#but i can't crash at my parents' anymore

[ignitelimelight]

I may have girlbossed too close to the sun and made myself look presentable on paper to the point that a disability lawyer won't take my case. Which is funny because, like my girlbossing despite being nonbinary, it seems i've distilled the complexity and nuance of my particular disability into something palatable. And palatable does not get disability.

[delicatetaysversion]

my best friend's MOTHER called me to scold me about being depressed and self isolating lol what has life even come to

[watermelinoe]

i think circadian rhythm disorders should count as a disability

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[lonelychicago]

r/relationship_advice

u/hot_pilot84 • 2d ago

MY (40M) BOYFRIEND? (33M) IS IN LOVE WITH HIS BEST FRIEND (36M) AND IM THE THIRD WHEEL

I'm new to this reddit stuff, but a coworker suggested it, and I thought I'd give it a try. I probably should start saying he's not really my boyfriend??? We just started dating a few weeks ago, and it's been... interesting. But I really like him and he is a nice, sweet guy.

He recently came out, so I've been trying to be patient and understanding. But recently it's been hard to spend any time alone because his best friend is always there.

Now, I also like the guy, so I don't really mind, and to be honest, I kinda suspected from the first moment they were in love with each other. They both talk about each other all the time, and when we hang out together, I can't help but feel like intruding on an intimate moment I shouldn't be part of.

Like, our second date was at his sister's wedding and the best friend spent most of the time glued to our side. He has a son who my date adores, so they danced together for most of the party as well. It was cute, but again: it felt like intruding on a private moment.

Then we had a relaxing night at his place, eating take out on his couch and watching a movie.... when the best friend just, came in. No notice, no knocking. He has a key to the place and he just walked in. It was awkward at first but we insisted it wasn't a big deal so he stayed for tge rest of the night.

By the time I was leaving, my date was telling him to just get comfortable on the couch.

Another thing is. My date? Situationship? I don't know how to call it anymore. Well, I recently found out that he is the legal guardian of his best friend 's kid? In case anything happens? I wouldn’t find this weird at all if it wasn't for the fact this man has parents and sisters and other close family members that also have a less chance of dying along with him on the job. (They work together.)

Also. Recently, the best friend broke up with his girlfiend and called this guy in the middle of our date. So, he crashed again.

All of this to say, I'm not really hurt? This was new and sure, I like the guy. But to be honest my expectations were low. This is fairly recent, so it's not like my heart is broken and I just lost the love of my life. No, that's not the problem.

I just don't think these two know they're in love with each other, and it’s starting to get really uncomfortable for me. Should I say something? Should I talk with my date about it or just break things off and keep it vague, but that we should still be friends? Should I talk with both of them at the same time and confront the situation?

This is a situation I don't even know how to begin to get a handle on. Does anyone know where I should start?

rctherpcliarredditor • commented 1d ago

to be honest, i don't really have any advice for you. i just find this gay drama really hilarious. thoughts and prayers for you, my man 🙏🏼🙏🏼

twohottakes • commented 6hrs ago

definitely have a conversation alone with your date. point all of this out to him and tell him you don't wanna get in the middle if there's deeper feelings involved for someone else. all the luck to you, man!

storyreddit23 • commented 2hrs ago

talk to ur date!! and pls, post an update if u do. i wanna know how this ends.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover

[steddieas-shegoes]

so glad i found you

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is coparenting'

rated t | 1,428 words | cw: mention of previous marriage (steve's) | tags: established relationship, single dad steve (except he isn't anymore *wink wink*), steddie dads, modern au, marriage proposal

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Sarah, come on!" Steve yelled from the kitchen, his eyes drifting to the clock that he hoped was lying. They were gonna be late for school. Again.

"Daddy, I can't find my jacket!" Sarah came running through the kitchen, only half-dressed, no backpack in sight.

"What do you mean? It was on the hook last night."

"It's not now."

Steve groaned.

And then a jacket was thrust into his hands and a sleep-rough voice was in his ear. "Found it on the floor in the bathroom."

Steve grabbed the jacket from Eddie, kissing his cheek in thanks.

"Eddie found it, let's go!" Steve yelled before whispering to just Eddie. "Thank you, baby. Sorry for waking you up."

"Needed to get up anyway. Wanted to say bye to Sarah."

Steve watched as Eddie walked over to the cabinet that held their vitamins. He reached in and grabbed the gummies Sarah was supposed to take every day. Steve wasn't always the best about remembering them, but Eddie never forgot.

He reached in the fridge next, grabbing the smoothie Steve forgot about and handing it to him. "Since I know you didn't eat anything," Eddie kissed his cheek again and leaned against the counter holding the gummies for Sarah.

"Thanks, Eds," Steve said as Sarah came crashing back into the kitchen and reached for her jacket. "Why did you move this into the bathroom?"

"I didn't."

"Ah, I fear the ghosts are at it again, Steve," Eddie said, smirking when Sarah giggled. He handed her the gummies once she had her arms in the jacket. "Vitamins to make you big and strong, your highness."

"Thanks, Dad."

Everyone froze. The clock on the wall stopped ticking. The air was sucked out of the room.

Sarah was bright red, and because she wasn't the type to stick around an awkward situation, she turned and walked out of the room.

Eddie blinked at Steve, lips parted as he tried to remember how to breathe.

He'd been with Steve for just over a year, and while he didn't technically live with them, he spent more time at their apartment than his own. He was on Sarah's emergency pick-up list, took her with him to run errands when Steve had to work late, bought her things when the budget allowed just because he wanted to, and would read to her most nights that he stayed over. In many ways, he was her dad.

She hardly knew her mom, only spent two weeks every summer with her and was perfectly fine with that. Steve's ex-wife had admitted from the beginning of the pregnancy that she thought it was a mistake and when she filed for divorce when Sarah was six months old, Steve wasn't surprised. She had no interest in being a mom the way Steve had so desperately wanted to be a dad. But even still, Eddie never wanted them to feel like he was trying to force any type of parental power.

She'd called him Eddie until this moment, and he'd been completely fine with it. He would've been fine with it forever if it meant he got to have them both.

"I can talk to her. I don't think she meant to say it and it's okay if you don't want her to. She'll understand and-" Steve started rambling, trying to prevent Eddie from panicking.

But he wasn't. He was just doing his best not to start crying.

"But did she mean it?" He asked, voice shaking as he realized how much he did want her to call him Dad.

"I dunno, Eds. Probably. You know she never says things she doesn't mean. But we can talk to her-"

"No. I mean, yes, we should. But not because I don't want her to." Eddie took a deep breath. "I've kinda been her dad for a while now. It feels like it, at least. We've been in this together for most of the last year, ya know? I wanna be this for her and for you."

Steve was going to melt into a puddle, maybe right through the floor into the apartment below them. The nice old couple who lived there would have to mop him up.

"Daddy? Da-Eddie?" Sarah's small voice said from the doorway.

"Come here, sweet pea," Steve got down closer to her level. She was tall for her age, but even at eight years old, she was barely level with his chest. "Do you wanna call Eddie Dad? There's no wrong answer."

Eddie nodded, getting down to her level, too.

"It won't hurt my feelings if you just said it by accident, princess. I promise I love being your Eddie," he smiled at her.

He meant that, he wouldn't lie to her. But a small part of him hoped she wouldn't go back to calling him just Eddie after that. Not after he had a taste of what it could be like to be her dad.

"Well, you do dad stuff with me. Like when we built that birdhouse because I was scared the robin would have her eggs in a tree and they'd fall and crack and the babies would die. And when you took me shopping for a dress so I could go to Daddy's awards for work. And you always read to me with the voices and stuff." Sarah was playing with her hair, a nervous habit she'd somehow picked up from Eddie in such a short time. "And that's stuff that Daddy does with me all the time too, like when you're not here with us to do it. And sometimes even when you are and you both do it it feels like I have two dads. I like having two dads."

Steve and Eddie were both barely holding back tears as she spoke. She'd always been incredibly brave about her feelings.

"I like doing all that stuff with you, princess. But I would love it all no matter what you called me, okay?" Eddie said around a barely contained sob.

"But you love Daddy and me right?"

"Of course."

"And you kinda live with us."

He let out a wet laugh. "Yeah, I guess I kinda do."

"And you maybe will get married?"

Steve nearly choked on his own breath. "Sarah, honey, remember I told you that kind of decision is something that takes time and-"

"Yeah, princess. I think maybe we will. Not right now, but someday," Eddie interrupted.

Steve resisted glaring at him. He knew better than to make promises to a child, they'd already been over this before, and he could already see Sarah's wheels spinning.

"Wait-"

"So I can wear a pretty dress?" Sarah asked, as if that was the most important thing. "Can I hold both your hands?"

"If your Daddy is okay with it when it happens. But you know what has to happen first?" Eddie poked her dimple, smiling at her with teary eyes. "He has to say yes."

Sarah looked over at Steve, who was...confused.

"Daddy! Say yes!"

"He's gotta ask!" Steve exclaimed. "And he doesn't have a ring. We've only been together a year."

"Stevie."

Something in Eddie's voice made Steve pause and look at him instead of Sarah.

"I have a ring. Not with me, but. I already know you're it for me." Eddie held Sarah's hand and Steve's. "I just wanted to make sure Sarah was okay with it first. So. Sarah Harrington."

"Yes, Dad?"

Jesus, Steve was pretty sure he would die from this. In a good way, maybe the best way, but Jesus Christ.

"Would it be okay if I ask your dad to marry me? I could be your other dad and I promise I can read to you every night."

"Hm." Sarah thought for barely a second before she beamed at Steve. "Daddy, I'm saying yes. So you have to say yes. I want Eddie to live with us forever."

The most important thing to Steve was someone who Sarah loved and who loved Sarah in return, someone who was part of their family because they wanted to be, someone who felt proud to be theirs.

Eddie checked off all of that and then some.

He looked at Eddie and smiled. "Well, you heard the princess. Yes!"

Being late for school turned into being absent from school. Steve and Eddie skipped work for the day so they could all be together. Eddie went to his apartment to get the ring and Sarah made decorations for a "real" proposal.

He didn't mind that it wasn't anything extravagant. None of them did.

[ericshoney]

Blaming you ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Your brothers find out their film camera is broken and instantly blame you.

Warnings: usual swearing, shouting, crying, blaming, argument, angst with a fluff ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick, Matt and Chris were home in Boston for some time. Whilst they were home they still wanted to film a couple videos, in between spending time with their parents, you and their friends.

As you entered your early teens, now being thirteen, you loved seeing your brothers home and messing around, instead of on a screen. You loved sitting with Nick to watch how he edited the videos, it all made you smile.

You also loved their cameras. You were careful if you ever touched them, sometimes offering to help record their videos with them. It made your parents and brothers smile knowing you had an interest too.

But today, Nick, Matt and Chris had just finished filming a video. They left the camera in the living room on the sofa as they went to clean up, not noticing Trevor trotting through and jumping onto his favourite napping spot. Which resulted in the camera falling to the floor.

You walked past just as it fell, you gasped hearing the crash and rushed over, picking up the now broken camera.

"Oh Trev...." You said.

The dog looked at you, knowing he was in trouble. However, Nick, Matt and Chris didn't know it was Trevor, they instantly blamed you, seeing you hold the broken item.

"What the fuck, kid!" Nick shouted.

"What?" You called.

"You broke our fucking camera!" Chris shouted, taking the camera away from you.

"No I didn't!" You shouted back.

"Don't lie!" Matt shouted.

"I'm not! I was in my room the whole time and walked in to see it fall to the floor as Trevor was jumping around. You responded.

"Then why were you holding it?" Chris asked.

"Cause I picked it up off the floor, dumbass!" You screamed.

"Hey don't call him that! Just own up to the mistake, don't blame Trev, he can't stand up for himself and stop lying." Nick replied.

"None of you believe me..." You called.

You looked at your older brothers in shock, all three looked angry and upset. You couldn't believe they blamed you instantly and didn't take into consideration it could have been Trevor.

"This is a really expensive camera, kid." Matt said.

"I know that and I wouldn't break it on purpose! If it was my mistake I'd own up to it, but I walked past as it fell!" You screamed, tears now rolling down your face in frustration.

You then ran off to your room before they could say anything else. The three shared a look, all feeling the same thing.

"You think she's telling the truth?" Chris asked.

"I don't know..." Matt answered.

Nick was silent as he saw small pieces of the camera still on the floor, very close to where Trevor was. He looked at the dog and how he was jumping on the sofa.

"Trevor did you break our camera?" Nick asked, as if the dog would answer him.

When the dog looked at him and whimpered, Nick instantly knew that was his way of saying yes. The eldest triplet sighed and looked to Matt and Chris.

"We fucked up, come on." He said.

The three then walked upstairs to your room, as they got close they heard your cries and sniffles. They frowned as Matt knocked and walked in.

"Go away." You mumbled.

"Sweetheart, we came to apologise." Nick said softly.

You looked up from your pillow, seeing their frowning faces. They walked over, sitting on your bed.

"We're sorry we blamed you instantly. Trevor admitted he did it." Nick responded.

"Our dog said he broke your camera?" You called.

"Welllll, in a way, yes." He answered with a laugh.

"We're really sorry though, we shouldn't have blamed you or shouted." Matt replied.

"I get it." You mumbled.

"No, we don't have a right to blame you and especially shout at you. We're sorry bub." Chris said.

"We'll make it up to you." Nick continued.

"Okay." You agreed.

They smiled and gave you a tight group hug, all apologising once again. You smiled, happy they weren't angry anymore.

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie is not scared of thunderstorms after what happened in the Upside Down. Not at all.

It had started raining several hours before and the drizzle quickly turned into a thunderstorm. The wind was blowing hard and slapping the twigs of the tree in front of your house on your bedroom window.

Rain poured down on the roof and from time to time the sound of thunder rumbled throughout the whole house.

The night sky outside was dark, with no moon or stars.

You were on your bed, Eddie was sitting with his back against the headboard, his arm was around your waist, your head was resting on his chest and your face was pressed into his Black Sabbath shirt.

About half an hour earlier you had started watching a movie but then you were distracted by cuddling and because of the noise of the rain and thunder drowning out the voices coming from the small tv in your room.

You had turned off the TV a few minutes before, deciding you'd rather focus on Eddie and his hand slowly stroking your side.

A crashing thunder rumbled in your ears and you thought the lightning didn't have to have fallen very far from you to cause such a din.

Suddenly, you felt Eddie's hand on yours, it wouldn't be the first time he'd start playing with your fingers or your rings in a moment of calm and intimacy like that.

Instead, that time his hand found yours to hold it and intertwine his fingers with yours.

You smiled sinking your face into his chest, just enjoying that gesture.

A few minutes later, as you were about to fall asleep, another thunder almost made you jump and you felt Eddie's hand suddenly squeeze yours. Not to the point of hurting you, but he certainly added pressure.

You lifted your head and before you could speak, his grip already loosened but his hand was still on yours.

"You okay?" You asked.

He nodded. "Of course."

You tried to read his expression, something was definitely wrong, you knew him well enough to know.

"Eddie."

"What?"

"You squeezed my hand."

"No I-"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence when you both heard the rumble of another thunder, so loud it felt like the house was shaking.

Eddie's hand squeezed yours again, this time even harder than the previous one and he closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds, while the sound echoed until it disappeared, and then opened them again, looking at you.

He let go of your hand and stared at you with his big chocolate brown eyes that you could see shining even in the dark.

"Oh my god." You whispered, that was the moment you realized.

Thunders. Lightnings. The noise.

The Upside Down.

Eddie was scared because of what happened in the Upside Down.

You opened your arms and he lunged into them, burying his face in the crook of your neck and closing his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" You asked without sounding accusing, none of that was his fault.

"'Cause it's stupid." He murmured, his lips tickling your skin as he spoke.

It wasn't stupid if it was scaring the shit out of him, you could tell by the desperate way he was holding onto you.

As another roar of thunder broke through, Eddie hold you even tighter, squeezing the fabric of your shirt in his fists and pushing his face into your neck.

You run your hand up and down his back, tracing imaginary drawings and left a few kisses on the side of his head that you could reach.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, the tone of his voice sounded like that of a child scared of sleeping alone who in the middle of the night, got into his parents' bed.

"Hey, It's okay, I'm here. I got you." You whispered as you left a kiss on his temple. "You're not there anymore. They can't hurt you, I promise."

At your simple words, Eddie actually seemed to calm down a bit and his tense muscles relaxed under your touch.

You held him all night, all through the storm and even after.

Whenever there was thunder Eddie would hold you tight and you would alternate between phrases like "it's okay, breathe. It'll all be over soon" and "focus on my voice, it's okay. No one's going to hurt you. I'm right here. I love you."

Around three in the morning, the storm started to calm down and the thunders finally stopped.

Eddie didn't budge from you and you kept caressing his back and leaving a few kisses in his hair until you heard a buzz.

He had fallen asleep. He was asleep, he was snoring and you had never been so happy to hear that noise.

You finally closed your eyes.

"Goodnight Ed."

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

[goldfades]

𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ─ JH⁸⁶

TRACK 18 ─── IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | almost a year ago, your whole was shattered by the one person you'd never thought would hurt you. and now you were back in the city where it all started with one simple mission ─ get him back.

─ word count | 2.5k

─ warnings | oof where do i begin, angst? obviously second-chance romance, slightly suggestive, mention of drinking/getting tipsy, jack being a cocky ass, slightly fluffy? idk just a lot of word vomit but yeah!

─ taglist |

─ ev's notes | yaya! first ttpd celly fic is out!! hoorayyeeee!!! also i've been listening to this album like on fucking repeat since friday and holy shit, this is probably my third fav now (sorry speak now). i also literally can't choose a fav but according to my music app, i've listened to so high school 72 times since it came out!!!!!!!!

YOU SWORE YOU'D NEVER COME back to New Jersey ─ but, here you were.

How you ended up here, tipsy and alone in this bar? You're not exactly sure. What you do know is that the night started in your childhood home with your parent's very expensive bottle of wine. And now you were here, in downtown Jersey in one of your old high school dresses that fits a little tighter than it did almost 5 years ago.

Your lips were stained red as you ordered another glass of Blueberry Gin & Tonic. You didn't know when you had started drinking Gin & Tonic but a lot had changed in the last couple of months. You didn't even know who you really were anymore, it was blurry.

And you could blame all of that on your high-school sweetheart ─ the person you'd thought you'd spend the rest of your life with. Key word: thought, as in past-tense.

As you swirled the ice in your glass, memories flooded back like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your mind. The late-night drives down highway roads, the whispered promises of forever, and the way your heart used to skip a beat at the sight of his smile. But somewhere along the way, those promises faded into echoes, and the smiles became almost bitter memories.

It all came crashing down a few months ago. The pain was like a dagger through your heart, leaving you gasping for air in a world suddenly devoid of color. You lost the one person in your life who made you, you. You had to relearn who you really were without him.

And in the aftermath, you tried to pick up the pieces of your shattered and almost confusing life, but the wounds were too deep, the scars too raw. So you ran, running from the memories that now haunted you, seeking solace in the anonymity of far-away cities and unfamiliar faces.

But no matter how far you ran, you couldn't outrun the ghosts of your past. They followed you like shadows, lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.

And tonight was no different.

When your eyes locked with his familiar blue ones, a particular ghost of your past appeared. And you didn't miss the way you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw his now grown-out hair (you'd never let him grow it out when you were together) and his soft stubble that you always made him shave. But it suited him, he looked more mature.

But you weren't surprised, it almost seemed like fate. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that you knew, in the back of your mind, he always liked spending his Saturdays playing pool with his friends, in this exact bar. You pretended like you hadn't planned this entire thing.

And so you feigned ignorance, pretending as if you hadn't noticed him at all. You kept gazing at him, taking him in. You felt the anger rise in your body as your nose flared, beginning to think sober up again. You took another swig of your drink and turned away from him, you could practically hear the wheels turning inside his head as he analyzed you right back.

A few moments pass and as you predicted, you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Y/N?"

You met his gaze and it felt so much different from the last time he'd looked at you. He looked... surprised? Is that even the right word? You felt his eyes scan you up and down, the tight dress fitting you perfectly in his mind.

You, too, had changed since the last time he'd saw you. Your hair was slightly shorter and more put together, you looked healthier and more mature. Less like a teenager and more like an adult now, but that's just how aging works, right? Not only did your looks change, but the way you carried yourself.

God, you were sexy. Jack always knew you were beautiful, it was undeniable. But after not seeing you for months now, you looked like a dream ─ a hauntingly beautiful vision that stirred something deep within him. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way you carried yourself, with a newfound confidence and poise that spoke of strength.

He was at a loss of words. But it was Jack, of course he didn't let it show. He plastered on his award-winning smirk and let his gaze fall back on to your face. "I didn't know you were back in Jersey, you shoulda texted."

Your face contorted into surprise. Was he really trying to pretend like nothing happened? Oh, two can play that game. "I was just visiting family." Your red lips turned into a tipsy smile. "But you're right, I should've texted. How have you been?"

"Awesome. Is this seat taken?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, he just pulled out a chair and sat down. He glanced down at your drink, the smirk still very much evident in face.

God, how much you wanted to just smash his face in. But you swallowed the anger with your drink, letting him study you for a few more moments.

"Since when do you drink?" His tone was amused as he watched you swallow the liquid so effortlessly, like it was water.

Since you left, you wanted to shout. "Not until recently."

You watched as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "And what brought about this newfound appreciation for alcohol?" He asked, his tone still but the underlying curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Life." you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Life has a funny way of changing things."

He nodded, as if he understood, but you could see the doubt flickering behind his eyes. He didn't know the half of it, didn't know the pain and the heartache you had endured in his absence. And part of you wanted to keep it that way, wanted to shield him from the truth of how much he had hurt you.

But another part of you, a smaller part buried deep within all the hurt and bitterness, wanted him to know. Wanted him to see the scars he had left on your soul, to feel the weight of the words left unsaid between you. But not to burden him, to somehow reverse all the pain he'd caused you.

"So, what have you been up to?" you asked, deflecting the conversation away from yourself. "Anything exciting?" By anything, you really meant anyone.

You saw the way Jack's smirk faltered as he shook his head. "Nope, nothin' new." But he knew that you knew the real answer.

Two months, it took him two months to move on from a 4 year relationship. "Really?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism. "No new hobbies, no new friends, no new... interests?"

Jack chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer to you, his gaze locking with yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, I might have picked up a few new hobbies," he admitted, his voice low. "But nothing as exciting as running into you here, that's for sure."

Despite yourself, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of your lips at his charming response. He had always had a way with words, a charisma that could disarm even the most guarded of hearts.

"There she is," his voice was soft as he watched the curves of your lips turn upward. "I missed that."

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a mixture of nostalgia and longing swirling within you like a whirlpool. Despite everything that had happened between you, there was still a part of you that missed the comfort of his presence, the familiarity of his smile.

"Well, don't let it get to your head," you teased, although the playful tone of your voice couldn't mask the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. "I wouldn't want you thinking you can charm your way out of everything."

"I'm not trying to, trust me. I can't help it." Jack smirked as he shrugged. "And for the record, I did miss it. I don't remember the last time I've seen your genuine smile."

Your smile faltered as your stomach squeezed in anxiety. The last couple of months of your relationship was spent only arguing, and the smiles had become a rarity, buried beneath layers of resentment and hurt. You swallowed hard, the memories of those final days weighing heavy on your heart like a rock.

"Yeah, well, it's been a while," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to push aside the memories threatening to overwhelm you. "A lot has changed since then."

"I can tell," his eyes scanned your body and you felt your heart jump. He wet his lips as his blue eyes met yours again, a grin playing on his lips. "I remember this dress. You wore it at my draft party, I remember."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, memories of that night flooding back with a rush of emotions. You remembered the excitement in the air, the pride shining in his family's eyes as he celebrated the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.

"Yeah, I remember," you said softly, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "It feels like so long ago."

Jack nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips as he reached across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I never forgot that night," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Or how beautiful you looked in this dress."

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt like the air was knocked out of you at his words. Goddamn him, his smooth-talk, and that damned cologne that made you feel high off of him. "Shut up," was all you could muster as Jack chuckled.

"Let's go take a walk."

And like always, Jack didn't wait for an answer. He just grabbed your hand and began walking toward the exit. Your mind raced as Jack's touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. And despite your inner turmoil and the warning bells ringing in your head, there was a part of you that couldn't resist the pull of his charm, the familiarity of his touch.

You hated how he still had this effect on you and how confident he was, he always made decisions for you. You're not sure if it's really a bad thing, because how can something so bad feel so insanely good?

"Okay," you said softly more to yourself than him, your voice barely above a whisper. You allowed him to lead you away from the dimly lit bar and out into the cool night air.

As you walked side by side, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over you. It was like stepping back in time, back to a simpler era when the world was young and full of promise.

Jack pulled you into his chest as you walked, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders as you leaned into him, seeking solace in his familiar warmth.

Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still longed for the comfort of his embrace, for the reassurance of his presence by your side.

"The dress still fits you so well," Jack finally spoke up. You could feel practically hear the grin on his face as you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging on your lips.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing I haven't outgrown it," you replied, your voice light and teasing as you leaned into his embrace subconsciously.

Jack chuckled, his arm tightening around you. "You'd look in a garbage bag, princess. You can never outgrow anything."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jack." You quipped.

"It's gotten me this fair, huh?" Jack's tone was amused as you felt yourself roll your eyes at his cockiness. He let out a laugh as he squeezed your arms, the way he knew you liked.

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face but instead, you just shook your head at his teasing. He still knew you so well, even after so long. As much as you wanted to resist his charm, there was a small part of you that couldn't help but be swept away by it. Jack had always had a way of getting under your skin, of finding the cracks in your armor and worming his way into your heart.

"You're insufferable," you said, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed the fondness you couldn't quite suppress.

Jack chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious as he leaned in closer to press a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"But you love me anyway," he said, his voice soft as he met your gaze with a knowing smile.

You couldn't deny the truth of his words, no matter how much you wanted to. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still loved him ─ had always loved him. Would you always love him?

You gazed back at him, his grin even bigger as his hand squeezed your arms again. The more you stared, the more you slipped back right where he wanted. Fuck, you were back.

Your hands came up to touch his soft stubble, one of the many new things about him. Something you never thought you'd like, you swore his clean-face was your favorite but he proved you wrong.

"You like it?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky as he watched you trace your fingers along his stubbled jawline. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power he still held over you.

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his gaze, your fingers lingering against his stubble. "It suits you. You look... different, but in a good way."

A smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, his eyes sparkling with gratitude as he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Thank you," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. "I'm glad you think so."

You smiled genuinely, the anger slowly dissipating as you looked into the eyes of the man you'd once loved, wholeheartedly. His face may have changed but his gaze was still the same, the same blue eyes you'd been drawn to from the beginning.

"Let's head back to the car, yeah?" His voice came out hoarse and low, you could hear practically hear the need in his voice. And again, you let him lead you back to his car and eventually, to his home.

Your lips curved into a smirk, you'd had gotten exactly what you'd sought out to do. You'd gotten him back, but who ever doubted you?

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[dovveri]

what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u

failing maths, but getting the girl

synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.

warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex

w/c: 4.0k

a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n!"

you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.

you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.

you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"

"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."

you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.

"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."

"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."

"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.

"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"

"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."

momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.

the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

“you failed.”

“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”

“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”

you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.

“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”

the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"

you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."

you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."

"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."

she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."

you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.

"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"

"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."

you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."

"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."

"oh... i guess that's better?"

"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"

"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"

"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."

you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.

your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."

"what?! you can't leave me here!"

your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"

you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.

two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.

you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.

definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.

your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.

"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.

"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.

"i-i'm sorry i-"

she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."

you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.

you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.

you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.

when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"

you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'

she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."

you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."

she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."

you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."

she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.

you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.

she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.

it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.

"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.

"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."

momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.

"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."

"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."

you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.

you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"

she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."

"wanna talk about it?"

she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."

it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."

"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"

she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."

"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"

she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."

you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"

she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."

you frown, sitting back on your heels.

"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"

"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.

you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.

you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.

you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."

you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."

momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."

you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.

"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"

she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.

"you don't need any of those things anyway."

you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.

she clears her throat, "all done."

you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.

you beam up at her, "thanks!"

she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."

you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"

she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"

you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"

she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.

once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..

"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."

"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"

momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"

"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.

"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.

"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."

you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"

"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"

"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"

"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."

you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"

she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."

you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"

momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.

"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."

"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."

you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.

momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.

"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"

"y/n..."

"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."

"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.

you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.

"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.

"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."

you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.

"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.

"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"

she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"

you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."

"y/n!"

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.

you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.

you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.

you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?

you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.

you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"

momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.

that was hot.

"rohypnol."

"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?

you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.

"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."

the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"

"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"

"what!? the fuck?!"

momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."

he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.

she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."

you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.

she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.

you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.

"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.

she hums lightly against you, "which part?"

"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"

she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"

you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."

her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.

you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.

you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.

[wjhik]

Hellooo <3

can I request a dad!Jude fic where him and the reader invite his family over for dinner but your son is just restless , the kids don't stop screaming and hitting everybody looking for attention, trying to throw plates on the floor even Mark Jobe's games that usually keeps him busy don't work anymore.

-also the reader is like heavily pregnant with her second child so she can't do much to help

I WANNA SEE SOME STRICT DAD JUDE

thank you😻

Attention (Jude Bellingham)

A/N: daddy jude in this 😜 (literally. he is a father.)

Y/N’s POV: 

“Noah, please put that down.” I tell my very rowdy 5 year old who is insisting on playing with our crystal bowl. I smell something burning and quickly leave the pot on the stove to open the oven. My meatloaf is slightly burned on the top, but I can just cut it off. I grab my oven mitts and take the dish out of the oven. I place it on the stove top and look up after hearing a crash followed by crying. “I didn’t do anything!” Noah says, throwing his hands up. I see his twin sister on the floor, crying. I walk over to her and crouch down. “What happened, Nora?” I ask her. “Noah pushed me!” She screams in between sniffles, pointing at her brother. “I did not! She tripped over the couch! I didn’t do anything!” Noah screams, defending himself. “Stop yelling. Mama’s very tired.” I say, shushing them both. I finally got myself situated after a fit of nausea came over me. I’m just about to be 8 months pregnant. Jude and I never expected to have a baby so young, let alone twins. We decided to get married two years ago, and eventually we wanted another baby. We knew having another baby would be hard, but I never thought it would be this hard. Jude not being around as much is only adding to how hard it is.

Jude’s parents have decided to pay us a visit, so I’m attempting to prepare dinner. “Noah, please. I’m not blaming you. It’s okay, just stop screaming.” After Nora blamed him for pushing her, he fell into hysterics, trying to prove that he’s not to blame. He’s been screaming how it’s not his fault for what feels like hours. Nora has already got up and started playing again after some ice was put on her hurt knee. I grab Noah and pull him into my chest to give him a hug. I assure him that I’m not angry and that it’s not his fault. Just as he starts to calm down, I hear Nora fall once more. She was always the clumsy one.

I finally got dinner ready, and I’ve started on dessert. Nora has decided to help me bake a carrot cake while her brother watches some cartoons in the living room. (its one of those american style kitchens that look into the living room with an island and shit. My dream kitchen. Were not leaving a 5 year old unattended) “Okay, now we put 3 eggs.” I turn around to where Nora should be sitting peacefully. “Oh my god.” I say, covering my face. There she sits, covered in flour. I stutter some sounds of frustration before she says that she’ll go so in the living room with her brother to watch with him. “NO! No, don’t do that.” I say, grabbing her. “Just sit her for 5 minutes, honey.” I tell her, handing her my phone to play games on. 

I wipe my hands on my apron after closing the oven door and putting a 45 minute timer for my cake. I lift Nora off the kitchen counter and place her on the floor. I take my phone out of her hand. “Bath time!” I say to the twins. “No!!” Nora yells, her game being interrupted. I hear some grunts of disapproval from her brother. “Please? I have one bath bomb for you guys.” I attempt to compromise with them. They love the way the colors fill the bathtub. They immediately race up the stairs to the bathroom, knowing there’s only one available. In reality, I had 2, but the second one was very fancy and expensive and I was saving it for some moment Jude and I get some time alone. 

I walk into the bathroom to see the twins fighting over who get to use the bath bomb. I remove their clothes as they continue to bicker. I wrap them in their hooded towels and have them sit on the edge of the tub as it fills up with warm water. Once it’s filled, I take off their towels and put them both in the tub together. They eventually stop fighting and start playfully splashing each other with water. I giggle, happy to see them not trying to rip each other’s vocal chords out. I open the drawer under the sink and unwrap the bath bomb from its plastic. “Mama, I want to put it in!” Noah yells! “No! I want to!” Nora replies. I keep quiet, in an attempt to stay calm. They start splashing each other and end up wetting me in the process. They shut their mouths and look at me, covered in bath water. “I’m putting it in!” I say putting a stop to their argument. I drop it into the tub. The kids are in awe of the colors and glitter floating around in the water. 

Once they finally exited the tub, I got them both dressed. I took them downstairs and turned on the T.V. just in time to take out my cake from the oven. I leave it on the stove for it to cool down when I hear jingling at the door. I look up to see my husband walking through the door. The kids  jump up from the couch to greet their father at the door. Jude’s legs are attacked by two little kids hugging him. He crouches down and gives his two kids two hugs with his two arms. He leaves a few kisses and their faces before getting up. They walk back to the couch and continue watching their show. He walks over to me and pulls me into his side. I feel butterflies fly around in my stomach as he kisses my forehead. “Missed ya. How’s my baby?” He asks, rubbing my very pregnant belly. “Very active. Footballer’s genetics, for sure.” I say, referencing the very painful kicks to my ribs. “Whatever you made smells amazing.” He says. “Hmm. You, however, do not smell amazing. Please, go shower.” I tell him, kissing his lips and patting his chest. In my defense, ‘straight out of training in the summer’ is not the most appealing scent. He rushes upstairs to take a shower. Finally, I don’t have to deal with these kids alone. 

“Mama, please!?” Nora begs. “Nora, please. You’re giving me a headache. We cannot get a dog, because I will be the one taking care of it.” I try to explain to my daughter, my head in my hands. Where is Jude when I need him? “Yeah, and you’re too useless to help.” Noah adds. “Hey!” Nora yells. “Noah! That is not nice!” I tell him. “It’s true!” He says, expecting me to agree with him. “Is not!” Nora screams. “Is too!” Noah yells back. Nora jumps off of her place on the couch, onto her brother on the floor. A full blown bar brawl breaks out on my living room floor between my 5 year olds. “Hey! Stop it!!” I yell, trying to pull them apart. “Jude!!!” 

“Hey! Where were you!?” I scold my husband. “Hmm?” He groans, his face in a pillow. He looked so tired when he got in, so I assume he went to sleep. “I needed you!” I tell him. “Hmm… I’m sorry. Come cuddle with me.” I grumbles, grabbing my hand. “No!” I yell pulling my hand away. I look at the clock on the wall. It reads 6:00. Only an hour and a half until Jude’s family arrives. I make my way downstairs and finish icing my, now cooled, carrot cake with a cream cheese icing. I do some cleaning around the house before his family gets here.

“It’s so nice to see you guys! Jude’ll be down in a second. He’s just freshening up.” I say to my in-laws. I guide them to the table and sit them down. I have all the food laid out in a line in front of them. “Everything smells amazing, Y/N.” Denise says. “You really outdid yourself again.” Mark adds. “Uncle Jobe!” The twins come running into the room, and hug their uncle. “Well, what about us?” Their grandfather asks, holding his arms open for a hug. They run to their grandparents and hug them. “Sit down, kids.” I tell them. After a few arguments and a stern look from my side, they finally sit down. 

“Mum, dad! It’s so nice to see you!” Jude says, coming down the stairs. He hugs his brother and father then kisses his mum’s forehead. He sits down at his designated spot at our dining table. I serve everyone their first plate of food. I grab the kid’s plastic plates and put some food on it for them. “Mum, I don’t want veggies!” Noah says. “Me neither!” Nora adds. I look up at Jude who is too busy in conversation with Jobe to parent his kids. After some convincing and the promise of cake, I get them to eat all their food. At this point, the kids have argued with everything I’ve told them. Anything they could make difficult, they made difficult. I can see that Jude has taken notice of his kids’ behaviors. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I can see it brewing. 

“Y/N, this cake is amazing!” Jobe says with his mouth full. “Thank you. I had a little helper in the kitchen.” I say, poking Nora’s side. “I helped too!” Noah shouts. “I’m sure you did, Noah. Don’t yell.” Jude chimes in. “No, you didn’t!” Nora shouts louder. I let out a sigh. “Yes, I did!” The kids start bickering back and forth again. Jude looks at me then to his kids. Before he can say anything, I speak up. “You don’t have to argue, Nora. You both helped.” After a few stern looks from Jude, the twins quiet down. 

“How’s the baby?” Denise asks me. “She’s been okay. Very active. Very painful.” I say. “Mama, can we go play??” Noah asks, itching to get away from the adult conversation. “Sure, honey. Just stay out of the kitchen and the garden.” I tell him. I don’t want them playing anywhere near glass or knives, and the garden is too far for us to monitor them. Jude and I get caught in conversation after eating my carrot cake before we hear a crash and break. Jude quickly stands up, much faster than me, and makes his way to where the sound came from. Mark puts his hand on my back for support while I stand up. I waddle to where now Jude and the kids stand. He’s ushering them away from where I see my favorite mug broken. It’s the mug that Jude got me when I gave birth to the twins. I feel tears well in my eyes, a mix of pregnancy hormones and sentiment hitting me. Jude’s family senses my sadness and Jude’s anger. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Denise jokes. Jude subtly agrees and hugs his family, indicating to them that they should leave. Mark gives me a tight hug to tell me that it’ll be okay and they leave. 

Once they’re gone, I feel tears running down my face. Jude walks up to me and gives me a hug. He kisses my head. “So, who wants to explain WHY YOU WERE IN THE KITCHEN AFTER WE TOLD YOU NOT TO BE!?” Jude says loudly. He looks down at our kids who have their heads down. “You two have been nothing but trouble today. Am I right!?” He says. “Yes, dad…” The twins say in unison. “Your mum has been so tired lately, and you two have only contributed to that.” I look at Nora’s face to see her nearly breaking a tear. She’s not used to being yelled at by her daddy. “Jude-” I say, but am quickly interrupted. “No, these two need to face the consequences.” He says to me. He turns his attention back to his kids. “Go to your room. Now. And if we hear any fighting or bickering in there, you will NEVER hear the end of it. Now go.” He says, firmly. The kids stomp their way up the stairs and enter their shared bedroom. 

“I’m so sorry, love. I haven’t been there for you lately. I can’t even imagine how much trouble these two have been giving you. I love you.” Jude says, sitting me down on the couch. He picks up the large pieces of glass and then pulls out the vacuum. He starts vacuuming the hazardous pieces of glass on the floor. Once it’s all clean he cleans up the table and does the dishes. 

He comes back to the couch and sits down next to me. We discuss our kids' punishments and then he helps me up. He takes me up the stairs and into their bedroom. Both Nora and Noah are sitting on their respective beds quietly. “So, your mother and I have decided no T.V. for a week.” Jude breaks the news to our kids. “A week!?” “But that’s not fair!” The kids interject. “No ‘but’s. It’s not up for discussion.” I say. “Honey, go to bed. I’ll be there in a second.” Jude says. “I love you two.” I say, unable to resist. I waddle my way into my bedroom and sit on our bed. I swing my legs onto the bed. “I want you two to get up and apologize to mama.” I hear faintly before the door is swung open. The kids crawl up onto the bed and give me a hug. “We’re so sorry, mama.” Nora says. “We love you.” Noah adds. I pull both of them into a hug and kiss their foreheads. “I love you too. And it’s okay, honey. I forgive you. Now, go sleep. It’s late.” I tell them. They hug their dad on their way out and go to sleep.

Jude quickly grabs me and carries me bridal style. “Whoa! What are you doing?” I ask my husband. He carries me to our large and luxurious bathroom. He places me on the floor and starts removing both mine as his clothes. He takes my hand and helps me step into our hot tub, already filled with warm water, and turns on the jets. He opens our cabinet and takes out our expensive bath bomb and drops it into the water. I watch it fizz away as he gets in behind me. He places his hands on my baby bump and kisses my neck. “I haven’t been giving you much attention lately, have I?” I smirks as his hands move lower and lower. 

Wattpad: funkyfishfeet

DM for requests

[lacrimosathedark]

THAT'S IT! This is a Janet Drake Defense Post

As may be obvious, I spend a lot of time reading fanfic. And there's this trend that drives me nuts, and it's villainizing Janet Drake.

I'm not gonna say she's an A+ mother. She's not. She chose her career and adventures over spending time with her child much of the time. But fandom portrays her as some rich pompous ice queen, which is never shown.

Janet Drake mostly appears in the story Tim's introduced, and in the story she dies.

So, let's start from the top: Haly's Circus.

This event is the only time we see her really interacting with Tim before her death, but it shows that at least when he was young, she was an active part of his life. She was worried about bringing Tim because it might scare him. And then rightfully scolds her husband for being sexist because Jack Drake actually IS a jerk.

...I don't like the art in this comic. Or that the writer doesn't know how kids speak.

But Janet is being supportive of Tim's clear interest in Dick's performance.

And then tragedy strikes and she acts like, y'know, a mother.

Her priority is getting her son and herself out of there.

Also worth noting that the Drakes sent a copy of that final photo of the Graysons TO Dick, which is how he has it at all. If both of them were stuck up pricks, would they even bother sending a photo to a grieving child performer they hardly know? I can't imagine Jack really bothering, but I don't see why Janet wouldn't.

And then, by the time she's dying, we know that Tim's parents have been away for a very long time, he never knows where they are, but they've communicated enough that he knows that they've been fighting.

They're passive aggressive to say the least. This marriage is clearly not working anymore.

EDIT CUZ I REMEMBERED A THING:

It's worth noting that this is a time before smartphones. This comic was released in 1990, which was when pre-paid mobile phones had just started existing. Coverage isn't universal NOW, so back then it was even less, and Jack and Janet are archeologists (or archeologist adjacent?) so they're going to be in less developed and populated areas most of the time. It's unlikely they'd have consistent access to a functional phone that could call the states to talk to Tim regularly.

This isn't to defend their absence, because fuck that, but it's to give it some context. I don't think they were trying to ignore or abandon Tim. Communication was just not readily available and Janet seems to get wrapped up in work...and Jack's an asshole.

Also for note, Janet is probably the one sending Tim postcards in the first place. It being signed "Mom and Dad" is what makes me think that. Jack would have put himself first if he wrote it, it woulda said "Dad and Mom". That's admittedly pure speculation, BUT IT FITS SOOOOOO

My thought is if this were made modern, Janet would be sending extremely scattered texts and Tim would get next to nothing from Jack unless Janet prompted him.

END EDIT

(Fair warning, this story is a few levels of Yikes, but I'm gonna stay on topic)

Bad guy Obeah Man does...something? to the pilot, and they crash, and he has a group of people kidnap the Drakes and their assistant Jeremy.

Danger really puts some things in perspective, for Janet, at least. And that continues for her. Jack is a bit delusional and in denial, thinking he has any control of the situation.

They are tied up and filmed for ransom, their assistant killed right in front of them.

Jack just keeps raging, but Janet is having regrets. Notice how she doesn't cry until Tim is brought up. Could be nothing, could be something.

And then she dies.

Her only other major appearance is when Tim is having a fever dream from the Clench and everything is kind of okay for a minute.

Tim very clearly loves his mom. And we may not get a lot of characterization for her, but she's not cold or callous like people write her constantly.

And now, we finally have a little more about her as of Batman 134.

I haven't really been keeping up since the Gotham War stuff because What The Fuck Was That My Guy, but I recently saw this specific comic.

The multiverse is fucked up again, some way some how, and Bruce is lost (again) and Tim has to get him back (again). This time, Tim is going in after him. But he doesn't end up going straight to Bruce.

He goes to see an alt of his mom.

Tim missed her so much that he ended up going to her before Bruce.

And her immediate reaction is to run up and hug him. Does that look like a mother who doesn't love her son?

"Do you have anyone to take care of you?"

"I don't know how this happened, this miracle...but I just know, in my heart of hearts, it was to show me...that every version of my son is a good one."

Tell me again that this woman is heartless and didn't want her son, I fucking dare you.

And we get more meaning to the name "Robin" and a little crumb about Tim's grandmother. As a treat.

This is all to say, please stop writing Janet Drake as a cold, heartless bitch.

Small final note though: Jack Drake is, in fact, a shitty person and a shitty father. He does still love Tim and Tim loves him AND THAT IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE, but the relationship is a mess. If either parent is actively abusive, it's 1000% Jack "smashed a TV because my son wasn't listening to me and threatened Bruce Wayne at gunpoint" Drake. Probably part of why the marriage was falling apart.

Anyway, yeah, let's retire the "Jack and Janet Drake are Bad Parents" tag and replace it with "Jack Drake is a Bad Parent" and "Janet Drake's C+ Parenting" or something.

[dollfxcx]

can you write something about jealous!Pennywise? maybe some marking like bites and shit like that??

I'm finally back!! sorry it took long I was busy!!

TW: nsfw, blood, body gore

Word count: (1.7k+)

"How come they never let you go out alone? Do I look like a murderer that much?" Dave asks, wrapping an arm around your waist, and you shrug.

"Both my parents and…my best friend are missing. Richie's just worried about my safety, I guess." Dave hums, nodding his head slightly.

"Got it. Well, if anything happens, I'm here." You chuckle at the offer and nod, watching the sun dip below the horizon, Dave stops abruptly, grabbing your wrist and tilting his head down to look you in the eye.

"What--" you don't have time to finish the sentence as his lips crash on yours, his hands tighten around your hips as you both back away into the dark alley, Dave pins you against the wall, he pushes one of his thighs between your legs, and it's just as his mouth moves down your neck that you hear a voice.

"Your mother never taught you not to take other people's belongings, Davey?" Dave whirls around, eyes narrowed suspiciously, his fingers tightening protectively around your hips.

"Can I help you?" he asks the man who appears in front of him, his hands are buried in his pockets and his back is bent in a springy position. Pennywise approaches you and grabs your arm, pulling you towards him under the astonished gaze of Dave, who immediately addresses him.

"What the fuck, man? Who do you think you are?" Out of the corner of your eye you can see Pennywise grinning almost gleefully, he extends a hand to him with feigned kindness.

"Robert Gray, at your service. Now if you'll excuse us." In his human form, Pennywise turns around, still squeezing your arm, and starts to walk away, under the shocked gaze of Dave, who looks like a fish out of water.

"Y/n, what the fuck is going on?" he finally inquires, craving answers, his mouth slightly parted in a stunned expression.

"I don't... Look, I'll explain everything to you, I promise." you assure him, letting Pennywise drag you away, a low growl bubbling in his throat as he does. As you turn around the corner, you plant your feet and blurt out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Pennywise covers your mouth with his hand, his blue eyes gleaming gold as his lips come close to your ear.

"You better watch your tongue, pet. I'm seething already." And with a snap of his fingers, you're both in your room, Pennywise grabs you by the hips and viciously throws you onto the bed.

"What the hell are you doing? Richie was behind us, he must have seen us, he might come in and--" your sentence is cut short as Pennywise, back in his clown form, abruptly lands on top of your body, taking your breath away.

"They only see what I want them to see." he snarls, one hand yanks your shirt off, some buttons fall clacking to the floor. He buries his nose against the skin of your shoulder, you hear him grumble angrily.

"I ordered you not to go out with filthy humans anymore." his lips brutally drag against your skin as he begins to slam his crotch against yours in slow strokes.

"And I told you I don't really like following orders." you stammer as you feel his rough tongue begin to lick your skin, the bite mark he left on you that was covered by concealer now visible again.

"Oh, what a naughty pet you've been. Covering my mark like that… thought you could get away with Little Davey? Did you think I'd let you?" The question is rhetorical and you can't even answer because Pennywise crawls down from your body, taking off your pants with a jerk and, noticing that you're not wearing underwear, he glares at you.

"Oh yes, you certainly did." he clicks his tongue in disgust and disappointment, writhing in on himself until you can only see his eyes and a shock of red hair peek out between your spread legs. Even though his clown form is remotely humanoid, the golden glow of his gaze is far from human, he's hungry and furious.

"Scream and I'll rip your arm off." he warns you, no hint of playfulness or teasing in his tone, you blink quickly as if that might be enough to prepare you for the worst. You watch tensely as one of his hands lets his claws out, they trace a trail from the skin of your neck to the one just below your navel, a touch so light it makes you shiver. Time seems to stop when one of his claws begins to dig lightly into your flesh, you let out a startled yelp, he glares at you to remind you of his warning. His finger moves slowly across your skin, carving small rune-like letters you can't translate, your head falls back on the pillow as you let the warm sensation that is rising from the painful experience spread through your entire body. When he finishes carving, he sighs with satisfaction, his tongue sweeping over each rune to lick off the blood that drips from them.

"Look at you, just letting me do this to you without objection, so obedient. So pretty for me." he whines, a sinister smile on his face, as he pulls himself up from the mattress to admire his work, he runs one of his fingers, almost fondly, over the writing on your skin. You moan as, eyes narrowed in expectation, you feel him crawl up onto your body again, so close he could sit on your chest, your face practically against his crotch. You look up at him, your hands tighten around his calves, and he stares back, lids almost completely closed as he peers down at you. One of his hands reaches for your cheek, caressing it almost affectionately at first, then grabbing it with more force, he lowers his face towards yours.

"I also told you I don't like when you misbehave, didn't I?" he asks when you complain at his hard grip on your cheeks.

"Do you think you deserve kindness, pet?" he continues, pushing the tip of his thumb between your lips, you give it a swift suck, blinking quickly with feigned innocence. Pennywise can't hold back a grin, his free hand moves to the zipper of his trousers, which then disappear with a snap of his fingers, as you've seen him do so many times, his monstrous body seen from your perspective always has something divine which he can never completely free himself from.

"Oh, I know exactly what you deserve..." he murmurs, arching his back and starting to stroke his tentacle-like cock slowly, his hips having sudden spasms that bring him dangerously close to your mouth from time to time. Your legs start to tremble since you don't know if you'll be able to do much in this position, utterly uncomfortable for you, he's the only one able to move being on top of you, and since you're stuck between his body and the mattress. Pennywise grunts under his breath, his thumb caressing the tip from which a little precum is already oozing out.

"Open." he orders you, narrowing his eyes and digging a hand into your hair, grabbing it tightly and pulling your face slightly upwards. You can't and won't do anything but obey, letting his cock slide between your lips with ease, the sound of your squelchy saliva ringing in your ears.

"That's it, good. Take me, alllll the way. Tastes good?" he asks, you can see how his eyes roll back in pleasure, so you nod frantically, so much so that your teeth involuntarily rub against his oversensitive skin, which makes him groan and thrust into your mouth.

"Don't bite, or I will bite you." you know he's not kidding so you suck on his cock harder in search of magnanimity and he seems to like it as his grip on your hair tightens, his fingers pressing against the back of your head to propel you further forward. After a few minutes you hear him panting, and you can't help but moan when you see his body on top of yours covered in a light layer of glistening sweat, which makes him shine even in the dark of night. Pennywise frowns, his hips shaking, and you feel his knees give out for a split second, your palms clasped around his calves feel the tendons tense.

"So good for me." you hear him mumble, he then grabs your shoulders and pushes you further down, throwing the pillow away so that your head now lays solely on the mattress, depriving you of the only advantage you had over him, now completely blocked and at his mercy.

"Now stay still and let Pennywise fuck your pretty mouth, mh?" Without waiting for an answer, he arches his back and leans on his arms to sink into you, thrusting in and out, up and down as if he were doing push-ups. You choke around his cock more than once, unable to move or slow his pace, and that seems to turn him on even more, he thrusts into your mouth until the tip caresses your throat, stimulating your gag reflex, and sits still in that position for a few seconds, as if it were a plug, if your eyes weren't veiled with tears you would be able to see his teeth becoming sharper as his pleasure increases. With a broken moan, he cums

into your mouth, but he doesn't stop moving his hips, making sure to pump every single drop down your throat. When he collapses on you, after almost affectionately wiping the corners of your mouth, you hear him purr, his nose nuzzles up against your neck, and you can't help but run a hand through his ginger hair, which makes him mumble in a language you don't know.

"What do those runes mean, by the way?" you ask, referring to the writing he engraved on your belly, Pennywise shakes his head slightly and purrs even louder, his teeth gliding over your skin delicately, without malicious intentions.

"It means everything and it means

nothing." he then mumbles, his arms wrap around your waist possessively, you can't help but roll his eyes.

"Now sleep."

[tojisbbygworl]

Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.

WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt

Words: 4,994

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment

author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO

I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.

Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.

He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.

He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.

Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.

These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.

Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.

The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.

It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.

It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?

"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.

"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.

"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.

"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."

"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.

He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."

She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.

The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.

It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.

The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.

Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.

This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.

It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…

Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.

The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.

She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.

She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.

She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.

They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.

“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.

He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.

And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.

~

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.

Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.

She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.

The door swings open. And her heart stops.

Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"

When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.

For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.

She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.

"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.

The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.

She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.

Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."

Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.

Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.

"No," she realizes. "It's not you."

Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"

"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."

Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."

"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"

"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I had to, baby. I-"

"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"

He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"

"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.

The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."

She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...

...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.

He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.

He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.

He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.

He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…

“You were watching me?”

Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”

He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”

With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.

She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.

She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.

Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”

He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.

The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.

She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.

The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.

Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.

She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.

And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.

When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.

He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.

She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.

“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.

“Yes?” He asks her.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.

He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.

She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.

Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”

“But I love you,” she tells him.

He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”

She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”

His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”

As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.

She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.

She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.

She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.

“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.

Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.

Lyla was wrong…right?

“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”

“Lyla…shut down.”

ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

[leclerc-s]

track 001. sola

─── ❝ y de todo me olvidaré, hasta de tu nombre me olvidare ❞ ───

series masterlist // next

liked by user 71, user39, user20 and others

f1updates penelope trevino, longtime family friend of the sainz family has appeared in the paddock for the first time since 2016. she is here for the first grand prix of the year.

user92 she looks hot. single penelope is thriving, give us the mclaren boys content girl.

user73 our latina queen coming through with the style. love her outfit

↳ user64 she's not latina if she's from spain.

↳ user73 she was born in the usa to mexican parents and grew up traveling to mexico, spain, and the states. she's a latina, simply because she grew up in spain or the states doesn't change that.

↳ user39 no one is doing it like her, truly

user20 i fucking love her fit. i could never wear something like that because i hate denim dresses, they're so uncomfy but she looks so good in it.

penelopetrevino posted a new story

note to self: don't leave your phone unattended near two toddlers.

landonorris i am not a toddler! penelopetrevino remind me again how old you are? landonorris THAT'S NOT FAIR!

carlossainz55 you just had to post it didn't you? penelopetrevino you just had to look so disgusted didn't you? carlossainz55 i can't help feeling disgusted by the thought of you penelopetrevino eres insoportable (you are unbearable) carlossainz55 i'm glad your boyfriend cheated on you penelopetrevino bastardo, i hope you dnf (bastard)

she slammed her phone face down, frustrated with carlos sainz. he was completely and utterly annoying. she frowned and failed to notice the person sitting beside her, "first one?"

penelope jumped up, her reflexes having her hold her fists up. the person held their hands up, and penelope deflated, noticing it was a girl. she smiled at penelope, holding out a hand for a handshake, "natalia ruiz."

"penelope trevino," she replied, shaking her hand, "and i'm sorry about that but you scared me."

she shrugged, "i would've done the same. i grew up with charles and his brothers, violence was always the answer. is this your first race? i haven't seen you around here before."

penelope shook her head, "i haven't been here since 2016. my schedule got too busy to attend races."

"and you're here with?"

"carlos, with mclaren."

"ah, you must be the annoying thorn in his side."

"the bastard said that about me? i'll have you know i am a saint compared to carlos sainz. he told me he was glad my boyfriend cheated on me."

"ooh," natalia said, "that's tough. i can help you get back at him."

"how?"

"adding you to our group chat, i'm surprised daph hasn't added you yet. she always manages to get everyone's number. it's sort of scary what she can do."

"do it," penelope said, "anything to further annoy carlos."

natalia laughed, handing her phone to her, "put your number in there. i have a feeling we're about to be good friends penelope trevino."

natalia ruiz added one person

max verstappen why does everyone suddenly love adding people? bad enough leclerc and ruiz are here.

charles leclerc i can and will crash into you. natalia ruiz fuck you verstappen max verstappen no thanks, you're not my type. daniel ricciardo yeah, he prefers small blondes named mae jones max verstappen i'm going to murder you

carlos sainz you have got to be shitting me

carlos sainz what have you done?

carlos sainz is nothing sacred anymore?

lewis hamilton i bet it's penelope, the girl he was complaining about earlier.

natalia ruiz you're being dramatic carlos, she's a nice girl. she almost punched me.

penelope trevino YOU SCARED ME! FIGHT OR FLIGHT! I PICKED FIGHT! I ALWAYS PICK FIGHT!

daniel ricciardo i don't get it, why invite her if you were going to complain about her?

carlos sainz i didn't invite her, my dad did. i don't want her anywhere near me.

mae jones didn't know princess diaries 2 was getting a remake.

daphne jones huh, you're right. mae jones of course i am, i always am daphne jones that's debatable

fernando alonso i was under the impression he liked her? it seems like those things children do to get someone's attention.

penelope trevino the better spanish driver is so wrong. he doesn't like me. i also don't like him. we tolerate each other because our families like each other.

carlos sainz tolerate each other is too nice

pierre gasly are you not spanish too?

penelope trevino I'M MEXICAN! YOU FRENCH FRY!

natalia ruiz she's like charles when they call him french

charles leclerc i'm not french, i'm monegasque.

pierre gasly tell that to arthur, he seems to think he's french. charles leclerc arthur's too busy trying to date sergio's niece, his opinion doesn't matter. lance stroll isabella? she said they were besties? or something like that charles leclerc the other one! lance stroll dulce? charles leclerc THAT ONE!

daphne jones carlos why do you even dislike her? she seems like a nice girl

carlos sainz oh, she's got you all fooled penelope trevino i've only ever been mean to you in retaliation pendejo. you cut off my pigtail when we were kids so i shaved your head

daniel ricciardo i find it hard to believe that carlos was ever bald

penelope trevino he was like 7 and i was 5. i am petty.

natalia ruiz heard your song with bad bunny, please marry me. it's like dress level good

pierre gasly translation: it's a horny song esteban ocon forever scared. do not look up the lyrics

natalia ruiz they make it sound worse in english, it's actually not that bad

fernando alonso she lies. penelope trevino it's not that bad mae jones i translated the lyrics, it's pretty bad. i aspire to write a song as horny as that one day.

sebastian vettel somehow i get called dad but all of you tend to 'adopt' the first person you come across

natalia ruiz that's not true! i'm simply helping a friend annoy someone else.

carlos sainz what have i ever done to you natalia?

natalia ruiz nothing but i love chaos and a good enemies to lovers

carlos sainz me and her? never.

penelope trevino the two of us? never in a million years

lewis hamilton screenshotting so when you two inevitable end up together i have proof.

daniel ricciardo I DID THE SAME THING YEARS AGO!

max verstappen why do i vaguely remember that??

liked by nataliaruiz, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

penelopetrevino two pretty (new) bestfriends take on australia!

view all comments

nataliaruiz we're besties now! even if you almost punched me

↳ penelopetrevino of course, but don't sneak up on me if you don't want to get nearly punched.

user86 this is so iconic of them

user29 the dresses are so iconic of them but who took the picture??

landonorris so no picture credits? wow mom

↳ penelopetrevino so sorry my son 📸 landonorris

↳ landonorris thanks mom!

↳ user55 lando literally imprinted like a baby duck on penelope

user44 not charles liking a post because his bestie was tagged in it

↳ user31 those two are not just besties and we all fucking know it

↳ user91 facts! those two are in love

user64 so no carlos???

lando norris i don't why carlos doesn't like penelope, she's nice??

penelope trevino ugly bitches hate me

carlos sainz says the ugly person herself

lance stroll he may hate her guts but he will never call her a bitch

alex albon we respect women here lance! lance stroll i know that alex!

mae jones love a good enemies to lovers

natalia ruiz same, it's mia and nicholas but irl

max verstappen i still don't get what that means

daniel ricciardo right, forgot you basically had no childhood. we're watching princess diaries 2. EVERYONE TO MY HOTEL ROOM!!

lance stroll CAN I COME TOO??!!! esteban ocon lance, buddy, are you feeling okay??

lance stroll THAT WASN'T ME!! I HAVE A CHILD CHASING ME!!

george russell i can hear him screaming for sergio to "control his child"

george russell i wasn't aware checo had children who could text.

sebastian vettel that's his niece george.

george russell i knew that...

lance stroll DANNY!! CAN I COME?!! I LOVE THE PRINCESS DIARIES!!

daniel ricciardo of course isabella.

lance stroll this is why you're my favorite red bull driver

max verstappen what the fuck?

pierre gasly HE DOESN'T EVEN DRIVE FOR RED BULL ANYMORE

lance stroll added one person

isabella perez i don't care. are any of you dating daphne freaking jones??

daniel ricciardo how the fuck??

penelope trevino DANIEL'S DATING DAPHNE JONES??

isabella perez i saw you guys kissing one time last year... if you really want to keep your relationship a secret maybe try harder

daphne jones I TOLD YOU RICCIARDO!! BUT NO YOU SAID, "WHO COULD POSSIBLY SEE US??"

daniel ricciardo how was a i supposed to know she was around??? she's like a baby duck.

isabella perez i am.

isabella perez i'm like jacob with rotisserie chicken in twilight

max verstappen what the fuck is twilight

isabella perez oh, they weren't joking when they said you had no childhood.

penelope trevino what the fuck did i get myself into??

isabella perez SINGING IN THE SHOWER!! LA-DA-DI LA-DA-DA

penelope trevino oh por dios

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @ragioniera

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm not quite sure how i feel about this part but i lowkey think it's cute. so here it is! please do not expect parts this frequently, i'm just trying to get the first part out for every series in the honest series. i'll probably disappear for a week after that, it's a pattern for me.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!