#and letting kids tidy up their rooms too. because it allows them to have their own safe space according to their liking yet still know how

[catgirlreisuwa]

One thing I can say with almost absolute certainty is that by the time she grows up, Miri will have acquired essential life skills if they continue to allow her to participate in household chores such as doing laundry and cooking (they should get her something to stand on and child-safe knives and stuff but idk) like these activities will help her to develop autonomy and clean, healthy habits. Anyway what I’m saying is that it is so so so good to teach children independence and autonomy (within their limits obviously) so that they can take care of themselves when they grow up and don’t have to Google things like “how to do laundry” or “how to cook X” or “how to fix a toilet sink” etc. so good on the daddies for allowing her to participate in housekeeping so far.

[seuonji]

彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan

part 1 ๑ part 2 ๑ part 3

notes ๑ daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?

genre ๑ fluff, new interest.

warnings ๑ none

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

it was a hectic but fun shift at your daycare job. the kids love you and you equally got along with them. your coworkers reasoned that it was because of your youthfulness that made working with them a breeze and you couldn’t disagree.

there was just 5 kids left and it was nearing the hour that would mean you’re working overtime but you didn’t mind.

the kids played with the toys around the room but you had just tidied up the place so they made sure to not make too much of a mess.

just as you were about to settle down on the floor, the doorbell rang signalling a parent was there. you instantly got up and chuckled at the way you didn’t even get to touch the floor.

you took a look to the glass entrance door to see who was there and usually you’d be able to recognise the parent/guardian but you have never seen this person ever. you looked over the kids in the room and back to the door. “i’ll be back okay, stay here,” you instructed to the kids who gave a sweet nod.

at the entrance stood a tall, lanky man. you couldn’t tell what his age could be but if you had to guess, he was probably your age or a bit older. he had hair that framed his face well and he was definitely someone that could brag about his looks. his appearance made your heart flutter.

often when you couldn’t recognise someone, you’d fear that this was a complete stranger, could be be those kidnappers but you didn’t get those vibes from him. or was it the pretty privilege?

you pressed the button which unlocked the door and he stepped in, “hi, i’m here for choi yuna,” he kindly spoke and shot a smile that could kill.

despite the looks that could sway you, you were hesitant. yuna was choi seungcheol’s daughter. you knew seungcheol was a busy man. he ran a big company but he never failed to pick up his daughter. plus he dropped her off in the morning and didn’t mention someone else would be picking her up which made this suspicious.

“im sorry, i need to know if you’re allowed to pick her up, how do you know her?”

“sorry! forgot to introduce myself, i’m yoon jeonghan, seungcheol’s secretary, he would've came but his meeting ran long so he sent me to pick yuna up.”

you were still unsure, you weren’t gonna take any chances for a case to happen, “can i make a call to seungcheol first?”

jeonghan let out a husky laugh, “you’re careful huh? what if i just showed you a picture of me and him together?"

“that won’t be enough.”

“alright but if you’re gonna call him, he’s could still be in his meeting i think your call will just be transferred.”

you already had your eyes on your phone but gave him a look as he said that. you still made the call and it instantly connected. “yn? is everything okay?“ the man on the other line opened with concern in his voice.

“hi mr.choi! yea, i just wanted to confirm that you sent someone else to pick up yuna?”

“ah- yes, im so sorry i just got out my meeting if i was the one to come yuna would still be there so i sent jeonghan. don’t worry, he’s a trusted friend! sorry for not letting you know.”

“no worries, just wanted to make sure,” you quietly sighed with relief. you said goodbye and ended the call. you stared at your screen and there was a loud silence for like 2 seconds until you closed your phone and lowered your head to the secretary, “sorry for making a hassle.”

he gave a sympathetic smile and waved his hands, pushing you back up, “no, don’t be! you’re just doing your job, it’s good your keeping these children as safe as you can. i’m glad you’re being this careful, if anything, if you weren’t so cautious i probably would’ve told seungcheol to find a new daycare.”

he was surprisingly nice.

“thanks,” you couldn’t hold back your grin. “um, i’m going to go get yuna.”

he nodded and you walked to the fence which led to the section of the room to the kids were in. jeonghan peered over and his eyebrows instantly rose. he didn’t know there were still children there. he got shocked that the kids weren’t checking if their parents were there. they were just sitting in a circle, playing and sharing the toys. usually they would be hoping the parents are here right? why weren’t they checking?

but jeonghan saw the way their face lit as you walked towards them. perhaps the environment was that good he thought to himself.

you held yuna’s hand and walked to the exit.

“i don’t want to go yet yn!” yuna clamoured. you softly laughed, “you’ll come back tomorrow.”

jeonghan silently watched you in confusion. were you an angel or something? kids love it when their parents are here, if anything, they cry at the absence of their parents right? yet someone like yuna who’s close their parents is clinging onto you.

“yuna!” jeonghan called out.

“uncle?” yuna beamed and ran to the older man, her height allowing her to only hug his legs.

jeonghan bent down and patted her head, “dad can’t make it so i’m here but we’ll see him in a bit okay?”

yuna nodded signing she understood. “did you bring your bicycle?” she asked with wonder in her eyes.

“bicycle?” jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows.

“the one you always come to my house with!” yuna hinted.

the man was left puzzled but also mildly embarrassed at the possibility that you’s think he uses a bicycle to get to places, “yuna, what bicycle?”

“the loud bicycle!”

“a motorcycle?” you chipped in.

“ahh—,” he did have a motorcycle. he was stunned and wondered what you thought of him— but actually, why does he care what you think.

jeonghan recollected himself, “your dad wouldn’t let me but hey, the car waiting for us outside has a tv!”

yuna was notably convinced the car was better especially with the way she hopped and cheered. you giggled at the way he changed her opinion so easily.

jeonghan stood up and held yuna’s belongings, “guess we’re good to go, say thank you to yn yuna.”yuna jumped to give you a hug and jeonghan waved a goodbye. soon, the two walked out.

you closed the door and deeply exhaled. you placed your hand over your chest yet your heartbeat couldn’t slow down. there was something about that man.

jeonghan looked back at the daycare’s door. he thought of the way his heart beated twice more than usual since he walked through that door.

was it you or the 5 sugars he put in his coffee that afternoon?

he shook his head and laughed after recalling the measures you went through to make sure he wasn’t a kidnapper or something.

“do you like yn yuna?” jeonghan turned to her. “why?” yuna dragged her words at the end. jeonghan inhaled stiffly forgetting about how yuna was in her ‘why’ phase. “just asking, so do you enjoy yn’s company?”

“of course! they're really nice! they always play with me and one time they bought me stickers!" jeoghan knew which stickers yuna was talking about. it was pasted somewhere in seungcheol's office and jeonghan made fun of him for it. his heart warmed at the way you seemed to be a genuinely good person. he’s known you for a few seconds but though your actions first impression, he could tell you were someone worth meeting and he liked people like that.

he really couldn't tell why but for some reason, he wanted to be the one to pick up yuna tomorrow.

luckily for him, he’s the secretary and he can manipulate his boss’s’ schedule however he’d like to.

[russellsppttemplates]

Bet you there's gonna be another kid (or at least a scare) after that win today! Lando Norris is a race winner, babyyyyy!

Note: I was all over this the minute you sent it in! 👀 I'm leaving the ball in your corner because I'm a sucker for dad!driver (and dad!Lando has been keeping my mind busy), so I want your input too! Lando is one of four...

Cw: pregnancy symptoms, implications of smut

"Behave well for Nana, okay?", you gave the kids your best attempt at a smile as you watched them go with Cisca for the afternoon.

You woke up feeling a lot worse than you were yesterday, which wasn't a great place to begin with. Lando insisted he wanted to fully take care of you, and when his parents offered to look after the kids, he couldn't refuse it.

"Lovie, I really think you should get checked by a doctor", Lando offered as he run his fingers through your hair, "this is not looking good".

"I have never felt like this, even when I was pregnant, it wasn't this bad, I-", you stopped yourself, making the math on your head and checking the date on your watch, "it has been more than six weeks since Miami, hasn't it?", you gulped.

"Yes, it has, nearing seven actually", Lando stated, "Oh!".

The frenzy of the celebrations and the fact that the kids were with Lando's parents for the night, allowing you to go out and enjoy yourselves, crawled its way up for both you and Lando, and on the way, it may have left you to your own devices without any protection.

"Do you think you're pregnant?", Lando bit his lip, "because I spotted a test when I was tidying the bathroom the other day", he nudged your arm.

"We did it a couple of times that night, plus that one in the car and the one in your room that morning", you mused, "there were a lot of times where it could've happened", you reasoned, "Let me go and take the test", you offered, getting up and heading to the bathroom to do your business.

"Just a couple of minutes left", you said, letting your husband hold your body against his, kissing your forehead multiple times, "are you okay?", he asked.

"Yes", you replied, "are you okay?".

"I am, yes", he said, sealing it with a kiss on your lips as his hands rubbed your sides.

The timer beeped and you grabbed the plastic test, "Lando, look!", as you showed him.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

If you were to be roommates with any of the NRC boys, who would you wanna be roommates with? Who would you not want to be roommates with?

Ooh, what a fun prompt 😂 I’ll split them into categories and then comment on my reasoning for them! (I’m responding for myself, not for my OC by the same name confusing, I know)

Side note: I know this question was limited only to the NRC boys but for funsies I’m going to comment on Neige, the Dwarves, Chenya, and Rollo who are also students 😂 just at different schools… Let me have this—

Absolutely NOT

♥️ — I would drop kick this kid the moment he starts to mouth off to me 😤 I also don’t trust him to not pollute our shared spaces with Axe body spray. Ace is basic enough to do that.

🦈 — Not a fan of people who flake on me or act fickle. It would be a massive inconvenience if Floyd promised to do something (for example, cleaning or making dinner for us roomies) but didn’t because he suddenly “didn’t feel like it”. I’d be forced to pick up after him or to change my schedule to accommodate, and that can very easily annoy me. Plus, if his own room in the game is of any indication, he doesn’t seem very tidy… @.@

🏹 — Too extroverted. I don’t want to be greeted with his dumb ol’ smiling face or French/j when I come home every day. I’d also live in fear of him watching me sleep at night or him just reciting details about me that he shouldn’t reasonably know (clothing sizes, what I did while I was out, etc.)

👑 — Look, I don’t want to deal with paparazzi or crazy fans following Vil home or something. That’s too much stress for me to take. On top of that, there’s nothing stopping an idiot reporter from printing shady gossip about Vil’s roomie being his secret lover… which could, in turn, attract hate from his followers. Please let me just live without worrying about this.

🦇 — MAN LIVES LIKE A HOARDER 😭 There are other characters with messy rooms, but Lilia literally has tons of miscellaneous stuff everywhere... Living with him also means I have to do the bulk of the cooking or risk playing gacha with my life when Lilia's allowed to be in the kitchen. Not only that, but I'd likely be spooked by him dropping on in at random times of the day--I don't think my heart could take it. Too much trouble for me to deal with on a daily basis.

***Bonus: Neige*** — Same reasoning as Vil. I’m sure he’d be cute and peppy + help out with the chores a la Snow White, but I still don’t want to deal with the stress of living with a celebrity and having to deal with potentially super parasocial fans coming at me just for the association.

***Bonus: The Dwarves*** — … I’m not running a daycare here 🤡

I’ll tolerate them

♦️ — Cater avoids being on my shit list as long as he doesn’t start begging me to be in his selfies and twisted Tiktoks or to do internet challenges with him. I’ll tolerate him if he gives me free food he got for pics but doesn’t feel like eating because it’s not to his tastes.

🦁 — Judging from how Leona has Ruggie doing a lot of his housework 💦 I feel like I'd also have to do the bulk of the housework to make up for what Leona doesn't do... Aside from that, I think I could tolerate his personality pretty alright??? I can force him to play tabletop games with me :v and get free veggies off of his plate... (He can have my extra meat, too much protein makes me feel sick.)

☀️ — With his kind of wealth, I don’t need to worry about Kalim paying his share of the rent and for shared items (in fact, he’ll probably just buy everything for us both) 😭 but I wouldn’t like Kalim always inviting a shit ton of people over to party… Another major con is that he probably needs to be taken care of since Jamil or other servants usually fulfill his every need, and I’m NOT about that. Him paying for everything somewhat balances out these grievances, but I have pride to maintain and I don’t want to 100% live off of someone else’s money.

🍎 — Nothing overtly offensive about Epel immediately comes to mind, but if this is pre-book 5 Epel then I don’t want to deal with his toxic masculinity. I could leech free apple products off of whatever his family sends.

💀 — I just KNOW this nerd would be up gaming late until like 3 am and loudly raging as he does it, but I'm a pretty heavy sleeper so I think I could put up with it (not that I want to, only if I have to). Idia wouldn’t be that much of a bother to me during the daytime (he probably just holes up in his room anyway)... And hey, free gaming partner, tech consultant, and someone to watch anime with (and then we can argue about who the best character is).

⚡️— Sebek is punctual and loud, so he's useful to have as an alarm clock (I have a tendency to sleep in). He can do laundry, move heavy furniture, and (most importantly to me) brew tea, all things which contribute to the household. But I swear, I SWEAR, if he opens his mouth to tell me why I should like Malleus, I'm going to move out ASAP.

***Bonus: Chenya*** — Chenya definitely feels like the kind of roomie that eats the food you left in the fridge and then claims he has no idea where it went (while there are incriminating crumbs around his mouth). His UM also has potential to make me feel uneasy in the same space (like… he could be anywhere x.x). The only reason I’ll tolerate rooming with Chenya is because he’s a cute cat boy.

Acceptable

🌹 — Riddle’s just... okay. I can see myself getting irritated whenever he's being a stickler about certain rules being followed or things having to be done a certain way (since I hate being told what to do). Then again, I'm also a stickler for certain things (like no outdoor shoes inside the house; always wear house slippers instead). If we can compromise and avoid shouting (assuming this is post-book 1 Riddle), that would be great. If it’s book 1 Riddle… yeah, I’m tiptoeing around him and/or he gets lowered into “Absolutely NOT”.

♠️ — Nothing that notable about Deuce or how he lives, he’s just not a very strong contender for what I’d like in a roommate. Phone calls to his mom aren't so long or so frequent that they'd be an annoyance.

🐙 — Pro: Azul does all the math for us when it comes to the bills. Saves me a lot of hassle. Con: he’ll ask for compensation for every little thing he does. It balances out, I guess.

🐬 — As much as I'd love to have a live-in butler, I don't trust Jade for one second to not be plotting something behind my back. Sure, he's polite and does all the usual malewife things, but I never know when this man has slipped a new breed of mushrooms into dinner to test the effects of its consumption on me (BRO DID THIS DURING MASTERCHEF AND I'LL NEVER LIVE THAT DOWN). Jade also seems like the type of roomie to smile to your face but shit talk you when you're not around 🤡 It's fine, I'm a masochist so I'll let it happen/j

🐉 — I mean. He's acceptable as a roommate, but Malleus feels like the kind of person you rarely even see in the apartment??? And whenever he does show up, you're shocked that you've spotted him. That means I'd basically have the place to myself for most of the time, which is great for an introvert like me.

Omg pls

🐆 — Ruggie’s got tons of experience looking after Leona, I’m sure those skills will transfer over nicely to rooming with me. I guess my only concern here would be fighting with Ruggie over small savings (like maybe a spare coin or the last of the leftovers), because we’re both frugal and want to hoard whatever he can get our grubby little paws on.

🐺 — Jack keeps to himself and wouldn’t bother me 😌 Good boy!!

💤 — He’s quiet when he’s awake and/or half asleep (and honestly, what a mood). Silver would be such a peaceful roomie… plus, all his woodland creature friends basically provide free animal therapy. Since Lilia often left Silver home alone while he embarked on worldly travels, Silver’s already got experience in homemaking and a willingness to pitch in.

🐱 — Grim is this high up only because he is cat-shaped and therefore he is basically a Real Cat. He is my pet now. I will feed him and bathe him and take good care of him. If he shreds the furniture or sets it on fire though, he’s being put in time out.

***Bonus: Rollo*** — Listen, think of the entertainment value of this 😳 Rollo would be that roommate that looks very collected and unassuming, but every so often goes on these outrageous rants once his anger is stockpiled and he can’t contain it anymore. I’d sit there listening to him go off about how magic is evil, how we’d all be happier without it, etc. And like… while I don’t necessarily agree with his rhetoric, the complete character shift to being unfiltered and unhinged is just so fascinating to observe. (… Oh yeah, and Rollo would be pretty good at cleaning since NBC students as fastidious about that kind of thing.)

You’re my new best friend

♣️ — If you give me free food then I will love you forever and ever. Trey gives free food. Therefore, I suddenly love Trey. Jokes aside though, I do see him as someone who has his shit together and wouldn’t stir the pot. He’d do his fair share of chores (including the cooking) and doesn’t have an abrasive personality that would make it difficult to be around him. Bonus, I can ask him for free dental hygiene advice and we can geek out about teeth together.

🐍 — Jamil has a similar domestic skillset as Jade, but the difference is that Jamil doesn’t go out of his way to deliberately cause problems or to enable others to act out. If I let him do his own thing and don’t get on his bad side, I think Jamil would be respectful to me as well. I’ll be happy to eat any of his delicious cooking 🤤 and in return, I’ll be his bug slayer—it’s a good deal!!

🤖 — It’s like having all of the household tools you need in one, plus a security system and a new little bestie 😌 I’d trust Ortho with my life 💕 We also save on the food and water bill since he doesn’t need those things to function, just electricity every so often to charge!

[prof-peach]

Yknow what I don’t ever get to dive into this one, so for my own holiday fun, let’s elaborate on the ranger AU:

The girls are room mates, rivals for a long while, the tape line that divides their shared space like a battle zone.

Plum is obsessively neat about her books but otherwise is chaos, clothes everywhere, shoes scattered. Bed is about the only thing she makes and keeps clear to sit and work, desk is a mess of research notes and dog eared manuals. Her dratini is utter chaos, unruly doesn’t even describe how Missy is. Plum was raised in a very well off household but her family never came home, work keeping them almost completely busy. This leaves one girl who knows what she’s all about because she had to figure it out, plum is just as wild and chaotic as her Pokemon in her own snooty kind of way. Very particular teenager.

Meanwhile peach has never been allowed to be a kid, she was told what to do and when to do it, hobbies we’re chosen for her, free time used up working hard, training harder, her Pokemon just as pushed to keep up standards. The prodigal daughter put on a pedestal has nothing but pressure from day one. She doesn’t listen to music, have toys or hobbies, even her clothes are plain and not really things you’d fully expect a teenager to wear. She had to just go with her family always pushing her to do what they want and be who they expected. Failure was not met well. Her personal space is painfully tidy, purely because she doesn’t really have much to fill the space at the start. Val is volatile at best, but Bob keeps his sunny disposition, often out in the dorm room happily.

Plum soon realises peach has not developed a personal taste of her own, and cannot understand how that just never happened. So begins her task of getting peach to find things she likes and enjoys. None of her skills sound like things that excite her, peach is this dead pan teenager with no fire for anything. Her hot head rears up when she’s backed into a corner, so when pushed too hard peach snaps, she doesn’t know what she’s suppose to like or do, out of her family home she can only sit and watch others and try to assimilate quietly. A skill she’s quite good at, so most just assume she’s cold and distant by nature, an angry face leading to most leaving her alone.

Plum proceeds to open up a whole world of things for a teenager who never got the chance to just exist without an objective. Music, junk food, staying up late to play games or gossip. They sneak out to town, maybe they steal some overly sweet awful booze, maybe they hide it in their dorm to stay up and talk some nights. Plum gets peach to pick clothes she wants, tries to encourage her to care about anything noticing she’s got piercings, so like…punk?? Is that her thing? No clue, but it’s the total opposite to plums sporty preppy cute outfits, so together they look like night and day.

Their initial arguing and dislike of each other eases off fast, peach realises that maybe not everyone is so awful, and that she’s been stuck with a highly intelligent if not a little scatter brained girl who actually encourages her to live, not just simply exist. It is tentative steps into realising she is more than the weight of her family name.

Other dumb teenager things: peach pierces plums ears for her. Ranger team work tasks that the girls smash through. Late night dorm activities with the other students, you know, typical junk like spin the bottle and such.

Plum 100% is cocky and straightforward during a party and makes sure peach never lives down that she stole the grouchy girls first kiss, etched into her memory forever.

Peach realising “oh no. Very very not straight. Oh no.” To which she’s in deep denial and horrified, because her family CANNOT find out. Seeing as her mom likes to dig through her memories from time to time, peach is utterly terrified to go home.

Plum seeing her roommate return from a weekend back at her family house looking more exhausted and worn out than when she left. Never asks why, never pries, tries to be cheery and help peach not feel so crappy. Peach can’t ever tell her what she’s done, or the guilt she’s carrying around, and as they grow closer, it becomes harder to lie.

Then Booker happens, where the story line splits from canon to the ranger AU. Instead of peach taking the little mon and running, leaving plum without more than a ‘sorry’ and an old bangle on the dorm door handle, she instead cracks, can’t hide the truth anymore, packs up to leave, but can’t go without telling someone, anyone that she’s been a monster, and has to change. Has to do better than she had before. Through tears and drama the truth comes out, plum learns it all, and sees her best friend with a bag on her shoulder, running away.

Through a convincing speech and an understanding and grounded view on the situation plum gets peach to stay, with her, with the rangers, they’ll face it together. For once peach does not want to feel so alone, everything she’s ever done has been singular, even though she’s been surrounded by people pulling her strings, it’s never been because of care or love, just progress. ‘The family comes first’ echos in her mind, and she has to stop this cycle. So peach stays, is deathly afraid her family will hurt plum for getting involved, she hardly sleeps for a while, making sure the night is safe, that no one’s trying to tamper with the path she’s trying to stay on. A good one. A kinder one with less bloodshed.

Plum encouraged peach to take up boxing, for her anger, so she joins a club and finds a love for it. The gains begin, and plum is at every fight, shouting from the side lines. Peach loses a few and takes it really badly. Loss in her family is usually cause for punishment, for isolation or consequence. She expects the same from plum, shocked when it never comes. Her partner is nothing but worried bout the bruises, but seems very encouraging. This is not what was expected.

Plenty of later year teenage shenanigans. Usual suspects, figuring out things like future career options, sexuality, the parties, sneaking out, stress over exams, first hangovers, smoking a little pot after handing in final coursework as a celebration. Peach finds herself, but both girls find a family in each other. Thick as thieves, forever entangled in each others memories now.

The girls grow as rangers, have a few run ins with peach’s cousins but otherwise are left with only a few scars, scrapes and bruises, and eventually they graduate, top of their class none the less. The powerhouse duo that others couldn’t compete with.

Plums become the agile ranger she was meant to be, strategist, a woman who knows every option before you even take your first move, but she lacks practical instinct and brutality, which is peach’s area of expertise. It’s head and heart at it’s most perfect balance.

————————————————

I have so many little headcanons bout this alt set up, but I’m tired, it’s the holidays, and I wanted to blurt this one out. Sorry to all for putting up with me haha

Give me peach gut laughing for the first time and plum realising she’s totally mad for this person.

Give me ranger prom/graduation where they both dress up and get to sneak off and dance together.

Give me chaotic but perfectly drift compatible fights with them and their Pokemon.

Give me prank wars, makeup help, hair style tests, bad hair dye attempts, pizza hang outs.

Give me plum learning how to train Missy well with peach’s help.

Give me adoptive momma bears for Booker.

Give me them laughing so hard one of them nearly throws up at something so stupid and dumb.

Give me the moment that penny drops and they realise they can’t move forward without each other.

I am thriving on this.

[tunaababee]

we will be everything we say - Chapter 2

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 2.1k // updates Mondays (aest)

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chapter 2: eleven and twelve

School had finished about two hours ago and Feyre was pacing around the house, tidying up and trying to do as many chores as she could to make sure she stayed on her dad’s good side. Today, like many days and nights before it, Rhys was staying over and she didn’t want to possibly jeopardise it because of something as simple as her room not being clean. The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours as she kept trying to find more to do - she was never a patient girl, and waiting always felt like agony to her.

So it made sense that the minute she heard the key clumsily twist in the latch, she burst out of her room without a second thought to fling the door open before he could continue messing with the lock. They’d had keys to each other’s houses since they were eight and nine respectively, but in the past three years Rhys had never gotten any better at managing the fiddly lock on the Archerons’ door. Feyre gave him a warm hug, squeezing tightly like she hadn’t seen him for weeks when it had only been mere hours. Rhys squeezed back with just as much fervour.

“Geez, Feyre, if you missed me that much, you could have come over to help me pack my stuff for tonight.”

“Am I not allowed to be excited? You get to stay over tonight and it’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Feyre, I’ll be staying over most of the summer!” Rhys said with a laugh, heading into the family’s living room before putting his stuff down by the couch.

Their coffee table had been moved out of the way, now replaced by a large inflatable air mattress in the middle of the cream-coloured carpet. It was laden with blankets and pillows - Feyre was a bit of a blanket hog, admittedly - just the way they liked it. It made it easier for the two of them to battle each other at Mario Kart under the covers in the dead of night before one of them inevitably got too excited. Their noise always earned them a stern scolding in the morning, but neither of them let it faze them too much. As long as they were having fun together and not getting into too much trouble, what did it matter? She got to hang out with her best friend in the whole world.

Rhys had no trouble settling in and making himself comfortable - the Archeron household had become like a second home to him, especially once Rebecca had passed unexpectedly only a few years after the two had become friends. It was around the same time that Feyre and her sisters lost their mother too - it was hard and unfamiliar, the change so deeply painful that she struggled to comprehend it at all. She couldn’t imagine how her sisters or her father had felt, being much closer to her mother than she was. But Rhys was struggling in the same way and needed a place to find solace. Feyre was just glad that they could find it in each other, especially as he found his dad getting colder and harsher as the years wore on. As her own father changed too, her sisters not quite the same as they once were either, her and Rhys stuck by each other’s side through it all.

He, somehow, remained warm and steadfast and comforting, and she could only hope that she had provided the same safety in return for the only other person who could understand her – her best, closest and dearest friend.

Elain made small talk with him as he kept trying to ask her questions, seeing if he could help around the house with anything, while Nesta unsurprisingly glared at him from across the room. She had never quite clicked with Rhys, as much as it irked Feyre, but she appreciated the fact that she wasn’t as rude to him as she was when they were a bit younger. Feyre darted into the kitchen amidst their conversation, not hesitating to grab all their favourite snacks and treats she had stowed away for whenever Rhys stayed over.

“It’s pizza again tonight,” she said as she grabbed the packets of chips and cookies, hauling as much as she could with both arms over to their humble abode for the night. “Dad has been having trouble cooking again.”

“You know I love pizza night!” Rhys took some of the snacks out of her arms, helping her bring them over.

“Yeah, when you haven’t had it for, like, three days in a row.” She rolled her eyes a little, beginning to head up to her room and get her charger for her Nintendo DS so they could play to their heart’s content later. “Nesta can’t cook well, and I’m not allowed near the gas stove yet.”

“You don’t need to go telling everybody!” Nesta shouted from the kitchen, beginning to storm off towards the other side of the house. Feyre couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.

“I’m sure your dad will feel better soon, Feyre. Besides, most people would kill for three pizza nights. I know I would.” Rhys picked up some of her games and trailed behind her diligently - he knew the house like the back of his hand, but his mother had drilled into him a sense of chivalry and politeness from a young age that wouldn’t be shaken. She simply laughed, bumping her shoulder with his as they walked back down the hallway together.

Soon enough, complaints about pizza nights and arguments over toppings were forgotten in favour of games and laughter and fierce competition about who could beat the other at Cooking Mama. As much as Feyre had been practising her skills, Rhys had a knack for those stupid minigames that Feyre couldn’t seem to master. Between bites of pizza, handfuls of chips and pillows smacked in faces, their night carried on with their usual raucousness. As things wound down for the night, the two laid side by side in their pyjamas, snuggled under blankets and Rhys’ head Feyre’s shoulder without a care in the world. Monster House played out before them, one of many movies they had on rotation for their sleepovers together that was a certified favourite of theirs.

But Feyre couldn’t help but realise as the night drew on that there wouldn’t be as many of these sleepovers soon - the summer was nearly over, and the thought made her stomach churn a little bit. It meant that she was going to start middle school, with a whole cohort of new people to meet, new faces to judge her. She couldn’t stop shifting and fidgeting, Rhys taking notice after a while and looking down at her with worry.

“You okay, Feyre? You’re all fidgety. Usually you’re so still when we watch our movies.”

Feyre sighed a little bit - she felt silly admitting her worries and fears about middle school to Rhys. He had seemed to take to it so easily like he did with most things, a year above her due to their ages and when their birthdays fell. She sat up slightly, crossing her legs as she looked into her lap with a small grimace on her face. Deep breaths, Feyre - this was Rhysand of all people. If there was anybody she could talk about this with, it was him. She turned her body in his direction, looking at him.

“Well, I’m, um- I know it’s kinda stupid, but like… You know how I’m going to start middle school next year, right?”

Rhys cocked his head slightly, sitting up straighter alongside her. “Yeah, just like I did. What’s wrong?”

“I, uh… I’m just. I’m a little scared about the whole thing, I think. Meeting so many new kids is always a bit scary and like, what if I don’t fit in? What if everybody just thinks I’m the weird art girl or something? Other kids can be so mean, and trying to make friends is always so hard.” Feyre sniffled slightly - all these thoughts had been weighing on her for a while, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough to talk about them with anybody around her.

Anybodyexcept for him.

She wiped at her nose a little before she continued. “Plus, you’ve got Azriel and Cassian to hang out with - I’m so glad you have more friends because you’re so nice! But I’m scared I won’t be able to find friends like you have.” Feyre was hunched over, fiddling with her hands in the blanket as she talked to Rhys.

There was a beat of quiet between them for a moment, the dull sound of the CRT’s tinny speakers in the background as the action of the movie played out on screen. Feyre could feel a few tears begin to prick at the edges of her eyes before Rhys… laughed. It was small and quiet, but it was definitely a laugh.

“Feyre, you’re so scared that it’s making you forget stuff.”

She looked up at him with a quizzical frown. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Rhys smiled at her widely before pulling her into a huge, crushing hug. She was still for a moment, a small squeak of surprise escaping her before she hugged him right back with as much force as she could muster.

“We’re going to be going to the same middle school, dummy.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, that means you don’t need to worry so much! You’ve already got one friend there. I’m the coolest, smartest person there anyways.” The two of them giggled together for a moment before breaking the hug, a smile finally breaking its way onto Feyre’s face as well as she shook her head.

“As if!” She gave him a light shove, Rhysand throwing a pillow lightly in her direction in turn.

“But for real, I’ll introduce you to Azriel and Cassian. Cassian can be a lot, and Azriel is a bit quiet, but they’re really good friends of mine. My cousin is coming to the same school as us too! She’s really fun, I think you and her will be close friends too. You’re not gonna be alone!” Rhys’ tone only got more and more filled with exuberance and delight as he kept talking. It made Feyre feel all warm and fuzzy to see Rhys find other people he connected with, making all of her worries seem a little bit lighter.

“Besides,” Rhys continued, “You’re my best friend. I’m gonna stick with you forever, remember?”

He reached out his pinky towards hers, held high and confidently between them with his signature mischievous grin on his face. Her smile had grown even wider to match his own grin, the two of them probably looking a little bit mad to anybody who happened to peek in on the two of them. Feyre reached her own pinky out, interlocking them tightly together before shaking their linked fists, almost like a handshake but with a lot more meaning and promise between the two of them.

“Yeah, I know. You’re gonna be stuck with me always.”

The credits began to roll on the TV, the high pitched sound of it shutting off as Feyre’s dad came into the room with the remote following not long after. He half-heartedly mumbled something about it being lights out, the two of them wishing him goodnight before laying in quiet silence as long as the two of them could possibly manage. They both knew what they were going to do next - it was practically a ritual at this point.

After what felt like an eternity had passed, Feyre felt Rhys nudge her arm gently with his elbow - that was her cue. She crept off of the inflatable mattress as quietly as she could manage, grabbing both of their DS consoles from the other side of the living room where they were charging out of reach. After climbing back on, she passed Rhys his, pushing down the volume on her own to zero before even daring to turn it on.

She set up the Mario Kart DS multiplayer room before the two of them hid underneath the bundles of covers, facing each other so there was no possibility that they could see each other’s screens and cheat.

“I’ve gotten sooo much better with Peach since you stayed over last time, I’m definitely gonna beat you.” Feyre whispered at him, mischief splayed all across her face.

“Maybe, but have you even unlocked R.O.B?” Rhys muttered back.

“No, show me!”

The two played late into the night, jabbing at each other and bickering as long as they could in game after game until they were inevitably caught out like clockwork.

They wouldn’t have changed a single moment of it for the world.

[acewithapaintbrush]

My entry for week three of @wdtajn for the prompt crossover and also for @empty-cryptid cause they wrote a super cute Encanto/One Piece crossover and I was like ohhhhhhhhh I wanna write Bruno and Luffy interacting too! So yeah, without you this wouldn't exist. Enjoy.

👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒

"Wahoooo! Sugoi ne! It's like Arabasta in here!" 

The boy with the strawhat turns in a circle, his head tilted back so far that his hat almost falls off. He's got his hands up and shielding his eyes even though there is no sun in Bruno's room that could blind him. 

Bruno thought that he would grow annoyed quickly with the overly excited visitor, but he's actually enjoying himself. This Luffy has a childlike wonder to him that is contagious.

When he'd arrived in a flash of light in the middle of their family breakfast (literally falling onto their table with a bone breaking crash) it had only taken him one second to find his bearings and greet them all with a cheeky "Yo!" and a bright smile. Not even Isabela threatening him with her spiky vines or Pepa gathering a cloud with lightning above her head had fazed him too much. He'd simply gushed and ah'd and said something about devil fruits and how Pepa's power was just like Nami's weapon and since his Nami is the strongest navigator ever Pepa must be super cool and strong too, right? 

Needless to say, Pepa had been ready to adopt him just minutes after meeting him. 

Surprisingly enough he hadn't been especially impressed with Luisa holding the table threateningly over his head. The reason for that became abundantly clear when he offered to help tidy up and lifted a nearby table with nothing but one arm. These noodle arms hide a lot of muscles, apparently. 

After a lot of back and forth to get the whole story out of him (pirates and devil fruits and rubber powers and a legendary treasure, oh my!) Abuela's hospitality and Luffy's obvious lack of ill intentions (he'd let Antonio use his rubber arms as a swing during the entire conversation without batting an eye) had won out and he'd been allowed to wait in Casita for his friends. 

Bruno has been tasked with keeping an eye on him during the day, much to the consternation of all the kids who wanted to play with the newcomer but were instead sent into town to take care of their chores first. The journey to Bruno's room took forever because not just the youngest Madrigals have taken a liking to their surprise visitor, but Casita as well, letting the boy use her stairs as a slide over and over again. 

"I don't know what that means." Bruno admits. He watches as Luffy plops down and starts gathering sand around himself. He must be as old as Isa and Dolores and at first sight he doesn't really act it. But Bruno can also see the sinewy muscles in his arms as he gathers the sand or the way his gaze took everything in before entering this room, as if assessing his surroundings for threats. It was a fleeting moment and Bruno only noticed because he was watching the boy so intently. There is something about this boy (man?) that makes you take notice, that makes you straighten your spine and tighten your fists. 

It's like watching a tiger play. A big cat, cute one moment but ready to rip your throat out at the slightest sign of danger in the next, and don't you dare forget about that. 

Agustin and Felix had snorted into their coffee when Luffy had declared himself the captain, but Bruno has no trouble believing it. 

No trouble at all. 

Bruno sits down and continues watching as Luffy builds a sandcastle. Or a goose. It's hard to tell. 

Some of his rats have come over to investigate and instead of shooing them away or being disgusted, Luffy only blinks at them for a second before including them in his play, setting them on little hills and smoothing down some sand so it becomes a slide. 

Any lingering apprehension Bruno might have had about the guy disappears. 

"You are very… calm about all of this." he starts slowly. "It must be scary, trapped in another world?" 

"Nah." Luffy is distracted by two rats angrily squeaking at each other over the slide. He just adds another. "My Nakama saw the whole thing. I'm sure they have already caught the devil fruit user and are figuring out how to reverse this."

"You have a lot of faith in them." 

"Sure I do! They are the best!" 

"Would you tell me about them?" 

Luffy lights up so much, Bruno fears he's going blind. 

And then he talks about all of them. How they met and who they are and their dreams and ambitions and why they are the greatest people in the whole wide world and how he would be lost without them and that he's so happy they decided to follow him. He talks about every single one of them with so much love and appreciation that it's hard not to fall a little bit in love with this crew just by his descriptions alone. 

It's also not hard to imagine why they all follow this boy to hell and back either. 

And then he talks about this One Piece and his dream to become the king of the pirates. It should put Bruno off (pirates are the bad guys, right?) but instead he grows excited. He is a storyteller at heart and this makes for an amazing story. 

He finds himself once again explaining that there are no devil fruits here, just their magical candle and how it came to be. Luffy nods along with stars in his eyes. 

When Bruno tells him what his gift is, Luffy almost bounces off the walls in excitement. 

"The future???? Honto ni??? That's so cool!" 

"Oh. Well." Bruno chuckles, a little bit flustered by the open admiration. It's been a long time since someone other than his family has called him cool. "I could show you. I mean. Maybe show you when your friends get here? Or maybe how you find the One Piece?" 

How, because "if" never even crossed Bruno's mind. 

Of course Luffy is gonna find it. 

Luffy's "No!" is a bit more forceful than Bruno expected, but before he can shrink back or register any hurt, Luffy grins at him  and clasps his hands around his crossed ankles. One of the rats has curled up on top of his hat for a nap. "No way! I don't wanna know how we'll find the One Piece. That would take all the fun out of it. I don't wanna go on a boring adventure!" 

"Fair enough." Bruno says and shrugs. 

Yeah. There is nothing worse than a boring adventure. 

Good thing there is rarely a boring day in the life of the Madrigals. 

"But hey! Can you look where we'll find Sanji's favorite cooking spoon? Someone… Not me! Definitely not me! But someone lost it when they were playing sword fighting with Usopp. As a good captain it's my duty to find it before Sanji notices and hits that person. Not 'cause it was me! 'Cause it wasn't! Okay?" 

Bruno just laughs. 

[tomtenadia]

Dress me up

Hello all,

here I am with another Rowaelin based on the foilowing prompt:

Rowaelin son, age 5/6/7 or so sees his big sister wearing a pretty dress and nail polish and asks dad if he could look pretty too??? and Rowan paints his nails

@rowaelinprompts

I have been eying that prompt for ages and today inspiration finally struck. it was fun to write and I hope I did it justice.

As usual I am bad at titles so apologies for that.

1.7k words

No warning, just pure undiluted Rowaelin fluff with their kids and Rowan being the most amazing dad that all the in the universe deserve.

Enjoy

----

Rowan loved weekends. He had a Monday to Friday corporate job, while his wife Aelin was a surgeon and could not always have that luxury. Those two days at home gave him the opportunity to spend time with his kids. Maya was fifteen and growing way to fast for his taste. Freyja was eight and a little tornado. Thomas was the youngest at five and now he and Aelin were expecting another child. Having a big family had been their dream from the start. Their friends called them crazy but they did not care. They had desired a house full of laughter, screams and in perpetual chaos. Adjusting the work balance to an ever growing family had taken some adjustments but in the end they had made it work and the kids were thriving.

Rowan was in the kitchen tidying up after lunch, Freyja at his side helping him placing crockery in the dishwasher which he then had to reshuffle. She just loved to dump things randomly so then he had to move everything again according to his very highly tested stacking plan. Truth was, he did not care. Having his daughter’s company was precious to him.

“All done!” Freyja had raised her arms in celebration.

He chuckled and closed the door “yes, my love, now, do you want to press the button?”

“Yes!” Freyja pressed the button that her dad had indicated and sat down in front of the machine that had a glass window allowing them to see inside.

“Wash!”

Rowan lifted his daughter in his arms “let’s go and see what your sister and brother are doing.”

They walked to Thomas’ room and found it empty until laughter reached them from the room at the end of the corridor “let’s go and see what they are up to.”

Maya’s room was chaos. It looked as if his daughter’s room had suffered a wardrobe explosion. 

“Did you have a fight with the closet?”

Freya squirmed in his arms and he let her go and his younger daughter ran to her sister’s bed and started trying on clothes that were far too big for her. Thomas in the meantime was sitting on the carpet and stared at his two sisters in fascination. He was a very quiet boy and Aelin kept telling him that he was a little Rowan.

“Mum did tell you that I am going to Aidan’s birthday party later on, right?”

“Yes Maya, she did and I know that auntie Elide is picking you up.”

Maya sat frustrated on the bed after throwing another dress on the floor “I look horrible in every dress.”

Rowan sighed. He and Aelin were getting used to a teenager daughter and all the drama that came attached with it. Luckily their circle of friends was more or less in the same situation so they had been exchanging tips on how to deal with angry, stressed and frustrated teenagers.

“There is this girl from my class that I really like and I just want to look nice but…” a loud groan left Maya’s lungs.

His eldest was all Aelin. Fierce and hot tempered just like her mother. Six months before, Maya had gone to her mother and confessed she thought she was interested in both girls and boys. She hadn’t said anything to him because she was afraid to disappoint him, but when Aelin told him he had gone and spoke to Maya offering all of his support. His daughter happiness was all that mattered. He had only told her that no matter whether she brought home a woman or a man, he was still playing jealous dad because she was and would always be his princess.

Rowan walked to the bed and picked a nice green dress “what about this one? It matches your eyes.” Maya was his clone. Same silver hair and same pine green eyes. The other two were a mix of both parents’ traits.

“What do you think kids? Does Maya look nice in this one?”

Freyja and Thomas approved loudly and Maya smiled.

“Fine, family approval. I guess I can try this on.”

While Maya disappeared to get changed, Freyja had sneaked in the open wardrobe and started taking out all of her sister’s remaining dresses and when Rowan turned he saw her with a red wig that her sister had used for Samhain a few years back.

“Looking good Freya.”

The girl giggled and in that instant Maya came back and Rowan turned to her. The dress suited her perfectly and hugged her in the right places without being too sensual. She looked beautiful and a part of him ached at the idea that her daughter would start to date soon and he was not ready to see her going through all of the heartache in the process. Not everyone was as lucky as he and Aelin had been. Not everyone got to marry their best friend and soulmate.

“Baby, you are stunning and I hope that girl will see it too.”

“You are so pretty,” added Freyja hugging her sister at knee level.

“Tom, what do you think?”

“I like green.”

“Well, you have the family approval and I am sure mum would agree too. I just texted her.”

Maya started to get ready and Freyja kept playing with her sister’s clothes. Rowan then noticed Thomas trying to wear a nice blue dress.

“It’s too big, Tom.”

“But I like it.” Hurt thick in his voice.

Freya looked at her brother and disappeared away, probably to her room. When she came back she was carrying her little suitcase which was full of a lot of her princess dresses and accessories.

Thomas looked at his sister with joy and the two young ones started rummaging in the suitcase.

“We can have a parade.” Added Maya, looking at her siblings with delight.

Maya helped Freyja and Rowan sat on the floor and he and Thomas went through the clothes until the boy settled on a nice sparkly princess dress.

Thomas’ gaze then landed on Freyja wearing a tiara and then Maya painting her nails “Dada, I want to look pretty too.” He added, while pointing at his sisters.

Freyja walked to her brother and placed her tiara on his head and the boy smiled.

“Do you want to paint your nails too? Like your sister?”

The boy squealed in delight and ran to Maya who at the question had sat down on the floor and took out her box with nail polish “which one do you want?”

Thomas looked at his father and Rowan nodded “you have a light blue dress, do you want blue nail polish too?”

“Green.”

“Green it is.”

Maya was about to start painting her brother’s nails but Rowan stopped her “I got this, finish getting ready. The little ones and I will get ready for our party tonight with mum.”

“Yes. Can we party with mum?”

“She is coming home soon, we need to get ready for her.”

Rowan sat on the bed and asked Thomas to kneel and place his hand on his thigh “now you need to sit still.”

One by one he painted all the nails and then Maya showed him how to blow on them to dry faster.

In the meantime, Freyja had finished dressing up and was wearing one of her favourite Disney princess costume, her sister’s red wig a set of bright yellow sunglasses and a plastic sword in her hands. It was the weirdest combination but he and Aelin had always allowed the children to express themselves freely.

“Dad, am I pretty too?”

“Absolutely dashing, my love.”

The girl preened just like her mother would do.

Once Thomas’s nail were dry he just started jumping around happy “I am pretty.”

He took a picture of all of them when Freyja walked to him and pulled his hand for attention “dada, you need to look pretty too.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” Freyja gave him wide grin showing her missing tooth. He sat back down on the floor and Freyja placed a bright pink boa feather scarf around his neck, Thomas gave him another of the many tiaras and Freyja then added a pair of big clip on earrings.

“Dada, you are pretty too now.”

Rowan stood and walked to the mirror and laughed.

In that instant Aelin’s voice reached them all and the two wee ones started screaming in happiness.

“Slowly, we will parade down the stairs and surprise mum.”

Freyja was the first one out of the room and Thomas followed holding her hand.

“Dad, you look dashing too. Does mum know she married a pretty princess?”

Rowan grinned and flicked his long hair and adjusted his tiara “Maya, your mum is the warrior who slays dragons for me.”

They both laughed and then Rowan offered his arms to his daughter “let’s go.”

Together they reached the living room where Thomas and Freyja were parading in front of Aelin who was sitting on the sofa.

Rowan saw her face restrain a laughter as soon as she spotted her husband and his current attire.

“You make a good princess, dear husband.”

“We had the best stylists.” Added Maya with pride.

Aelin looked at her daughter with love “you are beautiful, my love.” She then placed her hands on her hips “now I am the boring one and we can’t have this.”She disappeared upstairs and came back ten minutes later among laughter from the rest of the family. She was wearing her koala pyjama a green wig and a sword attached to her hip “Baby and I went for comfort.”

“This definitely deserves a photo.”

Rowan went to grab the camera and set it on a timer and ran back. He took a spot beside Aelin, his arms sneaking around her waist while the other landed on her baby bump. Maya was at her mum’s other side. Aelin had a hand on her sword, Freyja was in front of her and had her own wielded and in an attack pose. Thomas’s face was morphed in a grimace and pretended to be a monster scaring his sister.

Rowan went to retrieve the camera and together they looked at the photo “well, no one can say that we don’t know how to have fun.”

“Buzzard, we are the Whitethorn-Galathynius, we are awesome.”

The kids roared their approval and the party began.

The photo became a permanent fixture on top of their mantlepiece framed in the sparkliest frame Freyja could find.

tags:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 11 - Captivity

Scogan Bingo challenge Sneaking In/Out

Logan should have realized the moment the guy had walked into his cell, of course.

With his instincts worth shit right now and having spent the better part of the last two days drifting in and out of consciousness, he supposed though, even a feral could be forgiven some inattentiveness. It sure as fuck wasn’t due to this hideous disguise that his muffled sense of smell and blurry vision, his dampened earing, didn’t catch on immediately when some new janitor guy whom Logan hadn’t seen in this facility before started cleaning the room with a cheerful whistle on his lips.

Only when the guy went to work on one of the mirrored walls, displaying in detail the traces of everything that had gone down in this damn cell in the last three weeks, Logan suddenly was fixed by a pair of sky-blue, breathtakingly beautiful eyes. Pupils he'd never been allowed to look into before, and yet he knew that face coming with them ...

His own eyes went wide as recognition hit him in his starvation-knotted stomach like a freight train.

The silent What the fuck on his lips must have been plain to see for his unexpected visitor if hopefully not for the cameras in the corner, because fake cleaner dude shook his head at him in that reflection almost imperceptibly. His grip on the handle of some wiper in his hand which Logan only now realized was very faintly blinking orange, tightened slightly. Only when said LED signal turned to green, Scott let out a relieved hiss, never stopping his thorough tidying up though – knowing what a neat freak his dear team leader was, Logan could have bet, he was actually enjoying that part. Next, he started getting all that rusty red below Logan's stretcher off the floor which at least gave them the advantage that they could communicate from up close. "Audio jammer's active. There's not enough time to crack the cameras so keep ignoring me. Are you feeling half as shit as you look?"

"Look who's talking," Logan deadpanned, with a voice still quite hoarse from the last bout of screaming, careful to keep his lips or eyes from moving too much, no matter how badly he wanted to look at Scott again right now. Not least to really get it in his head that what he'd been certain at this point wouldn’t happen anytime soon, was true, that he'd been found … And by the last person he'd have expected to show up in this secret Weapon X laboratory no less. "Did you go to Stark's school of disguise or what?"

"Fooled you for a minute," Scott returned with only a very weak twitch around the corner of his mouth. The too-pale color under what was hopefully only temporary tattoos disfiguring his face revealed, he was still processing Logan's not-exactly-pretty appearance. Together with that ridiculous platinum blond buzz cut and apparently some inhibitor device that the guy must be carrying, a look that might indeed at least mislead the insane bastards working at these labs for an hour or two about having hired one of their arch-enemies. Hopefully enough to end Logan's own very unfortunate latest encounter with these assholes. "Enough flirting, we're short on time. Can you hang in there for another bit or do I need to blast us out immediately? I'd prefer to take this whole place down while we're at it but I'm not risking your life for that."

It was Logan's turn to shake his head almost invisibly lightly and force something like a weak grin on his lips, with as much of a shrug as the adamantium cuffs around his arms and shoulders allowed. "Had worse. What's the plan?"

There was no question that Summers had come here with one, given how much effort he'd put into his role, in spite of his almost palpable disgust about the feigned disregard and levity with which he had to regard Logan's bloody ordeal for now. If he was being honest, Logan would already have expected the kid to faint instead at this point. Sometimes he still had to remember that this guy was nothing like what Logan had thought when he'd stumbled into that damn posh mansion before Liberty Island, and that Scott in fact remembered more years of being at war than Logan could thanks to his amnesia.

"I brought you something to ... Jesus, Logan, can you wipe that look off your face? What, you thought we weren’t coming when you stopped calling?"

"Only surprised it's you, I guess," Logan answered truthfully after biting down arduously a new wave of pain wrecking his guts, a new noise from his bloody-bitten lips that this time became a subdued growl, now that he knew, that this was about to end soon. A pleasant surprise thanks to someone, of all people, whom Logan had half and half not expected ever seeing again after taking some time off from Mutant High to finally finish getting over Jean's death … and especially from what had started to develop between Scott and him out of the blue recently. That nothing had come out of that promising growing intimacy had not been any of Logan's fault, in any case. That was a fight against windmills he'd no longer been ready to engage in. Seeing where he'd promptly ended up, going solo again … Well, he didn’t need a few nights of meditating on it to admit, that might have been a mistake. "Could have sworn you'd have jumped right into that lake after Jeannie by now."

"Toyed with the thought until you left and didn’t show your face for months," Scott said soberly, a visible shadow darkening his expression that he hid by bending down next to the stretcher to get to a few especially dark blood stains on the rough concrete ground. "That was when I realized I didn’t want to lose someone else I'm attached to. So you better not think about clocking out on me here, because that's not happening."

"Slim …" Logan's throat suddenly felt even tighter than from that damn inhibitor collar choking him, stifling any attempt of escape from one inhumane experiment after the other. So he'd indeed not been imagining it what had formed between them in their common grief over the woman they'd both loved …

"Not the time." Scott's back stiffened defensively as he was rummaging in his cleaning cart, hopefully for something that would help Logan get out of this embarrassing situation quickly because he suddenly felt like dragging that guy into the next best empty room and kissing him senseless.

"You don't say." Logan winced and threw his head back against the resistance of the collar as the wolf of infection and poisoning bit down into his midsection once more, the cramp further ripping open the holes where a couple of organs were missing, obscenely on display thanks to the broad surgical clamps biting into inflamed flesh.

Scott had become another shade paler when he turned back to him with something carefully hidden in a new cloth but to his credit, he wasn’t looking like he was about to add a few more body fluids of his own to the mess on the ground. Which, from all Logan had found out about the guy with time, thanks to a few certain secret entries in Scott's file at Westchester, shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. Plus, right now, there simply was no time for shock and fretting, and if there was one thing this man was really good at, it was compartmentalizing. "Hang on, we're almost done. Just can't risk them suspecting me not doing my work in here. But they won't put their hands on you again, I promise. What are they trying to do, anyway?" With just the slightest shudder, Scott regarded that mess of exposed flesh on Logan's lower stomach before visibly clenching his teeth and going back to those stains on the ground so he could finish this whole masquerade.

Logan let out a dry huff but that hurt too much, so he just dully turned his gaze back to the mirror right above his stretcher that should probably serve to drive the helplessness and humiliation home to him. Joke was on his captors, though. As little as he remembered about his life before losing most of it … The sight of lazily twitching intestines on display and torrents of red dripping from his shape wasn’t anything new thanks to his powers. In a way that Logan didn’t think he could have explained it to Scott especially, it was actually calming, seeing what these bastards were doing. As long as he was bleeding, he was alive, mostly incapacitated healing factor or not. "In general? Taking revenge for me offing Stryker, and challenging my healing factor to find out how to kill ferals. Right now? Seeing how long someone can survive without kidneys and dialysis."

"Lame," Scott judged from his crouching position, with as much strained humor as he could come up with, while some quiet clanking and clicking revealed, he was busy leaving some of said gifts on the underside of the bed, out of every camera angle. "Essex already did that study on me when I was 13. I should send them the thesis."

Logan suddenly didn’t feel a lot like joking. Knowing something in theory was a lot different than hearing details for the first time, because so far, Scott had understandably not wanted to open up to him about some aspects of his past so far. Not outside the occasional nightmare that Logan had woken him from in their nights of reminiscing and bonding at least. He found himself wishing he'd have had a chance to get a chance to get his hands on that Essex guy before Charles had sent the asshole in some mental limbo long before they'd all met. It was all the more a reason not to risk Scott ever going through something like this again. Not everyone came with a healing factor Logan's size. "You need to get the fuck out of here. If they find you out …"

"That's the job," Scott interrupted him sharply, every bit the team leader Logan had come to respect long before feelings of a whole different kind had started to emerge in him regarding this man. "Don't worry; situation's under control. I just needed to check on your condition before we strike. Guns and blades are right under your butt. Use them until your healing factor kicks in properly again. You can't afford to lose any more blood right now. I'm gonna help you off that thing in a minute but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to punch you in the face for that."

"Don't tell me you haven’t been waiting for that ever since you saved my ass from Creed back then." Logan made very sure to wait for Scott to get up again before rolling his eyes at him.

"Not since Alkali Lake," Scott replied with that strangely calm, almost gentle tone again before his expression took on an exaggerated aggressive, hateful touch for the cameras, his fist clenching around something. "Try not to swallow this. You've got enough shit in you right now that doesn’t belong there."

"What is it?" Somehow gathering what was left of his clear mind in spite of the current blood loss, Logan remembered he should better be doing his part of the show and showed his alleged enemy a vicious grin before throwing a few not-so-kind insults at Scott's head, with only his lips moving.

"Temporarily overrides the inhibitor ray. Wait till I left. You'll have five minutes." Scott's posture tensed as he prepared to deliver a blow he visibly loathed even for the show.

"Where do I pick you up?" Logan's eyes darted to the digital time display on the wall as a warning that it couldn’t be too long now before his torturers would be back. If he had anything to do with it, Scott wouldn’t be meeting these people, elaborate plan or not.

"Pantry. Gonna drop a little drug package in the water tank. By tonight, everyone here will be out of it enough for the army to sweep the place. You and I don't want to be around for that though." But Scott was still hesitating, much to Logan's dismay.

He decided to make it easier for the guy and took a deep breath before spitting a remarkable amount of thick yellow and red on Scott's shirt. The blow following was indeed harsher than expected and left him gasping for a moment but with said small device, lowly humming at the inside of his cheek a second later, Logan could almost immediately feel his powers starting to come back to life. Now they had to be quick. "Slim."

"Don't mention it." Scott hurried to pack all his tools into that cart again, with only a brief, satisfied look at these holes in Logan's body that were trying to close against the resistance of the clamps already.

"Wasn’t gonna. When we're home, we'll talk though." Logan made sure to let it sound like the order that it was.

He could see Scott smile a lot broader to himself in the reflection this time before approaching the door. "I'll take you up on that. Meet you on the other side, Claws."

An hour later, they were in the Blackbird and on their way home. And maybe for the first time since he'd come to Westchester back then, Logan was certain he wouldn’t be leaving again anytime soon.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[duckybarnes1917]

Your Eyes Outshine The Town…Chapter 4

Bucky Barnes x Black Female Reader

18+ Only

Summary: Bucky discovers more about his past and potential future. You do some research on the Tracksuit Mafia.

Warnings: Fluff and Angst. Reader has nightmares and panic attacks. This setup with Bucky's family is important to me because I worked really hard on giving Bucky the family he deserves that the MCU refuses to give him and us. But thank you to the blip for allowing this to happen.

*Tumblr is not letting me add links to the prev or next chapters. Please see the masterlist pinned to my page for the rest of the story!*

As you waited for the soup to finish cooking, you finally took pity on Bucky and restarted your conversation from the train. “What did you like to do in the 40s?” 

“I boxed, actually; I was pretty good. And we went dancing a lot.” 

“A boxer and a dancer—makes sense.” 

You brought the bowls of soup to the table; Bucky devoured his, and you gave him the rest of yours. 

“Doll—I wanna open the file.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “The one from Shuri?” 

Before coming to New York, Shuri had given Bucky a file that contained information about his family, both past and present. But he had yet to open it. 

Bucky nodded apprehensively. “Being here in the city with you—it reminds me of my past life, and I think it’s time.” 

You stood up and kissed his forehead. “Go get it; I’ll clean this up.” You took his empty bowls and went to the kitchen. 

Bucky returned with the file in his slightly shaking hands—he didn’t know why he was so nervous. He sat back down at the table and laid the file in front of him, just staring at it until you cleared your throat. 

“Do you want me to open it?” 

Bucky shook his head. “No, I just need a second.” 

You left your chair and motioned for him to scoot away from the table so you could sit in his lap. He wrapped one arm around your hips and grabbed the file. 

You looked through it together; Shuri had gone above and beyond—of course. She had included pictures of weddings, kids, birthdays, holidays—his sisters’ lives that he had missed, pieced together through photographs. 

You were crying almost as much as Bucky was. You stayed quiet, rubbing his back soothingly. You had been jealous before, but seeing him so happy did nothing but make you happy for him. He deserved this, and you made a mental note to send Shuri a fantastic gift to thank her. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky whispered. 

“What is it, baby?” 

“This—it says that Betty is still alive!” Bucky jumped up—thank god for his catlike reflexes, or he would have dumped you on the floor. 

“Seriously? She was the youngest, right?” You stood at the table while Bucky paced around excitedly. 

“Yeah! I didn’t think any of them would still be around. There’s no address or phone number, though.” 

You crossed the room and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sure someone on the list will know how to contact her. Call them.” 

“Yeah—yeah, you’re right.” Bucky kissed you quickly before sitting back down at the table and pulling his phone out. 

“Hi—uh—is this Connor? This is James—Barnes.” 

You busied yourself in the apartment as Bucky’s phone conversation stretched on. You finished cleaning the kitchen and then went to the bedroom. You rolled your eyes and picked up Bucky’s clothes that he liked to throw on the floor. You had already argued about this more than once, yet clothes still ended up on the floor every day. 

Who knew the Winter Soldier was such a slob? 

 After tidying up, you flopped on the bed and did a little digging on the Tracksuit Mafia. 

If I can find pictures of Bucky and me on Instagram, these idiots are on there too.

They weren’t hard to find; one profile for a man named Ivan proudly stated his affiliation with the gang. You scrolled through the pictures and deduced that they often met at an old KB Toys warehouse, but that was way out of town.

There’s no way I could be gone for that long without Bucky getting suspicious. 

You kept digging, eventually finding a link to Ivan’s TikTok account–mostly videos of his attempted music career. You were about to give up when you landed on a recent video advertising a Christmas carol event at Macy’s the following day. 

Bingo! 

If I can catch him off guard, I can definitely get him to tell me who they’re working for now. 

You stuck your head out the door to check on Bucky; he was still talking to Connor–you hadn’t heard him talk this much since you met him. 

You locked your phone and put it away; you figured Bucky would be hungry again soon, and you had been enjoying playing chef, so you started making a second lunch. 

Sam’s sister, Sarah, had taught both Sam and you several traditional recipes when you were younger. One, in particular, stuck because it was your favorite—jambalaya. The familiar smells of the spices as you chopped and sauteed made you feel like you could hear the gentle waves of the bayou if you just listened hard enough. 

Bucky looked up and raised his eyebrows when he smelled the bell peppers, onions, and jalapenos. 

You gave him a quick smile and continued with your work. As you were putting everything in the oven, Bucky wrapped up his phone call and came to stand behind you. 

“That smells amazing, doll—sorry I was on the phone so long.” 

“Don’t apologize; it’s fine. Sounded like it went well?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said brightly. “He’s cool, and he invited me—us—over for Christmas.” 

“You want me to go?” 

“Of course, but I told him we’d come the day after—I still want to be selfish with you for a bit longer.” 

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “That sounds perfect. Did he know where Betty is?” 

Bucky frowned slightly. “She’s at a nursing home upstate. He said she’s doing well, though, and they go see her as often as they can.” 

“Should we go see her?” 

“Connor lives upstate too—I figured we could go when we visit them.” 

“Whatever you want, I’m there.” 

“Thank you,” Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, kissing you again. “What are you making in here?” 

“Jambalaya. But I didn’t have shrimp, so I had to make do with only chicken. I figured you’d be hungry again soon.” 

“You know, I’ve eaten ridiculously more food since you’ve been here than when I was alone.” 

“I’m trying to see if I can feed you enough to give you a little belly,” you teased as you slipped your hand under his shirt and caressed his abs. 

Bucky hummed happily and kissed you more forcefully, his stomach tensing when you moved your hand lower. 

“Does me being your little housewife turn you on, Bucky?” 

Bucky didn’t answer—he lifted you onto the kitchen counter, trying to shut you up with his tongue in your mouth. 

You pulled back. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you giggled. “You want me to take care of you? Feed you? And then let you destress after a long day by letting you fuck me however you see fit?” 

Bucky groaned against your neck. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why that turns me on. I’m sorry.” 

You busted out laughing as Bucky got increasingly needier, his lips moving down to the tops of your breasts and his hands groping everywhere.

“Does this mean you’re done pouting about losing the contest?” 

“Oh doll, I was done pouting the second you started curling your fingers. I will proudly lose any contest that involves you doing that again and again and again.” Bucky bit into your cleavage, his frustration building too quickly for him to handle.

The action made your legs spread almost involuntarily. “Well, you have 45 minutes until this timer—" you screamed when Bucky lifted you off the counter and threw you over his shoulder—taking you straight to the bedroom.

12 Days Before Christmas

Bucky laid on his side, watching you sleep as restlessly as he felt. Despite the Christmas cheer that you had injected into his life, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. What was supposed to be a relaxing evening at one of Brooklyn’s many Christmas markets had turned into a fight–though you would say it was nothing. 

**

“What’s going on with you?” Bucky asked as he searched your face for a sign. 

He was sure you hadn’t heard a word he said as you strolled through the market. 

“Nothing,” you answered too quickly. 

Your eyes were scanning the crowd; you swore you saw a flash of a red tracksuit. There were too many people here; you were too exposed. 

“Hey,” Bucky pulled you into a secluded corner. “What is it? Just tell me.” 

“Bucky, I said it was nothing! Okay? Just let it go.” You tried to walk away from him, back into the crowd. 

Bucky grabbed your elbow but couldn’t get a word out before you pushed him off. 

“Can we just enjoy our evening, please?” 

“Fine,” Bucky relented, following behind you as you put a fake smile on your face. 

**

The two of you had barely spoken after that–Bucky couldn’t pretend he wasn’t upset, and you refused to admit anything was wrong. 

Was it him? Was he the problem? Maybe you were changing your mind about him–you were tired of him. Just the thought made his chest tight. It had been so long since he was this close to someone, he didn’t think he would survive being alone again. 

You stirred again, a soft whimper leaving your lips, your brows deeply furrowed. 

“Doll? It’s okay.” Bucky reached out to shake you awake.

You sat up with a gasp and jerked out of his touch.

“You’re okay; I’m right here.” 

You didn’t look at him as you swung your legs over the side of the bed and hurried to the bathroom. 

“Hey, wait!” Bucky sat up and turned on his lamp, but the bathroom door was already shut. 

He knocked softly; he could hear your sniffles as you tried not to cry. “Doll? Let me in; what’s going on?”

“I’m fine; go back to sleep!” 

“I can stay out here all night,” Bucky said quietly. 

Neither of you had woken up from a nightmare since you had been together—he was perturbed now.

You didn’t respond, and he sighed loud enough for you to hear, resting his forehead against the door. 

“We’re a team now, sweetheart. I know you haven’t been doing well; you gotta talk to me.” 

He paused, waiting for your response, and then nearly fell over when you wrenched the door open. 

“I said I was fine,” you tried to slip past him, but he grabbed your arm. 

“Doll–” Bucky paused for a moment, the smell of alcohol on your breath throwing him off. “Were you drinking?” 

You pulled your arm away from him. “I’m not doing this right now.”

“Why can’t you just talk to me?!” 

You paused with your hand on the bedroom doorknob; alarm bells went off in your head–run. You suddenly felt suffocated. You pulled the door open without saying anything else and slammed it shut behind you. 

You paced around the living room; your hands felt numb, your heart was racing as you tried to suck in oxygen. 

Fuck, I haven’t been this bad in so long.

If you hadn’t been wearing skimpy silk pajamas, you would have gone for a run–but you couldn’t go back to the bedroom now. You couldn’t face him. 

You put your hands behind your head and took long deep breaths, holding them for a few seconds before exhaling. When your heart rate slowed, you sank into the living room chair and tried to curl into a comfortable position. 

Why didn’t we buy a couch? There’s no way I can sleep here. Should have kicked him out of the room–dumb. 

Fighting was a big part of every adult relationship you had been in. You and Stephan fought at least once a week over the most trivial things: you were taking too long to get ready, he didn’t bring you the right flowers, you couldn’t agree on what kind of wine to have with dinner. You were constantly on the defensive with Stephan; otherwise, you risked losing your power in the relationship. You couldn’t talk to Stephan about your feelings–that would give him leverage. You had to protect yourself. 

But Bucky–Bucky made you feel safe. You didn’t need to fight with him to keep your power. 

Shit. 

As stubborn as ever, you continued to lay in your uncomfortable position until your legs were cramping and your arm was asleep. Only then did you finally force yourself to get up and go back to the bedroom. 

You peeked in, Bucky’s back was to you, his chest rising and falling lightly. Silently you slipped back into bed, cuddling against his back. 

“You okay?” He mumbled, turning around to hold you against his chest. You nodded, sinking into his comfort. “I’m sorry. This is new for me, okay? I’m not used to this.” 

“Not used to what?” 

“Trusting you with my heart,” you whispered. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.” Bucky held you closer. “Do you want to talk about the dream? Was it Stephan?” 

“No,” you lied. “It was you.” 

Bucky tensed, his hands falling away from you as he turned on his back. “I’m sorry.”

He was already shutting himself down–he knew it was all too good to be true. His brain cruelly replayed the image of his vibranium hand around your throat, your eyes full of fear. He had lost control once several months ago, unable to wake himself from a nightmare and you had paid the price. He was still finding it difficult to forgive himself. A similar look of fear had been in your eyes when you flinched away from him and locked yourself in the bathroom.  

You sat up, starting to panic again. “Wait, don’t be mad–I’m trying. Just–Bucky!” You grabbed his arm as he tried to get out of bed. “I’m trying, I want to let you in–I–” you wiped a tear off your cheek and tried to keep your voice steady. “In my dream, you were being hurt, and I couldn’t get to you–I couldn’t do anything but watch.” 

Bucky’s hardened shell softened. “Oh–” he turned back around to face you. “You don’t have to say anything else, doll. Tell me when you’re ready.” He held you close as you sat in his lap. 

“I thought you were mad at me,” you whispered as you clung to him. 

“No, never. When you said you had a dream about me–I thought it was–bad. And you pushed me away when I tried to touch you.” 

You pulled back and looked at him like he was crazy. “I’m not afraid of you, Bucky; I’ve never been afraid of you.” 

“Old habits,” Bucky shrugged. “Do you want me to get you anything?” 

You shook your head. “I just need to hold you.” 

You buried your face in the crook of his neck and tried to relax, rubbing his cold metal dog tags between your fingers. The part of the dream you told him about was true; you just left out the part where you were being forced to save either him or Stephan and you couldn’t do it—you couldn’t choose.

Bucky felt your hot tears on his neck and held you closer. “We can talk about him, you know? I know you’re hurting. You don’t have to pretend for me.” 

You remained still and quiet, pretending you were asleep. 

“I love you,” Bucky whispered and kissed the top of your head.

Don't forget to reblog! 😉

*Tumblr is not letting me add links to the prev or next chapters. Please see the masterlist pinned to my page for the rest of the story!*

Taglist: @delaber @mannien @raindrcpsangel @cjand10

[mocha-ram]

I love being who i am

I dislike so many aspects about myself but in the end I have an identity, I have the opportunity to express it and live it and even if it's confusing as hell and super fucking scary in the end there's those certain landmarks. those things that, even if they have changed, they're still there. Friendships, memories. Nostalgia, to me, is the most heartbreaking and most heartwarming emotion. You were there. Not many may know it, maybe nobody knows about it at all but you've been there, and you know that, and the place knows that, and it's this shared intimacy with yourself that is so difficult to describe. It can be soothing and uncomfortable, that you were someone, that you're no longer that person, that you're new but you're still exactly the same.

It happens to me sometimes that I listen to a song that I have never heard before but I feel like it has the sound of the warmth and security of early childhood, the safety of old friends. Perfume, music, even a colour. triggers to these core parts of yourself.

I am so happy I get to make mistakes, I'm so happy that, even if time keeps moving forward I can still be a kid for a little, I can still learn, I can still play, feel happy.

I hate so many parts of what I am, what I've been, what I might be, but honestly I wouldn't want it any other way, because that aversion lets me create solutions of all kinds, lets me have profound conversations with my close ones, with myself. It allows me to understand what I don't like and guides me towards what i do.

people are complex, emotions even moreso. it's impossible to know someone completely, most of us barely know ourselves.

but I know my friend likes bugs and jewellery

I know my friend likes music and drawing

I know enough to express my love for them, and even if it's hard enough dealing with the everyday and I might not be able to demonstrate it...

I think about my friends, I think about my loved ones, whenever I see something I think they might like. I take care of myself because I know it's the only way to go towards the person I'd like to be.

to me it's been - and still is - a big process, learning to love my identity in its ups and downs, when it's defined or when it's vague and confusing, when it makes me feel good, when it doesn't.

it's been an incredibly hard journey, learning to take care of myself, especially since quarantine. But now I clean my room so my plushies can sleep comfortably, I bathe so my clothes have something nice to embrace, I tidy my room as a sign of love to every object in it, and to every part of myself too.

I think we need to be nice to ourselves, to the parts we hate about ourselves, so we can use them to our advantage no matter how much they hurt.

Despite everything, love.

love your friends or family or partner(s). The people who care about you want you to be well.

that was my main motivation to love myself at least

[insteadofcrying]

Crisis Blurb #1

What is it that I want?

Let’s see with my eyes closed. I can imagine a warm house with beautiful patios. Books would be in every room of the house. It’s snowing outside but the room would be warm enough for me that I’m never afraid when the winter comes. I’d still be a little bit stressed from my work, but this time, what’s at stake would be something that truly matters to me. Something that I truly owe to the people intrinsically, beyond monetary value. By then I would have graduated with a degree that I have always wanted, and this time I didn’t choose the subject to impress people or to just simply survive or just because I can; I have done it before so I know not to. I don’t see anyone there but me and my cat, no partner yet, or maybe ever, but I’m okay. I’d have my own schedule to jog, and I try not to miss it. It’s a simple life in a beautiful house. I no longer see the world in monochrome. Life has splashed its color back to my skin and I’d be witty unapologetically. Mom and dad would visit me often. They’d have their own room with its own patio. Mom would love the smell of the room, and she’d have the prettiest vanity table. The room would be big enough that she can do a little aerobics once in a while. Dad would be able to watch tv on a sofa I bought for him, one that allows him to finally feel the comfort of retirement. No more work for him, no more thinking about how his children could survive without him working tirelessly. I’d give dad his own garden at the back of the house where the fruits will grow as if they cannot wait for him to pick them.

My siblings  would have their own rooms, too. 

My first brother would have his own room on the second floor. A room of his liking, a room he deserves even when he doesn’t feel like it. He could come over whenever he wants to play games with his siblings. Of course the key would be his, a reminder that he’ll always have other places to go whenever he feels a little too lonely. I’d complain whenever the room gets too messy, I’d still go by the rules of my house: clean up your mess. I’d create a little space for him to work for his business, a little studio to try again and again. I know life owed him that much; Life owed him the chance to try again for breaking him so early. 

My second brother would have his room next to his brother. Life has strained so much of their relationship that I think they forget they have each other. I know he’d love to bond with his brother over games, so I’d give my first brother a reason to visit his room once in a while by placing the video game console in his room. In his room, he would have the chance to be a little kid again. A kid where his brother finally looks over at him with a smug smile whenever he wins the game, where his brother is also his friend. This time they’d have so little to fight over. He has found the love of his life, another sister for me, so I’d allow the freedom of having his partner’s things lying around in his room. The bed would be enough for the two of them, and it would always smell like his wife, because of course his wife would smell like his most favorite thing. And just like my first brother, the key would be his. 

For my sister, I’d place a cat bed at the foot of her own bed so she could sleep with my cat. On weekends, she’d visit me with her partner, so her bed would be big enough for two. She’d have a window sill to sit by and read her legal papers so she wouldn’t forget that life doesn’t stop even if a case gets too hard to solve or understand. Life continues to be beautiful, especially at fall when she could see the golden leaves falling. She can have anything she wants in that room. She can lock the door when she’s mad at me over a silly joke. She’d know that even when I’m mad at her, the key would still be hers because she’ll always have her own room at my place. I know the rule of my house is to be tidy, but her work would require her to juggle between papers, so I’d give her a big enough desk to work. I’d walk over to her room and smile at her law books on the desk, knowing I’m forever proud of what she becomes-even when the law books turn into cooking books. Even when there’s no book at all. 

By then I’d realize that I’m no longer looking for something to complete me. By then I know I’d be able to be there for my family when they need me. I’d be content, because by then they know they’d always have a place to experience the things they love the most, and it would be me who planted them.

All is safe and sound and I’m no longer running.

[russellsppttemplates]

Christmas in Spain (Carlos Sainz)

First term is over so you go back home to spend Christmas with your family

Note: english is not my first language. Dad!driver always gets me fluffy (and let's pretend it's Christmas season for a bit - it was a bit tricky considering it's sunny and warm outside 😅)

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"I hope you have fun holidays!", you waved to the kids as they got their backpacks and ran out the door, excited for the Christmas break.

Grades would be sent over e-mail and on the school platform and a parent-teacher meeting would happen in January, so for now all you had to do was tidy the classroom a bit so you wouldn't come back to a big mess.

"Do you need help?", one of the cleaning staff asked you as they pushed the cart along the corridor.

"No, I'm fine, thank you though! The classroom is not looking so bad - Mark thought it was funny to do the drawings I asked them to on the table, but I had him clean all of that out and I think we've finally won over that bug that was going around because the bin barely has any tissues!", you cheered like you had just won a championship.

"Just in time for them to go home and spend time with all the extended family and friends and catch some other bug, right?", the older lady joked and you laughed along.

"I tidied this the best I could so this one is hopefully quick for you to clean - thank you", you smiled as you grabbed your bags, making sure nothing important was left behind before leaving the room, "I hope your holidays are nice too, I'll see you in January!".

You got in the car and drove home, hoping to find a small chaos since Carlos said he would get everything ready for you to fly out to spend the holiday time with his family in Spain, volunteering to pick up the kids from school so he could get them ready to travel too.

"Mis amores, I'm home!", you gave them a quick shout before putting your things away in the office, having already packed them in separate bags so you could leave the backpack with the things you didn't need in the office and take only the things you needed already in the backpack you would fly with.

"Mama!", Clara was the first to greet you at the door, letting you pull her up so you could hug her, "I'm all dressed for the flight!", she smiled, twirling around in the tracksuit. Since the flight would arrive late, it would be best to have the kids dressed in comfortable clothes given that they would probably fall asleep and in the event that they would arrive at Carlos' parents already asleep, it wouldn't be too bad if they slept in them.

"I can see that, is papa getting the boys ready?", you kissed her cheek and walked up with her to the boys' bedroom.

Mateo was sitting in the play area, his fingers holding finger puppets while Carlos put Benjamín's sweater on, making you sit down with him.

"Why don't we show mama just how handsome you two look?", your husband said as he allowed him to go to the floor and join his brother in the cuddle you had him on.

"Mama! We're matching!", Benjamín said, leaving a splotchy kiss on your cheek and showing you the sweatshirt and sweatpants set all three kids had. When you spotted the Christmas themed Disney sets, you had to get them. While the boys had the dark blue version, Clara had the pine green one.

"You look really cute, guys! Are they comfy?", you wondered.

"Yes, feels nice, it's not itchy", Mateo offered and his siblings nodded before you pulled yourself up to your feet, Carlos helping you and landing you on his chest.

"Hello, beautiful", he greeted, kissing your lips after what felt like an eternity as he watched you and your kids. He would happily stare at the four of you forever, but a kiss was needed.

"Hey, amor", you spoke, "seems like you did just fine getting these three monkeys ready to go", you smiled.

"Don't be fooled by it - the boys were not happy they had to have a bath since they weren't going to bed yet, so there were some negotiations and some tantrums", Carlos chuckled.

"Mama, did you know we're flying tonight?", Clara asked, big brown eyes looking up at you as she pulled on your pants' leg.

"Yes, I did! We're going to see abuela and abuelo for Christmas!", you agreed, "which means I also have to go and put something comfortable on, pack what's left and then we can head out!", you clapped your hands.

Changing into an appropriate outfit, you put the last minute things in your luggage before heading down, Carlos already buckling the kids in their car seats while you fit the test of the carry-ons on the car boot.

Driving to the airport was a nice challenge since you wanted to keep the kids awake until you boarded the plane to make things easier and not change their sleep routine too much, meaning that you blasted every Bluey album you had, singing along loudly with the three children.

"Why can't I push the trolley?", Mateo asked as Carlos pushed the trolley with all the bags.

"Because it's to heavy for you, buddy - papa will do it and you hold my hands", you assured, stretching them out once your backpack was secured on, "Clara, stay close to papa, okay?", you warned.

It certainly wasn't the first time you were travelling all together - even though you didn't travel to races as much as you did when it was just you, the kids would often be in most of the European races and a few other ones outside of the continent too -, but your stress levels were still the usual.

"Relax, amor, I packed everything we needed, and if by chance something is missing, either my parents or my sisters will have it or we can go to the store and get it", Carlos tranquilized as you sat in the lounge, the kids happily eating some dry cereal from the bowl.

"I know, I think the school stress is still here somehow even though I've left everything ready and done with - I only have those reports to finish on monday", you sighed as your husband rubbed your shoulders.

"You don't have to worry, okay?", he assured, pulling you to rest on his chest until you got the flight call to board.

The flight itself was fine, the kids staying awake without making too much of a mess and entertaining themselves with their sticker books. As soon as you got to the car, though, everyone was out like a light before you left the airport parking zone.

"Welcome back!", Reyes was the first to greet you as Carlos' stopped the car

Putting his finger in front of lips so they wouldn't be too loud, Carlos spoke softly, "they fell asleep right away, if one of you could help us with them, please", he said as his father took Clara in his arms while you and your husband took each of the boys.

"I'll bring your luggage inside, dears", your moment in-law assured as you walked upstairs to the bedroom where the kids would sleep in.

Tucking the kids with some coos and shushes, you were able to come back to the kitchen and be met with some snacky bits Reyes prepared, "have something to eat and drink, I'm sure it will do you good", she smiled as you sat around the table, catching up for a bit before you retired to your respective bedrooms for the night.

.

"This year I decided I wanted to bake our own roscón", Reyes announced as she got the ingredients out of the cupboard, not missing the wide-eyed looks and scoff from her children and her husband, "why is it no one has faith in me to pull it off?", she reasoned.

"Mama - it's just, you've never done it", Ana reasoned as her siblings nodded.

"For you to be able to say you can do something, you have to do something you've never done before", the matriarch offered.

"I believe you can do it, abuela", Clara added, "mama always says that when we want to do something, we have to put our minds to it and work as much as we can for it!".

"See? At least someone thinks I can do it - you can be my sous-chef, cariño", she smiled at her granddaughter, "do you boys want to join us?".

"Abuelo said he has a new toy car that we can play with him and papa outside", Benjamín hugged her legs and Mateo followed and replied with "I know you'll do well, abuela".

"Off you go then - means I also get your mama all to myself because not only does she have a magic finger for baking - and I do need all the help I can get - and I won't have all of you stealing her from me", she giggled, tapping their noses and letting them go outside.

Reyes loved all her children the same, and her daughters were no exception to her love. When she found out her only son was enamoured by someone, she wanted to meet the young woman who had taken her boy's heart. Since then, you always felt included in their family activities and like you were her third daughter.

"How has school been?", she asked as you followed the recipe on the propped up iPad, measuring the ingredients and setting them apart.

"My little ones are finally able to do some independent work, they're confident enough to do it and that gives me more time to prepare different things to do with them - I've been really enjoying teaching this class", you smiled, helping Clara with the eggs to make sure no shells fell in the bowl.

"That's nice to hear - you know, Carlos used to worry a lot about you running yourself too much and overworking, especially now with three kids, so I can't hide the fact that I'm happy that it's becoming easier on you", Reyes stated.

"There are hard days - they will always be even if I work all day or no time at all -, but we've got a routine down with them, Carlos is spending as much time home as he can and so far, there hasn't so been much to worry about", you offered.

After kneading everyhting and waiting for the three hours the recipe recalled, you began decorating it.

"Abuela, does this one look good next to this one?", Clara wondered as she displayed the candied fruits on the dough.

"Yes, amor, it looks very delicious - we can only hope it will taste delicious as well!", Reyes kissed her cheek and mixed the sugar with water before sprinkling the mixture.

.

"Are we ready to start writing our letters?", Carlos Sr clapped his hands before joining the kids at the table, Mateo already holding the glue.

"Yes, we're ready, abuelo! Can you help me with my spelling, please?", Clara asked.

The boys were too young to write, so they chose to draw instead and your daughter still required some help.

"Tres Reyes Magos, my name is Clara Sainz, and this year I have been a good girl. I always did as I was told and I did really well in school too - Do you think that's good, abuelo?", your daughter wondered, wanting to know her grandfather's opinion on the start of her letter.

"That's good, cariño - now, you have to write to them what you'd like to get for a present", your father in-law praised, turning his attention back to the boys' letters, "have you two decided what you're going to ask for?".

"Yes! I want this game here", Mateo said as he showed his drawing.

"I really hope they'll bring me this book", Benjamín showed his best attempt of the cover his grandfather had seen you wrap the night before, smiling at the prospect.

"Let's hope they'll bring you those, then", the oldest Sainz in the room said.

"Are we going to watch the Cabalgata tomorrow?", Mateo asked, "I saw some photos from last year but I don't remember much from them", he admitted.

"Yes, if all goes well - we usually go every year, I don't see why we can't go and watch it again", Carlos Sr smiled.

[loves-em]

Patchwork Blanket

HELLO! I've written this essay during the project I took part in that's mentioned in the post "bold and young". We did a workshop on creative writing, which is where this came into existance. The original is in German and sounds just so much nicer, but this is the English translation I made (mainly for my boyfriend). I thought I'd post it here as well.

For context: We were staying near Lübeck during this school trip. On one day, we spent the day there. This text is an inner monologue of mine, polished and tidied up a bit of course. It takes place just after I got home from Lübeck again. I entered the room I shared with two roommates, but I was 'home' before them.

Here goes!

I deserve to throw myself into the bed in my room! It’s been a long day and I did so much walking. Lübeck, as the city famous for its Marzipan, is a great place, so I do not regret the leg-work a single bit.

In the Marzipanspeicher (where they sell the Marzipan), I went shopping. For the whole family! Oh, who am I even kidding? I will have eaten most of it on my own before I even get home anyway. It simply tastes too good.

Two boxes of heart-shaped Marzipan-chocolates, a spread of Marzipan and apple, and a big box of simple Marzipan fragments is what I have bought. I am really craving a fragment right now! Let me just…

Hmmm… It is not as sweet as usual, so that is nice. I don’t like my Marzipan too sweet. But it still tastes the same. It tastes like childhood at my grandparent’s place in the deep winter. Like almonds and being inside where it’s warm. Hasn’t this taste always been by my side?

I haven't had such good Marzipan in forever. How can there even be people who don’t love Marzipan? None of my peers like it, at least I can't think of anyone right now. Even the young adults in my family always say that they don't like its taste. But OLD people, they know to appreciate Marzipan.

Why do I like it, then? I’m still pretty young. Oh right, I know, my grandparents. One who spends as much time at their grandparents place as me inevitably gets introduced to the “pleasures of Marzipan” early on. Especially grandpa, who always gave me his beloved Marzipan-chocolates. Had my grandparents not shown me Marzipan, then I wouldn’t love it as much as I do. Instead of the two boxes of chocolates, the spread, and the fragments, I would have only left the store with one box of chocolates for my grandparents. That’s it. Without any Marzipan for myself.

Surely there's more of those things, things I only enjoy because of my grandparents. Licorice! I probably only like that because of them, too. No one I know likes Licorice. Well okay, a few people do. But I only like it because of my grandparents.

Why limit it to my grandparents and food? There is so much more to it! How many video games and movies and TV series do I only enjoy because my friends have introduced me to them? How many places have I gone to and what things have I done, just because my friends have introduced me to them? How many idioms and phrases have I acquired because I took them with me from people whom I admire for their eloquence? So is nothing there is to me truly mine? I AM NOT ORIGINAL AND I AM NOT ALONE, I AM RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF LIFE AND I HAVE TAKEN EVERYTHING THAT I HAVE CALLED MINE SO FAR FROM OTHERS. Therefore I don’t love things on my own. I don’t do things on my own. I speak words that aren’t mine.

Am I made up fully of the other people around me and how they act? Am I only me because of these influences? And during all of it I feel like a puzzle on layers of reality I don't yet understand. As if I were a story that is being written by life right now. And isn’t it alright that way?

I am allowed to be like a dragon, sitting upon its gold pile of experiences and memories. A pile of events that made me become myself. Maybe, we humans are but a whirlwind of symbolisms and impressions, a composition born from the life around us itself. No one would be the way they are if not for all the things in life which have shaped them.

Shaped?

At birth, we are a piece of clay, aren't we? A piece of clay, which is processed with tools by all the things surrounding us. We get notched here, something gets taken off the side over there. On yet another side, a bit of clay is added.

We are all like this, I truly believe that. Yes, this must be human.

So people leave their marks on us. Good marks like my love for Marzipan, but also bad marks like trauma and anxiety. No one is left untouched by the things they experience.

THIS must be what makes us the people we are: EVERYTHING.

Isn’t this a beautiful thought? I am a multidimensional puzzle, a story, a dragon, a whirlwind, a composition and a simple piece of clay, shaped to who I am. I am allowed to be all these things and these metaphors are not even truly mine, but things which I have taken from others. I took them with me, into life, as souvenirs to my past.

My soul is a patchwork blanket.

(I hope it got you thinking! If it did and you'd like to share, feel free to do so. Critique is also welcome, I want to improve.)

[sardonicnihilism]

Missing

By Me

Chapter 4

The car ride back to Hector's was a quiet, miserable experience, thick with an oppressive tension that crushed any willingness or need to reach out to the other. Grief, anger, bitterness, fear all swirling together in a toxic, soul killing poison. It simultaneously kept them apart yet refused to let them separate. Even when they pulled up to his house, they both just sat there, unable to move, unable to talk.

Elana eventually reached for the door when Hector spoke. "You should have told me," he said in a quiet, angry, accusatory voice. "I should have been there. Kids need fathers, too."

Elana slowly turned to him with contempt radiating out of every pore in her body. "Yes, you should have been. So why weren't you?"

Hector snapped his head around, ready to unleash all his pain upon his ex. "Because you wouldn't allow me to! You shut me out, kept me away from my daughter! It wasn't enough for you to hate me, but you had to make sure she did as well!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Elana fired back, ready for battle, needing to do battle, "was I shutting you out when you were laying in the bars? Or going to bed with any two bit punta you could pick up? I never knew if or when you were coming home on Friday or Saturday nights. That's why I stopped making dinner for you. I was tired of seeing it grow cold and having to throw it out!"

"I was working all the time! Two, three jobs sometimes! Paying for our house, your schooling, our kid, our familia! I would work and work and work, and then I'd come home to you, my wife, and you would shut me out! A man has needs! He needs release! You weren't available!"

"I wasn't avaliable?! I wasn't? You ever think I was tired, too? I was going to school, cleaning the house, cooking the meals, looking after Lucia, and working a part-time job as well! You ever think maybe I needed 'release'? I wanted, I begged you to just stay with me. Hold my hand, do the dishes, let me rest un poco minuto, but all you wanted was me to lay down under you. I was your maid, mother, and whore, but never your partner, never your wife."

"And what was I, Elana? A paycheck, a security guard? What role did I have in your world? I wanted to hold your hand. I also wanted you to hold mine."

"The only thing you wanted me to hold was your cock," she said in a low, broken voice.

"I only wanted you to love me," he replied quietly, leaning against the car seat.

"Then why did you leave?" Elana asked with a cold fury.

"You divorced me, remember?"

"Hector, you left us long before I ever filled," Elana said with quiet resignation. She was spent too drained to continue this endless back and forth of blame and anger. She opened up the door, got out, went to her car, and drove off.

Hector just sat in anger, rage, despair, shame, regret, and a thousand other emotions whirling and slamming against his brain and heart. Eventually, he forced his way out and into his house. As soon as he entered, he looked all around his living room. Everything was so neat and tidy. Nothing was out of place. It was the home of a self-made man, a man who crawled from the lowest lows to achieve success. This was his home, his story, his testimony.

A primal scream slowly built in his stomach, rushed up his throat, and erupted from his mouth. He grabbed a coat rack and threw it as hard as he could at no place in particular. He rushed around, knocking books from shelves, pictures, and nick nacks, any and everything he could get his hands on, he sent flying or down to the ground. He tossed over chairs and flipped tables. He tore a clock off his wall and punched a mirror, which caused glass to explode everywhere, lacerating his face and hand. Blood poured from the wounds as he collapsed to the floor on all fours.

He panted like a mongrel, lolling his head back and forth, reduced to the most base and animalistic level. Then, something caught his eye, and he was snapped back to sentience. It was a picture, now broken and torn, of him, Elana, and Lucia when she was about 2 years old. They looked so happy, so much like a family. He reached out and picked it up, his blood staining it further. He started to both laugh and cry at the same time.

He rolled over on his back, shards of glass stabbing him in the back, but he was indifferent to them. To the night, to the sky, to the universe, God, Karma, ancestors, anyone, or thing that might be listening and take pity on him, he screamed, "LUCIA! LUCIA! LUCIA!"

**********************************************

Elana walked into her house and was greeted by a deafening silence. The house just didn't seem to be empty but was an engulfing, negative space. She didn't so much walk in it as she was sucked through a cosmic sea of nothingness by an invisible black hole.

As though pulled by some perverse hand, she found herself in Lucia's room. She sat on her daughter's bed, looking out at the night sky. The room and the outside world seemed to exist in parallel dimensions, side by side, neither touching or affecting the other. This was her world now, a world apart, separate, a world of silence and darkness. It was a world without Lucia.

Elana broke down, weeping in the way only those who have experienced the most profound of loss could recognize or understand. When it was done, she would play the blame game, ask herself the tough questions, rip herself apart upon the hooks of guilt, but for now, all she could do was cry.

[ilikedrita]

You cant prank me

#You cant prank me how to#

#You cant prank me tv#

Jimmy might be a sloppy prankster most of the time, but when it comes to pacifying a hot gal like Kiki, he's a true master. Knowing how much that would make him happy, kind Kiki allows Jimmy to rip open her one-piece so he can eat her out. She quickly realizes that the horny Jimmy's hard as fuck. "I want the booty!" yells Jimmy, and Kiki shoves his face between her butt cheeks. This vintage gift is perfect for birthdays, holidays. 3 daughters are a lot to handle - this is a good retro funny gift for dad. You Can't Scare Me I Have Three Daughters. Machine wash cold with like colors, dry low heat. If your attitude is bite me if you cant take a joke or your friend has no. Let them know you will need to file a formal complaint against a harassing caller. But, we need to be very sure that the prank we are playing on a person should. Our team of personable professionals is here to help you get things started whether you are thinking of buying or selling. No joke though, we can help you, at least with real estate. Kiki's mischievous roommate, Jimmy Michaels, tries to surprise her by pulling down on her one-piece suit. Solid colors: 100 Cotton Heather Grey: 90 Cotton, 10 Polyester All Other Heathers: 50 Cotton, 50 Polyester. Call your local police department on its non-emergency number. You might be able to prank me in my every day life, but when it comes to real estate. genuinely thinking that was enough to get a pizza delivered to me. An innocent prank becomes a nightmare for the pranksters when an old legend proves to be true. Pay in 4 interest-free installments for orders over 50 with. But pranks that go way out of line could be one that lands you in jail. Teddy Margulies, Peter Mitchell (Based on Teleplay By), R.L. If this occurs, and you cannot obtain the phone. Put a Just Because Glitter Bomb Card in the Box (30 off) + 5.99. However, if the prank call was made from an unlisted phone number, you will be told that the number is unknown. Put a Bag of Dick in the Box (30 off) + 9.99. with great and terrible moments that you cannot even imagine yet(John Green). Her butt looks stunning in her tight orange pants, and her blue one-piece is perfect with a large sweater. Put a Glitter Bomb In the Box (30 off) + 14.99. We decided to prank call a family friend who had a daughter our age.

#You cant prank me how to#

She taught her friends how to do special effects, wounds and scars.Gorgeous Kiki Klout feels so sexy in her new outfits. She wanted mannequin heads, and there was a whole class. “We took about eight kids, eight girls, and we went camping in the wilderness,” she said. North proved she’s already taking after her mother’s makeup skills. Kardashian said during her appearance on “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon” last month that her mini-me “wanted to teach her girlfriends” how to create spooky looks. It seems North may have a makeup career ahead of her, as she recently gave her friends a tutorial during her birthday getaway. It was bad.” North’s skills are so advanced that a housekeeper tried to call the authorities, thinking her makeup was a real crime scene. People won’t be able to tell the difference until they take a bite. “I had to let them know that it was completely just a prank and my kids were doing special effects makeup. Leave it in the fridge and wait until someone pours themselves a drink. “The housekeeper came and tried to call the authorities and called the homeowner thinking that it was a full, real murder scene,” Kardashian recalled. Kardashian opened up about the incident in a new interview. So when she left the messy house to drop her kids off at school the next day, the housekeeper arrived to quite the fright. Kardashian went on to explain how she “cleaned up” the kids, but was “too tired” at the time to tidy the whole room before bed. “She’s actually so good that I rented a house this summer … and she decided not only to prank me and do on her and Chicago, but she made the whole room look like a murder scene.” “North is really into special effects makeup, and she’s really good at it so I have a teacher come and show her special effects makeup where it’s like wounds and blood and tons of stuff,” Kardashian, 41, told Allure in a new interview. Not only is this illegal, but once your victim becomes suspicious of your call. He was very suspicious of us always on the edge. You cant pretend to be a police officer or an FBI agent over the phone.

#You cant prank me tv#

The reality TV star revealed that her and Kanye West’s 9-year-old daughter once staged a crime scene as part of a prank, but it looked so realistic that their housekeeper called the authorities. Me and friend were having a sleepover, and we were planning on pulling a prank on her little brother. North West is a little too good at special effects makeup, according to her mom, Kim Kardashian. Is North West sketching something creepy for Yeezy?