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chlerc · 10 months ago

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back in barcelona ; joão félix

— summary; catching her in the stands while he’s playing for barcelona is certainly not the way he thought he’d ever see her again.

pairing — joao felix x old-friends-actress!f. reader ( third person story )

social media au + 1085.

content — old friends, she studied in joao’s school but moved back to barcelona and they were only mutuals on instagram but never talked. joao pinned over her.

NAVIGATION + author’s note: back in chicago trend but make it back in barcelona cause you can never take the man out of the barcelona girl!!!

song rec for this fic — end of beginning!!

Liked by hugofelix18, itsnicolewallace and 3,827,197 others

ynusername did you miss me, Viseu?

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itsnicolewallace I MISS YOU, regresa a mí!!! (come back to me)

evaruiz tan hermosa (so gorgeous)

maddisonarg love you

ynusername @maddisonarg love you too!!!

gabrieloxguevaraa eres tan bonitaaaaa (you’re so pretty)

ynusername @gabrielxoguevaraa halagándome guapo (flattering me, handsome)

ferrantorres 🔥

yn.officialupdates Drop dead gorgeous

hugofelix18 meu irmão sentiu sua falta (my brother missed you)

ynusername @hugofelix18 saia do aplicativo 🤦🏻‍♀️ (get off the app)

Liked by joaofelix79, louispatridge_ and 4,817,912 others

ynusername THE LAST TIME ON SET!!! Super excited for this to go out on @netflixes soon, catch Through My Window coming up. Really really love this one, please look forward to it 🤍

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juliopfernandez por favor espera #ATravésDeTuMirada!!! (please look forward to Through My Window)

carlitosalcarazz Le conté a mi mamá sobre nosotros 😉 (I told my mum about us)

ynusername @carlitosalcarazz sin habla 🤦🏻‍♀️ (speechless)

siramartinezc Eres tan bonita te quiero tan mala (you’re so pretty I want you so bad)

hugofelix18 legal, vou dizer ao meu irmão para assistir (Nice, will tell my brother to watch it)

ynusername @hugofelix18 HUGOOOO, ir para a cama 😠 (go to bed)

joaofelix79 @hugofelix18 você está cheio de merda, o que você está fazendo e dizendo aqui? (You’re full of shit, what are you doing and saying here?)

gqportugal 🤩🤩🤩

gqspain ¡nuestra princesa! (Our princess)

IT COULD HAVE BEEN the lack of sleep catching up on him from yesterday but he swore he wasn’t seeing things. Amidst the sea of faces in the crowd, his gaze kept drifting to a familiar figure seated near the team’s bench where he stood nearby taking a quick gulp of water.

There she was, with her eyes the colour of earth kissed by spring rains, the hue that promises to stir life from dormant seeds, the nascent plants guided upward by the light before blossoming into the vibrant colours of a new season. Her hair was the brown of aged mahogany, rich and deep, yet with the subtle hues only time brings. Those strands that he was too familiar with, staring at the back of her head back in the days whilst she sat in front of him in classes.

She was a constant presence in his thoughts, a captivating enigma he couldn't shake off. Her laughter echoed in his mind when the lights dimmed in his bedroom, her smile a beacon of warmth that drew him in. But here, in the midst of the pulsating stadium, João couldn't believe his eyes. Was it truly her?

Throughout the match, João’s mind oscillated between the thrill of the game and the enigmatic presence of her. His concentration wavered, his thoughts drifting to moments shared and conversations unspoken. With each passing minute, the field seemed to blur, his focus slipping away like sand through his fingers.

But duty called and he pushed aside the distractions, channeling his energy into the game, his every touch eliciting roars of approval from the crowd for those seventy three minutes he played. He thanked his lucky stars and the coach for subbing him off early today, finding himself a seat within her distance. João’s neck awkwardly craned and turned just to catch a glimpse of her, her eyes everywhere but on him.

And when he catches her eyes before he could realise he was staring, his breathing becomes harder, the pensive look on him melting into a smile as soft as the morning light. His body squirms just a little as his muscles relax but he just threw a thumbs up her way, acting as if everything was fine. There was something about that gaze of her he’ll never find in another woman.

As the final whistle blew and Barcelona emerged victorious, João’s heart raced with adrenaline and triumph. But amidst the celebrations, a lingering doubt gnawed at him. Should he have approached her? But it was probably her lookalike, the last he checked her Instagram, she was still on set and busy. At the end of the day, he knew deep in every nook and crevice of his heart that it was probably her and he was just lying to himself, no mistakes on recognising the girl he secretly pinned after in highschool.

There would be other matches, other moments. For now, João embraced the euphoria of victory, knowing that somewhere amidst the chaos of the stadium, she lingered, a silent specter in the tapestry of his dreams. He made a mental note of checking her Instagram later tonight and stop his brother from commenting outrageous comments about himself.

Liked by joaofelix79, judebellingham and 4,917,137 others

ynusername back in barcelona, i feel it 🤍

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judebellingham wrong place bruv, thought we talked about this before?

ynusername @judebellingham literally born in barcelona before i went to UK and befriend you whilst on shoot??? the ego, jude…

judebellingham @ynusername YOU’RE SOOO MEAN, did you just call me egoistic? Not gonna talk to you ever 😞

rolemod3lyn @ynusername Y’ALL ARE FRIENDS???

claaragalle no podría extrañarte más (couldn’t miss you more)

drewstarkey you visiting home but I don’t see you? (I’m supposed to be your home) 😠

ksi #drinkprime!

ynusername @ksi this is not the football team you sponsored mate????

ksi @ynusername ohhh i thought…

Liked by fcbarcelona, joaofelix79 and 8,816,192 others

ynusername off season for me but always cheering my number 1 and childhood team on with Laila! ps ksi this is the team you sponsor.

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ksi #DRINKPRIME

judebellingham how bout you come to madrid and visit your friend (me) too!

ynusername @judebellingham thought someone didn’t wanna talk to me 😒

judebellingham @ynusername we LITERALLY FACETIMED after my comment????

fcbarcelona Welcome Back Home ✨🏠

barca.4life SHE A CULER TOO???

davidrenzo she just got more perfect

forblaugrana One of our own, culer 💙❤️

ferrantorres Bienvenido de vuelta amiga, gracias por venir! (Welcome back home friend, thanks for coming by!)

ynusername @ferrantorres no hay problema chico tiburón 👉🦈 (no problem shark boy)

itsnicolewallace Dijiste que me llamarías cuando hayas vuelto a España, mentirosa (you said you'd call me when you're back in spain, liar)

ynusername @itsnicolewallace ¡Te iba a sorprender! (I was going to surprise you)

The last time he was playing in the stadium and on the pitch was when she was here. And she literally was here after her two recent posts on her social media platform accounts. And he was right, João would never recognise the wrong woman, not when he memorised every bit and parts of her before she left Viseu.

In the velvet night, the shining light of the stadium shone upon her, illuminating each and every feature of her. João legs unable to carry himself forward, entranced by her with his match jersey in one hand and a towel in the other. There she was looking right at him, dead in his eyes whilst a small grin plastered across her face.

“You’re staring at her like you love her.” Ferran nudges him by his shoulder, a small hint of banter evident in his voice. “She’s your friend though, isn’t she?” João questions, his once agape jaw now capable of finding words to speak, arms hanging around Ferran’s shoulders as they walk towards where she was.

“Yeah but we aren’t that close like you are with her.” Ferran shrugs nonchalantly, removing João’s arm around his shoulder before patting João on the back and pushing him towards her before running into the tunnel. “Good luck, I know you can do it.” He heard the whispers of Ferran before actually processing what happened.

“Long time no see and talk, great goal today Floki.” She rubbed his shoulders, calling him by his nickname she had for him in school. She was the whole entire point of naming his own dog Floki, just to have the simplest and smallest yet memorable thing of her by his side.

His palms turned sweaty at the moment, nibbling at the lower lip of his and he swore he could hear his heart palpitating against his chest, yearning to be freed from the tightness within him. “Thanks, it’s so good to see you after all these years. You still look gorgeous.”

Her eyes curved into crescents, his favourite thing about her. “Really, you think so?” Her fingers are linked together while she fiddles with them, swaying her body a little from side to side. “I don’t think so, I am sure. Anyways, what brings you here?”

“You, I heard you have been loaned to Barcelona for the season and I thought to just drop by some matches to watch you while cheering for the team.” She turns João around, pushing him to walk into the tunnel while she follows behind. He didn’t know how to reply, losing all capability of talking when he couldn’t find the right words without messing it up and showing his anxiousness.

“That’s good, I was hoping to catch you in Barcelona when I saw your Instagram post. I mean not that I follow up on it but nevermind, I’m not explaining myself clearly.” He waved his hand in the air, a sign for her to shrug the conversation and whatever he just said off.

“It’s okay I miss you too João, you can just admit it.”

Liked by joaofelix79, hugofelix18 and 7,821,427 others

ynusername Floki & Laila’s papa and mama reunion

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judebellingham uh, Floki as in João Félix’s sausage dog? 🤔

ynusername @judebellingham RUDE! You’re calling Laila a sausage too? You’re calling her fat? BLOCKED.

judebellingham @ynusername YOU’RE PUTTING WORDS INTO MY MOUTH. SAUSAGE DOGS ARE CUTE IS WHAT I MEANT.

bornaswaglife OMG??? THE CROSSOVER

joaofelix79 Laila and Floki’s mama 🤍

ynusername @joaofelix79 you too papa!

ferrantorres 😆😆😆

livenolaughnolife TWO DACHSHUND OMGGG EVEN MATCHING DOGS

barcawag.planet This is literally so unexpected and cute

Liked by ynusername, ferrantorres and 4,927,197 others

joaofelix79 Laila’s mama but myself and Floki’s new mama now 😉

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pablogavi 👏👏

andr34daurent bros pulling 10s on and off pitches

marcguiu9 lindo hermano (nice one brother)

forblaugrana 10/10

ynusername my favourite dog papa 🤍

joaofelix79 @ynusername & my favourite mama

blaugranaplanet ustedes dos son muy lindos juntos, se complementan bien (you two are really cute together, complement each other well)

lamineyamal ¿Tienes dos perros salchicha, papá? (You got two sausage dogs papa?)

fcbarcelona Floki’s Star papa & Princess mama!

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kimarii-00 · 4 months ago

Text

Meant To Be (1)

Summary: Armando is captured by a gang in Colombia where he is sure he will meet his end. He isn’t sure what he’s done to upset these people in particular, but at this point, who hasn’t he upset? He waits for his inevitable demise to greet him, but he’s confused when all that comes to him are the four bland walls in the cell that he’s kept in. He’s even more confused when their leader comes to him, giving him an… apology?

Requested by: @joykai ! (sorry it took so long to write 😭)

Word count: 2.7k

Part 1/3 (?)

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AN: Hello… LMFAO, I have no idea why this took me so long to get out. At first I just had writers block, then I got a job, school started again, my laptop broke lol, and so much more… And also I was stuck on this for soo long trying to make connections between bad boys 3 and 4, and eventually I just ended up changing the request a little bit to fit the story better, I hope that’s okay!

Instead of the story starting off with bad boys 3, I just made it start off at the end of Bad Boys 4 to better fit the storyline I was going for.

This will probably be part 1 of 3 parts, but there could possibly be more parts depending on how much I want to expand this. The goal and the minimum is 3 though.

I also didn’t edit this very thoroughly so please let me know if there is anything I should change..

ALSO THANK YOU TO @yeahnohoneybye FOR HELPING ME WITH THE SPANISH TRANSLATIONS!! Such a big help tysm! It was a while ago but they helped me with the whole spanish section!

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When Armando was breaking his neck to do his mothers’ bidding, he knew that he had fucked with a lot of the wrong people. Gangs, police officers, and just downright dangerous people, and he knew for damn sure it would come back to bite him in the ass later down the line. Though that thought that used to be at the forefront of his mind slowly retreated to the backburner when he was relatively able to avoid confrontation with the people he may have pissed off in his past. Yes, he was technically on the run… But who really cares about technicalities?

The rescue mission that he was involved in to retrieve his fathers wife and the kid of the police captain he just so happened to have killed took a lot out of him. He knew that he was lucky to have made it out alive. Thanks to his father, he was able to escape on a boat and leave before authorities could get to him since he did illegally escape from prison, even if it was because he was being pursued and had people gunning for him.

He spent a lot of time thinking while he was in the water. He was a free man with the power to go damn near anywhere he wanted… Where would he go now? He didn’t exactly have a solid plan; afterall, he wasn’t expecting to be let off the hook like this. Eventually, he arrived at a place he knew he had connections in. He docked his boat and made his way to the larger house-boat that he knew contained an old ‘friend’ of his. The place was isolated and secured, for good reason. Both he and this ‘friend’ had been involved in some dangerous shit in the past.

He knocked on the door and it took a while for anyone to answer, but he knew someone was home. In time, he heard a multitude of locks being unlocked, and the door opened. “Armando?” The man said, “¿Qué haces aquí hombre?” (What are you doing here man?) The language hit like whiplash.

Armando had spent so much time with his father and other English speaking people, it’d been a while since he’d heard it.

“Necesito un favor.”(I need a favor) Armando said, quickly and to the point.

“Que? Espera, ¿no se supone que deberías estar en la cárcel?” (What? Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in jail?) The man questioned.

Armando sighed but nodded, “Sí, pero ya no. Sucedió alguna mierda; ¿Me ayudas? Necesito algunas cosas.” (Yeah but not anymore. Some shit happened; could you just hook me up? I need some stuff) He said.

The man nodded and stepped aside so Armando could come in. The place looked as dirty and unorganized as it's always been, but it had a homey feeling that came with it.

“Disculpa el desorden,” (Sorry for the mess) He laughed, “Algun dia me animare a limpiarlo, te lo juro.” (Someday I’ll motivate myself to clean it, I swear.)

Armando rolled his eyes playfully, knowing damn well this place would never be clean, “Sí, como tu digas” (Yeah, whatever you say).

Armando explained his situation to him, “Técnicamente estoy huyendo, pero ahora necesito una casa. En algún lugar remoto.” (I'm technically on the run, but right now I need a house. Somewhere remote.) “No importa dónde esté.” (Don’t care where it is)

“Mmmm, ¿una casa? Sí, seguramente tengo algo, pero no es tan remoto como te gustaría que fuera.” (Mmmm, a house? Yeah, I probably got something, but it’s not as remote as you’d like it to be.) He said with a smile, rubbing the back of his head, “Ya sabes lo que dicen: Esconderse a plena vista, ¿cierto?” (You know what they say, hiding in plain sight, right?)

Four months. Four months Armando had been living in Columbia. At first, it was hard to get used to. He lived in a small house in an even smaller neighborhood. It took him a while to wrap his mind around the fact that he was just a normal person now. He kept in contact with his father who’d informed him that he was keeping authorities off of his back, the concept of being on the run now foreign to him.

When he’d first moved in, he was wary of everyone and everything, thinking that just one slip up could cost him his new, peaceful life. After the first month went by without any incidents, he began to accept that he was now just a regular guy.

Everything was going great for him. Almost too great.

Armando had an odd feeling today. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt like there was a pit in his stomach ever since he left his house to go to the one convenience store he came to favor. He found himself looking behind his back on more than one occasion, but he chalked it up to him being paranoid. It would happen every so often, why would this time be any different?

“...Efectivo o tarjeta?” (Cash or card?) The woman at the counter said impatiently, and he realized he was zoned out. He gave the woman what he owed in cash, took his bags and left, but he just couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he continued to harbor.

He walked back to his home, hyper aware of the amount of times he thought he’d heard footsteps following behind him, only to turn around and see nothing that could’ve caused the sound, the rustling of bushes that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand cautiously, the chills that he swore came over him every other minute. But everytime he would investigate these strange occurrences, there would be nothing that could possibly endanger him. Why was he so paranoid today in particular?

Looking back, he definitely had a good reason to be.

He was able to return home safely, but was confused when the pit in his stomach made no effort to remove itself. In fact, he felt it only deepened the further he went in the home.

He figured it was time to get some sleep. Maybe some shut eye would help the queasiness.

He’d made it to the door to his room before he realized that something was wrong, and that the stubborn feeling he was fostering for the past thirty minutes was not just a feeling. The door to his room was slightly cracked open.

He knew for a fact that it was not like that before he left.

Just as he came to this realization, he felt a presence behind him. But he didn’t get a chance to get a look at whatever, or rather, whoever was behind him before he felt a muscular arm wrap itself around his throat and squeeze, leaving him with little air, and hardly any room to fight. He clawed at the arm, and tried to use his own strength to tear the arm away from him and create a chance to escape, loosen the grip just a little, anything.

Before long, he felt black spots dancing around the edges of his vision, and for the first time in a long ass time, he felt helpless.

He was still fighting though, and this seemed to aggravate whoever was holding him, “Just sleep dammit!” A gravelly voice said, his grip somehow tightening even more than before.

“Allow me,” A honeyed voice said. Armando faintly heard the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor before a dark-skinned woman came into view. She had a deceiving smile on her face as she looked over him once, and her gaze settled onto the man who was still holding onto him, “Loosen up a bit, would you?”

A loud and dramatic sigh was heard and air began to miraculously flow back into his lungs, and he figured that this was his chance to escape.

He couldn’t even make a move before he felt a prick in the side of his neck, and liquid flowed into him. It made him feel tired easily, and he felt his bones beginning to relax. His eyes lidded, mouth numb, unable to say anything.

The woman in front of him, still smiling sweetly, pulled the needle from his neck. He felt himself slipping farther and farther away from consciousness. Before he could fully fade away, however, he was able to hear his two attackers' conversation as the man let him fall limp on the ground.

“(Name)’ll be happy, this dude owes her a fuck-ton…” The man muttered.

“You know she doesn’t like it when you call her by her name–”

“She’ll let me call her whatever I want when we get this asshole to her.”

“You’re insufferable, y’know that?”

“That’s not what you were saying last night–”

“Just grab him and let's go! God…”

The man chuckled at her reaction, clearly finding it amusing to see her flustered. Armando couldn’t keep himself awake for any longer, and promptly lost consciousness as the man leaned down to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder (rather roughly may he add).

His vision filled with black and his hearing faded to the serene sound of nothingness.

He was awoken by water as cold as what he imagined to be what the water in Antarctica would be like. It splashed onto his face and dripped down into his now damp clothes.

He frantically looked around the room, senses heightened in the unfamiliar place. All he found was the metal chair he himself was sitting in, and an old, dingy light hanging over him that flickered every now and then. He found his limbs to be bound by a tight rope that he could tell were not budging any time soon. HIs lips tightened as he realized his situation. Damn it.

“You’re finally awake, I was starting to think the little miss over there killed ya,” He gestured over to the dark-skinned woman who he hadn’t noticed lurking in the corner of the room. She shrugged and her lips curled into an innocent smile.

“I told you he’d be fine.” She said, nonchalantly. Armando didn’t say a word, contemplating in his mind different ways he could handle the situation. He couldn’t spot any windows or doors other than the one that was in front of him, but he knew there was no chance of getting out through there.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Pissed that you got caught? You know, it took an awfully long time to track you down.” The man said, sliding over his own chair and sitting on it backwards, letting his arms hang over the wooden back of it.

“The boss doesn’t want you dead just yet, to my surprise. If you play your cards right you might even get to live to see another day.”

“Unfortunately.” The muscle man sighed out dramatically. Armando still found himself staying quiet. He knew that, given his past working with his mother, the list of dangerous people he’d pissed off at some point might as well have been a book. These people in particular didn’t immediately ring any bells, but they did mention this ‘boss’ of theirs, so perhaps they’re the one he tipped off.

“You know what you’re here for so what’s the point in biting your tongue? Just fess up and pay up.” The woman said, pushing herself off of the wall and making her way to him. He held eye contact until she reached him and bent down so her eyes were on the same level as his were, “Is your pride really worth your life?”

Silence filled the room, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the burly man begin to stand, looking aggravated at his continuous silence. The woman held her hand up nonchalantly, gesturing to the man to sit back down and let her handle it.

He saw the reluctance but he eventually sat back down, but Armando could tell he was getting agitated. The woman focused her attention back on him. She took her pointer finger and gently placed it underneath his chin, lifting it slightly. She had her usual smile, but her eyes gave away her irritation. “Listen, you understand you can walk out of here if you just give us what we’re owed, correct? Our boss is being awfully generous. Don’t tell me you’re just going to throw away that generosity…”

He let her finish her sentence but he wasn’t hearing any of it. Whatever he owed these people wasn’t his problem anymore, and therefore, he decided to make sure that point was well received by his two kidnappers. He spat a glob of spit right between her eyebrows.

He’d never seen someone look so offended. The fake smile dropped instantly and was replaced by the meanest stank-face he’d ever experienced. Her partner damn near broke his wooden chair as he shot up from it, the chair clattering on the ground.

“I told (Name) this asshole wouldn’t cooperate,” The man yelled. Just as he was about to stomp his way over to a helpless Armando, his phone buzzed.

The man stopped in his tracks. When he took his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widened.

“Jax.” The man said simply into the phone. Was his name Jax, or was he speaking to a Jax?

Armando felt the burning gaze of the woman he spat at, but he favored listening to Jax’s (?) conversation rather than another staring contest with the woman he’d pissed off earlier.

“Right now? But… Y-yes… Yes ma’am… I understand… We’ll be there in five.” The man said, scratching the side of his head. After a few seconds, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and turned back around to face Armando. “Looks like you get to live a bit longer. We’ve gotta bounce.” The last sentence was directed to his partner, who hadn’t said a word in the last five minutes.

She made sure to shoot one last disgusted look at him before following behind her partner and slamming the door behind her. He distinctly heard the lock for the door be secured into place before hearing them walk away. He let out a breath.

The darkness and silence were somewhat intimidating.

He didn’t know how long he’d been left alone. If he had to guess, the minimum amount of time would’ve been at least an hour or so.

As much as he wanted to make the most of it, there wasn’t much he could do. Of course, he could realistically break the wooden chair he was sitting in by slamming it into the ground, and enough force it would definitely crack. But what was he supposed to do afterward? The door was sealed tight, he still had his restraints on and he didn’t know how many people were guarding wherever he was being held at.

Damn.

He wasn’t left with his thoughts for too long though. The door in front of him creaked open much sooner than he thought it would.

He furrowed his eyebrows. A woman walked in slowly, closing the door behind her. It wasn’t the women from before though, and if he hadn’t been in the situation he was currently in, he’d have to admit that she was stunning.

He heard her take a deep breath before letting it out in a dramatic sigh. She walked over slowly, reaching for something in her pocket. Was she going to torture him for information? Shit…

Imagine his surprise when she pulled out a sleek switchblade, but instead of cutting him, she slipped behind him and swiftly cut the ropes binding his limbs together until he suddenly felt strength regaining in his wrists. He wiped his head around in confusion and caution. Is this a trap?

She looked like she was studying him before she let out another sigh, and muttered, “Damn idiots… The wrong fucking person…”

Wrong person?

The wrong damn person?

…

Low key not happy with the way this turned out since it took me damn near 2-3 moths to finally post it but I figured I should get something out there..

TAGLIST!

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15 @believeinthefireflies95 @lxla04 @planetnique @arinotarianagrande @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @hotwomanlythings @themainacc

#armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #armando aretas x you #bad boys #bad boys ride or die #kimarii 00 #armando aretas fan fiction #bad boys ride or die x reader #bad boys x reader

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thebessthingathisparty · 3 days ago

Text

With A Little Help From My Friends ⋆⁺₊❅.

Carlos Sainz ༘ ⋆｡⚠︎ ˚

⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅.⋆⁺₊❅.

Formula 1 college hockey team social media AU! Instagram Edition

The tight-knit college hockey team, the Silver Blades, run by team captain Max Verstappen, isn't just about scoring goals—it's a chosen family. On and off the ice, the team has each other's backs, whether that's through college assignments, throwing awesome parties, or winning the championship together. Follow these overworked, tired, college students as they post through their day-to-day life.

Authors Note: I won't lie guys.... I've had this made for like a week now, I've just been way too lazy to make all the captions and school just started (😭😭😭😭), but here is a Monday treat cause I found time to post

⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅.⋆⁺₊❅.

CarlosSainz

⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆⁺₊❅.⋆⁺₊❅.

liked by ChargingSarge, MaxVerstappen, and others

CarlosSainz Ay dios mio

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LandoNorris4 what disrupts you, my sweet Carlitos

DanielRicciardo You've got serious issues mate :/ (liked by CarlosSainz)

CarlosSainz I am very tired from practice and have a mid-term tomorrow but I have to go to this party :( (liked by LandoNorris4)

CharLeclerc I mean you really don't have to go

OscarJP Literally nobody is forcing you to go this party

LandoNorris4 ugh 🥺😭 you're so strong (liked by CarlosSainz)

MaxVerstappen Great playing today, I just want to talk some more about other defensemen strategies if you're free after studying (liked by CarlosSainz)

RandomFan Can't wait to see you play more this season!!!! Talk about underrated (liked by CarlosSainz)

Franco43Colapinto that is what happens when you stay up until the wee hours haciéndolo con alguna chica

CarlosSainz AY

Franco43Colapinto cómo esperas que duerma? 😑

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CarlosSainz No need to ask

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LandoNorris4 HES A SMOOTH OPERATOR SMOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTHHHH OPERATTOORRRRRRRRRRRR (liked by CarlosSainz)

CarlosSainz Si gracias Lando

CharLeclerc For a second I thought this was my car you were posting with, but then I realized I was being silly that could never be my car 😂

CarlosSainz I always think its so funny we both have red cars, what are the coincidences 😂😂😂

CarlosSainz Wait what

LewHamilton I feel like red is really your color man (liked by CarlosSainz)

CarlosSainz Thanks Cabrón

AlexandraSaint glad to see the shopping me and @ItsYourname did for you was actually to your standard this time

ItsYourname made it on the instagram post and everything 🤩

CarlosSainz They buy you a sweater and you sell it one time. 😒

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CarlosSainz Note to self when you have a big exam to study for, don't let your friends tag along.

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LandoNorris4 HEY! i read your flashcards for you and everything!!!!

CarlosSainz Cabrón you kept having to ask me how to pronounce the words

LandoNorris4 ohmygod sorry i'm not PERFECT CARLOS bring someone else next time 🙄 (liked by CarlosSainz)

GeorgeRus I for a fact was studying. ☝️ Until Alex started coloring on me mid-way through his assignment. Cause that's what Animal Science majors do, color.

LandoNorris4 "erm....actually" 🤓☝️ (liked by CarlosSainz and Albono)

Albono I was labeling and coloring in animal ligaments you supercilious peacock LandoNorris4 BAAAAAHAAHA 🫵🫵🫵 HAHAHAHH 😭😭😭😭HAHAHAA 🦚

OscarJP So what score did you end up getting?

CarlosSainz 93

OscarJP Oh fuck off (liked by CarlosSainz)

RandomClassmate I think i started to cry during the test. (liked by CarlosSainz)

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CarlosSainz I know him! The one in the air!!

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Franco43Colapinto short people estoy en lo cierto? also how does lando manage to comment first everytime???

LandoNorris4 ita the only realtionship i can keep up with (liked by CarlosSainz)

GeorgeRus It's funny because I actually personally hide the fact that I know Lando.

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MaxVerstappen Who would have ever thought a freshman would beat me in a beer-drinking competition 😕

ChargingSarge I'm a sophmore????

MaxVerstappen Are you really? (liked by CarlosSainz)

YukiTsunoda22 WOOOOO BEER PONG CHAMPSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!! (liked by CarlosSainz)

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pinkslipxox · 3 months ago

Note

Hi love!

Can I request college roommate fuck girl Miko 😫 but in the end she and reader wind up dating

Yes of course my love! Hope you like it 💞

I Hope It’s Us In The End:

Summary: College fuck girl roommate Miko asks you out on a date

Warnings: Miko being cocky, fluff 🥰🙈

*i know I said it was going to be posted tomorrow but I got excited haha*

——————————————————————————

“Hey, roomie,” your roommate purrs as you step into the small dorm room. As you turn your back to close the door, you can just picture her pink lips curled up in a smirk.

“Hey,” you say nonchalantly as you move to your bed without so much as looking up at her.

“Are you going to be here long? I have a friend coming over any minute,” she says after a beat of silence, making you roll your eyes.

Miko has friends— lots of them. It’s what her reputation has been built on the moment she’s step foot at school. You’ve heard rumors about her in your classes. Following the advice of your friends, you’ve kept your distance from her. That is, until, she became your roommate. That was the last thing you wanted.

Yet here you two are.

“Don’t mind me.” You shrug your shoulders, still refusing to look at her. “I’m sure everyone in this floor can hear you, anyway.”

“Damn! Alguien se despertó y eligió violencia hoy,” Miko murmurs, yet her tone doesn’t carry the slightest of offense. It’s playful and cocky. Like always.

“Who is it this time? Lisa? Alejandra? Daniela?” you list off the only names you can remember of the girls Miko has been with.

“This one’s new. Her name is Valeria.” She then pauses. “No, espera… I think her name’s Camila, actually.”

“You can’t even remember her name,” you laugh humorlessly. Then, finally, you look up at her. “I bet you can’t even go on one proper date without having sex.”

Miko raises her eyebrows. Her eyes are glowing with amusement. At the sametime, you can see a hint of determination in them.

“You want to bet?” Miko smirks, crossing her arms.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

In a blink of an eye, Miko is sitting on the edge of your bed. She keeps a respectful distance between the two of you. And for the fire time since you’ve known each other, you realize just how beautiful she is. Her icy blonde hair cascading over the shoulders, sparkling blue eyes that resemble that of the shimmering sea, and her flawless complexion. Her tattoos and piercings give her a rather intimating look in contrast to her bold, flirtatious personality that seems to make every girl in your school fall in love with her.

Even a few guys.

But she’s into girls.

“How about I take you out tonight, and I’ll prove to you that I know how to behave,” she says with a serious tone yet her playfulness still lingering.

“No,” you deadpan.

“Ay, nena, por favor.” Miko pouts. “Just one little date with me. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

“I have homework,” you say with a huff.

“So? You can do it after our date,” Miko smirks again.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” you sigh, defeated.

“Nope,” Miko replies, popping the ‘p’ with her lips.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go out with you,” you give in and Miko smiles. And you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her genuinely smile. Not smirk like she usually does. It lights up her face, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, it makes her look even more beautiful.

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at six,” she says and makes her way to the door.

“Where are you going?” you ask, confused.

“To get ready for our date,” Miko replies as if she is stating the obvious.

“But what about Camila?” you scoff, and Miko just shrugs nonchalantly.

“Nos vemos pronto, Y/N,” she says and she blows you a kiss before exiting the dorm.

It takes you a minute to process what had just happened before you realize that you have exactly two hours to get ready. You take a shower, run a razor over your legs, pick out an outfit and do your makeup. Your nerves getting the best of you as time goes by. By the time you’re ready, it’s five minutes until six o’clock. And you’re sitting on your bed, your leg bouncing up and down, as you wait for Miko to come.

At exactly six o’clock there is a knock on your door.

You practically jump off your bed and open it. Leaning in front of the doorway is Miko with a rose in her mouth. She is dressed in a white crop top that contrasts perfectly with the solid black ink of her tattooed arms and black trousers that hang low on her hips. And worn over her hair, with a couple loose strands left out, is a printed bandana. Her lips are a shimmering coral color and her cheeks are lightly dusted with blush. She wags her eyebrows up and down and you do everything in your power to keep yourself from laughing.

Miko takes the flower out of her mouth and hands it to you with a smile. “Te vez hermosa, Y/N.”

“Thank you. So do you,” you admit as you accept her gift. It’s such a sweet gesture that it makes you wonder if it is really Miko— your boisterous and carefree roommate— standing in front of you, and not a clone.

“Ready for our date?” she asks and you nod.

“Just what do you have planned tonight, Miko?” you muse as you can’t help the smile that slowly spreads on your lips.

She chuckles softly. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

***

It has now been a year since Miko has taken you out on that fateful date. You discovered a different side of Miko that night. A side that you never thought you’d see. Beneath all her tattoos, piercings, and pass those smirking lips, Miko was actually a very sweet girl. Misunderstood, better said. And that’s what made you end up going on a second date with her the day after your first one together.

You glance at the clock for what it feels like for the hundredth time, and you inwardly breathe a sigh of relief when you see that it is time. Quietly, you exit the classroom and venture down the hallway. It is empty and quite, save for the soft sound of your footsteps hitting against the floor. As you get closer to the bathroom, my heart beats faster with excitement and anticipation. Just as I turn the corner, you catch a glimpse of familiar red hair as the bathroom door closes. And your heart skips a beat.

A chill of cool air hits you as you enter the bathroom. You spy her white sneakers from outside the stall. You knock on the door and it opens. A smile instantly spreads on your face the moment you see her. Miko— your girlfriend.

Her smile mirrors your own and she gently pulls you inside the stall with her. She locks it closed and wraps her tattooed arms around you, your head resting perfectly against her chest and her chin on top of her head. The two of you stay like this, in comfortable silence and enjoying each other’s company, until the both of you break the hug.

“Feliz aniversario, mi nena bonita,” she says as she reaches into her back pocket. “I hope you like it.”

You gasp in shock and delight at the beautiful heart shaped necklace on her palm. Tears begin to swell in your eyes.

“Miko, it’s beautiful,” you murmur, biting your lower lip.

“Take it. Read what it says inside,” she says softly and you do so.

Ever so careful, you open it. Inside the heart, it reads, “I hope it’s us in the end”. The tears begin to roll down your face as you look at your girlfriend with love and adoration. Gently, Miko turns you around and puts it on you. She then turns you back around, brings her hand up to your lips and kisses it, her brilliant blue eyes looking into yours as she does so.

“I love you, Y/N,” Miko says sincerely as she brings you closer, her hands on your hips, and gently presses her forehead against yours.

“I love you, too, María Victoria,” you murmur softly as she cups your cheek. The pad of her thumb wipes the lingering tear away and you melt in her touch.

Then, ever so gently, Miko presses your lips against hers. It’s soft, tender, yet passionate and it makes you feel all the love Miko has for you in it. She is the puzzle piece that you never realized you had missing, and you are the calming influence that she’s been secretly trying to find her whole life. You two are completely different in every way, but that’s what makes you complete each other perfectly.

And nothing could ever tear you two apart.

#young miko #young miko x fem!reader #young miko x y/n #young miko blurb #young miko fluff #young miko x reader #young miko fic #young miko imagine #young miko x you #young miko fanfiction

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sw-33-ts-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

Home (Camila Montes X Reader)

“Get Out!”

You were tossed on the small lawn in front of your house, your father standing above you seething and throwing a suitcase next to you clothes scattered everywhere.

“Where am I supposed to go?”

A car slowly came to a stop as a familiar face from school peaked at you.

Your tears were endless as you looked to your mom for help. She simply shook her head stepping back into the house, before she came back out your journal clutched tight in her hands. You glanced at the book and her, eyes widening in mortification at what she could’ve read. Your deepest thoughts were laid bare in that book: every good day, bad day, significant event, such as you realizing your crush on your long time best friend and many others to follow. You wondered why you’d get so upset when they’d discussed their crushes on boys or when they’d talk about first kisses.

“Mom..” you spoke shakily a hand raised and before you knew it that same hand smacked you. Leaving behind a sharp sting. Her eyes were watering as if she were the one in pain.

“We won’t have you in our house with these disgusting thoughts.”

She tossed the book at you and went back inside her husband following. You sniffled calmly picking up your clothes and throwing them in your suitcase.

“Mija que esta sucediendo?”

“Espera mama.”

Platform boots came into your line of vision and you found yourself looking up into the brown eyes of your classmate.

Camila Montes was notorious for her explosive attitude.

She’d sent a boy to the hospital just because he was staring at her on her first day.

To see her standing before you at the moment worried you. According to most that knew her, (not any friends she didn’t do friends) she was a “cold hearted bitch”.

“You good?”

You gulp trying to fight back more tears as you nod beginning to scramble quickly when you hear another noise come from your home. No, not your home anymore your mother and father made sure the whole neighborhood knew this.

Camilas dark eyes glanced to the house, her car and then you. Her mother watching with interest as she knew her daughter had a tendency to keep to herself. She felt a smile form when she watched as the teenager helped pick up your clothes.

“What happened?” Her voice was gruff as if she were trying not to yell.

“I uh..” you took a deep breath. “I just got kicked out of my house.”

The girls eyebrows furrowed she knew better than to ask anything else, everyone had seen exactly what happened. She picked up the suitcase and tilted her head towards her car.

“Come on.” You stood quickly confused as she took your suitcase to her car placing it in the back seat. You sat down quietly as the older woman began to speak.

“Quien es?”

“Y/n mami”

Camilas eyes shift to yours through the rear view mirror. You sat quietly confused as to why she was telling your mother your name and how she knew it.

“Ella necesita un lugar para quedarse”

Before you knew it, you were bought to a small house Camila going around to assist her mother. You stood by the car unsure of what to do making the girl roll her eyes.

“Come on I already have my hands full, I don’t have time to hold yours.”

You follow and help her get her mom sat down on the sofa in the living room.

“Gracias Nina linda.” She patted your cheek eyes closing as she went to put her head back and rest a moment.

“She said thank you pretty girl.”

You jump forgetting she was there with you.

“You can put your stuff in my room, and sleep on the futon,” she turned abruptly looking up to you slightly finger raised.

“But don’t touch my shit you’re not special.”

You nod following and placing your suitcase to the side. You went to take a shower.

Camila waited until she was sure you were in the bathroom to snoop through your wallet she’d opened it to find your ID, a few bills, and a small picture of an older woman with a young girl sitting on her lap. She looked closer at the date squinting before she looked at her phone.

When she heard the shower shut off she put everything back where it was and went to tend to her mother.

“Mami?” Her mom snored from her spot making the girl smile a bit, she kissed her forehead placing the blanket over her.

After you showered and gotten dressed you followed the path to the kitchen smelling food. You were surprised to find Camila standing by a few containers of food and a small box.

“They didn’t have a lot of options since it’s late but..” painted nails pulled back the lid and revealed a small cake. You looked to the girl surprised.

“How did you-“ She scoffed.

“You’re seriously gonna ask questions right now?” You gulp nodding and sit down the both of you eating in comfortable silence. Camilas mom walking in with a cane.

“Mami-“ the older woman cut her off with a wave of her hand before she lit a candle and placed it on the cake as she began to sing

“Cumpleanos Feliz”

You’d been at Camilas for a few months. Her mother adored you and was determined to teach you Spanish, Camila herself was a lot nicer than she was at school. Still stoic most times but she was helpful and considerate without thought. She had gotten you a job at the bodega and helped make the futon more comfortable, it almost felt like home.

Her mother would sometimes speak a lot faster in Spanish whenever Camila was around smirking each time her daughter would dismiss her or change the subject.

“What Camila it’s true are you really going to defend that Fag-“ the sound of a body being slammed to the lockers.

“If I were you I’d shut the fuck up.” You ran to see a crowd forming in the hallway, Camila holding your old “friend” Gabby against the locker. You cautiously walked up placing a hand on Camilas shoulder.

“Camila come on I don’t want you to get in trouble.” The other girl laughed.

“Is that why you’re defending her?” She turned her head to you. “News flash Camilas just a hopped up slut who’ll-“

Everyone gasped at the sound of a punch being landed but it wasn’t Camilas hand it was your.

“Oh shit.” You whimpered shaking your hand. You didn’t mean to punch her but you didn’t like how she was talking to Camila, she wasn’t a slut she was nice and took you in when you needed help without question.

You were in the nurses office getting your hand wrapped as Camila sat nearby. Luckily Gabby was also 18 and there were witnesses that stated she instigated the fight, the principal decided detention after school would be the best punishment for you.

Camila stood up to look at your hand. Her dark eye liner making her brown eyes even deeper somehow.

“I could’ve handled it.”

You shrug.

“You’re not a slut, even if you sleep with everyone in town that’s your business.”

“I haven’t, that rumor started because I was stupid enough to sleep with ONE guy after I broke up with my girlfriend.” You nod.

“Kind of makes me feel better not liking men.” You joke weakly. The girl smiles slightly at you nudging your shoulder.

“I’ll see you later yeah?”

You got back to Camilas late, her mom on the couch watching some new telenovela.

Camila already filled her in that you’d be late.

“Tu comida esta en la estufa.”

“Gracias senora Montes.” She smiled happy you were learning but quickly frowned.

“Solo llamame mama o mami por favor.” Your eyebrows furrowed you knew parts of what she said but not all of it.

“SHE SAID CALL HER MAMI OR MAMA!” You nod.

“Mama.” She smiles patting your cheek and shooing you to the kitchen.

Camila sat at the table eating a plate already ready in front of her.

“Thank you.” You said softly sitting across from her.

“QUE?!” Her mom yelled. You both laugh.

“Gracias Camila.” Her mom cheered going back to her show as the two of you ate in silence.

It was late for some reason and you couldn’t sleep.

And apparently neither could Camila.

“Y/n?” She whispered.

“Yeah?” A soft hand grabbed yours making you sit up as you were dragged to her room.

She shut the door behind you gesturing towards her bed.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” She shook her head one of her hands inching towards yours.

Your eyes scanned her head to toe. Her usual make up gone nothing but freckles and fair skin covered by a giant t-shirt.

Her hand slowly made its way to your shoulder making you shiver.

Dark eyes searched yours before leaning in.

“GET DOWN!”

“Y/N!” There was glass everywhere a sharp sensation on the back of your skull.

“Y/N!” You struggled against the strong body against you as you watched Camila kick and scream. Her mothers voice also ringing out in the distance.

“So I either go to the nursing home or go to jail for being an accomplice to an accomplice to an “illegal” immigrant?”

You tilted your head at the lawyer who hummed.

“I know it’s hard but if you cooperate you’ll free not only Camila but her mother as well.” You bit your lip looking at the pamphlet. You owed them everything, working with the elderly was the least you could do.

“Ok I’ll do it.”

After a series of questions and a long drive in a school bus, you’d finally made it to the nursing home. Next to you a curly haired girl with glasses.

“I’m Lily.” She whispered.

“Y/n.” You whispered back offering a small smile, it dropping as a man in the corner looks to you intently. “Is it just me or is that guy staring?”

Lily subtly looks around the room before her eyes land on James. “No girl he’s staring at you real hard, be careful.”

You nod.

It feels almost like prison with how the cycle works. You eat, work, sleep and repeat. For some reason you’re the only one who can remember going to bed and what day it is. The other three besides Lily really don’t talk much. James seems to be nice though always having you help with simpler tasks and even bringing you things that only the staff have access to.

You try to take comfort in seeing some kindness here but you find yourself constantly missing a certain brunette wondering if she’s ok and if she was going to do what you thought she was that night in her room. You look to see Lily being taken somewhere and go to follow only to be stopped once again by James.

“You should get back to the garden, the new groups coming in and we need the hall cleared for the tour.” You nod as he puts his arm around your shoulder leading you away.

Camila steps off the bus and into the building eyes scowling at everything in sight until they widen at the sight of familiar hair.

“Y/n?” She goes to walk towards you but is quickly stopped by another guard. He points back to the group and moves them further into the hall.

It’s when you get to the garden and look around you see none of your group with you. Shyly you ask James if he knew anything of this but the man just redirects your attention to another task at hand. It’s when his walkie talkie goes off that there’s an issue in the cafeteria that runs him off. You looked down seeing a flash of silver smiling, you make sure no one notices by pretending to tie your shoe.

It’s late, it smells weird and Camilas pretty sure some of the old people next door are getting freaky either that or dying, she rolls her eyes to herself. She can’t sleep as she thinks of you and her mother, praying you’re both safe. The group she came with, misfits at best, weren’t horrible. Micah seemed decent she supposed, JP obviously having the biggest hard on for her, Chris was a pussy and Big Mac was just an idiot, an entertaining idiot but still an idiot.

A quiet knock shook her from her thoughts and she almost stayed in her bed until she heard it again. She got up to toeing to the door swinging it open.

“Y/n?” A small smile makes it way to your face as you look at her in the shorts and tank top provided by the facility.

“Cam-“ your relief was short lived as your dragged into the room. You’re pulled into the room abruptly by the collar of your shirt.

“What are you doing here?” You both ask at the same time.

You laugh softly. “They told me if I cooperated that they’d let you and your mom go.”

She scowled crossing her arms. “They told me the same thing.”

“I’m glad you’re ok though.” The shorter girls eyes softened as she uncrossed her arms. “I was worried about you.”

Dark brown eyes continued to stare at you and you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.

“How’d you find me?”

“Would you believe me if I said I went knocking on every door down this hallway?” Camila continued to stare at you as you rubbed the back of your neck.

She stepped closer to you. “So you turned yourself in for a girl you met a few months ago, risked getting caught sneaking around to find her in the same place not knowing what might happen after?”

You flush a bit. “Well when you say it like that it sounds crazy.”

She deadpans. “It is.”

You laugh. Damn I missed her. A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. Those same brown eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips then back again. Unconsciously, you both lean in, you dipping slightly to help her reach. Soft plush lips press to yours softly at first before they grow in intensity. Short black fingernails dig into your shoulders as you place yours around her waist, hands grazing the exposed skin eliciting a soft moan. You feel yourself stumble as you’re pulled more towards the bed, Camilas hand reaching back until she feels the soft surface.

She turns pushing you on the bed aggressively. The mattress spring making you bounce a bit. She wastes no time climbing on your lap as you sit up, hands greedy to feel more of her as they travel up her back. Hers tugging your hair as your lips slide against one another. It’s when her tongue licks your lips begging for entry that your breath hitches. You both groan when there’s another knock on her door she signals for you to stay as she goes to answer.

JP stands at the door smile on his face as he wiggles his keys.

“Employee swim?”

Camila tilts her head. “Didn’t take you for the bad boy type…” she pauses “I wonder why or should I say who?” She quirks an eyebrow.

The boy sputters.

“I’m just kidding bro, I get it. She’s hot if she were into girls I’d hit that.”

You felt yourself slowly start to stand up. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea you winced.

“Then again maybe I could change her mind.”

Definitely a bad idea. You look around to see if there’s another way out of her room but sigh when you see it’s only the door you sit at the desk and wait.

You hear more laughter before the door closes. You stand as Camila makes her way back to the bed.

“So where-“

“I think I should go.” Her eyebrows furrow.

“Wait what I thought-“ You quickly make your way to the door.

“Yeah I’m tired anyway but it was good seeing you.” The door slams shut making Camila huff.

What the fuck just happened?

As you make your way back you see Micah following JP and Big Mac to the pool. Your eyes widen as you realize you haven’t seen your group in a week and Micah is the last person you spoke with. You quickly turn back to Camilas room knocking urgently. She opens the door glaring.

“What? You gonna throw mixed signals again?”

“Shut up and listen. Everyone in my groups disappeared, everyone except me and Micah.”

“…Micah came with us.”

“Exactly somethings wrong here, Lily and I would stay close but one day she asked a question and I just haven’t seen her. I thought maybe they were just keeping us separate but-“

“Y/N! Relax it’s an old folks home you’re just being paranoid what if Micah has family too and they just look alike?”

“With the same name?”

The girl shrugs. “I think you’re looking too deep into it.”

You scoff. “Fuck it, good luck with the white girl I hope you get to “hit that”.”

You slam the door once more putting the keys in your drawer after getting to your room the ankle bracelet secured the minute you crossed the threshold.

Camila lays down agitated. At you, at this place, and especially at JP for interrupting. All because he wanted to impress Micah.

It’s in the garden when they find a mark on Camilas neck.

“What’s that?”

“Hey watch it creep!” JP rolls his eyes before Big Mac helps.

“There’s something on your neck girl.”

“Something weirds going on.” JP catches sight of something familiar.

“Hey Greta, you know my sister loved making those too..” the woman begins to freak out making James and another staff member step in pushing aside JP who clutches the forgotten cootie catcher between his fingers. Big Mac appearing next to him.

“Yeah definitely something weird.”

Camila looks around the garden, the pool, and the cafeteria before she finds you in the common area helping someone play bingo.

“Y/N!” You spin to her in surprise eyes going over her to make sure she’s ok before going back to the task at hand.

“What camila?” She sits next to you attempting to control her breathing.

“You we’re right somethings going on and-“

“Great I was right!” You smile sarcastically. “You can go now.” The girl stares at you incredulous.

“We have to get out of here-“ she whispers urgently.

“So now you want to listen to me.” You scoff. “Look Camila I did this for you and your mom I can’t go, I have nowhere else I belong.”

You lower your voice to whisper. “The ankle monitor key is in my drawer room 10. Take it and run.”

You sit back up with a smile and return to stamping bingo slots for the man next to you.

Camila stared for a moment. “Y/n-“

James appeared next to placing a strong hand on your shoulder.

“Everything ok here y/n?” You nod and smile politely.

“Yeah James I was just telling Camila they could use more hands in the cafeteria.” He smiles back at you before sneering at Camila.

“Well?” She gets up huffing.

A weird bird sound hits your ears before a big man drops from the ceiling.

“You y/n?”

You nod eyes widening as he shows the key you only told Camila about. “Camila said I can only trust you.”

“Where is she?” You sit up.

“I cant find her or JP.”

“Ok we need a plan.”

“Right. But first things first….you single?”

James laid unconscious on the floor by your feet as you snuck further into a testing lab. A quiet whisper yell filling the room.

“Camila?”

“Camila!” A small groan responds you find her strapped to a bed next to the nice elderly woman Greta. The longer you’d stare at her the more familiar she’d look.

“Y/n?” You turned back to the small girl clutching her had and looking over her features they hadn’t gotten to her yet. You tugged off the restraints as she went to help the girl.

“Lily you have to wake up.”

Lily? You looked again feeling your eyes widen, the boy was her brother JP. You almost smacked your forehead not realizing you should’ve made the connection sooner.

“What a shame.” James limped towards you. “I really did like you Y/n, we still have a chance to make this right between us.”

You yelled running towards him trying to tackle him he hit you in the back making you fall to the floor in a heap. He went to inject you with a needle when Camila jumped on his back. Lily in a wheelchair looking for a nearby weapon. She tossed you a bed pan as you got back up. James throwing Camila off him, when he turned you smacked him across the face with the metal.

“We gotta go.”

The doors opened revealing Big Mac and a giant group of old people.

“LETS GO!”

You, Lily and Camila went to find JP and Big Mac distracted the guards and find an exit. You all stopped when you’d seen him tied to a chair being circled by Micah and Eddie (the founder of the nursing home). Around you were meat grinders and body bags, you felt yourself grow nauseous as you realized what was actually being put into the meat.

“And this is why I’m a vegan.” You gave a dirty glare to Camila as you tried to find a way to help JP. She shook her head at herself. “You stay with Lily I’ll help JP.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes! FUCK Camila why can’t you just-“

Soft lips pushed into yours once more before the girl took off towards Eddie, you followed after when you saw Micah reaching for her. Lily slowly rolling to get JPs ropes loose.

Eddie had tossed Camila aside breaking your concentration. Micah took advantage and tased you. She knelt by you a small sadistic smirk on her face.

“You were right Camila is cute too bad you won’t live to ask her out.”

A body slammed into her pushing her onto the meat grinder. As she went to get up her hair got caught on the belt.

“EDDIE!” The man in question was in no better predicament. Lily not only released her brother but a pent up Chris who was sitting in a cage ready to be the next burger for Dennys. Chris slammed himself and Eddie onto the belt wrapping his legs around him and holding him still as he ripped out his throat. The sound of the trios bones and flesh permeating the factory.

You walked over to Camila who was grabbing her side.

“You good?” The angry teen gave you a grin as she pulled you into her for another kiss. it took a moment before you finally responded but once again got interrupted by JP.

“Not to cockblock but we should probably get out of the old people meat kitchen.”

You both nod exiting the facility and meeting up with Big Mac.

“MAMA WE MADE IT!”

You look down to Camila who shakes her head at him. You dip down to place a kiss in her cheek making the girl smile and look up at you.

“Let’s go home mi amor.”

“Oh shit y’all lesbians?”

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wlw post #camila montes #camila montes x reader #camila montes imagine #american carnage #camila montes x female reader

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carsthatnevermadeitetc · 5 months ago

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Citroën Cruise Crosser Concept, 2007, by Sbarro. Developed by Citroën in partnership with Espera Sbarro Design School, an all-terrain crew-cab concept pick-up with hybrid drive. While the front wheels are driven by a conventional Diesel engine the rear axles are electrically powered to provide 6x6 drive. The Cruise Crosser invokes the spirit of the early 1900s when André Citroën, the company's founder, captivated the world with a series of adventurous automotive expeditions across Africa and Asia, including the first motorised crossing of the Sahara in 1922.

#Citroën #Citroën Cruise Crosser #concept #Sbarro #Espera Sbarro Design School #prototype #ATV #all terrain vehicle #6X6 #hybrid drive #design study #2007

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nenelonomh · 5 months ago

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study august twentieth: ◻ spanish verb conjugations - hablar ◻ finished business management script for my pitch ◻ worked on business management revision paper ◻ sehs revision (creating flashcards)

today was so busy! i'm so grateful for my ability to readjust and be flexible when things don't go to plan.

i went to school, and then to training afterwards. we did a circuit hiit session - i ended up vomiting due to the difficulty. i survived though! and i have more training tomorrow.

when i left training, it began to pour down with rain. i ended up wet and cold, but i still had to ride the train home. i only got home around five pm, so i was unable to collect my on-hold books from the library. i was still able to buy birthday gifts for my friends lana, ryan (both of them have their birthday tomorrow), and myke (hers is on the twenty-fifth).

tomorrow i will go to a morning training session and have a study date with some of my other friends in the afternoon.

image source: pinterest

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

estudio del viente de agosto: ◻ conjugaciones verbales en español - hablar ◻ guión de gestión empresarial terminado para mi presentación ◻ trabajado en la revisión de la gestión empresarial revisión ◻ de sehs (creación de tarjetas didácticas)

¡hoy estaba tan ocupado! estoy muy agradecida por mi capacidad de reajustarme y ser flexible cuando las cosas no van según lo planeado. fui a la escuela, y luego a entrenar. hicimos una sesión de circuito hiit - terminé vomitando debido a la dificultad. ¡sobreviví sin embargo! y mañana tengo más entrenamiento.

cuando dejé el entrenamiento, comenzó a derramarse con lluvia. terminé húmedo y frío, pero aún así tuve que viajar en tren a casa. solo llegué a casa alrededor de las cinco de la tarde, así que no pude recoger mis libros en espera de la biblioteca. todavía pude comprar regalos de cumpleaños para mis amigos lana, ryan (ambos tienen su cumpleaños mañana), y myke (la suya está en día veinticinco quinto).

mañana iré a una sesión de entrenamiento por la mañana y tendré una cita de estudio con algunos de mis otros amigos por la tarde. fuente de la imagen: pinterest

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hobiebrownismygod · 1 year ago

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Miles-42 x Gwen-42; First Look

Mini-fanfic

Synopsis: Miles G. meets Gwen-42 for the first time, Fluff

____________________________________________________________

"Miles, we gotta go!"

Rio's voice could be heard booming from the downstairs kitchen area, slightly raised as she called him for the third time that morning. Miles cringed at his mother's tone and threw his sketchbook into his bag before opening his bedroom door and quickly climbing down the stairs. "I'm coming, Mami."

It was his first day of sophomore year, and his introduction to a completely new environment. Brooklyn Visions Academy, a prestigious private school which Miles had somehow gained admissions to only halfway through the summer. He hadn't wanted to go to this "rich-kid" school, as he called it, but his Dad had wanted him to go, and well...he didn't want to let him down.

Miles gave his mom a sheepish grin before shoveling his mouth full of cereal and grabbing his computer, placing it in his already stuffed backpack before walking out the door. "Espera, dame un beso antes de que te vayas, mijo!" (Wait, give me a kiss before you leave, mijo) Miles rolled his eyes and groaned as his mom pulled him in to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Be good."

"Yes, Mami."

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in front of the entrance to Brooklyn Visions Academy, watching as other students walked in, laughing, talking, messing around. He couldn't help but stare at them with a solemn expression on his face. He already missed his friends. He shook the feeling off and walked straight through the entrance, staring straight ahead and trying not to make eye contact with anyone, in fear of being noticed.

Suddenly, he felt someone bump into him from the back. He stumbled forward slightly before turning around, ready to chew out whoever did that, an annoyed look on his face.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that!"

Long blonde hair pulled back into a braid, bright blue eyes the color of the sky, light pink lips pursed into a half-frown. Miles caught himself staring. "I'm Mil-" his voice cracked. Shit. He cleared his throat quickly, leaning down to pick up the book she'd dropped. "I'm Miles."

She smiled at him, taking the book from him and extending a friendly hand out to him.

"Gwen. Gwen Stacy."

Part 2:

Miles-42 x Gwen-42: Silent Sketches

Note: Let me know if you guys liked it or if I should write more! I'm thinking of making a series about this, and there'll probably be multiple parts <3

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losientojournals · 3 months ago

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mother dearest by grace sofia

TW: rape, pregnancy, adult themes

Disclaimer: I own this piece and the rights to it. It's not to be published anywhere else without my knowledge and consent.

2018, December.

Dear Bean,

You’re a few months away, and I don’t know how I should feel about you. I don’t know how I do feel about you. I’m excited to know you, to know this part of me that will exist outside of me. Another part of me hates you for what you represent. I was supposed to be living up my freshman year of college to the absolute fullest, like I had planned to. I should be with my friends at clubs and dancing the night away, not nesting. I should be posting bikini pics with my girls on a yacht in Europe, not fitting maternity clothes. I guess that isn’t your fault though.

Things have changed since you, Bean, and I’m trying to change too. I want to be enough to make you a good person, a great person with a life that exceeds all of my expectations. Still, my heart aches at what my life could have been.

Anyway, I’ll see you in a few months Bean. Maybe you’ll be exactly what I need.

-Mother

It was June 2019 when I gave birth to my daughter, Espera. I was a single mother just barely getting by and trying to successfully graduate from undergrad. At the time, I knew nothing about raising a baby, I still was one in my mother’s eyes.

My mother was the real reason I kept Espera. She told me a story of a time when I was a kid, and had just started school. It had been a new change for both of us, her having just left my father, and me having just left my dad. Now we had to go through another change, being apart all day long. My mother said it had felt like a part of her heart was walking further and further away from her, attached by a string that pulled tighter and tighter. Perhaps that’s what I was hoping for with Espera.

Truth be told, I hated Espera. I liked her better as Bean when she was something to prepare for. I liked getting ready for her. Once she was real and only mine to take care of, any excitement I had fell away. Truthfully, she hated me too. I did everything in my power to soothe her for the first few weeks, but all she could do was cry. Her small hands creeped me out too. Mom said it was normal to struggle at first, being a mother didn’t come naturally to everyone. At some points, she even struggled with me.

Breastfeeding was the worst part. I didn’t want to do it, for the sake of avoiding connection with Espera, but I woke up every day with my boobs as hard as rocks. The only release was to pump or feed her directly. It didn’t matter though. She rarely latched and normally it wasn’t without struggle. So, I would pump and feed it to her from the bottle. I couldn’t always look at her while she ate. Something about her peaceful and relaxed face made my stomach quench and churn. She would scrunch up her nose and then release all the muscles in her face. Her eyes were always closed through this, but would eventually open to look up at me.

Postpartum Depression, the doctor said. Bullshit, I said. I never wanted a kid. I couldn’t go through with the procedure. My mother convinced me that even if I hate the beginning of our story together, the Bean was my blessing in disguise.

“You are everything to me,” my mother had said.

“But it’s his,” I sobbed into her arms.

“You were once just a man’s daughter too, I fell in love with you all on my own.” She explained softly, running a hand through my curls. “You know I didn’t have the easiest time with your father, he wasn’t a good person. He drank a lot, and got angry when it wasn’t necessary. But you? You were my light at the end of the tunnel. You gave me a reason to wake up every morning and work to get my life together. I know this is scary, I know this is hard, I know you had a worse start than anyone, but I want you to know I’ll be here for the rest of my life to help you through it.”

2019, July.

Dear Espera,

Here is the truth: I don’t like you very much. We started off rough and there’s a lot about being a parent I don’t enjoy. Still, I think you deserve a fair shot at a decent life, so I’m going to do my best.

You may never have a father, but you will always have me. That much I can promise you. And while I will never know how I’ll feel around you, I promise to hide it from you the best that I can. You are an innocent bystander to a horrible man’s actions, and I guess for that I feel bad.

-Mother

To try and beat this alleged postpartum depression, I took Espera on walks. I put her in a stroller that used to be mine, and I walked her all around the neighborhood that I grew up in. This was better than being home alone with her. I got to smell the flowers and enjoy the wind in my hair. In the evenings I made her concoctions in the kitchen. I didn’t start off as the best cook in the world. I used old recipes of my mother’s, stuff she’s handing down to me now that I have someone to give them to. Espera liked the walks too. She was quiet and observed things, and that gave me some peace.

The days that my mother came weren’t so bad. She’d take Espera from me and I could return to my life for a few hours. I caught up on reality TV and gossip magazines, things like that. In the evenings, I’d go out and take night classes while my mom watched Espera. My mom would text me pictures of her, but I learned to turn my phone off during class to settle the soft ache, the longing to understand her but the distance I’ve created, in my chest.

The late nights weren’t the best. I’d be alone with her and she was waking up every few hours to feed. By the time I was finally back in bed and nearly asleep, she’d wail again. It took her a while longer than most babies to sleep through the night too. No doctor could tell me why, and I tried to find an answer several times.

The early mornings were the absolute worst. I’d be tired from the restless night, and Espera would be crying from a full diaper. Being a parent was never-ending. All I wanted was to live my life, but now I had a responsibility that I had to provide for.

By month five, she was sleeping through the night.

By month six, she was crawling and I could no longer avoid baby-proofing my starter apartment that was originally meant to lead me through the first four years of college.

The first week of December, I decided to go all out for Christmas, for myself. I got a huge tree and put it myself. I got myself my favorite holiday color ornaments: Gold. I made myself hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream every day of December. I bought myself presents. I did my nails red glitter too, all by myself. I considered getting something for Espera, at my mother’s suggestion. It was her first Christmas, she had said, she should have some memories and sentimental things to hold onto. I decided to get her a purple teddy bear, my favorite color.

The end of the year into the New Year was hard. All of my friends had posted about their fun plans at parties or family getaways, while I stuck home alone with Espera. I couldn’t even drink because I was still pumping. So it was just me, Espera, and a noisemaker in my mouth. Just before the countdown began, she burst into tears. I sighed and let the noisemaker fall to the floor as I lifted her. All her bottles were dirty and in the dishwasher, so there wasn’t anything prepared. The only noise came from the news reporters yelling on the TV as I lifted my shirt for her to latch onto my breast. Now that she was older, she latched with more ease, but it still hurt me. I hissed the moment her mouth made contact with my nipple. Espera’s body relaxed as she ate from mine. For a moment, her actions distracted me. Here she was, my daughter, feeding from me because I allowed her to, because my body allowed her to. I can do what no man can do, and I do so because I chose to forgive her.

2020, January.

Dear Espera,

Things are complicated between us. We’re establishing a routine and it's creating a sense of normalcy. So much of me hates you, but so much of me wants to protect you too. I’ll admit something to you here. When I was pregnant I considered giving you up. I don’t know if I would have left you outside a fire station, or a hospital, put you up for adoption or found a family for your myself. All I do know is that I decided not to, not because I love you but because it’s up to me to see you through this. I made the choice to keep you, and I will follow through with that.

Truthfully, a part of me does love you. You are a piece of me living all on your own, surviving because I choose to feed you and take care of you. Another part of me resents what you mean in my life, the child of the man who raped me.

But I figured you deserved some answer one day, and this is me somehow putting to words what I went through. And besides there’s definitely going to be a day that you come looking for answers, you’ll ask about your dad, about where you come from, or why you don’t have a dad at all and I’ll have to explain it to you. Maybe I can give you this. Or maybe this can be where I write the ugly version before giving you the pretty one with the bow.

I was a virgin the night he raped me. I was at a college party, in some frat house, living my life as carefree as possible. I met a boy there, and I won’t lie to you, when he flirted with me I flirted back. It was the start of my freshman year (of college). I wanted to live my life and make memories.

So we danced and drank and smoked while the party raged around us. He was pretty and had dark brown hair and big hazel eyes with gold flecks in them. He looked like the kind of guy everyone knew and loved. The kind of guy you could feel safe around because he was cute. But what was almost scarier was that he looked like any other guy. Nothing particularly special about him, but still somehow sharp around the edges. For the most part, he was forgettable, but intisicing.

I didn’t know when it happened, but he slipped something into my drink. I felt it happening. I lost control over my senses and body. It started in my eyes, my blinks turned heavy and slow. Then my arms went, and the drink slipped right out of my hands and spilled all over the floor. Then my arms went, and the drink slipped right out of my hands and spilled all over the floor. Just as my legs started to wobble and I lost my balance, his arms slipped under the back of my knees and he lifted me off the ground.

To this day, I wonder why nobody stopped him. Why did no one think to ask where he was carrying me to? Where were my friends? I don't know where he took me, but I ended up in someone’s bed. I nearly fell asleep, in the comfort of this cloud I laid in. But I felt hands on the button of my jeans and fought to open my eyes.

The sight in front of me was blurry, I saw the sharp features of jaw and nose and cheekbones. I saw what happened more than I felt it. Until it started anyway. He shimmied my pants down and pushed my underwear aside. I pleaded quietly with him, hoping he’d take pity on me and let me go.

Tears welled in my eyes as I felt his fingers inside of me. His nails scratched at my walls and tears fell. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to lose myself in whatever he had given me. He grunted and moaned in my ear. As my slow tears turned to sobs, he took a pillow and stuffed it over my face. He didn’t pull out. He didn’t use a condom. He left me there, with my pants and underwear at my ankles. Blood was mixed with him inside of me, and was spilling onto the bed.

Because of that night other things have changed about me too. The rape kit I did the next day was probably just as traumatizing. I remember the way the nurses put the camera everywhere. With my legs spread they snapped a picture of my bruised and bloodied vagina. They took pictures of all the small bruises too, and listed any marks or scars that had been there previously. The cotton swabs were bad. They ran them under my nails, inside my mouth, and in other places too. Nothing was off limits.

I found out I was pregnant when I missed my period. I took a test on a joking whim, because there was no way it could happen, and it happened. Then, it became my worst nightmare. I had taken birth control at the hospital, but I guess it didn’t take. Figures I’d be in the small number of people that would happen to.

After everything went down I started seeing a therapist to help me come to terms with who you would be; my rapist’s kid. I didn’t want to blame you for what he did, and your grandmother convinced me to keep you. She said I’d regret it one day, missing out on raising you. Yes, you are and always have been a reminder of my worst nightmare, but I want you to be something more than that. I don’t want you to have all that ugly in your life.

-Mother

By month ten, she took her first steps. Her giggles were loud as she wobbled across the room from her play mat over to me where I laid on the couch. She froze a foot away from me and her knees buckled. Before I realized what I was doing, I launched myself off the couch and caught her just before she hit the ground. My heart beated out my chest, the weight of her life sitting on it.

A whisper went through the back of my mind. A suggestion, really. I considered it, chewed on it, and spat it back out. No good person does something like that, no good person give sup their kid without reason. Did I have a reason? Is being my rapist’s kid a good enough reason? Even after all this time? I don’t know and I wish I did, so I could do the right thing. At the very least, I can see her through. If she can’t even have two parents, the least she can have is me.

“It’s completely normal,” my mother had told me.

“No, it’s not, I’m a horrible person,” I whined.

“I thought about it,” my mother revealed to me, rendering me silent. “When I was pregnant with you, I was scared to raise you. I was only 22 and your father was a drunk who liked to hit me when he got angry. I wanted better for you than what I could offer at the time. So, I just gave you better, I got my real estate license and started selling homes while you spent the day with me at all my showings.”

On her third Valentine’s Day she cut a picture that resembled a heart for me. I kept it folded in an album to look through when she was older.

On her fourth birthday, all of her neighborhood and classroom friends were in attendance. She blew out her candle with a smile on her face, with everyone she loved there. Just as I took a picture, she turned to look at me as if I was somehow part of her wish.

On her fifth Christmas, she spent days drawing pictures of us holding hands. I hung them up on the fridge, but I rarely looked at them. Even now, I couldn’t tell you what colors she used.

We spent many of her first years like this, her taking steps towards me and me as I took steps back. It wasn’t until she was nine, at her dance recital, that she started to understand I would always keep her at arm’s length. I had gotten a work call and it ended up going over her final number.

I felt so ashamed. For lack of a better word. From that moment on, I decided to do better than my best for her. I scheduled more time together, so she felt supported. I worked grueling hours, so if she asked for something that she needed I could give it to her, and I put her in the best schools. I gave her every opportunity to flourish, and she did. She got straight A’s, was valedictorian, played softball, played the violin, and volunteered. It was simple, really: I provided, and she grew into a person any normal parent would be proud of. A part of me was proud because it was my hard work that allowed her to be this person. It was my sweat and tears that helped her grow into this amazing member of society.

2025, March.

Dear Espera,

You won the spelling bee today. I came to watch and take pictures for your photo album. My mother also came, and we sat side by side in the fourth row. A safe distance to be able to see you, but not close enough enough that you’d see us and be nervous. She cheered loudly for you. Another parent came up to me and asked me what was my secret. My daughter was at the top of her class, and she had been for years, there had to be something I was doing differently. What they didn’t know is that I have kept you so far from me that we barely know each other.

I know you strive for my love and my approval, I see it in your eyes. I know that you try harder than most kids your age because you want to show me your worth. All I want is to tell you to never base your worth on someone else’s validation because you’ll always be disappointed. Sometimes, even your mother isn’t someone you can count on. Unfortunately, that’s your reality, having a mother who won’t always show her love or support.

I’m sorry that this is your life. Maybe I should have given you up. Maybe then things would’ve been better for the both of us. You would’ve been with a family that loved and cherished you, and I could have moved on. We both deserved that, but this is what we have.

-Mother

2027, October.

Dear Espera,

I finally got you to bed after a long day. We were out trick or treating today and some kids threw eggs at you. They ruined your Princess Tiana costume and broke your heart too. You were so sad and cried the whole walk home.

I couldn’t help but hate those kids. My maternal instincts kicked in and all I wanted was to make you feel better, I couldn’t stand to listen to you cry. So when we got home and after we got you into the bath, I ordered a pizza. I brought you to the living room and poured your candy out on the table with the pizza beside the pile. I let you pick any movie you wanted, no matter how scary, and promised we’d watch it together that night. You chose The Shining. I popped popcorn and poured mini M&Ms inside, just the way you always ate it. We stayed up late watching the movie, and then when you were too scared to go to sleep decided on staying up to watch movies. We ate pizza through Princess and the Frog and then Encanto.

This was the first day that I truly felt close to you. I wanted to protect you from whatever was out there that could hurt you. I can’t help but wonder if one of the things I should be protecting you from is me, from a mother who would never say I love you.

-Mother

2035, August.

Dear Espera,

You’re in an independent phase right now, so you don’t usually come to me for much anymore. I don’t mind it really, it gives me more time for hobbies and such, more time for me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted since having you, more time for me and the thing I love doing.

But today you came home crying. Your face was splotchy and red. You were stammering and sobbing in between every word. You collapsed in my arms, clutching onto my body like a life raft.

Daniel had been cheating on you. He was your first boyfriend, and the first time we ever fought was over him. You were adamant that you loved him, and I was sure he was using you. It was the first time I so desperately wanted to be wrong. I’d be wrong a thousand times more if it meant you would never be as heartbroken as you were in that moment.

I guess this is when I realized I more than cared about you. But how could I do this? Therapy didn’t work, medication didn’t work. I’ve tried hundreds of things to move on from that night. It’s like every time I look at you I’m back on that bed with a pillow over my face and I can’t breathe.

Watching you in those moments though, when your heart is breaking or your innocence is in jeopardy, I felt great remorse for not giving you more. In those moments I can’t help but feel guilty for not being able to love you the way you deserve.

-Mother

March 8, 2036. A day I will remember for the rest of my life. March 8th, in the middle of the Women’s Day March, my mother died. I had taken Espera herself to the march, along with a friend and her mom, a date for us both. I was keeping a close eye on her, “Girls, stay ahead of us please,” I called to them at one point.

“Your mom is such a buzzkill,” Espera’s friend muttered when she thought I couldn’t hear her.

“She does her best, I guess,” is all Espera said back.

A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, a small sense of pride settling in my chest. That’s when I got the call from my mother’s home attendant. She came to give my mother her meds before lunch and found her gone in her chair. She was 64 years old.

March 20, 2036. Another day I will remember for the rest of my life. I looked it up, it’s International Day of Happiness. Funny enough, it was also the day we buried my mom. Espera stood at my side as I finally let myself go. Since the moment I got the call, I haven’t been able to cry, to let my guard down, to breathe. And here, standing next to my rapist’s daughter, and my daughter, and all the other people who loved my mother, I was overwhelmed with emotion.

I cried and cried. Sobbed. My shoulders shook and my chest heaved. Snot ran down my nose and into a soaked tissue. My mother, my support system. Gone. Now it’s just me and Espera on our own. How am I supposed to do this without my mom? All I want is my mom right now. She got me through undergrad and graduate school. She found me a well paying job as a receptionist to take care of Espera while I was getting my masters. She let me stay in her home the first few months of Espera’s life, until I could afford to move out on my own. She babysat during my night classes when I decided to double major in photography and film halfway through my masters and had to extend it another year to makeup work. I am where I am today because of my mother.

Warm arms wrapped around me. Opening my eyes, I saw Esprea looking up at me, tears in her eyes. Then, I remembered, she’s watching. Things with her have been hard recently. She’s still doing everything she possibly can to impress me, and I’m doing everything I can to learn to survive around her without my mom. Then there’s Daniel. Or there was. He was an influence to say the least. I don’t know what it is you saw in him, but I know I can relate to that feeling of falling in love for the first time. No romantic insecurities or past baggage to weigh you down. I understand wanting to do anything in your power to keep that in your life, because I’ve done the same thing. Back when I was 17, I was dating a guy who shall not be named, but at the time he was world. I did everything to be with him, make him more attracted to me, and see him smile more. It’s like I was all consumed by this feeling of care for someone, for loving that he wanted me any capacity. Because some love was better than no love I guess. But at this moment, it won’t be coming from me. I removed her hands from around me and stepped away.

Things with my mother last year hadn’t been easy. She had early onset dementia, diabetes, and survived two surgeries after a tumor was found in her throat. It was all pretty early stage of everything when she died. She had just started to forget that she was my mom, that she had a granddaughter. Some part of me felt worse realizing Espera was losing more than her grandmother, she was also losing the only real maternal figure in her life would could say “I love you” to her.

2037, December.

Dear Espera,

You’re applying to colleges right now. Things are pretty hectic. It’s been a lot of interviews and traveling. Considering I had to work, now as an Investor based on my math degree, you had to do most of this on your own. You’ve been going to various different states and even different countries trying to figure out the fight fit for the “vibe” that you want. This has given me some newfound freedoms.

I walk around the house naked, and take long bubble baths while you’re away. I catch up on reading my books and magazines while you’re on the plane, the only hobby that feels acceptable to do during the time.

I won’t lie, I’m worried what the world will bring you. You’re almost 18, you’re almost right where I was when I had you. I want you to have more than what I have had in the past. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you, and I want you to get that. I want you to live life, and make memories. I know things will be different from here on out, I won’t be part of your everyday anymore. That I’m okay with, I think. I think I need time to heal away from you.

With that said, I will always be here to help you. To watch you. To care for you. And to get you to the next phase of your life. My job may be over, but it’s far from done.

-Mother

I knew she wanted more from me, something real, but I wasn’t sure if that was something I could give her. We did a dance all through her high school years until the day she left for college.

We stood side by side as we folded her clothes into a box. The clock ticking over her bed is the only noise in the room, other than the soft ‘thump’ of clothes hitting the pile. My shoulders were dropped low, not tense with any anxiety. I was simply doing my job, my last day of the job I guess. After today, she’ll be her own person, and I will have little to no part in it. It’ll be the same way it was with me and my mother when I turned 18. It’s a scary realization to come to. Those first few months I was 18 over the summer, living my life as if I was gonna die tomorrow and my mother knew nothing of it. As far as she was concerned, as long as I was answering her calls and texts, she had no reason to call the police.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I folded over another shirt and dropped it in the box. Espera rolled up a pair of jeans and dropped it in a separate box. This is how quiet the house normally was when there were no conversations to be made.

“My classes start Monday,” Espera said. “I have a few days to settle in before then.”

“That’s good,” I answered.

We fell back into familiar silence, returning to folding clothes and packing things away. I felt Espera’s eyes on the side of my face but made no attempt to look at her. She tossed a pair of leggings into the box with force and turned her entire body to face me.

I glanced over at her and took in the expectant look on her face. “What?” I asked.

“When is it gonna be?”

“When is what gonna be?” I asked.

“When is it gonna be when you actually start acting like a mom?” “How is a mom supposed to act?” I dropped another shirt in the box.

“Maybe like their kid matters?”

“I have done everything for you, everything.” I truly did what I thought was best, giving my all while keeping my distance.

“Sure we do stuff together but you completely check out and barely ever look at me.” She argued.

I scoffed, “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is!” Espera exclaimed. “You talk to me and look right through me as if I’m not really there.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I admitted.

“Anything! I’ll take anything at this point!” She threw her arms up and let them fall back at her sides, “Anything that isn’t as superficial as our entire relationship has been.”

I returned my gaze to the box. “I don’t know what you want from me,” I repeated. “I don’t want to speak to you if you aren’t calm and talking rationally.” I turned and walked out of the room.

I walked towards my bedroom, right across the hall, and grabbed my purse and phone. I headed down the stairs and out of the house. I didn’t get into my car but walked a familiar route. The old way Espera and I used to walk, back when she was a baby and I was unsure of where we stood. The majority of our life I was unsure of where we stood to be fair, even now.

It wasn’t so much that I hated her anymore, I cared very deeply for Espera. I mean, she’s my daughter, of course I cared for her. Maybe I just haven’t fully moved on yet; maybe part of me still holds onto the moment she’s attached to. I don’t want to hold that against her, it’s not like it’s her fault and I don’t blame her for it. At least I don’t mean to. Still, keeping her in my life meant never forgetting it.

After I walked a full look around our old neighborhood, I returned home. The house was quiet from downstairs, but as soon as I reached the second level I heard soft cries. My bedroom door was open and light streamed into the hallway. I inched closer to the door and pushed it the rest of the way. There on the floor in the center of my destroyed room was Espera. She was sobbing into her hands with papers crumpled into her chest. “Espera?” I approached her.

Her hands pulled away from her face, and she finally looked at me. She raised a shaky hand and stuck the papers out in front of me. Once my eyes had finally settled, I realized they were my letters. “What are you doing?” I asked her, my voice hoarse as if I smoked a pack of cigarettes before this. My palms grew sweaty in a matter of milliseconds and my heart started beating in my ears.

She sniffled and sobbed until she could take in a deep breath. “I was looking for my passport, my friends and I are taking a weekend getaway to Mexico soon.” She took a large shuddering exhale and spoke again, “I didn’t want to have to come back and need something from you. And I found them. What are these?” Espera whispered.

“You weren’t-”

“-What are these, mom?”

“Espera, you weren’t supposed to-”

“-What are these!”

I sighed finally. “You weren’t meant to read those.” The letter had been a method I learned in therapy to try and move past the trauma, she was never meant to read them. By all the papers in her hand and spread out all over the floor around her, she’s read nearly every single one I’ve written the past 18 years and nine months. For every milestone in her life, bad day in mine, and monumental strive in our relationship I wrote a letter. And now, here they were laid out and read by eyes that weren’t mine. That very last eyes that should ever lay on these letters have laid on them.

I looked at her, the woman I raised but never allowed myself to get close to. I kept her safe and cared for her at arm’s length. Is that what this was? Did I love her at a distance? I cared for her from afar and it wasn’t so bad for me, but it became bad for her. Was this his fault for hurting me or mine for never moving past it? All I know is that she wanted answers and I had to be the one to give them to her. I always knew this day would come, and I’ve been getting ready for it for years. It’s time to finally give her some real answers.

She asked if I knew him. I said I didn’t, we met at a party.

She asked if he knew about her. I said he didn’t.

She asked why I didn’t tell him about her. I said he didn’t deserve to have her too.

She asked me for details of the night. Had he drugged me? Where had I been? Had I even gone to my first class yet? I hadn’t.

She asked if that’s why I stay up at night and drink lots of coffee. I tell her that’s how my mother coped with bad days, a long night of coffee to think and sort through the puzzle.

She asked me so many other questions. She asked if this was why I never loved her.

“It’s not that I don’t want the best for you, and I dream for you and hope everything in life goes your way, but,” I paused, “You have your father’s eyes.” Big hazel eyes with gold flecks in them. I could see the way my honesty had stabbed her in the back. There was her before, and her after that are two different things. I told her all the truths, that it hurt and I was sore for the days following. I told her that I was still angry, and I didn’t know when I wouldn’t be. I told her that I didn’t remember much of what happened right after, that I was so far gone that I couldn’t remember a lot of the following hours. All I did know was that someone found me, covered in blood and vomit and other things, and called the police.

“You were my age when all that happened?” She asked, looking down at her hands.

I sigh softly, hesitantly. “Yes.” It’s strange to be reminded of that fact when she’s having the realization for the first time. She seemed to be struggling to look at me, as I was struggling to look at her. It was like seeing in a mirror. She may have her father’s eyes, but she has grown to have my everything else. My dark curls, the moles on and around my nose, my dimples. She even has my sun kissed skin, covered in strawberry skin and freckles. It’s almost as much of a relief as it sounds.

Sometime during the night, I had been cleaning the mess Espera left in my room, she had left. She took what we had packed, left whatever we didn’t, and she didn’t say goodbye.

The first few weeks she was gone were strangely freeing. I no longer had a constant reminder of the worst night of my life. I could breathe again. I started doing things I enjoyed again, like photography and film. I baked for the first time in years. I quit my high stress job and traded in for something that allowed me to be more creative. I went from being creative with people’s money to making art. I had a few different jobs at work, especially after a few promotions along the way. But at this point I was taking photos for movies and TV show sets, getting behind the scenes stuff. In the mornings I did yoga and went on runs, in the evenings I went out and came back at any time because I had no one to worry about.

In the last few years, my life has gotten back on track. I went back to school, got a new job as a photographer, and started traveling more. I dedicated most of my free time to baking or self-care. I dated, regularly, for the first time in years. Life was finally mine again. I just never went inside her room again.

Imagine my surprise when I was walking down the street one day in the middle of Europe, lost in my own thoughts, and I saw her. Espera. Her hair was longer, and her face had matured. She was smiling and speaking to a woman, their hands interlocked as they gazed inside a window of a shop. In that second, I froze. Looking at her then, a wave of feelings rose and crashed against my chest. Yearning and want, pain and confusion. Forgiveness.

I watch, stuck in place, as she turns her head and kisses the woman on the cheek. They share a smile before turning and walking off. I take a few steps towards her, as she takes steps away and then stop. I watch them until they fade, people push past me and brush me aside, but I couldn’t muster a fuck to give. All I wanted was the piece of me that was walking away. The mirrored image of myself. The woman who was all love and kind and deserving of everything right in life. She looks so happy, and some healed part of me says that I want to be part of that.

My vision clouds as tears blur my vision. She’s gone now, too far for me to do anything now, so I turn around and leave. I walk past my rented car, past so many places, things, and people and all of it seemed so irrelevant to me.

I don’t make it back to my hotel until dark. I pack my bags and take the next flight home. I canceled all my work for the following week. The moment I walked back into my house, I trudged up the stairs to my room and sat at my desk. I did what I hadn’t done in a very long time. I wrote a letter.

2045, July.

Dear Espera,

I don’t know how to start this, I’m not even sure what I want to say to you. All I do know is that I miss you. I want to be part of your life if you’ll have me. I know things are complicated now that you know. Despite it all you are my daughter. You exist because I had more love in my chest than I did hate. What he did, means nothing because it says nothing about you. Yes, you came from him, but you became such a light in this world. So, what does that say about you? I think it says a lot about your soul and your kindness.

Now that you know the truth, it takes even more courage from you to continuously choose a different path than he did. He did something terrible to me, took something from me that I’ll never get back. I guess my mother was right, you were exactly what I needed. It wasn’t that I kept you for your sake, it’s that I needed something to keep me going. You were the thing that kept me going. I woke up every day for you, I made every decision for you, and I’d sacrifice my peace for you all over again.

I wish I knew how important you were years ago, but tonight seeing your engagement photos I realized that the time we had apart was needed. You had to become a person who wasn’t constantly trying to win my approval, and I had to become a person of my own again.

I know this may be difficult, but I’d love to be there for every next phase of your life. I’d love to see you say ‘I do’. To see you have kids, if you want kids. It’d give me peace to know you were finally happy.

Love,

Mother.

I stared at the letter, the rushed and sloppy scribbles, and sighed. I folded the letter, stuffed it into an envelope and ran out to stuff it in a mailbox before I could lose my nerve. I realized halfway down the street that I walked out without my shoes on.

I return to my home and go lay in bed with the lights shut off. I stared off into the darkness, wondering what I would do when she received the letter.

What would I say to her if given the chance? I guess I would start with an apology, she deserves that much. I wouldn’t know where to go from there, or how to start building back what we lost. All I know is that I’d love to have the chance. That’s all hoping she responds to the letter, hoping I didn’t ruin everything between us.

I fall asleep to the sound of the rain starting to pour outside. That night I dreamed of a younger version of me, happy and loving, meeting Espera. The two of us played all night in my dreams, games that lasted hours and hours. We skipped, danced, and played hopscotch. It was the happiest I felt in a long time, and it wasn’t real.

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