đž From One Motherâs Heart â Please Read đž
My name is Saja. Iâm a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow â from her first smile to her first steps â surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.
But life had other plans.
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War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.
There was a moment â a fragile, breathless moment â when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark â hiding, holding on, praying.
Iâm writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.
Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.
This is my life.
This is my daughterâs life.
And even now â especially now â I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.
Why Iâm Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.
Thatâs why I keep going.
Iâve launched a campaign to ask for help â not because itâs easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.
How You Can Help: đ€ Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity đ€ Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources đ€ Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war
đ If you can, please support our journey here:
My name is Saja. I am a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza trying to hold on â to hope, to my family, and to a life that no
If you canât give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.
From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe youâve never lived through war. But if youâve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them â then you understand more than you know.
I donât want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.
Please, if youâve read this far â thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like itâs a lifeline.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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[inspired by this post from tiktok] ((the user have great POV vids check em out!!))
đ/đ: So, what happens to your lovely men when your toxic infatuation seeps into their core and breaks them from inside? Shall we check the progress? đ„°
 {a manipulative tactic that involves giving someone a backhanded compliment in what is essentially an insult masquerading as a compliment.}
.......     Â
                    Â
For most his his life, Rafayel was always confident, finding himself in unfortunate situation was like a sore on his arm, just few stretches and it's gone. his flexible tendencies was to thank for that, the ability adapt to to any environments, even with dim atmosphere.Â
or so he thought, when you walked into his life. Rafayel wouldn't admit it but to you, he always listens. always keep an open ears for you, focusing on your perspectives and consider your opinions, no matter the odds. it all started with a small critize, just one, pointed at his best work. you sounded so genuine and caring for his improvement, so he changed that bit of shade.
even the finishing looked.. off. He didn't care. He trusted you. after all, it just one different shade.
Rafayel couldn't quite pinpoint when did it exactly happen, but slowly, critisisms started to direct at him.
From his choice of colors, to his way of clothing to his way of joking, everything. not one spot you haven't criticized, and he still, listened. he was flexible person, and so, he started to change. his ways, his approach and his colors.
Walking along your lines, following your directions, if it wasn't approved by you he backs away, to wherever your voice leads him, he swims towards it, even to the coldest pits of the sea. That's how much Rafyael put his faith on you. no matter how harshly it would wound him, or how cold it sounded when he reached for this sunny warmth to grace him once again.
as the time passed, His paintings looked different, colors that used to hold scene of familiarity for him was fading in the deepest of his palettes. down to where he couldn't find them. He would get irritated, confused and lost. Art was always his way to express himself, to get out his colors and capture the insignificant thoughts to reality.
So now, why weren't they glowing like before?
When you were done with your hunting, youe phone notifications would be filled with spams, instead of the usual poking and performances rafayel would throw at you, it would be filled with many photos. Him asking your opinion on every single one of his pallette,then it would transform to him wanting you there, beside him.
You could hear the desperation into his voice, calling out for you like he was trapped from the darkest abyss. Just for abit of painting. The music that once danced through Rafayel room froze, the sunlight bathing warmth on his canvas was dimmed, it was quiet and dark .
since you would complain how it blinded you, so he made the room comfortable for your eyes more than his.
it would cause him headaches how hard he would squint his eyes to fixate on the pallete, but it doesn't matter. He didn't want you annoyed once you enter this room. Rafayel would keep turning toward the door, waiting for your arrival, waiting for his inspiration to walk in and emerge his weak flames once again.
a shaky breath left his lips as the room was still empty, eeirly quiet.
"where is she now... Didn't she say she would come?"
He opened his phone to check the single reply you send.
"will see about that, ttyl <3"
You were hunting so of course you would be busy, but, that still meant you would come, You wouldn't just keep leave him hanging, right?
Rafayel shook his head waving away his dull thoughts, he moved his head slowly toward that single light pulp, ilumunating his room, only abit.
the light, like his painting was also pale, the vibrant bright orb has been dipped down to a very faint yellow. Rafayel let out a weak chuckle, even that color would look way interesting on his painting.
He just couldn't understand, everytime he looked at it, it was so... Boring.
Huh...
"boring.. This painting.."
That a word he didn't think he would ever use. he blinked slowly, reaching his fingers to brush against his wet paint. no, what was he saying that now at his work? His work was never boring. It couldn't be. if it were then so many people wouldn't have wasted their time to observe it, many authorities even come from the other side of the world just to watch his work. so this couldn't be true.
Unless..
he was as boring as them.
"hah..."
No, no. no. what was he thinking? He wasn't like them, he isn't even a human. He's lumirian. He's different, he has his own flame, bright and red. not just like this faint ugly yellow. and you see it too, don't you? he didn't become boring to you.. Right?
.......
He groans again, rubbing his head, those irritating thoughts. Why coudlnt they just get away everytime he brushed them. It's like a swarm of leeches, thrown at him and attached for dear life. His flame was what they are sucking out, leaving their marks no matter how he yanks them.
unknown to him, one of those leeches were you. dimming his light, one by one, till it runs out. Not even alongside the weak pulps.Â
his phone gave a ring, despite his hazy eyes, Rafayel sat up and snatched the phone to his ears, for a moment his face hopeful.
"[Name]??"
But then, the voice speaks, it wasn't you. Which causes him to huff. it was Thomas
"what do you want? It late" Rafayel asks, impatient already.
"well, technically, it's still evening.. But nevermind that, I was calling to check.. How is your work going?"
the man blinks few times, craning his neck to gaze at the gap between his curtains. Huh.. It was close to sunset..
Maybe that's why you still hadn't come, then that means toward midnight you might arrive.
He would really use some help now. His eyes might be having difficult times to tell colors apart even, they are all close to eachother... Did he need glasses? do you think it would suit him even?
maybe few more hours till you arrive wouldn't hurt, yeah, maybe.
"um, Rafayel ?"
"huh?"
Oh right, he was still on the phone. a low sigh is heard from the other end. for a second as Thomas speaks again, he sounded hesitant to ask, fearing the answer.
"are you going to... be able to attend tomorrow's event, mister Rafayel?" he stuck with his professionalism, despite the slight urgency appearing still.
Rafayel shook his head then realized Thomas wouldn't see him
"no. I dont think so this time."
This has became an expected answer from him lately, but even when Thomas was so close to Rafayel, he woudont are cross the line to complain. no matter what.
There is a long pause before an inhale is taken. "I See, I will try to pinpoint the event to another day.... Again."
"yes, please do." Rafayel takes away his phone and was about to hang up, he needed to call you and see when are you going to arrive. till he heard Thomas call his voice. His eyebrows creasing.
"what is it?" his harsh tone causes Thomas to pause again then ask a little carefully so he perhaps doesn't end up fired somehow.
"are you sure.. You are alright? do we have to cancel this whole event till you announce a come-back?"
.........
"no, I will attend that event. Just not tomorrow."Â Â 'not when she isn't with me'
"alright sir, as you want" and with that the call is over. It takes few blinks for Rafayel to realize he is just gazing at his own reflection.
His face looked so uninterested, bored even. if you were there right now, he bet he would have finished his work and been more, energetic, awake atleast.
well it doesn't matter, he would wait till you arrive, he even made sure you would accomply him, it's unfortunate he didn't look his best and would have to bother you for another day, so you could stick beside him.
Rafayel didn't care if you treated him harshly, whether it was on purpose or not. Ignore him, toss him, belittle him even, he's still going to stick by you.
Because even when everything's so dark and dull, you are his light he would follow; In the darkest pits of the ocean.
[inspired by this post from tiktok] ((the user have great POV vids check em out!!))
đ/đ: So, what happens to your lovely men when your toxic infatuation seeps into their core and breaks them from inside? Shall we check the progress? đ„°
 {a manipulative tactic that involves giving someone a backhanded compliment in what is essentially an insult masquerading as a compliment.}
.......     Â
                    Â
For most his his life, Rafayel was always confident, finding himself in unfortunate situation was like a sore on his arm, just few stretches and it's gone. his flexible tendencies was to thank for that, the ability adapt to to any environments, even with dim atmosphere.Â
or so he thought, when you walked into his life. Rafayel wouldn't admit it but to you, he always listens. always keep an open ears for you, focusing on your perspectives and consider your opinions, no matter the odds. it all started with a small critize, just one, pointed at his best work. you sounded so genuine and caring for his improvement, so he changed that bit of shade.
even the finishing looked.. off. He didn't care. He trusted you. after all, it just one different shade.
Rafayel couldn't quite pinpoint when did it exactly happen, but slowly, critisisms started to direct at him.
From his choice of colors, to his way of clothing to his way of joking, everything. not one spot you haven't criticized, and he still, listened. he was flexible person, and so, he started to change. his ways, his approach and his colors.
Walking along your lines, following your directions, if it wasn't approved by you he backs away, to wherever your voice leads him, he swims towards it, even to the coldest pits of the sea. That's how much Rafyael put his faith on you. no matter how harshly it would wound him, or how cold it sounded when he reached for this sunny warmth to grace him once again.
as the time passed, His paintings looked different, colors that used to hold scene of familiarity for him was fading in the deepest of his palettes. down to where he couldn't find them. He would get irritated, confused and lost. Art was always his way to express himself, to get out his colors and capture the insignificant thoughts to reality.
So now, why weren't they glowing like before?
When you were done with your hunting, youe phone notifications would be filled with spams, instead of the usual poking and performances rafayel would throw at you, it would be filled with many photos. Him asking your opinion on every single one of his pallette,then it would transform to him wanting you there, beside him.
You could hear the desperation into his voice, calling out for you like he was trapped from the darkest abyss. Just for abit of painting. The music that once danced through Rafayel room froze, the sunlight bathing warmth on his canvas was dimmed, it was quiet and dark .
since you would complain how it blinded you, so he made the room comfortable for your eyes more than his.
it would cause him headaches how hard he would squint his eyes to fixate on the pallete, but it doesn't matter. He didn't want you annoyed once you enter this room. Rafayel would keep turning toward the door, waiting for your arrival, waiting for his inspiration to walk in and emerge his weak flames once again.
a shaky breath left his lips as the room was still empty, eeirly quiet.
"where is she now... Didn't she say she would come?"
He opened his phone to check the single reply you send.
"will see about that, ttyl <3"
You were hunting so of course you would be busy, but, that still meant you would come, You wouldn't just keep leave him hanging, right?
Rafayel shook his head waving away his dull thoughts, he moved his head slowly toward that single light pulp, ilumunating his room, only abit.
the light, like his painting was also pale, the vibrant bright orb has been dipped down to a very faint yellow. Rafayel let out a weak chuckle, even that color would look way interesting on his painting.
He just couldn't understand, everytime he looked at it, it was so... Boring.
Huh...
"boring.. This painting.."
That a word he didn't think he would ever use. he blinked slowly, reaching his fingers to brush against his wet paint. no, what was he saying that now at his work? His work was never boring. It couldn't be. if it were then so many people wouldn't have wasted their time to observe it, many authorities even come from the other side of the world just to watch his work. so this couldn't be true.
Unless..
he was as boring as them.
"hah..."
No, no. no. what was he thinking? He wasn't like them, he isn't even a human. He's lumirian. He's different, he has his own flame, bright and red. not just like this faint ugly yellow. and you see it too, don't you? he didn't become boring to you.. Right?
.......
He groans again, rubbing his head, those irritating thoughts. Why coudlnt they just get away everytime he brushed them. It's like a swarm of leeches, thrown at him and attached for dear life. His flame was what they are sucking out, leaving their marks no matter how he yanks them.
unknown to him, one of those leeches were you. dimming his light, one by one, till it runs out. Not even alongside the weak pulps.Â
his phone gave a ring, despite his hazy eyes, Rafayel sat up and snatched the phone to his ears, for a moment his face hopeful.
"[Name]??"
But then, the voice speaks, it wasn't you. Which causes him to huff. it was Thomas
"what do you want? It late" Rafayel asks, impatient already.
"well, technically, it's still evening.. But nevermind that, I was calling to check.. How is your work going?"
the man blinks few times, craning his neck to gaze at the gap between his curtains. Huh.. It was close to sunset..
Maybe that's why you still hadn't come, then that means toward midnight you might arrive.
He would really use some help now. His eyes might be having difficult times to tell colors apart even, they are all close to eachother... Did he need glasses? do you think it would suit him even?
maybe few more hours till you arrive wouldn't hurt, yeah, maybe.
"um, Rafayel ?"
"huh?"
Oh right, he was still on the phone. a low sigh is heard from the other end. for a second as Thomas speaks again, he sounded hesitant to ask, fearing the answer.
"are you going to... be able to attend tomorrow's event, mister Rafayel?" he stuck with his professionalism, despite the slight urgency appearing still.
Rafayel shook his head then realized Thomas wouldn't see him
"no. I dont think so this time."
This has became an expected answer from him lately, but even when Thomas was so close to Rafayel, he woudont are cross the line to complain. no matter what.
There is a long pause before an inhale is taken. "I See, I will try to pinpoint the event to another day.... Again."
"yes, please do." Rafayel takes away his phone and was about to hang up, he needed to call you and see when are you going to arrive. till he heard Thomas call his voice. His eyebrows creasing.
"what is it?" his harsh tone causes Thomas to pause again then ask a little carefully so he perhaps doesn't end up fired somehow.
"are you sure.. You are alright? do we have to cancel this whole event till you announce a come-back?"
.........
"no, I will attend that event. Just not tomorrow."Â Â 'not when she isn't with me'
"alright sir, as you want" and with that the call is over. It takes few blinks for Rafayel to realize he is just gazing at his own reflection.
His face looked so uninterested, bored even. if you were there right now, he bet he would have finished his work and been more, energetic, awake atleast.
well it doesn't matter, he would wait till you arrive, he even made sure you would accomply him, it's unfortunate he didn't look his best and would have to bother you for another day, so you could stick beside him.
Rafayel didn't care if you treated him harshly, whether it was on purpose or not. Ignore him, toss him, belittle him even, he's still going to stick by you.
Because even when everything's so dark and dull, you are his light he would follow; In the darkest pits of the ocean.
Prefacing this with: This was quick iffy practice on Procreate so it's not super great - I just really really just want to see Ragatha do something hard to forgive -
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
HALLOWEEN was a fun holiday to celebrate. that's how most perceive it at least.
each one had their own way of enjoying it; from walking to strangers houses for candies, to teenagers scaring themselves with horror movies, to going for the 'bone-chilling' journey to for ghost hunting, and the list went on.
no matter the age, all were welcomed to join in Halloween's spirit.
Ford remembers how excited he and Stan used to get for that month. they could pull all the tricks they want and wouldn't get much trouble for it. without going too far of course. his brother would get a bit eager with his ideas.
like that one time, instead of walking around asking for trick-or-treats, Stan came out with the idea of scaring other kids in exchange of their candies.
the plan was simple, Stan would go to some kids, alone, and challenge them if they could handle his his really scary stories, if they screamed they would have to give in their treats.
finding that ridiculous thus wanting to prove Stan wrong, those kids would end up following him to where he wants anyway, to a darker area away from everyone. as he allure them with those scary tales most of his age already knew, some would eventually roll their eyes or yawn, just loud enough to show how unfazed they were.
until Stan's voice would turn lower near the best part, he lingers on the ending, as there is a pause for a better effect, his listeners lean closer to catch it. his flashlight is the most illumanting part in the dark.
then a jumpscare.
and there's always a scream after that jumpscare.
Mostly because Ford jolts out of behind his brother with a big mask over his face, grunting in the loudest way possible to take them off guard. now, if that was done out of nowhere, it wouldn't be as effective as the twin've done it.
with couple of groaning and huffs from those kids, they gave out a huge chucnk of their treats in annoyance. complaining how that was a scam and it wasn't fair to catch them off guard. but as Stan would proudly says.
"a deal is a deal! no takeâbacks!"
his palm is outstretched for the last kid to put in his candy, with a grumble from him he leaves.
Stan looks happily at the various kinds of candy he collected till his grin falls off.
"what the heck, peanut butter flavor?? BLGEEH who eats that?? Hey you! You did that on purpose, I don't want all that peanut butter crap, get here! â"
"it's okay Stanely, leave him , we have loads of other flavors anyway" Ford assure him as he leads him to where they kept their savings.
Stan rolled his eyes. "still, I got cheated on that one."
"you're really talking about cheating?" he deadpanned.
"we earned those candies! it's called 'tricks' for heaven's sake. But THATâ" he got his palm up, full of the orange wrapped toffees. "â that's a scam."
Ford chuckled, shaking his head at his brother. As they went to count ow many they had loaded.
"woah, that's more than I expected, it would last for the next few days!" Ford exclaims as he looks at his brother.
"days?? That would last for weeks OR MONTHS or heck! , a FULL year!" his twin marvels at the big bag they filled. it got heavier than they could hold it, so they started dragging it together. Grinning ear-to-ear to eachother. they high-fived before chanting,
"pines pines pines!"
It was a big victory for them being able to collect all those type of candies, even if they had ungrateful flavors in the mix, they still had plenty of other options.
"just you wait when pa sees this, he gonna lose his marbles! Haha!" Stan added, laughing.
Ford joined him. "if he did, he will restrict us from eating it all, Stanely. But yeah, that's ALOT of candies there. that trick worked better than I expected."
"right?! You always came out at the exact moment I wanted you to, you're really good at those impressions too! That Micheal kid almost peed his pants and he is twice my size."
They both chuckled, as Ford added.
"yeah true, but you who came with that idea in the first place, so, you deserve it Stanely. That was really clever."
Stan grins with pride, his brother has always found ways to shine on his perks whenever the chance.
He tries to shrug it off however as he replies, "oh stoop it, it was nothin' ya just gotta know how to keep them hooked with your story."
"but that's how it worked! your storytelling gets many people hooked in, even I was interested to know what happened to that girl in yellow hood, that's how much good you are."
Stanely was the type to shrug things off even when doing a spectacular job in what he admired. didn't mean he wasn't secretly enjoying compliments of course, he was just too shy to openly accept them.
On the other hand, Ford's aura attracted praises. Mostly from his parents, the teachers and any adult who got to know Ford as the 'clever' twin. Their father was always about looks and reputations, when it comes to success. He never missed a chance to show off his kid to his friends or co-workers.
While Stan just stood there, watching them keep praising his brother. He was happy for him or course, no doubt in that.
H knew he wasn't as amazing as Ford But sometimes, Stan wished his father would give him some recognitions like he was proud Stan was his son.
He didn't know when he would see it, but maybe, one day, when Stan something really really cool, his pa would finally be impressed by him.
'One day...' Stan sighed as his gaze returned to the crowded street they were striding through. other kids still roamed in streets, a knocking on doors. Some walked along their friends, other along with their parents. Stan thought for abit, as he looked at the houses and those adults smiling down on kids coustmes. then his focus went to a particular house with no decoration on, other than those paper towels thrown on most of its garden.
That house had no single kids in sight. since the old lady there hardly participate into Halloween celebration. believing it to be Devil's celebration and so.
an idea started to steer into Stan's mind. He stopped into his tracked and nudged his brother.
"Hey Poindexter, look, at that house over there." he pointed ahead of them.
His brother glanced at the house, only blinking slowly. " Ms. Benson's house? What's about it?"
Ford turned to his brother, not understanding what was he smirking for. if they went to go trickâorâTreat at her door she wouldn't even answer. plus, didn't they have loads of candies already?
"weell, I heard she bakes really delicious pies!like lots of pies, almost everyday, it's like she only eats Pies for a living!"
which was an exasperation on his part, she didn't bake pies everyday.
On the other hand, her neighbours did mention how her house smelled like bakings and sweets. Stan eavedropped about Kids complaining, wishing they could at least taste a slice of her pies, even once.
She used to be a baker back in her days and she didn't seem to stop after retirement. but Ms. Benson didn't like Halloween nor kids who participated in 'devil's celebrations', thus, no pie to gain from that.
Ford explained to Stan, yet his smirk didn't waver, in the end Ford gave in and asked what he was thinking because he wasn't catching on.
"com'oon Sixer think! she wouldn't surely give us anything If we asked, but there could be another way to do so."
after a few blinks Ford gapepd.
"you want us to pull the same trick on her? but Stanely she is too old! what if she gets too scared?"
His brother shrug it as no big deal. he waved his hand. "pshh, do you really believe that? Ms. Benson barely believes in ghosts or so, it won't scare her that bad. You could see it as a kind of performance for her ya know? It will be fun! maybe even impressive enough she will give us one of her pies! "
Stan seemed to be so confident in his idea, not seeing a flaw with it. he could already taste it success! It wouldn't be that much of scare as his brother thought as well. one of them would drag her further away from her door while the other would pull on some sort of a 'ghosty' custome (they had to snatch one of those decoration somehow) and boo! Surprise time.
however, there was still a hesitation on Ford's face. "but why? We don't need the pie, we already have lots of treats." he mentioned back with his hand to the bag behind them.
"our plan worked perfectly with all the other kids, why can't we try it with a grown-up! "
"that's twice a grown-up Ms. Benson is, Stanely." Ford emphasized.
"which would make it twice impressive! and who knows, maybe Ms. Benson will change her mind and not see that holiday like some kind of Devil's tea party or somthin." he waved with his hand as he glanced back at his brother, smiling with a hopeful look.
"I know you could do it Sixer, we both can show her how fun Halloween is. So, are ya with me?" Stan reached out his hand, waiting for his brother to shake it as an affirmation.
It was already over when Stan sat his mind on something. he's just that stubborn when it came to prove something. besides tricking wanting to trick old woman there was something else, which unfortunately, Ford couldn't pinpoint in that moment.
He also knew he wouldn't be able to refuse, because as wrong that sounded for him, Stan was making it too interesting to refuse. with a Huff, Ford took Stan's hand.
"fine, under one condition!" Ford warned, not shaking his brother's hand yet, he looked seriously at his brother.
who just shrugged his shoulders. "sure, what is it?"
"if Ms. Benson doesn't answer the door immediately we leave her door. Deal?"
The boy grinned, revealing his tooth gap. that's it? Well, if it would put his brother's mind at ease then, yeah he could do that. either way his brother would be beside him, that was more than enough. Besides, what could go wrong with a simple prank?
Good god, I have been working on this for a while. What originally started out as small storyboard pro practice, ended up becoming an actual project. There was a good amount of time when I wasnât sure I would finish it, but here it is. I hope you enjoy it!
WAIT, you ARE THE ONE WITH THAT YOUTUBE VIDEO?? WTH HOW DIDNT I NOTICE THIS THIS WAS AN AMAZING JOB, I FRRR THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO MAKE IT INTO A MINI-SHOW NFMFMFMG
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Thinking about the idea I had a LONG time ago about Mabel sending motivational and complimenting stickers for the boys and Ford saving a âwrite your own messageâ one just for Stan and had to draw it.
Yeah I see stan 'interacting' in this journal since it's THEIR adventure and stuff, of course with some good art from stan haha... Please, just please give me some sea grunks content Alex, I want to know how stan draws.
I tried my best copying the gravity fall's style. Oh well
This all of course is an early testing, it's the first time I use that artstyle but anyway! Couldn't wait to share with you what I have been planning for days! ever since the book of Bill I couldn't rest, I had to know what these two could be their adventure! so, yeah, if there is no spin-off or mini-series for now I ain't gonna sleep on em.
confession: i have never ONCE inserted myself into a reader insert
i usually read them just for the character's personality like i never imagine myself WITH the character does that make sense. like y/n is just y/n it's not my name đ
its just strange for me like im sorry why am i there im just. like just lemme observe and like third wheel ... with myself
i kind of wish i could but it's just too awks 4 me soz
Idk why but am SOOO glad someone said it! Like we aren't alone in this :D
And funny enough, sometimes i would search for 'unique' names for different fanfics depending on fandoms. for example, if the fandom rakes place in japan (BNHA, any anime related. .etc) the name would be Japanese. if it's american ke just. . usual? Searching for any good name that it suits.
And i ALWAYS have to take like 5 minutes to make that persona in myhead before i continue reading the chapter (also sometimes i change em, so i dont get bored LMAO)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Synopsis! It was fairly obvious you had crush on your long term best friend, Miles Morales. It was also obvious that his twin brother Milo, was a pain in your ass.
PT 1 > PT 2 (current)
MASTERLIST
Genre: Fluff, slight angst if you squint, slight suggestion if you squint
Warnings: strong language I think thatâs it
Word count: 3.3k
Authors comments: if you were in the taglist but not @ itâs because someone deleted it! sorry for my long break guys but Iâm back, Been a lil stressed but hopefully this makes up for it <3
Everytime you would come over to see him, somehow his counterpart always got involved. It had gotten to the point that when you left, he would find himself angry with Milo.
Sure he knew it wasnât Miloâs fault he was mad. Truthfully there wasnât anything wrong with you interacting with Milo.
But this wasnât how you two normally interacted.
Miles saw the way Miloâs eyes lingered when you would walk away, a little too long for his liking. Or how you would just somehow always find yourself play-fighting with Milo. And not the usual MMA brawls you two used to have-, no. Just somehow, it would always end with Milo holding you waist and you two laughing, screaming at him to let go of you.
Miles didnât know why this made him so annoyed. I mean, he knew it was different to see you and Milo being kind to each other, but it shouldnât have made him mad.
For the longest, Miles knew he was the only twin you enjoyed being around.
He knew how much you hated Milo. You would talk about how much you wanted to stick Miloâs hand in a dish disposal.
But now? You looked at his hands carefully to see the designs of his rings, sometimes even trying them on.
He should be happy if anything, all heâs ever wanted was for you three to be able to hang out peacefully.
But this was too damn peaceful.
Every weekend you found yourself at the Morales home, this weekend being no different.
And just like usual, you were arguing with Milo. âYou talk too muchâ he mumbled as he rolled his eyes, grabbing a cup from the cabinet. You glared at him as you leaned on the counter next to him, scowling. âBoy you know good and well I will not hesitate to pop you in your throat.â You scoffed, taking a sip from your water.
He chuckled, âstay mad I beat you. Not my fault you trash.â He shrugged as he filled his cup with juice, looking at you amused as he put the lid back on.
âYou won barely.â You held your thumb and pointer finger up together in close proximity to further your point. âAnd you got in my way, I wouldâve won if you didnât wave yoâ hand in my face.â You smacked your lips, looking away from him with an eye roll.
âAll Iâm hearinâ is excuses ma. Just admit Iâm better than you will ever be.â
âShut yo daddy long leg ass upâ, you rolled your eyes looking at his figure up and down. The gray sweats and black wife beater combo he was wearing clearly showed how lanky (yet oddly muscular) he was. He smirked at you, âyou just wanted nâ excuse to call me daddyâ.
A small âtuhâ left your lips, âif I wanted to call you daddy I wouldâve said soâ. He turned to fully face you, walking slightly closer so he was right in front of you.
He grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact with you as he licked his lips. âWe both know you want toâ.
You stared at him wide eyed, ignoring the feeling of heat slightly raising to your cheeks.
Milo burst out cackling, almost spilling his juice on you. âYour face! You look like a lemur.â He held his stomach, closing his eyes, thinking what he said was so funny.
Furrowing your eyebrows at his odd (and somewhat disturbing) comparison, you rolled your eyes and walked past him. âYou doin too much. And hurry up Miles is waiting for us-, annoyinâ assâ
âWait for me King Julian!â
âMilo swear I wonât kill youâ
Another weekend at the Miles Morales home.
This time Rio was cooking dinner. She had assigned you and Milo to go to the small store on the corner and fetch some more cilantro and lime.
Usually, Miles and you would be the ones assigned store duties, but Rio decided today was the day she would teach Miles to not burn the house down with his cooking.
âŠ
âEw look at that ratâ you pointed disgusted, seeing the large half bald rat scurrying around quickly a few feet away. Milo turned his head away from the creature âwhy would you point that out.â He scowled, walking a little quicker. âAye donât leave me with that!â You caught up to him, turning back a few times to make sure it wasnât getting any closer.
The trip to the store was quick. It didnât take longer than a few minutes, plus you had picked out a few snacks for the twins and you to share.
As you were walking home with Milo, you saw a small cardboard box with the word free written across it.
With a quick glance at Milo, you realized he hadnât noticed. Before he even saw that you were walking away from him, you were already crouching in front of the box.
Milo halted realizing you werenât next to him anymore. Mildly concerned, he looked around quickly.
He spotted you a few feet back with your hand in a random box.
Quickly walking over to you, the furrow in his eyebrows never left. âY/n âthe hell you doin?â
When he got closer, he saw the black kitten in the box. He also noticed how the kitten had taken a liking to you.
âNo.â
You turned to him offended, âMilo, we canât just leave it here.â
âThatâs exactly what weâre going to do. Now get up and cmonââ he lightly tugged your free hand. âMilo what if it dies out here?â He sighed, âThe next person will get it. Ainât our concern.â
You frowned, looking into his eyes. âMilo I canât leave it. It has no one.â
âMa, neither one of our homes has room or the time for a kitten. They pee everywhere and they stink. Plus they mean as hell. No.â
âŠ
The wide smile on your face couldâve been spotted from a mile away. It didnât take much after to convince Milo to take the cat with you two; it now in your coat pocket as you walked home.
He was annoyed at first, but after you forced him to interact with the kitten, he was quick to mumble out âmaybe we can sneak 'em aroundâ.
Milo wasnât going to tell you the real reason the cat could tag along was because he simply couldnât refuse with the way you were looking at him. Your face painted with big doe eyes and a slight pout made it almost impossible for him to ever say no.
And the wide happy smile that followed after he said yes?
Folded him like a damn chair.
âŠ
You figured out she was a girl, and both decided on the name âMilaâ.
Though Milo would never admit it, he loved the name. He loved even more the reasoning behind it.
âWhat should we name her?â You said, staring at her as you held her like simba in the opening scene of lion king.
âIon know, itâs your cat.â He shrugged, lightly pulling you and kept walking so you could get back to the house.
âItâs our cat, we found her together. Weâre her parents now.â You said mindlessly tucking her into your pocket, lightly rubbing her head as it stuck out.
Milo glanced at you. He knew you didnât mean the way it came out but his brain immediately ran with the implication of having a kid with you. And even if it was just a cat, it brought an unexpected swelling to his heart.
âMila.â He said softly, looking at you.
You smiled at her, not noticing Milo was gazing at you, âawe, thatâs yo name from yo daddy, girl. Itâs probably the only contribution he will ever make but at least itâs somethingâ you said jokingly, petting her head.
He smiled at you, lightly licking his lips with a small head shake before looking away.
âWelcome to the family Mila.â
Another weekend at the Morales household and you found yourself in the kitchen.
Tonight was movie night for the three of you, which meant endless snacks and drinks were going to be shoved down your throat until you were stuffed to the brim. Was it healthy? Absolutely not. But does it taste good? 100%
But there was a predicament. Your âassignedâ cup was on the highest shelf, and happened to be right out of your reach. You wouldâve climbed on the counter to get it, but last time you tried to Jeff damn near killed you for âputting your nasty feet on his fresh cooking countersâ, so that was off the table.
Usually Miles would be the one to get your cup because of the location. But when you called out for him to come in and help there was no response.
That was until Milo walked in, a slight hunch in shoulders as he walked lazily into the room. He smacked his lips, âHeâs setting up the movie, whatchu want?â His tone, though somewhat annoyed, was oddly soft.
With a quick roll of the eyes you pointed to the cup in question. âCan you grab that fâme?â
He looked at you blankly for a second before nodding. âYou know you donât always gotta use that cup right?â He said amused, seeing the other cup selections that you could reach.
âYea but thatâs my cup.â You said matter of factly, facing your back to the counter so you could lean against it. He shrugged, walking closer towards you. âWhatever helps you sleep at night ma.â
He reached over you grabbing the cup.
His cologne was strong in your nostrils, such a gentle yet masculine scent wafted through your senses. It was intoxicating, yet not enough to be overwhelming.
You noticed the slight freckles that rested through Miloâs neck ran up his jaw. He had a very small amount of soft beard hair he had started to grow, barely visible had you not been looking so hard.
âStarings rude ma.â Milo said as held the cup, breaking you out of your trance.
You looked into his eyes, âDonât flatter yourself sir.â.
Milo was oddly close, but it didnât feel uncomfortable by any means.
If anything it felt natural, as if this is how close he should be at all times. âYou seem to be flattering me ânough for the both of us.â He teased, his voice stringing deeper and huskier than usual.
You didnât miss the small glance he held at your lips, his eyes lingering for a second before meeting your gaze again.
The air became thicker. It didnât feel nauseating or suffocating though. It felt like a blanket had been placed over your body, effectively making you feel hot inside.
It was a feeling you had only ever felt at the thought of Miles.
Milo licked his lips as his eyes trailed up and down your features. There was an unrecognizable look in his eye. And even though unfamiliar, the way he was gazing at you sent a rupture of butterflies through your stomach all the way to your heart.
âGuys I got the movie on.â Miles walked into the kitchen, his attention placed on the phone in his hand.
Milo swiftly placed the cup on the counter next to you and moved back to the opposite counter. âYou guys ready?â Milo asked as he looked up, a large smile playing at his face.
Milo looked at you once more before answering âyea.â
The Morales household was quieter than usual. Jeff and Rio had left for the night on a âone night parent onlyâ vacation, trusting you and the twins to be civil for their night out.
The soft moonlight shined through the window of Miles' room, caressing his floor.
As you were laying in his bed, he was sprawled out on top of you holding you close; something that would happen often at your sleepovers.
Miles had fallen asleep on you over thirty minutes ago; leaving you staring at the ceiling as he cuddled you.
Saying you were bored was an understatement. But you knew he often didnât get to sleep well, so waking him wasnât an option.
Letting your state of uninterest in sleep win, you attempted to wiggle his limbs off of you to make leeway to leave.
He mumbled gently under his breath, telling you to âstay stillâ. You stopped for a second, contemplating listening to his drowsy pleas.
Had you not been bright eyes and bushy tailed you most likely wouldâve, but laying in a dark room with nothing to do but stay still absentmindedly was beyond even your infatuation for the boy. Sighing out a quick apology and a promise to return soon, you snuck out of his grasp.
Making a split second decision, you decided on heading to the kitchen for a snack.
The home was calm, an unoften serene that only happened in the dead night. It was just you and the JBL that stayed in the kitchen together.
Connecting your phone to the speaker, you turned on your soft Spanish playlist. You decided to take the initiative to clean the dishes that you three had piled up over the night. Even though you created the least amount of the mess.
âŠ
The late night snack you had originally planned on getting had been tossed out the window.
The Music aided dearly in making the cleaning process quicker, swaying your hips to the soft sounds of guitar and humming along to whomever was singing as the songs ran on. Even if you could only pick out bits and pieces of the words they spoke as the dishes clinking was sometimes louder than the music, you mumbled what you could make out.
You were truly at peace.
You were unaware that Milo was still awake in his room playing on his console.
Hearing the soft Melodieâs coming from the kitchen, he hopped off the game to see what was happening. After sneakily making his way to the kitchen, he saw your dancing figure cleaning.
Leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, he watched you attentively; eyes following every movement you made.
Milo knew the way he felt in his chest was beyond infatuation for you at this point. He truly wasnât sure to be relieved at the fact that you were unaware of his feelings, or want to crumple up into a ball. But as long asn you still liked his brother, it was for the best you didnât know.
As the song came to an end the humming from your lips continued. Finishing up washing the dishes and setting them aside, Milo crept up behind you.
Placing his hands lightly on your hips, you jolted, startled by the presence behind you. You quickly turned around breaking the grasp he had on your hips, looking to see who had broken your serene. Of course.
Lightly punching his chest, you glared at him annoyed, âwhat the hell Milo! I damn near had a heart attack.â, you carefully whisper-shouted, in hopes to not wake Miles.
You turned back around to rinse out the sink, expecting him to move away from you, but he stayed behind you.
The soft sound of Natalia Lafourcade's voice filled the room, gentle music of âSoledad y el Marâ playing over the speaker.
Still feeling Miloâs presence behind you, you tilted your head over your shoulder.
âDo you need somethin-â
âDance with me.â
He cut you off, his hands gently making their way back to your waist. You stared at him bemused, âI-what? No. Iâm cleaning-â âdance with me.â He reiterated, âOne song, this song and Iâll leave you alone.â You narrowed your eyes at him. You sighed, wiping your hands with the towel next to the sink. âYouâll leave me alone?â He nodded lightly, âFor now. Damn just baila conmigo mujer.â Rolling your eyes, you nodded.
A lazy grin made its way to his face as he grabbed your hand gently turning you around, pulling you into his chest.
âŠ
Oddly enough, you two quickly fell in sync. It was almost- nice.
He placed his hands around your waist again as you hummed lightly to rythm, swaying your hips against his.
He nestled his head into your shoulder.
A soft sigh escaped both your lips at the same time. You were surprised as he hummed with you to the cadence of her voice, âYou know this song?â You whispered lightly, but loud enough that he could understand you. âMi mamĂĄ plays music like this all the time when she cooks. Itâs usually Ismael Rivera, but she has a few different people.â His mumble fell gently into the cusp of your neck. You hummed, nodding understandingly; recalling all the times you would hear Rio play her music as she cooked when you would hang out with Miles.
What he failed to tell you was that his dad would do just as he did when he saw his mother humming to the soft sounds of Spanish serenades in the kitchen. Jeff would whisk her away and dance with her; sweet affirmations of his love falling into her neck. Milo would catch them all the time when he and Miles were in their rooms, usually coming out for a moment to get water but instead ending up watching them silently from the hallway.
As the song neared its end he held you close, the rhythm you two had built slowly turning into a soft rock.
The feeling was oddly domestic, too domestic. It made you wonder- more of a realization than piqued curiosity- if you wouldnât mind doing this again.
If you wouldnât mind seeing Miloâs face when you went to bed or woke up in the morning.
If-, that you wouldnât mind having a future with Milo.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, Miles woke up noticing the warmth from your embrace was gone indicating you werenât in his room anymore.
He decided to get up, thinking you were in the kitchen getting a snack. As he walked out his room quietly, he heard the sound of two voices, your and his twin.
He stood silently in the hallway watching the sight in the kitchen. His face contorted from tired to a very displeased look, jealousy enveloping his body as he watched what was happening.
You would only do things like this with him, only share such loving embraces with him, not his counterpart.
When did you two become so close?
As his eyebrows furrowed, he went back to his room; choosing against ruining happiness that radiated from the two of you,
choosing to return to his bed cold and alone.
BONUS:
As the song ended, Laura Fygis rendition of âsabor a miâ replaced the tune. Milo gently let go of you with a small sigh, turning to leave you alone after one song as promised.
With a quick bite of your lip and a momentâs contemplation, you gently grabbed his bicep stopping him from leaving.
He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, âyou and I both know itâs criminal to not dance to this song.â You raised a brow, avoidantly asking him to dance with you again.
A smirk reached his lips, his eyes glistening, âJust say you canât get enough aâme ma.â His hands swiftly lead right back to waist, smoothly joining your footing in sync once more.
