So This Kinda Goes With My Last Request But When Reader Has Top Surgery. How Would Jackie React When

Surviving The Wilderness

Pairings: yellowjackets x reader

Summary: With how much effort you had put in trying to look after the group as the seasons start to change, you get dubbed the unofficial mom of the team. Find request here.

Winter was on the horizon. Temperatures were starting to drop even further during the night and daylight hours were shortening with each day that had passed. With no foreseeable chance of rescue happening any time soon, the group had to prepare for the oncoming harshness of the next season. 

There was only so much you could do with having very little to begin with but you were trying your best, as was everyone else. At first it was just the menial tasks that you had double downed on, the chores everyone had already been doing in order to get by.

The pile of firewood stood tall and proud in the attic of the cabin. You had buddied yourself up with Tai to collect as much dry wood as the two of you could. There wasn’t a shortage of wood out in the wilderness but it would mean spending less time out in the cold for necessities when it came to it.

You had also started out marking out all of the spots for potential food. Colder temperatures didn’t immediately mean there’d be nothing available to eat, or at least you hoped, but you figured knowing where food could grow would be important for when it became a scarcity. You weren't sure what you were going to do if the snow rolled in early but you didn’t like thinking about that. 

You had paired yourself up with Misty for your impromptu foraging trip. The girl knew an uncanny amount of facts about mushrooms and berry bushes, the whole sorts. While you were out there, you used a copy of one of Natalies maps she had made while out hunting to mark off all the potential spots for food. The two of you also took the chance to gather what you could to add to the rations. Food was the main concern for everyone at the moment. 

Misty had talked your ear off the entire day. She was probably excited that someone had actually sought out her company. It was rather endearing when she got excited by the sight of a specific mushroom and how serious she would suddenly turn when warning you not to touch a specific plant you’d stumble across. 

While you had entertained her rambles and managed to learn a thing or two about how to spot a poison berry from a safe one, you didn’t know how to keep up with all her energy. You were kind of thankful for the quietness of the cabin that night.

Preparations for winter weren’t the only thing on your mind. You liked keeping up the morale of the team, being a shoulder to lean on for anyone who needed it, or a person to confide in. It brought a smile to your own face when you managed to make one of your friends smile. It was what you were there for. 

Jackie had pulled you aside from the campfire you were all perched around outside, telling you she needed to talk to you about something important. You were in the middle of learning how to whittle with a few of the other girls but a small break wouldn’t hurt anyone, you’d catch back up when you got back. 

“You’ve really stepped up out here.” Jackie was proud of the efforts you had put in, you were holding up surprisingly well. “Thank you for being the leader I couldn’t be.”

Jackie had especially seemed to be struggling with the adjustment of being stranded out in the wilderness. You couldn’t see it at first, not when she was the most hopeful about getting rescued, doing the most she could to keep her team up and going but the longer she stayed out here, the more that sparked dampened. 

As much as her comment made you proud of your own achievements, it also struck a chord within you. 

“Hey, it’s not easy out here but you’re trying your best and that's what matters, right?” You offered her a reassuring smile. You couldn’t blame her for not adjusting so quickly. The chain of jarring events you had all been through over the past few weeks wasn’t easy to get over.

“It feels like I'm losing my mind out here.” Jackie tried to crack a smile but you could tell it was forced. 

“You’re not the only one going a little crazy out here, you don’t have to cope through this alone.” You reached out to her and enveloped her in a comforting embrace that she immediately leaned into. You hoped she’d remember that. She never had to do anything alone. You were still a team.

The two of you stayed like that for an extended moment. You felt like she needed this so you weren’t going to pull back until she did.

“You’re a really great friend.” Jackie mumbled into your shoulder.

“I’ve got your back, alright? We’ll get through it. All of us will.” Even if it wasn’t easy.

The stillness of the cabin after sundown was always something that unnerved you for some reason. You didn’t like prolonged moments of silence but sometimes everyone was too exhausted after a long day and they didn’t have the energy to keep themselves entertained. 

The first time you had brought up the idea of telling each other stories at night, it wasn’t so well received but you were determined to provide some sort of entertainment.

“Bedtime stories? Seriously? What are you, my mom?” Taissa  mocked.

“Your mom still reads you bedtime stories?” Van jestered.

“Shut up.” Taissa rolled her eyes at Van's joke. That wasn’t what she meant.

“It doesn’t have to be some fairytale woe it can be about anything. Have some fun making up your own world or something.” You tried reasoning with them, seeing the potential in the fun that could come from such a thing. You didn’t see the harm in indulging in your creative sides again, even for something a little silly and childish. It’d let you be teenagers again and not just survivors.

“I think I’ve got something.” The look on Van’s face had Taissa groaning and that could only mean one thing. Whatever the girl had in mind was going to be the most ridiculous and therefore amusing story you would ever hear. 

Since then, storytelling with Van every other night or so practically became a nighttime routine. Sometimes it was the smaller things that counted, the silly things that kept everyone looking forward. Everyone would huddle around the fireplace wrapped up in their blankets while you and Van sat on your chairs telling stories, some a little spooky the others pure comedy gold.

The days were only becoming shorter as each one had passed. The looming threat of winter hanging over you all but you were keen on making it your job to make sure each and every one of your teammates would make it through the next season. You’d be there for them every step of the way, no matter what they needed.

Supplying everyone with proper winter attire was next up on your agenda. You had become everyone's self appointed tailor so to speak. There was a spare suitcase in the makeshift pantry room of the cabin where everyone had spared a few things for anyone to take for grabs. You picked off a few stray buttons from the case and a small selection of spare material from clothing, making sure to leave plenty left for anyone else too.

Everyone had their own clothes they could layer themselves up in when it came to that so luckily you didn’t have to worry too much about that. If you had to, you’d remind anyone who was going outside for a prolonged period to remember to take a headscarf with them. 

You had done your best sewing a couple of pairs of gloves, especially for Natalie and Travis who were going to be out in the cold the most as they were the appointed hunters of the group. With what you had, you managed to make a few pairs and one of them was even an adjustable size by threading the button that held the pieces together through a different hole of the three you had poked through. That way everyone would have something that fit them.

You hoped the pair you made for Travis was the right size, you couldn’t exactly use your own measurements from your hands for his gloves. “Try these on for me?” He was surprised when you had approached him, offering up the items of clothing to him.

“What are these for?” Despite his question, he took the gloves from your hand.

“For when you go hunting with Nat.” You explained like it was obvious. “You two are outside the most out of all of us so I figured I should make sure you at least stay warm out there.”

They probably had one of the most important jobs, keeping everyone fed. You couldn't afford them falling ill or anything like that. You noticed that they had already been waking up earlier to get out in the early morning and while you wanted to applaud their efforts in feeding the group, it did worry you a little that they were sacrificing so much rest and walking about in the dark so you figured you'd look after them the only way you knew how.

“Yeah, I'll be using these. Thanks.” Luckily the gloves fit him pretty well as he wiggled his fingers around to test the amount of movement he had in them.

“Stay safe out there.” You nodded curtly with a proud smile on your face, happy that the gift turned out well.

It was when Natalie and Travis kept coming back from their hunting trips empty handed more and more often that you really kicked into gear. Things started to feel a little more real to you then, like there really was something to worry about or fuss over. Being cold and bored was one thing but starving out here was another. You had to find a way to keep everyone well nourished.

In order to do that, tea had become the next thing you tried to master. Everyone liked tea, right? It may not have been the most filling thing but with the right ingredients it would have a good amount of the necessary nutrients to keep you going. Plus it didn't take too many resources to make which made it accessible to drink daily.

This was the third evening you had gone around the group offering up your cups of tea. The one you had made this time was tinted with mixed berries seeing as Misty had gone to you with what was left over. She didn’t want them to go to waste and they couldn’t be stored away for much longer or else they’d go off so she figured you could make use of them.

“Didn’t take you for such a tea connoisseur.” Shauna teased, then getting nudged in the side by Jackie who mumbled something about how you were just being nice. 

Making tea was something new to you and not every pot came out perfect but oddly enough you enjoyed making a new batch every time.

“Here, Nat, you’re shivering.” You offered up a fresh cup of hot berry tea to her, knowing it could help warm her up. 

“It’s fine, really, I’m good.” She held up her hand in a gentle refusal, brushing your offer off but that only made you catch sight of her pink fingertips. She had been out all day with the shotgun, maybe it was already getting colder than you thought.

Despite her words, you pushed the cup into her open hand and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the warmth it brought to her cold hand. Maybe your offer wasn’t such a bad one after all. You smiled triumphantly when she took the mug from you and started sipping away at the drink.

“Wait there a moment.” There wasn’t much reason for Nat to be going anywhere now that she had the chance to relax but you wanted to make sure she stayed put. Seconds later you came back with one of the blankets and you draped it over her shoulders for her, making sure it stayed in place over her body to preserve as much heat as possible.

“You’re such a mom, y’know that?” Natalie raised an eyebrow at your coddling and your cheeks tinted pink when her comment earned a few chuckles from around the group. That wasn’t the first time you had been compared to a mom by one of the girls, you hoped you weren’t doing too much. 

Ironically, it was one of the moments Nat had felt most cared for, she hardly had a problem with your naturing ways. She didn’t get that sort of treatment back home. 

“Well I’m not letting you freeze to death on me.” You justified your actions sheepishly but the moment Nat sent you a gentle smile, you relaxed. She didn’t actually seem to mind the fact you were fussing over her.

Another day brought another cold night. You had made sure the fireplace was lit up enough to last for as long as it could throughout the night. “Does everyone have enough blankets?” You asked the group before you let yourself settle down in your own makeshift bed. It was better to check before you tucked yourself in.

“Yes mom.” Shauna goaded, earning a huff from you, and a few snickers sounded out throughout the room. The newly appointed nickname was coming up more and more recently.

“Hey! You’ll be thanking me when I save your asses from your reckless selves.” You loved your team, you really did, but some of them really lacked the self preservation that they needed out here and someone needed to take care of them.

Shauna waved off your comment and seeing as no one had complained about being too cold, you let yourself settle down in your own bundle of blankets that was placed next to Lotties. 

“You’re doing a good job at looking after all of them.” Lottie appraised you, having taken note of your continuous efforts. 

“I want to make sure everyone else makes it through this.” You could only hope your actions would pay off. 

“You’re the best mom I could ask for.” Lottie’s smile wasn’t one of mockery, it was of appreciation and you finally found yourself laughing along with the joke. Maybe being the appointed caretaker wasn’t so bad.

natalie scatorccio pushing down her love for women her entire life, until the plane crashes.

she's always had a crush on you, even if she'd never admit it. she always felt like she couldn't act on it because people would hate her even more, but she stops giving a fuck after a few months in the wilderness.

you'd be the one to kiss her first. maybe while swimming in the lake in the first season, y'know? swimming together and she just looks so pretty with her hair wet and shit. you just can't resist the urge to kiss her, and who could ever resist that?

so you're in the shallower parts of the lake, calling her to come closer to you. nat barely has time to ask "what?" before you're cupping her cheeks and kissing her.

i think it's safe to say that she never pushed her love for you back down after that

Little Demon

Batfam Yan! × Neglected Nezuko! Reader

Note:English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

You were normal

You weren't the monster you've become, before everything you were just an ordinary high school student

Everything had happened so fast that you didn't even have time to process it

A few hours ago everything was normal

You woke up as usual adding yourself to go to class, you greeted alfred while you were having breakfast

Breakfast felt as lonely as always your family was never present not even in things as common as having breakfast together as a family

No one ever had time for you, everyone was so busy with their responsibilities and you understood it, you always understood

They were vigilant and you knew they had a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders but sometimes you would like them to look at you or ask you how your day was

If someone in the family turned to look at you or talk to you it was a miracle, the only person you had by your side was alfred

He was a father figure more than your real father could be

Bruce, as you called him because father was too big a name for someone like him, maybe he wasn't even worthy of being called father

You saw his relationship with the rest of your siblings and how he treated them with so much respect and affection

At some point you felt jealous, why was he so good to them? Why couldn't you feel that affection

Why?

Why!?

Nobody took care of you or protected you, since you were little you understood that if you didn't protect yourself nobody would

Everyone had talents and they were amazing

You were just (name), the shadow of the family because the only thing that was important was having the last name Wayne, but then you were nobody

You were never anybody

You stopped thinking so much and picked up your bag and walked out the door of the mansion giving Alfred a last goodbye

_

Classes went by faster than you would like, school was a safe place for you, there you could be yourself with your friends

To your friends you weren't (name) Wayne, the daughter of a billionaire playboy, you were just a (name) L/N a girl full of energy and eager to help others

You lazily got up from your seat grabbing your bag heading to the classroom door

There was Aoi waiting for you as usual, you were grateful to have such a good friend like her

"You look more tired than usual, is something wrong (name)?"

The black-haired girl asks worriedly, walking with you to the exit. You just nodded, giving her a fake smile.

"Yeah, don't worry, I just didn't sleep well today."

That's a lie. You had slept more than well, but since this morning you had felt that something was wrong, as if something bad was about to happen.

You couldn't shake that feeling off after hours. You decided to ignore it, but that feeling still remained.

Aoi just nodded, unsure of your answer. She had been your friend for years and she knew you too well to know when something was bothering you.

"Hey, today me and shinobu are going to a new cafe that opened. Do you want to go?"

You stayed quiet for a few seconds thinking about the proposal, you liked going out with your friends but this time you felt like you shouldn't go

"I'm sorry aoi but... I'm really busy today I have homework to do"

You politely apologized to her

Aoi raised an eyebrow, there was something she didn't like, she knew something was happening to you but she wasn't going to force you to tell her, she didn't want it to seem like she was someone insistent

She simply gave you a nod and then looked ahead, this was where your paths separated as you lived on totally opposite streets

She gave you a big hug as a farewell and then separated from you with a smile on her face

"See you tomorrow (name), take care!"

She said as she shook her hand and her presence disappeared more and more as she walked away

You let out a tired sigh before turning on your heels and taking the path home

You walked with your head down, your thoughts consumed your head that you didn't even notice the imminent danger that was approaching you

You didn't understand why your family seemed to hate you, you were always obedient, good and polite

You were the best in your class and you had great intelligence but you were still invisible to all of them

Sometimes you just wanted to disappear, being someone else didn't matter you just wanted to leave

But you knew that until you turned 18 it would be impossible to get out of that house

You were so distracted in your thoughts that you didn't even have time to react before something too strong pushed you into a dirty alley

You tried to get up and defend yourself but that strange man grabbed you by the neck cutting off your breathing and not being able to get up

As your vision blurred you could see his red eyes and a cynical smile forming on his lips

The last thing you felt was something embedded in your neck causing you to lose consciousness

Everything was black, you couldn't move or feel anything

So you died?

Is this how it all ended? Dying in a dirty alley full of trash and rats?

Maybe this is what you deserved, you were never anything important just trash

And trash should stay with trash, right?

Alfred ran at full speed through the mansion towards Bruce's office, he couldn't believe that this had happened

He slammed open the door to Bruce's office causing Bruce to stop concentrating on the paperwork to look at his butler

It was too strange for Alfred to enter without knocking, and he was also struck by Alfred's worried and disheveled attitude

Only something too important or serious would have to happen to break Alfred's impeccable personality

"Master Bruce...Miss (name)..."

The old man struggled to find air in his lungs, having run all over the mansion had left him exhausted

"What's wrong with her? Don't tell me she got into trouble-"

Alfred interrupted Bruce in the middle of his sentence to speak again

"No...she...she's dead"

Those words hit Bruce hard

Dead?

Your death couldn't be true, it had to be some kind of joke

"What?"

It was the only thing he could say in shock, he knew that Alfred would never lie to him, much less about a subject as serious as death

But his brain simply couldn't process it

_

The entire batfam was at the police station, the news of your death shook the entire family in a bad way

Now they were here to identify your body, they found it in an alley according to the police record a woman who was passing by found your body covered in blood that was supposed to have been yours

According to the police it was a very crude and bloody crime scene

They couldn't believe that someone would be capable of doing that to a being as innocent as you

The simple fact that someone had done all those things to you made everyone's blood boil with rage

Richard felt terrible, remembering all the times you asked him to spend time together and he simply made the excuse that he was busy or that he didn't have time

He was the worst brother, he was supposed to be the oldest one who should have protected you but all he did was push you away and cause your premature death

Jason could barely handle all the emotions he felt at that moment, he felt rage, sadness and regret

He still remembered the times he had insulted you and told you not to interfere in his life

No matter what he had to do, he was going to avenge his little sister and he was going to make the person who had done that to you suffer

In Tim's head he tried to find some possible suspect for your death, maybe the joker had already killed Jason once, it was just a matter of time before he did it again

He could still remember the times he had ignored you, that moment when you made cupcakes was still in his mind and you had the brightest smile of all

You had prepared them especially for your family but all you received was their rejection telling you that they were busy

Remember the rude way in which I refused your food and asked you to leave, right now, anything to be able to be with you and try your desserts

Damian was burning with fury, who was the bastard who dared to kill his sister!?

He, unlike the rest, didn't want to accept his guilt. He firmly believed that the times he had hit you, humiliated you, and insulted you were for your own good.

You should know well that you were too weak for this world, that he was your protector.

Cass could barely process everything. She had lost another important person to her again, and this time it was her fault again.

She leaned against a corner and let her thoughts consume her. She felt the worst. Maybe if she had paid attention to you, you would be alive now.

Barbara felt the same way as Richard. She still remembered the times you begged for her attention, wanting to spend time with her, but she only pushed you away more and more each day.

Steph could only stare at the floor. It was her fault for ignoring you. She thought that at some point you would adapt to the mansion, but it never happened. All she did was make you feel more like a burden and a nuisance.

But the one who felt the worst was Bruce. He was supposed to be your father, he was supposed to be the first to protect you. But he didn't. All he did was ignore you

He was the worst father ever, now because of him you were dead

They took him to a room to identify your body and left him there alone for a few minutes

Right there he collapsed, his serious and unwavering facade broke

His daughter, his baby is now dead because of him, he would do anything to revive you, he would even use the Lazarus pit even knowing the consequences that caused

But suddenly he felt like something lunged at him

And there was you

Alive

You were alive in some way, but he saw that it wasn't you...

Your eyes had that wild look, your teeth were sharp and long nails that you had never had before

He grabbed a metal pipe he found on the floor and tried to fight you by putting it in your mouth so that you wouldn't bite him or disfigure his face with your claws or teeth

Your strength was superhuman, as if you were no longer the (name) that he knew

Now you had become something wilder

But he felt small tears falling on his face, he was crying

It seemed as if a part of you was trying to control your instincts, he noticed your distressed and scared look

Suddenly Richard entered the room with Jason

They had heard a loud noise coming from the room

The men's faces were surprised when they saw you alive

Or rather, you didn't look human and your skin looked paler

Also, your hair had changed, the tips that were completely black before were now orange

The two quickly came out of their trance and helped Bruce get you off of them, you were still struggling and trying to get out of their grip

Then Damian and Tim appeared through the door when they heard all the commotion

Before either of them could speak, Richard interrupted them

"There's no time for explanations, distract the police now!"

He said trying to keep you from getting out of the grip, Tim and Damian just nodded confused as they went with the others to distract the guards

Meanwhile Jason decided that the best idea was to knock you out so he did, but he earned a scolding from Bruce for hitting you so hard

"Stop complaining so much and be thankful we didn't let her kill you"

He said dryly, he saw how you fell surrendered to his arms, for now they should find a way to get you out of here without anyone noticing

_

The days passed quickly in the mansion, they had you with a kind of muzzle on your mouth to prevent any incident

Although after having "revived" you were only aggressive once, to tell the truth this version of you was much calmer and less energetic than the previous one

After Bruce asked Constantine for help he told him that most likely you had been turned into a demon and that if they wanted you to be human again the person that turned you into a demon was supposed to turn you back into a human

For days the batfam spent their time investigating and trying to find information about the person who did that to you but they found almost nothing

But almost nothing was that bad, it seemed you rejected human flesh and blood and you recovered energy by sleeping, you didn't need to eat or drink water just sleep

Most of the day (not to say all day) you spent somewhere in the mansion sleeping

Everyone fought over who would cuddle with you during your morning nap, they agreed on a deal that every day of the week it would be a family member's turn to sleep with you and take care of you

And after everything worked, most of your memories disappeared so they didn't have to worry about you remembering what horrible siblings they were

They also found out that you can't be in the sun unless you want to disintegrate and die

Tim thought it was a good idea to open the windows so you could see the sun after so long

Tim's expression The horror on his face was great when he saw how your skin began to burn and how you screamed in pain

He quickly closed the windows and approached you to see your condition

Luckily your regenerative abilities were very helpful, but Tim still didn't escape Bruce's scolding and you think Damian almost killed Tim that day

You could say that the days in the mansion were good, of course sometimes you would like to go out and see other places but you knew it would be impossible

The batfam preferred to die rather than let you wander alone through the streets of Gotham again, in their eyes you were still that weak little girl even knowing that you could easily kill them all

For now you should get used to this life until they find a cure

But you shouldn't worry, when you are cured they will never let you go again

Never

I finished this quicker than I thought

I hope you like it because I probably won't upload anything for 3 or 4 days

byeee

sunset beach walks with jackie...

BAH! her abs here.....

little drives to the beach with her ☹️ packing lunch and drinks and blankets..... jackie making you guys a sandwich while you run around the house looking for the sunscreen because she burns easily.. and you know she's too overprotective and just lathers that sunscreen on you in the car before walking out....

jackie hanging her head out of the window so she can feel the wind hit her face.. you almost crash into a car while admiring her :/ stopping by some gas station for a little snack on the way and i feel like she's suck a trinket girl.. she gets you guys these hats (ur out of the city atp) and these little fidget toys for back home 😞 tbh. she's not above buying shovels and sand buckets...

getting there later than expected but still having fun ^^. just something about the simple act of laying ur blankets down next to each other, jackie's little sack of food in the middle.... watching her get undressed and smiling at her as she holds her hand out and tells you to come in the water with her. i need.

jackie splashing you and pouting when you splash even harder. jackie who yelps and jumps into your arms when she feels seaweed touch her feet 😭

staying there late, just eating ur food and watching the sun set together as you talk about whatever. ur practically the only ones still there and you feel safe enough to leave ur things on the sand and ask her to walk with you. silent walks :( jackie clinging to your arm and just enjoying the feeling of being with you. she speaks up to ask if you liked how today turned out, hoping that you say yes :( she's so giddy when you do say yes, smiling bashfully when you say that she made it so good.

idc how cheesy and sappy this is, thinking about play fighting with her and then racing back to your towels, jackie pouting angrily when you win (you didn't even say that, you called it a tie to make her feel better) and pushing you on your ass so she can sit on your lap, holding your arms down and telling you to admit that she won. anyways, thinking about it turning into a soft makeout session, jackie resting her head on your chest and watching the sunset after you both get tired.

It’s been so long since I’ve sent an ask in, i fear the kids will think we’re in a divorce. So today I came to offer up a situation I believe in 1000%.

Jackie Taylor in college not knowing how to flirt with women, so whenever she meets you for the first time she doesn’t know how to talk to you. She ends up buying those stupid men’s pickup artist CDs, the like late 2000s type. She believes it completely and thinks that this is how you get girls and buys like the whole box set. It comes with douche clothes, a small notebook of pickup lines and a huge textbook along with like 10 CDs. Literally any normal person would know these lines and tactics would absolutely not work, but she’s convinced herself. So she tries approaching you in a bar and when you don’t follow the script that the pickup artist said you’d respond with, she gets nervous. She pulls out and skims through the pages of a huge book that in VERY bold letters on the front reads, ‘HOW TO GET WOMEN’

She eventually gives up on the textbook after she sees the weird look you gave her upon seeing it. Just ends up taking a bar napkin and writing “Do you like me?” With 2 options below that read “Yes” and “YES”. She’s looking at you like she’s so proud of herself that you cant help but circle the option in all caps. (She thinks that means you’re dating, immediately)

excellent ask as always bro. feels like we haven't spoken in soooo long. waiting by the window for my husband to come home from war. checking the post office every day for one mere letter from the front lines 😔

the way that little book is the only thing jackie's taking notes on before she got to college. she bombed her first exam and is like "omg how do you study in college???" and then looked at her 10 pages of notes from "chicks 101" and a lightbulb lit up

jackie has the best pickup lines written down and her phone and keeps checking the notes app as shes walking towards you (walks into a pole). forgets them immediately the second she starts talking to you (you talked first and she forgot what she crammed) but refuses to admit it and tries it anyways. completely flips the line around. like "you're the only ten i see, are you from tennessee?" and immediately winces.

screams into her pillow atleast once a week. did not realize that flirting with girls would be so fucking hard. no one tells you this thing. she almost misses when she thought she was straight. the shit was soooo easy. she's so good at flirting with boys that she's still pulling them without even trying.

also jackie for fucking sure memorizes how she wants conversations to go in general when she's nervous about something i feel and the second someone goes off script she's like "hold on now". has to schedule a doctors appointment for the first time and they ask her a question she didn't have written down and she hangs up (they needed her middle name. she makes shauna call them from rhode island lmaoo.).

peering over jackie's shoulder and she's got 20 tabs open all along the lines of "how to kiss", "how to tell her i like her", "how to flirt with women when you look straight", "how to be her friend in a gay way", "lesbian. girl pretty. help"

jackie does NOT believe in situationships. what do you mean you're not in love with her??? you went on three dates?? she secretly sprayed her perfume on your pillow when you were in the bathroom and everything. yahoo answers swore it would make you fall in love with her

side note jackie immediately hard launches you after one date. queen. writing mrs jackie taylor in all her notebooks for sure. calling shauna up like "i found the one" and shaunas like "...where is she from?". "unimportant. anyways so on our date..."

you see a no faintly written under a shit ton of eraser marks before she changed her mind and wrote another yes. (was nervous about giving you the option lmaooo)

Continuation of the biting baby, y/n as a toddler somehow developed the habit of headbutting people in the gut but not bruce. He still gets bit but aye, he's not alone anymore lmao

(Baby has to be put in air jail almost everyday buy the moment they're out they headbutt the person who placed them in air jail as hard as possible)

(Also just in case people doesn't know what air jail is,u just hold the baby/animal In the air with ur hand)

A pattern is forming. I think you all want Mouse to be a violent baby.

Including me, so —

The Littlest Wayne: Air Jail

"AHH! SHI-AHhhghh sugarhoneyicetea..."

Bruce lifts his eyes from his newspaper and looks at the couch, waiting for the inevitable. Like clockwork a pair of hands shoot into the air, with you as prisoner, and you start complaining and windmilling your limbs. The hands holding you are encased in leather; Jason must have been the victim then.

"Mousey, I'm workin' with two broken ribs and a concussion," the man complains, jostling you for emphasis. You squeal, giggling. "You cannot keep running into me with that thick little noggin at full speed. I felt a third rib crack upon impact. You're killing me. You're killing your brother. I'm gonna die again."

"Wanna!" You insist, back to windmilling. "Down! Jay-Jay, down!"

"No down. You get Air Jail 'till you say sorry and promise not to headbutt me again."

"I sowwy..." You whine, jutting your bottom lip out for emphasis. "Down, p'ease."

"Jesus Christ, the puppy dog eyes are lethal. I — ugh. You gotta say you won't headbutt me anymore. No more headbutt, okay?"

Your eyes start to water. Bruce watches you sink back down, vanishing behind the back of the couch, and snorts into his paper. He lets out a full laugh when Jason cries out a minute later. You've struck again.

"WE HAD A DEAL. Get over here, you're going back to Air Jail."

You shriek with delight, toddling away as fast as your chubby legs will allow. Jason, as injured as he is, actually can't catch up to you before you spot your dad and make the motion for Uppies.

"Daddy!" You cry. Bruce sets the paper aside and scoops you up.

"Are you being naughty?" He asks. You grin and hide your face in his shoulder. "Uh oh. Maybe I'll let Jay put you back in Air Jail — OW?"

He winces and your peals of laughter ring right next to his head. You open your mouth to bite him again, but he's the one to lift you into the air this time. "Daddy! Down!"

"I'm calling the police," Bruce deadpans, dropping into the Batman Voice. "Your rampant string of crime has gone unchecked for too long. Victims are piling up left and right. You've headbutt all your brothers this week, and Uncle Hal, and Titus. How Grandpa is escaping your tyranny is a mystery, but it's time to turn you over to the law."

"No powice, daddy!"

"Yes powice, child."

Bruce stands up and carries you into the day room, lowering you down into an extra tall play pen.

"Time out for five minutes."

You pout and cross your tiny arms, glaring at the ground.

"Don't wike, daddy. Want out."

"Yeah, well Daddy doesn't like getting bitten like a cookie, and your brothers don't like taking your skull to their bodies at high speeds. We want our skin free from bruises and teeth marks."

"Ha-ha," Jason teases from the doorway, pointing at you. "Get got, criminal!"

Your pouting intensifies. You reach out to Jason and make small whining noises.

"Want out. Want Jay-Jay, p'ease! Jay-Jay!"

The smug little smirk fades from Jason quick, turning into something fond and pitying.

"....I mean...c'mon, B, they're three. Five whole minutes?"

Bruce rolls his eyes. "This is why we haven't been able to curb this behavior yet. You can't fall for big eyes and a please every time —"

You hitch a little sob, and like a wet paper bag, Bruce folds.

"Maybe I'm being a tad harsh. They're three years old..."

ALWAYS, FOREVER :: JACKIE TAYLOR

⏝ི ✿ 𝓢𝗬𝗡. a tender chronicle of two souls intertwined through secret languages and stolen kisses, as they shatter beneath society's frost only to thaw into truth under courage's warm light.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[cw.] — a narrative shaped by Spring Into Summer by lizzy mcalpine; an au where the crash never occurred. jackie, constrained by compulsory heteronormativity, navigates the complexities of longing and self-discovery in 1996’s quiet ache.

jackie taylor was born in december, a winter child with snowflakes in her hair and frost on her eyelashes. you could see it in her eyes—hazelnut blonde, wide and unblinking, framed with lashes so thick they cast shadows on her cheeks—the innate understanding that beauty was both weapon and armor. she resembled a wide-eyed doll come to life, porcelain-perfect and untouchable, a girl who learned early how to smile just right, how to laugh at jokes that weren't funny, how to hold herself with the straight-backed posture of someone who knew she was being watched.

you were born in april, a spring child with pollen dusting your shoulders and petals unfurling in your lungs. your curls were the color of soil after rain, rich and earthy, framing a face that was all soft planes and curious eyes. you had lips that naturally pouted, as if perpetually on the verge of asking another question. while jackie stood straight, you moved like water finding its way downhill, following currents invisible to others, bending but never breaking.

the first time you met, you were both four years old, playing in a sandbox that was really just a glorified cat litter box behind wiskayok elementary's pre-k building. jackie had a plastic shovel and a determination to build the perfect castle. you had nothing but your hands and an imagination that transformed each grain of sand into universes.

"you're doing it wrong," jackie said, watching you pat formless mounds with your palms.

you looked up, squinting against the late summer sun, and replied, "there's no wrong way to play."

jackie considered this with the serious expression of a child contemplating philosophy for the first time. then she handed you her extra bucket.

"here. now you can make towers."

instead, you filled the bucket with dandelions and placed it atop her meticulous castle like a crown.

that was how it began—the bunny and the doe, an unlikely pair bound by the mysterious gravity that draws children together before they learn to question why they like who they like.

⚘

in the arithmetic of childhood friendships, you and jackie defied every equation. she was all clean lines and planned adventures; you were smudged margins and spontaneous detours. she collected friends like trading cards, carefully arranged and displayed; you collected stories and kept them pressed between the pages of your mind like wildflowers.

jackie's house was a showcase of suburban aspiration—gleaming hardwood floors that her mother polished every sunday, furniture arranged at perfect right angles, family photos in matched frames documenting their collective perfection. the refrigerator door was a museum of accomplishments; jackie's straight-A report cards, certificates of achievement, newspaper clippings of her youth soccer victories.

your house was a labyrinth of books—stacked on stairs, teetering on tables, forming makeshift furniture of their own. your father, an english professor, believed in the sanctity of the written word; your mother, a nurse with the soul of a poet, believed in the healing power of stories. they gave you a childhood scripted by dickens and alcott and austen, letting you run wild through fictional worlds when the real one seemed too constrained.

in jackie's bedroom, everything had its place. trophies on shelves, stuffed animals arranged by size, clothes sorted by color and season. you spent countless afternoons lying on her pink carpet, watching her organize her life into perfect compartments while you read aloud from whatever book had captured your imagination that week.

"don't you ever get bored?" jackie asked once, sitting at her vanity, practicing french braids on her own hair. "reading about other people's lives instead of living your own?"

you looked up from your dog-eared copy of "anne of green gables" and said, "i'm not reading about other people's lives. i'm living a thousand lives in addition to my own."

jackie's expression flickered between confusion and fascination. "i don't think i could ever be like you," she said finally.

"why would you want to be?" you asked. "i already have me. the world needs you to be jackie."

she smiled at that, a rare genuine smile that reached her bunny eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. "you're so weird," she said, but she said it like it was a compliment.

in your room, books formed a fortress around your bed. posters of the cranberries and your favorite french movies covered the walls. your dresser was a archaeological dig of half-finished stories written in notebooks, fragments of poems on loose paper, quotes copied from favorite books onto index cards.

"how do you find anything in here?" jackie would ask, perched primly on the edge of your unmade bed, afraid to disturb the creative chaos.

"i don't find things," you'd reply. "things find me when i need them."

she'd roll her eyes but submit to the ritual of lying beside you on the floor, heads close together, while you pointed out shapes in the textured ceiling and spun stories about cloud kingdoms and star wars, years before either of you had heard of george lucas.

between your houses lay wiskayok itself—a town too small to hide in but too big to truly know everyone. you navigated its streets like parallel rivers, sometimes converging, sometimes diverging, but always flowing toward some shared, unnamed sea.

the summer before sixth grade was the summer of secret languages. twelve years old, teetering on the precipice between childhood and something more complex, you and jackie created ways to communicate that no one else could understand.

it began with a simple code—replacing letters with numbers, leaving notes in each other's lockers, giggling when others couldn't decipher them. then came the elaborate hand signals, each flick of a wrist or tap of fingers conveying entire sentences. by july, you had developed an entire vocabulary of facial expressions, able to conduct silent conversations across crowded rooms.

it was also the summer jackie's body began its betrayal, developing before yours in ways that drew new kinds of attention. boys who had pulled her hair in fourth grade now found reasons to stand close to her, to brush against her in hallways. girls who had been friendly rivals now measured themselves against her, finding themselves wanting.

you watched this metamorphosis with a scientist's curiosity and a poet's heart, cataloging the changes in your best friend like phases of the moon. the way she started wearing her hair down instead of in the practical ponytail of her soccer-playing days. the careful application of lip gloss where once she'd just slathered on cherry chapstick. the measured pace of her walk, slowed from its former eager bounce to something more deliberate, more aware.

"do you think i'm pretty?" she asked one night, both of you lying on the trampoline in her backyard, the august sky a tapestry of stars above you.

"you know you are," you answered, turning to study her profile in the dim glow of distant porch lights.

"no, but do you think i'm pretty?" her voice had an urgency to it, a need that transcended the typical reassurance-seeking of preteen girls.

you propped yourself up on one elbow, looking down at her face—those wide eyes reflecting pinpricks of starlight, that perfect nose, those lips now slightly parted in anticipation of your answer.

"i think you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen," you said, the truth spilling out before you could filter it through the appropriate lens of girlhood friendship.

her face changed then, softened and opened like a night-blooming flower. "show me," she whispered.

and there, beneath the indifferent gaze of distant galaxies, you leaned down and pressed your lips to hers in a kiss that lasted three heartbeats—one for courage, one for discovery, one for a revelation neither of you was ready to name.

when you pulled away, jackie's eyes remained closed for a moment longer, her lashes dark crescents against her cheeks. when she opened them, there was a new language being born between you, one with no words or gestures, one written in quickened pulses and hitched breaths.

"we should practice," she said finally, pragmatic even in this uncharted territory. "for when we kiss boys."

"for boys," you agreed, though even then, you knew no boy's lips would ever fit against yours the way jackie's did.

that became another secret language—kisses stolen in the shadows of her basement during movie nights, in the back corner of the library behind the reference section, in the equipment shed after soccer practice when everyone else had gone home. always under the guise of "practice," always followed by giggles and performance reviews, as if you were merely rehearsing for some future that required this skill.

by the time school started again, you had become fluent in each other, able to translate the slightest change in breathing, the smallest shift in posture. it was a dictionary written in skin and breath, a grammar of touch and taste.

a language destined to become a dead one far sooner than either of you could have imagined.

⚘

eighth grade arrived with the subtle seismic shifts of tectonic plates—imperceptible to most, but you felt the tremors beneath your feet. jackie joined the advanced soccer team, began spending weekends at tournaments in neighboring towns. you joined the literary magazine, disappearing into the cocoon of the newspaper office during lunch periods.

the kisses became less frequent, though more intense when they happened. there was a desperation to them now, as if jackie was trying to memorize the feel of you before something took you away from her.

"jeff sadecki asked me to the harvest dance," she told you one october afternoon. you were lying on your stomachs in her bedroom, algebra homework spread before you, though neither of you had written anything for twenty minutes.

"are you going to go?" you asked, carefully keeping your voice neutral, tracing the edge of your textbook with one finger.

"i think so," she said, watching your finger move. "my mom would literally explode with joy. she's been hinting about me and jeff since his mom and her started that book club."

you nodded, understanding the invisible architecture of expectations that had been built around jackie since birth. good grades. soccer excellence. student council. and now, the perfect boyfriend—handsome enough, smart enough, from the right kind of family. jeff sadecki with his easy smile and varsity jacket already as an eighth grader, being groomed for high school glory just as jackie was.

"he's nice," you offered, because it was true, and because you knew that was what jackie needed to hear.

"yeah," she agreed, not meeting your eyes. "he's nice."

that night, when she kissed you goodbye at your front door—a risky move given the well-lit porch and curtainless windows—there was a finality to it that made your chest ache.

"just because i'm going to the dance with him doesn't mean anything changes with us," she whispered against your lips.

but you were the reader of stories, the one who could see foreshadowing in everyday moments, who understood the inevitable trajectory of narrative arcs. you knew an ending when you tasted one.

"nothing ever stays the same, jackie," you said, pulling back to look into those bunny eyes, now shining with unshed tears. "that's okay. that's how life works."

she shook her head, suddenly fierce. "not us. we're different."

you wanted to believe her. for a moment, standing there with her cold hands framing your face, you almost did.

the fault lines continued to spread throughout that year. jeff became jackie's boyfriend in the official, going-steady sense. you started spending lunches with lottie, who shared your interest in astrology and tarot, and laura lee, whose fervent christianity somehow complemented your more pagan sensibilities rather than clashing with it. different lunch tables became different social circles became different weekend activities.

the last time you and jackie kissed was the night before high school started. she had come to your house, unexpected, climbing the tree outside your window like she used to do in elementary school when her parents were fighting and she needed escape.

"i'm scared," she admitted, sitting cross-legged on your bed, looking smaller than she had in months.

"of high school?" you asked, closing the book you'd been reading.

she shook her head. "of everything. of not being good enough. of being exactly what everyone expects and nothing more. of—" she paused, looking down at her hands. "of how i feel when I'm with you."

the confession hung between you, heavier than any silence you'd shared.

"how do you feel when you're with me?" you asked, though you knew. of course you knew. you felt it too—the rightness, the completion, the sense of coming home that no other friendship or relationship had ever given you.

"like i'm real," she whispered. "like i don't have to pretend."

you moved then, crossing the small distance between you, taking her face in your hands as she had held yours so many times. "you never have to pretend with me."

the kiss that followed was different from all the others—not practice, not play, but promise. a vow written in the press of lips and the tangle of tongues, in the way her hands fisted in your shirt and yours threaded through her hair. you tasted salt and realized she was crying, or maybe you both were, tears mingling in the seam where your mouths met.

when you finally broke apart, breathing hard, foreheads still touching, jackie spoke words that would echo through the empty corridors of your future;

"i can't be this. i'm sorry, but i can't."

"this?" you gestured between you. "you mean being friends?"

"you know that's not what i mean." her voice dropped to a whisper. "the other stuff. it has to stop. it's—it's not right."

the words landed like a slap. "not right?"

"it's disgusting," she said, but her voice wavered on the word, betraying the lie. "i'm with jeff now. i think i love him."

you stepped back as if burned. "you don't mean that."

"i do," she insisted. "we're not kids anymore. it's time to grow up."

high school dawned crisp and clear, a perfect september morning that felt like a mockery of your shattered heart. the hallways of wiskayok high were wider than those of the middle school, the ceilings higher, the social hierarchies more rigidly enforced. by lunchtime on the first day, everyone knew their place—or at least, knew where they were supposed to aspire to sit.

jackie slid effortlessly into her predetermined role; freshman soccer star, girlfriend of sophomore football player jeff sadecki, potential homecoming court material despite her young age. she walked the halls with a confidence that looked genuine to everyone who hadn't spent a decade learning her tells—the slight tension in her shoulders, the too-wide smile, the way she checked her reflection in every available surface.

you found your niche in the spaces between expectations. too smart to be dismissed, too pretty in your unconventional way to be entirely outcast, too unapologetically yourself to be fully embraced by any single clique. you spent your lunch periods in the library or the courtyard with lottie and laura lee, an unlikely trio bound by your shared appreciation for the mysteries that existed just beyond the veil of everyday life.

lottie, with her dark eyes that seemed to see straight through pretense, never asked why you flinched when Jackie and her soccer teammates passed your table. laura lee, whose faith gave her a compassion rare in the gladiatorial arena of high school, simply passed you extra cookies from her immaculately packed lunch on the days when jackie and jeff were particularly demonstrative in the hallways.

you watched from a distance as jackie became more polished, more perfect, more packaged for public consumption. her natural grace on the soccer field translated to a carefully choreographed performance of ideal teenage girlhood off it. by sophomore year, she was captain of the jv team, dating the varsity quarterback, maintaining a gpa that kept her solidly in the top ten percent without threatening the true academic overachievers.

you bloomed differently—unfurling rather than constructing, growing toward whatever light called to you rather than the one you were expected to seek. your essays won state competitions. your poems were published in literary journals that usually only accepted college students' work. a short story you wrote about two childhood friends who communicated through a secret language earned you a summer workshop at the state university, where professors spoke of your voice as "astonishingly mature" and "hauntingly authentic."

for two years, you and jackie enacted an elaborate performance of polite distance. you acknowledged each other with nods in hallways, exchanged bland pleasantries when mutual activities forced interaction. to outsiders, you were former friends who had drifted apart as childhood companions often do. only you knew the truth of what had been lost.

until junior year, when the fault lines that had been dormant suddenly ruptured.

⚘

it happened at shauna shipman's halloween party, one of those high school gatherings that seemed destined for disaster from its conception. parents out of town, a house too nice to risk trashing but too tempting not to use, alcohol flowing freely despite most attendees being years from legal drinking age.

you hadn't planned to go. parties were jackie's domain, not yours. but lottie had insisted, claiming the veil between worlds was thinnest on halloween, and what better place to observe the unmasking of true selves than at a costume party?

so there you were, dressed as ophelia in the depths of her madness—flower crown askew on your curls, vintage nightgown artfully torn and stained with watercolors to suggest river water, eyes dramatically lined to hint at beautiful despair.

"bit on the nose, isn't it?" lottie commented when she picked you up, herself resplendent as some pagan goddess with antlers woven into her dark hair.

"literature is always on the nose," you replied. "that's why it hurts so much."

you didn't plan to stay long—just enough to appease lottie, maybe talk to a few people from your ap literature class who might appreciate your costume's details. what you didn't plan for was jackie, three drinks past her usual limit, dressed as a playboy bunny—an outfit that played up both her soccer-toned body and the nickname you had given her so many years ago.

she saw you from across the room, those wide eyes growing impossibly wider. for a moment, the carefully constructed mask slipped, and you saw your jackie—the girl who had handed you a sand bucket, who had let you read aloud for hours, who had kissed you beneath a canopy of stars.

then jeff's arm slid around her waist, and the mask snapped back into place.

you retreated to the relative quiet of the kitchen, hoping to find water or perhaps even a quieter exit. instead, you found yourself cornered by travis, a quiet boy from your calculus class who had been working up the courage to talk to you for weeks.

"your costume is amazing," he said, sincerity evident in his voice. "you actually look like you stepped out of a pre-raphaelite painting."

you smiled, genuinely surprised by his art history reference. "thank you. i wasn't sure anyone would get it."

"i did a project on millais last year," he explained, then launched into an enthusiastic if slightly nervous discussion of victorian art that was actually interesting enough to distract you from your desire to leave.

you didn't notice jackie watching from the doorway, her bunny ears askew, her eyes narrowed with an emotion too complex to name.

later, you would piece together what happened from fragmented accounts and your own blurred memories; jackie, drunk and emotional, confronting jeff about some perceived slight. jeff, equally intoxicated, saying something careless. jackie, storming off to the bathroom. you, excusing yourself from travis to get some air on the back porch. the paths crossing in the hallway.

"having fun with travis?" jackie's voice had an edge you'd never heard before.

"he's nice," you said, echoing her words about jeff from so long ago.

"nice," she repeated, almost sneering. "is that what you want? nice?"

"what do you think i want, jackie?" the question came out tired rather than confrontational.

she stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the vodka cranberries on her breath, could see the smudge in her otherwise perfect eyeliner. "i think you want what you can't have."

"that's rich, coming from you."

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"it means you're the one who walked away, not me." the words came out sharper than you intended, years of carefully contained hurt suddenly finding release.

jackie's face contorted, a kaleidoscope of emotions shifting too quickly to track. "you think i wanted to? you think i had a choice?"

"we all have choices, jackie. every day."

"easy for you to say." her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "you get to be you. free and artistic and not caring what anyone thinks. i don't have that luxury."

"it's not a luxury. it's courage."

she recoiled as if slapped. "so i'm a coward now?"

"i didn't say that."

"you didn't have to." jackie's eyes filled with tears that she angrily blinked away. "you've always been so fucking superior, haven't you? so sure you know everything about everyone's heart."

"i never claimed to know everything," you said quietly. "just yours."

something broke in her expression then—the final wall crumbling. "you don't, though. you don't know what it's like to feel like you're rotting from the inside out. to know that everything you're supposed to want, everything you've been raised to chase, feels like ash in your mouth compared to—" she stopped abruptly.

"compared to what, jackie?"

"compared to one minute with you," she whispered, defeat and revelation mingling in her voice.

what happened next was inevitable as gravity—her hands finding your face, your bodies colliding against the hallway wall, mouths meeting with the desperate hunger of the long-starved. it was nothing like your childhood kisses, nothing like your tentative teenage explorations. this was excavation, archaeology, mining for something precious thought lost forever.

and like all such desperate digs, it caused a collapse.

"what the fuck?"

jeff's voice shattered the moment. you broke apart to find him standing at the end of the hallway, face twisted in confusion and dawning anger. behind him, a small crowd had gathered, drawn by the promise of drama.

jackie froze, her face draining of color. you watched as her eyes darted from jeff to the onlookers, saw the exact moment when panic overtook every other emotion.

"it's not—she just—i was trying to get her off me," jackie stammered, stepping away from you as if burned.

the words hit like physical blows. you stared at her, unable to process this ultimate betrayal.

"jesus, i always knew there was something weird about her," someone in the crowd murmured.

"fucking dyke," someone else said, not bothering to lower their voice.

jackie looked at you, naked terror in her eyes. "i'm sorry," she mouthed silently.

but you were already moving, pushing through the crowd, ignoring the taunts and whispers, running from the house with flower petals from your crown scattering behind you like ophelia's sanity breaking apart on the current.

the aftermath was as brutal as high school could make it. for you, at least. somehow, jackie emerged relatively unscathed—the popular girl who had been accosted by her strange former friend, the victim rather than the participant. jeff, after initial anger, took her back. her soccer teammates closed ranks around her. the story morphed in the retelling until you were the predator, she the innocent prey.

lottie and laura lee stood by you, fierce in their loyalty. travis, surprisingly, became another ally, walking you to classes when the whispers grew too loud, sharing his notes on days when you couldn't face the hallways. but high school was still high school, and the weight of being suddenly, unwillingly visible was suffocating.

winter came early that year, november bringing snow that usually waited until december. you watched it fall from the window of your bedroom, wondering if the universe was mocking you with its metaphors—jackie's season descending before its time, burying the world in cold silence.

you didn't see her outside of classes you couldn't avoid. she kept her eyes down when forced into proximity, her face a mask of practiced indifference. only once did you catch her mask slip—in the girls' bathroom during fifth period, when she thought herself alone. you entered silently, saw her gripping the sink, staring at her reflection with such naked self-loathing that you almost went to her, almost reached out.

then she noticed you in the mirror and the mask slammed back into place. she left without washing her hands or saying a word.

december brought holiday preparations and the temporary reprieve of everyone being too busy with exams and family obligations to maintain active torment. you threw yourself into writing, producing a series of poems that your english teacher described as "disturbingly beautiful" and urged you to submit to collegiate competitions.

january crawled by, february a blur of gray skies and slush-covered sidewalks. you survived by disappearing into books, into words, into the worlds you created where endings could be rewritten and love didn't collapse under the weight of expectation.

and then came march, with its false promises of thaw, its teasing glimpses of sun between snow flurries. you were sitting in the library during lunch, lost in sylvia plath's "ariel," when a shadow fell across your page.

"can we talk?"

jackie's voice, so familiar yet strange after months of silence. you looked up to find her standing awkwardly before you, clutching the strap of her backpack like a lifeline.

"i don't think we have anything to say to each other." your voice came out steadier than you felt.

"please." one word, but it contained oceans.

you gathered your books slowly, giving yourself time to rebuild the walls her presence immediately threatened to crumble. "fine. where?"

"the old equipment shed? after school?"

the location choice wasn't lost on you—the site of so many of your secret meetings in earlier days, now abandoned as the school had built newer facilities closer to the main fields.

"i'll be there at 3:30," you said, not looking at her. "i won't wait long."

she nodded and left quickly, as if afraid you might change your mind.

you told yourself you wouldn't go. told yourself it was masochism, not closure. told yourself there was nothing she could say that would matter now.

but at 3:25, you found yourself walking across the still-frozen field toward the shed, your breath clouding before you in the march chill.

jackie was already there, pacing the small interior, her varsity jacket pulled tight against the cold. she stopped when you entered, her eyes wide and uncertain.

"you came," she said, as if she couldn't quite believe it.

"i said i would." you remained near the door, unwilling to step fully into this space so laden with memory.

jackie took a deep breath. "i need to apologize. what i did at the party—throwing you under the bus like that—it was unforgivable."

"yes," you agreed. "it was."

she flinched but continued. "i was scared and drunk and stupid, but that's not an excuse. i've been a coward for years, and that night was just the worst example."

you said nothing, waiting.

"the thing is," she continued when you didn't speak, "i've been thinking a lot about what you said. about choices. about courage." she paced again, unable to stay still under the weight of what she was trying to say. "i don't want to be a coward anymore."

"what does that mean, jackie?" you were tired, suddenly, of riddles and half-truths.

she stopped pacing and looked directly at you for what felt like the first time in years. "it means i'm in love with you. i think i have been since we were kids. and i've been running from it because i thought there was something wrong with me for feeling that way."

the words hung in the cold air between you, crystallizing like frost.

"you hurt me," you said finally. "not just at the party. every day since eighth grade when you decided i was too dangerous to your perfect life."

"i know." her eyes filled with tears. "and i will regret that for the rest of my life. but i'm here now, telling you the truth, finally. for whatever that's worth."

"and jeff? the soccer team? the perfect jackie taylor life?"

she swallowed hard. "jeff and i broke up last week. the rest... i don't know. i just know i can't keep pretending. it's killing me." she took a tentative step toward you. "i don't expect you to forgive me. i don't expect anything. i just needed you to know that you were right—about me being a coward, about me making choices. i'm trying to make better ones now."

you studied her face, looking for signs of the old jackie—the girl who would say whatever was necessary to maintain appearances, to keep her world spinning on its prescribed axis. but all you saw was raw honesty and fear.

"i don't know what to say," you admitted.

"you don't have to say anything. i just..." she wrapped her arms around herself. "i miss my best friend. i miss the person who knew me better than i knew myself. i miss you."

the simple truth of it cracked something in your carefully maintained armor.

"i've missed you too," you whispered.

jackie's eyes lit with cautious hope. "really?"

"every day."

she took another step toward you, then another, until she was close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes, could smell the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"i can't promise i won't mess up again," she said softly. "i can't promise i'll be brave all the time. but i want to try. with you, if you'll let me."

you reached out slowly, touched her cheek with fingertips that remembered the feel of her skin from years of memorizing it in secret moments.

"i don't need you to be brave all the time," you said. "i just need you to be honest. with yourself, most of all."

she turned her face into your touch, eyes closing briefly. "i can do that."

outside, a tentative sun broke through the clouds, sending shafts of light through the shed's dusty windows. somewhere in the distance, a bird began to sing—the first herald of spring's approach.

"it won't be easy," you warned, thinking of the world waiting beyond this momentary shelter.

jackie opened her eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "nothing worth having ever is."

she leaned forward then, hesitant, giving you every chance to pull away. you didn't. when her lips met yours, it felt like recognition, like remembering something essential you had tried to forget.

it felt like spring melting winter, like currents too strong to fight.

it felt, at last, like truth.

⚘

spring came late that year, but when it arrived, it came with a vengeance—green exploding across the landscape, flowers erupting from soil that had seemed dead only weeks before, the world renewing itself with reckless abandon.

you and jackie moved cautiously at first, relearning each other in stolen moments between classes, in weekend hours spent in the sanctuary of your book-filled bedroom, in long walks through forests just beginning to wake from winter's dormancy.

the rest of junior year unfolded in unexpected ways. jackie quit the soccer team, causing a minor scandal that was soon overshadowed by prom drama and graduation preparations for the seniors. she joined the literary magazine staff, revealing a talent for photography that complemented your words in ways that surprised you both. together, you created a series of photo essays that won the publication its first national recognition.

lottie and laura lee welcomed jackie into your lunch table circle with minimal skepticism, though lottie made it clear in her eerily perceptive way that second betrayals would not be tolerated. travis became a friend to you both, his quiet intellect and complete lack of interest in high school politics making him a safe harbor in still-turbulent waters.

there were still whispers, still sidelong glances in hallways. but as spring progressed into summer, as junior year gave way to the promise of senior year and beyond, those voices seemed to matter less and less.

on the last day of school, you and jackie returned to the equipment shed—not out of secrecy now, but out of sentiment. you brought a blanket to spread over the dusty floor, a small basket of strawberries and chocolate, a bottle of sparkling cider smuggled from your parents' fridge.

"do you remember the first time we came here?" jackie asked, lying beside you on the blanket, her fingers intertwined with yours.

"seventh grade," you said. "after you scored the winning goal against westfield. you were so pumped up on adrenaline you practically dragged me in here."

she laughed. "i told you i wanted to show you something important."

"and then you kissed me."

"and then i kissed you," she agreed. "best impulse i ever had."

you turned to look at her, at the face you had loved in so many different ways throughout your shared life. "we took the long way around, didn't we?"

jackie's expression softened. "maybe we needed to. maybe i needed to understand what i'd be missing if i kept making the wrong choices."

"and now?"

"now i know." she shifted onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at you. "i know that nothing—not popularity or parental approval or some cookie-cutter future—is worth giving up what i feel when I'm with you."

you reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "and what do you feel when you're with me?"

"real," she said simply, echoing words from a night years ago. "like i don't have to pretend."

you pulled her down to you then, a kiss that tasted of strawberries and possibility, of winters survived and springs renewed.

outside, summer was asserting itself—the sun high and hot, the world lush with life. inside the small shed, time seemed suspended, the past and future collapsing into a perfect present.

later, walking home with your hands swinging between you, unafraid now of who might see, jackie stopped suddenly.

"what is it?" you asked.

she was looking at you with an expression of wonder, as if seeing you for the first time. "i just realized something."

"what?"

"im happy," she said, sounding surprised. "actually, genuinely happy."

you smiled, feeling the truth of it in your own chest—a lightness that had been absent for too long. "me too."

as you continued walking, you thought about the cycles of seasons, how winter always gives way to spring, how spring inevitably yields to summer. how nothing is permanent except change itself.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ yuri is life :3 who missed me?

TAGLIST :: @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @waitforyrlove @ncm9696 @marrykisskilled @m4gz-png @ifwdominicfike @honeymoonchem @ch6rm @freshloveee @theapollochronicles @mattsdolll @jetaimevous @secretlocket @saturniolo

Most fucked up thing i ever drew...

back on my tmasc nat thoughts because i love him. being so attentive after his top surgery, like he could be saying "ow" from the slightest wince and you're already rushing to his side

you honestly can't stop admiring him, maybe he's in denial of not seeing the changes yet you completely reassure him :((( getting so flustered at his voice getting deeper and raspier, especially from the hair growth too UGH

⋆ 🍓

i like to think that since hes Italian, he started getting way more body hair after starting T. nat who whines about it because his roots are even darker, and he has to bleach his hair more >.>

also, trans or not, nat with body hair 🤤🤤 nat with fuzz on his stomach....nat with hairy arms and hairy legs... nat with that prepubescent mustache that every tmasc guy has a phase of. Yeah.

feel like he'd love the amount of attention you give him after surgery, blushing while telling you that he can get up on his own but pouting when you actually give him space. nat who loves being taken care of!! gosh he's so thankful that you have everything ready for him back at home... his favorite pillow already fluffed up and his cozy clothes ready for him to put on. he loves you so much.

nat crying because of the pain :( he moved the wrong way and hated the way the compression binder rubbed against his scars and just lost it, breathing out heavily while trying to control his tears but he ends up calling for you, face twisted up in pain that makes you almost cry. ur so much more attentive after that, literally any slight "ouch" from him and ur asking a million questions to see if he's alright 😭

nat whos slightly disappointed at how it looks post op because all he wants to do is be shirtless all the time but it's all bruised and he's so nitpicky about it but i think he's just in slight denial of this huge change he went thru. of course he's happy tho!! and all those times u reassured him that it'll look good once it heals helps him so much :(

also thinking of him working out after it heals too 🤤 taking progress pics and sending them to you whenever he goes to the gym...

Yandere BatFam x other dimension Reader.

SYPNOSIS: In another world they did love you.

IMP: Reader did get neglected in her dimension.

You've never been a figure or anything important, not something worth the light. Even in picture everybody looked so good and you're just there, even just from a glance it's hard to notice you.

You've tried to shine to take that light everybody else have in their grip but the light was purposefully avoiding you.

No amount of grade, beauty or perfection would make you their baby. Someone they cared for.

You weren't some star like them just the black sheep, everybody else have a life they can call theirs but your life was already written out for you, every possible things already carved out by everyone else but yourself.

Unlike Dick you weren't charming or good looking everything about him was amazing and admirable... The first Robin and the first to become their own person. Not even Bruce get to curve his story...

He treat his siblings equally, that was what he preached... It was true. You weren't a family to him, you didn't matter enough to be apart of his family.

Even when Jason decided to started killing you stayed by his side, brought him food and even tried to build an actual relationship but it was no use.

Everybody called you desperate for crawling to him when he needed somebody and the moment he healed(kind of) he throw you away. Ignoring how you were the only one who stood up for him, took all the insult and humiliation for his sake yet he took you for granted.

You took the word, hit and almost got disowned, for somebody who doesn't even care. You almost died for somebody you thought was your brother yet he didn't do shit when the family almost disowned you for staying by his side... Didn't offer home or solace. Just ignored your suffering for his sake.

Tim was smart everything you adore in a brother, stayed by his side spent sleepless nights just to watch over him when he was in the hospital, trying your best to support your brother who you fear might die.

Yes, everyone didn't get enough sleep but you didn't even sleep stayed by his side to make sure no harm could happened to him. Took your time to read book's knowing he can't even hear you, doing everything.

Yet when he opened his eyes he hugged the family and not you, even have the audacity to ask you to go out while they had some 'family' catch up...

Damian was one hell of a monster, yet you never gave up on him. He was just a kid and you wanted to be the admirable older siblings you never had.

It wasn't easy it never was, the constant lie about you to everyone and yes nobody in this world pity you enough to hear your side... Yout life was already hell and it wad just unfair how everybody else got what they wished for and you never get anything... Not even a family.

To the eyes of the media you were the black sheep often left out even in family portraits or any major Wayne gala, just some avarage citizen that was living the life...

Bruce couldn't remember your name's at times blaming it on old age, Alfred only saw you as an extra mouth nothing more nothing less.

Even when The joker kidnapped you and made Bruce choose between you and Catwoman he almost hesitate, you were never the first or second, you weren't an option to everybody... Just some extras living with them to make them look better.

Being you was painful itself, when your family who were supposed to be the hero rejected your presence.

So, when you accidentally step into another dimension you became attached.

Your false family loved you to no ends, you were dead in that universe... Dying a gruesome death.

Yet when they saw you alive even tho you weren't their family they cherished you and most importantly treat you like a family.

There was no more I no more threats just a loving family.

Who will do whatever to make you stay.

"I like this" You told them, you couldn't help but smile.

You've never played games with your actual family before, to them you were an actual bot with nothing interesting.

"Oh, you won't like it for long... I'll beat you"

Tim said as he aggressively nudge at you to make you lose control.

"Hey! That's cheating, someone take him out!"

Barbara stood up for you.

"Everything is fair in games... As long as you're the winner"

Damian speak up as he instinctively grab Tim hoodie and cover his eyes with it. To let you win.

"That's cheating! I should have won"

"Everything is fair in games... Just gotta have the right support"

You couldn't help it, everybody were together. You were finally in the picture, you didn't have to fit in they just have to accept you and they absolutely did.

You couldn't help but tear up, your heart aching slightly.

"Little wing are you okay? Should w-"

Dick spoke before he was cut off by Damian.

"Let's beat up Tim, he made them cry"

"Huh?! Im the one that lost... Your violence towards me make them scared!"

Before anyone else could argue on who made you cry Jason who was just there because of you spoke up.

"Don't be so obnoxious and loud... They're obviously emotional for a good reason. Bunch of wannabe adult in this room"

With that said he would gave you this handkerchief which was very unusual of him.

Taking a seat next to you on the ground as he pick up the extra controller, not even weirded out by your suddenly burst of tears just pure understanding.

Your Jason was the one who kick you aside the moment he felt healed but this one... He was trying his best to comfort you, he didn't like to be so upfront yet he was doing this to save you from embarassment and a little comfort.

Looking at the Handkerchief you couldn't help but smile, the same one you gave to your Jason when he came back but the one you made was burned into crispy by the very person you made for. He took it and throw it inside the crumbling building that was ignited into flames by him.

Called it a waste of fabric and time, not worth his precious time or life even tho you spend weeks stitching everything by hand... You just wanted to encourage him to be better you didn't knew he would take offence to your kindness.

There was some holes on the handkerchief yet it was extremely clean and ironed... He seems to cherish it alot.

"Took it everywhere and I ruined it, it was my lucky charm but you're here now so you'll be a good replacement"

"I don't think being compared to a literal fabric is fulfilling"

Duke commented.

"It's not just a fabric it's made by our beloved sibling here, shame on you Duke, shame on you"

Stephanie tease him with a fake offended look.

"They only made it for Jaybird... Im abit upse- Very upset"

Dick decided to bring another reason to start a full on war again.

"Hey! I want one but with our special logo!"

"This is childish, but I need one for a good purpose"

"Im the oldest so I should be first"

"Want one"

"Enough!"

Bruce spoke up, seems like all the arguing had finally went into his brain.

"As your Father... I am first priority"

"Master Bruce, as your somewhat father I must be the first I insist"

This was what family should be, united and happy. One that are willing to be by yourside even at your worst, willing to take the hit with you and just be ourselves to eachother without shame.

While you were finally getting the life you deserved your actual family were crumbling. Trying to find you, turning every nook and crook up side down.

Gotham was turning into literal hell, they were acting like dog hound pounding onto anyone who they assume have information on your whereabouts.

It seems like they have finally realised your worth. But you've already replaced them.

You were slowly healing but too bad they won't tolerate being replaced.

Watch me flop.