." 
"I don't know, Jake can be smart, but he can always be very stupid at times." Your friend laughs, "He couldn't have mixed you guys up. I can tell which one you are from behind." 
You bite your lip, "I'm gonna call him." 
Your friend sits up from their bed and shakes their head, "What if he's with Kelsie?" 
"You're right." You sigh, sitting down as you stare at your phone, "Fuck it. If they're together I'll just see if they want to do that truth or drink video." 
Your thumb hovers over the little phone icon before you tap it, taking a breath as you hear the line ring a few times on speaker. 
"Yellow." Jake says, a cheery tone to his voice, "What can I do for you?" 
"Are you with my sister?" You ask and he hums, "That depends. What are you calling for?" 
Your eyes go wide as you look at your friend who covers their mouth. 
"I'm, um. Calling to see if you guys want to do a video with me? A truth or drink video." You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
"I'm on my way to go pick her up now, I can see if she wants to do it later?" He says and you nod to yourself, "Yeah, I mean. That's fine. Just le-"
"That's not why you called me." 
His words cause a feeling of panic to rush through you, "Yes it was." 
"Mm. Are you sure? The tone in your voice makes it sound li-" 
You cut him off, "just let me know." You hang up and toss your phone away from you. 
"What the fuck was that?!" Your friend asks pushing your arm, "We were literally about to figure out if he meant to do what he did or not." 
Your phone vibrates and your friend holds it up with Jake's name and picture on the screen. 
"Just.. I can't.. okay. I just.." you sigh, grabbing it from her hand and answering it. 
"Hello?" You put the phone on speaker and Jake sighs, "What's going on with you?" 
"What do you mean what's going on with me?" You snap, "Sorry that.. came out meaner than I intended." 
Jake laughs, "You don't seem like.. you anymore? What's up with that?" 
"What do you mean?" You chew on your nail and he groans a dramatic groan, "You're going to be the death of me, y/n. What do you mean what do I mean?" 
"I don't.. know what to tell you, because I'm fine." You rest your fingers on your lips lightly, "I'm good. You're good. We're good." 
"Mm." Jake hums, "Alright, if you say so. I'll see you tonight." 
"Tonight?" You ask, slightly nervous and Jake laughs, "For truth or drink? I'm not giving Kelsie a choice. I want to hang out with you, too." 
You mouth 'I want to hang out with you, too.. what?' to your friend and they shrug, "Okay. I'm not home right now, but I'll go home and get everything set up." 
"Where are you?" He asks and you can hear the car go into park. 
"I'm at y/f/n's house." You answer and he is quiet for a minute, "Okay. Kelsie is coming. I gotta go." 
"Talk to you later." You sigh quietly and Jake laughs slightly, "Yeah, love ya."
You hear the three beeps and slowly look up from your phone to your friend. They're staring at you, "I need to to get my hearing checked because that sounded a lot like-" 
"I know." You cut them off. 
You stand up, tucking your phone into your back pocket, "Can you join the video with us?" Your friend nods, "Do I have time to get ready?" 
"You can get ready while I set up." You grab your keys and take a deep breath, "What the fuck is going on?" 
They rub your back, "I know it's hard, and it's going to be hard, but for now, just think of him as a dirty little secret." 
"Yeah, my beautiful, dirty little secret that won't eat me alive." You roll your eyes, laughing slightly, "What the fuck did I get myself into?"
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You walk into the house and it's quiet. 
"Kels?" You call out, looking back at your friend as you walk in, "You home?" You close the door and shrug, "I guess they aren't here yet." 
You walk to the room and set your stuff down. You sit in the chair and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. 
"Can I use some of your makeup?" Your friend asks and you nod while you pull your phone out, "Yeah, whatever you want." 
Your eyes scan over the text from Jake, I'm actually really exited to see you. 
"He just said.. I'm actually really exited to see you. What the fuck does that mean?" You tell to your friend, looking up as they walk into the room, "It means he's excited to see you." 
You groan, setting your phone down. 
"Answer him back." They motion to your phone and you sigh, "What if it's a trap? Sometimes when he's with Kelsie I'm half afraid that it's her setting me up." 
Your friend laughs, "I'm starting to think that there's really no mix up at all. He had to know that you were you." 
"Fine." You grab your phone, "But if Kelsie is setting me up, I'm moving to a remote island. I can't take the humiliation she'll put me through." 
Your thumbs tap the screen, I'm excited to film this video. 
"What did you say?" Your friend walks around and looks over your shoulder, "Really?" 
You shrug, "I didn't know what else to say?" 
"About what?" Keslie asks as she walks into the room, hand in hand with Jake. You lock your phone, setting it down in your lap, "Nothing." 
"Ooh." She smirks, "Got a little secret, hmm?" 
Your eyes move to Jake, "No. no secret." 
You watch as his eyebrow twitches and he fights back a smirk. You roll your eyes, "Let's just, get ready so we can make this video." 
You get up and walk to your room, your friend close behind, "Hey." They whisper, "You like totally did a three sixty. What's up?" 
You pull them into your room and close the door, "I'm just.. so confused by this whole thing. I don't even want to do this I don't know why I even said it." 
"Well they're here now. Can't really back out of it now." They shrug and sit down to do their makeup, "We can make it a quick one, just try and get her to tap out first." 
You sit down, "She'll pick right up on my games, y/f/n. I can't just-" you shake your head, "I'll talk to him when the time is right I guess." 
An hour into filming, you've already had to take a few shots, mainly for dumb questions. 
"Alright." You sigh, "my turn." You lean forward, slipping a card from the top of the deck, "If anyone in this room has had or has a secret crush, take a shot or reveal said crush to skip the drink." 
"My secret crush is that barista down the road." Your friend says with a laugh and you look over at them, "The blonde one?"  
They nod, "Oh yeah." They smirk and push their shot glass away, "I'm safe." 
You look at Kelsie and Jake, "Spill or drink, you pick." 
Jake smirks, filling his little glass, "Yeah, I'll just.." he takes his shot while Kelsie stares at him, "Um, okay?" She rolls her eyes, forcing out a laugh. 
"Who's yours, Kels?" Your friend asks and she smirks, leaning into Jake, "Jake of course." 
"Yeah that wasn't really a secret." You laugh and she looks at you, "What do you mean by that?" 
"Okay." Jake says, "Next question, y/f/n, you can go." He motions to the cards and your friend takes one off the top, "Mm. Okay. Would you hook up with your high school crush?" 
You immediately answer, "Oh yeah." 
Jake was your high school crush. 
"I would." Jake nods and looks at Kelsie, "Would you?" 
She sighs, "I mean, if i wasn't dating you and had the change.." she nods, "Probably. Yeah." 
Kelsie reaches up, taking a card. She giggles as she reads it, "what is the craziest thing you've ever done?" 
Your eyes go wide as a flashback of Jake putting you up on the counter flashes in your mind. You blink it away, straightening up as you look around pretending to think, "mm." 
"Craziest thing I've ever done was probably do that free fall thing, you know the thing that catches you by the net?" Your friend says and Kelsie gasps, "You really did that?" 
Your friend nods, "Oh yeah. I'd totally do it again." 
"I wanna do that." Kelsie looks at Jake, "We should go one of these days!" 
Jake nods, "Yeah, we can all go. Y/f/n said she wants to go again." 
You smirk slightly, covering it up with your fist, "I'm not adventurous enough to do anything crazy." You lie, "So I'll just.." you pour yourself a drink, knocking it back before setting down the glass. 
"I've done way too many crazy things, so I'll just take one." Jake laughs as he pours a shot. He tilts his head back, giving you a wink as you look at him before setting down his empty glass, "My turn." 
Another hour of question and you guys just drinking whenever you want later, you sigh, "I think this video is over." You laugh, "We have enough footage I think, who knows." 
Kelsie laughs, clearly drunk, "It's fine, sis. We can make it work." She reaches across the table and pats your hand with hers. 
She gets super lovey and nice when she's drunk, so that's how you know she's done for the night. 
"I think it's bedtime for Kelsie." You pat her hand and she sighs, "Nooo. I want music." She stands up, "Alexa, play today's pop hits." 
Greedy by Tate McRae comes on and she moves her chair, dancing and singing to the music. 
You look at Jake, "How do you deal with this?" He shrugs, looking from Kelsie to you, "I just.. do." He laughs slightly and stands up, "Alright, lady. Bed time." 
She lets out a whine as he pulls her towards the door.
You stand up, leaning over your friend to turn off the camera, "I'll edit this tomorrow, Alexa. Off." 
The song stops playing and you sit back down, "What do I do?" 
"I think, you should just talk to him." Your friend nudges you, "I'll keep watch in case Boozey McPlastered makes an appearance." 
You sigh, "Thank you." 
They nod, "Of course. You deserve the happy ended you wanted in the first place." 
You and your friend walk to the kitchen, still drinking up courage to come clean to Jake about everything. 
A little bit later you look from the hall to your friend, "I haven't heard anything in a while, maybe he fell asleep with her." 
"No he didn't." Jake says walking around the corner with a laugh, "What's going on here?" 
"Just.. having a casual conversation over some alcohol.. ya know girl talk." You laugh, completely loosened up from the shots and added drinks. 
"Ah huh." He says slowly, "I see. Well can I join, I mean." He clicks his tongue, "I am one of americas favorite ladies." 
You laugh, sliding your glass over, "You sure can." 
"Would you look at that." Your friend checks their phone, "I'm going to go to bed, in the guest bedroom.. in case you needed to find me." They walk away and Jake looks from them to you, "They're not very slick, you know?" 
"Yeah." You sigh, "I know." 
There's a few minutes of silence before you both talk at the same time. 
"So about-"
"So I ju-" 
You point, "Go ahead." 
Jake shakes his head laughing, "No, you go. Sorry." 
You sigh, "I don't even, actually know how to, or even what to say." You laugh slightly and Jake brings a hand up, twirling a piece of your hair, "You know what to do." 
Without thinking, you lean in, pressing your lips to his for a few seconds. You lean back, shock taking over, "I just.. I don't.." you stumble over your words and Jake starts to smile, "Do it again." 
You freeze, looking from his eyes to his lips, "Why?" 
He shrugs, licking his lips, "Because I want you to." 
"What about-"
He cuts you off, "I want you, wanted you all along. You just didn't seem like you wanted me, but since your friend told me that Kelsie is only with me out of spite because you liked me first.." he reaches out, hooking his thumb into the belt loop of your jeans and pulling you towards him, "..things have changed."
A smirk grows on your lips as you move to him, placing your hand on his chest, "You know?" 
He nods, "And just to confirm.." he smirks, looking into your eyes, "There's no mix up. I can tell you and her apart by your hands. I just wanted to test it, see if you'd kiss me back." 
"Well, doesn't seem like I will?" You smile and he nods, tilting his head as he slides his hand around to grab your ass, "Seems like you'll do a lot more, babe." 
Your heart feels like it's about to thump from your chest, "You have no idea." You move your head in, hands moving to tangle in his hair as you plant your lips on his. 
He bends down, lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist, and it's like earlier all over again. But only this time, he walks you to your room. 
He salutes your friend who's sitting on the floor by the guest bedroom, watching Kelsie's door. Your friend covers her mouth to not laugh and salutes him back. 
Thank you, you mouth quietly to them and they wave you off. 
Jake walks into your room, turning to quietly shut and lock the door. He walks you over to your bed, laying you down slowly as his body hovers over yours. 
Your lips reconnect, quickly leading into a hot, passionate, well earned make out. 
You moan quietly against his lips and he leans back slightly, "You gonna be quiet for me while I finally get a taste of you?" 
You nod, "Anything you want." 
"Well, I want you, but I think we've already been over that." He winks and brushes hair from your face, "Undress for me." 
He moves to stand up, discarding his clothes as you quickly take yours off. 
You lay back down, Jake moving up to peck your lips before kissing down your body. 
His head dips between your legs and his tongue drags upward between your folds. You arch your back, biting down onto your lip as his tongue moves to thrust inside of you. 
Your hands move to his hair, pushing down as your fingers tangle in his hair. 
You feel him groan lowly against you, digging his fingers into your hips harder as he pulls you to him. 
You knew it was wrong, but it feels so, so, so fucking nice. 
Jake glances up at you before attaching his lips to your clit. Your eyes roll back as the pleasured sensation washes through you. 
"Jake." You whimper out quietly, looking down at him. He slides a hand down around from your hip, dragging it under your thigh to slip two of his fingers into your wet cunt. 
You gasp, bucking your hips slightly as you breathe out a quiet, "s-shit." 
He curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out at a teasingly slow pace. 
You spread your knees farther apart, biting hard on your lip as your eyes lock onto his. He turns his head, planting gentle kisses on the inside of your thigh. 
He slowly pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his lips. You watch in awe as he licks them clean, enjoying every drop he can get from them. 
He moves back up, pushing his hips between your knees. His lips crash onto yours, his tongue sharing the flavor of your juices as it moves against yours. 
He groans lowly as the tip of his cock rubs against your center, "I've never needed anything as much as I need you wrapped around my cock right now." 
You roll your hips, voice quiet and slightly desperate, "Please, Jake." 
He reaches down, guiding his cock steady as he pushes the head of his cock into you. 
You gasp, "oh my-" 
Jake lays his hand over your mouth, "Gotta be quiet babe." He watches as you nod before resting his forehead against yours, "Fuck." 
He slowly pulls out, thrusting back in slowly. His voice is deep, quiet, "You feel so good." 
Your arm slings around his neck, legs around his waist. His hand still over your mouth, muffling your moans as his thrusts build up to a quicker pace. 
He moves his hand to replace it with his lips. Your lips move in sync as your nails drag up his back. 
Nothing makes sense right now, but at the same time it feels so nice to finally get what you wanted for a change. 
You lay a hand on his cheek, moaning quietly as you feel close, "D-don't stop." You whimper out, "I'm so close." 
You squeeze his cock with your walls, earning a groan from him, "Fuck." He kisses down your neck, biting and sucking a hickey onto your skin. 
You didn't care at this point. 
If he was going to be your dirty little secret, you were going to have to lie anyway, right? 
You pull him closer, digging your nails into his skin as you finally let go, biting down on your lip as you cum around his cock. 
Jake places his hand over your mouth, muffling the moans you can't hold back. 
"That's it." He whispers, planting a kiss to your forehead, "Do you feel good?" 
You move your eyes to look up at him, nodding as much as you can. 
"Good. Roll over for me." He pulls out, moving to rest back on his calves as he watching you roll over onto your stomach. 
He leans down, one arm by your head to support himself as his cock is re-welcomed by your walls, "So fucking good." He moves down to his elbow, sliding his other hand over to lay it on your neck. 
He gently squeezes as he whispers in your ear, "So who was your high school crush?" 
He already knows the answer to that. You wouldn't have answered as fast as you did if it wasn't him. 
"You." You breathe out, "Fuck, Jake it was you. Always you." 
He groans lowly, nipping at your ear as he holds his cock still, "You're gonna make me cum." He laughs slightly, "I kind of don't want to do that yet." 
You nod as he dips his head down to kiss your shoulder, "kind of don't wanna pull out either." 
"So don't." You whisper, not even fully sure of what you said. 
It was an in the moment kind of thing. 
"You don't want me to?" He slowly starts to thrust again and you shake your head, "not really." You turn your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. 
He kisses your cheek, "Now it's really tempting." He leans up, grabbing your hips as he thrusts in and out. 
You lay your head down, biting down on the pillow so you don't sound too loud, "Fuck. Fuck." 
Jake reaches down, grabbing a handful of your hair, tilting your head back slightly and you resume biting down on your lip as you fight to control your moans. 
"You're so hot." Jake groans lowly, "Feels so. Fucking. Good." 
You gasp, clenching around him as you cum once more, laying a hand over your own mouth as you allow the pleasure to consume you. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and he pauses, allowing his cock to twitch and spill inside of you. 
He lets go of your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder, "You okay?" 
You turn your head, nodding, "I'm okay." You smile as you lift yourself up. Jake moves, looking around before he grabs a towel off your chair. 
You clean up, sitting up to slip your shirt back on, "I hate to be this girl, but what does this mean?" 
"For us?" He asks getting dressed, "Well, I think it means that I want to be with you and I have to find an easy way to let your sister down." 
You nod, running a hand through your hair, "Yeah." 
Jake's moves to sit next to you, "What's up?" 
"I just.. everything feels like it's a mess.." you lean into him, "But everything also feels so right when it comes to you." 
Jake tilts your chin up, looking down at you, "It's going to be you and me, like it should have been from the start. Okay?" 
You nod and he presses a kiss to your nose, "I promise." 
"She's going to lose it, might even hate me when she finds out that you left her to be with me." You laugh slightly, "I just.. a part of me feels bad but at the same time.." you sit up and look at Jake, "It feels so fucking good." 
He pulls you onto his lap, hands sliding down to your waist, "Which part feels so fucking good exactly." You smile as he lays back, "If you have time, I can just show you." 
He raises his brows, "I like the sound of that." 
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
I genuinely feel like this one fucking sucked for some reason, I struggled to write it. But as always, let me know how you liked it, ilysm thanks for reading. 
Like and reblogs are appreciated 🖤
Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini @666-gothic-bat-666 @udonknowmeh12 @inside--her--fantasy @btaekookies
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maythearo · 1 year
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" Welcome back to Night Raven College's "Ghostly Gossip"! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "
" now introducing our second student entry for the blog... 'some guy I found on my grandma's attic'-- huh..? Wait, who wrote that down?? "
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Navigation:
R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver
Messy (but progressively getting better) design notes:
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Epel was one of those designs that just clicked instantly with me, I had a vision of the basics I wanted all sorted in my head even before I gathered most reference pics. I don't expect this to happen again to a majority of the remaining cast though 😫
Watching those doll restoration/repainting videos while drawing helped me set the general mood I wanted for him, even though the final result doesn't show much of this inspiration, at least in my opinion... I love the makeup and face painting details these artists put on the dolls, but I was afraid too much of that would make his design too heavy-looking combined with the rest of the outfit. If I ever decide to design alternative outfits for this series, I'll try to show off more of this lost aspect there
For the character in itself now, I imagine him in this AU to be more free to do and act however he wants compared to his og universe counterpart. Still being supervised by Vil, but not in the same level as before. Probably the reason why he got all those scratches and cracks on his body, I like to think he's having a little more fun with being a gremlin and running around all he wants lol. And due to that, his skin care routine baisically consists in Elmer's glue, to stick any broken porcelain shards together. Vil is not exactly content about that, but he lets most of it slide at this point 👍
Epel's totally the type of kid who goes around the gardens to casually collect bugs like he's in animal crossing. Like this video I found on reels, which I don't reccomend watching if you have a phobia of spiders/insects/bugs/snakes/frogs/etc cause, you know. But anyway I think MH Epel holds this exact energy and it's- kinda terrifying! In a good way though. come on let this kid be a kid for once. I also think this more playful part of him fits well with the fact that he's a little doll. OH and the fact that og Epel grew up around the elderly back in his hometown kinda makes sense in this universe too, like, he's the type of doll some grandparents would keep in their old house as a family relic or something. Could very much be the beggining of a horror story.
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